#CSC/2

[hoshingi]

cute 🥺

[ducktracy]

reminder that if you're not watching Crayon Shin-chan then you are living a hollow and empty life. this is not edited. this ripped straight from the movie (Movie 8: Jungle That Invites the Storm, highly recommend for fellow Masaaki Yuasa lovers)

if you need further convincing: these monkeys run an animation sweatshop

[cliffsideclangen]

Dawnleap and Rootstar bond while reminiscing of their lost clan-mates. As they chat Rootstar is impressed with Dawnleap’s weaving ability

[furbyq-sims]

https://discord.gg/DXDmha8P

come join chill sims chat!! i plan on releasing some ~exclusive~ ts2 cc on the server and you won't want to miss it. :)

18+ only! also bigotry will get you kicked. be tolerant of others, y'all.

[daechwitatamic]

cherrybomb || csc

(banner by @sailorrhansol)

cherrybomb seungcheol x afab reader || angst smut fluff || exes2lovers, pacific rim universe NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: Piloting a jaeger requires a rare ability called drifting - a neural connection with your co-pilot. You and Seungcheol are masters of the drift... until you have something in your head that you don't want him to see.

wc: 19.5k

warnings: language, heavy angst with happy ending, fight scenes, fight scenes written by an author with zero fighting or martial arts knowledge lmfao thus they are vague as possible, feelings heavy plot light and smut light, kissing and pretty generic (and brief) p in v smut

Author's note: thank you for @sailorrhansol for 1) accidentally sparking this idea, 2) agreeing to collab with me, 3) reading this along the way and hyping me up, and 4) beta-ing my mistakes, a million smooches for you ily

This fic takes place in the Pacific Rim universe but I honestly don't think you need to know the lore, everything you need to know should be explained. If you think something is unclear without prior pacific rim knowledge, shoot me a message privately and I'll make some edits and credit you for the insight!

Also in this universe: storm breaker by @/sailorhansol

Teaser:

“Marshall, with all due respect, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” you admit. “You were there. You saw what happened. Seungcheol and I can’t drift anymore.”

“You couldn’t then,” he points out. “That was three years ago. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift… they’ve had time to mellow.”

He’s wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing has mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did then.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

The Marshall’s voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. “Mr. Choi will follow orders,” he says evenly, “and so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.”

“You can’t order us into being able to drift again,” you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest. 

“No,” the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, “but I can - and will - order you to try.”

Playlist: you're the smoke in my gun, blowin' like cherry bombs...

The first time you ever saw Choi Seungcheol, he was flipping a man four years his senior over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground. Satisfied, he staggered backwards, chest heaving from exertion, eyes narrowed in preparation for the next move.

That’s what Seungcheol did - he leveled whatever was in front of him, and he started watching for what was coming next before the body could even hit the ground.

That’s what made him a great jaeger pilot. Not the brute strength - strong men are dime a dozen, always have been - but the watching.

You’d marked him as your first choice.

You were both nineteen. You’d grown up in the Shatterdome, the only child to a couple who piloted a neon green jaeger named Charron’s Revenge. You knew everything about how jaegers and their teams worked by the time you were nine. You started training to fight years before that. There was never a question that you would follow in your parents’ giant, mechanical footsteps one day. You just needed the right partner.

You needed Seungcheol.

The jaeger program didn’t turn away recruits - everyone could do something - but there was an organized process to match up compatible pilots. Applying recruits would fight before an audience of previously-accepted but currently-unmatched potential pilots. The pilots would rank the fighters, choosing their top five based on perceived potential for compatibility.

Then, the roles would switch. The applicants became the audience. The audience became the show.

When it was your turn to fight, you silently pleaded with the universe that Seungcheol would mark you high as well. This was the only guarantee that you’d get a chance to spar with him, to test it out before the Marshall, who would make the final call.

Let him see, you begged. Let him see how perfectly we’d work together.

And, by some miracle, he did. In fact, he rated you first, as well.

Your sparring match went exactly how you expected - he barreled at you, and you dodged every move. He could easily take you out with a single blow, but he couldn’t get his hands on you, not when you used his own inertia against him at every turn. What you didn’t expect was your own inability to land a shot. For the whole fight, you were unable to move out of the defensive - keeping out of his reach took all of your effort.

It was a draw - the first sign of strong compatibility.

You didn’t talk after the match - your father whisked you away to recover before your second-rated match, and you didn’t see Seungcheol for the rest of the day.

The second-rated match was a dud. But you already knew, even then, that it didn’t matter.

You’d met your co-pilot. You’d found your partner.

—

He found you in the mess hall that night, dropping into an empty spot on the other side of the table, his tray in his hands. His black hair was loose and wavy, and his right arm sported a sizeable bruise that he definitely didn’t get from you.

“I know who you are,” he said by way of greeting. You raised a brow at him, waiting. “Your parents piloted Charron’s Revenge.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That better not be why you picked me.”

He gave his head an annoyed little flick. “Of course not. I picked you because you’re fluid - and I’m not.”

Appeased, you felt your hackles settle back down. “That’s true,” you allowed. “You’re not fluid. But you’re purposeful, and-”

You were interrupted when Yoon Jeonghan dropped into the seat to your left, chuckling under his breath as he fixed his long, dark hair into a spiky ponytail at the back of his head.

“Cherry, did you hear?” he asked you, ignoring the new-comer. “The crew for Fatal Rapids got called back in for misconduct.”

“Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan,” you said, introducing the two young men. “Hannie does more than gossip, I promise. He’s one of the pilots for Devil’s Advocates. Their drop stats are insane.”

“In practice only,” Jeonghan demurred. “For now.”

“Cherry?” Seungcheol parroted, raising a dark brow. “That’s not what I wrote on my paper earlier.”

“Just a nickname,” you explained. When you were very small, you’d struggled with the name of your parents’ jaeger, calling it Cherry’s Revenge instead of Charron’s, and the crew - who doted on you like their own - started the habit of calling you Cherry. Somehow, it had spread, and stuck. “Only my parents use my real name. But you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“No,” he said, frowning as if deeply considering his options. “I like it.”

You folded your arms on the table, leaning in to peer at Seungcheol. “So, what’s your story? You’ve heard of me. I haven’t heard of you.”

He shrugged, glanced around, then decided he could talk freely. There’s something about being in a room that’s positively teeming with people and conversation - it gives you privacy without feeling too intimate. You’re not alone.

“Not much of a story, not like you,” he admitted. “I grew up thinking I’d take over my dad’s business. We lost my dad… then, we lost the business. I have no marketable skillset, and university was out of the question. But…” He trailed off, then met your gaze firmly. Something in his look demanded you forgo any pity or sympathy, demanded you take him seriously. “I’m strong. So I came here. I came to fight.”

You sidestepped the bruises he’d bared. “Not like me,” you repeated with a bit of a scoff. “I hate to disappoint you, but my parents are the pilots - the story is theirs. I don’t have one, not yet.”

Something playful glinted in his eyes, the first true sign of personality you’d seen. “So all the rumors about the Princess of the Shatterdome aren’t true?”

Your jaw dropped. You’d heard the nickname before - it was never meant nicely. You tried to ignore it as best you could - people could think what they wanted. When you had a crew, when you had a jaeger, you’d be able to prove them wrong. “What rumors?”

“You’re spoiled,” Jeonghan supplied, having decided he was part of the conversation after all. “Entitled.”

You spluttered as Jeonghan stood, giving you a cheerful pat on the shoulder. “And bitchy! That’s just what I’ve heard. Of course I know better. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Love ya!”

You stared incredulously after him as he disappeared, your face burning with embarrassment and your heart hammering with adrenaline. Fight, your systems told you.

If only you could.

Seungcheol bit back a smile, reaching out to pat your arm placatingly.

“I don’t…” you started to say, but your voice caught in your throat. You cleared it, tried again. “I don’t think I really deserve all that.”

He nodded, lips pushed into a semblance of a thoughtful pout. “What I’d heard,” he said calmly, “is that you’re a hell of a fighter, scary smart, and that you take no shit. Unless it’s from your friends, apparently.”

This made a bitter little laugh bubble from you. You still simmered with humiliation, feared that maybe he’d decide he didn’t want to co-pilot with you after all.

“I think it’s up to you which story gets told,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “That’s what I always said. So… let’s get started.”

—

You and Seungcheol lucked out - the team that had been recalled for misconduct were terminated from their posts in the weeks following the sparring trials, and their jaeger Fatal Rapids had been disassembled, the parts up for grabs.

You and Seungcheol repurposed Rapids’s main frame, your crew working to individualize the bot to your needs as best they could. You splurged on quad-processors for her legs to allow your jaeger to keep up with how you move - quick and lithe. Seungcheol lobbied for (and won) some extra power in the top half, and you compromised and chose a mix of red and blue sections for her paintjob.

Duellona Fury, you named her. Duellona for you, the destroyer. Fury for Seungcheol, because that was where his fight came from.

You got to know Seungcheol’s fury very well. Especially when you started trying to drift.

None of it happened fast - not the building of your machine, nor your neural handshake. In fact, you didn’t pilot Duellona Fury together for a whole calendar year.

You started with physical compatibility - you sparred almost all day, every day. You fought - with each other and against each other - until all you could do was lay on the ground and pant, blinking to make the ceiling stay in focus.

Seungcheol may not have grown up training in the Shatterdome the way you did, but he kept up without complaint. You learned his way - force and strength - and he learned the way you favored - to weave and dodge.

The fighting was the easy part.

You had never drifted with someone you had true drift compatibility with. Seungcheol had never drifted at all. The Marshall wouldn’t even consider hooking the two of you up to the machine until you went through the proper training.

