write143

[write143]

Han fic recs

Other members

Please let me know if a link does not work!

(f,h) Mischief managed @beautifulchris

(f) Mistletoe @spacequokka

(m) Post-sex vibes @sluttywonwoo

(m) Sweater weather @cinhomi

(m) Sharing a bed @skzdarlings

(m,a) Colder @hwajin

(m) High with them @bandgie ft.Bangchan & Felix

(m) Topping Jisung @blurboki

(m) Captain save-a-hoe @hyunsvngs

(m) Minsung pleasure @moonjxsung ft.Lee Know

(m) Sextoys @tasteracha ft.Felix

(m) Hard thoughts #2 @quokkawritesarchive

(m,f) Aftercare

#tbr

[write143]

blow my mind | bang chan

Pairing • Chan x Gen!Reader Summary • You have a test today and you haven't studied at all, but you're not worried. Why? Because you have the ability to read minds, and you'll be sitting next to the smartest guy in class. Unfortunately, his thoughts have strayed from the test and into very dirty territory. Genre • college au, smut, fluff WC • 1.7k Content • no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: hand holding 🥰, public sex, fingering, dry humping, unprotected piv penetration, orgasm denial. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.

Ethically, reading minds is a very dubious subject. As far as you know, you're the only person in the world with supernatural abilities. No one would ever know you're reading their mind, but you have high enough standards for yourself to only use your mind reading capabilities in emergencies.

This was an emergency.

You have a test today, and didn't study. But, you do have a plan. You are going to sit beside one of your classmates and cheat.

You walk into the lecture hall, and scan the room. The class is arranged with tier seating and long tables, and as you work your eyes around the room, you spot him at the very top. You've had a few projects with Chan before, so you know how intelligent he is. You've talked a lot more over the course of the semester, so it wouldn't be weird to sit beside him.

"Ready for the test?" you ask, approaching the table he's sitting at.

He looks up at you and smiles.

"I hope so, I've been cramming all night for this. You?"

"Nope." You grin and give him a thumbs up, pulling out the chair next to him and taking a seat.

"Glad to see you're confident," he laughs.

The rest of the class trudges in, and the test begins.

First thing you write is your name. Easy enough.

You concentrate on Chan, and peer into his mind. He's reading the first question, and after a few minutes of words formulating in his brain, he writes down an answer. You always found it interesting to see how different people think, and Chan's thoughts are muddied as he tries to answer the questions. But when he figures out an answer, everything comes into total focus.

You rewrite his answers on your paper, making sure to use different words. As much as you dislike doing it, this isn't your first time cheating on a test like this, so you know how to not get caught.

A particularly tricky question is next, and you can see his thoughts wander from the test, to the class, to... you. You see yourself in his imagination.

He's daydreaming. This is not good, you need him to focus on the test.

You think about tuning into someone else's mind, but you're captured by what he imagines.

He reaches out his hand, gently placing it over yours. He squeezes it lightly.

You have to look at your hand to make sure it wasn't real. His imagination is extremely vivid. You see movement out of the corner of your eye, which turns out to be Chan shaking his head. Just like that, the image disappears and he's back to thinking about the question.

What was that?

You don't have time to ponder what that could mean when he starts writing down his answer, and you have to quickly catch up to him before he stops thinking about it.

The next question also seems to be giving him trouble, because he stops to think about it for a long time. Eventually, he drifts off into another daydream. He imagines the classroom again, and himself scooting his chair next to you. The version of you in his imagination rests your head on his shoulder. It's very cute, all things considered.

Then it dawns on you. He has a crush on you.

Well isn't that just adorable. It would be cuter if he would just get back to the test before you both fail.

He turns his head to look at you, resting peacefully on his shoulder. He smiles and leans in to kiss you.

Your fingers instinctively brush your lips. It's not rare for people to have vivid sensory imaginations, but you almost never get a tactile experience from your power. He must be imagining the feeling of touching you, enough that you feel it through him.

If only he had Aphantasia, and not the worlds strongest imagination. You don't think either of you will be passing this test.

He moves his hand from on top of yours to caressing your thigh. Then, it moves closer to the waistband of your pants-

You cough loudly, breaking his focus. The image disappears in an instant. You see the muddied words coming back, and he's finally thinking about the test again.

You can feel heat rising to your cheeks. Was he imagining what you think he was imagining?

He has been stuck on this question for a while, so you probably wont find anyone else in class who's still working on it. And even if you could, you'd have to check the minds of the entire class. You're stuck peeping in Chan's mind if you want to possibly pass the test.

It's feels a bit strange to be the subject of Chan's romantic fantasies, but not in a bad way. He's handsome, kind, smart, funny in an awkward kind of way that you've always found charming...

You've never thought about him that way before. But knowing how he feels, you'll definitely be thinking about him now.

You realize you're starting to drift off the same way Chan was, and go back to concentrating on your cheating scheme.

Luckily, he's focused on the right subject now, and he flies through the answers. He's almost too fast, and you have to leave some answers half done in order to keep pace. Hopefully you'll still get half a mark for those ones.

You're on the last question now. He takes some time to read and reread the question, and when he starts to think of an answer, he goes back and reads the question one more time. You're worried, the tricky questions are when he starts to nod off.

He rests his head on his hand and his mind wanders back to his imagination. At this point, you think you should just try to answer the question yourself, but your mind freezes when he continues where he left off.

His hand moves up your thigh, and between your legs. He rubs you over the fabric of your pants, but the friction is enough to feel your core start to pulse. You start moaning involuntarily, and Chan smirks to himself. 'Quiet, we're still in class' he whispers. He pretends to keep writing with one hand, while the other slips into your pants. You're not wearing underwear, so he can easily move his fingers to circle your clit. You cover your mouth with your fist to stifle a moan. The pace is slow, but you're able to pretend to be working while he works his fingers. You find yourself mindlessly rocking into him. He increases his speed, and you feel your orgasm building while you try to suppress another moan. Your head leans back as you buck into his hand, and you feel yourself about to- Suddenly, his fingers stop. Your core is still throbbing, but he takes his hand out of your pants. You look at him pleadingly, and he pats his lap for you to sit on. You look around the classroom. Everyone is too focused on their tests to notice you getting up. You stand to straddle him, and before you can sit down, he unbuttons your pants and pulls them down. If anyone turned around to look, they would see him groping your ass. He guides you down to sit on his lap, and you feel his bulge prodding against your folds. "Finish yourself on me," he whispers. You try to turn your head to see if anyone's watching, but he stops you. "Just look at me. Don't worry about anyone else." Nervously, you rub yourself on his bulge, and even under the fabric you can feel how hard he is. When you feel your orgasm building up again, you forget about the possibility of anyone seeing and hump him harder. His clothed dick against your bare cunt clouds your mind, and you try to get as much friction against him as you can. You buck into him faster, and you feel him getting harder as he starts to rock against you. You feel yourself about to cum again, but he lifts you up onto the desk and lays you on your back. "Chan, please," you whine. You can't take this anymore, and you rub your legs together to feel any sort of release. He pulls your legs apart, opening your soaking wet pussy to the world. Before you can even complain, his pants are down, and his massive cock is throbbing against your entrance. He easily slides himself into you, and you feel him moving up your walls. He fills you up completely, staying there for a moment before pulling out and slamming himself right back in. He rams into you, hitting your sweet spot. His hand is back on your clit, rubbing circles while he continues his ruthless pace with his cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core. He slams into you faster and faster as he chases his own high, losing control as his body acts on instinct. You're almost at your limit, and you feel your orgasm about to peak-

"Time's up everyone! Turn in your tests," the professor announces to the class.

You feel your core pulsing as you snap back to reality. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest, and you realize none of that was real, despite it being incredibly vivid. Somehow, you lost yourself in his fantasy.

You look over to Chan, and notice his erection as he quickly writes something down for the last question. You look back to your own test, and see the empty space where you should've wrote your answer. You have no idea what to write. You don't even remember what the question was.

All you remember was Chan pounding into you at a brutal pace.

You look back to Chan as he stands, and when he makes eye contact, his cheeks turn red and he looks away. He hurriedly stuffs all his things into his bag and speed walks down the steps.

If you want to pass this class, you can never sit next to him again. You definitely should never read his mind again.

However... you do want to know what else he's thinking about when you're near him.

And you really want to know what he's like outside of his imagination.

EPILOGUE:

Two weeks later, your test scores are posted to the schools website. You click on the link to see how you did. As it loads in, you wait with baited breath.

You failed the test.

A/N: I hope someone went to look up what Aphantasia was, and suddenly everything made sense in their life when they realized they have it. And they have to live their life knowing that an incredibly important part of their worldview and way of thinking was discovered by reading a kpop x reader smut fic.

#tbr

[write143]

Change Notes

Added to To Be Read/Reading List: "The Curse of Saturdays" "opposites attract" "reach out and touch" "chances taken" "bl (backwards love)" "Let Your Love Walk In" "bury me at make out creek" "LMCat_98 has joined the chat" "always on my mind" "We Run This Jungle" "The Royal Pack" "i need you now, but i don't know you yet" "Sin" "Sick thoughts" "he ain't heavy, he's ours"

Added to Other Fics I've Finished Reading: "lyrics of an improvised love song" "worth the drive" "fool me once (kiss me twice)" "When the Morning Comes" "Gravity" "on my lips (your laughter is the sweetest)" "to build a legacy" "Love In The Time Of Corporate Korea" "Did You Get Enough Love, My Little Dove?" "use me for a feeling (or a good time)" "Bruised Elegance" "don't put off till tomorrow"

✨Reading Master List

Here's a masterlist of what I have read and/or am reading on AO3! Currently everything I'm reading is primarily SKZ fics (some have referenced TxT or ATEEZ and it's cute) but I'm generally just reading to read and learn what people are writing/passionate about. It's honestly enlightening, in a good way (most times). Reviews are below the cut. ♥

my ao3: think143 🔖 - unfinished work 📗 - completed work 📖 - currently reading/tracking

My Favorite (Finished) Fics

(In order of completion, not best/worst or anything like that)

hands-on learning 💖 (E) 25.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Porn with Feelings, Friends to Lovers My Notes: I thought I would have more to say about this one but it's just really really good. A nice quick nighttime read before bed. There's just something about the ones with "feelings revelation" that make me sooooo happy. And yes, all of the smut is *chef's kiss*.

MFA (Most Fuckable Ass) 💖 (E) 53.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor Lee Minho, Student Han Jisung, Slow Burn, Daddy Kink My Notes: I burned through this fic in an evening and I am fanning myself like a Southern woman in the heat of summer on her front porch. So incredibly well-written, and I've found a fic author that I'll be following closely for a long time.

don't leave me tongue-tied 💖 (E) 57.5k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Porn with Feelings, Light Angst, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Fluff My Notes: This was honestly really endearing to read and see actual feelings come to light. Author commented to say that it's based on a manga called "My Quiet Best Friend's Just Tongue-Tied", but without the dub-con elements. Well-written and reads easily; comical when it needs to be!

Haebang 💖 (E) 193.6k Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble Notable Tags: Fluff, Smut, Porn With Plot, Sex Work, Dom/sub Undertones, Daddy Kink, Explicit Consent, Subspace, Porn with Feelings, BDSM, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Behavior, Feelings Realization, Safewords My Notes: Okay, hear me out; there is a LOT going on in this fic. A lot. The point of the Haebang retreat is that each member specializes in helping you find liberation with one aspect of sex; be it intimacy, dom/sub, etc, and each chapter follows each member at the start before things start to get a bit more involved. However, any time I try to word why I like this fic so much, I simply cannot. Also Seungmin is a nerd and we love him for it.

instinct 💖 (E) 53.4k Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader Notable Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Alternate Universe - College/University, Light Dom/sub My Notes:This was the first ABO fic I read and it makes every other one I've read after it pale in comparison. I love how the author describes what's going on in the reader's head without over-explaining or spoon feeding it to us. The relationship between Reader and Chan, plus all of the other housemates, is so so so good.

come on home 💖 (E) 206.7k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Angst, Smut, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Violence, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Denial of Feelings, Referenced Homophobia, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Feelings Realization, POV Alternating, Gangs, Guns, Shitty Exes My Notes: The guns are there for a split second, but this fic is very centered on a incredibly difficult to read domestic abuse situation, and the liberation from said relationship. There's also the orientation realization of another character, but that instills a lot of angst and fear of loss while reading. However, the fic is still incredible, a powerful read, and definitely on the recommended list.

Wannabe Poet 💖 (E) 134.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Bad Poems, Bullied Han Jisung, Friends with Benefits, Loss of Virginity, Exhibitionism, Smut, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Sexual Assault. My Notes: I'm all about found family and I feel like this fic really hit the nail on the head for it. I loved the concept of this fic from the beginning. Han texts a bad poem to a random number and makes a friend in Minho. Most of this fic seems centered on Han becoming comfortable with his true self and what he wants, not what his family wants for him. I really love the love that he finds not only in Minho, but in everyone around him. ♥

Five Stars 💔 but 💖 (E) 420.7k Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Bang Chan/Lee Minho Notable Tags: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Cannibalism, Dismemberment, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Some Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Grooming, Murder, Mutual Pining, Minor Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Implied/Referenced Suicide My Notes: I have to stress so so so so much that the writing on this fic is one of the best I've ever read. HOWEVER, it's also one of the most fucked up pieces of fiction I've ever read. Mental health issues are at the center of this bloody, sexy, kinky fic. It would truly be a horror movie if it were put onto screen. Please please please make sure to read ALL OF THE TAGS on this fic before deciding whether to read it or not. I had to take frequent breaks but it was difficult to make myself look away because I wanted to know what the hell was going on. I have never screamed so much at a fic before in my life. I cried at least six times and four of those were in the last 50k words.

Heart Song 💖 (E) 63.1k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin, Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Physical Disability My Notes: I just...I cried so much during this fic. In this universe, soulmates are identified by a dream that people have on the night of their 16th birthday. They dream about a significant memory from their soulmate's life, and when they awaken, their soulmate's first impression appears on their body written in their handwriting. The only problem is that...Han Jisung is blind, so he has never seen anything. Lee Minho leads his whole life thinking that he doesn't have a soulmate, because he saw nothing in his dream. I LOVE the author's storytelling style, the way they use angst in believable ways, and the way that they bring the characters together.

Speak With Your Eyes 💖 (E) 164k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Space, Hybrids, Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Space Corps, Miscommunication, Slow Burn, ONLY ONE BED, Found Family, Smut My Notes: A ROMANCE IN SPACE?! Lee Know is an android hybrid, and unfortunately this universe has a lot of not very nice things that are in place regarding people who are not fully human. Lee Know saves Han's life, then Han saves Lee Know's life, then Lee Know saves Han's life again...you get the picture. It's incredibly well-written, a lovely drop into a different setting than I'm used to, and devourable in a day. Will be following this author for a while!

so sweet like chocolate 💖 (T) 71.7k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Fluff My Notes: I cannot stop gushing about this fic. The mutual pining is written incredibly addictingly and just aaaagh! Lee Know is a librarian, Jisung is a student who has never visited the library before, Jisung may have accidently thrown a pencil at Lee Know...it all becomes very fluffy at just the right pace. I read this so quickly and when it was over, and the author's note popped up saying "and that's the end!" I had to check the % progress on my kindle. I would devour any further stories written about this story, but I am also okay with how it ended, and imagining what happens next.

To Be Read/Reading List

Leap of Faith 📖🔖 (M) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Dream Drabbles 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Each chapter is a one-shot with member/reader

Kerosene 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

Charmer 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Quaver and Storm 📖🔖 (E) Notable Tags: SKZ Member/Reader, Dom/Sub, Fluff, Smut, Polyamory, Non-con elements

In Too Deep 📖🔖 (M) Relationship(s): SKZ Member/Reader

The Stray Kids Gang 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

We'll Be Alright 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho

Everything you Crave 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

The Force that Drives the Flower 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Lee Minho

I like the view right now 📖🔖(E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Connected 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Original Female Character

Animals Without Direction 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

A Crack in the Glass 📖🔖(E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Stray Gods 🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

A Glitch 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Seo Changbin

It's In My Blood 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Everything's Prettier Underwater 📗 (G) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Everyone

The Curse of Saturdays 📗 (T) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

opposites attract 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho

reach out and touch 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

chances taken 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

bl (backwards love) 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Let Your Love Walk In 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

bury me at make out creek 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

LMCat_98 has joined the chat 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

always on my mind ��� (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

We Run This Jungle 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

The Royal Pack 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix, Bang Chan/Lee Felix, SKZ Ensemble/SKZ Ensemble

i need you now, but i don't know you yet 📗 (M) Relationship(s): SKZ Ensemble/SKZ Ensemble

Sin 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Sick thoughts 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

he ain't heavy, he's ours 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/SKZ Ensemble

Other Fics I've Finished Reading

Most recent finishes at the top!

fool me once (kiss me twice) (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

When the Morning Comes (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Gravity (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

on my lips (your laughter is the sweetest) (G) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

to build a legacy (E) Relationship(s):Lee Felix/Everyone

Love In The Time Of Corporate Korea (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Did You Get Enough Love, My Little Dove? (NR) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

use me for a feeling (or a good time) (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Know

Bruised Elegance (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

don't put off till tomorrow (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

worth the drive (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

lyrics of an improvised love song (T) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

florescence (can i be close to you?) (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

can you kiss me more? (E) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Lee Minho

Five-Point Star (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

all in (to you) (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

For the Wolf (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Felix

Stars and Teardrops (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Seo Changbin

After Us (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

How to Trust Again (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Felix, Han Jisung/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Implied Everyone/Everyone

Vanilla Scented Oranges (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Everyone

Faithfully Yours (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Felix

Secret Secret (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho, Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Rooted in Pain (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Darling, let me teach you a lesson. (E) Relationship(s):Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

misery loves company (E) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin

Verbatim (T) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Cheesecake, Sugar Daddies & Other Sweet Things (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin

Yours From the Start (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Scent of You (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Desire (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Hidden Identity (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Everyone

Close Your Eyes (...And Count to Seven) (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Limbo (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Devilish (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Can I Make a Suggestion? (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

In Winter, Dreaming of Spring (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho

Phobia (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

mouth to mouth (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

jumping off in the ocean (T) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

In Need of Sunshine (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Hwang Hyunjin

Lighthouse and North Star (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Bang Chan

Primordial (T) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble, Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

secret secret (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Tangled (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Catch me, if you can (E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Stray Hybrids (T) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

Bark on Bark, Petal Strands (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho, Bang Chan/Everyone

Business Attire (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan (Stray Kids)/Reader

mouth to mouth (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

shotgunning (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

#masterlist change notes #fic recs

[write143]

🌊 ೃ‧₊◜ sea may rise, sky may fall masterlist

pairing: lee know x f!reader x han jisung

summary: fate drives the last piece of the puzzle to take down your worst enemy right into your hands in the form of han jisung. you don't expect him to take your whole world, and turn it upside down; worming his way into your crew, into your heart – and your complicated relationship with minho. redefining what it means to live and to love, despite it all.

word count: ∼65k

series warnings: 🔞 smut and angst, but also, this is a pirate story, so we are dealing with period typical warnings! There is blood; violence; abuse; murder; death (not of any main characters!!); mentions of parent and pet death; grief; mentions of prostitution and sexual assault (not graphic, in the history of main characters); consensual sexual intercourse, also under the influence; unprotected sex with the pullout method (condoms weren’t invented yet, okay; pulling out does not work!! don’t do it!! this is fiction!!); lots of mxm action

epigraph

chapter I

chapter II

chapter III

chapter IV

chapter V

chapter VI - coming: friday, april 12, 3pm CET

chaper VII - coming: friday, april 19, 3pm CET

chapter VIII - coming: friday, april 26, 3pm CET

chapter IX - coming: friday, may 3, 3pm CET

interlude

chapter X - coming: friday, may 10, 3pm CET

chapter XI - coming: friday, may 17, 3pm CET

interlude

chapter XII - epilogue - coming: friday, may 24 3pm CET

*chapters in italics are supplemental poems

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

disclaimer: before someone comes into my inbox - I know pirates wouldn’t bathe much while at sea, that they didn’t eat this lavishly, that women weren’t allowed on ships because they were supposedly bad luck, and I also know that absinthe doesn’t actually fuck you up. I did research, but I also tweaked the colonial history of the bahamas to my liking because - this is a sexy little pirate fanfic, and I make the rules. don't @ me, I will not engage.

huge, and I mean gigantic shoutout to the love of my life @stayconnecteed for sending in the ask that started it all. this series wouldn't exist without you!! I'm so serious!! thank you!!

🔖 series taglist and general taglist open! if you're on my general taglist, you will automatically be tagged in this series! to be added to either, have your age on your blog and reply here or message to be added! pls state which one you want to be added to

series taglist: @drunkewok @fixation-dump @badmaeda @luminouskalopsia @leetoes @leeknowyah @pynchkilledme @cotton-candycloudz @devilsmatches @notevenheretbh1 @jamlessstars @kiaralynn3838 @itshannjisung @kayleefriedchicken @adorepjw @miss-fallon @emmxxsworld @ot8girlfie @opfop

#tbr

[write143]

Goddamm

How are skz during no nut november pookie?

Lee know: He’s lasting down to the last second meanwhile you’re the one begging for him to just give up! He's gonna tease you like crazy too. "So desperate...are you always like this? Like a desperate slut?" He has so much self control he'd even let you watch him palm himself a little, but not allow you to touch him.

Hyunjin: He's lasting all the way and simultaneously planning how he's gonna ruin you. How he's gonna pump you full of his load, making sure every drop is stuffed into you. He gives you a lot of orgasms on his time off because to him, that's just as good as having his own orgasm. "Pretty baby, you're gonna be such a mess when I finally cover you with my cum, aren't you?"

Seungmin: He’s lasting until you piss him off. He’s so calm usually so he doesn’t have trouble pushing back his horny feelings. "Keep acting up pup, I'm not giving in." Until you just push him over the edge and he fucks you into the gd floor.

Changbin: He would last halfway. His focus would be insane the beginning of the month, with the gym helping him get out his energy and frustration. BUT it just gets to a point where watching you strut around in your panties after a shower, or feel you roll against him at night gets the best of him and he's plunging into you. "Fuck this, Binnie needs your little cunt bunny."

Felix: He's lasting pretty much halfway too. He's GOOD at teasing you, so he won't leave you high and dry. What ends up getting him to fold is coming home and hearing your gorgeous whimpers and moans coming from your shared bedroom. The door opens a nudge, and he's already stripping off his clothes. "Love, pull those fingers out, let me ruin your cunt."

Chan: Not lasting many days...Simply because he gets so carried away with how much he loves and needs you, how much he wants to show you that. Once you give him those eyes and a “daddy I need you, my cunt hurts I need you so bad," he crumbles. "Daddy's gonna give you whatever you want babygirl just keep clenching...just like that princess," as he's deep stroking you.

Han: Lasting not even a day. In fact, November 1st, he made a mess in his pants just thinking of you. It was hard not to, and in his defense, you had looked so peaceful when you woke up next to him, half naked. And the extra pillow was nestled right against his hardened cock putting that perfect pressure to make him shiver with a surprise orgasm. "Mm, c-couldn't help it baby."

Jeongin: He's not lasting because he accidentally works himself up. It all happens backstage when you're helping him prepare his outfit for stage that night, but his pants aren't zipping because his cock is so hard. Lucky for him, it turns out it's a great excuse for him to be able to cum. "Quickie on the couch baby, please."

[write143]

Another Love | part 1

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Words count: 8,539

Warnings for this part: lots of angst, drunk people, drunk Han is petty asf

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

A/N: So I made that pool asking if I should post this fic in chapters or a 20,000+ words chapter and the long ass chapter won but at the time my mind told me I would be able to finish the whole fic before posting it... Jokes on me I need validation and feedback for me to write so yeah let's do this in chapters, sorry

A/N2: I had this idea for quite some time now but got suddenly inspired listening to the song another love.

You're done. Really, you can't take it anymore. You've known Han Jisung since elementary school, you have been basically joined at the hip since then, your parents even became best friends because of you two.

You don't know exactly when you fell in love with him, was it on your second day at school when he invited you to play with him because he noticed you were all alone? Was it when someone made an awkward joke about your messed up hair cut in second grade and he picked a fight with them? Maybe it was the very first moment you laid eyes on him, joking around with everyone and being the most popular kid in the classroom. You really can't remember, but the thing you're sure of is: Han Jisung doesn't like you back.

You've always known that, but inside you there was a tiny bit of hope that one day he would wake up and suddenly love you back.

That didn't happen though. You are now 23 and he has never ever shown the smallest amount of romantic interest in you.

"That's fine", you thought to yourself, ever since you realized your feelings for him, "I'm going to stay with him his entire life, that doesn't sound so bad"

Until it started to sound really bad. What are you gonna do? See him getting a girlfriend, then getting engaged and eventually married? Would you always be there on the sidelines listening to his lovesick whines about the woman he loves so much? Would you be the godmother to his children? By then, would you have gotten over him already? Or would you keep this up forever, marrying someone just because you can't stay alone and being in love with your best friend for the rest of your life? That was the moment you knew you had to stop, you can't keep this up.

Coincidentally Han broke up with his last girlfriend a few months ago, you thought that would be a good opportunity for you to be his rebound, yeah, pretty dignified of you.

So you dress up really pretty, hair up, a dress that always made Han compliment you and to finish it off—the necklace he gave you on your 12th birthday.

You think this is it, this is the day you're going to tell him how much you love him and maybe, just maybe he will contemplate giving you a chance.

When he arrives at your shared apartment, with two cans of beer and fried chicken, you give him a cheerful greeting, setting the table and trying to gather courage to speak.

"So, how was practice?", you begin, maybe some small talk will help you relax.

"It was good, we are almost done with the album", he says, typing something on his phone. "How was your day?", he asks, putting the device on the table and looking at you.

"Good, I had class in the morning and tutoring in the afternoon", you take a sip of your beer, "one of the mothers actually recommended me to other parents and I'm gonna start tutoring more students next week"

He smiles, "that's good, you're really smart"

You blush, bringing the back of your hands to your face to try and lessen the hot skin of your cheeks with the cold of your hands.

"Actually, I want to talk to you", you start, it's now or never.

"Sure-", Jisung stops mid sentence when his phone buzzes. "Just a minute", he looks at the screen and smiles, your heart sinks at the sight. You know that smile too well, you have seen it dozens of times. You feel your insides turning over. It's the smile meant only for the person he likes.

"Hey, Lia. Yeah, totally, I can talk right now", he picks up the call and once again asks you for a minute lifting his index finger, he walks towards the balcony and closes the glass door after going through it.

He's laughing about something, is she even that funny or is he just trying to win her favor? She's pretty, you know it. All of his girlfriends looked like models. You sigh, looking at yourself and feeling awful, suddenly you don't feel pretty anymore, you actually feel ridiculous.

Why did you think things would change just because you got brave enough to speak up? Jisung sees you as a best friend and nothing more, you have to come to terms with that.

Your mind is rushing, thinking about what you're going to do now? Can you keep being friends with him? Yeah, of course, he's your best friend, you won't end your friendship because you can't control your feelings. But you'll need time, right? You won't be able to get over this unrequited love if you keep seeing him everyday, doing everything with him and sleeping in the same house.

"So, what do you want to talk about?", he asks, sitting again. You didn't even notice he had come back inside.

You sigh, you'll tell him about it all and then you'll find the strength in you to move on.

"I like you", you say so low you're not sure he heard you. But he did, he smiles and chuckles.

"I like you too, we're best friends for a reason", he stretches his arm to take a fried chicken.

"No, I like like you", you admit, hugging yourself, feeling cold suddenly, you look around and see Han left the door to the balcony open. "I've been in love with you since I can remember", you complete.

The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't tragic, his brows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes have a very familiar look: fear. Of course, he's afraid of losing his best friend, you already guessed that much.

"Y/N I-", you notice his breathing quickening. "I'm sorry, I never knew", he says, shoulders slumping, his arms dropping to the side of his body.

"Yeah, I know you didn't", you say. He's still staring at you with so much hurt in his eyes. Jisung knows he will have to turn you down and it's going to hurt him a lot, but not as much as it will hurt you and he never ever wanted to hurt you. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say", he takes a deep breath, "I never thought about you in that way, I'm really sorry, I don't feel the same"

You're not going to cry, you decided that the moment you saw fear in his eyes. It's not his fault you like him, he can't fall in love with you just because you love him. You're not going to cry and make him feel worse than you can tell he's already feeling. But listening to those words it's worse than you could have expected, you feel like the world is crumbling around you.

"I know you don't", you smile sadly.

He looks more confused now.

"Then, why did you tell me?"

"It's just… I'm done with all this", you reply, getting up from your chair.

"Done with our friendship?" Han can feel all the air leaving his body while he waits for your answer.

You chuckle, fidgeting with your foot.

"No, I don't think I could ever be done with that", you smile trying to reassure him and he feels so relieved. "I can't keep doing this, I can't continue seeing you with other people and stay hurting alone"

"I can stop bringing people to the apartment and I'll never talk about them around you", he says trying to help and your stomach sinks a lot more. Why does he have to be so sweet?

"Actually, I'll need some time", you clear your throat, "I think I'm going to stay with Seungmin for the time being, he is looking for a roommate"

Han's eyes widen and he gets up, walking towards you.

"What are you talking about? Are you going to move out?"

"It's not something definitive, I'm going to stay there until he finds a new roommate and come back after that", you take a step back, noticing how close he is to you. "Luckily by then I'll be over you, I think I just need some personal space for now, where you're not there everytime I look, or your things aren't mixed with mine or your scent isn't around every room"

"Will you still speak to me?", he asks, he wants to hug you, to hold you in his arms and say how sorry he is for not feeling the same. But he knows he can't, the best thing he can do is to keep his distance from you right now.

"I think we should keep it restricted to apartment things for now, I'll keep paying my half of the rent since my things will still be here"

"You don't have to pay if you're not here"

Ever since Jisung started making good money he insisted that you didn't have to pay for rent since you only work part time as a tutor to pay for your living expenses but you always refused. Even though he earns a lot more than you it wouldn't be fair for him to be the only one paying and honestly, you felt that if he was the only one paying for it, you would feel too much like you were a couple.

"No, I'll pay you. This arrangement doesn't change the fact that we still share the apartment"

He nods, looking down, the awkward silence making you sick.

"I'm really sorry I hurt you", he whispers and all the crying you avoided over this whole conversation threatens to come out at that exact moment.

"It's not your fault", you say, "I'm sorry I made things awkward, just give me some time and we'll be back to how things were, okay?", you give him a reassuring smile even though you're not sure things will ever go back to the way it was.

You wake up feeling like shit, you cried your eyes out the moment you stepped into Seungmin's apartment. He was so sweet to you, staying awake until you calmed down and even offered you his room for you to sleep but you refused. He was already doing you a favor by letting you stay on his couch until he found a roommate.

You sit, stretching yourself, you slept pretty comfortably but all the stress from last night left your muscles sore.

"Are you feeling better?", you hear Seungmin's voice and look at the kitchen, he's making coffee. That reminds you of all the days you woke Han up with a nice and hot coffee so he wouldn't be in a bad mood waking up so early.

"I don't think so", you answer, shaking your head like that would make your thoughts disappear. "Can you get me some of that?", you ask and he smiles.

"Already on it", you start tidying up the blanket and the pillow you used.

"What are you going to do today?", Seungmin asks while you sit at the table.

"I have some tutoring to do and class in the afternoon, maybe I'll go shopping with Hannah later"

"That's good, try to keep yourself entertained at least for the next couple of days", he hands you the mug and you nod.

All your friends knew about your crush on Han and you made all of them swear they wouldn't tell him. You were afraid things would be awkward now, since Han was their friend before you met them, but they all showed you support now that you had confessed.

Hannah had offered you to stay with her, but she has a roommate that's really strict about everything in their apartment and you don't want to cause trouble to your friend by staying there. Luckily Seungmin's last roommate had moved a couple of weeks ago and he was looking for someone new, but by the way he's picky that's not going to happen so soon.

"Since I'll be staying here and you won't accept money because I won't be using a room, the groceries will be on me and I won't accept no for an answer", you say finishing your coffee and getting up. Seungmin sighs, rolling his eyes.

"I know you're going to buy it anyway, so I'll accept it"

"Then send me a list of whatever you need and I'll buy it tonight or tomorrow", you blow him a kiss, picking your bag from the floor and heading to the bathroom.

You take a long, hot, refreshing shower and pick some comfortable clothes to go to your tutoring session.

Seungmin's already gone when you go back to the kitchen, there's a message from him on your phone.

Minnie: I left some sliced fruit in the fridge for you, eat before going out.

Minnie: I'll send you the list later btw

You smile, having someone taking care of you is nice. For a second, it makes you forget the reason why you're there to begin with.

You feel like crying again, but you can't show up to your students house with red eyes and a puffy face.

The parents that are near each other usually ask you to teach their children together in longer sessions. That strengthens the bond the kids have while strengthening the connection between the families. That usually happens when the families are wealthy, they see an opportunity in their children's friendship to get on each other's good side.

Your parents started hanging out with Jisung's parents too, not because of connections but because you two were always in each other's houses. Once, you broke your arm falling from a tree you tried to climb following Han, his mother had to call yours and calm her down on the phone the entire time your mother was driving to the hospital to meet you. That day you got scolded by both and after they finished the lecture they looked at each other and smiled, bonding over the fear of something happening to their precious child.

When they went out to buy some coffee and talk, Jisung sat by the side of your hospital bed, lips pouting and tearing up.

"I'm sorry I dared you to follow me all the way up there", he says, taking the hand of your good arm and holding it.

"It's okay, now at least I have an exciting story to tell the others", you say and he smiles, whipping his eyes.

The noise of the gate opening wakes you up from your daydream, you have to stop thinking about Han if you want to get over him.

The kids come running in your direction the moment the housekeeper opens the door.

"Miss Y/N, look I got a 9.5 on my test", the girl smiles brightly showing you the paper with the grade marked in red.

"Woah, Misu, you're so smart, I don't think you even need me anymore", you bend to her height and she pouts, sometimes she acts like a little child when she's already 12.

"Of course I need you, you're the prettiest and smartest person I know", she says and you hear someone clear their throats by the stairs. It's Misu's mother.

"If I didn't agree with her I'd be hurt", she says and you smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kim, I only helped a little, Misu's really smart", you say and the girl shows you her white teeth, looking at her mother and waiting for some praise.

"Of course she is", she pats the girl's head. "Eun, aren't you going to say hi to Y/N?"

The boy is a few months younger than Misu but a lot more shy. You saw him coming with her when you arrived but got so engrossed in your conversation that forgot he was there in silence.

"Hello, miss Y/N", he says, polite as ever.

"Hi, Eun, did you get a good grade like Misu?"

He nods, showing you his test with 9.8 marked in red.

"He's smarter than me", Misu pouts.

"Congratulations, Eun", you say, patting his head, making him blush and you smile. "I think you are both really smart and I'm here to help you get even smarter"

Mrs. Kim tells you to go ahead and start the lesson and invites you to stay for lunch. You were pretty lucky with the parents you met till now, all of them were nice to you and cared a great deal about their children so it's a lighthearted job to do.

The kids are indeed smart, usually you don't have to explain the same thing more than twice and they always ask a lot of questions during your time with them.

A week goes by since you last saw Jisung, fortunately he didn't try contacting you. You're sure that if he did you'd break hearing his voice and would beg for him to like you back, giving up on any pride you still have left.

You arrive at school an hour before your classes begin, you're meeting Hannah at the cafe nearby so you can talk a bit.

You look at your phone, there's a message from her saying she's on the bus but the traffic is awful so she might be a little bit late.

You choose a table by the window, contemplating if you should order already or wait till Hannah arrives.

Looking outside, you remember the moment you heard the news that you got into this university. Yours and Jisung's family were at your parents house, you both were seated on the couch when you received the message saying the college entrance results came out. You couldn't type your information, you were trembling so much Han had to do it for you.

When you read your name and the word "accepted" you actually screamed, making your mother drop the plate she had in hands. Your father and Han's came running to see what happened when Jisung showed them the screen.

Your mother and father embraced you, telling how proud they were of you and Jisung's parents did the same, like you were their own daughter.

Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you and making you burst out laughing. That moment was so good, you wanted to stay there forever.

"Earth to Y/N", you hear Hanna's voice and snap out of your thoughts, sighing. "Is everything okay?", she asks, worried.

"Yeah, I'm good", you say and she narrows her eyes, knowing you are not telling the truth.

Hannah left it at that though, you are going through a hard time and she doesn't want to push it.

Honestly, she don't expect you to be fine. Your lifelong crush had rejected you and to make things worse he is your best friend, so yeah, of course you are not okay.

"Then, I'm going to order", she drops her bag in the seat in front of you, "your usual?"

You nod, seeing her walk to the cashier. You met Hannah three years ago, when you started college. She's the total opposite of you, really outgoing and a total social butterfly, it seems those are the people you attract seeing how Han is the same.

She sat by your side on the first day, making a random joke and making you laugh, that's how she became your best friend. You didn't even have to tell her about your one sided love, she had to see only one interaction between you and Jisung to know exactly what was going on.

She is the one that urged you to tell him about your feelings and was very adamant about you moving on from him, she couldn't let you waste all your 20's being in love with someone that didn't like you back… or not the way you wanted to.

"So, I heard about a party", Hannah says, putting the pager on the table and sitting in front of you.

"There's like a hundred of those, you have to be more specific", you joke and she rolls her eyes.

"You know that guy from English literature? The one that dyed his hair pink last semester?"

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to forget about him", you laugh.

When Yunho came to school with pink hair a rumor of him becoming an idol started going around, everyone tried to be nice to him and all that shit but it turned out he just lost a bet.

"He's hosting this party in like a really big fancy place to celebrate his graduation", she finishes.

"That's nice", you say, fidgeting with your fingers under the table.

"Hmmm, are we going to go or what?", she asks and you glance at her.

"Were we invited?"

"Ahm, you're hot and I'm hot, why wouldn't we be invited?"

You laugh, knowing what she's doing. Hannah is more sensible than you give her credit for, you really thought she would ask about everything that happened on that night, but instead she has been trying to distract you for the past week and that is really nice of her.

She smiles, seeing you smile. Hannah knows you never give enough credit to yourself, you never think you're pretty enough, funny enough, cool enough or smart enough even though you're those things and much more. She approached you on your first day because there's just something about you, something bright and cheerful. When people are upset, mad or sad you always do your best to make them feel better, so Hannah felt this was her time to cheer you up.

The pager buzzes on the table and she gets up, going to the counter to get your orders.

You look at her coming back with a big grin in her lips, handing you the coffee with a note glued to the cup sleeve.

"To the girl with the yellow cardigan, I see you coming here often and I think you're cute, maybe we can hangout sometime? If you're up to it, text me: xxx xxxx-xxxx"

You blush, looking at the counter and seeing the cutest guy looking at you with flushed cheeks. He's so red you can see it from where you're seated. He smiles waving at you and you wave back.

Hannah has one eyebrow lifted looking at your interaction and you feel your cheeks even hotter.

"So, are you going to text him?", she asks, reading the note and you sigh.

"I don't think so", you say, sipping at your coffee.

"Why not?"

"I don't think it would be fair to someone if I start something with them when I'm still in love with someone else", you answer and Hannah sighs.

"Yeah, you have a point", she pouts, "but like, maybe messing around a little won't hurt? I mean, he's not in love with you or anything, you can talk with each other and see where things go"

Hannah's right and you know it. Even though it's still too soon, you should try meeting new people, you're not going to get over Han just by staying away from him.

This feelings, you have it with you for so long, it's hard to let it go. Loving Han is the only romantic feeling you have ever known, it's scary to walk off of this thing you know so well  to something completely new.

You have to, though. It's the only way for your friendship to keep existing. So you nod to Hannah, taking your phone out of your pocket and dialing the number written on the cup, seconds later you're typing a message.

You: Hey, it's the girl in the yellow cardigan, my name is Y/N btw

You send and hear a ping, you thought he would have his phone on silent mode and sudden embarrassment creeps up when you see him taking his phone out of the pocket of his apron.

Cute guy: Hey, I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, so let me apologize first. I just didn't know how to approach you

Cute guy: Ah, and I'm Heeseung

You change the name in his contact before replying.

You: it didn't make me uncomfortable and thank you for calling me cute.

Heeseung: you don't have to thank me for telling the truth.

You giggle, it's interesting to feel like this, even though you can tell it's something temporary.

You: lol, you're really smooth.

"Let's go?", Hannah says, smirking at you and you blush. You nod, picking your things up and getting up from the table, you wave goodbye to Heeseung before going out and he smiles brightly at you.

>><<

The morning after you went away, Han woke up feeling awful, all the things that happened the previous night coming back at him at the same time. He was sure the moment you walked out of the door, giving him your best smile and trying not to cry was the saddest he ever felt in his entire life. You were his best friend, you were everything to him, he felt like shit because he never noticed your feelings. He doesn't know what he would have done if he knew, but maybe he could have been better, talking less about his relationships and especially not bringing his hook ups to the apartment.

He got up, feeling like crying everytime he had to pass by your bedroom door, knowing you were not there and wouldn't be for far too long, all because of him. The bell rings and he runs to the door, hoping it's you, hoping you'll tell him everything was a joke and that you didn't actually like him. Even though he knows you wouldn't press the doorbell since you know the password and he knows the hurt in your eyes when he said he didn't feel the same as you was no joke.

So it was no surprise when he opened the door and found Chan and Changbin there. They did tell him they were going to stop by in the morning to pick him up but with all the things that happened he just forgot about it.

"Are you okay? You look like shit", Changbin says entering the house.

Chan looks at Han, worried.

"Are you sick?", he asks, "where's Y/N?" He knows you wouldn't leave Han alone if he were sick, but you would have shown up already by hearing Changbin's loud voice.

"She's gone", Han says, running his hands through his hair.

"What do you mean?", Chan asks with wide eyes.

"She- she confessed to me and I turned her down", he says, maybe he should have told you he could like you back, that way he wouldn't be feeling this way and you'd still be there with him.

"Shit", Changbin says, his lips pressed in a thin line.

Han looks at the both of them, why don't they look surprised?

"You guys knew about it?" He asks, a little louder than his usual voice and the boys exchange a look. "Woah, thanks for the heads up"

He shouldn't be mad at them, it's not their fault, but he's already too mad at himself so he doesn't know where else to put the blame.

"It was not our place to tell you", Chan says.

"Does everyone know?", Han asks and Changbin nods, "so I was the only one? Am I dumb or something?"

Chan sighs, "it's not really your fault for not knowing, you probably are used to the way Y/N looks and talks to you because you're best friends since you were children, but to the people outside it is pretty clear from the get go that she likes you"

"But where did she go? Are you not friends anymore?", Changbin asks the difficult questions and Chan glares at him.

"She said she will be staying with Seungmin till he finds a roommate and then she's going to come back"

"She probably just needs some time", Chan says, putting a hand on Han's shoulder trying to reassure him, and he really hopes that's the case.

>><<

You've been texting Heeseung for a few days now and he's pretty nice, he's a dance major and works part time at the cafe to pay for living expenses the same as you do with tutoring.

Hannah had convinced you to go to Yunho's party and get wasted, saying you need the college life experience the most now that you had your first heartbreak but you don't want to think about that, you want to forget that you ever loved Han Jisung.

So you drink a whole bottle of wine before leaving for the party, Seungmin's coming with you and Hannah will meet you there. You are looking good, or maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel good, your hair is down, you're wearing a black lace cropped top you borrowed from Hannah, with a much lower neckline than you are used to, high waisted jeans and black boots.