On the day you and Seungcheol were officially declared as co-pilots-in-training, you both stood below the half-built shell of your towering jaeger, sparks flying and drills screaming as the crew worked on her.

Your Marshall looked seriously at his new team-in-training. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll meditate together. Talk to each other. Get deep about it. If you’ve talked about it out here-” he swept an arm across the deck, “-it won’t take hold so strongly in there.” He’d jabbed a finger in the upward direction of Duellona Fury.

Seungcheol didn’t look at you, nor the Marshall. Instead, he kept his eyes on Duellona's unfinished frame, stories above you. “Yes, Sir,” he said steadily.

Your parents weren’t technically retired yet, the year you and Seungcheol started training together. Charron’s Revenge still sat in the well below the Shatterdome. They still lived on the base, still took part in daily training. They hadn’t been called into a fight in years, though; the assignments went to the younger crews.

You took dinner in their quarters instead of the mess hall, that night.

“Congratulations,” your father said warmly from across the table. “You worked hard to get here.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling shy beneath the praise. “I hope the drift will work for me and Choi Seungcheol.”

“What do you think of him?” your mother had asked, her sharp eyes honing in on you, watching your reactions.

“I think he’s a great fighter,” you said. “The rest… I guess I’ll have to learn.”

“Do you trust him? Can you trust him out there, when the sea and the wind are trying to knock you down, and hell itself rises up from the depths?”

You swallowed. She’s right for her intensity - they will be putting their daughter’s life in her co-pilot’s hands, every time there’s a fight. You knew firsthand how terrifying it was to stand in the tech bay and wait, not knowing if your loved ones will make it back.

You thought about how you and Seungcheol fight together in the sparring rooms. You thought about how you weaved and your opponent followed your movement, only to be knocked sideways. You thought of how Seungcheol followed your motion backwards, ducked in tandem with you to avoid a hit, and how you followed his momentum forward and up to attack. Your bodies followed each other like they were magnetized. And Seungcheol was always watching for the next hit.

“Yes,” you said, so quietly that you cleared your throat and said it again. “Yes, I trust him.”

“Then we wish you luck,” your father said, and raised his glass. “To Duellona Fury.”

“To Duellona Fury,” you echoed.

On your way out of the quarters, later, you slowed as you passed the wall where they hung their accolades and awards, the newspaper clippings, photos, and medals. Before your eyes they aged - the photographs changing through the years, no longer showing a bright, fiery couple, instead displaying proof of passing time: a baby bump, then a toddler, then a child beaming alongside them as if she’d done what they had done; greying hairs, softening bodies, deepening of wrinkles. Then the pictures stopped.

You never asked them if they missed it.

—

You and Seungcheol started meditating together the next morning; it seemed logical to begin at the easiest step. In an empty sparring room, you sat facing each other, knees touching.

“Have you done this before?” you asked, as you both settled in, shifting weight and adjusting ankles.

“Not with someone else,” he admitted, lips protruding in a bit of a pout. “Only alone.”

You nodded. You’d grown up learning all of this - the right way to fight as a team member, how to be in tune for a neural connection. It led to you teaching Seungcheol often - yet when you fought together, any leadership fell away.

“Normally,” you explained, “you focus on your breath, keeping your mind clear. But for our practice, you want to focus on our breath. We breathe together. And when your mind wanders, your awareness should be coming to peace with my presence there. Like, making a path for the neural connection - for later. So there’s no resistance.”

“Have you done this before?” Seungcheol asked.

You wobbled your head around - not yes, but not no. “I’ve practiced it - I’ve done the meditation with partners. But I’ve never moved forward to an actual drift with anyone.”

This seemed to appease him, and he settled his weight backwards, letting his hands rest near his knees.

You let your eyes float closed and inhaled, listening and feeling for Seungcheol’s inhale to end, letting your breath out when he did. It took no time to match your breaths, to let your mind go blissfully quiet. You focused on feeling open, readable - any thought that floated through your mind, you pretended he could hear, too. You tried to feel and release any defensiveness, any urge to close off.

When the timer went off, it surprised you. You opened your eyes, and the feeling that struck you was this -

It was surprising to see Seungcheol before you. It hadn’t felt like he was beside you. It had felt like he was you.

You meditated, you fought, and finally, you talked.

Laying on the sparring room floor, your head somewhere near Seungcheol’s shins, he asked you, “Where do you wish you were right now? If you weren’t here.”

You laughed at yourself before answering, knowing how silly you would sound. “In a tree.”

A disbelieving smile played on his lips, almost as if he wasn’t sure you weren’t making fun of him somehow. “A tree?”

“No, really,” you insisted, still smiling a little. “There’s not a lot of nature here, in case you didn’t notice. I grew up in the Dome - never got to leave, much.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond to this, just nodded like he understood, his small smile going a bit tight around the edges.

You frowned, reading him exactly. “You think I’m sheltered,” you observed. It wasn’t a question. He couldn’t say no.

He looked at you, then. “You were sheltered,” he said, voice low. “But when I say it, I don’t mean naive. I just think… there’s a lot of world out there. A lot of things to see. You won’t see any of it if you spend your entire life under the Dome.”

You nod, accepting this. “I won’t see any of it if it gets destroyed, either. There’s a lot of world out there - that we’re trying to keep safe.”

Seungcheol watched you intently for a moment, lips downturned and gaze heavy. Then, he asked, “Have you ever seen a kaiju? I mean - in person?”

“Sort of,” you mumbled.

He’d rolled from his back to his front, closer to you, putting you shoulder to shoulder. “Kind of seems like a yes-or-no question.”

Your lips twisted. “Then, no. But I’ve stood in the bay and listened to Mission Control talk my mom and dad through a fight dozens of times, watched Charron’s Revenge on the screens and prayed I wouldn’t see her get sawed in half.”

You stopped, trailed a finger through the thin layer of dirt on the floor. “I know it’s not the same as looking one in the face myself,” you whispered. “But the fear… shouldn’t that fear count, shouldn’t it feel the same?”

Seungcheol swallowed, trailed his own finger through the dirt until his fingertip just barely touched yours. It felt like energy sizzled in the centimeter between your pointer and his.

“When Menaceclaw attacked,” he said, “he missed my home by one block. We watched him go by from the sidewalk. I wasn’t even as tall as his foot. But even with him towering over the buildings, taking them down without even trying, I don’t think what I felt was afraid. I think I just felt resigned. Like I knew, at seven, that even though we survived this one… nothing was going to be… the same, or okay. I don’t know.”

“You knew what you lost,” you said quietly. “Part of you did.”

He looked up at you, nudged his finger into yours. “You never knew anything different. It wasn’t a loss. The fear was just always part of the deal.”

You rolled sideways, laying your head on your bicep for a pillow, regarding the dark-eyed, dark-haired young man across from you. His face scrunched in a laugh, brows furrowing and lips pouting.

“What?” he asked through the quiet laugh. “Why are you looking at me?”

“What else?” you mused. “What else am I going to find when we go tiptoeing through your memories?”

He smiled faintly and then mirrored you, laying his head on his arm, his eyes swimming as he thought.

“A lot of my family, probably,” he said. “A lot of fighting. Menaceclaw. Probably some very mid sex.”

You laughed without meaning to. “My condolences?”

He grinned at you, pleased. “Eh, what can you do? I try to treat everything like a learning experience.”

You laughed again, and his smile grew, gums showing. “What about you?” he asked off-handedly.

“Mid sex?” you asked, eyebrows raising. “I hate to inform you, Choi Seungcheol, but I don’t do anything mid.”

“No,” he protested, laughing, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. “I meant - what will we see when it’s your turn?”

“The Dome,” you said, half-joking - but it was true. “Training. My parents. Their fights, their accomplishments.”

And, as a true drift partner should, he understood what you weren’t saying.

“We’ll have our turn,” he promised, pushing himself to sit up, then stand, reaching down to help you up. “We’re gonna be fucking unstoppable. Let’s go again.”

Fire sparking behind your ribs, you nodded seriously, then reached up to take his hand.

—

Weeks of sparring melded into months of meditation and talking. The next phase of training co-pilots was learning to drift in one of the simulators - but not in a jaeger. Not yet.

You and Seungcheol finished training in one of the sparring rooms shortly before dinner would be served in the mess hall.

“Meet you there?” you asked, still half-breathless, your body starting to ache as the adrenaline from a fight melted away.

“Sure,” he agreed, and you disappeared into the changing rooms, scrubbing the sweat and dirt away as quickly as you could. You changed into something clean and made your way to the mess hall.

You scanned for familiar faces, frowning when your normal table seemed to be occupied by a team of new recruits that you didn’t know.

Seungcheol appeared at your elbow, frowning dramatically. “Our table,” he whined.

“There’s Chan and Wylie,” you said, nodding to another corner where your friends sat practically on top of each other. Chan and Wylie had never understood personal space, not when it came to one another. They barely noticed when you and Seungcheol plopped onto the benches next to them, but Seungkwan did.

“You’re bleeding, Cherry,” he said, before inhaling an entire mouthful of rice.

You started to scan your arms - you didn’t feel pain anywhere - but Seungcheol found it first, gingerly swiping his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Sorry, Cherry,” he murmured. “I should’ve pulled that punch.”

“No you shouldn’t have,” you grumbled, swatting at his hand and wiping roughly at the spot, your hand coming away with a small smear of red - nothing to be alarmed about. It would stop on its own. “You pull shots in practice, you’ll hesitate in the field.”

“She’s right,” Chan said from his physical tangle with Wylie. “What you practice will show up in your muscle memory. You’ve got to mean it, every time.”

Wylie reached across his arms and took a bite from his plate, then asked, “Did you guys see the new jaeger?”

“I did,” Seungkwan said eagerly. “Chaser Supernova, or something like that? She’s smaller, but she’s supposed to be fast.”

“Is that her team at our normal table?” you asked dryly, shooting the rookies a dark look over your shoulder. Seungcheol jostled you playfully, sending you a smile that brought you back.

The bench dipped to your left, and you turned to see Soonyoung - one of Seungkwan’s two co-pilots - settle in.

“Talking about Supernova?” he asked, hands busy opening his drink. “They seem okay - they’re a trio, like us.”

“Where is Seokmin?” Seungkwan asked, scanning the room. “I haven’t seen him in like two hours.”

“Talking to Jihoon, I think,” Soonyoung answered absently, focused on his meal. “He lost another co-pilot today.”

“Not again,” you and Seungcheol both blurted, matching levels of exasperation.

“That was freaky,” Wylie said, just as Chan told you, “You two are acting like us, now.”

“We do not need another Chan-and-Wylie,” Seungkwan said seriously, shaking his head.

Seungcheol sent you a sideways, sheepish grin.

“We won’t be,” he promised the group, but his eyes were still on you.

—

The simulators were built to be exact replicas of the conn-pod, so that trainees could get used to the feeling of being strapped in, of moving with the gear. But the real purpose was to practice the neural handshake without risking damage - to the jaeger, to the tech bay, to each other.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told Seungcheol as the tech team worked around you both like a choreographed dance.

“I’m never nervous,” he said, suddenly cocky.

If you could reach his hand from where you were strapped in, you would have. If you understood anything about Seungcheol - if any part of him mirrored you - it was the way he showcased bravado, the way he used it as his most-familiar mask.

“It’s only practice,” you reminded him. “And it’s only me.”

He licked his lips quickly, eyes darting to the side and then back to you. Then, he gave you a small nod.

“Normally,” your chief tech - a beautiful woman with jet-black hair named Nainsi - told you, “right now, you would be ready for the drop. In the simulator, we skip that step because we aren’t dropping onto a jaeger. Instead, we’ll engage the pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence.”

You and Seungcheol nod in tandem.

“You’re all good?” Nainsi checks. “Then I’m going back into the tech bay - you’ll hear me through the intercom.”

Alone in the simulator, you met Seungcheol’s gaze and couldn’t help the excited grin that spread across your face. Finally, finally you were here. Once you could do this successfully, the next step was to fight in your own jaeger - to drop into Duellona Fury and walk into the sea.

He didn’t return your smile, instead giving you a tight nod, expression serious.

Over the intercom, you said clearly, “Ready and aligned.”

Nainsi answered, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself as the artificial voice of the simulator’s tech system spoke around you, 3… 2… 1… neural handshake initiating…

At first, you thought something went wrong. Everything went red behind your eyelids, and you blinked, instinctively trying to clear it away.

The red faded, and you found yourself in Seungcheol’s childhood home. You didn’t know how you knew that - you just knew. It was as familiar to you, inside the drift, as your own. You knew that to your left was a small kitchen with two broken floor tiles; you knew - without having ever seen it - that to your right was a narrow hallway that led to a bathroom and two small bedrooms.

Two small boys played on the carpet; rather, the smaller one played with some toy cars while the other watched the television with rapture. Behind them, at the kitchen table, a woman typed busily on an outdated laptop, bags heavy under her eyes.

Somewhere around you, a voice floated by, telling you, neural handshake strong and holding.

You could see Seungcheol in your periphery - the adult Seungcheol, the Seungcheol of now - as he looked at his mother, his brother, himself.

“It’s not real,” you reminded him gently. “It’s just a memory.”

“I know,” he said back, voice hushed, as if he might scare them away. “It’s just… good to see them.”

The house evaporated as gently as morning dew under a mid-morning sun; you stood in a schoolyard. Seungcheol, the small one, had a bloody lip and a mean swing.

You felt a rush of affection for him - him, the child, face contorting with misplaced anger, using strength as a bandage. You wanted to stand in front of him, between him and the anger, him and the other kids, and let him take a breath. You wanted to tell him to step with his punch to get more power. You wanted to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him, you’re going to be fine.

And he knew all of it, because he was in your mind.

Seungcheol - your Seungcheol - walked away from the swarm of children egging on the fight and opened a door. You followed.

Inside was not the school, but a hospital room. Your body jolted forward, distracting and alarming. You heard, faintly, a series of beeps, that robotic voice needling in your ears, saying, calibration failure… recalibrating in 3… 2… 1…

“It’s only a memory,” you said again, but the warning beeps were coming stronger, louder, more clearly. The hospital room looked opaque, and Seungcheol walked backwards towards you, away from it, herding you both out of the room. The room - a bed, a pulled curtain, a lot of white - flickered, like a glitch, and then vanished, leaving you standing in the simulator.

Neural handshake disengaged…

“Seungcheol!” you yelled, pulling your helmet off and wheeling on him as best you could with most of your body still strapped in. “What the hell was that? You pushed me out!”

He was breathing hard, eyes a little wild. “Not that,” he said, a little ragged. “I’ll let you in but - not that.”

“You don’t get to choose!” you snapped. Part of you knew this was just growing pains, he’d never drifted before, he was learning. But the rest of you smarted and stung - both from his rejection and from your failure to train, to succeed, to check off this final step before you could get inside your jaeger. “It’s kind of an all-or-nothing thing!”

He let out a billow of air, reaching a hand up to rub at his face. “Sorry. I’ll… let’s try again.”

You didn’t answer, fuming silently instead.

“I’m sorry, Cherry,” he said. “The stuff with my dad…”

“You can’t cherry-pick what we see and what we don’t,” you fired back. His eyes shot to yours and his mouth quirked and you read the joke all over his face. “Don’t you laugh, Seungcheol, it’s not funny!”

But you were laughing through the scolding.

“Stop,” you whined.

Your anger defused, he looked at you again, taking a bracing breath. “It’s not about you,” he tried to explain. “I’m not keeping you out. I’m keeping me out.”

“Don’t chase the rabbit,” you told him, shaking your head. “See what it wants you to see and move on. Find the next door. If you stand there and let your hurt - or your, I don’t know… grief - rise up… that’s when we’re going to have trouble.”

“Find the next door,” he repeated, eyes on the floor. “Got it.”

“You can’t push it away,” you reminded him, “but you don’t have to stay in it, either.”

He nodded, eyes already lighting up, ready to go again.

The second time, you saw him steel himself before opening that same door, watching carefully as he shuffled inside, only looking sideways at the hospital room that materialized around you.

“Seungcheol.”

He turned to look at you, wide-eyed, but you hadn’t called him. The voice, weak and hoarse, had come from the other side of the fluttering curtain.

The glitching started almost immediately - the image around you flickering like a bad wall projection. Something rocked beneath your feet, an earthquake only inside your minds.

You opened your mouth, started to tell him, you don’t have to stay, to remind him that he could move forward. Instead, you heard yourself say, “I’m here.”

The tremors under your feet quivered to a stop. You watched with trepidation and Seungcheol closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Then, he held his hand out, waiting.

You slipped your hand into his, and then he turned and continued walking, ignoring his father’s memory calling out to him. The flickering stopped, the picture you were part of brightening again as you found the next door, stepped through, left his pain behind.

—

It got easier quickly. Seungcheol’s ability to press on, to maintain focus, strengthened.

The strolls through your mind went easier - you’d had years to practice maintaining focus, waiting until after to let the emotions hit you.

Seungcheol learned to be ready for you, after. He’d sit with you, silent, and breathe in tandem as you worked to let go, to release the images of Charron’s Revenge on the tech bay screen, the sounds of your parents’ frantic communication as they fought together, the fear crawling its way up your legs every time until someone in the bay said, “Charron’s Revenge, cleared to return.” The loneliness of being the only kid in the Dome, having no outlet except fighting. Everything that threatened your mind while you piloted, everything that you had to save for later - save for him.

You were both freshly turned twenty when you got green-lit to drive.

“Seungcheol!” you called across the mess hall, practically racing to your table. He turned, eyebrows raised, as you crossed the large room.

“We’re approved to drop!” you told him excitedly. It churned in you - finally, finally you could fight, you could prove what you could do, you could help. “We’re on the drop schedule for tomorrow!”

His grin was unfettered, unfiltered, just for you. He reached up a fist and you bumped it enthusiastically. You were too excited to eat, too excited to sleep. You tossed and turned, imagining experiencing a drop for the first time, imagining striding through the mighty sea like it was nothing, imagining staring down hell itself and bringing it to its knees.

You were still awake when you heard the alarms down the hall. Yours didn’t go off, because you weren’t on duty, weren’t approved to fight.

Down the hall, there was a flurry of commotion - shouting, rushing, people pushing past you as they pulled on boots and jackets.

“Cat-3 in the west bay,” someone shouted.

“Deploying Devil’s Advocate!”

You reached the tech bay, trying to stay out of the way but not unseen. When the Marshall strode by, you stepped sideways.

“Let us drop,” you said quickly, knowing time was precious. “It’ll be like practice. We can be back-up. We’ll hang back.”

“Absolutely not,” the Marshall said, already moving to work past you. “You’re not approved yet. We don’t need a liability right now.”

“We’re scheduled for tomorrow!” you protested, and then you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll get our turn,” Seungcheol told you quietly. Of course he’d come out, of course he found you.

You deflated. “It could have been us. We are hours from approval.”

He gave your shoulder a tiny shake. “We’ll get our turn,” he repeated. “Don’t make trouble.”