The party is already crowded when you and Seungmin get there and it's really a fancy place like Hannah told you.

"Let's grab a drink", you yell to Seungmin.

"You should drink water, you're already drunk", he demands and you show your tongue to him.

"Nooooo, don't be a killjoy"

He sighs, it's hard to convince you of something when you're sober, it's even harder when you're drunk.

"You can have a drink after you drink a cup of water", he tells you and you nod, sounds like a win win for you.

After drinking a whole cup of water you show it to him, waiting for a praise and Seungmin rolls his eyes. What are you, a 10 year old?

"Good job, now you can drink", he gives you a cup with something mixed in it, "but you have to drink some water for each drink you take, okay?"

"Okay, dad", you joke, sipping your drink.

Seungmin knows a lot of people at the party and you feel left out every time someone approaches him so you're really happy when Hannah shows up, with a much taller boy accompanying her.

"Look who I found", she says pointing at him.

"Heeseung?", you scream, startling Seungmin who's close to you.

"Jesus, Y/N, calm down", he says putting his hand over his ear, "I'm a singer, I can't lose my hearing", he says and you pout, whining an apology even though you know he's not really mad.

"I didn't know you were gonna be here", Heeseung gets closer to you, side eyeing Seungmin.

"I didn't want to come, Hannah made me", you tell him, "this is Seungmin, he's my friend"

He nods at the boy by your side, relaxing to hear you call Seungmin a friend.

"Hey, Minnie, let's go dance?", Hannah says and Seungmin narrows his eyes suspiciously.

"I don't dance", he answers, crossing his arms and she sighs.

"For fucking sake, just come with me", she says and Seungmin follows her without more questions, he knows too well not to mess with her when she gets angry.

"You look really pretty", Heeseung says, bending a little to lessen the difference in your height. You blush even though it's not as good hearing him saying that as it was when Han complimented you, but you're trying to get over that, aren't you?

"Thanks, you look hot too", you hiccup, you don't have a filter when you're drunk. He smiles, turning around on the table and pouring you a cup of water.

"Drink this, it's going to help", he hands it to you.

"Thank you, you're so sweet and handsome", you yell again but he doesn't flinch like Seungmin did.

"You can't keep saying these kinds of things and not want me to kiss you", he says and you smile, sly.

"Who says I don't want that?", the moment he comprehends what you just said his face reddens, and he thought he was being bold.

"Once you sober up we can talk about that", he tells you and you pout. You wanted to kiss him now, maybe if you did all the hurt you were feeling would go away. Maybe you just needed someone to make you forget about Jisung.

"But I want it now", you cross your arms, behaving like a child that didn't get their way.

"Do you like dancing?", he changes the subject. Your face brightens with his question.

"I LOVE dancing", you show him the choreography to queencard that's playing on the dance floor and he laughs at your messy steps, he's sure you're much better at it while sober.

"Then drink this and let's dance", he hands you another cup of water.

"Seungmin told me I could have a drink after a cup of water, but this makes two cups of water and no drink", you point out and Heeseung can't help but find the drunk you really cute.

"This water will help you so you won't have a bad hangover tomorrow", he says and you nod, that's a good point.

Super by seventeen starts playing and you finish downing the water, grabbing Heeseung's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.

Being a dance major, of course he knows the steps and he's so good there are moments you just stop and watch him in a daze. Actually, he knows the steps to every song playing after that too, you dance so much you're all sweaty and your legs are tired. You're totally sober now, feeling ecstatic. It's so good being at a party having so much fun.

You're jumping and smiling until you see him.

You stop in your tracks seeing Han Jisung staring at you from the other side of the dance floor, your smile fades away as soon as your eyes lock with his.

He looks sick, he lost a lot of weight considering the short period of time you haven't seen each other and he wasn't smiling like he always did. He takes a step in your direction and you automatically step away, your stomach sinking.

You're feeling your heart beat so fast it's overlapping with the loud music, you gulp feeling your legs weaken, why the hell are you having this reaction? He's the same Han Jisung you've known since you were a child, the only difference now is that he knows how you feel about him.

You can't avoid him until you get over your feelings, that won't work and you know it, you have to get used to being near him feeling nothing other than friendship, but you can't see him at that moment, you just can't. You're having fun, there's a handsome guy with you and you want to like him and not Jisung.

You grab Heeseung's hand and pull him away from the dance floor, walking outside so you can breathe some fresh air.

"Did something happen?", he asks, looking confused and worried.

"It just felt stiff in there for a moment", you say and he nods.

You didn't want to explain to him why you were not speaking to your best friend and how messed up your relationship with Han is right now. You want to forget about it and your way of doing it is right by your side, handsome and available.

"So, about that thing you said we could do once I sobered up… I'm sober now", you say and he blushes, analyzing you for a moment to see if you are telling the truth.

The last drink you took was more than an hour ago and you drank so much water after that, it's a miracle you still don't have to use the toilet.

"I don't want to do something you'll regret later", he says and you appreciate how considerate he is. But right now you don't want someone considerate, you want someone that'll sweep you off your feet and help you forget what you so desperately want to. So you get closer, caging him against the wall and tiptoeing, trying to get closer to his face.

"If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you're holding back because you think I'm drunk, I'm not", that was his cue to kiss you. His lips crashing sloppily onto yours, hands cupping your face then moving down to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck trying to get closer than you already are. He's good, you've kissed enough people in your life to know that, yet you feel sick.

You feel bad and like a horrible person because you just know he can't compare to Jisung even though you never kissed your best friend.

You feel bad thinking about someone else while kissing Heeseung, he's so nice and sweet and you know he's not fooling around, if you give him the chance he's going to truly like you and you're only using him.

You step away sighing, seeing his brows furrowed and the confusion in his eyes.

"Was it that bad?", he jokes but you can see he's feeling hurt. "I'm not trying to brag, but I never got a reaction like that after a kiss"

You smile apologetically, looking for words to explain yourself.

"It was great and you're great", you begin, "I think you're too sweet, that's why I can't lead you on"

"What are you talking about?" he asks, even more confused.

"I'm in love with someone else and I know it sounds awful, I did try to get over him with you but I feel like you'll really like me if we don't stop right now and I'm not sure if I'll be able to be that person for you", you look at him, seeing the disappointment in his face. "I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person and you can hate me if you want"

He stares at you for a few moments, sighing and giving you a reassuring smile after.

"I don't think you're terrible, I think you're truly brave for coming clean like that", you're relieved, you were afraid he would say something mean and even though you feel like you deserve it, you're really fragile right now. "Thank you for telling me before I got too deep into this and I don't know, maybe we can be friends?"

"Absolutely, I would love that"

"So, do you want to go back inside?", he asks and you shake your head.

"I don't think so, I should probably go home", you say, you don't want to go back there to see Han again.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"It's okay, I'm going to text Seungmin and see where he's at but you can go inside, I'm going to stay here and get some more fresh air"

"Alright, I'll see you at the cafe"

You nod, seeing him walk away. Woah, you just let that masterpiece of a man go because you can't forget about a fucking unrequited love. You curse yourself, slapping your forehead.

After that, you text Seungmin telling where you are and asking where the hell he and Hannah went, sending the same message to her and waiting for their answer.

You sit on the grass, taking a deep breath. You feel a bit sick after seeing Jisung, you never thought you'd feel that way. Never in your worst nightmares did you think you would be afraid to talk to him, maybe you're scared of talking to him and feeling nothing, what if all of this was just in your head and you just needed some time apart to figure it out?

You hear steps close to you and pray it's not some horny couple trying to fuck near you, however, the moment you lay eyes on your best friend you actually wish it was a horny couple.

You get up in a jump, your stomach sinking and your head spinning. Why does it hurt so much suddenly? It feels like your chest is being torn apart and you can't do a thing to make it better.

Jisung looks worse up close, he has huge bags under his eyes and he's too pale.

You're worried about him, even though you can't have the luxury of that. Not when your insides are all messed up and you want to throw up. You walk past him without saying a word, you can't handle this right now, but he grabs your wrist holding you in place. You don't look at him, staring at the floor trying to get out of his grip.

"I miss you", he says and your heart drops to your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? It's not like being apart from your best friend is fun to you. "Can't you look at me?", he pleads but you can't find the courage to do that yet. "Please", but he sounds so desperate, you force yourself to do it.

You look at him, he's obviously drunk. Who the hell let him drink this much?

"What is it?", you sound more spiteful than you were planning and his eyes widen, releasing your arm from his grasp.

"Do you hate me now?", he asks and you sigh.

"Of course I don't hate you, you're my best friend", you say that but for some reason it doesn't feel right, it doesn't sound like the truth.

"Can't you come back home? I feel like shit everytime I wake up and you're not there"

"I told you I need time", you say, running your hands through your hair.

"Are you going to forget about me by fucking some random dude?", he asks and you glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't understand how that's any of your business"

"It is, because you told me you love me but you act like you never want to see my face again", he scoffs.

You feel mad, what's he trying to say? Should you keep hurting just because you love him?

"I can't sit around forever, waiting for you to look at me", you say and he steps closer to you.

"I'm looking at you right now, I- I'll be good to you, I'll like you back", the moment he finishes saying that, you can't control the tears running through your eyes.

Is that supposed to be good? He would be forced to date you so he could have you close to him?

"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask and he takes a step back startled with you tears, suddenly sobering up, "it's not easy for me to be away from you, you're my best friend, but I do have some bit of dignity left in me and I won't accept less than I deserve, even if that less is the man I love with me", you wipe your tears seeing him step closer, trying to reach your hand and you step away, "don't come close to me right now, I could never stay with you knowing you don't love me, you should know that"

You turn around trying to get away from him but stop on your tracks seeing Hannah, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin right there looking at you awkwardly. Of course, the humiliation is the cherry on the top. You pass through them feeling so embarrassed you want the earth to swallow you.

The ride home is awkward and silent. Hannah and Seungmin keep exchanging looks while you look out the window trying to figure how your life became this mess.

You really should have dated Jeongho when he asked you out in middle school, it was around that time that you realized you liked Han more than just a friend—when Haneul asked to be his date to the school festival and you wanted to punch her so hard. Maybe if you had dated that boy at that time you would have forgotten the feelings you had for your friend, maybe you would have brushed it off as some childhood crush, but no, you rejected Jeongho while Han went with Haneul to the school festival and you third wheeled the whole event earning nasty glances from her every time your best friend played two times the same game so he could win you a plush too.

Back then you still thought everything would be okay, if only you had him everything would be okay.

You start bawling without notice, crying so much you can't even breathe. Seungmin stops the car and Hannah gets to the back, hugging you and caressing your hair while whispering that everything will be fine and you really want to believe her.

You don't know how you got into Seungmin's apartment, you guess he carried you inside after dropping Hannah home but you're not sure. It's sunday so he's not up yet for you to ask and it doesn't actually matter, what matters is the absolutely pathetic scene you made at the party and in the car. You want to bury yourself into a hole and never come back, how the hell are you going to face your friends after they saw you being humiliated by Han like that?

You know he was drunk, of course he was. You know he didn't mean it, he was hurt and drunk and people act on feelings not reason when they are like that. But does he think you have no pride? Does he really think you would date him knowing he doesn't like you back?

It's different when you confessed to him, you knew he didn't like you that way. But if he told you that there was something there, that he was not going to promise you anything but someday he may like you back, that's all you needed to hear. However, that didn't happen. He told you with all the words that he doesn't like that way, that he doesn't feel the same way as you do, there was no room for interpretation, no room for what if's.

You get up, in need to distract yourself. This week is going to fly by, you have tutoring lessons using up all your free time so you just have to get through the day.

There are a lot of messages on your phone, you really don't want to read them because you know that other than Hannah's, it's awkward comforting words from your other friends.

Hannah: call me when you wake up

Hannah: let's go eat something delicious, what do you think? It's on me.

Hannah: are you still not up or are you ignoring me?

You: I just woke up, calm down girl

You: why would I ignore you though? I just have to brush my teeth and eat something then I'll call you.

Binnie: morning babes

Binnie: Hannie is such an asshole

Binnie: I'll date you if you want, you're hot it's a win win for me

You chuckle to Changbin texts, he's so sweet in the weirdest way.

You: I mean, you're hot too

You: I think we'd make an awesome couple

Chan: good morning, Y/N

Chan: we didn't hear anything last night, so please, don't be awkward or embarrassed around us.

You: good morning Channie, I know you heard

You: you should have matched your story with Changbin before texting me though

You: it's okay, alright? Of course I'll be embarrassed for the time being, but we're friends I won't be embarrassed forever.

You leave your phone on the couch and go to the bathroom. You look like shit, smeared makeup, hair disgusting and you're still wearing the same clothes. You turn on the hot water, taking your clothes off and entering the shower, the warmth embracing you as you feel more relaxed.

You put on something comfortable, it's Sunday, you're going to ask Hannah to come by and you're going to order takeout.

You call her number while eating because you know she's anxious.

"Hey babes, good morning", she picks up, cheerful as always.

"Good morning", you say, biting the toast you just made.

"So, what about going out and eating something really good?", she asks.

"Hm, I'm actually not in the mood to go out? Can't you come by, we order something and watch that movie you've been bugging me for the last month?"

"Yeah, sure. We can do that", she answers and you are happy she doesn't sound upset or disappointed. With all the shit you're pulling lately you're scared your friends are going to get tired of your bullshit and stop talking to you. You used to think no one wanted a friend that's always crying and whining, but they showed you that real friends help each other.

"So what time are you gonna come?"

"I will just take a shower and wait for the bus, so in maybe like an hour?", she guesses and you nod forgetting she can't see you.

"Okay, see you then"

You decide to clean the house while waiting, Seungmin is pretty organized and clean so there's nothing too difficult. You'll just wash the dishes and vacuum a little.

Hannah arrives later than she predicted, Seungmin is already up and cleaning his room. He scolded you because it's his day to do the dishes and you shouldn't have done it because it's not fair to you.

You think he's being extra nice to you because of what happened the night before and it's true, he was really scared when you cried in his car.

He has known you for almost five years and he never saw you cry like that, even on the night you came to his house after confessing to Han you didn't cry like that. This time was different, you had a soul crushing cry, he wanted to stop the car and go to the back to hug you the same as Hannah, but he knew you were already being comforted by the perfect person.

Han is his friend, he could never choose between you two. But he couldn't deny it, that was a dick move, how could he ever say that to someone that likes him? He basically told you that he could pretend to like you if you stayed with him.

And of course, Seungmin understands the fear of losing a friend, but doing what he did just increases the chances of you never wanting to see his face again.

You are seated on the couch, watching the movie Hannah is obsessed with at the moment. She already watched it five times alone and asks anyone she can find to watch it again with her, she even repeats some sentences together with the characters.

The pizza you ordered is almost gone, you didn't know you were so hungry until the smell hit your nose. Luckily or thanks to Seungmin and Heeseung, your hangover is not that bad and you want it to stay that way so you keep drinking lots of water.

You got through the day thanks to your friends, they kept you entertained the whole time so you wouldn't overthink or even think about Han.

You are doing that just now, looking at the ceiling in the dark room. You want it all to be a dream, maybe you would wake up tomorrow and still be in middle school, you'd take the opportunity and get over him at that time, that would have spared you of some big problems.

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

A/N: So, I don't know how many parts this fic will have. If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing.

#tbr

[write143]

A Work Proposal Masterlist

Pairing: O8T x reader Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Content All parts of this piece are strictly 18+ and contain explicit material reader discretion is advised and the author will not be responsible should prior warnings be ignored.

You had been working with Stray Kids for a while now and after a long day at work turns into a very unexpected but intriguing proposal. Will this change your world or end your career.

Intro Part 1 (Chan x reader) Part 2 (Chan x reader x Changbin) Part 3 (Hyunjin x reader) Part 4 (Han x reader x Felix) Part 5 (Jeongin x reader) Part 6 (Seungmin x reader) Part 7 (Lee Know x reader) Interlude (Chan x reader) Part 8 (Felix x reader) Part 9 (Changbin x reader) Part 10 (Hyunjin x reader x Felix) Part 11 (Seungmin x reader x Lee Know) Part 12 (Changbin x reader x Han) Part 13 (Chan x reader) Part 14 (Han x reader) Part 15 (Changbin x reader x Felix) Part 16 (Jeongin x reader)

Taglist is now closed xx

#tbr

[write143]

What are some of your favorite SKZ fics?

I'm looking to add to my reading list, but there's over 50k (complete) fics on AO3 alone...not to mention what's on Tumblr already!

Any rating, any ships, anything goes!!

#fic recs #ao3 fanfic #stray kids fic #fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #fanfic

[write143]

Change Notes

Added to My Favorite (Finished) Fics: "Heart Song" "Speak With Your Eyes" "so sweet like chocolate"

Added to To Be Read/Reading List: "fool me once (kiss me twice)" "lyrics of an improvised love song" "When the Morning Comes" "Gravity" "on my lips (your laughter is the sweetest" "to build a legacy" "Love In The Time of Corporate Korea" "Did You Get Enough Love, My Little Dove?" "use me for a feeling (or a good time)" "Bruised Elegance" "don't put off till tomorrow" "worth the drive"

Added to Other Fics I've Finished Reading: "misery loves company" "Darling, let me teach you a lesson" "Rooted in Pain" "Secret Secret" "Faithfully Yours" "Vanilla Scented Oranges" "How to Trust Again" "After Us" "Stars and Teardrops" "For the Wolf" "all in (to you)" "Five-Point Star" "can you kiss me more?" "florescence (can i be close to you?)"

✨Reading Master List

Here's a masterlist of what I have read and/or am reading on AO3! Currently everything I'm reading is primarily SKZ fics (some have referenced TxT or ATEEZ and it's cute) but I'm generally just reading to read and learn what people are writing/passionate about. It's honestly enlightening, in a good way (most times). Reviews are below the cut. ♥

my ao3: think143 🔖 - unfinished work 📗 - completed work 📖 - currently reading/tracking

My Favorite (Finished) Fics

(In order of completion, not best/worst or anything like that)

hands-on learning 💖 (E) 25.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Porn with Feelings, Friends to Lovers My Notes: I thought I would have more to say about this one but it's just really really good. A nice quick nighttime read before bed. There's just something about the ones with "feelings revelation" that make me sooooo happy. And yes, all of the smut is *chef's kiss*.

MFA (Most Fuckable Ass) 💖 (E) 53.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor Lee Minho, Student Han Jisung, Slow Burn, Daddy Kink My Notes: I burned through this fic in an evening and I am fanning myself like a Southern woman in the heat of summer on her front porch. So incredibly well-written, and I've found a fic author that I'll be following closely for a long time.

don't leave me tongue-tied 💖 (E) 57.5k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Porn with Feelings, Light Angst, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Fluff My Notes: This was honestly really endearing to read and see actual feelings come to light. Author commented to say that it's based on a manga called "My Quiet Best Friend's Just Tongue-Tied", but without the dub-con elements. Well-written and reads easily; comical when it needs to be!

Haebang 💖 (E) 193.6k Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble Notable Tags: Fluff, Smut, Porn With Plot, Sex Work, Dom/sub Undertones, Daddy Kink, Explicit Consent, Subspace, Porn with Feelings, BDSM, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Behavior, Feelings Realization, Safewords My Notes: Okay, hear me out; there is a LOT going on in this fic. A lot. The point of the Haebang retreat is that each member specializes in helping you find liberation with one aspect of sex; be it intimacy, dom/sub, etc, and each chapter follows each member at the start before things start to get a bit more involved. However, any time I try to word why I like this fic so much, I simply cannot. Also Seungmin is a nerd and we love him for it.

instinct 💖 (E) 53.4k Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader Notable Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Alternate Universe - College/University, Light Dom/sub My Notes:This was the first ABO fic I read and it makes every other one I've read after it pale in comparison. I love how the author describes what's going on in the reader's head without over-explaining or spoon feeding it to us. The relationship between Reader and Chan, plus all of the other housemates, is so so so good.

come on home 💖 (E) 206.7k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Angst, Smut, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Violence, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Denial of Feelings, Referenced Homophobia, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Feelings Realization, POV Alternating, Gangs, Guns, Shitty Exes My Notes: The guns are there for a split second, but this fic is very centered on a incredibly difficult to read domestic abuse situation, and the liberation from said relationship. There's also the orientation realization of another character, but that instills a lot of angst and fear of loss while reading. However, the fic is still incredible, a powerful read, and definitely on the recommended list.

Wannabe Poet 💖 (E) 134.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Bad Poems, Bullied Han Jisung, Friends with Benefits, Loss of Virginity, Exhibitionism, Smut, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Sexual Assault. My Notes: I'm all about found family and I feel like this fic really hit the nail on the head for it. I loved the concept of this fic from the beginning. Han texts a bad poem to a random number and makes a friend in Minho. Most of this fic seems centered on Han becoming comfortable with his true self and what he wants, not what his family wants for him. I really love the love that he finds not only in Minho, but in everyone around him. ♥

Five Stars 💔 but 💖 (E) 420.7k Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Bang Chan/Lee Minho Notable Tags: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Cannibalism, Dismemberment, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Some Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Grooming, Murder, Mutual Pining, Minor Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Implied/Referenced Suicide My Notes: I have to stress so so so so much that the writing on this fic is one of the best I've ever read. HOWEVER, it's also one of the most fucked up pieces of fiction I've ever read. Mental health issues are at the center of this bloody, sexy, kinky fic. It would truly be a horror movie if it were put onto screen. Please please please make sure to read ALL OF THE TAGS on this fic before deciding whether to read it or not. I had to take frequent breaks but it was difficult to make myself look away because I wanted to know what the hell was going on. I have never screamed so much at a fic before in my life. I cried at least six times and four of those were in the last 50k words.

Heart Song 💖 (E) 63.1k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin, Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Physical Disability My Notes: I just...I cried so much during this fic. In this universe, soulmates are identified by a dream that people have on the night of their 16th birthday. They dream about a significant memory from their soulmate's life, and when they awaken, their soulmate's first impression appears on their body written in their handwriting. The only problem is that...Han Jisung is blind, so he has never seen anything. Lee Minho leads his whole life thinking that he doesn't have a soulmate, because he saw nothing in his dream. I LOVE the author's storytelling style, the way they use angst in believable ways, and the way that they bring the characters together.

Speak With Your Eyes 💖 (E) 164k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Space, Hybrids, Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Space Corps, Miscommunication, Slow Burn, ONLY ONE BED, Found Family, Smut My Notes: A ROMANCE IN SPACE?! Lee Know is an android hybrid, and unfortunately this universe has a lot of not very nice things that are in place regarding people who are not fully human. Lee Know saves Han's life, then Han saves Lee Know's life, then Lee Know saves Han's life again...you get the picture. It's incredibly well-written, a lovely drop into a different setting than I'm used to, and devourable in a day. Will be following this author for a while!

so sweet like chocolate 💖 (T) 71.7k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Fluff My Notes: I cannot stop gushing about this fic. The mutual pining is written incredibly addictingly and just aaaagh! Lee Know is a librarian, Jisung is a student who has never visited the library before, Jisung may have accidently thrown a pencil at Lee Know...it all becomes very fluffy at just the right pace. I read this so quickly and when it was over, and the author's note popped up saying "and that's the end!" I had to check the % progress on my kindle. I would devour any further stories written about this story, but I am also okay with how it ended, and imagining what happens next.

To Be Read/Reading List

Leap of Faith 📖🔖 (M) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Dream Drabbles 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Each chapter is a one-shot with member/reader

Kerosene 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

Charmer 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Quaver and Storm 📖🔖 (E) Notable Tags: SKZ Member/Reader, Dom/Sub, Fluff, Smut, Polyamory, Non-con elements

In Too Deep 📖🔖 (M) Relationship(s): SKZ Member/Reader

The Stray Kids Gang 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

We'll Be Alright 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho

Everything you Crave 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

The Force that Drives the Flower 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Lee Minho

I like the view right now 📖🔖(E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Connected 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Original Female Character

Animals Without Direction 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

A Crack in the Glass 📖🔖(E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Stray Gods 🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

A Glitch 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Seo Changbin

It's In My Blood 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Everything's Prettier Underwater 📗 (G) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Everyone

Saudade 📖📗 (T) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Bang Yedam/Yang Jeongin, Bang Chan/Original Character

fool me once (kiss me twice) 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

lyrics of an improvised love song 📗 (T) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

When the Morning Comes 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Gravity 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

on my lips (your laughter is the sweetest) 📗(G) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

to build a legacy 📗 (E) Relationship(s):Lee Felix/Everyone

Love In The Time Of Corporate Korea 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Did You Get Enough Love, My Little Dove? 📗 (NR) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

use me for a feeling (or a good time) 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Know

Bruised Elegance 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

don't put off till tomorrow 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

worth the drive 📗 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Other Fics I've Finished Reading

Most recent finishes at the top!

florescence (can i be close to you?) (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

can you kiss me more? (E) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Lee Minho

Five-Point Star (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

all in (to you) (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

For the Wolf (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Felix

Stars and Teardrops (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Seo Changbin

After Us (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

How to Trust Again (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Felix, Han Jisung/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Implied Everyone/Everyone

Vanilla Scented Oranges (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Everyone

Faithfully Yours (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Felix

Secret Secret (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho, Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Rooted in Pain (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Darling, let me teach you a lesson. (E) Relationship(s):Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

misery loves company (E) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin

Verbatim (T) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Cheesecake, Sugar Daddies & Other Sweet Things (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin

Yours From the Start (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Scent of You (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Desire (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Hidden Identity (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Everyone

Close Your Eyes (...And Count to Seven) (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Limbo (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Devilish (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Can I Make a Suggestion? (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

In Winter, Dreaming of Spring (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho

Phobia (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

mouth to mouth (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

jumping off in the ocean (T) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

In Need of Sunshine (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Hwang Hyunjin

Lighthouse and North Star (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Bang Chan

Primordial (T) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble, Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

secret secret (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Tangled (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Catch me, if you can (E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Stray Hybrids (T) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

Bark on Bark, Petal Strands (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho, Bang Chan/Everyone

Business Attire (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan (Stray Kids)/Reader

mouth to mouth (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

shotgunning (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

#masterlist change notes #fic recs

[write143]

Yes finally a Sunny masterlist!

Saving this for easier reference later. 💖

𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒜𝒴 𝒦𝐼𝒟𝒮 𝑀𝒜𝒮𝒯𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝒮𝒯

Welcome to my Stray Kids Masterlist! There's a little bit of everything here on my page, I hope you find something that you enjoy <3

Currently, my requests are CLOSED.

(s) = smut (f) = fluff (a) = angst (mc) = multi-chapter

𝒪𝒯𝟪

(mc)(s)(f)(a) Animals Without Direction - Stray Kids Fantasy!AU ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝐵𝒜𝒩𝒢 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝒩

(s) Frottage - Actress!AU (s) Breeding Kink - Friends To Lovers (a)(f) Bad Day - hurt/comfort

𝐿𝐸𝐸 𝒦𝒩𝒪𝒲

(f) Thanksgiving With You - Friends To Lovers (s) A/B/O - Werewolf!AU

𝒮𝐸𝒪 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝒩𝒢𝐵𝐼𝒩

(s) Hate Sex - Gym!AU (f) Christmas Wrapping - Established Relationship Fluff

𝐻𝒲𝒜𝒩𝒢 𝐻𝒴𝒰𝒩𝒥𝐼𝒩

(s) Titfucking - Established Relationship (s) Praise Kink - Detective!AU

𝐻𝒜𝒩 𝒥𝐼𝒮𝒰𝒩𝒢

(s) Orgasm Denial - College!AU (s) Watch Your Six - Secret Agent!AU

𝐿𝐸𝐸 𝐹𝐸𝐿𝐼𝒳

(s) Cockwarming - Secretary!AU

𝒦𝐼𝑀 𝒮𝐸𝒰𝒩𝒢𝑀𝐼𝒩

(s) Dacryphilia - College!AU (a)(f) Just Look Up - Friends to Lovers

𝒴𝒜𝒩𝒢 𝒥𝐸𝒪𝒩𝒢𝐼𝒩

(a)(s) Virginity - Childhood Best Friends to Lovers (a)(f) White Nail Polish - Roommates!AU

#fic recs #tbr

[write143]

Change Notes

Added to My Favorite (Finished) Fics: "Five Stars"

Added to To Be Read/Reading List: "A Crack in the Glass" "Darling, let me teach you a lesson." "Rooted In Pain" "A Glitch" "It's In My Blood" "Everything's Prettier Underwater" "Saudade"

Added to Other Fics I've Finished Reading: "Verbatim" "Cheesecake, Sugar Daddies & Other Sweet Things" "Yours From the Start" "Scent of You" "Desire"

Moved FROM To Be Read TO Finished Reading: "Hidden Identity" "Close Your Eyes (...And Count to Seven)"

✨Reading Master List

Here's a masterlist of what I have read and/or am reading on AO3! Currently everything I'm reading is primarily SKZ fics (some have referenced TxT or ATEEZ and it's cute) but I'm generally just reading to read and learn what people are writing/passionate about. It's honestly enlightening, in a good way (most times). Reviews are below the cut. ♥

my ao3: think143 🔖 - unfinished work 📗 - completed work 📖 - currently reading/tracking

My Favorite (Finished) Fics

hands-on learning 💖 (E) 25.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Porn with Feelings, Friends to Lovers My Notes: I thought I would have more to say about this one but it's just really really good. A nice quick nighttime read before bed. There's just something about the ones with "feelings revelation" that make me sooooo happy. And yes, all of the smut is *chef's kiss*.

MFA (Most Fuckable Ass) 💖 (E) 53.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor Lee Minho, Student Han Jisung, Slow Burn, Daddy Kink My Notes: I burned through this fic in an evening and I am fanning myself like a Southern woman in the heat of summer on her front porch. So incredibly well-written, and I've found a fic author that I'll be following closely for a long time.

don't leave me tongue-tied 💖 (E) 57.5k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Porn with Feelings, Light Angst, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Fluff My Notes: This was honestly really endearing to read and see actual feelings come to light. Author commented to say that it's based on a manga called "My Quiet Best Friend's Just Tongue-Tied", but without the dub-con elements. Well-written and reads easily; comical when it needs to be!

Haebang 💖 (E) 193.6k Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble Notable Tags: Fluff, Smut, Porn With Plot, Sex Work, Dom/sub Undertones, Daddy Kink, Explicit Consent, Subspace, Porn with Feelings, BDSM, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Behavior, Feelings Realization, Safewords My Notes: Okay, hear me out; there is a LOT going on in this fic. A lot. The point of the Haebang retreat is that each member specializes in helping you find liberation with one aspect of sex; be it intimacy, dom/sub, etc, and each chapter follows each member at the start before things start to get a bit more involved. However, any time I try to word why I like this fic so much, I simply cannot. Also Seungmin is a nerd and we love him for it.

instinct 💖 (E) 53.4k Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader Notable Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Alternate Universe - College/University, Light Dom/sub My Notes:This was the first ABO fic I read and it makes every other one I've read after it pale in comparison. I love how the author describes what's going on in the reader's head without over-explaining or spoon feeding it to us. The relationship between Reader and Chan, plus all of the other housemates, is so so so good.

come on home 💖 (E) 206.7k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Angst, Smut, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Violence, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Denial of Feelings, Referenced Homophobia, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Feelings Realization, POV Alternating, Gangs, Guns, Shitty Exes My Notes: The guns are there for a split second, but this fic is very centered on a incredibly difficult to read domestic abuse situation, and the liberation from said relationship. There's also the orientation realization of another character, but that instills a lot of angst and fear of loss while reading. However, the fic is still incredible, a powerful read, and definitely on the recommended list.

Wannabe Poet 💖 (E) 134.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Bad Poems, Bullied Han Jisung, Friends with Benefits, Loss of Virginity, Exhibitionism, Smut, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Sexual Assault. My Notes: I'm all about found family and I feel like this fic really hit the nail on the head for it. I loved the concept of this fic from the beginning. Han texts a bad poem to a random number and makes a friend in Minho. Most of this fic seems centered on Han becoming comfortable with his true self and what he wants, not what his family wants for him. I really love the love that he finds not only in Minho, but in everyone around him. ♥

Five Stars 💔 but 💖 (E) 420.7k Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Bang Chan/Lee Minho Notable Tags: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Cannibalism, Dismemberment, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Some Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Grooming, Murder, Mutual Pining, Minor Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Implied/Referenced Suicide My Notes: I have to stress so so so so much that the writing on this fic is one of the best I've ever read. HOWEVER, it's also one of the most fucked up pieces of fiction I've ever read. Mental health issues are at the center of this bloody, sexy, kinky fic. It would truly be a horror movie if it were put onto screen. Please please please make sure to read ALL OF THE TAGS on this fic before deciding whether to read it or not. I had to take frequent breaks but it was difficult to make myself look away because I wanted to know what the hell was going on. I have never screamed so much at a fic before in my life. I cried at least six times and four of those were in the last 50k words.

To Be Read/Reading List

Leap of Faith 📖🔖 (M) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Dream Drabbles 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Each chapter is a one-shot with member/reader

Kerosene 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

Charmer 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Quaver and Storm 📖🔖 (E) Notable Tags: SKZ Member/Reader, Dom/Sub, Fluff, Smut, Polyamory, Non-con elements

In Too Deep 📖🔖 (M) Relationship(s): SKZ Member/Reader

The Stray Kids Gang 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

We'll Be Alright 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho

Everything you Crave 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

misery loves company 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin

The Force that Drives the Flower 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Lee Minho

I like the view right now 📖🔖(E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Connected 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Original Female Character

Animals Without Direction 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

A Crack in the Glass 📖🔖(E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Darling, let me teach you a lesson. 📖📗 (E) Relationship(s):Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Rooted in Pain 📖📗(M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

A Glitch 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Seo Changbin

It's In My Blood 📗 (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Everything's Prettier Underwater 📗 (G) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Everyone

Saudade 📗 (T) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Bang Yedam/Yang Jeongin, Bang Chan/Original Character

so sweet like chocolate 📗 (T) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Stray Gods 🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

Other Fics I've Finished Reading

Verbatim (T) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Cheesecake, Sugar Daddies & Other Sweet Things (M) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin

Yours From the Start (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Scent of You (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Desire (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Hidden Identity (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Everyone

Close Your Eyes (...And Count to Seven) (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Limbo (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Devilish (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Can I Make a Suggestion? (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

In Winter, Dreaming of Spring (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho

Phobia (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

mouth to mouth (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

jumping off in the ocean (T) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

In Need of Sunshine (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Hwang Hyunjin

Lighthouse and North Star (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Bang Chan

Primordial (T) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble, Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

secret secret (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Tangled (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Catch me, if you can (E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Stray Hybrids (T) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

Bark on Bark, Petal Strands (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho, Bang Chan/Everyone

Business Attire (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan (Stray Kids)/Reader

mouth to mouth (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

shotgunning (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

[write143]

Updated again with some that have been completed and removing others that were taken down from AO3 :(

Still have some that I didn't save to my AO3 bookmarks but have read on my Kindle that I need to add!! Like that cannibal one, God's Menu.

✨Reading Master List

Here's a masterlist of what I have read and/or am reading on AO3! Currently everything I'm reading is primarily SKZ fics (some have referenced TxT or ATEEZ and it's cute) but I'm generally just reading to read and learn what people are writing/passionate about. It's honestly enlightening, in a good way (most times). Reviews are below the cut. ♥

my ao3: think143 🔖 - unfinished work 📗 - completed work 📖 - currently reading/tracking

My Favorite (Finished) Fics

hands-on learning 💖 (E) 25.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Porn with Feelings, Friends to Lovers My Notes: I thought I would have more to say about this one but it's just really really good. A nice quick nighttime read before bed. There's just something about the ones with "feelings revelation" that make me sooooo happy. And yes, all of the smut is *chef's kiss*.

MFA (Most Fuckable Ass) 💖 (E) 53.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor Lee Minho, Student Han Jisung, Slow Burn, Daddy Kink My Notes: I burned through this fic in an evening and I am fanning myself like a Southern woman in the heat of summer on her front porch. So incredibly well-written, and I've found a fic author that I'll be following closely for a long time.

don't leave me tongue-tied 💖 (E) 57.5k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Porn with Feelings, Light Angst, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Fluff My Notes: This was honestly really endearing to read and see actual feelings come to light. Author commented to say that it's based on a manga called "My Quiet Best Friend's Just Tongue-Tied", but without the dub-con elements. Well-written and reads easily; comical when it needs to be!

Haebang 💖 (E) 193.6k Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble Notable Tags: Fluff, Smut, Porn With Plot, Sex Work, Dom/sub Undertones, Daddy Kink, Explicit Consent, Subspace, Porn with Feelings, BDSM, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Behavior, Feelings Realization, Safewords My Notes: Okay, hear me out; there is a LOT going on in this fic. A lot. The point of the Haebang retreat is that each member specializes in helping you find liberation with one aspect of sex; be it intimacy, dom/sub, etc, and each chapter follows each member at the start before things start to get a bit more involved. However, any time I try to word why I like this fic so much, I simply cannot. Also Seungmin is a nerd and we love him for it.

instinct 💖 (E) 53.4k Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader Notable Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Alternate Universe - College/University, Light Dom/sub My Notes:This was the first ABO fic I read and it makes every other one I've read after it pale in comparison. I love how the author describes what's going on in the reader's head without over-explaining or spoon feeding it to us. The relationship between Reader and Chan, plus all of the other housemates, is so so so good.

come on home 💖 (E) 206.7k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Angst, Smut, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Violence, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Denial of Feelings, Referenced Homophobia, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Feelings Realization, POV Alternating, Gangs, Guns, Shitty Exes My Notes: The guns are there for a split second, but this fic is very centered on a incredibly difficult to read domestic abuse situation, and the liberation from said relationship. There's also the orientation realization of another character, but that instills a lot of angst and fear of loss while reading. However, the fic is still incredible, a powerful read, and definitely on the recommended list.

Wannabe Poet 💖 (E) 134.2k Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho Notable Tags: Bad Poems, Bullied Han Jisung, Friends with Benefits, Loss of Virginity, Exhibitionism, Smut, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Sexual Assault. My Notes: I'm all about found family and I feel like this fic really hit the nail on the head for it. I loved the concept of this fic from the beginning. Han texts a bad poem to a random number and makes a friend in Minho. Most of this fic seems centered on Han becoming comfortable with his true self and what he wants, not what his family wants for him. I really love the love that he finds not only in Minho, but in everyone around him. ♥

In Progress Fics

Leap of Faith 📖🔖 (M) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Dream Drabbles 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Each chapter is a one-shot with member/reader

Kerosene 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

Charmer 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Quaver and Storm 📖🔖 (E) Notable Tags: SKZ Member/Reader, Dom/Sub, Fluff, Smut, Polyamory, Non-con elements

In Too Deep 📖🔖 (M) Relationship(s): SKZ Member/Reader

The Stray Kids Gang 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

We'll Be Alright 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho

Everything you Crave 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

misery loves company 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin

The Force that Drives the Flower 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Lee Minho

I like the view right now 📖🔖(E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Connected 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Original Female Character

Animals Without Direction 📖🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

A Crack in the Glass 📖🔖(E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

so sweet like chocolate 📗 (T) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Stray Gods 🔖 (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

Other Fics I've Finished Reading

Scent of You (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Desire (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Hidden Identity (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Everyone

Close Your Eyes (...And Count to Seven) (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Seo Changbin/Reader

Limbo (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Devilish (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

Can I Make a Suggestion? (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

In Winter, Dreaming of Spring (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho

Phobia (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

mouth to mouth (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

jumping off in the ocean (T) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Reader

In Need of Sunshine (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Hwang Hyunjin

Lighthouse and North Star (E) Relationship(s): Lee Felix/Bang Chan

Primordial (T) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble, Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

secret secret (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Tangled (E) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader

Catch me, if you can (E) Relationship(s): Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix

Stray Hybrids (T) Relationship(s): Stray Kids Ensemble/Reader, Stray Kids Ensemble/Stray Kids Ensemble

Bark on Bark, Petal Strands (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan/Lee Minho, Bang Chan/Everyone

Business Attire (E) Relationship(s): Bang Chan (Stray Kids)/Reader

mouth to mouth (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

shotgunning (E) Relationship(s): Han Jisung/Lee Minho

[write143]

I have been reading so many fics that I didn't even update my master list lmao

Someday...

Like I've finished 5 enormous, completed fics at this point while waiting for updates on the ones still in progress.

Someone STOP ME.

#ao3 fanfic #stray kids fic #fanfiction #stray kids fanfic

[write143]

Another fantastic piece from Sunny !

Devoured this as soon as I saw the notification roll in. 💖

Watch Your Six

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Sensory Deprivation - Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: After training for years, you finally become a full fledged agent for KDOI, the Korean Department of Intelligence. Over time, each and every agent becomes something like a family member, including the high-tech nerd who has managed to put a smile on your face since day one. What happens when he's sent with you on his first field mission?

Warnings: Violence, smut (18+) MDNI

A/N: Kinktober is a state of mind. I know its January idc lol I will finish the list of prompts even if it kills me

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

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. 

The sound your sneakers make on the treadmill reverberates through the gym. The expensive, high tech plastic mask strapped to your face fogs up with each exhale and clears with each inhale. 

To your right, a man holds a clipboard, glasses covered eyes watching your vitals displayed on the monitor hooked up to the mask and other various wires clipped to your body. 

You’ve been running for about an hour straight, but your breathing is still even; and just by glancing down at the screen, your heart rate looks the same. 

For months, you’ve been training with the federal agency to be one of their field agents. Countless nights were spent pushing yourself to the limit, physically and mentally. 

Today was your final evaluation before becoming a full-fledged agent. You were selected out of the hundreds of trainees to test to move on. 

It was a great honor, all your hard work was finally paying off. 

Maybe you’ll get your first mission after this! 

If you pass. 

A small bead of sweat drops down the side of your face. 

Bored, your eyes wander over to the man studying your every heartbeat. 

The thick rimmed glasses that sat on his face have slid down his nose a bit. His lips seem to sit in a constant pout thanks to those pudgy cheeks of his. 

Choppy, fluffy brown hair sits on his head like a mop. You can tell he’s run his fingers through it more than a handful of times to get it out of his eyes. 

A crisp white lab coat rests over a hoodie and khaki pants. A few different pens and instruments sit in the pocket under an embroidered ‘J’ .

You’ve seen him around the trainees once or twice in the years you’ve been here. From what you’ve gathered, he was one of the technical experts, providing countless gadgets and gizmos for the field agents to use. 

The guy that would give the secret agent a lipstick taser before embarking on their world class espionage mission. 

He’s pretty and smart— what a lethal combination. 

When the man looks back up at the treadmill, your eyes flick back to dead ahead of you. 

Reaching forward, he hits the stop button on the treadmill and jots down a few notes on his clipboard, a tiny smile pulls at his handsome face. 

The treadmill comes to a gradual stop and so do your legs. One hour exactly sits on the clock. 

Nervously, you look down at the screens, to his monitor, looking at anything you can. 

“You did extremely well, 586.” There’s a happy tilt to his tone while he scribbles down some more notes, flipping the page, then writing some more. “You can take the mask off now.”

Nodding, you gently take the mask off your face and drape it over the top of the treadmill. 

“I have one more examination for you.” He clicks a few buttons on the computer to the side.

Patiently, you stand there waiting for instruction. 

He looks up at you with amusement glinting in his big, brown eyes. “You don’t need to be so stiff with me, 586, that’s not part of the tests.”

Your shoulders relax and sag forward a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Understandable.” He grabs a hold of the cart with the machines on it and rolls it to the side. “Most, if not all, trainees are during their examination. I can’t remember a trainee that wasn’t nervous— well, maybe M, but he’s a special case.”