You glowered, but you knew he was right. “Fine,” you grumbled as Joshua and Jeonghan slinked past you in matching jackets and matching shit-eating grins. You stayed out of the way as they prepared to drop.

You stayed through the fight, listened to the control room buzz and chatter, until you heard, “Devil’s Advocate, cleared to return.”

Only then did you try to go back to sleep. Seungcheol gave your shoulder one more squeeze.

“Tomorrow,” he promised.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated.

—

Some people feel God at church. The history of tradition and the sanctity of ritual speak to them, help them feel part of something, help them feel that unnameable swell of something spiritual.

Some people feel God in nature. The patterns of the universe, the way math exists without human touch, the harmonies and patterns that seem too intricate for coincidence help them believe in a planner’s touch. The beauty of the outdoors allows them to wonder, to feel like they belong as a piece of this clockwork.

But you - you felt God when you stood before your jaeger, marveling at the power, the beauty, how it feels like yours, how it feels like Seungcheol before you’re even inside it. Duellona Fury promises you power, promises you purpose.

That hand was on your shoulder again, and it slid down to the center of your back before removing itself.

Beside you, Seungcheol stared up at your glorious machine.

“She looks sick,” he said, the grin taking over his face.

“I can’t wait to fuck shit up,” you murmured, your reverent tone at odds with the flippancy of your words.

“Ready?” the Marshall asked you, coming up to your left. “We’ll get you calibrated and dropped, and then you’ll do a lap of the bay. We’re sending out Pretty Savage just in case you run into trouble.”

The defensiveness rose in you quick, like a snakebite.

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Seungcheol said, voice hard. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze - a reminder to watch it, just as his hand on your shoulder frequently did for you.

“It’s just safety protocol.” The Marshall was unphased by the outburst. “Have fun, you two. Enjoy your first joy-ride.”

You screamed when you dropped, the exhilaration rushing out of you as Duellona Fury fell story after story before slowing and attaching to your jaeger’s mainframe.

Goosebumps raised along your arms when the Shatterdome’s sea-doors slid open, shudders traveling your body as you and Seungcheol stepped together, Duellona Fury stepping with you, her gigantic, metal form following every movement.

For the first time in your whole, careful life, you felt powerful. Your jaeger cut through the ocean waves like they were nothing, making an easy perimeter of the bay. In your head, you could somehow both hear and feel Seungcheol’s delight, his low-simmering desire to fight, to do something a perfect mirror of your own.

“How is it?” Soonyoung’s voice crackled in your ears, reminding you that Pretty Savage wasn’t far behind you.

“Incredible,” Seungcheol answered him, at the same time that you said, “It’s everything.”

It didn’t matter that you came from a family of pilots. It didn’t matter that you were raised in the Dome, training since you were young. None of that mattered. You were born for this - born to fight for your planet, born for Duellona Fury, born for Choi Seungcheol.

—

The west bay became Duellona’s playground; you and Seungcheol were often assigned to patrol there.

It was only a few months in that you faced a kaiju for the first time.

“Come in, Duellona Fury,” Nainsi’s voice came through. “We have a reading just a few miles north of you. Cat-2. Approaching at -”

Duellona Fury was turning due north before the command was even given.

“Are you ready for this?” you shouted to Seungcheol as Duellona slid through the water, the adrenaline singing in your system already.

“You know I am,” he answered, something hard in it, and the thrill in your stomach sparked.

When the sea split in half, the kaiju rising from the depths with an unearthly roar, you sank into a defensive stance, feeling Seungcheol move beside you, doing the same.

“Let’s fucking go,” Seungcheol said darkly, and launched forward, your arms rearing back for momentum before the first swing. The punch landed solidly, your whole body shaking once as the kaiju faltered backwards a few steps.

It opened its mouth and you glimpsed three rows of teeth bigger than a cow before it was lunging at you; Duellona Fury lurched. You tried to duck sideways as Seungcheol tried to move towards your opponent.

The moment of indecision cost you - the kaiju got its teeth on Duellona’s shoulder, knocking you back several steps. Beside you, Seungcheol roared as sparks flew near the bite.

“Are we breached?” you yelled, trying to steady your balance again.

“Not yet!” he yelled back, and you swung again, a hit landing hard enough to knock the kaiju loose, spitting it back into the sea.

You tried to move into a defensive crouch again; again, the jaeger faltered.

“Cherry!” Seungcheol yelled, desperation laced in his voice. “Cherry, don’t fight me!”

“Move with me!” you answered, and he did, miraculously, Duellona dodging left before an incoming attack.

Don’t fight me.

You rocked forward with Seungcheol as soon as you were clear of the kaiju’s trajectory, just as you’d done in practice thousands of times. Back in sync, Duellona Fury landed a kick to the kaiju’s middle that sent it stumbling.

“We’ve got him,” you said, feeling a win.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Seungcheol warned you. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the kaiju exploded from the dark ocean, limbs flailing as it flew towards you.

Duellona’s arms came up and locked it in battle, the impact shaking you so hard that your teeth chattered against each other. You groaned with exertion as you tried to match its strength.

“I don’t think we can hold it,” you managed through grit teeth.

“We’ve got this,” your partner promised, and with a mighty shove, you managed to flip the beast over your shoulder and beneath the waves.

“Drop the bombs and head for the east side,” you said quickly, already moving. Duellona Fury followed your command, turning and starting an easy run through the bay’s churning waters, away from where the kaiju was struggling to its feet, furious and vengeful. As she ran, she dropped three small explosives, about sixty feet apart. The explosives slipped into the ocean depths.

“Ready?” Seungcheol asked, a little breathless. “Are we far enough away?”

“Light him up,” you replied. Seungcheol reached up and tapped the button; somewhere behind you, the ocean exploded.

—

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, later, in the med bay.

“Not that bad,” Seungcheol said, but you could see the blood-stains on the bandaging.

“It won’t happen again,” you promised. “I think I just… practiced alone for so long. I forgot to listen. I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol shook his hand, eyes finding yours. “There’s nothing to forgive, Cherry. Forget about it.” Then, he brightened. “You know what I want to do?”

“What?” you asked, not entirely past feeling guilty.

His smile was devilish. “I want to go celebrate our first fucking kill.”

– 

You marked the passing of two years in statistics.

Three hundred and forty-six explosives detonated.

Two hundred and eighty-three drops. Two hundred and eight-three kills. 

Seventy-two mainframe repairs.

Twenty-eight achievement awards.

Nine television interviews.

Six upgrades.

One ill-informed “vacation” during which you both itched with anxiety, spending the whole time messaging your friends back in the Shatterdome desperately, praying you wouldn’t miss a fight in which you were needed.

Seven hundred and thirty days of living in and around Seungcheol’s mind and heart. But that stat should’ve gone first.

It was a good high. Your team had a good run.

It wasn’t a kaiju that reduced it to ash, not an attack that took your team out of the rotation of main fighters and sent your jaeger to gather rust and dust below the Dome. It was your own stupid heart.

There were a lot of moments that could have been it. Each time you walked into a fight knowing the danger, each time he ended up in the med bay reeking of antibacterial ointment and resentment. Each time you slid into your place beside him - space he saved only for you. Each time his voice bidding you goodnight from the bottom bunk was the last thing you heard at the end of the day. Any of these moments might have been the one to make you stop, gasp, suddenly slammed with understanding. That you loved him, that he was everything you couldn’t bear to be without, that he was part of you. But they weren’t.

There was no moment of realization at all.

Instead, it slowly seeped into your consciousness, as gently and naturally as morning dew collecting on pre-dawn petals. The knowledge clung to you, as impossible to ignore as damp feet after running barefoot through the yard just after sunrise.

If you knew something, that meant your co-pilot would know it, too.

Unless you tucked it away, pushed it down deep and cast his attention elsewhere, a mental sleight-of-hand. Look here instead. 

You were twenty-three, on a routine patrol, when Mission Control radioed Duellona that there was a reading in the bay.

“Looks like it’s only a Cat-1,” Mission Control told you.

“On it,” you told them, feeling your body already mirroring Seungcheol’s as Duellona picked up her pace, striding through the waves. 

You glanced sideways at him, and immediately wished you hadn’t. He was already zoned in, eyes focused and jaw sharp as he concentrated. 

He caught your gaze for only a second. “Focus, Cherry,” he cautioned. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I would never,” you retorted, and he laughed. You were both cocky; you both knew it.

For a second, things felt better. 

The fight was almost easy, when the ocean seemed to split in two and the waves fell away like wrapping paper to reveal the kaiju you’d been sent for. 

You swung and ducked, dropping explosives strategically, Seungcheol moving in unison with you. There was something graceful about it - something beautiful in the sync, something holy in the way your muscles mimicked each other’s. 

This is what happens when sunlight hits morning dew: it warms, lifts, makes the air humid and sticky until it burns away. 

It rose up in you, your love for him, infusing the air around you, infusing the neural handshake that he was deeply imbedded in.

No. 

You panicked, tried to do several things at once - tried to shove the feeling down, tried to think of something else, tried to push Seungcheol’s consciousness out of yours.

Duellona Fury lurched around you, shuddering. 

“Cherry!” Seungcheol screamed to your left, and then the kaiju hit, its full weight slamming into Duellona’s mainframe.

You both staggered, trying to right yourselves, as the machines around you blinked and beeped and rebooted. 

Seungcheol grunted under the neural weight of driving alone as you gasped and closed your eyes, trying desperately to fix it. Around you, you heard the floating words - recalibrating.