“Are you J?” you ask, looking down at his lab coat. 

“I am,” he answers and steps closer to the treadmill.

He reaches forward and unsnaps the wires hooked onto the leads on your chest. The sticker part stays on, but the wires are removed. Which means you’ll probably be hooked up to another machine soon. 

“I’ve seen you around before,” you say to him, studying his face up close. 

“I’m always around everywhere,” he jokes, unhooking more wires. “I don’t think there’s a square inch of this agency I haven’t seen.”

“Are you a field agent?”

He scoffs. “No, not me. I could never handle that.”

“But you’re an agent.”

He moves his head side to side. “Of sorts, yeah. B needed a tech guy, so technically I’m an agent. But if you were to send me on a mission, I might cry. I leave those sorts of things up to C or S, or any one of the other agents. Just not me.”

You nod with a small smile of your own. 

“Follow me.”

Following his orders, you step off the treadmill and follow after him out of the gym. 

“Is there only one of each letter?” you ask.

J laughs. “Actually, yeah.” He leads you towards a side room, it looks like an interrogation room with a large contraption on the center of the table. “It’s easier that way.”

He motions for you to take a seat across the table. 

“And unless you fail this psych evaluation, I believe we’re going to be back to 26 again.” J starts fiddling with the machine, pulling wires and leads off the top. 

A happy pang goes through your heart. Thank god he hasn’t hooked up the heart monitor yet, he would’ve seen it skyrocket. 

“You think?” Nervously, you shift around in the chair. 

J chuckles. “I do. I haven’t seen a perfect exam like this in a while. Plus, we saw all the extra training you were putting in.”

Your mouth opens a bit in shock. J looks over at you, holding the wires ready to snap to the leads on your chest. 

“We have eyes everywhere, 586. Did you really think we didn’t see that?”

An embarrassed flush crawls on your neck and turns your ears red. “Of course, I know that.” 

Again, he chuckles and snaps all the wires to the leads. His fingers are warm in contrast with the cold air of the exam room. Each time his knuckles brush against your skin the feeling lingers. 

He places a strap around your head that has two metal leads pressing into your forehead. Even more wires from that strap lead down to the detector. 

J looks down at the wires and then turns on the machine. It whirrs to life and a needle starts scribbling out your heart rate on the top. 

It’s a lie detector. Of sorts. It looks like more than that. 

You’re not going to pretend to understand anything, though. That’s his job. 

His eyes watch the needle, he then reaches forward and clips a small cuff on your finger— a steady beeping follows it. 

“There we go,” he mutters to himself and takes a seat across from you. 

J shuffles papers around on the clipboard to rearrange them. 

A large mirror sat on the wall behind him. There’s no way that’s not one way glass. Is there anyone on the other side watching your evaluation? Or is it just the two of you? Is there another higherup keeping track of your answers? Maybe it’s B? Or maybe other agents are spectating to see how you are. 

You would be working closely with them, after all. If the roles were reversed, you’re sure you would watch. 

“Ready?” J’s voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Your eyes snap to him and you nod. 

“Is your name Y/N L/N?” he asks, looking down at the clipboard. 

It’s been so long since you’ve heard your real name. Two years? Yeah, two years. You’ve only been referred to as 586 since you joined. 

“Yes.” 

J looks at the contraption for a few seconds, taking note of the way it moves. He makes a small tick on the paper. 

“Can you verify your date of birth for me?”

You do as he says, saying it like second nature. Again, he repeats the same motion of watching your heart rate and making a small tick. 

The questions start out simple. Where were you born? What are your parent’s names? Do you have any siblings? All questions that you would make a security question for your bank. 

“Now, let’s get to the real questions. Just answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about, okay, 586?” J’s voice is calm and smooth. 

Something about this guy makes you want to tell him everything regardless of if you’re hooked up to several machines. 

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

KDOI: The Korean Division of Intelligence. Your dream job since you were a young girl. 

“No.”

After your answer, J watches your heart rate for even longer than before. He makes a tick on the clipboard. 

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency after enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Another tick. 

“Have you ever participated in an organized event that openly opposed KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Have you ever had malicious thoughts about KDOI or the agents working within it?”

“No, quite the opposite. I admire KDOI.” You add the last part with a sheepish smile. 

J grins when he makes the next tick on the paper. 

“Next section…” he murmurs. “Have you recently had thoughts of suicide?”

“No.”

Tick. 

Question after question comes from his mouth. You answer honestly to each of them, not even hesitating to let the reply leave your lips. 

“Did you have thoughts of suicide prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Do you ever have thoughts of harming others?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“N- what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him incredulously. There’s no way that’s on the evaluation. 

J feigns ignorance and points down to the clipboard. In exaggerated movements, he motions down to it and shrugs, puffing air in his cheeks and just making a meal out of this fake performance. 

“I can’t believe it either but there it is. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’” 

You tongue your cheek and smirk a bit. “No, J, I do not.”

J nods and scribbles down more than just a tick while looking at the heart monitor. “Interesting…” 

He makes a few last notes before his eyes widen and he looks up at you, pointing his pen in your direction. “No girlfriend either, right?”

You roll your eyes, “No, no girlfriend either.”

Isn’t this an official evaluation? For a government official secret organization that grants people a license to kill? 

He asked you if you were single immediately after asking if you’ve had thoughts of suicide. Is this guy for real?

You slow blink at him while he finishes up the form on his end. 

“Well!” he exclaims happily, hitting the clipboard on the metal table. You don’t even flinch. “I believe we’re all finished here.”

Your heart squeezes with nerves. 

J stands up from the table and rounds the table towards you. 

So badly you want to ask for the results of your exam. Are you in? Did you pass? Are you an agent?

“B needs to sign off on all the paperwork,” J trails off, his hands reaching forward to unhook all the wires from the leads stuck to your skin. “But… I don’t think there’s any issue with me welcoming you to the agency. Officially.”

Since the heart monitor was still hooked up, you can hear the needle suddenly spike and scribble large peaks on the paper. 

J turns his head to look at it. An amused smirk crosses his face and a chuckle huffs through his chest. “Funny,” he says to himself and then turns back to you. 

Sheepishly, you look away from him. 

“That’s what gets your heart rate to spike?” J sits on the corner of the table and folds his arms across his chest. 

You bite your cheek and avoid his eyes. “Well, this has been my dream job since I was a young girl; so, yes, you alluding to me becoming an official agent would raise my heart rate.”

J scoffs. His warm fingers suddenly grab your face, thumb on one cheek and his middle and pointer finger on the other. He turns your head to face him.

When your gaze snaps to his face, you see that there’s a cocky smirk on his face but his eyes are focused down on the heart monitor. The needle stays steady much to his obvious distaste. 

He sucks teeth in disbelief. “Really?”

“Is this another test?” your voice comes out muffled due to him holding your cheeks. 

J rolls his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, let’s go with that.” He releases your face and slides the strap off your head.

The leads on your chest are soon to come off after that. J is careful not to rip the sticky pads off your skin too fast so that it doesn’t sting. He rubs the site with a bit of rubbing alcohol afterwards to get rid of the residue. 

“How long have you been at the agency?” you ask. You’re curious about him. 

He defeats all the ‘Secret Agent’ stereotypes. He’s personable and warm— and a bit flirtatious. He’s not at all the cold, all-business type you were used to. That’s how more than half the trainees were. 

It’s not that you were cold, no. You just kept to yourself and worked hard. 

And you made sure your personality didn’t fade during that time either. 

J’s nose crinkles up while he thinks. His hands slow down in the process. “Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe four years now? Yeah, sounds about right.”

Your eyes widen. “Four years? How old are you?”

He smirks. “Don’t you know never to ask a young man his age.”

“I guess if you’re not going to tell me…” you trail off. “I’ll just say twenty eight then.”

“Twenty ei—!” he stammers and takes the last lead off your chest. “I’m twenty two!”

“Wasn’t so hard was it?”

J grumbles and turns around to finish putting the machine away. But there’s an amused tilt to the corner of his puffy lips and a playful glint in his eye. 

“So you started when you were eighteen?”

“Yep.”

“Child prodigy?”

“Taken right from high school.”

“Impressive.”

J laughs under his breath. “Everyone seems to think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Everyone here is a prodigy of some sort. It’s easy to blend in and somehow appear mediocre when surrounded by Korea’s most elite minds and bodies.”

“I don’t think you’re mediocre.”

“You haven’t met everyone else yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer again. J grabs your clipboard and takes the papers off it, handing them to you. 

“Bring these to B, he has to sign off on the final enlistment.” You take the stack from him. “The guard outside the door will bring you up to his office.”

You look down at the papers, your heart rate picking up faster and faster the more you think about it.

J puts his hand on your lower back and ushers you towards the door. It tingles at the base of your spine. He reaches in front of you and opens the door, motioning for you to exit first. The hand on your lower back twitches and it feels like he almost scratches it twice before urging you forward and dropping it. 

It’s weirdly comforting. 

It doesn’t feel weird at all. 

You turn back to look at him, “Thank you, J.”

He smiles. Those round cheeks get even bigger when it happens. 

“Welcome to KDOI, X .”

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

Two years goes by in the blink of an eye when working with a government agency. Especially when a majority of your assignments can take anywhere from a week to two months at a time. 

The agents you work with are the only constant in your life. Other faces flitter in and out of your life like leaves falling off trees. You don’t grow attached to anyone outside of this organization, you can’t afford to. 

You’re not complaining, not at all. You love the life you have now. It’s everything you ever wanted. 

Everyone at KDOI is a family, you’re all each other has. It’s an unspoken, special bond. 

When you first started, you were welcomed in with open arms. Obviously, some agents were warmer than others at first— or maybe it’s just that some were better at first impressions than others. 

Maybe other people would have been upset with M’s standoffishness when you first introduced yourself. But, after a hot coffee appeared on your desk not even five minutes after complaining about being cold to him and only him, you knew he wasn’t detached and icy at all. 

Other agents, like F, have been nothing but a ball of sunshine. He was the one you ate lunch with every single day while you were at the agency. Whilst sitting by yourself in the cafeteria on day one, he took it upon himself to plop himself in the seat right across from you. 

H is your favorite agent to go on long assignments with. He never fails to be a constant source of entertainment and intelligent conversation— with the occasional stupid ass comment that makes you question where the man you were just talking to went. 

Slowly but surely, you’ve also started learning their real names. Learning someone’s real name was apparently the equivalent of leaving you in their will around here. 

There was a time and place to refer to them as their real name. It was a line you tiptoed constantly. 

Surprisingly, it was M who told you his name first: Minho. It was completely unprompted too. It was in the jet returning from a three week mission where you had saved him from at least five different gunshot wounds by tackling him to the ground. 

The others trickled in afterwards. 

Y, or Jeongin, was shocked when you didn’t know his name. And immediately told you afterwards with a cute, wide smile on his face. 

Even though every single agent has become a part of you, one particular agent seems to have captured a larger part of your soul than the others. 

“J,” you say casually, slipping behind him to stand on the other side of his cluttered workbench. 

Jisung. He had told you his name when you had lingered in his workshop late one night, not wanting to go back to your dorm quite yet. 

“Hello, X,” he grins without looking up at you. The glasses on his nose have fallen forward.

His laptop is his primary focus, several wires are running from the computer to a tiny little gadget that looks no bigger than a cell phone. It has a small LED screen with different colored pixels bouncing around it. 

Jisung’s workshop was one of your favorite places in the agency. There was always music playing, a computer always had some sort of TV on silent with the subtitles on, and there were always snacks everywhere. 

You consider it a second dorm, really. As soon as you’re done training for the day, you usually find yourself here.

“When did you get back?” he asks, clicking a few keys and looking over at the gadget, then back to his computer. 

“Maybe two hours ago?”

“And it took you this long to come say hi?”

“I had to shower.”

“ And you didn’t invite me?” his cheeky smile gets bigger. 

You smack the back of his head, the glasses fall even more. You’re surprised they don’t tumble off his face.

If one thing has remained constant since your exam day, it’s the relentless flirting. The guy can’t go more than five minutes without saying some sort of teasing comment. 

It should bother you. 

But it doesn’t. 

At this point, you’ve gotten quite used to it. If he ever stopped, then you might be a bit concerned. You might even miss it. 

But you would never tell him that. 

Jisung makes a tiny ‘gah’ noise and rubs the back of his head in fake pain. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks over at you. 

“I missed you so much and the first thing you do is hurt me,” he whines. 

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Two long months without my girlfriend.”

“ Not your girlfriend.”

He clutched his chest through his baggy black hoodie. “Another wound.”

You cross your arms and giggle a bit. “Well get used to me not being here. B is sending me on another assignment tomorrow.”

Jisung frowns. “I know, he asked me to be at your debrief tomorrow morning.” He lets out a whine. “You just got back! Usually you’re around for at least two weeks in between missions.”

Shrugging, you look around the room. The digital clock on the wall read 10:29 PM. He’s usually the only one in here past 5:30, he tends to lose track of time easily when working on projects. 

“It’s part of the job,” you say casually. 

Jisung grumbles again, looking down at his laptop once more. “Yeah, well it sucks. Everyone’s always coming and going. Meanwhile I’m stuck here all day every day.”

“I thought you didn’t do field work.”

“I don’t . I just also hate that I’m trapped here while everyone gets to travel with one another.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do know we’re not sightseeing, right?”

Jisung balks. “Of course I know that.” He pauses. “But I did see that picture that you and Changbin took at Buckingham Palace.”

You bite your lip to stop the smile. “Not my fault it just so happened to be by our hotel.”

“Bang said if we had a Christmas card he would use that picture.”

The smile you’re fighting gets even bigger. You hesitate before speaking up again. “It’s a good picture.”

Jisung’s head drops and he places both of his hands on the table. “See what I mean?” he groans. 

“Just tell Bang that you want field work.”

Jisung’s head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. “I would die in the field!”

“You would not. One of us would be there to save your hide. You really think Minho would let you die?”

“I think he would load the gun himself.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest. Uncrossing your arms, you turn around and lean against the table. 

“Ji, we would make sure you were safe if you were to come out in the field with us. It’s our job.”

“Your job is to carry out the mission.”

“I wouldn’t give a damn about the mission if your life was on the line.”

Jisung’s mouth snaps shut. His eyebrows fly up his forehead. 

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his knuckles turn white from gripping the counter so hard. 

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. 

You shouldn’t have said something like that, shouldn’t you? Your job is to carry out government missions. Personal feelings should never be put first, you know that. 

So why did you say that?

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that. 

The shock on Jisung’s face quickly morphs into a cocky smirk. It’s a mask. You can see in his eyes he’s still a bit shocked. 

“I knew you were in love with me.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes and push off the table. “I’m going back to my dorm to sleep. Goodnight, J.”

Your hand slides to his lower back and you scratch twice over his lab coat and hoodie. 

Ever since your exam day, the two of you do this small gesture to each other all the time. It could be when he passes behind you in the cafe line or comes up behind you in the training room. It’s such a tiny, personal gesture. 

Sometimes on the coldest nights in the field, you’ll find yourself aching for that small touch.

“You’re so head over heels in love with me, X!” he calls after you, again, clutching at his heart and overacting like he’s swooning. 

“I’m leaving!”

“You just got here!” he whines. 

“Bye.”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away, X!”

“Night!” you repeat, letting the door shut after you. 

You walk down the hallway of the agency with a goofy smile on your face. 

“Idiot,” you mumble to yourself. 

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

B’s office was at the very top of the large building, the windows overlooked the entirety of Seoul. Everything inside the office exuded money and power. The wood of the bookshelves was black and sleek and always dust free. 

Inside the office was so large there was an entire sitting area with two sofas and two loveseats around a coffee table. 

There was always a bergamot candle burning on a side table there. 

It was just about 10 AM when you stepped inside. 

“Ah, X, thank you so much for coming in.” B stands up from his large desk chair to welcome you in. 

Bang Chan, the leader of KDOI, and the most unassuming man you’ve ever met. When you brought him your final exam paperwork that fateful day you thought you were in the wrong office. 

This whole time you were expecting a wrinkly old man, not a twenty-something with dimples. 

But, at this point, you’ve learned to not be surprised by anything anymore. 

Maybe you were surprised at the fact that the other man in the room made no move to even look at you. 

Jisung sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his face sheet white. Both of his hands are gripped in tight fists on top of his pants. 

Your warm smile fades from your face as you take in his ghastly expression. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

Chan’s lips form a tight line as he motions to the chair for you to sit in. “I was going over your next assignment with J before you got here.”

“Apologies, am I late?”

“No, not at all. I had J come in a little early to talk to him one on one.”

You glance over at Jisung who looks like he hasn’t even blinked. Alarm bells are going off inside your head. Not even a nod in your direction?

“What’s this assignment about, B?” You look back to your boss. 

He slides a manilla envelope across the desk to you, you take it without a second thought. Chan picks up a tiny remote off his desk and presses a button. Shades slowly come down over the window, bathing the room in darkness. Another beep on the remote and a holographic screen projects from the floor next to the desk. 

Both you and Chan turn your chairs to go over the debrief, Jisung stays still. Part of you wants to snap your fingers in front of his face to see if he’s still alive or not. 

Instead, you focus on your job. 

“I know you’re used to more recoup time, but I’m afraid this assignment is pretty urgent.” Chan clicks the remote. A grainy CCTV picture is displayed on the screen. “The international gang you’ve been dealing with lately, the Ice Crows, have shown their face again.”

Chan zooms in on the image. Several higher ups of the gang are getting out of a black SUV. They’re all dressed in fancy suits smoking cigars. 

The last time you dealt with them was about five months ago when their trail had gone cold over in Canada. 

“When and where was this taken?” you ask. 

“Yesterday. Paris. Where you and J will be headed after this.”

Your head snaps over to look at Chan. 

With Jisung? No wonder the guy looked like he was eight inches from death!

Your eyes slide to the engineer, he’s still staring forward. A cold sweat on his brow. 

“J is coming with me?”

Chan points your attention back to the debrief. “Allow me to continue.”

You spare one last look Jisung. The poor guy is shaking in his boots. Your hands itch to reach out and comfort him, but you have to remain professional. 

That’s for after the debrief. 

“There’s an auction being held at the Palais des Congrès. Several large and important pieces are being shown there. Including…” Bang switches the slides and displays an expensive painting. “The Refuge, which was stolen no more than two months ago by the Ice Crows. They’re putting it up for auction when it belongs back in Korea.”

Your eyes narrow. “This seems like a pretty rookie cut and dry assignment, B. You need me to get the painting back. I don’t understand why J has to come with me, he doesn’t do field work.”

The conversation the two of you had the previous night echoes in your mind. 

B nods. “I know. Let me get there, X.” He switches the slide to display the floor plan of the museum. “This convention center is rather high tech, as you can see. It’s equipped with blockers that don’t allow any outside waves to make it past their walls. Any and all technical communication has to come within the building.”

“So, you’re sending J with me because he’s the only one that can operate field equipment? S can operate simple transmitters and trackers.”

“It’s more than that, X. The painting will be behind several different firewalls and security systems that not even S can hack through. J needs to be with you and he needs to be in that building.”

You take a deep breath and look over at Jisung. His hundred yard stare has moved from the window and is now focused down on his lap. 

“He’ll be in your hotel room the entire time. You’ll be doing the recon and walking through the convention center to get where you need to be.”

Jisung pulls his lips between his teeth. His body finally came back to life. “I won’t need to leave the room?” His voice is hoarse. 

“No,” Chan answers quickly. “Not until you’re leaving to come back home.”

Jisung shifts on his chair, unfurling his fists and swallowing thickly. 

“I understand your apprehension, J, I do. But I need you on this.”

Jisung watches him closely and then offers a weak nod. He glanced over at you. 

“I wouldn’t put you with X unless I was sure that she would watch your six.”

You nod and steel your expression. “I won’t let anything happen to you, J.”

Color returns to J’s cheeks at your words. He gulps and takes a deep breath, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He’s more confident the second time. 

“Good.” Chan clasps his hands together. “Stay safe, agents. Amusez vouis bien!”

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

You and Jisung were the only ones inside the cabin of the agency’s private jet. It took off the runway only about four minutes ago. 

The brunette sat across from you, his eyes focused out the window at the clouds below. His posture is anything but relaxed. He’s sitting ramrod straight in the large cushioned chair. 

You don’t think his muscles have released since you both were in Chan’s office. Even through the thick layers of his comfortable traveling clothes you can clearly read his uneasy body language. 

“You okay?” you ask gently.

“No,” he mutters back. Duh.

You bite the inside of your cheek, completely unsure of what to do or say. This was never a part of your training. Maybe you should’ve picked up a copy of ‘ Comforting Friends for Dummies ’ when you had the chance. 

Killing targets? Easy! 

Provide detailed surveillance on a suspicious person? Done! 

Soothe an anxious friend? Not so simple. 

Jisung’s cheeks seem even puffier than usual, lips pursed in a pout. There’s no sparkle to his eyes like you’re used to. 

Taking a deep breath, you lean back in your seat and look around the plane. You crack your knuckles, displaying your own nerves. 

“Do you know the best part of staying at hotels during missions?” you ask him to break the silence.

Jisung hums in acknowledgement, he continues to watch the clouds below. 

“You get to order all the room service you want— it comes out of the agency’s card.” You smirk. 

He shifts around in his seat. His hands that were tightly gripping the armrests relax a bit. 

“Last assignment I was on with Hyunjin, we were in a seaport town, the hotel made these bacon wrapped scallops… man… I ate so many I thought I was going to explode.” You pat your stomach. 

Jisung finally looks at you. “Bacon wrapped scallops?”

You nod and smile at him. “You’ll be in the room the entire time. Think of all the room service you’ll get to order.”

“I’ve never had bacon wrapped scallops.”

“It’s Paris, who knows what they’ll offer there. And it all goes on Bang’s card.”

Jisung finally smiles. It wavers for a second, like he’s sheepish to do it. It’s paired with a breathy chuckle. He looks down at his lap and lets his body fall forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees. 

His knee bounces anxiously and the exhales he lets out are shaky. 

“God, Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I can’t help but freak out.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s my first time out in the field.” 

“I know.”

“What if something happens?”

You roll your eyes. “I would be more surprised if something didn’t happen, Jisung.”

His head shoots up. The color drains from his face. His pouty lips part a few times like he’s trying to find the right words to say. 

“But I’m prepared for it, Jisung.” You lean forward, mirroring his posture and take his hands between yours. “I’m prepared to take care of whatever pops up to keep you safe, okay?”

His jaw clenches and he stares deeply into his eyes. The hands in yours are so warm in stark contrast to your always-cold ones. 

“And if anything terrible happens then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it. Trust in me, okay? I have to take care of KDOI’s resident nerd, after all.”

“Resident nerd…” he scoffs.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Did I ever tell you what happened on my first mission with Minho?”

Jisung shakes his head. 

“It was supposed to be easy! The intel that KDOI had gotten was that there was going to be a large drug exchange somewhere in the States, Minho was sent with me. And my lord, our intel was off.”

Thinking about the memory makes you giggle to this day. 

“It was an international, high profile cartel that Bang has been trying to nail down for years. Well, during a small scout, I got my ass captured. I wasn’t watching my six like I should’ve.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. Obviously, he wasn’t told about this. It’s not like you enjoy flaunting the story around. 

“I had a gun to the back of my head, the leader of the cartel was screaming for Minho to come out from where he was hiding or he’d kill me. God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. My first assignment and I already had a gun to my skull.

“Minho, being the amazing agent he is, found the right vantage point and took the guy out. I was able to evade the crossfire after that, but honestly those bullets weren’t what scared me, it was the idea that Minho was disappointed in me.”

He was the agent you looked up to the most after all. He was the one that all these great stories and tales were all about. Minho was the harrowing hero of KDOI who was able to ace every mission handed to him. 

“But he didn’t even say anything about it. Even when I apologized over and over again, he just shrugged and said it was part of the job. And I get it now. It is just part of the job. So don’t worry, okay?”

Jisung swallows once, chin dipping down with a stiff nod. He turns his hands around in yours to grasp your fingers. 

A playful smirk creeps up on his face. “I can’t believe it…”

Your head cocks to the side and you watch him closely. He’s studying your manicured nails, his thumbs swipe over the digits softly. It’s a tender movement. 

“What?” you ask. 

“I can’t believe how in love with me you are.”

You rip your hands out of his and swat forward just as fast. 

With a barking laugh, he moves out of the way of your slap. You swing again and again, each time his laughter gets louder and louder. 

“First last night, now this? Are you going to propose to me next?”

You know this is just his way of evading thinking about how scared he is, but if that’s what it takes to make him feel better, you’ll allow it. If a distraction is what he needs, then you’ll give it to him. 

“Love hurts!” he cries out when you land a solid smack on his arm. “They were right!”

“It’s going to kill you, that’s what it’s going to do.”

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

By the time you and Jisung get to the convention center and check into the hotel it’s nearing seven at night. The gala isn’t being held until tomorrow, so you both have some time to relax and settle in. 

It leaves Jisung plenty of time to set up everything he needs inside your hotel room.

You both checked in without a hitch, getting your keys and practically falling into the room. Jet Lag is pulling your eyelids shut and weighing down on your chest like an elephant.

Flicking the lights on, you blink your bleary eyes a few times, staring down at the large bed sitting in the middle of your hotel room. 

One king sized bed.

You’d love to say this hasn’t happened before but you never know what to expect on missions. There have been places where there’s been one bed, two beds, bunk beds , and even separate bedrooms once or twice. 

On one occasion Hyunjin slept on the floor since you were only given one twin sized bed and you were not about to share that tiny space with the man who likes to spread out all of his limbs and hog the blanket at the same time.

So, at this point, you don’t even care if there’s only one bed.

You shrug it off and plop your bag next to the dresser and let your body fall back onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’

Jisung, on the other hand, hovers around the doorway, both hands still gripping the two rolling suitcases full of his equipment. “I can sleep on the pull out couch,” he says thickly.

“Ji, it’s fine, we can share a bed, we’re both adults here,” you tease him. “As long as you don’t put your cold feet on me, I don’t care.”

“I don’t have cold feet,” he grumbles and wheels his suitcases towards the small table on the other side of the room. 

You let your eyes slide shut on the bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioner already lulling your brain to sleep. With how exhausted you are, it wouldn’t take much for you to give into the pull anyway. 

Jisung opens up the suitcases and starts unloading every piece of technology that he has brought with him. Various wires and computer parts thud against the wood of the table. 

He stops for a second.

“And how would you know if I did have cold feet?”

A laugh is punched from your chest at the abrupt question. It’s a deep belly laugh. “Let’s just say there is a loose lipped agent among us.”

Jisung pauses. “Minho said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“He wasn’t going to until I started teasing him about his purchase of fuzzy socks.”

“You were with him when he bought those?”

“I helped him choose between two different pairs.” You crack one eye open to look at him. “The purple pair was my idea.”

Jisung groans and slides his laptop open, the typing on his keys is a lot more aggressive. You giggle again at his outward display of frustration.  

You let your eyes close again, listening to him shuffle his things around the wooden table muttering in between movements about how his feet aren’t that cold, they’re just colder than the rest of his body. 

An easy smile finds its way on your face and you listen to his quiet ramblings until sleep finally washes over your tired mind. 

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

“You were right,” Jisungs voice says in your earpiece. “Room service is fucking awesome.”

A waiter with a tray full of champagne flutes passes by, you grab one as he strides by your side. 

“I told you,” you say quietly while bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip. “What did you order?”

“I think the better question is what didn’t I order.” His mouth sounds full when he answers you. 

He’s up on the 14th floor of the convention hall while you’re downstairs at the gala in a sleek, red silk dress. Your hair and makeup done exquisitely well, beautiful silver heels match the diamond jewelry adorning your skin. 

You blend right in to everyone around you. 

“I heard that their oysters are fantastic.”

“I think that’s part of what I ordered.” You can hear several dishes being pushed around. “Yep, right here. Although, they don’t look as appetizing as I thought.”

“They’re not really a lounge snack.”

“For rich people they are.”

The mission started about an hour ago when you made your way into the main event hall. The auction for the painting is going to begin in about another hour. 

Your first task of the night is to locate the painting before the auction and place a minuscule tracking device on it to locate later once it’s sold. 

There was only one way you knew to get close enough to The Refuge. 

“Oh. Three tables back to your 8 is your first target of the night, X.”

Paternino ‘Pink Panther’ Cardi. One of the Ice Crows inner circle members. He can’t resist swiping whatever paintings he can get his grimy fingers on; but, he also can’t resist bragging to an attractive woman. 

You turn nonchalantly to find him already eyeing you up with dark eyes. 

He’s your typical mafia member. In fact, if you had to draw a cartoon of a mobster, it would look like Paternino. 

You hold his searing eye contact while taking another sip from your champagne. The mobster lowers his chin and lets his tongue dart out to lick his lips. 

At first, seduction wasn’t a part of the job you particularly excelled at. But after doing it for so long, it comes naturally. 

Batting your lashes, you smirk at him and then turn to walk towards his table, your hips swaying in the process. Maybe you exaggerate your movements a bit, but it has the exact effect you need on Paternino. 

He’s sitting at a large round booth all by himself, legs spread wide in a show-of-power manner. A large swig of whiskey is taken out of his glass before you get to him. 

“Don’t you know that a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves a better drink than the venue provided champagne?” He motions to the booth seat next to him. 

You place your glass on the table and slide gracefully next to him. The effort you put into this is going to need to be quick, you don’t have long to locate the painting. 

“And I suppose a handsome man like yourself knows just what to order a woman like me?” Your voice is coy and seductively low. 

In your ear, you hear Jisung take a tiny, shaky breath. Does he know the intercom is still activated on his end?

Paternino slides towards you a bit more so now you can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him. It’s almost too overpowering. 

“A woman like you, hm?” He rests his arm on the booth behind your shoulders, lifting one hand to signal a waiter to come by. “Look into my eyes, let me see if I can guess your drink of choice.”

You rest your chin on top of your folded hands, your elbows resting on the table. His eye contact is intense and vivid, it makes your skin crawl. 

Paternino hums again. “A sapphire martini.”

“Nope,” Jisung says with a chuckle. 

You give a tiny, fake gasp. “How did you know?”

“I know a woman with taste when I see her.” He takes another swig of his whiskey while staring at you. “A sapphire martini for the lady.”

There must have been a waiter next to the table. You fight the urge to turn and look, instead opting to look at Paternino through your lashes. 

“Your turn, Beautiful. Why don’t you make an assumption about me?”

“I assume you’re an asshole with a tiny dick.”

Humming, you scoot even closer to Paternino, your fingers come up and walk up his chest to come around his tie. 

“I think,” you whisper lowly, coming closer to his own face, forcing your eyes to look down at his lips for a split second then back up at his eyes. “That you’re a powerful man around here, and that you don’t take no for an answer.”

His lips curl up in a cocky smirk. The arm that was previously on the booth, comes around your shoulders. His fingers feel clammy on your exposed skin. 

“Very observant, my lady. Anything else?”

The sound of a glass being delicately placed reaches your ears. You reach out and grab the martini glass without looking, bringing it closer to you.

“No, no, it’s your turn.”

He smiles. You’re so close to his face you can hear his exhales, smell the whiskey on his breath. 

You sip your own martini. God, it’s awful. You hate martinis. 

Paternino slides a finger underneath the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I think you would look gorgeous without this in the way.” He tugs on the strap. 

“Zero out of ten. Horrible pick up line. Try again.”

Jisung’s snarky words in your ear are oddly calming to your racing heart. He keeps bringing you down to Earth.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your clothes.” You tug his tie. “The auction doesn’t start for some time. How about you show me somewhere private we can go and we can see if both of us are right.”

“Uuuuggghhhhhhh…”  

“I like that idea, I know just the place, Beautiful.” Paternino slides out of the booth and holds out his hand, which you grab a hold of gingerly to stand up and be led away from the main gala floor. 

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

It takes five minutes for Paternino to lead you to the room where The Refuge is being stored. It only takes you ten seconds to knock him out cold with one solid hit to the back of the head. 

His body hits the ground like a sack of potatoes in the dark storage room. 

“Fucking finally,” Jisung groans in your ear. 

“Sorry, it was the only way I knew to get back here.”

“That was torture, X. I’m never doing this again.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Paternino’s ragdolling body under the arms, dragging him across the room and stuffing him inside a storage closet with his arms and legs tied together and duct tape over his mouth. 

“Now, which one is The Refuge?” you mutter looking around at all the art around the room. There’s sculptures, painting, glass blown pieces, everything you would see in a museum. 

“I wonder if The Refuge is the only stolen thing in here?” 

Sighing, you walk around the room, trying to recognize anything. “Probably not. But it’s the only one we know about.”

You find the painting eventually sitting at the very back of the room covered by a large sheet. When you walk up to it, you take your earring out of your ear and slide the back off— which is where you were keeping the tracker. 

You tuck the tracker in the back of the painting between the canvas in the wood. It wouldn’t slip out nor would anyone notice. 

“Perfect.”

“I can see it on the map still, you’re all good. Now get out of there.”

“Anyone coming on the cams?”

“No, you’re clear.”

You take your other earring out and throw it in the garbage can by the door. They were fake anyway and you don’t feel like looking like a freak with one in. 

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

When you returned to the event hall, people were taking their seats for the auction, so you followed suit. Grabbing another drink from the bar before you sat down. 

“Vodka tonic?”

“Always,” you say under your breath. 

You watch the bartender make your drink with close eyes. 

Now you just needed to wait until the auction was over to get the painting back. Your job was half over. 

Through the earpiece, you can hear knocks on Jisung’s hotel room door. 

“More room service?”

“I… I didn’t order anything.”

Alarm bells go off in your mind. “Don’t answer it.”

Jisung stays silent for a few moments. You’re no longer watching the bartender, you’re focusing intently on what you can hear in your ear. 

“J.” You state, trying to get an update from him. 

“I think they’re gone.”

Before you can even think about being relaxed there’s a loud bang on the other side of the intercom and Jisung shrieks from surprise. 

“X! X, they’re in the room! X!” His voice shouts into your ear. 

You’re already running out of the event hall, your dress hiked up in your hands.

“J, there’s a gun strapped to the bottom of the table, use it!”

You can hear gruff voices screaming at Jisung not to move, that they’d kill him if he even twitched a muscle. 

“X, there’s five of them.” He whispers quietly. 

“J, listen to me, stay calm, I’ll be there in five minutes.” You burst through the stairwell and start climbing two at a time, even in your heels. The elevator would’ve taken too long. “Do what you need to stay alive, fuck the assignment. Stay alive.”

“X.” It’s a whimper and it stabs you through the heart. The yelling gets louder and louder. 

Jisung begs for mercy. You can hear the desperation in his voice, it pushes your legs to move faster and faster up the stairs. 

“Si—“

The earpiece goes dead after a gunshot. 

Your knees wobble and you lose your momentum. 

Oh my god, no, fuck, please. 

Reaching out, you grab the railing to keep your balance on one of the landings. 

“J?” you scream. “J, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not a single voice comes through. Not even static.

Maybe they just shot the equipment. That has to be it. They didn’t shoot him. They wouldn’t. Right?

You steel your nerves and launch yourself up the remaining steps. By the time you reach the 14th floor, you’re not even winded. 

The long hallway is colder than the stairwell. You take off sprinting towards your room, sharply rounding the few corners that you come across. Right before your own stretch of hallway, you slow down to a walk. It kills you but you have to do it. 

In the distance, right in front of your room, you see two large men in black suits standing guard. They take notice of you immediately. 

“What are you doing up here, ma’am?” One asks as you walk closer. 

“My room is up here, honey.” 

He looks to his partner and then back at you. “Turn around and walk the other way.”

“Why?” you ask, only about ten feet away. 

“Just do it, sweet cheeks.”

Your eyebrow cocks and before he can react, you walk up and throw a sharp right hook into his jaw. The bone in his face cracks and he stumbles down onto the ground. 

His partner yells in surprise and starts fumbling for his gun. When his hand raises to shoot you, you grab his arm and aim his weapon down so when he discharges it, it shoots right into his partner. 

Then, you pull his arm so he falls forward into you. You swing the heel of your palm upwards right into his nose. With your free hand, you reach down and grab the tiny pistol that was strapped to your thigh. 

Before the second goon could recover, you shoot him right in the head. 

The sound of gunshots obviously alerted the remaining three gang members in the room. Two of them come barreling out into the hallway with their weapons drawn. 

Immediately, you shoot the first one in the head, he hits the ground before he even knows what hit him. The other gang member yelps in shock before you shoot him too. 

Within two minutes there are four bodies in the hallway.

Carefully, you walk into your hotel room, keeping your back against the wall and your gun cocked.

“Shut the fuck up,” a gruff voice says roughly. 

Jisung said there were five of them. The fifth must be the one holding him hostage.

Quietly, you inch closer and closer to the corner of the wall. Once you turn around, he’ll be right in front of you. 

You gulp and take one deep breath before coming around the corner, gun pointed forward. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” That same deep voice calls out. 

Your heart drops. 

Another typical looking crook is pointing his gun at the closed wardrobe doors in the corner of the room. 

Where is Jisung? Where is he? Is he in the wardrobe? He has to be inside the wardrobe. 

“Why don’t you drop the gun, sweetie.” The mobster says darkly. 

You stay still with the gun pointed at him despite his words. The trigger seems to burn your finger. It's aching to be pulled. 

Is Jisung in the wardrobe? Is he in there and you can’t see him?

Or is this guy trying to pull a fast one on you to get you to drop your weapon? 

Fuck, is Jisung in the wardrobe?

“I said drop the fucking gun.” He moves to pull the hammer back of his own pistol and you don’t hesitate even for a second. 

You pull your own trigger. 

He drops to the ground with a bullet wound directly in his head. 

You sprint across the room and rip open the wardrobe doors. 

Empty. 

It’s empty. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat under your breath frantically. You blink your eyes over and over again hoping that he would suddenly appear. 

You even go so far as to open and close the wardrobe door three more times, each time more frantic. 

“Fuck!”

Where the fuck is he if he’s not inside this room? 

The equipment on the table has a bullet hole through Jisung’s main laptop but no blood anywhere near it. But his glasses are. They’re lying on the floor with a crack through one of the lenses. 

Did they move him to another location? He doesn’t have a tracker on him like you do.

With a yell of anguish, you turn and kick the dead mobster at your feet. His limp body rolls over and his jacket pocket falls open. 

A hotel room key tucked inside the pocket catches your attention. You crouch down and pick it up.

‘1833’ is written on the back of the key.

It’s not a great lead, but your legs are running out of your hotel room before you even think twice. Obviously they moved him somewhere else to lead you into their trap and it didn’t work. Not with how well you were trained. 

You burst through the door leading to the 18th floor, heeled shoes sprinting down the hallway towards where room 1833 would be.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you click the hammer back of your gun and hold it out in front of you, swiping the key in the handle with your free hand.

The lock clicks open and you push the handle down slowly, trying to cause the least amount of noise as possible. All of the lights are off inside of the hotel room, save for one lamp. The yellow glow radiates on the wall.

There’s no noise.

Everything is completely silent save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning pumping through the room.

Until you hear a sniffle, a huff, and then another sniffle. 

Inching across the floor, you slide your back against the wall like you did previously, listening for any more key sounds that would alert you that there are more people inside the room.

Taking one last deep breath, you round the corner and point your gun forward.

Even in the dark you know exactly what you’re seeing. 

In the middle of the room stood Han Jisung; his hands tied together with a rope coming from the ceiling, a blindfold around his eyes and earplugs shoved into his ears. From here you can see the wetness from his tears being absorbed by the blindfold. There’s a gag tied around his mouth muffling tiny sobs.

You don’t allow yourself to fall victim to false security, you look around the room closely, making sure no one else is lying in wait for you to fall into yet another trap. 

No other soul is inside this hotel room with you.

Dropping the gun onto the bed, you cross the room towards Jisung as quickly as possible.

He must sense another presence in front of him, his entire body stiffens and another louder sob is swallowed by the gag. He backs up away from you as much as his restraints allowed– which was next to nothing.

“Jisung,” you say in relief. “Oh god.”

Without thinking twice about it, you reach around and brush your hand on his lower back, scratching twice. 

Jisung’s chest heaves with another sob, even through the gag in his mouth, you can hear him whimper your name. His entire body relaxes and he falls towards you, the ties on his hands tugging even more. 

You reach up and yank the gag out of his mouth. 

“X,” he rasps with a dry tongue. “Oh my god please say it’s you. I-I can’t hear anything— fuck, Jesus. Thank god you’re alive, oh god.”

You scratch his lower back again, looking at the restraints. How the fuck were you going to untie that knot? 

Jisung’s tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. His weight leans into you as much as he can. It must’ve been horrifying to be tied up like this, he couldn't hear or see or scream for help. 

Gingerly, you reach up and cup both of his cheeks so as not to startle him. Even with how gentle you were, he still jumps in shock. 

“Everything happened so fast,” he rambled. “They shot out the laptop so the communicator was fried. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head and I was being tied up.”

Using your fingers, you push the blindfold up his face to rest around his forehead. 

Jisung’s big, brown eyes blink and squint a bit before focusing on you. He searches all over your face, taking in every detail as if you’re a glass of water and he’s been crawling through the desert. 

His eyebrows pinch together and he gulps. 

“God, I’m always glad to see you, but now I’m really glad.”

You laugh under your breath, the stress from just the last thirty minutes alone lifting off your shoulders. 

He’s okay. 

Jisung is okay. 

Using your hands, you wipe the tear tracks off his puffy cheeks. God, he must’ve been horrified. 

He’s probably never going to go out into the field again. You look up at the restraints, analyzing the knot closely. You’re going to have to cut him down, there’s no way you’re untying that. He’s secured to a pipe that runs across the entirety of the ceiling. 

“You know,” Jisung starts. His voice already has that teasing tilt to it. “If you wanted me tied up this badly, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your eyebrows twitches. Mr. Humor-Is-My-Coping-Mechanism decides to show his face now of all times, huh? 

Slowly, you look down from his restrained wrists to his dark eyes. A smirk is already plastered on his face, his lips still wet from licking them.

“You must want me so bad, hm?”

With your own crooked smile, you tongue your cheek and make a ‘huh’ noise, it puffs through your chest. That’s how he wants to be, huh?

He can stay tied up for a little longer then. It’s not like anyone’s coming into this room nor do you have anything to do until after the auction. 

Really, you have nothing but time to kill!

You take a step backwards away from him and cross your arms over your chest.

His eyes widen when you distance yourself from him. “Wh…” His cheeks puff a bit as his lips purse in confusion. Jisung tugs on the rope still around his wrists. 

You cock your head to the side and stare at him with one lifted brow. 

The bed behind you dips down under your weight as you sit down on the edge. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch Jisung grow more and more confused as to why you’re not cutting him down yet. 

Slowly, his ears start turning red, the flush crawls across his face and down his neck, disappearing into his black hoodie. 

“X,” he says hoarsely. “Aren’t you going to cut me down?”

You shrug, knowing no matter what you say, he’s not going to hear you. If he wants to tease you, you can tease right back. 

The gun on the bed beside you is picked up in your hand. You nonchalantly click the safety on and toss it to the side again.

He tugs even harder, the ropes chafing his wrists a bit. You watch as JIsung’s Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. The blindfold is pushing his bangs up in wild directions.

The helpless look on his face shouldn’t be making your blood pump this way. Excitement shouldn’t be tingling at the base of your spine from the power trip you’re getting from this. This is only teasing between two best friends, nothing more. 

It’s just teasing, right?

Right?

You cross one leg over the other, leaning back on your hands. The plush blanket underneath your fingertips feels cool and soft. It’s a complete contrast to the way your skin is heating up under Jisung’s desperate gaze.

“Aren’t you going to…” he trails off. Several times his eyes flick from yours down to your exposed leg. When you had crossed them, due to the slit up your dress, the entirety of your leg was exposed to the cool hotel room air.

“Going to what?” you ask him, exaggerating the movements of your mouth for him to understand. 

Jisung gulps again while watching your lips. He squints his eyes closed and tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose, his chin tilts back a bit.

You allow your gaze to wander down his body a bit. He’s always in relaxed clothing, including now. An oversized black hoodie draped over his shoulders with gray sweatpants on his bottom half.

Gray sweatpants that you now notice seem a little… tight .

Oh.

It seems as though you’re not the only one whose thoughts seem to be a bit… derailed. 

When you look back up at Jisung, he’s staring at you with slightly glassy eyes and a heaving chest. Nervously, his tongue comes out to lick his drying lips again. 

A tight band of tension stretches between the two of you; you can practically feel it connecting your bodies together. The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Is he thinking the same thing you are? Is he allowing his mind to wander the way that yours is?

Slowly, you uncross your legs and stand up from the edge of the bed. 

Big brown eyes flick down to watch the movement absentmindedly, his lips part and a shaky exhale leaves them. 

Your hips sway from side to side with each slow step you take towards Jisung. 

The eye contact he makes with you is sharp; his thoughts being conveyed through them. He wants you, and he wants you bad. It’s like he’s practically begging for it with those brown puppy dog eyes. 

And you’ll be damned because you want it just as bad. 

There’s only so much of his teasing that you can take. Only so much desire the dam within your heart can take before it bursts. And right now, with how high your adrenaline has spiked, nothing is stopping you.

The last two years of nonstop flirting is taking its toll on your self control.

Licking your own lips, you look up at Jisung, a shaky breath coming out afterwards.

Your fingers come up and grab the blindfold that’s still around his forehead and tug it back down over his eyes.

“ Fuck, ” Jisung murmurs. Your face is so close to his you can physically feel the words splay out onto your own lips. 

With the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower, you brush your lips against his. Jisung immediately brings his face closer to yours, smashing your mouths together even more. 

A sensation you can’t quite describe washes over you. It has the same level of completeness that you had felt when you became a full-fledged agent; like you just did something that the universe has been waiting for you to do.

His pouty lips start moving against yours faster and faster with more urgency, like he can’t get enough of you, like he’s experiencing the same emotions that you are. Were you the piece he always needed too?

Both of your hands begin to explore. You cup his cheek with one while the other grabs at the front of his hoodie. He’s leaning into you so much that the ropes holding his wrists squeak as they tighten and rub.

With a teasing smirk against his mouth, you take a tiny step back. This way he wasn’t able to reach your lips but could still feel the heat from your body in front of him. 

A tiny whine leaves his throat as soon as you pull away. You watch as his lips chase after you just to be stopped by the ropes.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pleading. You lightly tap his cheek twice.

Pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, you let your mouth hover over his neck. 

Since he doesn’t have sight or hearing, all of his other senses are on high alert. Jisung feels your warm exhales so close to his skin and squirms around, little noises leaving the back of his throat. 

You tease him more and more by letting your deep breaths fan over his flushed skin but never actually letting your lips actually meet with his neck.

Jisung pulls and pulls on the restraints, each exhale driving him insane. 

When your lips finally meet his neck, a long mewl exits his own wet mouth. His head tilts to the side to give you more access. Greedily, you let your mouth explore his soft skin. 

His hips buck forward into yours, his hard length grinding into your hip to bring himself some relief. Jisung whines again at the sensation.

At the same time, you open your mouth and suck down where his shoulder meets his neck. His body tenses up and his head tilts back in pleasure.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grinding into your hip once again. “Oh, god. Shit– please, fuck, Y/N.” His incoherent babbling only increases in pitch and frequency the more you run your tongue up and down his neck, never going lower than the collar of his hoodie would pull or higher than his jawline. 

You let your free hand travel up to thread in his soft, chocolate brown locks of hair. You scratch at his scalp a few times, letting your nails drag along his head. A low moan emanates deep within Jisung’s chest, it almost sounds like a purr. His head leans back into your touch. 

“Oh my god,” he murmurs. Every noise that comes out of his mouth is louder than you expect thanks to the earplugs. “Y/N, please– oh fuck , kiss me again, please, oh my god, please, Y/N.”

Pulling away from his neck, you capture his lips in the middle of his babbling. The rest of his words are swallowed by your own mouth. His tongue darts out from his mouth to lick at your lips and coax yours forward.

Your own moans slip between kisses, Jisung can feel the vibrations against his mouth and they drive him absolutely wild. His hands ball up into fists; he wants to touch you so bad. 

“Y/N,” he says your name in between kisses. “Please, c-cut me down.” Your kisses travel down to his jawline. “I want to– Fu-huh-huck! ” You bite down on his neck harshly, sucking a bright purple hickey underneath it. 

Jisung rolls his hips into yours. You can feel how absolutely rock hard his cock is through his sweats. 

“N-Need to touch you. Hah! I’m going insane, Y/N.”

Begs sound so good coming from his lips. 

You run your hands down his chest to tease at the hem of his hoodie before sliding them underneath the fabric and up his bare chest. The muscle that greets you underneath it is a pleasant surprise.

The hard lines of his abs and chest run along the pads of your fingertips. He flexes and tenses under your touch.

Jisung throws his head back with a groan, his weight shifts around on his feet. It feels so fucking good . Every single touch to his body is heaven sent. 

At the top of his chest, you curl your fingers and rake your nails down his skin.

The wail that tears from his throat makes your heart rate pick up ten fold. It sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body. 

“Oh my god, please do that again! ” Jisung begs, his mouth hanging open as he pants over and over again. It seems like he can’t catch his breath. 

Who were you to deny him?

With a featherlight touch, you let your fingers trail up, up, up his body. The closer you got to the top, the faster Jisung’s breathing picks up. 

Right before you curled your fingers again, you smash your lips together in another searing kiss. When you claw down his quickly reddening skin, his cry is swallowed up by your own mouth.

You don’t stop your fingers on their downward descent, you tease the waistband of his sweats, letting your fingers curl around the top of the band and touching the taut skin underneath.

“Ah, hah.” Jisung pants into your mouth. He leans forward and sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it back for it to snap against your teeth. “I want to touch you so bad, Y/N, please .”

“Be patient,” you say against his lips. He doesn’t hear it, but he feels it. A pathetic whine responds to your words. 

You kiss his lips a few more times before dropping down to your knees in front of him. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “Oh god, oh my god.”

You grab his legs with both of your hands starting at the knees and run them up his thighs, taking your time on your ascent. 

“Fuck, fuck , this is really happening.” Jisung gulps. He pulls harder and harder on the ropes. 

When your hands reach the top of his thighs, you run one closer and palm his erection over the top of his sweats. A deep, guttural moan is Jisung’s only response. Even through his sweats you can feel how his cock twitches in your grasp.

His hips buck into your hand when you squeeze him. “F-Fuck, I– Oh god– This is really happening and I can’t even fucking see it .”

You smirk. Maybe you should show him a small bit of mercy. Just a small amount. 

Leaning forward, you kiss his cock over his sweatpants. Jisung gasps and twitches again.

You stand up quickly, coming nose to nose with him. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, they’re so warm from his flushed face.

“Y-Y/N,” he gasps. You peck his lips, letting them linger on his while your hands come up to his ears to take the plugs out. “Y/N,” he repeats on your lips.

“Hi, Jisung,” you breathe against his mouth before kissing him again, letting the earplugs drop to the ground.

You don’t linger for too long, you kiss down his face, down his neck, and then you fall to your knees once more.

“Jesus, Y/N.” 

You don’t tease him too much this time, you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down, his rock hard cock finally coming out. His tip is red and angry. God, how can a dick look so pretty? 

Just as quickly as you got his cock out of his pants, you wrap your hand around him, pumping your hand up and down slowly. 

“Ohhhh my goood,” Jisung mewls. His thighs tense up and flex each time you stroke up and down. “Fuck yeah, Y/N. God, your hands are so fucking soft.”

You tighten your grip and Jisung whines. 

“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”

His cock twitches in your hand at the nickname at the same time a tiny whine escapes his throat.

“Does it?”

“Y-Yes,” he answers shyly.

“Louder, Jisung.”

“Yes, it feels good!”

“Good boy.” Without warning, you lean forward and take the entirety of him inside your mouth.

You can feel his knees buckle and if it wasn’t for the restraints keeping him suspended from the ceiling, he probably would’ve fallen to the ground. 

“Oh, oh m-my, f-fuck, Y/N!”

You’re relentless. You bob your head back and forth on his dick, letting your tongue swirl around the tip when you come up just to go back down and swallow him completely. Jisung’s hands are balled into such tight fists that his knuckles are turning white.

So many different pitches of whines, moans, and groans fall so easily from his lips. Compliments come out in between each one. 

“So good,” he cries. “I can’t fucking– holy shit.”

In some part of your mind, you always knew he would be vocal during sex– but never this vocal. He hasn’t shut up once. Not that you’re complaining, quite the opposite really. You fucking love every single noise that he makes. Each one sends a shock down between your legs. 

Too often you’ve been with partners that conceal how you’re making them feel, but not anymore. Jisung is making sure you know exactly how well you’re doing. 

“Such a perfect mouth, oh god. So fucking warm.”

You let your hand travel up his hoodie again, his abs are clenching and releasing over and over again with how hard he’s panting, you can feel each one under your hands. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants as your hand goes up. “Fucking hurt me, yeah, please, scratch me, Y/N.”

God, the way he’s talking to you is fucking sinful. It’s perfect .

You scratch down his chest just as harshly as you did twice previously. 

Again, Jisung lets out a wail, his hips bucking and fucking his cock down your throat. You gag around him but keep him down your throat regardless.

“I-I-I’m gunna, holy shit, Y/N, I’m g’na– g’na—”

Now, you can’t have that yet, can you?

Quickly, you pull off his cock, letting yourself take a gulp of air. 

Jisung cries out from his ruined orgasm. “No! Shit! Fuck! Why?”

You look around the room while he throws his mini temper tantrum. There’s a small kitchen off to the side of the suite. 

As if you have nothing better to do, you meander over to it, looking around. 

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, hearing you walk away.

“Hm?” you respond.

“W-Where did you go?”

“Still here, baby, why?”

He shifts around, pulling on the ropes. The red color on his ears is getting deeper and deeper. “Just um– Why did you leave?”

You giggle. “Looking for something.”

You open one of the drawers, close it, then open another until you find what you’re looking for. It glints and catches your eye in the third drawer you check. You pick up the knife that was inside the drawer.

You’re walking back in his direction with the knife in your hand.

“D-Did you find what you needed?”

“Yep.”

With frightening grace, you reach up and slice the ropes holding his wrists in the air.

He almost drops to the ground, but you grab a hold of him before he has a chance to fall into the carpet. 

Jisung wastes no time, he grabs at your waist with both of his hands. Through the silk fabric of your dress, you feel the heat of his touch. It scorches into your skin and you wish he would brand his very handprints there.

His lips are already on yours again, feverishly kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped even for a moment. He takes one second to rip the blindfold off his eyes and then he’s back on your mouth.

The hands on your waist don’t stay there long. They run all along your figure, up in your hair, over your neck, grabbing your ass, gripping your hips, he’s everywhere. 

You back up a bit, pulling Jisung with you until the back of your legs are about to hit the bed. Quickly, you spin the two of you around, pushing his chest so that he falls back onto the bed. 

When Jisung finally blinks the confusion from his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you at the foot of the bed. 

You’re looking at him like you’re about to devour his very soul. Your hair is frizzy and tousled, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, your lipstick smudged over your puffy, kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. His fingers curl into the blanket.

You straddle his legs and crawl onto the bed, hiking the skirt of your dress up enough for Jisung to see the strong muscle of your thighs. 

“There’s no way I’m awake right now,” he whispers, hands grabbing at your bare legs and running them up to push your dress further up your body. “I must have been shot. I’m in Heaven right now.”

With a sultry chuckle, you cup his cheek and let your thumb swipe over his lips. “I’m real, baby.”

“Oh my god.”

You reach down and take a hold of his cock, pumping him up and down a few more times. Jisung moans and fights for his eyes to stay open, he can’t get enough of the sight of your hand wrapped around him.

With your other hand, you reach down and pull your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. 

“Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” Jisung whines. His fingers run up your folds, collecting your wetness on his digits and bringing them up to his mouth. He moans around his own fingers at your taste, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Please, I need to–”

You cut him off by squeezing his cock. “Next time. I need you now .”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks out. 

As if he would ever complain.

You line his cock up with your entrance, Jisung grabs your hips with both of his hands, his thumbs pressing against the bone so hard. His breathing is getting faster and faster with each passing second.

Slowly, you sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan out in unison. The stretch feels fucking marvelous inside of you. Jisung’s eyes roll back in his head once more. 

His moans dissolve into silence as his mouth stretches open in an ‘O’. He throbs inside you right before you lift your hips just to drop them again. 

“Oh god,” you moan. “Jisung, you feel so fucking good.”

“Move, please ,” he begs and you bounce up and down again and again. Each time you drop down, it shoots pleasure down through your thighs and into your toes.

You grab his face and smash his lips with yours once more. His tongue immediately finds yours. 

Jisung’s hands wander from your hips all the way around your body to grip your ass while you ride him, his fingers dig into the flesh, kneading it with each bounce. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.”

“O-Oh, fuck yeah . Just like that, baby.”

Jisung pulls away from your lips to kiss down your neck the way you did to him earlier. He takes his hands off your ass to pull the straps of your dress down your arms for your breasts to fall out of the top.

“Shit, baby,” he whines before taking a nipple in his mouth.

Moaning, you pull his hair tighter, keeping his face buried in your chest– not that he seems to mind. His eyebrows pinch together, moans vibrating against your chest as he licks and sucks at your nipple.

His other hand comes up to pinch and pull at the other. Each tweak and flick of his tongue makes your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Your cock feels so good, Jisung,” you moan, clenching on him again. “Stretching me so good, so fucking big.”

He moans, sucking a hickey on the underside of one of your tits. 

The pitch of both of your moans begin to get higher and higher the closer you get to your peaks. Jisung’s heels dig into the carpet and he starts fucking up into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out, holding him tighter. His thrusts are so much wilder than your bounces were. Each one fucks right into your g-spot. “Ji– Jisung, oh god!”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. “Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, yes! Keep going, Ji!”

Every single thrust is driving you wild. Everything about him makes you feel crazy, everything down to the sweat beading on his forehead.

He reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. He rubs circles in the same tempo as his thrusts. 

Closer and closer you approach your own climax, his touch feels too good.

Jisung looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside you over and over again. The very sight of it makes his mouth go dry. 

He groans and falls into your chest. 

“Say it for me, Y/N, say it,” he pants into your neck. “Say you’re close. I-I’m going to fucking bust, say you’re close, I need you to cum on my cock. Need it s-so bad.”

“I am, I am,” you repeat like a mantra. Your own pleasure is making you feel inside, his cock is abusing your walls just right, his thumb on your clit adding an extra level of insanity. 

You pull more at his hair.

Close, close, close. It’s all you can think of. Jisung is enveloping all of your senses. He’s everything in your mind and body and even your soul.

“Gunna cum!” you cry out. “Cumming, cu– cumming!”

With just three more thrusts, your walls clamp down on Jisung’s cock, triggering his own release.

“Jisung, fuck!”

He bites down on your neck, crying out and grabbing you tightly with his free hand. He clings onto you like he would die if he let go.

Hot, sticky cum drips over your walls, leaking out around his cock.

Both of you are panting heavily, unable to move and detangle yourselves from one another. 

Slowly, you release your death grip on his hair, letting your nails drag along his scalp like you did earlier. He hums against your neck, his hands finding your hips again, thumbs massaging you over your dress.

The gentleness of his touch makes you clench around him, your cunt still going through the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Jeeesus…” Jisung moans out, a bit overstimulated. You giggle and pull back to look down at your best friend. He looks up at you with a delighted smile across his face.

You giggle and continue to comb through his hair. 

His eyes fall closed happily and he leans into your touch.

This should feel awkward. You should be having some sort of ‘post-nut clarity’ where you freak out for sleeping with your best friend, but you’re not. 

Right here, right now, you feel safe and content. And your relationship with Jisung feels the same– if not better.

“I knew it,” he hums.

You cock your head to the side. “Knew what?”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Laughing, you lean forward and press a long kiss to his lips. “Yeah.” You kiss him again. “Maybe I am.”

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

“So J was captured and tied up in another room in the convention center?” Chan asks.

You and Jisung had safely returned to Korea with The Refuge about two hours ago. And, per protocol, you both immediately went to Chan’s office for a debrief.

“Affirmative,” you answer. 

“And you got him back, obviously. No problems after that?”

“No, sir.”

Jisung shifts on his chair next to you.

“Uneventful beyond that one hiccup?”

You tongue your cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Chan eyes the two of you curiously from the other side of his desk. But, the mission was complete and everything was done. There was nothing he needed to be wary of. For now.

“Understood. I’ll read about the mission more in your reports. You’re both dismissed.”

The two of you are leaving Chan’s office with thinly veiled smirks on your faces. Just as you’re about to close the door behind you, he calls out.

“Might want to cover the hickeys next time!”

#fic recs

[write143]

Nothing makes me angrier at fanfiction than finishing a 200k+ word fic and getting to the last chapter being an "epilogue" with mpreg...and no tag for it.

I COULDN'T FINISH THE EPILOGUE.

I appreciate writers for sharing their work, but AAAGH. To have such an important tag missing...I cry.

#ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE #PLEASE TAG YOUR FANFICTION

[write143]

Oh my god, this is so perfect!

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Changbin x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Changbin become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (14,5k words)

Author's note: I chose Changbin because it's cuffing season and now we got a reason to get a big boy, I want a big boy oh.... ifykyk

"Oh, this is so beautiful!" You sigh in amazement at the beautiful view of the beach.

You turn your head to the beautiful blond girl you're holding hands with, Sabine and it feels nice to be the first one to enter the villa with her.

"Oh, my Gosh!" She gasps, looking as amazed as you.

There are two small round tables with bottles of chilled wine inside the bucket of ice. Sabine takes one bottle and manages to pop it open without hassle.

You hurriedly take two champagne flutes and hold them as she pours the bubbly wine, she squeals as she almost overfills them.

"Cheers!" You both exclaim with your glasses clinking against each other.

Sabine gasps after taking a long sip and looks at you, "You're really pretty," she says.

Who doesn't like hearing a compliment especially when it comes from a beautiful person?

"You too," you say back with a cheeky smile.

"I see that you pierced your nipple," she says, easily spotting your pierced nipple through your blue bikini.

"Yes. I like them," you show her the piercings you have on both of your ears.

"That's really cool!"

"I did them myself," you proudly tell her.

Sabine gasps at that, "You're wild!"

Well, it's something you often hear people say about you, that you're wild and probably have been that way ever since you knew boys.

-

YOU: I'm the main character of my life, not a secondary one. I have a lot to give [winks] so bring me men, bring me women, bring me whatever. I hate rules and I do not follow them. I'm a little crazy [laughs] I'm not here to fall in love. I'm here to have fun.

-

"Wait, I'm picking up an accent here," you notice that Sabine is carrying an accent in the way she speaks.

She swallows her wine before saying, "I'm French."

"Oh, la la!" You playfully say with a nudge on her shoulder.

Sabine has that blue eyes that slowly drowns you in them and she knows how to use them as a form of seduction.

"Stop staring at me like that, you're so hot," you tell her while fanning yourself.

She laughs in satisfaction, "I got the feeling that you're open to anything."

You allow yourself to look at her small, heart-shaped face and her ski slope nose with a nose ring on the left nostril, there's no doubt that you can easily vibe with her.

"I am," you shortly confirm.

She gives you the eyes again and flashes you a flirty smile, "We're going to have so much fun then," she raises her glass for another toast.

If they leave you two alone for another minute, you're sure you would be kissing her already but fortunately, the next guest enters the villa.

"Okay, he's cute," Sabine comments while holding her glass close to her mouth.

First, this guy is so tall and he has that dirty blond hair that he keeps brushed to the back.

"Hello," he greets both of you with a bright smile.

He stands between the two of you to introduce himself, "I'm Oliver."

"I'm Sabine," she introduces herself as they exchange a quick hug.

As he turns to hug you, you hurriedly introduce yourself to him. You hand him a glass next and Sabine fills it for him.

"Where are you from?" Sabine asks.

"Guess where I'm from!" He dares you with a sly smile.

His distinct accent is not hard to guess, "Australia?"

"Yeah, but I've been living in the US," he adds, then takes a sip of his drink.

"My ex is Australian so I know," you mindlessly share.

That gets Oliver's head turned at you, "So, you're into Australians?"

"Sometimes, yeah," you give him a vague answer just to amuse him.

That seems to work wonderfully as he has his eyes on you until he realizes that he has another girl to pay attention to.

"You guys look gorgeous by the way," he says as he takes a step back just to check out the two of you.

"Oh, thank you!" Sabine says with a bashful smile.

"Anyway, what are you looking for in this show?" You ask him out of curiosity.

"I'm here to have a damn good time, honestly," he answers with a grin.

"Yes! Cheers to that!" Sabine says, initiating another toast by lifting her glass in the air.

-

YOU: They're so hot. I can definitely have a good threesome with them [laughs]

-

Changbin has no pressure whatsoever to be the last one to enter the villa.

He has so many things to offer more than just his looks. He's a confident man, he knows what he wants, and a great conversationist. A fair warning though, those good qualities are followed by a short fuse. Let's hope no one is having intentions to spark that fuse.

Changbin takes pride in being dominant but he balances it with his loyalty. He may be a casual dater but he never cheated on his partners or led them on when he has no interest in taking the relationship further.

In other words, whoever gets to be with him is lucky.

With the mindset that he owns this show already, Changbin steps into the villa, walking in confident strides that match his smoldering eyes.

If he thinks that he's it, then everyone would believe that he is it and Changbin feels like he owns this place already.

His presence demands attention and all eyes are on him, looking at him with eyes that are either curious or impressed.

"Hello there, big boy!" One of the girls greets him rather enthusiastically.

She introduces herself right away to him with a cheek kiss, "I'm Niamh."

"Changbin," he tells her his name and proceeds to introduce himself to the other guests.

All of the males are taller and more good-looking than him but he has all the girls' attention on him. See? It's not about looks, it's about how he carries himself.

"I'm just going to be honest, you're so my type," the other girl says to him.

"Yeah?" Changbin asks with a cocky smile.

"Yeah," she answers.

He believes her name is Riley and she is a gorgeous brunette with legs for days.

"Come over here then and have a drink with me," he says, leading her to the other table and popping a new bottle of champagne open.

-

CHANGBIN: I have a strong personality. I need someone to match me, I like them wild just so I can tame them [smiles] A look can say it all [flexes biceps] I put my whole body in the game so there's no reason to look at me and not want me right? [seductively smiles]

-

You didn't believe in love at first sight but today, when you saw those five guys walking into the villa, you fell in love five times in one day.

The last guy though, ooh, he exudes a strong aura, a charisma that you rarely find in men. Not to mention, he's big and muscular, you feel the urge to climb him like he was a tree.

Not wanting to make it obvious, you turn your body to the girl standing next to you, a Brazilian hottie, Rita.

"My god, he's delicious," you quietly whisper to her with an overwhelmed sigh.

Rita's eyes automatically search for the one you're talking about, "Who is?"

You glance at where he's standing, "Changbin."

"Who is Changbin?" She innocently asks.

You snicker in response and put your arm around her arm, it's convenient because she has a petite yet toned body.

"You're just one clueless baby, aren't you?"

For now, he's occupied by Riley as she keeps filling his glass with more wine but you can see that he's not that interested in her.

Frankly, you have more to offer to him.

-

YOU: Changbin... The things I want to do to that man. Ugh! [groans]

-

The first stop on the tour of the villa is the bedroom and everyone is excited at the number of beds in the room. There are ten of them and only six beds in the room, everyone has to pair up or they can choose to sleep alone on the bed.

Changbin has a plan to get himself a bed partner soon but he doesn't want to be hasty about it. He considers himself lucky that he's been getting the eyes from a couple of girls but he's curious about one girl and that's you.

Frankly, you're just as attractive as the others but you have this charm that inexplicably attracts him, making him want to get to know you more.

He sees you sitting at the end of a bed and decides to sit next to you.

"Where are you going to sleep?" He asks.

You lean back on the bed with your hands propped against the mattress, "I don't know," you answer with a cheeky smile.

"Where do you think should I sleep?" You ask him back with your eyes staring deeply into his eyes.

This level of confidence, not only that he likes it, Changbin feels the need to match it.

"On these big arms," he answers while showing off his big, toned arms.

Catching you ogling at them, he uses it to his advantage to let you touch him, "Want to touch it?"

"I wouldn't say no to that," you answer with a sly smile.

Changbin quickly pumps his arm for a while to present you with his glorious biceps, "You can touch them now," he says.

Your hand flies to feel his muscles, "Oh, wow, that's hard," you say in awe.

"Is that hard enough for you?"

You let out a chuckle, "For now, yeah."

"I can pump it again for you," he jokingly offers.

Your hand glides up his arm and rests it on his shoulder, "Or I can pump it for you next time," you make a lewd joke.

He has to admit that you know how to make him hot and bothered and he's not the type that easily gets hot and bothered.

-

CHANGBIN: I'm going to keep my options open but I got a head start so now I just have to maintain it.

-

"So girls, if you have to pick one right now without thinking too much, who would you pick?" Niamh asks with a thick Irish accent.

The girls are all gathered in the firepit to talk about the boys and which one of them they fancy. Sabine gets to be the first to reveal her answer, she turns her head to look at the boys who are hanging out in the cabana.

"I don't know... can I just let them pick me?" Sabine says with a giggle.

That's easy for her to say since she's the most popular girl in the retreat, you bet half of the boys are talking about her right now.

"How about you, Rita?"

Rita is busy playing with her hair to pay attention to the conversation going around the space, "What?"

She happens to sit next to you so you put your hand on her knee to keep her engaged, "Is there anyone you fancy?"

"Oh, I like Liam," she says.

Nico is dark and tall and has a gorgeous smile, you can see why Rita is attracted to him. They would make a cute pair with their height difference.

"Oh, yeah, Liam is one hella piece of chocolate," you nod in agreement.

Rita breaks into laughter at your words, "I bet he'll melt in my mouth," she cheekily says.

Niamh looks at the girl sitting at the end of the sofa, "Riley?"

"I want to keep my options open but I got my eyes on Changbin," she answers.

Welp, there goes your competition.

"You're not upset, right?" Riley thinks you wouldn't catch her throwing a glance at you but she's wrong to think that you'd feel threatened.

"Not at all," you calmly answer.

"Well, he's really hot," Riley shamelessly adds with a laugh.

"He is hot. Who disagrees?" You respond with a coy shrug.

-

YOU: If she feels like it, just do it. I'll do whatever I want but if someone tries to cut me off then... [blows kisses] bye-bye baby.

-

"Girls!"

Everyone's head turns to see Liam calling for them from across the swimming pool with the rest of the boys.

"Come, join us!" He says, inviting everyone for an impromptu pool party.

Not long after everyone gets into the water, they scatter to get some move on and you decide to wade your way to the side of the pool.

You have time to get your moves later and if someone snatched your guy away, it would be alright with you, you're here to have fun anyway.

Talking about fun, you see that you're about to get some.

It's hard not to notice that Changbin is making his way to you, his hands are wading in the water as he gets closer to you. With a hand pushed against the wall of the pool next to you, that leaves not much space between your bodies.

Changbin doesn't say anything but looks at you with a smile plastered on his face.

"You look shorter from a distance but you're actually quite tall," you tell him, even though he's only a couple of inches taller than you but men like it whenever a girl compliments their physique.

"Well, I'm huge," he simply says and he probably thinks you won't notice that he slowly closing the gap between your bodies.

Your eyes automatically look at the beads of water trickling down his arms and chest, you don't even try to keep it subtle while doing it.

"Yeah, I can see that," you tell him.

Changbin seems to like being ogled on, his mouth curls into a cocky smirk and it looks so damn attractive on him.

You look at him and brush your wet hair to the back, "How about me?"

"Very hot," he answers without a beat.

The way he eagerly answers you tell how much he's been waiting for you to ask him that, and you can't help but chuckle at it.

"A bit aggressive, okay..." you respond with a nod.

He rests another hand against the wall of the pool, caging you in between while closing another inch of space between your bodies.

"Why not?"

"Well, you could say I'm cute," you answer with your head tilted to the side while maintaining eye contact with him.

His hand moves to your side, holding you by your ribcage with his thumb teasing the elastic band of your bikini top.

"You're cute, you're gorgeous, you have good energy," he compliments you as he steals another inch to get closer to you.

"And you're really hot," he finishes with a flirty smile.

It's in the eyes and the words he said, he knows how to combine those two and turn them into a weapon.

You gently push him away but seeing how big he is, of course, it's a useless effort.

"You're bad, you're a smooth talker," you tell him with giggles.

He puts on a triumphant smile, "You can make me good," he says.

You look away to collect some senses into your head, not wanting to fall into his trap just yet. It's still early, you still want to explore your options.

"Not sure about that but do whatever you want," you tell him with a light head shake.

There comes the sly smirk on his face again, "So, I can do whatever I want, huh?" He says.

You keep your hand on his chest to stop him from coming closer, "Do whatever you want in your personal space," you correct your first remark.

There's no winning against him, Changbin takes another step to close the remaining gap between your bodies, "Well, I'm in your personal space now," he says with his face mere inches away from yours.

Your hand on his chest fails to stop him so you may as well use it to feel his firm muscles. You can feel you're slowly cracking under his intense, lustful gaze. You quickly look to the side and have nothing to say back to him.

He pushes his body against you and you can feel the heat his body emits even though you are both soaked in water. He then leans into the side of your face and whispers, "We're in a shared space now so what's going to happen?"

Changbin knows how to play this game, his eye, his words, and now his whole body is pushed against you, they're all moving under one powerful command and that is to conquer you.

He makes you forget about your surroundings and everyone can see what he's doing to you. You dare yourself to look at him and place your hands on his chest.

Still, you have nothing to say to him knowing that he'll use it against you.

"Come on," he says, getting bolder by putting his arm around your waist.

"Just a kiss," he mutters with his hot breath fanning your neck, not hesitating to kiss your neck afterward.

Oh, fuck, he's so confident and aggressive, the next thing you know, he'll be preying on you. You find it hard to resist him and can only lowly laugh at his persistence but what's the fun of giving him what he wants? This cocky boy needs to learn a little patience.

At once, you push him stronger than before, sending him a few steps back, and that way, you can escape him.

Changbin hits the water and it splashes over you, "Come back!"

You're only laughing at him as you're heading to the steps and before getting out of the pool, you look over your shoulder at Changbin, "Later!."

-

YOU: I can tell that this guy is going to give me a hard time.

-

Changbin wouldn't say that he failed, it's just that, you're a little tricky to win over.

He gets it that maybe it's just day one and you want to keep your options open, but he doesn't want to waste time.

Changbin dries himself off with a towel and then sits on the empty lounger.

"I see that you made your move, man," Liam says, sitting on the lounger next to him.

Changbin tosses his towel away and sits with his hands clasped in front of him, "Yeah, but you saw everything, she's acting like—"

"Just let it go, you know, go with the flow, let the gears spin," Liam cooly suggests.

If Liam still wants to go with the flow then that's his choice, but Changbin doesn't see why he should wait when he already knows what he wants and he wants you, there's no one else that catches his interest like you.

He can see that you have quite a fiery personality, you're passionate and forthright, and there's nothing fake about you. He senses that you're a little wild but he knows what to do about it.

"Frankly, I would hook up with all of the girls, they're all attractive," Changbin gives his honest opinion.

Liam nods in approval, his dark curly hair bouncing along with him.

"But she's the one that I can connect with more than the other," Changbin continues as he takes his water tumbler to take a sip.

"Yeah, you make a good match," Liam comments.

Changbin swallows his water before continuing to talk, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after.

"I want to know whether it's mutual or not," Changbin says.

"Yeah, yeah," Liam nodding along to his words.

"If it's not then that's the way it is," Changbin finishes then takes another sip of water.

"Then go for it, man! Take control of the game!" Liam encourages him.

It doesn't get to him that he has indeed lost control of the situation. Liam is right and he knows exactly what to do.

Changbin should get back on his feet and call you to the game.

-

CHANGBIN: It's time to take control of the game [smirks]

-

Taking advantage of the empty dressing room, you decide to be the first one to shower and put on a new pair of bikini. After drying your hair, you think of putting on something over your bikini.

You're standing in front of your closet as you try to settle on your choice of clothing. Hearing footsteps coming toward you, you close the door of your closet to see who it is.

Knowing his personality, Changbin wouldn't stop until he gets what he wants so you kind of expect that he'll come for you again, but not this soon.

He leans the side of his body against the closet and looks at you, giving you the eyes without saying anything.

"Stop looking at me like that," you tell him with a chuckle.

He stays quiet but crosses his arms on his chest as his smile grows wider on his face.

You turn to face him and ask, "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" He asks you back because he knows that you know.

"Okay, you don't need to say it," you tell him and you can't escape him again, not this time.

He leans in close and sweetly asks, "Can I do it?"

You subtly roll your eyes at him, "Do you even have to—"

With or without your permission, he's going to kiss you anyway so you lean in first and let him do the rest.

The kiss is intense, like you can feel how much he wants it and at the same time, he wants to show you what he is capable of. He puts his arms around you before resting his back against the closet. With the strength he has, you're sure you can't easily escape him this time.

But boy, he knows how to kiss, he knows how to make you dizzy with the way he uses both his plush lips and slick tongue. He makes you feel like breathing isn't necessary, you just want to keep kissing him until you turn blue.

Driven by the desire, you find yourself pushing him against the wall and opening your mouth for him, a moan or two escapes your mouth in between kisses.

When your lungs feel like catching fire, you let go of the kiss but not without sucking on his lower lip first.

Changbin smirks, liking what you're doing to him and you expect no less than that.

You have him caged between your arms now as you catch your breath, looking at him with filthy thoughts in your head and you bet he thinks the same things too.

"I know what you're doing to me," he says.

Well, great minds think alike.

"Mmh? Yeah?" You let your breath brush his cheek.

You crack a laugh at how he stifles a breath as you put your whole weight against him, pressing onto his crotch.

"Are you laughing? How about I throw you onto that table, mmh?" He taunts you but that only gets you excited.

"Shh..." You shush him and press another kiss on his lips to shut him up.

You feel his hand glides down to your ass and fondles it as he deepens the kiss. It's so quiet in the room that you can only hear the smooching sounds of your kisses, it's good that no one comes into the dressing room and interrupts the two of you.

Changbin lets go of your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and kisses you there. You drop your hands around his shoulders, allowing him to bury his head in the crook of your neck.

With one slobbering kiss on the column of your neck, Changbin finally lets go.

"I'd better go," he says.

You giggle because not only that he doing the opposite of what he said, but he tightens his arms around you.

"I'm getting excited," he continues with a heavy sigh.

The growing bulge inside his swimming trunk is apparent and you can feel it without having to look at it, "Yeah, I feel it," you tell him.

Truthfully, you don't feel sorry for turning him on but you do feel bad for not taking responsibility for it. You take a step back to put a space between your bodies yet Changbin pulls you by the elbow to place a long peck on your lips and smiles when he pulls away.

It seems like you're already trapped in his charms but what's there to lose? You win big here.

-

YOU: I can't say it was bad because it wasn't. It was so fucking good [groans] I want more!

-

Excitement and jitters are mixed into one in the dressing room as everyone gets ready for tonight.

The excitement comes from everyone getting so hyped up for the first party in the villa while the jitters come from not knowing what the first quest will be.

"What do you think the first quest is?" Niamh asks while coloring her pale cheeks with pink blush.

You cluelessly shake your head, "I have no idea," you answer.

"As long as I don't have to hunt or skin animals, I'm good," Riley says with a laugh.

As for yourself, you feel good about tonight. You put on your best outfit, put make-up on and a thick coat of red lipstick.

The boys are already waiting as you and the other girls are coming to join them by the pool, everyone takes a drink served on the table along with trays of bite-sized food.

Everyone raises their glasses in the air to propose a toast.

"To a good time!" Liam leads the toast.

"To a good time!" Everyone repeats.

Sabine adds a high-pitched scream at the end of the toast as she clinks her glass with yours, sending the sweety alcoholic drink sloshing out of the glass and trickling down your wrist.

You laugh it off and sip your drink at the same time the music starts playing, kicking off the party with an upbeat song.

"Got you!" Someone says, holding you from the back.

From the size of his arms, you can tell who it is. You immediately turn around to face him and put your glass away, "be careful," you warn about the little incident you had earlier with your drink.

Ignoring your warning, Changbin takes your hand and places an open-mouthed kiss on your wrist, from there, he continues his trail of kisses upward, along your arm and stopping at your shoulder.

You giggle as he places a final kiss on your neck, "Put your drink away and dance with me," you say.

He obeys right away, putting his drink on the table nearby and back to putting his hands on your waist. The two of you dance with your foreheads pressed in the middle and your bodies slowly swaying against the fast-paced music.

It's either the weather or the proximity or the intensity of his stare, you find yourself feeling hot inside and out. You can feel a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead.

Changbin drops his head into your neck and you feel him inhaling your scent.

"Do you like how I smell?" You playfully ask him.

He smiles against your neck and nods, "Smells heavenly."

You place a kiss on his jaw and get a quick sniff of his perfume. He smells of musk and citrus which is something that quite captures him as a person.

"You smell good too," you tell him with a smile.

The hand resting on the arch of your back moves up to the nape of your neck and you can easily guess what he's going to do next.

The second he starts leaning in, you close your eyes and feel his lips on yours the next second. The tongue that pries open your mouth, the hand taking a fistful of your hair and the other one that grips your waist only proves that his kiss is never just a kiss, it's passionate, deep, and hungry, and it consumes you whole.

Ultimately, he does it to show everyone that you're his.

You have to push him by the chest to stop kissing you as you're running out of breath, "I need to breathe, don't you think?"

Changbin responds with a shameless grin and draws you close again, not letting you get away from him.

You wipe the lipstick mark on his lips with your thumb only for him to kiss you again. You roll your eyes at him in response to that.

"It looks good on me so leave it," he coyly says to you.

You manage to dodge away as he's about to kiss you again and laugh at him while he pouts at you.

Changbin sure has a distinct charm that you rarely find in a guy.

You lean in this time and place a long peck on his plump lips, slowly forgetting about your surroundings and that you're filming a TV show.

The lights suddenly off in the villa and the music abruptly stops, everyone turns their heads to the source of lights remaining in the vicinity.

The staff leads everyone to the beach and not long after, you see a boat coming ashore. As everyone else is cheering, you feel a little nervous about it.

"Do you think it's the first quest?" Niamh asks from next to you.

The quests! It only sinks into you now that the show tells you that the guests have to do a series of quests to win the show.

After registering everything, you gasp in surprise, "Oh, my God!"

Someone is getting off the boat and you assume he's the host of the show, he takes a stand on the small platform propped on the sand.

"Welcome to Love Quest!" He starts.

Everyone is cheering and applauding, then Oliver comes out of nowhere and puts his arm around your shoulder, his cheeks are blushed from drinking.

"What do you think we'll do?" He asks the same question with Rita.

"No idea," you honestly tell him.

The host takes a look at everyone with a cryptic smile on his face, "What do you think the first quest is?"

"I don't know but I'll probably shit my pants," Riley answers with a laugh.

"Well, are you ready for it?" The host turns on his feet to look at the boat.

"Yes!" Everyone answers in unison, followed by more claps and cheers.

"Time to find out your first quest!"

Two people are carrying a box down the boat, from the way they carefully place it next to the host with a loud thud, you can tell how heavy it is.

The host holds the handle of the lid of the box and keeps his cryptic smile on his face.

"This is your first quest..."

-

YOU: Oh, my God! What is about to happen?

-

Changbin has no idea why everyone is shocked to see a cone rising out of the box.

It must have something to do with the quest right? But why does everyone have to be this devastated? It's just—

Standing next to him, Sabine asks, "Is this what I think it is?"

"What?" Changbin cluelessly asks her back because he's confused still.

"Oh, my God!" Sabine turns panic with her hand flying to cover her mouth.

He looks around and everyone is having similar reactions as Sabine, except him, he's the only one being utterly confused.

Changbin helps Sabine steadies herself and asks, "What? Tell me! What?"

Sabine turns her head at him to finally answer him, "This is too hot to handle."

What is that? He asks himself, going deeper into the pit of confusion. He's more curious as to why everyone is acting like it's the end of the world.

Then the cone chimes and lights up, startling him because he thinks that it's just an air freshener or a portable speaker, not an AI talking robot.

"As you can see, this is no longer Love Quest," Lana begins.

He looks to the side and notices you with your mouth hanging open.

"This is Too Hot To Handle," he cone announces.

"No!" Sabine groans, grabbing at Changbin's arm.

"That means no fun, ever!" She emphasizes every word with deep sorrow.

"You have been specially selected because all of you are having meaningless flings over genuine relationships."

"That's rude!" Niamh shouts at the cone.

While Oliver grins and agrees right away, "Not wrong at all!"

"Since your arrival, I have been gathering data on your wild behavior but from now on, you must adhere to my retreat rules."

Next to Sabine, Changbin sees Liam put his hands on each side of his head, looking upset. He catches him looking, then says, "Oh man, I didn't get to rub one out to like, you know, say goodbye."

Changbin has no idea what it's got to do with the rules or maybe...

"No kissing."

What? Changbin has kissed you so many times only to be told that he can't do it again?

"No heavy petting."

It starts to dawn on him why everyone reacted the way they were when the cone popped out of the box.

"No sex."

He gets why everyone acts like it's the end of the world because it's far worse than that.

"The rules also apply to self-gratification."

"Shit! Fuck!" Changbin curses out of reflex at the mention of it.

Not only that he can't do physical things to other people, he can't even touch his own body. Does that even make sense?

Sabine hits her head at Changbin's arm, "We're fucked!"

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

"That changes everything," Liam comments

There's money on the line now and that motivates everyone to follow the rule and some people are cheering in excitement.

Well, the money sounds good but to earn it by refraining from any sexual practices for a month? That's kind of impossible for Changbin.

"Surely, we can spend a few grand," Oliver says with his arm around you.

Changbin allows him for now as he seems a little tipsy.

"No, man, no!" Liam quickly shuts him off, putting an end to his rebellious ideas.

"But we got 200k of them," Oliver says with a subtle grin.

Liam lightly shakes his head at him, "Oh, no, you're going to mess this up for all of us," he says, sensing troubles in what Oliver said.

Looking at Sabine, Changbin believes that Oliver is going to have a hard time not touching her. Then he looks at you and realizes that it's going to be hell for him too.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer!"

-

CHANGBIN: It's too late to back out right? [Clicks tongue] Guess we're going to go with it [sighs]

-

"That was a bad party," you groan, taking off your strappy heels as it's hard to walk on the sand in them.

Rita links her arm with you to walk back to the villa together, "How much do you think a kiss costs?"

"Two to three grand, I guess?" You wildly guess.

You're familiar with the show but never stayed long to pay attention to how the show works except that it doesn't allow you to get all kinds of sexual with each other which is going to be difficult for you.