“Recalibrate faster!” you shouted, glancing sideways to see your co-pilot struggling to hold the monster in place, his face contorting with effort, arms straining against the machinery. He bared his gritted teeth, exhaling in a hiss between them. 

You gave yourself a shake, bouncing on the balls of your feet, desperate for the connection to take again so you could pick up your half, take the literal weight from him. As soon as you felt the neural handshake, you gave a mighty shove and Duellona flipped the monster backwards, the ocean receding and then coming back to slam her shins, swallowing the monster whole.

You both sank into a defensive stance, ready for the beast to rise again.

“What was that?” Seungcheol demanded, later, as he sat in the med bay, waiting for his nosebleed to stop. The nosebleed you’d caused by letting him carry a neural load meant for two.

“I don’t know,” you lied, still panicked and desperate. 

“Bullshit,” Seungcheol countered, eyes narrowed. He reached up and pulled the cotton away from his face, examining it. “I’m fine now,” he announced, and tossed the wad into a nearby trash bin, standing.

You fought the urge to cower, knowing he’d never let it go if you did. You followed him silently out of the med bay and back towards your dormitories. Halfway there, he slowed, then stopped.

Then, more calmly this time, he asked, “What happened, Cherry? You pushed me out.”

There was a slight pout to it, a sliver of hurt, and it sliced through you like something tangible, like you were actually wounded from it, like it might actually bleed.

“I don’t know,” you repeated. Guilt poked at you until you relented, gave him something that was at least partly true.  “I got scared.” 

“That can’t happen, and you know it,” he said seriously, his large frame casting a long shadow to your left as he leaned into your space. “You can’t keep secrets - that’s piloting 101. We’ve got to handle it. You know what’s at stake here.”

You did; you did, and that was entirely the problem. It wasn’t just feelings, it wasn’t just your relationship with Seungcheol at stake. It was your relationship with your co-pilot - your ability to fight was at stake, your ability to keep others safe. Your legacy.

Your parents’ wall of pictures flashed in your mind.

“I’m going to my mom and dad’s for a while,” you said quietly. 

He nodded, let you run away - trusted you to come back to him when you were ready, trusted you to let him in.

You weren’t sure if he was right or wrong, as you walked away and left him behind.

You didn’t go to your parents’, though. Instead, you went to the tech bay and sat, watching Duellona undergo simple repairs from her fight. You stayed there, the metal cold beneath your thighs, watching the tech team buff over a scratch on your jaeger’s torso, until someone dropped into the spot next to you, bumping their shoulder roughly into yours.

“Where’s Seungcheol?” Wylie, who co-piloted Fury Striker with Chan, was your closest friend in the Dome besides Seungcheol. 

“He’s pissed at me,” you answered, looking sideways, because the question had really meant, why isn’t Seungcheol with you? 

You weren’t sure she’d understand what you were going through - she and Chan had been obsessed with each other since they were kids. Neither of them had ever had to fear that their love for each other would mess anything up. It had been part of their deal from the start.

“What’d you do?” Wylie demanded, turning her full, unfettered attention on you. You wanted to shrink from the intensity of it - but that was always how Wylie worked: full wattage, all the time.

“Almost got us killed by a fucking Cat-1 tonight,” you muttered, angry at yourself, angry at your heart.

Wylie smacked your arm hard enough to send you sideways. “Cherry!” she scolded. 

“There was something I didn’t want him to see.” You said it in your head first, weighed the words, then forced them through your teeth. You hoped she’d just know what it was, hoped you wouldn’t have to force those words past muscle and bone, too.

Wylie’s face dropped into irritation. “Cherry,” she repeated, disappointment dripping from the two syllables.

You looked up at Duellona Fury again. 

“You can’t do that,” she told you, giving your ankle a little kick for emphasis. “You know you can’t do that.”

You can’t love him? Or, you can’t keep secrets from him?

You didn’t ask. You didn’t want to know the answer.

Seungcheol was waiting up for you when you finally returned to the dorm. You opened the door to find the first room - an entryway and kitchen, both - dimly lit. Beyond it, in the small sitting space, Seungcheol sat facing the door, his chin in his hand.

You knew the look on his face. You knew it so well that you almost ran from it, almost turned right around and went back out to the hallway.

Brows slightly furrowed, mouth a straight line, jaw tight. Eyes focused, locked in. It was the face he made in training before he bodied someone. It was the face he made in the field before an offensive strike. It meant he had his sights on a target, a problem, and he was about to throw everything he had at it.

And right now, you were the problem.

“Hey?” you tried meekly.

He nodded. Licked his lips. Stood. 

He’s pissed at me, you’d told Wylie. The energy radiating from your co-pilot was much more complex than that, the air around you palpably tense and teetering.

“How was it at your parents’?” he asked, voice low. 

You took one tentative step closer. “I didn’t go,” you admitted. One lie between you was already more than you wanted. “I watched them patch up Duellona instead. Talked to Wylie a little.”

He nodded, eyes still on you. Nervousness coursed through you, but it would be a lie - another one - to say it wasn’t laced with a little excitement. He was stunning, always, but like this - it almost took your breath away.

If he was in your mind right now, there’d be no question. He’d know all of it. The attraction, the desire, the fear, the affection, the love, the need. All of it. 

His eyes caught on a bruise peeking out from the short sleeve of your top. “You should’ve had them look at that,” he said, reaching out like he wanted to run his fingers over the dark splotch, but he was just too far away, fingertips closing around the air just an inch or two away. 

You shook your head. “You needed attention first. You carried the neural load alone.” Because of me.

“Only for a minute.”

“A minute too long. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

It hung between you. You don’t know if you’d inched forward or he had, or both, but you were close enough to touch now when you hadn’t been just seconds ago.

He lifted his eyes, his gaze locking on yours. In the dim room, his eyes shone black. “You pushed me out.”

It was an accusation, but it was also a question.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, barely able to say it, your voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Seungcheol, I was scared.”

Maybe he was in your head. Maybe he did know all of it.

“Don’t be,” he told you. “Don’t be scared.”

His arms were around you though you didn’t see him move. It wasn’t the first time you’d let him embrace you - after a fight, in relief, or in victorious delight, or sometimes just in sleepy affection at the end of a long day. It was far from the first time that you’d found comfort in the space between his arms, strong and capable around your frame, your forehead pressed against his sternum as his heart beat directly into your bones. 

But it was the first time that his fingers, confident and sure, tipped under your chin, guiding you to look up at him, guiding your mouth to meet his.

You don’t know if you melted or exploded - it was somehow both at once. You gripped his back, feeling the muscles move beneath his t-shirt, relaxing into his hold and focusing on the feel of his full lips firm and hungry against your own. This was everything - everything you’d wanted, everything you were afraid of, everything you needed, everything that could rip your life apart.

You didn’t mean to whine, but it slipped up your throat and into the gasped space between your lips and his as you tried to pull in a desperate breath. He responded with a grunt, walking you backwards until the edge of the kitchen counter jutted into your lower back. His hands traveled, up to the back of your neck, back down to the slight curve of your waist, around to the back of your ass. He tugged your hips against his roughly, and you let your head fall back, panting, head spinning.

“Cherry,” he breathed against the newly bared stretch of your neck, his lips close enough to drag against your skin as he spoke.

Your hands found the back of his neck, gave the slightest tug upwards, and he followed, bringing his mouth back to yours. His tongue pressed yours briefly, your moan muffled entirely by his mouth as you tried to press him closer, closer, as if you wanted your rib-cages to meld, to slip together like fitting puzzle pieces. 

His hand slipped lower from your ass and wrapped around your thighs, taking only a second to lift you onto the counter behind you. You wrapped yourself around him immediately, pulling him into the space between your legs, arms around his neck, pulling him in, wanting to feel every bit of him against you. 

His hands found the hem of your shirt and lifted; you raised your arms in compliance and felt the cotton slip over your head and your hands.

“Yours,” you murmured, but he had already reached back between his shoulder blades, his own top joining yours on the floor.

Your hands found him on their own, sliding over his skin, fingers dipping between muscles, thumbs sweeping over shadows.

You kissed until you turned liquid, molten, your fingers wrapped in his hair. His fingers mapped every inch of your skin, as if his job was to report back on every previously unknown dip, every rough circle, every beauty mark or blemish. His fingers traced them all, his hands passing over you reverently.

The brush of his bare chest against your own was torturous; delicious until you were full, until you couldn’t take it anymore, until the electric-sharp thrill became uncomfortable. You tilted backwards, creating more space between your torsos but pushing your hips firmly into his.

You both groaned at the contact. You could feel the heat and weight of him now, and everything instinctual within you urged you to shift further, to bring that heat and heaviness closer to the part of you that ached for it. 

He pressed his hips into you without reservation, your core clenching in response to the movement and the friction. 

Then he leaned back, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, his arms bracketing you on either side, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing. He drank you in, his eyes as molten as you felt. You leaned back on your elbows and met his gaze.

The moment expanded; nothing existed but his eyes and the pant of his breath and the way he smelled like he’d just finished a fight and the way he felt between your thighs, unmovable and steady.

Neither of you was connected to jaeger machinery, but you may as well have been, because you knew without a shadow of a doubt that your minds were connected, the drift be damned. Your eyes locked, you knew he felt everything you felt - the gravity of what you were doing, the love that drove you, the fire coursing through you. If there was going to be hesitation or questioning, this was the moment, this was the pause. But you were one, your minds were one, and there was none of that. 

His unvoiced question definitively answered by the certainty that flowed between you, Seungcheol moved to lift you again, taking you easily from the countertop into the dark of the room you share, settling you on your back on his bottom bunk.