All these times, you do things as you please and that includes kissing or even sex. It's so easy for you to do it with anyone because you keep things casual, with no attachments whatsoever which makes it easier.

Now that the fun is being taken away from you, you have no idea how you're going to do it. It becomes harder later that you're sharing a bed with a man that you are physically attracted to.

Seriously though, what have you done that makes you deserve this?

You're not the only one moaning and groaning in complaint about these sudden rules in the villa, the girls can't stop talking as they remove their make-up to get ready for bed. Your bedtime routine takes double the time as you can't help but join in on the chat with the girls.

"Which one do you think is going to be first to rule break?" Riley asks while brushing her long brown hair as she speaks.

"Not me," Niamh immediately answers.

You glance at Sabine who's giggling in response to Riley's question, "Sabine..."

Sabine puts her hand under her chin, "I think we should kiss each other and be the first to break the rules," she gives her opinion.

"That's not a bad idea," Rita agrees with her.

"No, I think we should make the boys sweat a bit," Riley offers another idea.

"I like that more, yes," you agree with her.

"But Oliver is so hot and I'm sharing the bed with him," Sabine whines at you.

You shrug because you have no answer to that, you're in the same predicament as her.

"Sabine, no, honey, you can do it!" Niamh encourages her

You sense that Niamh is going to be the protector of the prize money and you can't blame her for that, it's a lot of money, and you would love to win it.

However, the possibility for you to win that money is close to zero.

"Something about being told not to do something, you know," Riley says, now braiding her hair in one big pigtail.

"I know, right?" Sabine gasps.

For you, rules are something you are never good at following because they are meant to be broken anyway so why bother following them in the first place?

-

YOU: Now that I can't have it, I want it more [bites lips]

-

It's been an eventful day and he's looking forward to ending it.

Changbin sees that you're stepping into the room and heading straight to his bed, this is the part he's been looking forward to, he wants to end this day with you.

It sucks that he has Lana's rules to follow but that doesn't stop him from feeling ecstatic to share the bed with you. Especially with you dressed in a short night dress that barely covers your ass.

Oh, it's going to be a long, agonizing night for him to try not to touch you.

A smile dances on your face as you crawl on the bed and sit next to him with your back facing the room, you innocently rest your hand on his thigh like it wouldn't affect him.

"Is this what you're wearing to bed?" You ask him, pinching the hem of his black boxer.

"Yeah," he simply answers, looking at his sleeping attire of a boxer and a black t-shirt.

Changbin tries to look at your face but the plunging neckline of your night dress keeps distracting him, he can also see your nipples poking through the thin fabric.

However, his hand remains steady on your thigh, fingers lightly rubbing the skin to feel how smooth it is.

It's getting a little noisy in the bedroom with everyone talking all at once, or they're simply as excited to share beds.

You look over your shoulder for a while then put your leg between his as you look back at him, "I think it's going to be so weird to have sex in front of people," you suddenly say out of nowhere.

Changbin is half listening when his eyes are busy listing over your body, "Yeah..."

"Not that we're going to," you quickly add with low giggles.

Your hand glides up to his stomach and slipping it under his t-shirt, it's like you know that's his sensitive area.

"Just saying..." you add with a playful grin.

Now that you hinted at it, he can't help but imagine it, and without waiting for his brain to send the command, his hand moves up to your waist and grips it.

"Because you know, you get going..." you slightly grind on his thigh and pretend to moan to show it to him.

"And you know, like, it's going to be so loud," you finish talking with a sly smile on your face, knowing what you just did to him and what it does to him.

Changbin's imagination is getting vivid and he bites his lower lip to suppress the urge to kiss you. He plays with the lace fabric of the hem of your night dress, "Is that how you do it?"

You tip your head to the side, "What? Fast and loud?"

"If we do it fast, I'm not sure you can keep up with me," he says with a daring smirk, fueling his filthy mind with his own words.

You prop your hands against the mattress to hover above him and then mutter, "I just want you to throw me around."

Then you put your body on top of him which he gladly embraces, he can feel your body slowly molding into his and it feels so intimate to feel each other's bodies like this as he puts his arms around you to keep you close.

You feel soft and small against him, Changbin gets the urge to protect and take care of you but at the same time, he wants to rip your clothes off and make you cry out of pleasure.

And he never met someone that made him feel that way until today.

-

CHANGBIN: She makes me horny as hell, makes me want to get down and dirty right there with her.

-

Maybe both of you were mentally drained from the revelation that this is not Love Quest anymore and not much happened before you both went to sleep last night.

Through the curtains, you can see that it's already bright outside but the lights aren't on yet.

Changbin's arm is draped around your waist and you clutch it close to your chest, snuggling yourself close to his body.

"Oh?" You lowly gasp, feeling something poking behind you.

You feel tempted to touch it or at least, take a look at it but you refrain, you decide to tease him by rubbing your ass against his morning wood.

It doesn't take long for him to realize what you've been doing to him, he lays his hand flat on your stomach to stop you but you're relentlessly continuing to do it.

"Stop it," he scolds into your ear but you pick up the playful cadence in his sleepy voice.

Ignoring him, you arch your back more and keep teasing him. This time, Changbin firmly grips at your waist to stop you.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he mutters.

You decide to obey him and pull at his arm, wanting him to hold you close again.

Changbin puts away the hair covering your neck then places a long kiss there, he places another kiss on your shoulder blade before cuddling you again.

"Mmh..." he delightfully hums, "I can get used to this."

And you can't think of a better place to wake up to than next to him, it feels warm and snug in his arms and you don't think you'd get it from anyone else but him.

Then the lights are on and the cone chimes, waking up everyone from their slumber.

"Good morning, everyone!" Lana greets.

It's not ideal to start the day hearing the cone talking but then again, you're here under her authority.

"Morning," you sleepily answer.

You lay on your back but Changbin clings to you, burying his head in your neck with his hand resting across your chest.

"Get ready for some fun in the sun but the only way you're going to get wet is getting into the pool."

Lana is a robot but she surely masters sheer sarcasm and you admire her for that, she's not one to mess with.

"Is there any way we can turn her off?" Oliver asks with a gruff voice.

That shifts everyone's attention to his shared bed with Sabine and you notice the subtle smile on her face, "Looking so smug there," you tease her.

Sabine softly chuckles and brushes her hair to the back, not saying anything but resting her head on Oliver's shoulder.

They seem suspicious that Niamh can't help herself but ask, "What's going on, guys?"

"Nothing," Oliver answers for both of them, sweeping his hair to the side.

What everyone is doing is not your business so you choose to mind yours, hugging Changbin and feeling the muscles on his back.

"What are your plans for today?" You ask.

After a moment, he finally answers, "Working out."

"After that?"

"Shower."

"After that?"

"Breakfast."

"And what time are we going to break the rules?" You playfully ask him but you're curious if you both have the same thoughts about it.

Changbin lifts his head to look at you to see if you are serious or not, then cracks a laugh.

"Tonight?" You ask again.

Not getting an answer, you slip your hand into his soft curls and ask again, "Tonight at 8, mmh?"

He looks at you again and you both burst into laughter at the same time. He overlaps your body with his and nuzzles his nose into your neck.

"What do you think we should do, mmh?" You tease him more with a gentle ruffle on his hair, "Kiss? Handy? Sex? Anal?"

Changbin breaks into laughter again and he has the kind of laugh that is infectious, making anyone who hears it laugh along with him.

Jokes aside, you get the feeling that Changbin hesitates to break the rules, you can't tell if is it because of you or if he has his reasons.

Well, there's always a way to find out.

-

YOU: If he wants to come up to me, he can get some talk, he can get some actions [smirks] I'm up for anything.

-

Changbin is feeling refreshed after taking a shower.

He worked out a little late into the afternoon because of the big breakfast he had this morning, he felt the need to lose the extra weight he gained and turned them into muscles.

He almost bumps into Liam as he enters the dressing room, not knowing that there are people in there.

"What's up, man?" Nico asks who happens to be there as well, playing with the girls' make-up brushes.

"Not much," Changbin shortly replies as he opens his closet.

Not long after, Oliver comes into the room, grinning ear to ear. He just stands in front of everyone but not saying anything.

Changbin smells trouble from him, "Looking smug. Where have you been?"

"Just had some alone time," he talks almost inaudibly.

"With Sabine?" Nico asks for confirmation.

Oliver starts pacing around the room still slyly smiling, it's like he waits for someone to catch up on it.

"Oh, don't tell me you kissed!" Liam says with a defeated sigh.

Changbin can tell the answer right away from the smile plastered on his face, "It's true," he confirms for anyone.

Liam calls Changbin and even though he's only dressed with a towel around his waist, he helps Liam corner Oliver and forces him to confess.

"Why are you guys so big?" Oliver asks both of them, looking slightly intimidated by their sizes.

"What did you do?" Liam asks him again.

Oliver holds his hands up and nods, "Yeah, we had a little kiss."

"Oh, no, it's only day two, bro!" Nico says from behind Changbin.

With his hands up, Oliver starts to explain, "We had a moment, okay?"

Changbin walks back to his closet to start putting clothes on and sees Liam is still towering over Oliver, "Is that the only thing you did?"

"Yeah," Oliver answers.

Liam then looks around the room to see every there, the boys are all here except for Shane.

"Now if any of us do any rule breaks, I'd appreciate it if you just... fess up," he says to everyone.

Oliver nods in agreement with a winning grin for successfully becoming the first one to break the rules in the retreat.

It's getting interesting now that the first rule break has occurred and it's only about time other people start doing it too.

Changbin wonders if he should do something about his appointment at 8 tonight.

-

CHANGBIN: Is it going to be my turn? [Smirks] I might do something tonight. We'll see.

-

It's only about time that someone broke the rules and you're right to put your money on Sabine.

However, you didn't expect that it was going to happen this soon, Sabine and Oliver did it in less than twenty-four hours after Lana's sex ban.

"You think everyone is mad at me?" Sabine nervously asks you.

Everyone shouldn't act like they're going to be perfect going forward, the retreat has only just begun so there's no guarantee that there'll be saints left at the end of the retreat.

"You know I was just waiting for someone to do it," you honestly tell her.

Sabine pauses applying her lip liner and cracks a laugh, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, me and my man have a plan now," you jokingly say.

"What are your plans?"

"We're going to give each other head," you joke.

The actual plan is not very far from it, you're going to look so good tonight that Changbin can't resist you. You check yourself in the full-length mirror in the dressing room and are satisfied with what you see.

"I look so hot," you praise yourself, turning around to see the back view.

Rita comes and puts her arm around your waist, posing together in front of the mirror with you.

"We look hot!"

The night is warm with the scent of the sea clinging in the air. You grab a drink before stepping out of the villa to prepare you for tonight.

"Looking gorgeous," Shane compliments as you meet him by the pool.

You take a moment to look and search for something you can compliment on him "I like the shirt," you say with a quick pull at the collar of his shirt.

"We're kind of matching, you see?"

You're wearing a white top with a black leather skirt while he wears blue jeans with a striped blue and white shirt, the similarities are almost nonexistent but hey, he's just trying to shoot his shot.

"Yeah, we kind of do," you say to him.

Let's see if Shane got game so you stop by the terrace to give him the chance to play.

"Have you ever dated an English guy?" He asks out of the blue.

A bit too strong for an opener but okay, "Nah," you answer.

He takes a step closer, then asks, "Never?"

You look him in the eyes to see if he would flinch, "Yeah."

He coyly sips his drink to stall and continues talking after, "Would you like to?"

A solid 7 out of 10, could be better. You laugh it off and let him die to know the answer.

"You know everyone is attracted to you, right?"

"No, not everyone, I believe," you play humble like how good girls play.

Shane takes another step closer and leans the side of his body against the pillar, "This is good. We should talk more," he says with a flirty smile.

"Well, I'm open to getting to know everyone," you tell him, making sure that you mean it generally, not specifically with him.

Shane runs his hand through his hair, sending it disheveled, even so, it makes him look attractive.

"I think you went in with Changbin so quick," Shane comments.

You nod and admit that it's true, "Yeah."

He then slyly smiles at you, "So, you know—"

Before you can finish listening to Shane talking, someone has his arms around you and without warning, carrying you with him.

Thankfully, you manage to not spill the drink you're holding once Changbin puts you down. He pats the small space left on the small sofa facing the sea view.

You sit with your legs hanging between his and his arm around you, this way you can put your full focus on him. You like seeing the glints in his brown eyes and your eyes flick to his small mouth with its pair of plush lips, looking so inviting as he licks them after taking a sip of your drink.

"What were you talking about?"

Changbin tries to sound cool about this but you sense a hint of jealousy in his words.

"Talking about you, actually," you honestly tell him.

"Yeah?"

He's wearing this tight white top that showcases his sculpted muscles and makes you unconsciously roam your hand on his clothed body.

You lose track of the conversation and innocently mutter, "You're so big..."

Changbin smiles at your words, looking thoroughly happy to hear them, and wants to hear more of it.

"What about it?"

You use your fingers to play with the opening of his top, teasing the skin there, "I like that you're big," you shamelessly admit.

It's impressive how he doesn't flinch as you stare him dead in the eyes. He remains calm with his hand playing with the thin strap of your top.

"Mmh?"

You lean in close and lower your voice as you say, "Makes me wonder if you're big somewhere else too."

Men like it when you're being straightforward like that and it seems to work on Changbin too.

-

YOU: He is so hot. It's going to be really hard to keep my hands to myself.

-

Everyone else can look as much as they want but they can only dream of getting it on with you.

Changbin feels like he won big to have you sitting close to him, looking damn attractive in your leather skirt and you're deeply staring into his eyes and your legs are slowly rubbing his inner thigh.

Oh, he knows what you're doing and he sure as hell knows that he's in trouble. The sexual chemistry is there and it's electrifying, awakening every cell in his body.

He looks away for a moment to take a grip on the situation and tries to restart a conversation. Then he looks at your face and how beautiful you are, your nose, your eyes... which reminds him to compliment them.

"You have beautiful eyes," he says.

You snort and put away your drink, "Your eyes are nowhere looking at my eyes," you point out.

That's right, he was looking at your lips when he said it, how they tantalize him.

You put your hand around his neck and gently massage the back of his head, "What are you thinking, mmh?"

There's no way of denying it so Changbin resorts to playing pensive, "Why don't you take a guess?

You're playing with the zipper on the front of his chest, "Uhm... food?" You wildly guess.

He laughs then nods, "That's a pretty good guess."

"No, wait," you take back your answer and take another guess, "it was tits."

You sure know how to amuse him and other than that, make him feel aroused with every little thing you do, including now, when you fix your hair from being blown by the wind.

Changbin has been thinking about it and knowing that someone has broken the rules making it easier for him to decide.

It's his turn to break the rules now but before that, he looks around, making sure the coast is clear, he sees that everyone else is gathered in the firepit.

Changbin looks back at you, then his hand reaches for your chin to bring your head close to his so he can kiss you. He likes how eager you are to receive his kiss and return it in such eagerness.

He holds you by the jaw, his thumb pulling at your lower lip to make you open your mouth for him so he can kiss you deeper, harder.

He wants to keep going and get drunk in your sweet, sweet kiss. He's tugging your lower lip between his teeth before pulling away.

Once he breaks the kiss, he looks at you at your parted mouth and your lips wet from the kisses, you're smiling when you open your eyes.

All of sudden, you throw your arms around him and mutter, "That was a good kiss."

He plants a kiss on your shoulder and another one on your neck, "I know."

You sit back on the sofa to get your drink and secretly look at where everyone is gathering, "Did they notice?" You ask him.

He throws his head back to look behind him and shakes his head, "I don't think so."

Breaking the rules is not as bad as he thought it would be, it was easy and strangely fun, he's sure it's coming from the rush of doing it without getting caught by anyone.

Changbin can only hope he doesn't get addicted to the rush.

-

CHANGBIN: So it happens, my first rule break. I knew it was wrong but I still wanted to do it so... [shrugs]

-

Despite the strong wind blowing your way, it doesn't help keeping you away from sweating.

You use the back of your hand to dab at the thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead but you feel like your make-up is fading away with the night.

Putting your empty glass away, you break away from Changbin's cuddle.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

You get up from the sofa and fix your skirt, "I'm going to fix my make-up quick," you answer.

He takes your hand, not letting you go, "You can do it later."

You smile at him, "I'll be quick," you say.

On the way to the dressing room, Rita joined you and it just happens that she seems to have the urge to tell you something.

"Now that Riley has given up on your man, she's going for Liam," Rita informs.

You sit on your chair and unzip your make-up pouch, "Really?"

Rita leans against the vanity table and crosses her arms in front of her, "So I was there with there with Liam then Riley joined in and she won't stop talking," she grumbles.

Riley does seem like the talkative type and you can imagine her butting in between Rita and Liam, talking non-stop.

"She keeps going on and on..." Rita complaints.

You feel bad for Rita but can't help but laugh. You gently powder your nose and make sure its

"Is Liam the only one or is there anyone else you fancy?" You ask out of curiosity, taking out a tube of lip gloss out of your pouch next.

Rita gets quiet and rolls her eyes as she thinks of an answer, "I was the first to call dibs on Liam," she innocently says.

You snicker because she makes it sound like it's a child's play, "What about Nico?"

"Nico? Hmm..." Rita has an adorable habit of pinching her cheek when she thinks.

You shift on your chair to look at her, "But you know, if you want to see how things go with Liam, then go for it," you suggest.

"I'm going to do that," she says while bobbing her head in agreement.

"Then get your cute butt there," You encourage her because you don't want her to overthink things when she should just do what she wants.

She squeals in response and takes a hairbrush from her table to fix her hair, "I believe Riley is still talking when I get there," she says with a dramatic eye roll.

As she turns around to leave, you land a gentle slap on her butt, "Go get your man!"

Now that Rita left the room, you can put on a fresh coat of lip gloss on your lips and take a quick look in the mirror only to find Changbin is checking you out in the doorway.

"You told me you'd be quick," he whines.

You laugh at how he's fussing like a toddler, "I was about to walk out—"

You get cut off as he comes crashing his body against yours, hugging you so tight with his hands feeling your clothed body.

It's obvious that he's horny. You hold him back and let him bury his head in your neck, "We're going back out there or stay here?"

Changbin doesn't say anything but looks at you, his eyes are looking at your lips and filled with so much want. You kind of have guessed that he would be coming back for more because honestly, one kiss is never enough.

"You can throw me onto the table if you want," you jokingly say with a flirty smile on.

With smoldering eyes and a smirk on his face, he lifts you by the waist to sit you on the table, that way he can be at the same eye level with you.

You loop your hands around his neck and pull him close, "And now we can kiss," you whisper with your face only inches away from him.

And just like that, he caves in and kisses you. This time his kiss has intensity to it and for a moment, you feel like he's devouring you whole which is turning you on.

Changbin slides his hand down your leg and lifts it, wrapping it around his waist to close the gap between your bodies.

His other hand is angling your head slightly to the side just so he can kiss deeper, skillfully using his tongue to make you feel the slightest bit lightheaded.

A moan slips out of your mouth as he squeezes the back of your thigh. You feel faint not only because it's one of the sensitive parts of your body but also because of how close his hand is to where you want him the most.

Then the sound of heels clicking against the floor shatters the tension in the room and the two of you abruptly stop kissing.

Your head turns in the direction of the doorway and see Sabine grinning at both of you.

 "I caught you rulebreaking!" She says in a sing-song voice.

"Shit!" Changbin quietly mutters as he looks away from her.

Sabine walks to her closet, "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone!" She says while switching the shoes she's wearing with sandals.

After she leaves the room, Changbin pulls you into a hug and nuzzles his head in your neck.

You jokingly pull his head close, "Okay, now, come back."

He breaks into laughter and kisses you on the cheek to compensate for not being able to give you what you want.

It's already hard to get him to rulebreak and it would take a long time for him to fall into the temptations again.

-

YOU: [Snickers] I don't know what's wrong with us. I don't know why we're doing it again [laughs]

-

Changbin jumps onto his bed, feeling so tired but inside, he's feeling euphoric.

"What's going on, big boy?" Nico asks from the next bed.

Changbin pretends to look exhausted and stretches his arms out, "I didn't do much tonight," he lies.

He knows he can't be the only one breaking the rules tonight but it's safe for him to keep a calm expression to avoid suspicion.

When he looks at the boys, he notices the smugness on their faces and they probably can see it on him too. For now, he saves the worries about the money for tomorrow.

Changbin stops thinking altogether when you climb onto the bed, wearing a white tank top and tight shorts. If only he was alone with you... oh, he's scared to even try to imagine it.

You sit cross-legged on the bed facing him, looking so beautiful even with a bare face, "Isn't it hot to sleep with a t-shirt on?"

"You can just tell me if you want me to sleep naked," he says with a mischievous smile.

"You know, I always sleep naked," you share then sips water from your tumbler.

He puts his hand on your knee "Then why aren't you?"

You put on a daring glare at him, "Do you want me to? Cause I would," you say.

If there's anything he learned from being around for these past two days is that he shouldn't challenge you because, in the end, he'll end up losing to you.

When the lights are out, he puts his arm out so you can rest your head on it but instead of that, you overlap his body with yours.

"I'm not sleepy yet," you whisper into his ear.

"Anything you want to do?" He asks and regrets it the second after he says it. He shouldn't give you ideas or worse is letting himself open to your ideas.

"A lot," you answer with a hot kiss on his neck.

Changbin feels threatened as you start placing kisses around his face, his heart skips when you get too close to his lips but he sulks when you don't do it.

You have your hand slipped under his t-shirt, splaying it on his stomach and feeling his skin there. You lean in close, rubbing your nose against his and teasing his lips with the warm breath you let out of your parted mouth.

"Want to rule break again?" You ask with your thumb swiping his lower lip.

Oh, Changbin is being put in a predicament once again. You best believe that he wants to do and will do whatever it is you want because that's what he wants too.

However, he promised himself that he wouldn't do another rule break for the rest of the night.

He hates to say no to you so he tries to lay it as gently as he can so he softly caresses your head, then takes the hand holding his face to kiss the inside of your hand.

"That's enough of a rule break for today," he murmurs with an apologetic smile.

Even in the dark, he can see you softly smile at him and nod, "Okay."

It's not about the compliance, you can be a little wayward to him but Changbin likes that you know when to hold back. Yes, he takes pride in being dominant but that doesn't mean he can force you to do what he says, you are your own person after all.

You sweetly kiss him on the cheek and mutter, "Goodnight, Changbin."

He plants a kiss on your jaw in return and mutters back, "Goodnight, angel."

For someone who has known him for a couple of days, you understand him well and that says something.

-

CHANGBIN: A kiss with her is always too good but it's bad because it's making me hornier [chuckles]

-

The day starts with Lana's morning greeting.

For a second, you thought Lana was about to announce the rule breaks right after everyone woke up and that would be so cruel of her but you're glad she didn't.

Changbin nuzzles his nose against your neck before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. You open your eyes and see him smiling at you.

"How was your sleep?" You croak, putting your hand under his t-shirt to feel the skin on his back.

He kisses you on the arm and softly sighs, "I got bit by mosquitoes last night."

"That was me. Sorry," you joke.

That amuses him so much, that he laughs with his head buried in your neck and playfully biting at your shoulder.

When he stops, you look at him and say, "I'm not sorry actually."

With freshly showered hair, you're doing your make-up with Rita while Niamh is also dressing the other part of the room. You look at Rita whose hair is flying around her head as she's drying it.

"So, how did it go?"

Rita turns off her hairdryer, "What?"

"With Liam last night?"

"I don't know. He's been very vague about it," Rita answers, sounding as confused as her answer.

You put down your eyebrow pencil and look at her, "He probably wants to keep his options open for—"

The melodic chime coming from the cone in the corner of the room interrupted you from talking and your heart starts to sink, knowing that you committed a couple of rule breaks yesterday.

"Hello, girls!" Lana greets.

Niamh pops her head from behind the room where everyone is using to change their clothes.

"Hey, Lana..." you answer with sheer enthusiasm.

"Please gather everyone in the cabana," she orders.

You exchange a horrified look with Rita and grimace at the horror looming over you the second you hear Lana's voice.

"Sure, babe," Rita is replying to her this time.

You know exactly what's going to happen in the cabana and it's none other than the time to get publicly shamed by a talking cone.

There's only one seat left on the small wooden sofa at one side of the room and you sit there, having no one there to help you calm down.

"Okay, guys, who kissed who?" Nico asks everyone.

Niamh couldn't be faster responding to it, "I didn't kiss anyone," she says.

"Me too," Rita says.

As if it would help take everyone's suspicion off you, you're avoiding their eyes and trying to act calm. You are calm until Sabine places her hand on your knee.

"Babe? Did you kiss?"

That's so sly of her to ask you that when she walked in on you and Changbin kissing in the dressing room. You scrunch your nose and decide to lie, "Nah, I didn't."

Sabine slyly smiles at your answer and lets it go as the cone chimes in the middle of the table.

-

YOU: I know for sure that Changbin and I kissed twice but I'm not saying a word. I'm hoping Lana didn't see [snorts]

-

"Hello, everyone!"

Changbin tries to remain calm but he can't quite control his body, his heart is racing and his palms are starting to sweat. He can only hope that he's putting on a good poker face.

"What's happening, Lana?" Shane asks from the other end of the sofa.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and were given rules to adhere to."

Lana is an artificial intelligence but Changbin can hear the displease in her voice and she sounds upset.

"This is tense," Nico says with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah..." Oliver says.

"Despite this, your flagrant disregard for the rules has resulted in a deduction of..."

Changbin knows he takes part in that deduction and he can feel the guilt starting to seep into his mind.

"$15,000."

Everyone collectively gasps at the announcement of how much money has been lost from the prize fund and it's only the third day now.

But this also means that he's not the only one screwed up last night.

"That's the most expensive 25 hours I've ever lived," Oliver says as if he didn't spend some of that money.

"You guys are blowing it," Niamh says with a disappointed look on her face, genuinely pissed at losing money.

"In total, there were five rule breaks," Lana informs.

"Five?" Nico says with a shocked face.

"Anyone want to admit to anything?" Rita says.

Changbin glances at you and he sees that you're also looking at him, exchanging unspoken words through the eyes.

Staying silent is not an option for him, he knows better that he has to own up to his mistakes.

"Changbin and I kissed last night," you get ahead of him.

He feels less nervous to talk now that those words are out, "Yeah, we kissed."

"We had a moment and it was perfect," you add, explaining the things that led to the kiss.

"Just one kiss?" Niamh asks.

It's like something caught in your throat and you abruptly stop talking, it's time for Changbin to take over.

"No, we uh... we kissed again in the dressing room," Changbin admits.

He's expecting shouting or yelling coming at him but they're quiet, he can only hear a few deep sighs.

"Well, there's three more we need to account for," Rita says, leaning back on the sofa and crossing her arms together.

"Sabine?" You call her name loud enough for everyone to hear even though she's sitting next to you.

"What?" Sabine plays dumb.

"We knew about your kiss at the beach," Rita says to her.

Niamh scoots forward on her seat and looks at Sabine, "Is that it?"

Sabine looks at Oliver and everyone knows right away they had more than one kiss.

"Yeah, okay, we kissed twice," Oliver finally confesses with an unapologetic grin on his face.

Oliver's confession is also greeted by more sighs and Changbin feels a lot better now that he's not the only one being scrutinized at the moment.

"One more to go now," Nico mutters, scanning everyone's faces to spot the guilty ones.

"Honesty is the best policy, you guys!" Niamh warns.

Everyone wouldn't let it go until the last culprit comes forward and Changbin just wants to get this over with.

A moment passed in silence until Riley pointed at someone, "I kissed Liam."

"Look at you sitting there all quiet," Changbin mutters at Liam who happens to sit two seats away from him.

Ironic that he was the one who warned everyone to speak out immediately when they messed up yet he's the last one to do it.

"I felt a little something for Riley so I don't regret it," Liam explains.

He notices that you're exchanging looks with Rita as she seems to be upset upon hearing what Liam uttered to everyone.

"The prize fund now stands at $185,000," Lana updates before signing off.

Changbin does the math in his head and is slightly shocked to find out how much he spent but at that moment, last night, the kisses felt worth more than that.

However, everything changes now after hearing how much it costs.

-

CHANGBIN: $15,000... that's a lot. I'm feeling guilty now.

-

When Changbin hears that there's going to be a workshop, he hopes it's something that will help him control his urges.

The moment he gets told that he has to pair up with you, he doubts that it would help him much.

"Hello, I'm Billy," The instructor introduces himself, "I'm a sex expert."

"Whoo!" Oliver excitedly reacts.

"How are you all doing?" Billy asks.

"Good!" Everyone answers in unison, sitting on their respective mats for the workshop.

"Today's workshop is about ways you can connect with somebody without sex," Billy announces the lesson for the workshop.

"Breath is a huge thing so when you feel sexual tension, step away and go do your breathing, it'll help you profoundly."

Changbin feels skeptical at first but he knows now that it's possible to keep his impulses in control.

Billy then turns over a picture showing a cuddling position and everyone should do it with their partner. You crawl over to him and sit cross-legged on the space between his legs.

It takes him a moment to study the picture, he puts his arms around you and you intertwine them together in front of you.

"Hand over your heart," Billy reminds him.

He places his clasped hand on your heart and he accidentally brushes your breast in the process.

You lowly giggle in response and look over your shoulder at him, "Over my heart, not my tits."

He presses his mouth close to your ear, "It happens that your tit is close to your heart," he playfully replies.

"Breathe..." Billy instructed as he's he's pacing back and forth observing everyone, "Connect with them on a deeper level."

Changbin does what he said and closes his eyes, breathing in and out, eventually syncing your breathing together. It feels nice, he feels relaxed.

Billy walks up to Sabine and Oliver, "How do you feel in that position?"

"Damn good," Oliver shamelessly answers, making Sabine laughs in embarrassment.

Billy walks back to the front and flips a new picture on the easel, "It's going to get a little bit intimate..."

He then reveals the next position for everyone to see, he's grinning as he says, "I think you guys can handle it."

Changbin applies the lesson right away, inhaling air and exhaling it as he sits on the mat.

Okay, it's getting hard to try not to think about sex when you're sitting on his lap and your legs wrapped around his waist.

"Don't I look good on top of you?" You ask with a sly smile on your face.

He takes a deep breath and puts his hands on each side of your waist, "Yeah," he answers, can't stop his brain from imagining it.

It doesn't get any easier with the way you're looking deep into his eyes and Changbin reckons he should look away.

He pulls you close and rests his head against your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat helping him to calm down.

"How are you guys doing?" Billy asks him.

"We're doing good," you answer for both of you.

After he leaves, you look back at him and put your hands around his neck, "Good, right?"

Changbin bets that you know how good it is for him as you sit right on his crotch. The sexual tension is getting unbearable and breathing doesn't help him as much as it did before.

Thankfully, Billy ends the workshop before it gets dangerous.

"Thank you, all of you beautiful people and I appreciate you for being present with me," he concludes.

Everyone is giving him a round of applause as a token of gratitude for his lesson.

-

CHANGBIN: It's clear that we have a strong sexual chemistry but I also sense that there's something genuine there.

-

It's unclear whether Changbin is up to doing something naughty tonight.

Nevertheless, you're putting on a tight dress and a luscious coat of lipstick, you know he can't resist you when you look this good.

Changbin is talking to Nico when you come and put his arm around you, wanting to get his attention. Successfully having him for yourself, you corner him and take him to sit together on the lounger.

"You look good tonight," you compliment, feeling his pecs through his black shirt.

He reacts with a mix of shy and cocky smiles, you don't know how he does that but it looks good on him.

You bring your mouth close to his ear and murmur, "You look so delicious."

Changbin is oddly quiet tonight and you guess you just need to warm him up, showering him with compliments and talking about random things.

"I only noticed it now that you have a dimple," you say.

Changbin smiles again for you to showcase it and you use your finger to poke the dimple on his cheek.

"Your cheek is squishy too," you playfully poking at it while giggling.

"I think my right cheek is more squishy," he disagrees with you, poking his other cheek with his index finger.

He looks so cute doing it and out of nowhere, you feel like biting at his cheek and doing it.

"Why did you do that?"

"Nom nom nom nom," you tease him instead of answering.

Changbin pulls you close and gently bites at your arm to get back at you, sending you laughing uncontrollably.

Now that he's warming up and relaxed, it's time to find out if he plans to do something about the night. You rest your hand on his chest, fiddling with the button of his shirt as you talk.

"What are we going to do tonight, mmh?"

He only smiles at you with his hand caressing your back.

You press your head close to his and lower your voice as you say, "How about you finger me in secret?"

He bursts into laughter and pulls you closer, holding you with his arms around you, but it feels more like he's trying to restrain you.

"We're going to be good tonight," he tells you.

The message is well-received.

You fully understand if he doesn't want to rulebreak tonight and you're alright with it, you don't want to pressure him to do something he doesn't want.

You press a kiss on his cheek and then rest your head on his chest, "Yeah, sure, we can be good."

Also, perhaps he needs a little breather too.

-

YOU: He doesn't want to rulebreak tonight but who knows about tomorrow? [Raises eyebrow]

-

Just like Billy said, Changbin get away and do his breathing as the sexual tension is only rising when he's with you.

Most of everyone is gathering in the cabana so he goes there, trying to get his mind distracted by talking to other people than you.

Nico is sipping his drink and silently watching Sabine and Oliver canoodling by the firepit.

"I don't know if Sabine were like flirty with anybody but I kind of want to make Ollie cry," he says to him.

Changbin feels like getting another drink but he stays seated for the drama.

"Do it, man!" He encourages him.

The next thing he knows, the night is getting late and it's time to turn in for the night.

He manages to not rule break today as he planned but it doesn't feel like an achievement at all, if anything, he feels like shit for saying no to kissing you. Now, he has the image of your eyes dimmed when he told you he doesn't want to rulebreak tonight replaying in the back of his head.

It's not dramatic of him to feel ecstatic to see you get on the bed, he barely saw you after you both cuddled on the lounger earlier.

"Where have you been, baby?" He asks you.

You dive right into his arms and rest your head on his chest, "Talking with Rita," you mumble your answer.

He notices that you sound exhausted, "Tired?"

You turn your head to look at him and nod.

The moment the lights turn off, you get off of him to sleep on your side of the bed.

"Goodnight, fam!" Liam says to everyone in the dark.

"Night," a few replying to him.

Changbin doesn't want to assume things but he's scared that the reason why you feel a little distant is because he said no to rulebreak with you.

Then you're shifting on the bed and he sees you trying to take your top off under the duvet, you notice him watching.

"It's hot," you mutter at him, putting your top on the bedside table before laying on your side with your back facing him.

And he can see what you're trying to do to him.

Changbin scoots closer until his chest meets your back, he then traces the curve of your body with his hand, only using his fingertips to touch you.

He feels nothing but miles and miles of silky soft skin.

"Are you ticklish?" He asks, dropping his voice low and sultry.

"No," you answer.

That only encourages him to touch you more, exploring your body while trying to avoid it becoming something sexual. He presses his mouth on the back of your shoulder and softly inhales your scent while his hand caresses your abdomen with his knuckle.

With the way your body slightly shaking, he knows you're holding in your laughter.

"Tickles, mmh?"

"Not really."

Changbin lowers his hand down your waist and keeps going until his hand lands on the softness of the back of your thigh, caressing it with his knuckle.

"How about now?"

You shake your head.

He has no other option but to squeeze the flesh and you jolt on the bed. You take his hand out of the duvet and turn your head to scold him.

Before you can do that, he captures your lips in his. He knows he catches you off guard but you manage to return his kiss.

Changbin pulls away to have you pinned under him before leaning in and kissing you again. You moan as he puts his whole weight on you, sending your breasts squashed between your chests.

He's aware that everyone else in the room can see it but something about doing it in secret makes it inexplicably kinky.

-

CHANGBIN: If I'm being honest... I want to eat her all up [smirks]

-

Another day means another session of listening to a talking cone.

Changbin is prepared to face everyone when he comes clean about what he's done with you last night. It's the only rule break he did yesterday and he knows it's not progress but he feels good knowing that he showed a little more restraint than the last time.

Other than that, he's sitting next to you now so he feels reassured, knowing that you have his back.

The cone chimes at the same time he takes your hand and holds it.

"Hello, everyone!"

Everyone gets tensed as soon as Lana talks even though she hasn't said anything but her usual greeting.

"What's up, babes?" Rita replies to her, sounding chipper than usual.

"The rules of my retreat have been broken," She announces.

Here it goes, Changbin says in his head. He takes a deep breath and squeezes at your hand.

"Is there anybody who wants to come clean?"

Changbin clears his throat before speaking, "I want everyone to know that it was me who started it," he begins, taking full responsibility for what he's done.

"It was me, I kissed her last night."

His confession is yet again getting answered by low groans and sighs, he understands that he let them down but... oh, well.

"The kiss has cost the group $3,000."

There goes another $3,000 down the drain and Changbin admits he did wrong for making the same mistake.

"Anyone else wants to fess up?" Niamh asks.

The grin on Oliver's face is unmissable and that means he did something, most likely a bad thing.

"Did you two kiss again?" Liam asks him, pressuring them to talk with laser in his eyes.

Oliver rubs his chin while Sabine can only look at him, waiting for him to speak for both of them. He deeply sighs, then nods, "Yeah, we did."

"Just once?"

Oliver nods again, "Just once, I swear."

Lana confirms by announcing another $3,000 has been deducted from the prize fund.

Changbin feels a lot lighter now after telling the truth and accepting the truth that a chunk of money is gone because of him but it's too early for him to let out a sigh of relief yet.

"They were not the only ones to break the rules," Lana informs.

"My God?" Sabine scoffs.

Changbin is on the hunt for the culprit, he scans for any guilty faces sitting on the sofa and not realizing that you've been fidgeting next to him.

He turns his head at you and wonders if...

You uneasily look at him, then say, "It was me."

-

CHANGBIN: What the fuck is going on?

-

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#fic recs

[write143]

This was beautiful, I'm sobbing...

Thank you so much for sharing all your writing!!

Begged & Borrowed

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader

W/c: 30.2k

Warnings: infidelity, drinking, smoking, use of pet names, unprotected sex, breast/nipple play, dry humping, clitoral stimulation

Synopsis: A turn of events causes you and your longtime best friend Minho to confront your true feelings for each other- except you’re already getting married to somebody else.

[this work was based off a request from “🌷” anon - thank you for requesting!]

18+. Mdni!

•

For as long as Minho has remembered, he’s been in a constant state of grieving. But no one’s passed, nor is there any reason to believe something should happen. Nonetheless, the feeling remains, a cruel reminder of the phenomenon when it hits him suddenly, eating away at his thoughts and boring into his flesh.

Like a seed planted deep in his body, one that suddenly sprouted, and won’t stop growing, and growing. And in his mind, this grieving takes its form in viridian hues of ivy, thin stringy stems that wrap around his bones and constrict him to a life lived within the cage of his own body. Rubbery leaves of green with venules that mirror his own veins and seem to mock him as they replace what’s left of him. And Minho can do nothing except coexist with this heavy sense of grieving, let the ivy strangle him in its unsuspecting embrace and rob him of his last breaths. He’s still in there, trapped somewhere, breathing in labored breaths and stiff at the limbs. But he can’t breathe, and he fears one day this grieving is going to kill him.

*

Minho exhales deeply, balancing a small cardboard box which houses a white cylindrical cake in his hands, his eyes darting nervously over the crowd inside. There seem to be 20, maybe 30 people, already acquainted with the space, chatting amongst themselves with glasses of champagne in hand. He’s tried your cell phone twice, to no avail- of course he knows you’re probably making your rounds, chatting with guests and double checking the hors d’oeuvres are to your liking. But he tries one more time just in case, bringing the phone up to his ear and letting it ring once, twice, three times- voicemail.

There’s no way around this but to go inside and socialize for the next hour, Minho’s personal idea of hell on earth. He grips the box a little firmer with one hand, using the other to slip his cell phone back into his pocket and make sure he can access it easily, just in case he needs to look busy. And with one more deep sigh, he begins the journey inside, mentally preparing to pretend as though he cares about any of this.

The venue interior is spacious, and admittedly a breathtaking view at this proximity, much to Minho’s stubborn dismay. Round white tables line the wooden floors, wrapped in velvety cream tablecloths and glowing in the dim lightning of tea candles. Similar cream-colored lanterns line the ceilings in neat rows, parallel to the strings of bohemian bulb lights that serve more as decoration than to actually brighten the place. And by the marble wall fountain at the back of the open space, there’s you, all dressed up and chatting enthusiastically with a group of women. Minho pauses for a moment, not yet proceeding, as he takes in the sight of your elegant appearance. Your figure is hugged delicately by a slim-fitting dress, a pair of strappy heels complementing the loose curls and simple makeup you sport. And he sighs again, feeling as though this is all going to be in vain the second he approaches you.

Yet he doesn’t even have to- you spot him from across the room first, whispering something in another woman’s ear before making your way toward him, an enchanted smile on your face and such purpose in your step as you near him. Minho’s heart quickens in his chest the way it always does when he’s around you, though his demeanor seems to relax fully once you’re in front of him, your arms extending for a hug as he shoots you a saccharine smile and pulls you into his embrace.

“You made it!” You exclaim enthusiastically, your arms wrapping around the broad shoulders he flaunts under his white collared button-up. He smells familiar, a comforting mix between fabric softener and his musky cologne, and it brings you right back to your days spent alongside him in college, catching late-night movies together and hitting up all your favorite fast food joints.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Minho replies sweetly. He chuckles a little as he speaks, lost in the striking glow of your eyes at this proximity, your long eyelashes fluttering as you smile in response and nod.

“Thank god you’re here,” you voice, glancing around the room inconspicuously. “I think Jung’s friends have had one too many shots. And I asked for pink flowers on the centerpieces- do these look pink to you?”

You gesture to the bouquets of very magenta floral arrangements, shaking your head as Minho laughs in response.

“Hey, remember this is just to celebrate everything being finalized. You can get nit-picky when the wedding rolls around- for now, let’s just enjoy the magenta flowers.”

You smile up at him, always endeared at the way Minho finds the good in everything. He has a special way of taking your fears or reservations and making them seem so insignificant in contrast to the world around you. And he’s been that way for as long as you can remember, quick to fix things and stay by your side through the hardships whenever they crept up on you.

Like the time your car got impounded and he walked nearly two hours with you to get it back because neither of you could afford a taxi. Or the time your holiday office party was all but sleep-inducing, and he didn’t hesitate to drop what he was doing to take you out for burgers, instead.

And of course, being by your side throughout this very burdening wedding process. Minho’s the first person who got the news of the engagement when it happened, nearly shattering the dish he washed during a session of old cartoon reruns and fast food while you were out at dinner with Jung. And it was the last thing he’d expected, too, remembering how the week prior was spent lending a kindly ear to you as you ranted about Jung’s stubbornness and his poor temperament.

“Married?” He’d spoken into the phone, like the proposition of getting an engagement ring implied literally anything else.

And when you saw him again an entire week later, the marquis diamond hugged by delicate prongs and a sterling silver band around your fourth finger confirmed the words, as if your excitement over the phone hadn’t done so already. At first Minho was angry, declining invitations to hang out and forcing himself to stay asleep so as not to feel the sheer pain and regret that came with the news. What does she even see in him? He’d asked himself a dozen times a minute, mapping out the factors you complained about to him and weighing them against the likelihood that you’d actually follow through with this wedding.

He’s messy. He doesn’t like spending money on fancy dinners, so sometimes we’ll only do sides. My parents think he’s a little arrogant and when he’s with his friends, it’s like I don’t exist.

All signs point to negative. There’s no way you’d actually follow through with marrying Jung- at least not if it’s up to you. Maybe you had stars in your eyes, couldn’t say no to the sparkly ring and had thought back to the first date when he first got down on one knee. That has to be why you said yes.

The prospect of marrying him contractually is a headache when Minho thinks about it- and that’s not even inclusive of the idea that comes with spending the rest of your life cooped up in a house with him, with children and in-laws. It would mean years of him talking back to you, undermining you and rubbing his superiority complex in your face. Minho isn’t sure he could stick around for a lifetime of that.

At least he wasn’t sure before- and now, with just two months out till the wedding, Minho is panicking. It feels like some race against time to knock an ounce of sense into you, but the stars in your eyes are still there when he catches you glancing at your ring, or moved by Jung’s actions that scream the bare minimum.

“Did you see the champagne glasses? They’re iridescent! Jung got them just for tonight.”

Maybe that’s what you see in him. His noble trait of picking iridescent champagne glasses over clear ones.

“Cool,” Minho responds, giving you a small nod.

“What’s in the box?” You ask, gesturing to the small white box in Minho’s hands still.

“Oh, just a little something,” Minho replies a little softly, watching as you slowly lift the thin cardboard lid and peer inside. And the smile that grows on your face makes everything worth it again.

“From our favorite bakery? Minho! That place is so expensive, you shouldn’t have!”

“It’s a special evening,” Minho replies with a smile, watching as you admire the intricate icing display for a moment. White fondant ribbons and candy pearls line the frosted surface which enreathes decadent layers of chocolate- all your favorites. As Minho begins to close the box, he’s rudely interrupted by a finger prodding itself into the dessert, swiping across the frosting and moving the carefully placed cake toppers into complete disarray.

“Is this chocolate?” A voice asks from behind Minho, coming forward to sprawl an arm over your shoulders and lick the frosting off his finger. “Damn, that’s good!”

And Minho can practically feel every ounce of hope in his body dissipate as he watches you giggle enthusiastically.

“Hi, Jung,” Minho says flatly, observing your destroyed cake briefly before shutting the box again.

“What’s up, man? Thanks for the cake. Hey, wedding’s in two months- I hope you have your tux ready!”

Minho responds with a thin-lipped smile, not saying anything as Jung laughs loud enough to fill the awkward silence amongst the three of you.

“What do you say we go cut some real cake?” Jung asks, turning to face you as his grip around your shoulders tightens.

You smile back at him, turning to Minho and cocking your head toward the table by the wall fountain.

“You wanna join? We got a variety of pastries, too. There’s those little cream puffs you like, and macarons from the French bakery.”

Minho extends his arms, passing the box of cake to you and giving you both a small bow.

“I actually just stopped by to gift you the cake. I have a work thing really early tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving?” You question, a small pout on your face as Jung scans the room around you, desperate to ditch the two of you, but also stubborn about maintaining his dominance in front of Minho.

“We’ll catch up soon,” Minho replies, trying his best to convey a smile that will make it seem like nothing’s bothersome.

“Okay, okay,” you respond, separating from Jung’s hold on you and pulling Minho in for another hug.

“Thanks for the cake, anyway. I’m still glad you stopped by.”

“Of course,” Minho says, averting his gaze from Jung. “And congrats on finally getting all the wedding plans finalized. That’s a really big deal.”

“She’ll be hitched in two months!” Jung chimes in loudly from behind you. “And then we’ll be on an island celebrating married life!”

Minho just nods at him, shooting him the same thin-lipped smile and bowing to both of you.

“Catch you later,” he says, finally pivoting to exit the way he entered. And he can still hear Jung’s obnoxious laughter from halfway across the room.

*

Fridays were always your designated days with Minho. In college, they meant movie nights and greasy takeout food. Post-graduation, they involved bars and gossiping about your entry level positions and your bosses. And after Jung came into the picture, they quickly became every other Friday, which soon turned to Sunday brunch on a monthly basis, which then transitioned to catching up over the phone or in brief passing. Jung made sure you were always busy doing something with him, his arm slung possessively around your shoulders and speaking far too loudly about your relationship for the whole world to hear.

Minho began to ditch the Friday group dates when Jung started inquiring about his own relationship status, getting drunk off one-too-many jägermeisters and slurring questions and demands about when he’d finally bring a girl to the function. And Minho never had the heart to tell you why he stopped showing- he simply conjured intricate excuses for every instance you invited him out.

I have a headache. I have an early day tomorrow. The cats are lonely these days.

Of course, perhaps Jung could see right through him into the green leaves of ivy that enwreathed his bones and swallowed him whole with this grieving. Grieving for you, grieving for himself, grieving for this life he knew was bound to come to a close the minute Jung made his move. Which Jung did, practically setting the relationship in stone so that Minho would now be subject to a lifetime of his offensive slurred speeches and unsettling presence. And although the grieving grew heavier after the engagement, it’s always been there, perhaps even longer than Jung’s even been in the picture.

“Jung said no male strippers at the bachelorette party, which is a bummer if you ask me. But we are having an open bar, so I’ll be too drunk to care about naked men anyway.”

Minho chuckles softly, bringing the straw in his iced coffee up to his lips and taking a sip from the corner of his mouth.

“But he’s having strippers at his bachelor party, isn’t he?”

You shrug casually, brushing off the question as you take a sip of your coffee, too.

“I don’t really care, either way. I mean we’ll be getting married regardless, so he can look at whoever he wants. I just need him to show up in a tux on the day of, and stand at the end of the aisle crying when I come to meet him.”

Minho doesn’t reply, a string of questions circling his mind, which he chooses not to ask in order to maintain the peaceful silence that now falls over you both. It’s one of the only days this month you two have been able to get some time alone, although it did require Minho taking off work early and you lying to Jung about your whereabouts. You find yourselves at the coffee shop you’ve been meeting at since your college days, an iced americano in Minho’s grasp and a latte in yours.

As Minho takes in his surroundings, everything feels vastly different than it used to- the distance between you two feels much greater, like there are miles separating the beverages you consume at this proximity to each other. The baristas don’t shoot you curious looks like they used to when they were certain you two were an item. And the shiny ring on your finger makes an appearance every sip you take, glistening under the beams of sun that dance through the windows and fall over your enthusiastic figure.

“What are you up to this weekend?” You ask finally, meeting his shy gaze as he taps his fingers on the wooden surface of the table.

Minho shrugs, toying with the lobe of his ear as he thinks of a random commitment to voice back to you.

“Oh, you know,” he stutters. “Moving stuff.”

And he’s completely unsure, himself, of what the words imply as they escape his lips.

“Moving stuff? To where? Where are you moving?”

“I’m not moving,” he emphasizes. “Just… moving stuff. Things. I want to rearrange some picture frames. And maybe reorganize my bookshelf.”

You sigh in response, a small smile tugging at your lips as Minho does his best to maintain the bogus narrative.

“Minho, you never leave the house anymore. Why don’t you go out with Jung or something? He’s doing a golf thing with some of-”

“No, thank you,” he interrupts quickly. “I’m not a golfer.”

And you sigh again, cocking your head at him.

“Okay, mister ‘moving stuff.’ Will you at least call me when you’re done moving your stuff and your things?”

“I’ll call you,” Minho reaffirms.

“I mean it. I’m gonna call you when I get home from the party and you better not be asleep on the couch again.”

“I promise to answer,” he echoes.

You smile at him again, and Minho mirrors the action with a small smile of his own, his skewed teeth exposing from behind his plump lips as he grins sheepishly.

“Moving stuff,” you repeat, mocking his excuse.

“Moving stuff and things,” he emphasizes, chuckling lightly across from you.

*

Bachelorette parties are supposed to be one of two things: freeing, and cathartic. Luckily for you, yours checks both boxes, the two-day retreat to a luxury hotel in the city providing ample time to relax, and the shots you down at the open bar in your venue fulfilling the cathartic part of it. Your girlfriends shower you in presents, ranging from expensive dining sets and clothes, to humorous sex toys for you and Jung to try on your honeymoon. Even the bartenders join in on your two nights of dancing, parading your event with handmade signs and getting everyone in the bar to sing to you. And for the first time since the stress-inducing year of planning has begun, you feel excited, ready for your new life as a bride alongside Jung.

Husband and wife have a nice ring to it, you think to yourself, as you kick off your shoes and lie back on the thick white duvet of the hotel bed. And though you’re still a little tipsy, you keep your promise, selecting Minho’s contact in your phone and giving him a ring. The phone rings once, twice and then three times, before you conclude he’s definitely fallen asleep on the couch again, probably while moving around his stuff and his things. But you’re proven wrong on the fourth ring, a gentle click echoing in your ears as you hear him press the phone to his ear and speak in a tired voice.

“Hello?”

“You’re asleep on the couch, aren’t you?”

“…no,” he responds, after a short pause.

“You’re so predictable,” you chuckle back at him, shaking your head as you sigh into the phone.

“How was the bachelorette party?” He inquires, sitting up on the couch he definitely wasn’t asleep on, to speak a little clearer into the receiver.

“It was amazing,” you reply with a dreamy sigh. “We did karaoke, and danced and even the bartenders were wishing me good luck. It was like something from college.”

“I’m glad,” Minho responds, nervously picking at the hem of his ratty old t-shirt.

“I’m a little drunk,” you say with a gentle laugh. “But I couldn’t help but wish you were there. The girls are great, of course, but I feel like bars were our thing.”

Minho blinks nervously a few times, pondering your words and keeping his gaze locked on the array of neatly-placed picture frames on the wall across him.

“Yeah,” he settles on replying, his breath hitching in the back of his throat.

“Do you miss me?” You query, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. And Minho can’t comprehend what’s got you acting like this, flirting with him in the phone line while Jung isn’t around.

“I do,” he responds after a brief pause.

“I’m serious, Minho. As your best friend, I’d hope that you miss me sometimes.”

There it is- the clarification is enough for him to exhale the deep breath he’s been holding in all this time.

“Yeah,” he says again. “I miss you, as a friend. And I’m glad the night was enjoyable.”

“You hate bars,” you say to him. “But you used to let me drag you out to them. I miss you.”

And he nods on the other end, repressing the real emotions that eat away at him like, you might see them over the phone if he feels too deeply.

“I miss you, too. Get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say sarcastically. “Goodnight. Thanks for answering.”

“Sure thing,” Minho replies before ending the call. And the room is eerily quiet now that he’s awake, the clock on the living room wall ticking with the passing seconds, as the ivy in his chest constricts a little tighter now.

*

Jung’s bachelor party is nothing short of insufferable. It’s loud, it’s rowdy, and it’s neither relaxing nor cathartic. Unless you define the two as getting lap dances in a smoke-filled limousine driving down the freeway a million miles a minute.

Minho sits quietly on one side, refusing every advance from the female strippers as they flaunt their beautifully-sculpted breasts in his face and dance to the loud rap music. He pretends to use his phone, having no service in this part of town, and yet still resorting to switching frantically between the compass feature and the weather app. And then he tips each stripper a generous amount, apologizing to them profusely as he gets off at the first stop and orders a cab. Where exactly the limousine is taking them, he doesn’t even care to know. Jung questions no part of it, not even having wanted to invite Minho in the first place. And while Minho waits for his taxi, he calls you, frantically wishing he could remind you Jung’s possibly the worst person you could have chosen to marry.

“Hi Minho,” you speak into the phone, shuffling about on your end as you tend to some household work. “I thought you didn’t get reception wherever you were going?”

“I found a way,” he responds, lying through his teeth.

You narrow your eyes, pausing your work to listen in to the phone call a little more closely.

“Minho, did you… leave?” You question, taking note of the way there’s not a sound in the background of the call- not Jung’s booming laughter, nor any music of any kind.

“No,” he says quickly, and you let out a deep sigh.

“Now you’re lying,” you remark.

“I’m not-”

“You’re talking in short responses, and I can’t see you but I know you’re doing that blinking thing. Why would you leave?”

Unfortunately for Minho, you know him like the back of your hand, always quick to clock when he’s lying to you through his nervous habits. The same habits you’ve studied since your days together in college, and ones he’s never been able to stop doing no matter how hard he tries. Minho lets out a deep sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

“Look, it’s just not my scene, okay? I’m still going to the wedding, it’s not like ditching a bachelor party is going to ruin your marriage.”

You shake your head and pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

“What am I going to do with you? Why are you so opposed to just bonding with him?”

“I’m not!” Minho exclaims. “He wanted to go swimming. I can’t swim.”

Another lie.

“Look,” you begin. Would you just come over if you’re not going? We can talk about it here.”

Minho nods eagerly, the idea of spending time by your side sounding much more appealing than a weekend with Jung.

“I’m just waiting on a taxi,” he says. “I’ll be there soon.”

And when he hangs up, you stare briefly at the contact phone of you two, running your fingertips over the dimly lit screen. It’s an older photo, of you guys in college out at a bar, Minho smiling enthusiastically and giving you a piggy-back ride. And although it’s still Minho, it doesn’t feel anything like the version of him you know now.

*

“I don’t want this to set the precedent for the rest of our relationship.”

“Don’t want what to set a precedent?” Minho questions back.

“This! You running away from Jung every chance you get so that we’re only able to bond when he’s not around! You’re my best friend, Min. Why can’t you guys just make it work so that I don’t have to divide my time between the two of you like this?”

“You had no problem learning to divide it when we were in college,” Minho says frustratedly. “Now that you’re engaged it’s like I’m engaged to him, too. I don’t like the guy, okay? Whatever we make of that as friends isn’t in my hands, but it also doesn’t mean I’m gonna jump at the chance to go golfing with him every weekend.”

You’re quiet for a moment, his frustrated speech circling your mind as he remains sprawled out on your couch. He’s right, to some degree- you know very well that the two of them never got along well. And try as you might, they’re just incompatible in every way possible. Jung’s loud, he’s stubborn, he’ll never say no to a social outing and he’ll only make an effort to get along with someone for a finite amount of time before he’s disregarding their existence, much like he does Minho’s. And Minho is quiet, soft-spoken, only social when it comes to you and takes his stance on a person just minutes after meeting them. They’ve already reached the stubborn conclusion that they despise each other, and at this point in your life, there’s little you can do to change it.

“I just want to know things are okay between us,” you remark.

“Things are okay between us.”

“We haven’t had a proper hangout in months, Minho. I get married in a few weeks and then I’m afraid we just won’t see each other.”

Minho seems to understand the seriousness in your tone, sitting up from the couch to finally meet your gaze. You look disheartened, an expression Minho is used to seeing when you try to set him up with a date or when he can’t make it out to an event. But this time it seems like it has more weight to it, the way you sag your shoulders as you slouch over one of the barstools in the kitchen, completely terrified at the prospect of losing your best friend.

“I’ll tell you what,” Minho breaks the silence. “How about we plan something, just us? It’ll be like old times, and we don’t have to worry about Jung or your friends or anyone. Just for a weekend.”

You meet his gaze, too, promptly glancing at the ceiling as you think over his proposal.

“I don’t know, Jung probably wouldn’t like it-”

“This is exactly what I mean!” Minho interjects. “Everything you do is based on what Jung likes or doesn’t like. We used to go out together all the time- if you only want to hang out when he’s around then yeah, things might be a little different from here on out.”

And the words pierce through you like a dagger, yet again filling your mind with all the regrets that will come with shutting him out for the purposes of pleasing Jung. Minho is right- he’s been your best friend for years. Jung might be your future spouse, but that doesn’t mean your relationship with him has to be any more important than the lifelong commitment you’ve made to your best friend, too.

“Where would we go?” You ask reluctantly.

Minho shrugs casually, lying back down on the couch with his hands behind his head.

“Anything,” he responds. “Your pick.”

And you think over his offer again, mentally mapping out your schedule at work and what you guys might be able to do on a quick weekend together.

“Camping,” you say suddenly, straightening your posture.

“You hate camping,” Minho retorts, chuckling lightly.

“Yeah, but you love camping. I’m just doing this to spend time with you, Min. I already spent my weekend in the city. Let’s do something you like and we can have an old friend trip like we used to.”

Minho can’t help the grin that tugs at his lips, endeared by the way you always let him drag you to his favorite places just like you used to drag him. And he knows you’re a city girl through and through- you’ve always been very vocally opposed to accompanying him on his camping excursions. But maybe going together, you’ll have some change of heart if it means you won’t have to listen to Jung share all of his unwarranted opinions.

“Let’s do it,” Minho says confidently. “You’re gonna love it.”

“I’m only doing this for you,” you reply with a smile. “I still maintain that I’m going to hate it.”

*

A yoga retreat.

Jung is made to believe you’re at a yoga retreat, three hours out from your shared apartment, with a close girlfriend you haven’t seen in months.

And maybe it’s because he genuinely believes you, or he simply doesn’t care, but he doesn’t press you for any information about the event, sending you off with a chaste kiss and turning his attention back to the sports he watches on television. He doesn’t even inquire about why you fail to bring your yoga mat, leaving it folded neatly in the closet of your bedroom alongside all your workout clothes.

You do pack warm clothes, blankets and even a matching set of flashlights for when it gets pitch dark like you know the mountains do at night. And as you make your way to Minho’s house with your backpack slung over your shoulders, you’re actually a little excited, the idea of getting some fresh air sounding like a well-deserved treat after the week you’ve had in the city.

“Well aren’t you all ready to go camping,” you say to Minho in an amused tone, admiring the outfit he’s put together for the occasion. He sports a simple white t-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of jeans, coupled with a black cap he wears backwards over his brown hair. He looks a lot simpler than usual- in fact, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Minho in a cap before today.

“You look nice,” you voice to Minho, as he loads his duffel bag in the trunk of the car.

“Me?” He questions, furrowing his brows in genuine confusion. “I’m just dressed for comfort.”

“Yes, you. That cap looks good on you. God forbid I compliment my best friend.”

He chuckles lightly, helping you load your backpack into his car and closing the trunk when he’s finished.

“Ready?” Minho asks, turning to you with a small smile.

“Ready,” you echo, climbing into the passenger seat beside him.

The drive to the campsite is just over an hour long, taking Minho’s vehicle through narrow paths of dirt roads surrounded by trees. The treacherous drive doesn’t seem to faze him at all, as he keeps just one hand on the wheel, while the other rests casually on the car console. You can tell he’s done this drive a number of times before, judging by the way he needs no form of navigation and doesn’t stop to read the directional signs at any point.

“Do we need to pitch a tent when we get there?” You ask, and Minho laughs in response.

“That’s how I can tell you’ve never come here before.”

“What?” You reply with a chuckle of your own. “It’s a totally valid question.”

“Yeah, maybe if we were on Survivor. There’s tents all over the campsite. And picnic tables, and bathrooms and I think there’s a gift shop somewhere.”

You nod at his response, a little more intrigued now that you know it’s not going to be as hands-on as you thought. And when he pulls into the parking lot, he’s right- there are cabins that span the perimeter of the parking lot, presumably bathrooms and information centers about the place.

Minho puts the car into park as he helps you gather your bags, and then you both enter the cabin closest to you, being greeted by an older woman who sits at an information booth.

“Welcome!” She exclaims in a cheerful tone. “Are you folks staying overnight?”

“Yes,” Minho answers, hoisting his duffel bag further up his shoulder. “We’ll be here for two nights.”

“Wonderful!” she replies, gathering a thin stack of pamphlets. She uncaps a red pen, circling a little graphic that indicates a tent, and then slides it over to Minho along the counter.

“You two will occupy this location here- it’s just a few minutes up the hill there. The bathroom is attached to the unit, and there are a few clean towels in the drawers there.”

She slides him two more pamphlets, gesturing to their titles and keeping her gaze on the infographics.

“There’s a guide on plants to avoid, and some wildlife you might run into. Any questions?”

Minho shakes his head, stuffing the pamphlet into his pocket and giving her a small nod.

“No, thank you,” he says, looking over at you.

And the woman shoots you a smile now, gesturing to your hand.

“That is a beautiful ring,” she states, clasping a hand over her heart emotionally.

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile. “I’m getting married.”

She laughs lightly, shooting Minho a thumbs up.

“Enjoy it while you can!”

You’re quick to shake your head at her, taking a step away from Minho.

“Oh god, no, he’s not my fiancé. He’s just a friend.”

And Minho takes a step away, too, giving her a nod.

“We’re just longtime friends,” he echoes your words.

“My apologies,” the woman is quick to say. “Enjoy your stay regardless.”

*

“It never ends,” you say to Minho as you exit. “I can’t believe people still think we’re a couple when we go out.”

“It’s just a common equation,” Minho responds. “Two people. Engagement ring. Camping trip.”

“I know,” you emphasize. “It’s just so weird being so close to my own marriage and still having to tell people we’re not a couple.”

Minho swallows nervously, not entertaining the discussion any further as he takes your aversion to the idea of it as answer enough.

“It’s just up here,” Minho says, gesturing to the narrow dirt path that leads up to your tent.

The tent is a long, rectangular space, the beige tarp even accompanied by clear vinyl windows that zip up for added privacy. The inside houses a small birch wood table pushed against the side, two white folding chairs, and a single bed, just larger than a twin-sized one.

“One bed?” You say as you scan the room, dropping your bags and looking nervously back at Minho.

“All the units have one bed,” he explains casually. “I’ll take the floor.”

“You’re not taking the floor, Minho. It’s freezing.”

“I’ve done it before,” he says, unzipping his bag and pulling out a smaller pouch. “I’ll be fine.”

“But it’s so awkward to have you on the floor while I get a whole bed to myself.”

He disregards your concerns, tossing the pouch to you, which you catch in two hands and examine.

“Bait,” he says with a small smile.

“Bait?” You echo. “You mean like…”

“Fishing,” he says confidently. “We’re catching our dinner tonight.”

*

It’s a fair assumption to say you hadn’t taken Minho’s liking to camping very seriously. Sure, you knew he was partial to the great outdoors and to catching his own dinners. Of course he knows how to pitch a tent and gut a fish. But seeing him do it in action, string a spinnerbait onto his fishing rod and cast his line, watching meticulously as the bobber pulls underwater and he checks if he’s caught a bass yet, you’re admittedly pretty impressed. He looks completely in his element like this, uttering remarks about his “monofilament fishing line” that you don’t understand in the slightest, but you listen to regardless. For a brief moment, you can’t help but feel bad, seeing how much this interests him, when all you’ve ever done in the span of your friendship is drag him to clubs and get takeout together. Maybe you should’ve taken this whole thing more seriously. Maybe you should have accompanied Minho on one of his offers for a fishing trip when you still had the chance to do it without being under Jung’s watchful eye.

“We may need a smaller hook,” Minho says, as he adjusts his rod and stares out at the lake. The atmosphere is lazy and restful, the gentle lull of the lake’s deep blue water sloshing against the rocks that line the shore and swaying with the breeze. There’s a distant buzz of cicadas at this hour, and the swallows circle the vast green trees overhead that rustle in syncopation with the water. You and Minho remain seated on the flat rocks that line the shore, a cooler of ice and a small pouch of bait between the two of you.

Minho’s gaze remains set on the lake, attentively watching the bobber and praying for a bass to latch onto it so that he can instruct you on the de-gutting and cleaning process. But there seems to be no sign of fish anywhere, the only movement being the little ripples that vibrate with the sporadic activity of water bugs.

“When was the first time you went fishing?” You ask Minho suddenly, catching his gaze as he turns to you.

“First time?” He echoes. “I don’t know, maybe age seven? My dad taught me.”

You nod in response, picturing a little Minho alongside his dad, learning the ropes of monofilament fishing lines and all that jazz. You can’t help but smile at the thought of it, knowing Minho was probably so quiet, yet full of curiosity, the same way he is now.

“I wish I would’ve come,” you say finally, letting out a small sigh as you speak. “I wish I came with you on one of these trips.”

Minho shakes his head and waves you off. “Solo camping is one of my favorite things in the world. I didn’t need it to be ruined by all your city girl antics.”

“Hey!” You exclaim with a small laugh, hitting him lightly, and Minho hits you back.

For a moment, the two of you say nothing, admiring the way the sunlight glares overhead and sets the water aglow with glints of light that make it almost hard to look at. Minho takes notice of the more casual look you sport, too, void of any makeup and your hair tied back loosely. Similarly, the little imperfections that mark his skin remind you of the Minho you met in college, back when you were both riddled with zits and drank cans of soda for breakfast. And now across from you, acne scars and a handsome face he’s grown into so well, you can’t help but feel your heart swell at the fact that he’s still here, this many years later, regardless of the roadblocks your relationship has taken you through. It’s a miraculous thing to have someone stick by your side knowing you’re getting wed to a person he despises. And you refuse to part ways with him, too, despite the amount of outings he declines in the name of nothing important. What a fascinating prospect, to be reminded that your most unconditional form of love comes in the form of a best friend more than even your fiancé on most days.

You open your mouth to say something, being promptly interrupted by the reel of the fishing line being pulled back, the rhythmic buzzing of the handle startling you both as it’s pulled in circular motions to indicate a catch.

“Oh my god, what do we do?” You exclaim to Minho, a sense of urgency present in your voice as you await his instruction.

“I’ll teach you,” Minho says, as he rises from his spot and gestures to the fishing rod. “Grab the handle, like- yeah, just like that.”

And you do as you’re told, approaching the rod to steady the handle in your grasp. He guides you through the careful motions, steadying your hands a comfortable distance away from the reel seat, pulling back the handle with slow, yet purposeful movements and raising the fishing line away from the gentle current of the water.

“There’s a lot of resistance,” you comment, as you pull even harder.

“Really?” Minho remarks, his hands on his hips as he looks out upon the water. “I wonder if it’s going to be a big one. Keep pulling.”

And you do, heaving the rod desperately away from the water to pull in your catch. There’s heavy resistance at first, and then a generous amount of give to the force, as the line finally glides across the water and begins to pull up toward you.

“Get ready,” Minho says excitedly. “It’s probably going to be a little skittish, just hold tightly and don’t let go.”

As he watches you pull, he takes note of the way the line struggles to move past a barrier in the water, sending ripples down the shore as you continue to pull, to no avail.

“I need help,” you voice frantically. “Minho, take the rod-”

“Just relax,” Minho echoes, coming around behind you and placing two hands over yours. He stands close behind you as he helps steady the rod, gripping tightly and helping you reel it in.

The two of you watch with bated breath as the line finally begins to move again, erratic ripples of water vibrating in the otherwise still lake as you reel in the catch.

“Here it comes!” Minho exclaims, as he continues to reel over your hands with his, his veins protruding with every slight motion as his slender fingers work around yours.

And then the fishing line is promptly pulled out of the water, swinging in front of your view and slowing its swaying motions as you take a gander.

It’s a large, juicy, vibrant hunk of moss.

No fish in sight, no catch of the day, unless for a bottom feeder. Minho says nothing for a moment, placing his hands on his hips again as he takes in the sight of the forest green mass. And then you break the silence with laughter, doubling over and clutching your stomach as you laugh at the ridiculous view.

“What’s so funny?” Minho inquires with a breathy chuckle, transitioning into his own fit of giggles.

“It’s fucking moss,” you exclaim, gesturing to the fishing rod and laughing again. “We’ve been here for hours and we haven’t caught anything besides a fucking byrophyte.”

Minho laughs, too, setting the rod down to clutch his own stomach.

“It’s not funny,” he says between laughter. “We don’t have dinner tonight.”

“Yeah we do,” you say breathlessly. “We have moss.”

And the two of you almost collapse on the gravel, holding your stomachs as you laugh endlessly at the ridiculousness of the situation. The fishing rod remains propped up against the rocks, the slab of moss dangling and dripping murky water back onto the gravel.

When your laughter dies down, Minho sprawls out onto one of the big rocks, the palms of his feet flat against the warm stone as he meets your gaze again. You occupy the spot beside him, your knees bent too, keeping your gaze locked on his as you smile.

“I missed this,” you say after a moment of silence. “I missed hanging out with you.”

Minho responds in a breathy chuckle, running his hands through his hair and rolling his eyes in a joking manner.

“You should’ve come camping with me ages ago,” he says. “We could’ve been eating moss for dinner instead of fast food.”

You chuckle too, and the sunlight beams over your listless bodies sprawled out on the rocks, glints of light hitting Minho’s golden-brown hair and his sparkling eyes. He looks so angelic in this atmosphere, so at peace with the nature around him and in tune with his emotions. For the first time in a long while, there’s nothing present between you and Minho that hinders the relationship you have to each other. He’s just as important to you in this moment as you are to him. And not even the knowledge that you’ve lied to your fiancé to be here with him can come between that.

*

Lucky for you, Minho always comes prepared. Of course he’s dealt with the situation of catching nothing while fishing and needing a plan to fall back on for dinner. So it’s no surprise to you that his backpack contains cups of instant ramen and bags of chips.

“Shrimp or chicken?” Minho asks, as water boils on his portable kettle.

“Surprise me,” you shoot back, getting comfortable in one of the two camping chairs across the bed. You feel a wave of tiredness wash over your body instantly, but you also feel fulfilled, having bonded with Minho more in the last few hours than any of your double dates with Jung and one of Minho’s picks from a dating app.

Minho shuts off the kettle, tearing open packets of vegetables and mixing them with your noodles as he pours hot water in both cups.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Minho remarks, handing you a cup and sliding a pair of chopsticks across the table to you.

“Today was fun,” you say to him, as you blow on a generous serving of noodles and guide them into your mouth with the wooden chopsticks.

“You’re not half bad at fishing,” Minho states. “I think it’s just emptier this season. But your technique’s good.”

“Really?” You query. “I feel like you did most of the work.”

Minho shakes his head, slurping a portion of his noodles before speaking.

“Maybe if you ditched your lame golf nights with Jung and came camping with me more, you could get some practice.”

“Ha ha,” you muse sarcastically. “His golf nights aren’t lame, they’re actually pretty fun. You’d know if you came out to one.”

“Please,” Minho retorts, gathering more noodles with his chopsticks. “Artificial grass and polo shirts aren’t really my thing. Of course they’d be Jung’s, though.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means even his favorite sport is as fake as he is.”

“Minho!”

“What?” He says in a breathy chuckle. “You asked what I meant.”

You shake your head, stirring broth around in your cup with your chopsticks. You normally don't entertain Minho when he insults Jung like this, knowing he’s just going to get mad and list everything he despises about him. But tonight, being so far away from Jung, it somehow feels permissible. It’s not like Jung is going to materialize out of thin air and find out about his little remarks. You don’t get cell reception out here, and it’s possibly one of your last few intimate moments with Minho to just let loose and joke with him. So you don't say anything, allowing him free reign as he cracks jokes about Jung at his expense. And you don’t feel bad about it, either, knowing Jung wouldn’t hesitate to do the same back at Minho.

The tent falls quiet for a moment as both of you finish your meals, the only noises present between the two of you being slurping the remainder of your noodles and setting the cups aside. Minho runs his hands through his hair and spreads his legs out in front of him as he slouches back in his camper chair.

“I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married,” he says with a breathy chuckle. “That’s still so weird to me.”

“Imagine how I feel,” you emphasize. “The word ‘wife’ still kinda grosses me out.”

“Well you have about a month to get used to it,” Minho replies. And then he gets quiet, averting his gaze from yours as he blinks. “Or a whole lifetime, I guess.”

You stay quiet, too, pulling up your legs to cross them in your chair and nodding reluctantly.

“Yeah. ‘lifetime’ kinda sounds like a scary word, too.”

Minho purses his lips, and then he turns to meet your gaze again, a solemn smile on his face.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he voices. “It can also imply a lifetime of happiness. And of love. Permanence isn’t a bad thing.”

You smile at him, comforted by the optimism he brings to the atmosphere, despite his dislike for Jung, and especially the prospect of you getting married to him. He doesn’t change- he’s still the Minho you know very well, the one who takes your problems and makes them seem so small, so unimportant, until you can’t, in good conscience, worry about them anymore.

“You’re right,” you say back at him. “I’ll remember that when I say my vows.”

You think over his words momentarily, and then you meet his gaze with a knowing smile.

“Do you remember when we had to write an essay about where we’d want to travel if we won the lottery? In our literary analysis course?”

Minho’s eyes roll to the ceiling as he thinks for a moment, and then he nods.

“Yeah. You wrote about Europe or something.”

“I did,” you recall. “And you wrote about that one historical town. What was it called again?”

“Shirakawa,” Minho responds. “Small mountain village in Japan where it snows a ton and there are little farmhouses everywhere.”

You chuckle lightly, remembering the countless images Minho had shown you when he was producing his paper on the subject. You can still picture the little brown houses and the vibrant green hills in the summertime. And the winter photos looked like something out of a Christmas movie, fresh snow blanketing the village and painting the town with bright hues of white.

You think over his essay for a moment, remembering just how many times you’d peer edited each other’s papers, and Minho wound up getting the best grade in the class for how poetically he spoke of Shirakawa. He talked about it for several months after the assignment, too, always voicing his desire to visit one day and see all the farmhouses for himself.

“I wish we still had time to go,” you say finally. “I always pictured we’d go one day.”

Minho purses his lips in a thin line, your statement echoing in his ears and the words stinging. It’s moments like these he’s especially regretful you’re getting married to Jung- all the stupid, likely intangible plans you made together and promised you’d fulfill sometime down the line. And now with Jung’s obnoxious presence indicating that of permanence, Minho knows there’s zero possibility you’ll be able to fulfill any of the plans you made together.

“You have a whole honeymoon planned on a tropical island,” Minho says somberly. “That’s far better than little old Shirakawa.”

You say nothing in reply, nodding at his words and thinking back to the plans you and Jung have already booked for your honeymoon.

Honeymoon. Even that word sounds foreign.

“Maybe we’ll plan for when I get back,” you tell Minho. “Little camping excursion in the farmhouses. We can get shitfaced and pet all the little goats.”

He laughs lightly, giving you a smile.

“Sure,” Minho affirms. “We can do that.”

And then his gaze darts to his backpack which sits on the floor, his eyes widening as he sits up.

“Speaking of shitfaced,” Minho says. “I think I brought boxed wine.”

“Boxed wine?” You repeat with a chuckle. “Jesus, we really might as well be back in college.”

He rises from the camper chair to make his way over to his backpack, unzipping the larger pouch and pulling out two small black cartons of wine, giving them a small shake before scanning the room as though he’s looking for something else.

“What?” You query, waiting for him to say something.

Minho says nothing, standing up again and taking long strides to where his fishing rod is, grasping it in one hand and fiddling with the hook.

“What are you doing?” You ask, watching as Minho’s expression turns serious again. His slender fingers toy with the small hook, the two cartons of wine balanced in his other hand.

You watch as he unfolds one tab on the box of wine, and then brings down the fishing hook to pierce it through the thin cardboard and string it through securely. When he’s finished, he gives it a little tug, and then raises the box of wine as he lifts the fishing rod once more, reeling the handle in the counter direction to move it out toward you.

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask again, chuckling softly as you watch Minho struggle to balance the carton of wine.

He reels the carton out further, and then slows as he drops it into your lap, moving the rod around in erratic motions and pretending to stabilize the line.

“Get it!” Minho exclaims. “It’s getting away, you have to get it!”

You play along, grasping the carton of wine in your two hands and pretending to steady its slippery grip as it flaps around helplessly.

“It’s slippery!” You exclaim back, holding it up with two hands and angling it toward Minho.

Minho gasps, and then sets his rod down to applaud you generously.

“Congratulations,” he says in a proud voice. “Your first catch. You caught your own dinner.”

And the dark night around you seems to be set aglow as laughter fills the entirety of the tent.

*

Two hours later, it’s half past midnight, empty cartons of wine on the table between you as you talk through your starkly different lives.

Minho shares tales of work you’d missed out on, dating app horror stories and recounts days from college when you’d go to nightclubs together and use fake IDs. You listen attentively for the first time in a long time, no sense of urgency present, nor the desire to set him up with somebody else. It’s you who wants to be here alongside him, rekindling your friendship and reliving your glory days. And Minho feels the same way, a gentle buzz swirling his mind from the cherry merlot and your sweet laugh in response to his tales.

“They so thought we were lying when we turned 21,” you say through laughter. “In hindsight, it’s pretty lucky we didn’t get thrown in jail for a night.”

“Yeah, only because you flirted with the bouncer,” Minho says. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t throw you in jail after offering you a drink.”

You laugh lightly, remembering the bizarre encounter, and then you slouch back in your chair as you shut your eyes.

“We should get to sleep,” you say to Minho. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” he responds. “I’ll get my sleeping bag on the floor.”

“Don’t be such a fucking drag,” you protest.

“What?”

“Just sleep on the bed with me. It’s big enough and there’s less of a chance that you’ll wake up with a broken back. I’m not listening to you complain about your fucked-up joints on tomorrow’s drive home.”

Minho laughs lightly, and then he gestures to the bed.

“If you snore, I’m throwing you to the bears,” he says plainly.

“Yeah, well you kick me, I’m dumping you in the lake.”

*

Minho brushes his teeth over the small steel sink in the corner of the room, swapping out to fix the bed sheets while you brush your teeth, too. When you’re finished, you meet him at the foot of the bed, pulling your corner of the blanket down and climbing in beside him. The ceiling of the tent is barely visible in this level of darkness, just an indistinguishable outline of fabric visible as you cross your hands over your chest and exhale deeply. Minho does the same, and though he’s right beside you, he feels miles away, his exhale sounding distant as he focuses on the ceiling of the tent, too.

“It’s really dark,” you comment.

“Yeah,” he says back. “That’s the outdoors for you.”

He thinks for a brief moment, and then he breaks the silence that washes over the two of you.

“Are you excited for the honeymoon?” He asks quietly.

There’s no answer for several moments, the only sound coming from the gentle sway of the trees just beyond your tent.

And you are excited, but you’re more nervous, uncertain and disappointed knowing that everything will be so different upon your return. It’s like exchanging an old life for a new one- one that could be far worse, for all you know.

“I’m nervous,” you say candidly.

“Why?”

“Because marriage is a big deal. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m even doing the right thing.”

It’s Minho’s turn to remain quiet now, his hands folded over his chest as he ponders your words.

“Are you happy?”

There’s no response from you. Not now, not after a minute and not even after several minutes have passed. And you are happy, but you’re still much of the same- nervous, uncertain and disappointed that this new life implies change.

“Jung hates me,” Minho says suddenly.

“He doesn’t hate you-”

“He hates me,” Minho reaffirms a little louder. “The way he looks at me, or interrupts us whenever we’re talking. I’m sorry that I’m so distant from you when he’s around. The guy hates me.”

You stay quiet, knowing he’s right, but not wanting to fuel the fire that burns between the two of them.

“He probably thought we had something going on,” Minho says. “He’d kill me if he knew I was in the same bed with you.”

You scoff lightly, dismissing Minho’s claims with a wave of your hand.

“Please,” you emphasize. “He hasn’t even touched me in a month.”

And you regret the words the second they leave your lips, bringing two hands up to cover your mouth as Minho props himself up to look at you.

“What? Why?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, I genuinely want to know,” Minho reiterates, keeping his gaze locked on yours. “You’re getting married and you haven’t had sex with your fiancé in a month? Who does that?”

“He told me it was a punishment,” you say in exasperation. “We had a fight, and he told me he wouldn’t touch me if I didn’t admit to being wrong.”

“What?” Minho says, turning audibly irate. “Are you serious? What kind of cruel and unusual punishment is that?”

“Look, I don’t know, okay? Let’s just not talk about it-”

“There go your excuses,” Minho says. “Your future husband won’t touch you, and you’re still defending him. Jesus Christ, it’s worse than I thought it was.”

“Would you stop?” You say to him, sitting up as he slings his elbows around his knees and shakes his head.

“Stop what? Stop being concerned for my best friend who’s clearly suffering at the hands of her own fiancé? Not gonna happen.”

“I’m not suffering,” you relay to him.

“Sure,” Minho says sarcastically. “So you never wanted to have sex in the whole month he’s kept this punishment going.”

You say nothing, swallowing nervously as you keep your gaze locked on Minho’s. He’s at a painfully close proximity to you right now, one strand of hair falling loosely in his face as his eyebrows furrow together in anger. His plain black t-shirt hugs his broad shoulders as he sits up, his basketball shorts riding up to expose a generous amount of his toned thighs. And his lips remain parted, waiting for you to say something, which you don’t. You simply stare at him blankly, your eyes darting over his gaze, down to his lips and then back up to his eyes.

Minho’s expression turns serious, too, unable to look away from your conflicted expression as you watch him.

“Not… really…” you manage to say in short words.

“Maybe not…” you continue, leaning into him a little as his arms loosen around his knees.

He somehow looks so tantalizing right now, in a way you’ve never seen him before. Sure, you’re aware Minho is good looking, and he always has been. And maybe your fleeting crush back when you first met him was short-lived, quickly moving on to date somebody else you met at a party. Maybe you were a little jealous the time his former girlfriend remarked how good he was in bed, or that she got to touch him when he wore that suit you loved so much at graduation. Maybe you even touched yourself once or twice to the thought of him, conjuring some stupid fantasy in your mind for the sole purpose of getting off to it. But nothing was ever going to come to fruition, not when he’s been your friend for years, you have Jung and you’re about to get married.

…At least not with any intention besides being fucked by him the way Jung has neglected of you for a month now.

“Maybe not until now,” you finally breathe out, your heart beating erratically in your chest as you await an answer from him.

Minho’s gaze flickers down to your lips, and then back to your eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as he makes sense of your words.

“Are you drunk right now?” He asks simply.

“No,” you’re quick to respond, shaking your head to affirm the answer.

“Good,”’Minho says. “Me neither.”

And the two of you meet in the middle, his lips crashing against yours roughly as you kiss him for the first time, hands flying to tug at his t-shirt as he brings to hands around the small of your back.

He tastes like wine, transferring the robust flavor of cherry merlot back onto your lips as you kiss him, his plump lips working perfectly against yours as you pull him closer. You want so badly to position yourself differently, to adjust your body’s awkward spot on the bed so that you can be a bit closer to him, so that you can cup his face and pepper it in breathless kisses. But you fear that the minute you pull away, Minho’s going to somehow realize that it’s you he’s kissing, his best friend of so many years, one who’s already engaged.

It’s Minho who pulls away briefly first, getting a little closer to you, while you scoot further back and lie flat on your spot on the bed.

“This is just to prove a point,” Minho says breathlessly, as he hovers over you now and steadies himself over your body with one strong arm. “It’s not cheating,” he emphasizes, and you nod eagerly at the words, suddenly aware that it’s not even the cheating aspect you were worried about. It was solely the possibility of ruining your friendship with Minho, who’s always been so vocal about his distaste for disloyalty.

“It’s just to prove a point,” you repeat, tangling your hands in his hair and pulling him back down to kiss you. “Nobody has to know.”

Minho grins against your lips, pressing repeated, chaste kisses to your already swollen lips and trailing down to paint a line of kisses down the column of your neck. Your heart beats in ways you’ve never felt before, a rapid arrhythmia brought on by the sheer terror of being found out, by the knowledge that this is the one person who could single handedly ruin your engagement to Jung. And yet you couldn’t care less in this moment, as his teeth take your flesh between them and suck bruises down your neck, a generous purple color painting the goosebumps that rise upon your skin.

Are either of you in any place to return with hickeys painting your skin like you spend the weekend at a frat house? Not in the slightest. And yet you can’t help but feel this is what you missed in college all that time, the same actions Minho repeated with the few girlfriends he ran through. Fucking them sweetly in his dorm bed, roping scarves around their necks when he’d send them off and his ears turning a bright shade of red when you’d point them out in your 7am college lectures.