Above you, mostly shadowed, was your other half, the only person who knew and understood every cobwebbed corner of your consciousness, the only person who had walked through your mind and found himself mirrored in every way that mattered. He was beautiful in the fractured light, his expression serious and gaze intense. 

You reached up to slide your thumb along his jaw and his eyes fluttered closed, his breath leaving him as in relief, as if you’d made some kind of admission. 

Making love to Seungcheol felt like drifting. His eyes on you as his fingers pulled you apart felt the same as the careful way he’d watch you when your memories got emotional, like he was watching for any sign that you weren’t okay, that you needed more or less or him. 

The way his breath and shoulders shuddered when he pressed into you for the first time felt the same as when he faltered in face of his father’s memory; both times, his fingers laced through yours and held tight until you could both breathe again.

He felt how you’d always known he would. Perfect - a perfect fit for you, a physical compatibility you had never tested but had always trusted would be there. He took you apart without even trying, and all you could do was hold onto him, feel all of him, feel all of it, and try to remember to breathe.

You didn’t speak as you moved together in the dark; the only sounds in the tight room were muted gasps, tiny moans muffled against necks, skin on skin, the obscene squelching sounds that accompanied each snap of his hips. You didn’t say the words that your lips tried to form - it’s so much, go slow for a little, Seungcheol, I love you, more - please, don’t stop. Maybe he heard them. Maybe this was a different way to drift, one that didn’t need wires.

You did your best to hold his gaze, losing sight of him only when you strained up to kiss him, when you nuzzled your face into the warmth between his neck and shoulder and gasped against a wave of sensation, when you couldn’t help but close them as they rolled back, your toes curling. 

He pressed his forehead to yours when he finished, your name slipping out of him, as if it had been literally squeezed from his lungs. “Cherry… Cherry…”

You lay together in silence for a long time, feeling your hearts slow, your skin cool. Your thumb traced his jaw again and again, slow, worshipful. “Cheol,” you whispered. My Cheol. My everything. You didn’t say the rest as you lay together in the quiet, in the dark, your heartbeats competing. 

You didn’t know that you’d drifted together for the last time. You didn’t know that your ability to neural connect could be broken.

–

The wind whips around you, stinging your face. You barely flinch. When you’d first relocated here, three years ago, the cold had made you literally cry during your first month. Just from having to walk from the door of the dormitory across the yard to the mess hall dorm, the intensity of it had sent you spiraling into misery - damning the circumstances that had sent you here, away from everyone and everything you knew and loved, to a place where the air hurt. 

You were sure it would hurt, this intensely, forever.

But time eased the sting, and despite your doubts you did adjust. Now the early morning wind feels bracing and refreshing rather than painful. You’ve adjusted to a lot of things since relocating to a small training center in Alakanuk, Alaska: the climate, the food, the no-frills campus you lived and worked on. Being away from your parents, from Wylie and Chan and Seungkwan and Jeonghan and all the other pilots you were friends with at the Shatterdome.

Being away from Seungcheol. Being partnerless, a half instead of a whole. 

Being unable to pilot, unable to fight. 

Being brokenhearted.

Just like the cold, the pain of your losses was the same - the sting of heartbreak and loneliness and homesickness faded to something ignorable, something you could keep tucked tight in the back of your mind. 

You can hear the noise from inside the mess hall before you even cross the courtyard. There are short of fifty girls ranging from ages seven to eighteen being housed here, but from the noise you’d swear it was at least a hundred. 

The buildings are single-storied, painted with a heavily-chipping grey-blue that sometimes seems to belong to the mist you often get rolling in from the ocean. When you’d first come, you’d legitimately thought they were painted that way as camouflage, meant to blend in with the sea. The other trainers had a good laugh about that. 

As you cross the courtyard between the trainers’ dorms and the mess hall, you breathe deeply, eyes on the birds alight above you. After a lifetime in the Shatterdome, you don’t take for granted the fresh air you’re afforded as you pass between buildings, outside, the sky open and changing above. You don’t take for granted the rhythm of the ocean, the cries of the gulls, nor the distant treeline.

It was Seungcheol who had noted that you were sheltered, having never lived outside of the Dome. 

It was Seungcheol you could blame - at least halfway - for your relocation here, where there wasn’t a jaeger or even a city for hundreds of miles. 

When you pull open the flimsy door to the mess hall, the noise triples. Several of the girls call out to greet you, and you give them a quick wave as you head to the table where the staff eats.

“You’re later than normal,” one of the other instructors notes as you reach for a piece of bread.

You shrug lightly, unbothered. “Still have plenty of time before the first class. What day is today, Thursday? I’ve got the little ones first, right?”

The all-girls training center is meant to teach fighting and the groundworks for drifting, but no jaegers are housed here, no teams launch into the icy bay. The girls here will grow up to pilot - if they get selected, if they get paired with a partner. 

You’re mostly here to teach them to fight, the way you trained in the Dome, but you do plenty more. Help brush hair in the mornings, console tearful faces, teach games and sports, mediate arguments. You also got sucked into running one literacy class a week, though you still haven’t figured out how that happened. 

It would be a lie to say this wasn’t fulfilling, that you didn’t love the girls you cared for, that you weren’t happy here with the ocean and birds and trees and laughter. In many ways, the seclusion of this training center is exactly what you needed to get back on your feet, to find strength in yourself, to heal with distance and time.

But, god, what you would give for a real fight. What you would give to feel both loved and threatened by Wylie, to rib at the guys, to hug your mom. What you would give to hear Seungcheol’s teasing pout, to catch his gaze across the span of your jaeger and know what his body and yours will do, to feel his fingers just barely graze your back when he knows you need to be reminded to focus.

The final time you’d tried, the neural connection never took. It was like trying to connect with a stranger. It had simply been still, a thing that was never alive.

“Don’t do this,” Seungcheol had begged, and that had been the nail in the coffin.

Don’t do this, he’d said. It had landed like blame. Like everything was your fault, and only yours. Like you had broken the connection on purpose, were keeping him out, barricading your mind from his when you desperately wanted everything to go right back to normal.

After that failure, you didn’t tell him you were asking to be reassigned. You didn’t want to give him the chance to say don’t do this a second time.

You’ve just ended a class, the girls starting to filter out through the training room’s side door towards the mess hall for lunch, when the center’s Administrator calls your name from the door.

“There’s a call for you on my line. I have them holding.”

A call? 

Adrenaline races through you; it has to be an emergency. Your parents and friends can reach you on your own device, which is tucked into your back pocket. To call the mainline here at the center means this is a base-to-base call, not a personal one.

You’ve only been in this office a handful of times in your few years here, and you shuffle awkwardly around the desk and pick up the receiver that sits abandoned on the chipped, wooden desktop. 

You greet the person on the line with your real name. 

“Cherry?”

Your Marshall - your old Marshall, from the Dome - sounds unsure if he has the right person on the line. No one has called you Cherry in three years. Even your parents have used your given name the few times they’ve said it on your weekly calls home.

“It’s me,” you affirm. “Is everything okay? My parents?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, and you heave a relieved breath. “Everyone is fine. This is official business. I want to call you in.”

You shake your head, frowning, well aware that he can’t see your reaction. Your body has said no, but you force yourself to ask, “Me? Why?”

“We’re down a few teams,” the Marshall says. “And -”

“You’ve got more recruits than places to put them,” you counter before he can finish. “Call one of the new teams up. Call three new teams up. You don’t need me.”

“We do - we need teams with experience, teams that are ready. Not rookies bumbling around looking for mistakes. We need precision. We need Duellona Fury.”

Your Marshall lays out the situation: the teams that are out, the problems they’re having at the breach - less time between attacks, more monsters at once. You’ve seen this before, you all have, and there’s protocol in place - protocol that starts with all hands on deck. 

You shake your head again. From the door, the Administrator of the center watches you seriously, like she knows you’re being taken away. 

“Marshall, with all due respect, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” you admit. “What can I give you? I can’t pilot Duellona.”

Not anymore. 

The Marshall sighs, like he knew this argument was coming and didn’t have a good response. 

“I think you can,” he says finally. “I’m not saying it will be easy, and I’m not saying it will happen quickly or without effort. But I think you can.”

“No,” you say, the first time you’ve voiced it. “You were there. You saw what happened. We can’t drift anymore.”

“You couldn’t then,” he points out. “That was three years ago. You’ve both had a lot of time to…. You’ve both had a lot of time since then. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift… they’ve had time to mellow.”

This blow knocks you into silence. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes steadfastly on the warped wood of the desk, fingers toying absently with the Administrator’s pen. 

He’s wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing had mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did three years ago. The splitting ache in your chest that you’ve felt every day since you became aware of loving him has only worked its way deeper with time. 

And Seungcheol’s anger? The anger and betrayal he’d leveled at you, when he was sure you were keeping him out of your head on purpose? You couldn’t speak for him, but if you had to guess, there weren’t enough years in a human life to let that hurt mellow into something safe enough to drift with.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

The Marshall hesitates. “Not yet.”

“You might want to do that first,” you point out. “Before flying me back only to have him refuse.” 

The Marshall’s voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. “Mr. Choi will follow orders,” he says evenly, “and so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.”

“You can’t order us into being able to drift again,” you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest. 

“No,” the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, “but I can - and will - order you to try.”

The girls cry when you tell them you’re leaving, and it makes you want to cry, too. You hold it together as you give them hugs, hold it together as you pack your single bag of belongings. You hold it together in the passenger seat of the center’s only beat-up van, waving out the back window as the training center fades away.