Was there ever a hint of jealousy present between the two of you? Maybe, you think to yourself, as a string of spit connects Minho’s lips to your bruises, peppering them in light kisses. You could never help but wonder what it was like, what those girls had experienced each time they disappeared from his dorm in the early hours of the morning. And Minho, being the gentleman he was, was never one to kiss and tell. The sex was intimate, private, the details living and dying with him only, even if the relationship went awry or fizzled out suddenly.

“We probably shouldn’t go any further,” Minho interrupts, pulling away from you to maintain eye contact. His eyes are hooded with lust, his lips pink and swollen from kissing you so passionately. And his eyebrows arch up in a state of concern, mostly worried you’re going to protest him taking it any further than this. But it’s all you’ve occupied your mind with now, wanting so badly to know what little tricks Minho wears up his sleeve, if he’s just as intrigued with the idea as you are, if he even wants to have sex with you.

“It’s not like we’re dating or anything,” you say to Minho, desperately searching for the words to indicate how badly you want this. “It’s just… some drunken hookup. It’s probably nothing Jung didn’t do at his party last week.”

“But we’re not-” Minho begins, promptly silencing himself. He begins to tell you that he’s not drunk, and you aren’t either- but he’s already caught on to your little plan.

“Yeah,” Minho then says. “I’m a little tipsy.”

“Me too,” you say with a soft chuckle. “Too much wine.”

“Yeah,” he says, leaning into kiss you again. “And I get really horny when I’m drunk.”

“Me too,” you say between kisses. “It’s not like we can just leave each other hanging. Unless you want me to rub one out beside you, and that would be more awkward.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “Might as well… help each other out, right?”

“Right,” you affirm, pulling down your panties as Minho separates to pull off his shirt.

It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, already having witnessed him in this level of undress at every pool party and when you’d come over to his dorm unannounced. But it feels different at this proximity, his tanned skin hovering over yours and brushing against your flesh with every eager kiss.

Minho begins to ask you if he can touch you, but you’re faster than he is, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your aching clit, letting him circle two fingers around your bundle of nerves as he pulls back to look you in the eyes.

“Jesus,” Minho remarks. “You are wet when you’re drunk.”

And your breath hitches in the back of your throat as he rubs you gently, a smirk growing on his face as you let out little whimpers. It’s been so long since somebody’s touched you like this, Jung hardly even giving attention to the foreplay on most days. His nimble fingers rub at a steady pace, his eyes boring into yours as he makes you writhe in pleasure beneath him. Minho’s eyes are sparkling at this proximity, his big brown pupils exuding curiosity and tenderness as he gauges your every reaction to his touches.

“Minho,” you breathe out desperately, arching into his touch to chase the friction.

“What?” He asks sweetly, his expression shifting into that of concern as he waits for you to speak. But he knows what you’re going to ask, also aware of the tent pitched in his boxers as he works you.

“Don’t make me ask,” you say with a sheepish chuckle.

He chuckles softly, too, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling his hand away.

“Let me get a condom,” Minho says in a serious tone. And you’d completely forgotten about protection, not even having used a condom in ages, since your only partner for several years has been Jung.

With the painful ache between your legs, you wish so badly you could ask him to fuck you raw and help ease the weeks of waiting you’ve had to do just to feel some sense of relief. And a part of you can’t help but think back to your days of college, when Minho would always ensure he kept a new one between the crisp bills in his wallet. Ones that were put to use with other women, Minho always so careful not to make any stupid mistakes or take risks the way you and Jung often did.

But you can’t let him fuck you raw, being in the middle of nowhere, no access to pills and admittedly not the most punctual at remembering to take your birth control. The last thing you can do right now is show up to your own wedding with Jung- pregnant with Minho’s child.

Minho’s cock is fully erect as he fishes around his backpack for a condom, pulling out his wallet and sorting through the bills for one. You briefly wonder what would happen if he didn’t have one- you’d likely ask him to fuck you anyway, and to finish on your face or your tits. But it’d be such a waste not to let him finish inside of you, not when you’re both this aroused and desperate for some sense of relief

You silently pray he won’t think too hard about any of this. Don’t think about who I am to you. Don’t think about how this will complicate things, and don’t think about the fact that I’m engaged to another man. Just fuck me, and we’ll deal with whatever consequences arise tomorrow.

“Got it,” Minho voices, and you feel yourself exhale the breath you’ve been holding this whole time.

Minho approaches you again, pinching it between his two fingers, tearing open the silver packet with his skewed front teeth and pulling out the white rubber. You watch with bated breath as he rests a knee on the bed beside you, steadying himself with one hand and rolling the condom onto his length with one hand.

It’s the first time you’ve properly taken note of the appearance of his cock, and he’s bigger than you’d imagined. His thick, veiny girth is tinted a bright shade of red in anticipation, his head leaking a bead of precum as the rubber grazes his tip and coats every inch of his flesh. You’re a little disappointed at the sight being obscured by the protection, but you take a sharp breath, anyway, wanting nothing more than to just feel it inside of you.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Minho asks, as he hovers over you again and props himself up with two hands. “If you think we’re making some mistake-”

“We’re not,” you say quickly. “It’s not a mistake. I promise you I’m not drunk or out of my mind or anything. I’m just really fucking horny.”

Minho chuckles lightly, and then he leans into graze his lips over yours just barely, delivering a painfully light kiss as he positions himself in front of you.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, pressing another light kiss to your lips. “I promise I won’t get mad or anything.”

You nod eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck, and then you both maintain eye contact with his hands as he carefully guides the tip of his length inside of you. You feel like you could cum at the sensation of his tip alone, your walls contracting around him desperately as he shuts his eyes in pleasure.

“Jesus,” Minho breathes. “You’re tight.”

“It’s been a month since he fucked me,” you admit shyly. “I haven’t even touched myself.”

And Minho takes it as a signal to snake a hand down between your bodies, latching the pads of his fingers to your clit once more and rubbing in gentle circles.

“He’s a fucking idiot,” Minho says plainly. “What a fucking joke.”

You weave your fingers in his golden brown tresses pulling him in for another kiss as he begins to thrust in and out of you with gentle movements so as not to hurt you. And it feels heavenly, like nothing you’ve ever felt with Jung before. There’s so much fear circling your mind, but it simply elevates the arousal you feel at the same time, your mind and body contracting in syncopation to echo the same sentiment that maybe you have indeed, been jealous of some of the other girls he’s fucked. Maybe your jealousy forced you to shut out the idea of anybody being pleasured like this by your best friend. You silently pray it never felt half this good for any of them, that he simply couldn’t get hard for them or maybe he’d neglected the same parts that drive you crazy in this moment. Because the thought of his cock inside of anybody except for you drives you mad, it feels so unnatural to think about when he’s fucking you so sweetly in the privacy of your tent, here in the middle of nowhere. Virtually impossible to feel an ounce of guilt when the nearest human is likely miles away, made even harder considering the only man who’d even care is much, much farther.

And Minho hopes you can’t feel that he’s been trying to stave off his own orgasm for the better part of 20 minutes now. His cock twitching with every thrust, his eyes shutting tightly to give attention to the sensation of your cunt clenching desperately around his thick girth. He can’t remember how he’d imagined it all those years, but he knows this feels much, much better than any fantasized version of you that ran rampant in his thoughts. One he had to stop himself from staring at a little too long when you’d opt to wear short skirts and tight little shirts to the clubs you’d frequent. A version of you he swore would one day come around to the realization that Jung isn’t meant for you, that he doesn’t fulfill you emotionally, or intellectually or even physically. Even a version of you that found exhilaration in fucking Minho behind Jung’s back, because having any version of you belong to Minho in one form or another would always take precedence over your inevitable absence following the wedding.

“Talk to me,” Minho says, as his thrusts slow a little. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You,” you’re quick to respond. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Minho captures your lips in a drooly kiss, gasping into your parted lips as he thrusts in again and holds it there for a moment.

“Is it still okay?” He asks, like he hasn’t already been fucking you for several minutes now.

“It’s more than okay,” you respond, folding your leg at the knee beside him so that he’s hitting an entirely new angle.

“Jesus Christ,” Minho breathes, squeezing his eyes as his cock grazes your cunt even deeper.

Your breaths are labored now, involuntary gasps escaping your mouth with every thrust inside of you. His cock is completely buried to the hilt inside of you, the condom completely coated in your juices and working out of you with complete ease as he fucks you.

And he fucks you like he’s yours, like he’s the one getting married to you, perhaps subconsciously to prove a point to both you and Jung. He could never fuck you like this. I’m willing to bet he never has. He could never want you the way I do so passionately and unrelenting.

“Minho,” you call to him, arching into his touch as he moves a strand of hair out of your face.

“What is it?”

“This is okay, right?,” you state, though your tone takes the form of a plea, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “It feels so good, I don’t want to ruin things-”

“It won’t ruin things,” Minho emphasizes. “We’re drunk, remember?” he says with a light chuckle.

His face is promptly buried in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses along the flesh and whispering promises against you that exist only in the intimate space of your shared tent.

“I’m just helping you out while we’re here,” Minho repeats. “And then you have a wedding to run off to.”

You smile up at him, fingers massaging his scalp lightly as he stays still inside of you, his cock pulsating lightly inside of the rubber as you take him.

“I would’ve asked for help a lot sooner if I knew it’d be this good,” you say with a saccharine smile, allowing your fingers to loop in his hair and tug lightly.

Minho chuckles down at you, his smile instilling an almost immediate sense of comfort once more as he begins to move again, his cock grazing your cervix with every slight movement as he lets out little gasps over you.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” you breathe through labored pants. Your tone sounds surprised, almost, at the prospect of your best friend coaxing an orgasm out of you.

And maybe you are, never having thought that this camping trip would end up with him inside of you, making love to you the way you picture the events of your honeymoon to unfold. Your best friend since college, and the most vocally displeased person at the reality of your engagement to Jung.

And the moment Minho’s been fantasizing since he first confronted his own feelings for you, a time completely unbeknownst to him now. Maybe it was the time you let him stay in your dorm bed when he wasn’t feeling good, or the time you baked him his favorite cake for his birthday most people seemed to have forgotten about. But the pinpointed time doesn’t matter right now- he’s here, your entire being is his for the night, and love or not, he’ll take any form of you he can grasp so desperately at.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, too,” Minho says back, his hands digging into your waist as he moves a little faster.

For several moments, nothing else is said between the two of you, only the echoing sounds of skin and drool and his toned body working itself in and out of you teeming around the dinky little tent like an erotic film on low volume. The sounds are muffled, both of you doing your best to remain hushed in your words and your breathy exchanges to each other, almost as if it’ll all be too real if you voice it any louder than this.

But all of this is very real, the actions serving as a sealed promise between the two of you to maintain this remarkable relationship you’ve developed with him. One in which you traverse the complexities of dating a man who’s never quite fulfilled you the way Minho caught on to very early on. And in turn, Minho uses the opportunity to fulfill you in every way he’s able to, whether it means being there at 3am to lend a kindly ear, concocting your favorite dishes after waking up hungover as a result of drinking to mask Jung’s shortcomings. And even to fuck away the stress Jung instills inside of you. To meet you halfway with his version of intimacy, one Jung has withheld from you for so long, and to remind you that although the marriage implies permanence, things could still be so, so different.

“Cum for me,” Minho says to you, leaning in to keep his lips pressed to yours. “Just let go of everything. Don’t think about him right now.”

And somehow it’s those words that assist you in reaching your finish, the subtle command to eject Jung from all your thoughts and replace him with Minho and Minho and more Minho.

It’s Minho easing the pain, Minho kissing you so tenderly, Minho thrusting his hardened cock in and out of your soaking cunt as you whimper helplessly beneath him.

And it’s Minho who finishes first, squeezing his eyes tightly as he feels his tip releases strings of cum into the constriction of the rubber condom, the finish feeling as though it’s the heaviest he’s had in months.

And the gentle pulse against your flesh coaxes out your own release, contracting around his wet girth and dribbling cum along the length of the condom as he fucks you through your fervent moans.

“God, you’re amazing,” Minho voices, as he pulls you in for a much gentler kiss. He holds his lips there momentarily, grazing them softly over yours, every part of him wanting to stay right here inside of you.

But as his cock begins to soften against him once more, he pulls out without another word, stripping off the condom while you watch him.

Strands of sweaty hair hang loosely in front of his face, framing his flushed appearance as his nimble fingers work to tie the condom off. He looks so attainable, so forgiving as he moves, and every part of you wants nothing more than to pull him close again and keep him tangled in your needy embrace.

“Minho?” You ask, as you sit up on the palms of your hands to meet his gaze.

“Hm?” He hums in response, discarding the condom and running two hands through his disheveled hair.

“Would you stay like this?”

He chuckles softly, occupying his spot again and pulling the blankets up to his chest.

“I’m not taking the floor anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, would you stay... close to me?” You ask shyly, your eyes flickering over his figure as he lies beside you.

He sits up to meet your gaze, reaching a hand out to you, his palm facing upward as he shoots you a sweet smile.

“I can stay close to you,” Minho reaffirms, pulling you close to his chest as he lies flat again, your head resting on his broad chest.

His chest rises and falls with every breath, his eyes shutting gently as he revels in the sensation of you seeking comfort beside him like this. And he can’t help but press a series of soft kisses to your temple, smiling when he hears a soft giggle escape your lips.

When the tent falls quiet once more, your listless bodies welcome the sleepiness that washes over you, euphonious melodies of crickets engaging in the sounds of nightfall outside. And Minho’s hand rubs gentle back and forth motions along the small of your back, reassuring for one last time that you have nothing to feel guilty about.

*

It’s like a moth to a flame, the way you’re drawn to Minho in the morning, despite the promise of it being just one night with him.

You’re hypnotized by the way he pulls on his sweatpants, chuckling as he nearly trips over himself in the confined space of the tent. His veiny hands working nimbly to chop vegetables and crush herbs as he prepares you one of his signature omelets. The silence that falls over you both while you eat, two fascinated gazes stuck on each other knowing very well you’d let him do it all over again if you weren’t so pressed for time. And when he’s helping you hoist your heavy backpack over his shoulders, the pressing urge to kiss him is present again, as though you seek a reminder that what occurred was indeed real and not some lucid dream conjured up within the darkened campsite.

An urge which you act upon, leaning into press your lips to his as he turns to ask if you’re all packed. And one which is reciprocated with a smile from him, grinning against your lips as he takes his time cupping a hand to your cheek and grazing his fingertips along your skin tenderly. With no real purpose, no sexual implication, no rush. Simply a kiss to conclude the trip, which may very well have been everything you needed as it precedes the wedding.

And with shared smiles between the two of you, Minho leads as you make your way back through the informational center. The same woman is sat at the desk, except she says nothing as you pass her by, a scowl on her face at the sight of you. You watch as she bows politely to other guests, inquires about their stay and offers them hard candies from the glass jar in front of her. Except she says nothing to you, almost appearing to shake her head as you pass her by.

“She was nicer yesterday,” you voice to Minho, your concerned gaze scanning his expression for a reaction. But he doesn’t give one, shrugging lightly as he holds the door for you on the way out.

“She’s probably having a bad day,” he says back. “Don’t worry about it.”

And it’s not until he takes your hand in his again that you realize it- this woman who you’d so confidently corrected on the fact that Minho is not in fact your fiancé, has witnessed you kissing him and holding his hand on your way out. Like a scarlet letter you wear upon your chest, except it’s you who put it there. Confirmation that you’re disloyal- a cheater, simply put. You want to defend your actions, but realistically, to whom? Not to Minho, who actively facilitated it. Not to Jung, who would kill you both if he knew.

And not even to the elderly woman, who you can’t explain it to, because it’s different. It’s not cheating, not when it’s Minho. He’s not some drunken hookup from a dive bar, or someone who’s relentlessly pursued you despite your protests. He’s your best friend, one who did you a favor in the absence of your fiancé’s desire to satisfy you. It’s different, you want to say to her. It’s not cheating with Minho- he’s different.

But you settle on the uncomfortable silence that remains when you climb into the passenger seat of Minho’s car, watching the trees melt into a blur of green hues as he backs out of the parking lot. And his hand meets yours over the center console, intertwining your fingers to put your mind at ease like he can somehow read your mind.

Perhaps he can, being the person who’s known every one of your thoughts so intimately since your time in college. And he also reads into your dismissal of the event when you finally let out a gentle sigh, lacing your fingers with his and allowing him to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

*

The arrival home is a non ceremonious one, Minho dropping you off a block before your shared apartment with Jung to avoid the interrogation he knows he’ll get.

He assists in gathering your bags, consolidating your items to ensure you can comfortably carry them up the block. And for a minute, the two of you say nothing as he sends you on your way, a kind of sparkle present in his eyes as he stares at you. He looks different today, a saccharine smile on his face and a much calmer demeanor overall. Every bone in your body wants to jump him and pepper him in kisses, to thank him for relieving the pent up sexual frustration in you and affirming that your fears surrounding this wedding are valid, but they don’t imply that you won’t enjoy married life, either. They’re just… feelings, ones you often find trouble confronting in the presence of Jung, and ones that you realize you’ve probably never confronted at all, if not around Minho.

The fears are valid, and they’re not fleeting in the slightest. But they are lessened with the reminder that Minho’s beside you every step of the way- regardless of how it manifests in your relationship. And the silence remains, as Minho shoots you a small wave, his eyes flickering briefly over the distant outline of your apartment.

“Hey,” you call out to Jung, who’s lazily sprawled out over the sofa, his feet laid flat upon the coffee table.

“How was the trip?” He asks enthusiastically, not taking his eyes off the sports channel that echoes loudly in front of him.

“Oh, you know,” you reply casually. “Just yoga. Always good to see old friends, though.”

“I’ll bet,” Jung replies, chuckling sarcastically as he speaks. “Seems like the only person you’re around these days is Minho.”

And then he reaches for the remote, lazily flipping through channels as you set your bag down.

“He’s my oldest friend,” you say casually, hoping he won’t notice the audible shakiness in your tone. It feels like he can hear how loud your thoughts are, the fears circling your mind, an expression on your face painted with incrimination. You think of your heart racing while Minho kissed you, the way his cock felt inside of you, your clit pulsating gently at the mere memory of it.

“Yeah, well, change is good,” Jung finishes. As you turn the corner, to meet him in front of the couch, you take note of his lap- a small, white cardboard box propped upon his sweatpants, the top ripped to keep it open and his hands working and out of it in rushed motions.

It’s the cake, you quickly realizing, your heart sinking a little at the sight of the frosting in complete disarray, almost half the dessert either smeared around the sides or piled on the fork he brings up to his lips.

“Listen,” Jung says, between a mouthful of food. “I have a golf thing this week and I want you to come see a couple buddies of mine.”

“This week?” You echo, your mind pondering all the potential excuses you can use against him. But nothing comes to mind, as Jung sets the box of cake aside and stands up from the couch.

“Yeah,” he says casually. “My buddy from college is gonna be in town, and he wants to get together before the wedding.”

You want so badly to protest his offer, knowing very well that Jung’s friends are nothing short of insufferable. They very seldom like you, openly voicing their concerns with your flaws, and they’re protective of him, as though Jung is the one who’s sacrificing more by being wed to you.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask, a small smile on your lips to offset the anger that could very well erupt in response to your statement.

But Jung just brings two hands up to your shoulder, rubbing the sides as he turns his attention back to the television.

“Not really. Hey, the game’s on again but make sure to clear your calendar on Thursday for me. And let’s bring that wine we got recently.”

“The white one?” You question, sagging your shoulders a little at his lack of hesitation to offer your favorite wine as a housewarming gift to his friends.

“Yeah, that one,” he says plainly, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and slinging his body back over the couch.

“By the way,” Jung voices, motioning for you to move out of the view of the tv screen. “Where’s the cake from? Shit’s good.”

Your gaze lands on the box again, completely torn apart, the icing letters indistinguishable and the fondant ribbons in disarray on the cardboard. You can’t help but think of Minho and his careful attention to detail- the way he picked all your favorite colors, the flavors he knows you love, all from your favorite bakery you very seldom even visit because of the steep price points.

“Babe?” Jung calls again, spooning a layer of frosting into his mouth. “I asked where the cake was from.”

And you shrug casually as you pivot on your heel to exit the room.

“Minho picked it,” you say as you stride away from his still-slouched figure. “I wouldn’t know.”

*

“You have to freeze your cake and eat a piece of it every wedding anniversary,” Jung’s friend Kwang explains, as he brings a cigar to his lips and inhales generously. “That’s what we did, and we still have enough red velvet to last fucking years in there.”

“I love it,” Jung replies in a chuckle, slinging an arm over your shoulder and nudging you harshly. “Course, I’m not sure this one could stop herself from eating the rest of our cake for a whole year. She’s got a bigger sweet tooth than I do.”

You distance yourself from Jung a little, fiddling with your golf club as the men share echoing laughter between puffs of smoke.

The golf course Jung frequents is massive, spanning several hectares of land, which means you’re often stuck here for a long while during his golf sessions. His friends are the same detestable group of men he’s usually out with, all old friends from college you’ve since been forced to get acquainted with. And together they talk each others’ ears off about sports, food, making subtle digs at their own wives or partners, and of course, golf. The blinding shade of green hills contrasts harshly against a pale blue sky and depicts an almost cartoon scenery, and you can feel the headache in your temples worsening with every loud chuckle that escapes Jung’s lips.

He hasn’t asked once about your yoga retreat- which may be a blessing of sorts when you recall the events that unfolded. But you know it’s got nothing to do with that, and everything to do with the fact that he doesn’t give a shit.

He probably doesn’t even remember you were gone, nor does he care to fill you in on the details that unfolded while you were away. And it wouldn’t matter, because you know it would be exactly some version of this- his obnoxious friends, golf, sports on tv and bragging about his proximity to a married life with you. Strangely enough, you’re normally able to stomach these conversations when you’re forced to go out with Jung. But somehow today, every word he utters aggravates you, and you’re desperate to find some excuse to make it home again.

Except you also know very well that it’s something else eating away at your mind this afternoon.

“Y/n?” Kwang questions, and you snap your head to look at him, realizing you’ve tuned out most of his talking points up until now.

“Yes?”

“It’s your turn,” he says, gesturing to your golf club. Jung watches you and chuckles, almost embarrassed with you, as he mirrors Kwang’s gesture.

“Go on,” Jung says condescendingly. “Remember how I taught you last time.”

And with the golf club in your timid grasp, you approach the tee, positioning your club out in front of you and doing your best to mimic the way Jung taught you. Or rather the way he yelled at you to memorize, always taking his sports endeavors far too seriously.

The club head rests gently against the golf ball, pulling back momentarily as your hands shift and tighten around the grip again. And Kwang exhales another puff of smoke, a light chuckle escaping his lips as his eyes bore into your standing figure.

“Her form’s gotten a little better,” he remarks to Jung.

“Yeah, because of me,” Jung says back.

“And good thing, too,” Kwang voices. “If she’d gotten better without your help it’d mean someone else was helping her.”

He laughs as he finishes speaking, transitioning to a coughing fit as you turn to meet Jung’s gaze. But Jung doesn’t look back at you, he simply pats Kwang’s back and exchanges laughter of his own.

“That’s true!” Jung echoes through a fit of laughter, like it’s the best joke he’s heard all century.

“Could you imagine if she pulled up here better than you?” Kwang says, flicking stray ashes off his cigar. “Some other man doing your part for you?”

Jung chuckles again, pulling a box of cigars from the pocket inside of his blazer and thumbing at a fresh one. You watch as he flips open a small bronze Zippo lighter, a small metal clink emitting from behind his cupped hand, as he brings the cigar head to the little yellow flame and holds it there momentarily.

“Fuckin’ A,” Jung remarks with the cigar hanging between his lips.

When it’s lit successfully, he pockets the lighter again, taking a generous puff and blowing smoke just past the direction of Kwang’s still-laughing figure.

“They say that’s how you know your wife’s disloyal,” he remarks. “Her sports form never worsens.”

You stand awkwardly, your fingers grazing the rubber of the golf club grip as you say nothing. Their laughter continues to swirl the atmosphere around you, the sound of the birds and the buzzing cicadas drowning out amidst their cackles. The sun beams entirely too bright down over you, the artificial grass seeming to turn an even more obnoxious shade of green as you wait for them to finish.

“Better hope this one’s not disloyal,” Kwang says amidst his jokes, nudging your upper thigh with the tip of his own golf club. “That’s a lot of planning down the drain.”

And somehow the words trigger the familiar arrhythmic beat in your chest, flashbacks of Minho crossing your mind instantaneously. It’s like they know, the way their jokes seem to run on forever, their wicked cackling taunting you with every passing second. They speak of your form and your position, and you can’t help but picture the way Minho had you sprawled over the bed for you, his toned body looming over yours as he fucked you like he was consummating a marriage.

Beads of sweat trickle down your forehead as the sun glares over you, and the feeling is reminiscent of your sweaty bodies tangled together in the confined space of the tent. Was it you who came first? Was it Minho? The details are a little blurry right now as you try to steady your breathing, every single fear coming to life as you use your golf club to keep upright.

Disloyal. Another man. Cheater.

Their words replay in your mind and produce offspring of new ones, alluding to implications of broken trust and shattered plans. Hypothetical talks of one whole year of planning down the drain, another man with his hands all over you fulfilling Jung’s role in his absence and improving your form.

They know. They know you cheated, this is Jung’s way of humiliating you in front of his closest friend before he publicly calls off the marriage. He’s going to confront you about it any second now. He’s going to drag Minho’s name through the mud, and possibly also his corpse when he’s done with him-

“Y/n?” A voice interrupts, and your head snaps in the direction of their still gazes. The atmosphere is quiet now, birds chirping overhead once more, cicadas buzzing rhythmically in the distance again.

“Huh?”

“You want to forfeit your turn?” Jung asks with a chuckle. “We’ve been waiting for you to start for ten minutes now.”

Your gaze falls down to your hands, gripped tightly around the rubber of the club still, the ball remaining immobile on the little red tee.

“Uh, sure,” you reply, handing the golf club to Jung as he shakes his head.

You watch with an embarrassed expression as Jung grasps the club skillfully, pulling back and twisting his heel as he produces a robust hit, the ball lifting off its tee and soaring into the distance over the green hill.

“She can’t be disloyal,” Jung says with a chuckle, as he prods you with his golf club for the nth time today. “She can’t even complete one round successfully. Any other man would’ve taught her that’s not how you golf.”

*

At the one week mark since you’ve seen Minho, he’s aware something is wrong. You haven’t picked up his calls, haven’t responded to a single one of his texts, and you feign tiredness or some made up illness when he offers to stop by at hours he knows Jung isn’t home. But you don’t entertain any of it, fearing still that Jung knows, and that this is going to be the end of your marriage.

A fleeting physical endeavor caused by your fiancé’s stubbornness, and yet it’s effectively going to be the end of what was supposed to be your entire future. Seeing Minho will only reignite every fear present inside of you, causing it to coax the truth out of you and confront your fears in the presence of Jung.

The fear of what a lifetime of marriage implies. Are you meant to feel like teenagers in love for the entirety of it? Do the fights last a lifetime? Are you supposed to find a middle ground, or will there always be a need for somebody like Minho to provide some clarity and help you rekindle things to the best of your abilities?

What if in a week, you hate the cake flavor you’ve picked? What if you find yourselves so comfortable it doesn’t feel like love anymore? What if you spend a lifetime picturing it’s Minho fucking you instead of Jung, just to get off at night?

What happens to the marriage then? Does the love fizzle out until it’s a comfortable state of tolerance, one in which you’re sacrificing happiness for stability? Or does it simply exist somewhere else- or with somebody else? What’s implied by a lifetime of this?

Minho’s always been a worrier at heart, though, and he won’t let up until he’s certain your relationship to him isn’t at risk of dissipating, too. So at 11pm on a Friday, when he knows Jung is out with the same group of friends, he makes his move to confront you.

The living room is completely quiet at this hour, a soft ticking noise from the clock overhead as you flip past a page in your book. A romance novel, one littered with smut and cheesy dialogue, true to the lonely housewife you’re already conditioning yourself to be. And as your gaze falls over the first sentence of a new chapter, a knocking at the front door interrupts you.

It’s not Jung- it can’t be at this hour, his return home always signaled by his loud stumbling through the doorway, the jingling of his keys and drunken steps over the shoes he so conveniently forgets to put on the shoe rack.

You wrap your arms around the knit holes of your sweater, approaching the door hesitantly. It’s likely one of Jung’s friends, late to the party, or even one of your own girlfriends, here for a late night gossip session. But when you unlatch the door and pull it open, your heart drops at the sight of Minho, his hands shoved in his pockets and his figure standing slouched as his head looks up to meet your gaze.

“Hi,” says Minho, giving you a thin-lipped smile.

You give him a small nod, unsure of what to reply.

He looks handsome tonight, in a dark denim jacket and a pair of jeans. His golden-brown tresses fall loosely around his chiseled face, and his eyes look a little tired, like he hasn’t gotten much sleep.

“Minho,” you say plainly, fidgeting with a loose hem on the inside of your sleeve. “What are you doing here?”

Minho shrugs, peering into the doorway behind you, and then his eyes lock on yours again.

“I never taught you how to gut a fish,” Minho replies.

“I was just- what?”

“A fish,” Minho repeats. “I never taught you how to gut one.”

“Yeah, because we didn’t catch any,” you reply, a short chuckle escaping your lips.

“I know,” Minho says. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over and gut one.”

“Now?” You reply, glancing at the darkened street behind him. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, and Jung isn’t home until early morning. There’s a salmon defrosting on my counter as we speak, assuming the cats haven’t gotten to it. And I was wondering if you wanted to gut it.”

And he’s doing that thing again, where he takes the problem at hand and makes it so much more miniscule than it actually is. This state between disloyalty and tension you feel toward Jung, and the conflicting feelings you have toward Minho and the trip’s subsequent events. But he doesn’t address any of that- instead, he takes issue with you never having gotten to gut a fish. And that’s a relief, when you think about the other option of verbally confronting the emotions you keep at bay.

“Is it messy?” You ask with a little smile.

“It’s messy,” Minho replies.

“What if I’m bad at it?”

“Then you’re bad at it. But I’ll help you. Mess and all.”

You turn around to peer back into the hallway, at the book lying open and flat on the couch, the second hand on the clock moving painfully slow and the dim lamp illuminating the room around you. There’s not much of anything to stick around for, not when Jung’s still going to be out for hours on end. And not when a part of you is dying to confront the situation with Minho in the privacy of his place.

“You can’t laugh if I’m bad,” you say to Minho as you turn back to face him, slipping on your shoes in the process

“I won’t laugh,” he retorts. “No promises, of course.”

*

Two hours later, the kitchen is littered with napkins, plates, gloves, filet knives and scales. Minho walks you through how to remove the roe and the milt, discarding them for you as you prep your filet knife. He verbally instructs you how to descale the fish, and when you make minimal progress, he guides your hand up and down the length of the salmon with his, giving a little nod as the scales fall off with ease and uncover the smooth finish beneath.

He’s understanding when your reluctant hands fail to cut through to the back bone, chuckling lightly as he helps you cut that, too. And when you successfully pluck the remainder of the pin bones with tweezers, he nods proudly, giving you a thumbs up as you dispose of the fish parts and slide the plate of pink slabs to him across the counter.

“You did really well,” Minho says comfortingly. “You’re very attentive to detail. I don’t think there’s a single pin bone still on there.”

“It’s a little gross,” you say, shaking off your hands and chuckling lightly.

“But the end result will be worth it,” he replies. “Somebody plucked the pin bones off every filet you’ve eaten.”

You hit his arm lightly, as he laughs, coating the slabs in seasoning as you pull your gloves off.

“Minho,” you voice nervously, as he keeps his attention on the plate of fish in front of him.

“Hm?”

“Should we… talk about what happened?”

He sprinkles dried parsley atop the filet, not looking at you as you hold your breath for an answer.

“We can talk about it,” Minho replies simply. “Or we can choose not to. It was just a favor I ran you.”

You nod in response, watching as he swaps out parsley for onion powder and sprinkles lightly.

“Can we talk about it?” You say finally, twiddling your thumbs together.

Minho sets down the glass jar, turning to face you and pulling off his gloves, too.

“Sure,” he says, leaning back against the counter and giving you his undivided attention. Your heartbeat quickens momentarily at the sight of him focusing solely on you, and you struggle to find the words to say. But Minho is faster, taking reins of the conversation and breaking the deafening silence between you two.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Minho finally says, a kind of sadness evident in his tone.

“I was scared,” you reply. “I felt like Jung knew. It could ruin all of our wedding plans.”

“There’s no way he can find out,” Minho says. “I haven’t said a word to anyone. Unless you felt inclined to say something-”

“God, no,” you reply quickly. “I wouldn’t dare say anything.”

“Good,” Minho then says. “Then it was just a mistake in the heat of the moment. There’s nothing to worry about.”

And somehow the words sting a little, this conclusion that the affair was a mistake. Was it a mistake? You’re not sure- though you are sure of the complete sense of ease it instilled in you, and the fact that it hasn’t left your mind in a whole week.

“Are we okay?” You ask him, a nervous expression painting your face as you wait for an answer.

And Minho nods confidently, pulling on a fresh set of gloves as he reaches for the salt and pepper shakers.

“We’re fine,” Minho reassures. “If you think anything is getting in the way of a decade of you being stuck with me, then you’re mistaken.”

You laugh lightly, pulling on another pair of gloves too and joining Minho in front of the plate of fish.

“You want to pan fry this?” Minho asks, changing the subject. “I’ll walk you through it.”

Your eyes scan the well-seasoned strips of salmon, and then Minho’s comforting figure beside you, as he slides you a pair of tongs.

“Yeah,” you say to him. “Let’s finish this thing.”

Minho’s right- the end result is worth it. The fish is tender, well-seasoned, paired beautifully with his favorite bottle of white wine over an old comedy movie.

And everything feels like it’s back to normal once more as you sit beside him, your plates completely void of food as you finish your glasses of wine and sit back comfortably.

As the end credits roll, Minho lowers the volume, but he doesn’t shut off the television yet, taking another sip from his glass as your gazes fix on the names disappearing on screen.

Your eyes scan Minho’s mostly-vacant walls, at the things and the stuff he’s moved around. And he has, a couple new photographs displayed neatly on the wall in gold frames.

Most of them are black and white photographs you recognize to be cityscapes. And among the collage, placed right in the middle, the only photo with an ounce of color catches your eye.

“Shirakawa,” you say to Minho, cocking your head at the photograph.

It’s a wide shot of the town, bright green grass contrasting the traditional brown farmhouses that span the entirety of the landscape.

“Mhm,” Minho affirms, giving a little nod as he looks over the photograph, too.

You remain like that for a moment, reveling in the view, and then you finally break the comfortable silence once more.

“Could you tell me about it?” You ask him sweetly. “Just anything.”

Minho thinks back to the facts of Shirakawa he stores in the corner of his mind for a moment, sorting through facts and tales he’s held onto since college. Little stories he’s always wished to pass along again one day.

“Those are called Gasshō-Zukuri houses,” Minho says. “Which directly translates to hands in prayer.”

You cock your head in the other direction, nodding at his words, and seeing exactly what he speaks of. The houses do resemble two hands in prayer, the triangular thatched roofs almost reminiscent of a church’s.

“The roofs were designed to prevent heavy snowfall,” he continues. “Which the town is notorious for receiving. But apparently it’s like a little winter land when you’re there.”

His voice trails off a little at the last syllable, getting quiet again as he folds his hands in his lap.

“Which is pretty cool,” Minho finishes, pulling back from divulging too much information about the town he could go on about forever.

And he doesn’t know you’d gladly listen to him talk about it forever, being continuously fascinated with his appreciation for the centuries-old town across the world from you two. You nod in response to his words, imagining the winters those tucked away in that little town must experience- blankets of snow and freezing temperatures, and yet so warm inside those historical homes loved by people all around the world.

“We’ll go one day,” you say to Minho finally, turning to meet his gaze.

He turns to look at you, too, a somber expression on his face as he listens to you speak.

“We’ll go to Shirakawa one day. I promise it.”

Minho swallows nervously, well aware of how close you are to him on the couch now. Your face at such a close distance to him, your limbs resting right beside each other as his eyes flicker over your parted lips.

Minho engages in the nervous habits he always does, blinking nervously a few times and toying with the lobe of his ear. But he doesn’t act on anything, not wanting to push the boundaries you’ve practically just set in place. The same boundaries that concluded it was a mistake in the heat of the moment. So then why do you feel so inclined to kiss him all over again, let your body tangle with his and ease your stress as he assists in confronting all your fears preceding the wedding? Why does the idea of a lifelong commitment feel so much less intimidating when you’re in the presence of Minho? And what are you doing having these thoughts about your best friend when you’re getting married to somebody else in a month?

Thoughts that fail to induce an answer from you- instead interrupted and subsequently silenced by your lips on Minho’s again, kissing him with such desperation the way you did before.

And though desperate, it's still tender, his eyes shutting instinctively as his hands cup your cheeks and pull you closer. And you’ve nowhere to go but his lap, straddling his waist with your legs as you refuse to break away from the kiss, your kisses turning hungrier by the second as his hands find your waist.

This implication to fuck you is far greater this time, a pressing urge between the two of you to mirror the night’s actions and confirm it really did happen. That he did fuck you that night in your tent, and that you both came with each other and for each other, your bodies releasing the pent-up frustration you’re now certain has existed for years.

“Is this okay?” Minho begins to ask, his hands grazing your sides, and your kisses trail down his neck to provide a clear answer to his concern.

“Please,” you plead, nibbling a light bruise into his flesh. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty-”

“I don’t,” you say, moving to meet his lips again. “It feels so right with you. Please, could we do it again?”

Minho’s breath hitches in his throat as you palm him over the fabric of his jeans, his erection already visible for you.

“I want to,” Minho gasps. “But you’re getting married. I don’t want you to make another mistake-”

“It was never a mistake,” you say breathlessly. “Not the first time, not now. It feels so different with you. Do you feel it too?”

You pull away momentarily, hands cupped around the back of his neck as you wait for his answer. And Minho shoots a nervous smile in response; sheepishly toying with his hair as he struggles to voice his feelings.

“I… do,” Minho begins. “But I want you to-”

“Don’t worry about me,” you say, leaning in to resume pressing kisses along his neck. “Just fuck me like he doesn’t exist,” you finish, your lips working against his once more and guiding his hands down to your waist.

Although you were the one worried of getting found out, you can’t keep your distance from him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you all over again. Coaxing your own arousal out of you, encouraging you to forget all about him the way you’ve been trying to do in the absence of Minho. But with him here in front of you, you know the only way to shut Jung out of your mind is to fill it with thoughts of Minho, and Minho and more Minho.

“I… can do that…” Minho says with another nervous chuckle, as you unzip his jeans and palm him through his boxers.

“Call me something other than my name,” you say to him, pressing a series of chaste kisses to his lips. “Say it like I’m yours.”

And Minho reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling away again to look into your eyes.

“Baby?” He questions nervously, eliciting a smile from you.

“Yeah. Like that.”

“Yeah, baby?” He says again, reciprocating confidently now as you stroke him over his boxers. “You want me to make you forget about him?”

“Please,” you beg again. “You’re so much better than him.”

And amidst the ego boost, Minho can feel his cock swell, painfully hard in your firm grasp now as you stroke him.

“Wait,” Minho says, wincing slightly as you slow your movements. “I don’t want to cum yet.”

“Then hurry up and fuck me,” you smirk down at him, looping your fingers in the waistband of his jeans and tugging slightly. And Minho sits up straighter, smirking back, as he moves to press you down against the couch and hover over you.

“You want me to fuck you?” Minho asks, using one hand to tug his jeans down to his thighs. “God, you haven’t stopped thinking about it, haven’t you?”

“Not once,” you admit, wrapping two arms around his neck and pulling him down toward you. “I would’ve asked you to fuck me years ago if I knew what I was missing out on.”

The two of you share giggles as his jeans are discarded on the floor, followed by his t-shirt, and then your pants and your t-shirt, leaving him in just his boxers, and you in your bra and panties.

Minho lowers himself against your clothed core, rubbing ever so gently against you to provide some relief to his aching shaft as he works his kisses against your drooly lips. And he smiles in between every slight movement, completely satisfied at the fact that it’s him rubbing against you like this and taking care of you instead of Jung. For the second time this month.

The idea that Jung is completely clueless to this game you play behind his back, that he still comes home thinking you belong to anyone except Minho. Both in mind and body, your entire being is intertwined with Minho in every way possible.

And you both know it, judging by the way you grab at each other like a pair of horny teenagers on a first date, trying everything in your ability to hold onto the feeling. Also by the way he’s so patient and forgiving with his movements, stil careful not to move too fast in case you decide you want to stop. And an unspoken promise between the two of you, that no matter what happens, the friendship will remain, that it simply can’t slip through your fingers after a decade of promises to each other.

“Let’s go to Shirakawa,” you say to Minho in a whisper, finally tugging his boxers down and freeing his erection against abdomen.

“You want to?” Minho asks, tugging your panties down, too.

“Yes, I want to,” you reply. “We’ve talked about it for so long. Tell me what we’ll do there.”

“Well we’ll definitely go fishing,” Minho begins, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he discards your panties on the floor beside you. “And I’ll help gut all the salmon with you.”

“Mhm,” you voice in a dreamy tone, massaging his hair with the tips of your fingers.

“And then we can see all the animals there,” he continues, positioning himself over you and lifting your leg a little to get a better angle. His hand massages gentle circles in your inner thigh, careful not to enter without ensuring you’re comfortable first.

“And when it snows,” Minho says. “We’ll be trapped inside. But we can occupy the little attic space, where the walls slant inwards. And I promise to make love to you until it stops snowing.”

“When does it stop snowing?” You ask, as Minho pumps his cock gently over you and positions himself in front of your entrance. He chuckles lightly as he leans in to kiss you, your entrance quickly swallowing his tip and caressing his girth with your arousal as he leans in to push himself even further.

“It doesn’t,” Minho replies finally, thrusting himself into you and letting his hands find the small of your back to steady himself. You let out a fervent moan at the sensation, quickly drunk on the feeling all over again. The mesmerizing sensation of his body hovering over you, of his cock inside of you, exactly the way you remembered it from the other night.

And it’s not right, but it feels so right to have him those close to you again, your best friend closing the gap of uncertainty between you and shutting you up with the confirmation that your souls have always belonged to each other this way.

“Fuck, Minho,” you breathe out, beads of sweat dripping down your temples as he buries himself to the hilt inside of you and holds it there, pulsating harshly against your cervix.

“Will you go faster?” You ask him, running your fingertips down his back in encouragement.

“Are you sure?” he says between labored breaths, still careful not to hurt you.

“Please,” you practically beg. “I’m so eager for you, please just do something about it, baby.”

Minho’s eyebrows raise a little at the utterance of a pet name. He’s never heard it from you- not in all your years of friendship. He’s hardly secured a nickname from you in all that time. And yet here you are now, taking him so fully obediently, throwing words like baby at him and begging him to fuck you so that you won’t have to think about Jung.

“Baby?” Minho says curiously, capturing your lips in a kiss.

“Baby,” you reply, rutting your hips up against his as he begins to move a little faster. “Baby, and honey, and fiancé.”

Minho chuckles a little at the last word, cocking his head as he digests your response.

“Fiancé?”

“Yeah,” you say back between little moans that escape your lips. “If we were in Shirakawa I think we’d be engaged. And you could fuck me whenever you wanted to.”

Minho feels his cock twitch at your words, his mind running rampant with the fantasy of being engaged to you. The implication of a lifetime of this, fucking you sweetly in the comfort of a shared home and coaxing all your stress out of you. And furthermore, a lifetime of you- of being dragged to all your favorite bars, takeout meals and cheap comedy movies, camping when the leaves turn orange and gutting salmon alongside you.

A lifetime of security, stability. One of sheer, unwavering happiness.

“What a dream that would be,” Minho voices, moving a little faster at your words now.

“You think?”

“I know,” he affirms, his hands finding the mounds of your breasts and cupping them gently to unclasp your bra.

“What a fucking dream it would be to have you like this every night.”

Your bra is promptly discarded alongside you on the couch, the cool air grazing your erect nipples as he brings his mouth down to latch around one in gentle sucking motions. You can feel yourself clench around his cock, taking in the sight of his drooly lips wrapped around your chest and working you in eager motions. It’s still the same Minho you recognize from years ago- still the dorky, yet handsome figure of permanence always present somewhere in your life. And it feels even less unnatural than the last time you slept with him, simply instilling another wave of eased stress and tranquility deep inside of you. It’s like this is supposed to be the relationship between the two of you now- you live your life catering to the stubborn, unmoving personality of Jung’s. Minho tends to his monotonous life away from you. And when you reunite once more, relishing in tales of your separate lives from each other and laughing over glasses of chenin blanc, he concludes the night with a slow, intimate session of love-making, one to seal the promise between your souls that regardless of where the future takes you, this is still permanent.

Neither the college girls Minho’s fucked so well, nor the shitty men you promise yourself to could come between that. And it’s a comfortable truth you both come to terms with as he gives himself to you so lovingly and wholly.

“Are you close?” Minho asks, moving to your lips once more and indulging you in a slow, sensual kiss.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, wrapping your arms around his neck a little stabler and bringing your gaze down to his cock, where he disappears inside of you with complete ease.

“Where do- fuck- where do you want me to finish?” Minho asks, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. “I don’t want to pose any risks to you right now.”

And he’s right, both of you knowing very well that just because you’ve addressed your mutual attraction to each other, doesn’t mean you can run around with Minho’s arousal catching in your walls like you just aren’t engaged.

You still have a wedding to tend to, another person to return home to and a promise in the eventual holy sanctity of marriage that Jung is your only lover. But right now that no official certificate holds you to that, you can’t find it inside you to care, wanting nothing more than to be filled by Minho, and Minho and more Minho, and yet knowing it’s simply not a possibility.

“Wherever you want,” you finally breathe out, placing the option in the hands of Minho. Your breasts, your mouth. Inside of you. You don’t care- all you care is that he’s here, and he’s upholding his end of sealing the permanence between you two.

Minho gives a few particularly harsh thrusts, and then he brings a hand to the base of his cock, pulling out carefully and wincing as he staves off his orgasm. Your hands remain wrapped around the back of his neck, your gaze fixed on his as he works himself in quick strokes and leans in to kiss you.

“Can we go to Shirakawa?” You ask him again tenderly, as he continues to pump himself over your lying figure.

“Of course we can,” Minho responds with a sweet smile, his breaths labored as he nears his finish. “We can go wherever you want.”

“As long as you’re there,” you say to him, smiling up at him as he leans forward to kiss you again.

“As long as it’s the two of us,” Minho clarifies. “We can go anywhere.”

His eyes shut once more, his long eyelashes grazing his eyelids as his lips part open, and then he lets out a whimpered moan as he finally reaches his finish, coating your stomach in the milky white release of his orgasm. He kisses you when he finishes, smiling against your lips as he brings a hand down between you and rubs your clit in gentle, circular motions.

Your moans turn whimpered, too, as you reach your finish, clenching around what you wish was his cock and letting go for him.

And the credits on the television reach their end, transitioning to the hushed echo of a commercial playing. But neither of you are in any rush to leave or clean up just yet, allowing your listless bodies to intertwine lazily on the sofa as your giggles fill the quiet space between you and reverberate off the walls with such mutual fondness.

*

Mondays are heavy with work. Tuesdays, Jung works late. Wednesdays and Thursdays are dedicated time for his friends from college, and every day after that is a toss-up, but they’re often days you spend with Jung, watching movies in your apartment, going on little dates or in uncomfortable silence alongside him as he spills details of his work and his friends.

And he believes this to be your schedule, because he’s clueless otherwise.

Mondays are really for late-night phone calls with Minho, where you run off to the patio for a few minutes of privacy while Jung catches up on sports broadcasts. Tuesdays, Minho cooks you intricate meals at his apartment, alongside old comedy movies and concluded always by his gentle love-making to you. Wednesdays and Thursdays feel like college again, Minho finally agreeing to accompany you to all your favorite bars again and paying for your drinks as he watches you dance for him, his hands all over you as the two of you exchange needy kisses for everybody to watch.

And though the lights by the bar are far too dim for anybody to recognize you’re out with somebody beside your fiancé, a part of you doesn’t care.

Bastard. Facilitator of cheating. Homewrecker.

Sometimes you and Minho joke about the names they’d call him if they found out. Every derogatory term under the sun, like they haven’t already thought it of him for being quieter than Jung’s douchebag friends. And yet they also fail to see he’s more kind, more attentive and more loving than any of them could ever bring to the table in the presence of their own wives.

You also know they won’t find out- not when you’re virtually invisible to Jung and his friends when he’s not showing you off like some trophy to be won. When corporate holiday parties arise, or the need for an even number of golf participants makes itself known, Jung’s there without hesitation, grasping your hand between his clammy fingers and recounting days of when you’d met.

And yet none of his stories involve the present you. They fail to include your successes at work, or the books you’ve taken a liking to recently, or even the valiant efforts you’ve put into decorating your shared space with him, despite his complete lack of assistance. His stories of you exclude the liking you’ve taken to “yoga retreats” recently. And they definitely don’t know you can gut a fish like your life depends on it.

“This wine is better than the last one,” you say to Minho, as he pours himself a glass and slips a crystal stopper into the spout.

“It cost me less than the loaf of bread,” Minho replies with a breathy chuckle. “I don’t think we’ll ever stop favoring cheap convenience store wine.”

You swirl the cherry red color around in your glass, admiring the way the liquid forms a little whirlpool and settles once again, the strong scent wafting upward in the process.

“Notes of cherry, wood, french vanilla and… pocket money,” you say to Minho wafting the scent up even further with a wave of your hand.

He laughs at your words, taking a sip from his own glass and smacking his lips together once.

“Undertones of fruit and nuttiness. And maybe penny pinching, like in our college days,” Minho replies, the two of you chuckling as you set your glasses down.

You look out at the view from his balcony window, the darkened sky providing little to see at this hour, but still outlining the silhouettes of the trees and the bushels that line his apartment terrace.

“The time passed us by so fast,” Minho says in a somber tone, not turning to face you. You keep your gaze on the trees outside, thinking over your shared actions over the past few weeks. It’s been nothing short of thrilling going behind Jung’s back the way you do, but you’re also aware that with every meetup, you’re a day closer to tying the knot with Jung, preparing for a lifetime of permanence alongside the same person you’ve never felt so unsure about before now.

You turn to face him finally, a sad smile on your face as he waits for your answer.

“I wish we did something about this earlier,” you respond finally, taking note of the glow in his eyes as you speak. He looks marvelous at this proximity to you, so attainable and so enchanting all at the same time.

“Did something about what?”

“This,” you emphasize. “Us.”

Minho blinks nervously a few times, and then he cocks his head slightly as he waits for you to continue, too scared to affirm your words with thoughts of his own first.

“All this time I was trying to validate the fears inside of me surrounding this wedding,” you explain to him. “And then there was you, the same person who makes them nearly nonexistent. I wish we did something about it earlier so that maybe the fear was just lessened to begin with.”

Minho nods nervously, as he understands very well now that you’re on completely separate pages.

Minho, who wishes he could shake some sense into you and confess that this isn’t just some physical endeavor soul-searching the way it is for you- that he’s so madly in love with you, and that he chases the reminder of your permanence because the ivy that constricts his veins will surely kill him in your absence.

And thus, he takes what he can get- you, at your most vulnerable moments, unloved and uncherished by Jung, just seeking a kindly ear and maybe a warm body to remind you that there is some semblance of comfort to be felt in the interim.

And yet you, who only partakes in this fleeting act of physical yearning because you’re scared of commitment to Jung, who maybe doesn’t fulfill you every way you wish he would all the time. So you go behind his back, and you chase the fulfillment yourself, and you act upon the fears and the anxieties that have always circled your mind in the presence of Minho.

Maybe he likes you, maybe he’s jealous, maybe he wants to fuck you.

Statements you’ve heard throughout the entirety of your friendship, ones you couldn’t help but ponder, too, as Minho would grow painfully quiet with Jung in the room. But ones you always brushed off, telling yourself that the two just don’t click. And yet the arousal present with the fear makes for some of the most pleasurable moments together in the privacy of Minho’s home, albeit for Minho, on time begged and borrowed from you. The affair with Minho is not indicative of permanence in any form, and yet it exists to confront your very fear of permanence.

Selfish? Surely. Contradictory? In every sense of the word. The concerns raised to you by Minho himself in any way? Never.

So it remains, this tragic cycle of sleeping with your best friend behind your fiancé’s back, blind to the fact that he’s irrevocably in love with you, in a comfortable state of mind knowing that at least you’ll have felt this state of peace for even just a finite amount of time before you give yourself away to the marriage completely.

And yet it’s a beautiful thing in essence, this shared love between the two of you. A trust instilled so deeply on both sides to give yourselves away to each other every night and close a chapter of what once was, regardless of the differences in how it’s perceived.

The incandescent glow Minho’s tender embraces bring forth in you, no matter the fact that he’s simply grieving a very real, living love that still exists between the two of you. Green leaves of ivy that constrict his throat and force words back down them again, so that he may never admit that he’s jealous, and it’s you, it’s always been you. The same suffocating feeling he ponders late at night, asking himself why he’s been so magnificently cursed to only love you under these circumstances, and never in ones that promise him your permanence in return.

But when you're across from him, a glass of cheap wine in hand and your gentle laughter accompanying his, he can’t help but embrace the grand feeling- tarnished, but still grand.

“Maybe it worked out the way it was supposed to,” Minho settles on saying. “Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be more than this little period of time.”

And there’s a pang of pain in his chest as he utters the words, but he’s met with your small nod in response, visibly comforted by the prospect of his implications.

“Hey,” you say after a moment of silence, sitting up straight and swirling your glass of wine around in your hand again. “There’s a dinner thing Jung’s hosting with some people from the guest list. Don’t say you didn’t get the invite.”

Minho exhales with an audible groan, slouching back in his chair and running his hands through his hair.

“I don’t even like his cooking,” Minho admits frustratedly. “He’s just going to make me feel like an idiot the whole night.”

“But I want you there,” you say to him in a pleading tone. “You’re my best friend. I can’t do this stuff without you.”

“I know you can’t,” Minho replies. “And I don’t want you to have to. But it’s going to be awkward, and painful.”

“I won’t let him cross any boundaries,” you reason with him. “I’ll diffuse anything that comes up. I just want you there, even if it means you’re going to sit there and say nothing. Even that would make me happier than seeing your empty chair all night.”

Minho groans again, swirling his own glass of wine around in his hands and averting your gaze. He’s quiet for a long moment, and then he speaks again, in a reluctant voice.

“He would kill me if he found out, you know. We would never see each other again.”

You feel your heart sink at his words, even the thought of it beyond unnerving to you.

“Why do you say that suddenly?”

“Just… thinking,” Minho finishes.

“Well he has no way of knowing,” you console him. “And I promise to keep things civil.”

Minho thinks for a moment, wanting to press you for more answers about what this even is, about why you’re choosing to let him waste his time like this and what possessed him to agree to attend your pre-wedding dinner as the other man.

But he says nothing, letting a generous sip of alcohol serve as the answer to the requests you press him for- yes, of course he’ll be there, albeit with his long list of fears and reservations. But he’ll do anything, twice even, at your behest.

*

The ebony wood dining table looks particularly elegant when it’s set up for guests. You line the seats with ceramic white platters, shiny silverware and iridescent glasses, paying special attention to even minute details, such as the direction of the prongs for each fork you place on white nylon napkins. Mixed peonies and birchwood make up the long centerpiece, and tall white taper candles are lit in the bronze candleabras.

And the mood is largely set by the guests, who laugh loudly around the table with glasses of expensive beverages in their hands. They speak of their jobs, and their spouses and pop culture references you can’t be bothered to pay attention to. Your eyes scan the emptiness in their eyes, most of them living lives you can tell they’ve simply settled for. And you wonder, briefly, if they’ve ever experienced the unwavering happiness you do in the presence of Minho. Do they ever crack open a bottle of convenience store wine? Do they still let loose at clubs every now and then? Could they gut a fish if they caught one?

You respond to their stories with little nods and fake chuckles, and your head snaps in every direction past your guests to the front door.

Minho’s fashionably late tonight, or at least you hope he is, still holding on to the promise that he’s going to be here. And Minho’s many things- but he’s not dishonest. He’ll show if he says he will, albeit for a few minutes each time when it involves Jung. But he’ll still show, dropping by with a timid smile and greeting the audience before sending you off with a lousy excuse again and leaving his spot vacant for the remainder of the evening. But tonight is different- tonight he’s here as the other man. And you can’t decipher whether that indicates a change in his subsequent actions, that perhaps he won’t show after all, and you’ll be left to your own devices with Jung and his obnoxious friends.

“… And one of our clients is an intern this quarter,” Jung says loudly, as he rants about his work in typical fashion. “Which means I’m going to be carrying most of our partnership.”

The guests laugh and raise their glasses, and you can’t help but wonder how on earth the comment warrants even an ounce of laughter. As Kwang’s wife begins to voice a response, the doorbell rings once, and your head snaps in the direction of the echoing bell.

“I’ll get it,” you say quickly, rising from your seat and smoothing down your skirt. “Excuse me.”

The guests glance briefly in your direction, and then turn their attention back to Jung, who begins to voice another chronicle of his inadequate colleagues. As you march down the hallway, your heart quickens in your chest, admittedly a little nervous to confront Minho after the recent events. You wonder if he’s going to be more awkward, or maybe even shut down entirely around the group. Maybe he’s just here to drop off another cake and send you off with a wave. Endless possibilities you’ve never had to consider when you weren’t actively sleeping with him. You unlatch the front door, taking a deep breath, and then pull it open, your gaze falling instantly onto the standing figure.

And it’s a wave of comfort when he smiles at you, his eyes forming little crescents as he grins and exposes his endearing set of skewed teeth, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he does. He’s much more dressed up tonight, in a black collared button down and a black tie, his light brown tresses framing his chiseled jawline so well. And seeing him is more exciting than any other guest you’ve seen tonight, a present urge to pepper him in kisses and remain right here alone, with him.

“Hey,” Minho says in a shy voice.

“Hi,” you respond, trying to stifle the giddy expression on your face from the guests around you who might be looking. “I saved you a seat,” you continue. “Come on.”

Minho enters reluctantly, glancing around the room and giving a small nod to the guests as you direct him to the vacant seat beside you. And somehow, he looks a little more confident, his posture much straighter and a knowing smile on his face as he occupies the seat beside you.

“Hi,” he says to the guests as they meet his gaze, and he even gives a small nod to Jung, who shoots him a subtle scowl.

“Jung,” Minho voices, gesturing to the table. “Pleased to be here.”

Jung just nods at Minho, and then goes back to telling a story of his business accounts.

But your attention is everywhere except for Jung’s story, hardly even able to take your gaze off Minho’s. His eyes sparkle under the hanging pendant lamp, his lips pulling into a little smirk as you watch him with such fascination. There’s something so enticing about the prospect that nobody here knows he’s fucked you, several times since the last time they saw him, and he’ll likely do it tonight when Jung thinks you’re out with a group of girlfriends. They don’t know the world you two have effectively built together, romantic nights of cooking intricate dinners together over glasses of cheap wine. And they don’t know the history you two share, years of walking through your fears and uncertainty alongside one another and bettering yourselves in the process. He’s your other half in so many ways, and you’re not sure it’s something anybody except the two of you could even begin to comprehend.

You watch as Minho picks up a bottle of wine from the table, rotating it in his grasp and examining the contents. It’s one of Jung’s favorites, an expensive bottle of zinfandel he picks up from a special market a few hours out of the city. And it all tastes the same to you anyway, pairing just fine with steak or fish or even fast food at 3am. In fact, it’s subpar in comparison to Minho’s favorites, which taste like safe intimacy, laughing at comedy reruns and love-making under the warmth of his blankets.

“Anyways,” Jung voices loudly, finally garnering your attention from beside him. “We’ve never been more ready for this honeymoon. I need tropical weather and some margaritas.”

“Amen to that,” Kwang chimes in, raising his glass for the nth time tonight.

I hate warm weather, you want to say. I wish it was Shirakawa, under the safety of the prayer hands thatched roofs and blankets of snow.

“If we don’t come back, just know we opted to stay,” Jung then says. “I’ll stay golfing on the beach and you guys can tough out the rest of winter here.”

Cue the obnoxious laughter, fake smiles, raised glasses.

“You’ll have the whole trip to help on her form,” Kwang says loudly, gesturing over to you with the wine bottle in hand.

“We went golfing the other day, and let’s just say there’s ample time for improvement.”

Roaring laughter, unsightly grins and clinking glasses.

And Minho glances over at you, who keeps a smile on your face at the stupid remark.

It’s exactly this that keeps him from acting upon the urge- you look content. You don’t argue, you don’t maintain a blank expression. Instead you smile, and you agree with his friends and your eyes look like they’re still on the same page of devoting entirely yourself to this less-than-desirable relationship you flaunt. Minho knows he’s just a stepping stone in this chapter, and that he’s going to come out of this hurt. But he also knows that despite your fears, you’re content, and he’s not going to insert himself between the love that you deserve, though it may take a while to materialize fully.

You glance over at Minho with a nervous smile, silently hoping he’ll say something. Just ask me to run away with you, you want to say. Tell me to run, and I’ll meet you there. Wherever.

But you know he won’t dare, too set on the idea that this is still what you want. So he’ll remain like this, in the unfamiliar atmosphere of a dining table you share with another man, and he’ll let himself face what becomes of it in due time.

“Are you okay?” Minho asks quietly, leaning in to fill your glass with more expensive wine.

“Peachy,” you say with a smile. And one he returns, shooting you another gentle smile and nodding at your confirmation.

The two of you listen as Jung segues into another story about his business client, and Minho’s leather heel finds your ankle under the table, grazing it softly as you stifle a smile.

There’s no sexual implication rooted in his actions, maybe not not even romantic implication, as his heel moves up and down the back of your bare calf. It’s just a reminder to say this will always be of permanence.

*

Minho’s hands work up and down the sides of your waist as he kisses you, smiling against your lips as you slot yourself between his legs and grasp the back of his neck.

He kisses Jung’s expensive wine back into your mouth, the flavor complementing the mouthwatering look he sports this evening, and you have to remind yourself several times to slow down.

“This looks so good on you,” you say with a smile, fidgeting with his tie and loosening it from around his neck.

“It’s the same one I always wear,” Minho says with a chuckle. “I can’t be bothered to buy a new one.”

“Don’t buy a new one. I want this one. I want it to be this one every time.”

Minho laughs lightly, a form of verbal agreement, and then he pulls you a little closer to him, rubbing little circles in the small of your back as you stay close in his embrace. He’s sprawled out on his couch, strands of hair hanging delicately in his face as he steadies you in his hold over him, his pink lips visibly swollen from having kissed you for the better part of an hour now.

“Tell me something about Shirakawa,” you ask him innocently, unfastening the first few buttons of his collared dress shirt.

”Anything?” Minho responds, bringing an arm up to rest casually behind his head.

“Anything. Something dreamy.”

“Hm,” Minho hums in response. “There are rice fields, and lily ponds and green orchards,” he says finally. “We can walk through all of them without a care in the world, and we can get drunk off little glasses of sake.”

“And the whole town can be ours,” you chime in, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his toned chest.

“The whole town,” Minho echoes. “It can be whatever we want it to be.”

“As long as you’re there,” you tell him, trailing your kisses lower and undoing the line of buttons as you near his navel

“Anything you want,” Minho exhales in a dreamy tone. “Say it and it’s yours.”

His eyes shut instinctively as the last of his buttons are undone, exposing his chest to you and promptly covered in eager kisses as you trail down to his hardening cock in his pants.

And his arms rest lazily behind his head, feeling completely taken care of, so needy always for your delicate touch. Your nimble fingers work to graze in slow back and forth motions over his flesh, and then you hoist yourself up a little higher to straddle your hips over his crotch.

“Thank you for showing up tonight,” you say to him in a sweet voice. “It means everything to me.”

“Anything you want,” Minho says for the second time tonight. “Say the word and I’m there.”

“You’re my best friend,” you voice to Minho. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

And the utterance of a friend doesn’t even sting for him anymore. It’s fact- you belong to each other, time and time again, as friends, and lovers in the evening, and everything else in between. He doesn’t fight it, because he’s grateful for any role he can play amidst the grand role you play in his.

“Are you hard?” You ask a little quietly, a knowing smile on your face as you rock your hips gently over his.

“A little,” Minho replies, though he’s in no rush to have you take care of it. It’s enough exactly like this, your bodies intertwined together and infatuated with each other in the secrecy of his home.

“You want me to take care of you?” You then ask, one hand trailing up to wrap lightly around his throat.

And as your slender fingers graze the column of his neck, it’s clear to you at this angle. Sticking out like a sore thumb, so glaringly wrong and indecent from this proximity.

Your left ring finger, completely bare, your engagement ring nowhere to be seen.

At first you’re sure you’re hallucinating, pulling your hand back quickly to examine the thin tan where your finger meets your knuckle, one that’s usually covered by the gleaming jewelry. But as you rotate your finger around under the dim lighting, you confirm it’s not in fact some illusion- your engagement ring is gone.

Minho sits up a little, craning his neck a little to examine your worried expression.

“Y/n?” He questions, taking note of the way your eyes remain fixed to your hand. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s not here,” you say simply.

“What? What’s not here?”

“My ring,” you say a little more panicked, climbing off him and glancing around the coffee table.

“Where’s my ring?” You question, moving aside stacks of books and magazines atop the glass table. Minho sits up, glancing around too, searching desperately for the little piece of silver jewelry.

“Let’s stay calm,” Minho says as he stands up. “It has to be around here. When was the last time you saw it?”

“I can’t remember,” you say in a panicked tone, now scrambling to the kitchen and searching the marble counters.

“Okay,” Minho says calmly. “Was it- do you ever take it off to wash it?”

“I never take it off,” you reply. “I never take it off, why the fuck isn’t it on my finger?”

“Let’s stay calm,” Minho repeats. “It has to be in here-”

“Calm?” You finally retort, turning to face him with tears pricking your eyes. “You want me to stay calm? Jung’s going to kill me, do you know how fucking expensive that thing was?”

“Of course,” Minho says, buttoning up his shirt as he continues to search. “Which is why we’re going to find it.”

And you don’t reply for several moments, still frantically scanning the kitchen counters for any sign of your ring. But it’s a moot point, every napkin you unball containing nothing, nothing in the trash cans Minho searches through, even the dishwasher thoroughly searched, to no avail.

And you can’t help but to cry, tears falling nonstop from the corners of your eyes as you rush about the kitchen and think of every worst-case scenario. This is it. Confronting Jung about it means he’s going to know what’s been going on, chew you out about the cost of the ring and your carelessness toward it. And then call off the wedding, and every single one of your friends will know you’re a cheater and a liar.

“It’s not fucking here,” you cry out to Minho, halting your movements to bury your face in the palms of your hands, letting yourself emit muffled sobs into the sleeves of your sweater.

“It has to be,” Minho says, glancing once more around the room, and then approaching you to pull you in for a hug.

“Don’t,” you order, pushing him away from you, and Minho furrows his brows together. “Just don’t fucking touch me right now.”

Minho gives a breathy chuckle, thinking at first you might be joking, and then his expression softens as he realizes you’re being completely serious.

“What- seriously? That’s it?” Minho questions.

“What?” You say with a choked sob. “I can’t find my fucking engagement ring. The one I was given to get married, in case you forgot. Sorry I’m not in the mood.”

Minho scoffs lightly, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head. And then he meets your gaze once more, a solemn expression on his face.

“What are we doing?”

“What?” You query in response.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Minho repeats. “What the fuck are you doing here if you’re getting married?”

You shrug frustratedly, wiping tears with the back of your hand and saying nothing in response.

“No, answer me,” Minho commands, his voice raising a little. “What are we doing, going behind his back like this? You come here almost every night spewing your bullshit about Shirakawa and suddenly it’s my fault that you can’t find your fucking engagement ring? I mean, who even cares?”

“Who cares?” You retort. “I do. I’m getting married-”

“Exactly,” he interrupts. “So then what the fuck are we doing? Go get married, for fuck’s sake. Will you just leave, for good then?”

“You want me to walk out of your life just because I’m getting married?”

“I want you to leave because I’m in love with you,” Minho says finally, and a deafening silence washes over you two.

For a moment, all that’s heard are your echoing sniffles and Minho’s heavy breathing, as he struggles to find the words to continue.

“You really don’t see it in the way I look at you? You really haven’t realized I’m only okay being the other man because I’ll take any fucking version of you I can get at this point?”

Your gaze fixes on his, taking note of the way tears prick at the corners of his eyes, too.

“I’ve been in love with you for all these years,” Minho says, his voice coming out in a choked sob. “And what a waste, all these talks of Shirakawa when I’ve known all along it was always going to be him in the end.”

His words circle your mind with a sense of urgency, as you struggle to respond.

You have known it, maybe even reciprocating by this point, but knowing that you can’t, not when you’re getting married in mere weeks. You’re happy, and you’re safe here with Minho. But in terms of love, this isn’t permanent. It’s a fleeting thing, one that has to end like this as you approach the next chapter of the rest of your life.

And yet it hurts, like a knife pierced deep into an existing wound, like thick vines of ivy that caress your veins and pull tightly with every thought of it being Minho all this time, all these years.

“I love you,” Minho says almost sheepishly, throwing his hands at his sides in defeat. “I’ve always loved you. I love you in loud bars and over cheap bottles of wine. And I’m jealous- god, I’m jealous,” Minho admits in a choked sob. “And it’s killing me. I can’t do anything about it except watch you plan a life with somebody I’ll spend the rest of my life wishing was me instead.”

Your lips part to say something, but you can’t, simply wiping the tears that fall onto the sleeve of your sweater.

“I love you in the hands of another man and I’ll still love you if you choose him. But I can’t do it at this proximity to you anymore.”

“Minho, please-”

“There’s nothing else,” Minho says, gasping back his tears. “This is it for us.”

You watch as he exhales deeply, wiping his tears and gesturing back to the kitchen.

“Did you check the soap dish?” Minho then says in a quiet voice.

“What?”

“The soap dish,” he clarifies somberly. “For your ring.”

And Minho watches as your gaze falls to the stainless steel soap dish across the room, a bristle pad sponge occupying the rectangular dish, alongside the familiar glint of your silver engagement ring.

One you removed to ensure you didn’t lose it among the plate of pin bones from the cod you helped Minho prepare. And one you hadn’t even realized has been missing from your finger for several hours now.

Your gaze falls back to Minho’s before you retrieve the ring, and his eyes are swollen and mournful. There’s not a glint of hope present between you two- not in friendship, and certainly not in love.

And neither of you say another word as you pivot on your heel to collect the symbol of yours and Jung’s ode to permanence.

*

The polyester-spandex mix of your reception dress is much itchier than you remembered it to be. It’s a simple white piece, long and cascading behind the heels you’ve chosen, a generous v-cut enhancing the curve of your breasts as you adjust the hem in the mirror.

“Is it more comfortable than your wedding dress?” One of the bridesmaids questions with a smile.

You shoot her a somber smile, nodding at her and fidgeting with the long sleeve of your dress.

“Yeah. It is.”

“It should be,” she responds kindly. “Remember, try not to step on the bottom or we’ll have to get it cleaned off before the real thing.”

You nod at her, checking your reflection once more in the full-length mirror across from you. You love the woman you embody- she looks elegant, and sure of herself and well on the path to a lifetime of stability and happiness.

And yet the girl inside of you can’t feel further from the perception.

You want nothing more than to climb out of the tight-fitting dress and leave all of this, damn this rehearsal dinner to hell and call off the wedding. But this is it- the final stretch. Guests at every corner assume their positions and practice where they’ll stand and how they’ll move about so elegantly as you say your vows.

Jung seems so sure of himself, adjusting the cuffs of his suit and shooting you a wink from across the room as you stare blankly. And you can’t reciprocate, still far too preoccupied with the events of last week to care about any of this. Minho sending you off, the ultimatum to choose between your fiancé and the best friend you’re in love with.

Of course you couldn’t choose Minho, whose role in most of this has been to help lessen your fears and prepare you for a lifetime of giving yourself to Jung. And yet somewhere along the way, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was even true, completely smitten with every part of him, too. The fact remains that you’re in love with him, and yet you’ve both been so magnificently cursed to keep it at a comfortable distance and pray that in some version of this story, it’s you guys in the end.

Your family saunters about the venue in their fancy dressed and suits, and your guests chat amongst themselves and sample the foods that have been laid out for them. And your mind circles with images of Minho, and Minho and more Minho. And what he would look like, instead of Jung, waiting at the end of the aisle for you with a toothy grin and tears in his eyes. The cheap wine you’d choose to cater, just a handful of guests the way you know he’d want it. And an innocent, undemanding love shared between the two of you, sealing your promise to each other with a tender kiss and his breathy laugh.

Yet the fantasy is fleeting, it’s rooted in the delusion of a cheater, in every sense of the word, and it would effectively ruin your life had it come to fruition.

“Which way do we go from here?” Jung questions loudly, and your head snaps up in his direction.

“From here you’ll go to the right, just past the foyer there,” a coordinator responds. “Make sure to smile when you’re walking down an aisle at any given point.”

Stupid. The whole thing feels stupid.

“Did you get that?” Jung questions, and you nod meekly.

“Sure.”

“Let’s take five,” a coordinator says, clasping her hands together.

Jung resumes a conversation with the groomsmen beside him, and your eyes fall to the vacant seat across the table, where Minho’s meant to be sitting. A small white folded card rests delicately on a white platter, his name scribbled in loopy cursive to reserve his spot.

Lee Minho.

And you read his name over a dozen times, replaying every last word of your conversation in your head and wondering what he’d do if he were here. Probably criticize the wine, or make faces at Jung’s phony speeches. And love you from afar, but with his entire heart, regardless.

“What do you think so far?” Jung leans in to whisper.

“Yeah,” you reply, nearly evading the question altogether.

Your eyes scan the room at the carefully placed decorations- rows of lantern lights, white tablecloths and organized dishes for the guests, tapered candles are lit at every table. And in the center, bushels of magenta flower arrangements in cylindrical glass vases.

Magenta.

Your eyes do a double take, carefully examining the color as you furrow your brows. Magenta. Neon, obnoxious shades of magenta at every table. Nothing within the realm of the baby pink you requested. Harsh on the eyes and contrasting repulsively against the rest of the decor.

“The flowers are magenta,” you say to Jung quietly.

“Hm?”

“The flowers,” you repeat. “Are magenta.”

“Yeah,” Jung says, audibly a little confused. “They’re nice, right?”

“I said pink,” you respond. “Baby pink. These aren’t pink.”

Jung furrows his brows together, and then he cocks his head at the floral displays set upon each table.

“You’re right,” he then replies. He snaps his fingers at a staff member, and then he gestures to the floral displays.

“These aren’t pink,” he says harshly. “She requested pink and not magenta. Could we get these swapped out, please?”

A coordinator jots something down in a small notepad, and then gives him an understanding nod.

“That’s what we’re paying you guys for, right?” Jung asks sarcastically. “Come on, don’t let us settle for magenta flowers.”

And when he turns back to you, his chuckles get quieter as he observes the displeased expression on your face.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” You ask him quietly.

“What?”

“Why are you ordering them around like that? They’re just flowers.”

“What? But you just said-”

“You never make things feel like less of a big deal,” you say quietly, a little scoff escaping your lips as you speak.

“What are you talking about?”

“You just take something and run with it. You don’t make things feel like less of a problem than they are. You’re supposed to comfort me, or find the good in magenta flowers. Not yell at the service workers.”

Jung laughs nervously, taking your words for a joke at first, and other guests begin to stare across the table as they watch you rise from your seat.

“And why is the wine so fucking expensive?”

“Please, sit down,” Jung says nervously, waving the guests off as they shoot him concerned looks.

“No, I don’t want to.”

And as you search for the words to say, your heart beating erratically, you realize it’s exactly this that you’ve stopped yourself from doing all this time. Fighting back. Using your voice the way Jung so comfortably weaponizes his against you. Letting your emotions spill out from the years they’ve been bottled up inside of you, and finally coming to terms with the fact that this isn’t the life you want at all.

It’s Minho you love, it’s always been Minho and it’s always going to be Minho.

“I don’t want this,” you say to Jung, as you smooth down your dress and stand up.

“Please, sit,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” you say in a shaky voice. “You don’t fulfill me, you haven’t touched me in weeks, I don’t think you even know that I asked for baby pink flowers, because you’re too busy showing off to all the shitty people you call friends. I don’t think we have ever been friends.”

All of the guests keep their gazes on you, taken aback by your words, but you don’t care, continuing your rant while they watch in horror.

“I hate expensive wine,” you say to Jung. “I want to go on a honeymoon somewhere it snows. I want to watch comedy movies, and go camping and be so madly in love it hardly feels like it some days, because we’re also such good friends when we’re not completely infatuated with each other.”

Jung doesn’t say anything, glancing nervously around the table as the coordinators maintain their silence, too. Your chest rises and falls with gasped breaths as you try to hold back from crying in front of them. And then you shrug, before finishing your speech.

“At the end of the day, there’s the man who tells me how to golf,” you say in a shaky voice. “And there’s the man who guts a fish alongside me, mess and all.”

Jung frowns at your words, visible confusion painting his features.

“What?”

“I have to go,” you say to him, sparing him any sort of explanation.

The hem of your dress is balled into the palms of your hands and pulled up to give yourself room to walk, as you kick off your heels and begin to exit the venue. And before you do leave, you pivot around one last time, letting your gaze meet Jung’s visibly irate expression.

“Here,” you announce, pulling the silver band off your ring finger and setting it down on the tablecloth.

“If you’re going to make a big deal out of anything, at least let it be this.”

*

The polyester-spandex mix of your reception dress isn’t made to run in. It’s much too long, the fabric bunches up at the sides and its bright white color begs to be kept indoors only. And yet you run- and you don’t stop, not even for a second, until the reception building is completely out of your sight, disappearing beyond the trees and the tall grasses that surround it.

Your bare feet scrape the squelching mud that surrounds the grassland after the recent rains, and overhead, the piercing blue sky and a harsh sun beams down over you in encouragement. And you normally hate blue skies and green grasses like this, always equating them to Jung’s stupid golf courses and the corporate events he’s dragged you to for years.

But today it serves as a sort of blessing, like the world is brighter, lighting your path and guiding you to the beacon that is Minho, and all his unconditional, unwavering love for you. Maybe it took you years to finally acquaint yourself with your emotions like this, and maybe you hadn’t even realized what true love was until Minho. And there’s the possibility, of course, that you’re also too late, and that Minho has already settled on the tragic fact that Jung would always remain a part of you.

And that’s true- he will maintain a role of permanence in your life. He was your first serious boyfriend throughout college, your first fiancé and your first true love before you understood it in a less superficial form. And yet he will also permanently remain the man whose life you walked out on, because he helped you realize he’s nothing near what actually fulfills you.

Once the paved roads are in view again, you waste no time waving down a taxi and uttering Minho’s address to the driver with such urgency. Your dress is caked in mud up to the ankles, and your hair is in complete disarray as you glance out the window at the rows of cars, all belonging to guests here for your dinner rehearsal. And you chuckle briefly, at the thought of them emptying the lot and walking out of your life forever.

Contrastly, Minho’s apartment is in complete disarray, too, as he hoists the last of his immediate belongings into a leather bound suitcase and latches it shut.

What a waste, he thinks to himself. What a waste to have spent so much time comfortably in love with the idea of a finite soulmate, and at such close proximity, too. You’re probably off at your rehearsal dinner, sampling finger foods and laughing at all of Jung’s surface-level conversation.

And he’ll never know you the way Minho knows you. He will never comprehend your fears, your reservations, all your little quirks and the things that make you tick. He’ll never fully understand the prospect of being so bound to somebody in both friendship and love that it’s almost indistinguishable what you are to each other. Perhaps that’s where you went wrong, too- because Minho knows it, that his role in your life has always been to love you, near, far and at every point in between. And yet you deem it just a fleeting thing, one implying an end.

There is no discernible point between the end of my friendship and my love for you, Minho wishes he could tell you. Just like the promise of my friendship to you, it’s a blossoming thing, this beautiful phenomenon. And we can run with it, or we can let it die like this- but it will always remain of permanence.

The chestnut suitcase is hoisted into the trunk of his car, also littered with boxes and duffel bags of his belongings. It’s a vulnerable feeling, to pack up and move on like this. Not forever- just for the duration of which you’ll be uttering your vows to Jung. He can’t bear to be in the same city as any of it, he refuses to let himself love at the proximity of you dolled up in a wedding dress, in the sacred environment of a church surrounded by your family. How could a higher power accept the felicitations of the same man who’s been fucking you behind the groom’s back? Within the four walls of which transforms hate to love, and sin to virtue?

What a waste, Minho concludes again. What a waste to have loved this deeply, and to pacify your fears only for another man to reap the benefits. Try as Jung might, he’ll never know you the way Minho does. And the vast trench that separates you from Jung, one which paints a clear divide of friendship and his superficial love for you- that will remain permanent, too.

As Minho starts up the engine, the last of his belongings all packed and ready to go, he glances around the neighborhood with a somber expression. The sun glares down on the empty concrete roads, birds circling the sky like there’s any reason to celebrate. Maybe they’re ravens, and maybe they circle in a mourning ritual. The only event fitting for an afternoon like this one, as Minho prepares to leave for his parents’ house- like the coward he knows he is.

His apartment grows smaller with every passing inch he drives down the concrete road, and a trembling hand reaches up to adjust his rear view mirror, letting out a deep exhale as he prepares to leave all this behind.

And as the faint outline of his apartment grows smaller, a white figure behind him grows bigger.

It starts as a fleeting blur, maybe a shadow, or perhaps the glint of the sunlight in his mirror. But as he quickens the push of his foot to the gas pedal, it grows faster, too, catching up to the drag of his car along the concrete and approaching him with such purpose.

An apparition of sorts, he thinks momentarily.

I’m fucking seeing things. I’ve officially lost it.

But as the frantic call of his name floats through the air and into the crack of his car window, his eyes widen, the lag of his brain finally reaching a halt as he slams on his brakes and throws open the door.

And in rushed motions, he’s climbing out to face you, doubled over as you catch your breath and hold a hand up in surrender.

“Stop!” You shout, waving your hands and motioning for him to cease his movements.

And Minho’s eyes don’t get any smaller, maintaining their shocked expression as he waits for you to speak.

Your white dress, tainted brown up to your knees in mud and grass. Even your face is muddy, streaks of it painting the otherwise stunning face of makeup you flaunt. And you speak in pleading gasps as you finally break the silence between the two of you.

“It’s you,” you say to Minho sheepishly.

“What are you-”

“It’s you, it’s always been you,” you breathe out. “I was so stupid, and I left as soon as I could comfortably come to terms with it. It’s you I love, Minho. Not Jung and not the idealized version of that life I created in my head. I can’t do any of this without you, and I can’t live the rest of my life without having said something. I love you- now, and in ten years time and I want to spend the rest of my life gutting fish alongside you- mess and all.”

Minho doesn’t say anything for a moment- in fact, he wears a poker face as he watches you continue to catch your breath. And then he scoffs lightly as he shakes his head.

“You waited until the day of your wedding to say something?” Minho retorts frustratedly.

“Rehearsal dinner,” you correct him. “This is just a dinner dress.

“Regardless,” Minho says. “I mean, what are we doing? There’s another man waiting for you, and we’re here doing something we should’ve done years ago if it was meant to be in the slightest.”

You feel your heart drop at his words, confirming the theory you’d feared the most. Too late.

“Please,” you beg, and Minho shakes his head.

“We’re terrible people,” he then states, his voice trembling in the process. “Cheaters, and liars. And this is far too rooted in dishonesty and selfishness to be love.”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you watch Minho scan your expression. And perhaps he’s right- but it can’t be anything except for love, not when it feels this right with him.

“Where are you going?” You ask Minho quietly, moving a strand of muddied hair out from your eyes.

“My parents’ place,” he replies.

And you give him a small nod, pivoting on your heel to walk out of his life, forever.

Except it’s the realization of this that causes you to turn back around-

There is no forever in the absence of Minho- not when he plays a role of permanence.

He will forever be the man you fell in love with, the man you’ve been in love with for years, one you risked your life to come find and one who’s defined the limitations of what it means to be a best friend and simultaneously a lover.

That will remain with you always, and near, far and everywhere in between, the love will exist the way it always has.

“Loving me was the most selfish thing you ever did,” you call out to Minho, and he turns back around to meet your gaze.

“And yet you did it anyway,” you continue. “You made love to me and you drank my fiancé’s wine and we’re in love so selfishly at this proximity to each other. But it doesn’t change the fact that we’re in love, and that I’m not going back to Jung. And leaving here- depriving yourself of the love you’ve wanted for so long, that’s also a selfish move. You can go as far as you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that the love is still here between us.”

Minho’s lips part to say something, but he doesn’t, instead blinking nervously as he waits for you to finish.

“And at the end of the day, there’s the man who tells me how to golf, and there’s the man who teaches me how to gut a fish, mess and all,” you finally finish.

Minho stays silent, pondering your words, and scanning your expression.

And truth be told, he wants to take you in his arms and run, hearing the words he’s longed to hear all his life. But he stops himself, instead emitting a breathy chuckle from his lips and shaking his head.

“Well what do you propose?” He finally asks, cocking his head as he awaits your reply.

And his response is a weight off your shoulders, as you sigh deeply and shrug in his direction.

“I propose we let ourselves be selfish,” you say to him. “And we spend the rest of our lives seeking forgiveness together.”

Minho chuckles, taking careful note of the way your eyes sparkle as you approach him. He’s not sure he’s ever seen you so relaxed before, and certainly not so sure of yourself. You look like the woman he’s loved both near and far, exuding confidence and passion and unwavering comfort in your demeanor. His best friend and his lover, he thinks encouragingly, as he cups his hands around your cheeks and pulls you in for a tender kiss, one that confirms your proposal and implies all of this permanence.

The roads are still empty in the dull afternoon of the hour, Minho maneuvering the car with one hand as you sit beside him in the passenger seat, your hands intertwined over the center console as the harsh blue sky and bright hues of green grass melt into blurs of color beside you. And he speaks only of Shirakawa as he drives, promising you beautiful snowfalls and chilly walks along the lily ponds upon your arrival.

You can picture everything as the tales escape his lips, full of life as you imagine the brown farmhouses and green hills, where you and Minho promise to love selfishly under the prayer hand thatched roofs, the very place your forgiveness will coincide alongside the permanence.

And as he brings the back of your hand to his lips for a chaste kiss, he can feel the green vines of ivy loosen around his soul, but this time you feel it too, viridian leaves finally putting distance between your venules and their harsh grasp. And perhaps it wasn’t grieving all along, but love for you- love which you’re full of, too.

And the vines tangle themselves beautifully between your seated figures, blossoming flowers and color and placing life back into you both.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Minho can finally breathe.

#fic recs