It’s standing on the deck of the ferry, the coast receding and the sea wind clawing at your face, that you let it go. You bury your face behind your hands and feel it release behind your ribs. You cry for all of it - for leaving the girls behind, for leaving a place that had sheltered you like a sanctuary. For the time you’d lost at the Dome, for the fights you’d sat out, for the years with your parents and friends that had slipped away like sand between your fingers. For your fear that Seungcheol will turn you away, just as hurt and angry as he was one thousand and ninety-five days ago. 

You’d been so determined to keep him from walking through the depths of your love for him, in the drift. You were so scared it would be too much, too intense, too much emotion for the drift. You’d been scared it would be too much for him - that the weight of it would inherently ask for more than he could give you in return. You’d been scared it would ruin your partnership, your compatibility, your capability to co-pilot.

But that had happened anyway. You almost have to laugh. 

As furiously as your tears begin, they peter out quickly. You take a few deep gulps of salty air, use the backs of your hands to wipe at your cheeks and beneath your nose. As you calm down, you keep your eyes on the horizon, your hands tight on the ship’s railing, and you let your mind wander back to Seungcheol. Here, thousands of miles away, you let yourself think back to those last weeks before you left the Shatterdome. You let yourself wonder, for the first time, what exactly caused everything to crumble.

You’d been so afraid to let Seungcheol into your head once the loving him had taken over. Why had it scared you so badly? As you keep your eyes on the grey of the horizon, you puzzle it out in your mind.

Had it been the uncertainty? That had certainly played a part. Did Seungcheol love you, back then? If he didn’t, everything between you could have changed - your friendship, your partnership, your ability to drift. It hadn’t seemed worth the risk to lose it all - his presence in your life, your ability to fight together. 

But maybe he had. If he did love you, back then… that would have changed things, too. What if starting something romantic affected your drift? There were too many maybes, too many variables. It had seemed safe to push it all down, to try and keep him away from it. To try and keep things the same.

Of course, you’d lost it all anyway.

Even if he did love you three years ago, you think as the sea air whips around you, did he love you the way you loved him? What if it had been too much - the way you could breathe once he was with you, the way you kept each other in check - what if he had loved you, but not that much?

Had it been a mistake to keep him out? Maybe. But it could have been just as catastrophic to let him in. There was no way to know, now.

You turn away from the ship’s railing, away from the horizon and the sea, away from your mistakes. There’s no use looking back like this. You can’t change it. You aren’t even sure you can fix it.

You were hoping to sleep on the plane, but you’re woefully awake well after take-off. Determined not to keep ruminating on what had happened before you left, instead you wonder what awaits you now.

The most-likely scenario, you think, professional and polite - but cold. Like you, he takes duty and responsibility seriously. The airplane bumps, a pocket of air jostling the small craft, and your hands find the armrests and cling tight until it stops.

The best case scenario, of course, would be that enough time has passed that Seungcheol’s hurt has faded. Maybe, you think, maybe he’s moved on from harboring that anger. Maybe he’ll greet you warmly, maybe you’ll pick up right where you left off.

This hope, this day-dream, aches, so much that you blink it away and turn to watch the clouds through the window, a desperate distraction. You crave Seungcheol - you crave feeling safe with his arms around you, you crave the elation you’d feel when he entered the room you were in, you crave the peace that comes with two minds engaged in neural handshake - the peace of someone’s mind interlaced with your own, understanding you, operating with you, picking up half of your mental lift.

You crave his giggle when you say something stupid in the dark of the dorm before bed, his pout when he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention, you crave his voice echoing in your head long after he’s gone asleep because you heard him talk to you all day long. 

You crave his lips on yours, his teeth on your neck, his hands on your body, even if you only had it once. You’ve craved it ever since.

You crave closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to his sternum, feeling safe and quiet and like you belong. You miss the sanctuary of that space, chest to chest with him, something sacred in the way it exists only for you.

You know you can’t have it - any of it. The daydream isn’t real. Your curse will be to crave it forever, alone.

When you arrive at the Shatterdome, it’s your parents who greet you just inside. For a moment, you’re happy to be back, overcome with emotion as you hug them tight. They’ve aged in these three years. You’ve missed them awfully. You only tell them the latter. 

They walk with you to the Marshall’s office, where you’re meant to report upon arrival. 

You hesitate, covering the moment by tugging your duffle’s strap higher on your shoulder. Your mother reads you anyway, reaching out and giving your shoulder a squeeze. 

“It will be okay,” she whispers. 

Your father catches on. “You’ve faced down worse,” he reasons. 

You disagree. There’s no monster in the sea bigger than your love for Seungcheol, no wounding possible that could hurt more than losing him has. But you appreciate the sentiment, so you give them each a grateful nod, tell them you’ll visit after dinner, and turn to knock on the door.

“Come in,” the Marshall’s voice carries through the door, and you turn the knob and step inside. 

All you see is Seungcheol; the Marshall, the office furniture, the flickering screens on the walls all snap into nonexistence in the presence of your former lover. He’s the only thing in the room that comes into focus. Everything else is just fuzzy noise.

His face wavers for a moment when your eyes meet his, the muscles rippling as he fights to get them under control. 

You don’t know what reaction he’s fighting. You don’t know if he’s feeling happiness or hatred. You don’t know if he’s fighting a smile or a scowl.

You give him a quick bow in greeting, and he returns it. His face is stone, now, his mouth tight and eyes flat. 

He turns to face the Marshall, to receive orders, so you do the same.

“I trust your travel went well?” the Marshall begins.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Even the single syllable of yes will come out of your mouth like gravel and dirt and sand, getting everywhere, leaving a trail.

“Your orders,” he says then, a bit of a sigh on his tone - as if he knows the uphill battle this will be, “are to reconnect as best you can. You’ll follow your old schedule. You’ll spar, you’ll meditate, and you’ll talk. After some time, we’ll try the drift again, see if the connection has recovered any.”

Seungcheol’s voice startles you when he speaks. “How long do you imagine it will be before we try?” he asks, just cold enough to have a sliver of sarcasm in it. 

The Marshall’s eyes narrow, just slightly, as if he’d caught it. “That’s entirely up to you two,” he says evenly. “When you were young and hungry to fight, you trained yourselves into exhaustion. You spent every waking second trying to cultivate the bond that would carry you into your jaeger. With the same intention and drive, I imagine you could be piloting Duellona within the week.”

You fight to keep your chin up, your eyes on the Marshall, instead of ducking your head and watching the floor. The Marshall lifts his arm and glances at his watch. 

“Your allotted time in Sparring Room 7 begins on the hour,” he says. This is his way of dismissing you.

In the hallway, you pause. “I’m just going to drop my bag in the dorm,” you say quietly, not looking at Seungcheol. 

He gives a tight nod. “Fine,” he says, and turns to go the other way, towards the sparring and training rooms. Clearly he intends to meet you there. You heave a deep breath, and turn back towards the wing with the dorms.

Stepping into the dorm you used to share with Seungcheol hits you harder than you thought it would. You’re not sure what you expected - to feel like coming home, maybe, or perhaps to be slapped with the memories of you and Seungcheol together, dancing around each other as you hurried to get dressed for a drop, lazing around in the sitting area after a full day of training. And, of course, the single night you’d spent together.

Neither thing happens. You aren’t overcome by a feeling of nostalgia and love, nor are you inundated by memories of what you’ve lost. Instead, the room feels exactly as it is: empty and still.

Your footsteps’ echoes taunt you as you walk through the kitchen, the sitting area, and into the bedroom. It’s pristine to the point of detriment; it feels like no one lives there. You set your bag on the floor near the foot of the bed - you can unpack later, after training - and turn to go.

Strangely, it’s stepping into the training room that slams you with memory and nostalgia. The wood cool beneath your feet, the vague smell of sweat and citrus-y cleaner, the sounds of punches landing and grunts of effort from the training rooms on either side - they all cocoon you in history, making goosebumps rise on your arms as the emotions surround you.

It makes sense, you think, as Seungcheol glances over his shoulder at the sound of your arrival. He doesn’t speak to you, just swaggers to the center of the room and takes a stance you recognize from Form One. Your body leads you opposite him, muscle memory guiding you into the first form you ever learned with him. It makes sense that this would be what felt like home - your minds going empty together, your bodies following the steps in unison. The sparring forms are the closest you can get to drifting without an actual neural connection.

Well, that and sleeping together, but you don’t see that on your agenda.

You stare at him across the invisible circle between you and try to read him. His face is cold and empty, but that already tells you so much about what he’s feeling. Seungcheol was never cold with you. When you fought together he slipped into that mode you loved so much - ready to level anything, chin lifted, eyes narrowed, confident and so very strong. But it was when you were together outside the fights that you had loved him best - often pouting, lips protruding, voice lifting into a whine. And the best of all - that smile, dimples creating shadows that beg for your thumb to press them, eyes squeezing shut with happiness or laughter.

Something must show on your face, because you watch the muscles in Seungcheol’s upper body untense, as if he’d been ready to fight and recognized that you weren’t.

“I’m good,” you mutter quickly, before he can ask. It feels better to lie to him before he actually asks you, like that’s somehow less dishonest. “Let’s go.”

Form One is basic - no hits, no fancy moves. At the training center, you’d teach it to the littlest ones until they had it memorized. It was really about control and communication - precision and alignment with your partner. You had to breathe together as your feet traced opposite circles across the knots in the wooden floor. You had to rise and bend in unison. It was about watching and listening.

You and Seungcheol could - literally, you’d tried more than once - do it blindfolded in perfect step with one another. Before. You don’t know if you still can. But, now, unblindfolded, it’s too easy.

You move through forms one through six without incident - both of you flowing as easily as water.

Form Seven is the first form that incorporates actual hits and blocks. You’ll have to touch for the first time, even if it’s forearm to forearm or ankle to shoulder. You move right as he moves left, crouch and circle as his right foot flies over your head, stand and punch where you know his open hand will be waiting to stop you.

It is, and you press your fist against it for just a second before spinning away to continue the form. You ache, even as your body continues following the steps, to have him entirely again - to meet his eyes and smile the way you both used to, because you were pleased with what your bodies could do. Because you had each other, completely.

After the tenth form, you bow, turn, and walk out of the ring. You drink some water, your back to him. Years ago you’d have used this break to chat, but you don’t know what to say to him. You’re scared that he’ll shut down anything you say, whether you choose small talk or go straight for the heart of the problem, and you honestly don’t think you can shoulder his rejection right now. So you stay quiet.

After a few short minutes of rest, you return to the center of the room. This is when you’ll spar for real.

You and Seungcheol had done this for years before things went wrong. You’d long ago adjusted to how hard you should hit, how to dodge his moves, how to make this a dance as much as a fight. Now, you feel like it’s your first time again.

Seungcheol attacks as you’d expect - all offensive, pushy, succeeding in herding you backwards even as you dodge each blow. You know his goal is to flip you, and normally you can avoid that by forcing him to go on the defensive as he avoids your own hits. Simply dodging won’t be enough - eventually he’ll cage you in unless you distract him.

You throw yourself into a summersault and manage to get behind him - an opportune moment to strike. You shift your weight to follow the blow as you twist your hips to send a kick towards his unprotected head. He turns just too late - the blow will land.

You can’t do it. You freeze, your core working to keep you upright as you fight your own momentum, halting the kick inches from his temple.

You know immediately that pulling the hit was a mistake. His eyes narrow, and he sweeps his foot at the ankle you’re balancing on. You crash to the ground, heaving a breath and taking quick inventory.

You aren’t hurt. Not this time.

“Get up, Cherry,” he says darkly, moving back to the center to start again. “And don’t do that shit again.”

He comes at you full force in the next match, too. You dodge and weave, but you don’t try to strike. You know he knows it; this isn’t how it used to work. You can almost feel him get angrier as you fight, but you can’t make yourself hit back. You want him to knock you down, you deserve to take some shots.

You take two blows to the back and one to a shoulder; you fall back unsteadily but manage to find your footing and roll away from his next kick.

The match continues - you taking a handful of blows, though none with the force to level you, and Seungcheol with his lip curled in fury.

“If you’re not going to fight, then leave,” he spits.

“Would if I could,” you retort without thinking. You mean that you don’t want to be here like this - not talking, cold, at odds. But you know it reads as not wanting to be here at all.

It seems like everything you say and do only hurts him more.

“I didn’t mean -” you start, and Seungcheol takes your arms and flips you over his shoulders.

“Don’t waste my fucking time,” he says, brushing his hands together and stepping back to give you room to pick yourself up.

“Don’t curse at me,” you answer, pushing yourself to your hands and knees, pausing to catch your breath before rising fully again.

He shakes his head, rolls his eyes a little.

You hate this side of him.

You know you deserve it. For pushing him out. For leaving him here. For loving him, messing everything up, when he never asked for that.

“Seungcheol,” you say, but he ignores you, pacing a few steps and then turning to face you, lowering himself into a defensive stance, ready to spar again.

“Cheol,” you try again. “Listen to me.”

“Marshall scheduled us time to talk later,” he says flatly. “Right now we’re scheduled to fight. So fight me, Cherry. Let’s go.”

The rest of the hour continues the same. By the time it’s over, Seungcheol storms out without speaking to you, furious over every single pulled punch.

You don’t know what to do to make it all better.

You shower quickly, dressing in dry linens, and then re-emerge for the hours you’re scheduled to meditate together. You hope that maybe this will help the situation - maybe not talking will be good for you, give you a chance to feel your connection without the chance to fuck it up with words.

You’re wrong; trying to meditate together is just as desperately fruitless as sparring had been.

You can’t focus at all - can’t shift your attention to your breath, to your body, to the earth beneath you, to the energy of your partner.

Your partner is the distraction, though he sits perfectly still, eyes closed. He might as well be yelling. His shoulders are tight, his jaw still clenched. Anger radiates off him so strongly that it makes your stomach hurt, makes you want to cower from it. You can’t stop watching him, hoping you’ll see him relax, hoping you’ll see the moment that he lets go.

He doesn’t.

“Your eyes are supposed to be closed,” he murmurs, and you feel your face heat, embarrassed that he knew you were watching him.

“I can’t,” you admit. Maybe, you think, you should just be brutally honest, starting now. It’s not like you could make this worse. “I can’t stop noticing how angry -”

“Then stop pissing me off,” he snaps, eyes opening. “Just a suggestion.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” you cry, and push yourself to stand. You’re not sure why - maybe just to pace. “You never used to talk to me like this. Who are you?”

He looks at the floor, the first sign of guilt you’ve seen since you came home.

“Fine,” he finally bites back, and you know it’s as close to sorry as you’ll get. “I’ll reign it in. Sit back down.”

You shift your weight, arms crossed defensively across your chest, and close your eyes, deciding.

“Sit down, Cherry,” he repeats, and it’s gentler now. That’s what makes you cave, and you settle back across from him.

He’s less tense this time, so you eventually manage to close your eyes and count your breaths. But you’re still feeling for him, reaching for him in your mind, and coming up with nothing between you fingers. Touching him is as possible as touching the fog that used to blanket the training center, thick enough to blind you but impossible to grasp.

The pain feels like a cramp, except it’s behind your ribs instead of in your muscles. The pain grips and tightens, takes over. You want him, you want to be his again, you want to be inside these walls - where you used to fit comfortably. The fact that you’re out here, without him, aches so badly it makes you nauseated.

You want to beg him - let me in again, let me back in, let me be close to you again.

It won’t do any good, and you know it.

He was yours - you had him, you knew him, you could reach out to him and he’d pick you up. You’d taken it for granted, and you’d run away from it. You’d chosen to let it go, and now all you get is this: Seungcheol, cold and closed. Seungcheol, hating you for everything that happened.

—

Dinner is just as bad.

You go to the mess hall eager to see Wylie and Jeonghan and Seungkwan and all the other friends you haven’t seen in years. Wylie screeches like a banshee when she spots you, crossing the mess hall in a blur and hugging you so tightly that you both stagger, off balance, until Seungkwan joins the hug and rights you again.

“I missed you both so much,” you whisper, the only vulnerability anyone’s going to get out of you today.

“Then don’t leave again!” Wylie snaps, but you know the admonishment is full of love.

“I can’t promise,” you admit. Honestly, you’ve already made up your mind - you want to go back to Alaska. You’re not wanted here, not by the person who matters. What good are you, taking up a bed, if you can’t drift?

You’ve already given up hope that he’ll come around.

Seated at the table, you listen while your friends fill you in on what you’ve missed in three years - the fights in the bay, the new teams of pilots, the illnesses and injuries. You almost don’t notice Seungcheol silently takes a seat on Jeonghan’s other side, but something in you prickles, like you’ve sensed him.

The tension around the table heightens; the conversation goes a little stilted. When it’s apparent that he’s going to ignore you two seats down from him, Wylie slaps her hand flat on the tabletop.

“Come on, Seungcheol,” she scolds, and you’re sure no one wonders what she means.

His face goes dark so quickly it’s alarming. “Don’t,” he tells her darkly, one finger coming up to point at her in warning.

Her own eyes narrow and dart to her fork. Beside her, Chan’s eyes pingpong between them. He’s probably wondering if he should hold her back or join her.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, grabbing your tray and making to rise. “I’ll go.”

“Cherry, no,” Wylie protests, and then turns a glower onto your ex-co-pilot as if to say see what you did?

“It’s fine,” you repeat, standing. “I told my mom and dad I’d come by.”

You slink out before anyone else can argue.

You can’t even be mad at him - you did this by pushing him away. You hammered every last nail in the coffin by requesting to transfer. You pushed him out and you left him behind and now you have to face the reality that you can’t have him anymore. He isn’t yours, not anymore.

When you return to your dorm, he’s already in bed, the lights out. He’s facing the wall so you can only see his back, can only see the angry, tight shoulder poking out the top of the sheets. It tells you everything you need to know.

You don’t try to talk to him. You just go to bed.

—

You spend four days identically - fighting while sparring, not meditating, and avoiding Seungcheol’s ice-out. On the fifth day, your Marshall loses patience and changes your schedule. Your entire day is blocked to working on Duellona’s mainframe - buffing, repainting, greasing, and anything else you’re able to handle on your own.

“Since you can’t do anything else useful,” he adds, and you avoid Seungcheol’s eyes, ashamed.

Standing under Duellona’s unlit frame fills you with guilt. It feels like you’re letting her down, disappointing her by letting her rust here, failing your half of the bargain. You run your hands gently over the metal, finding the rough spots that need attention. Somewhere to your left, you can hear the telltale sounds of Seungcheol tightening bolts.

You work in silence for hours.

Eventually, you crack. You’re not sure if it’s the monotony of the task, the tension woven into the silence between you too, or being so close to your jaeger but unable to fight in it - maybe a combination. Something pushes at you from the inside, like a balloon trying to inflate under your skin and running out of room.

You flop backwards on the metal walkway, the grooves digging into your back. “What are we doing?” you ask, and you hear the tool Seungcheol had been using cling loudly as he sets it down.

“Following orders?” he says, stepping around Duellona’s side to look at you. “Fixing up the jaeger?”

“Fixing up the jaeger we don’t get to pilot?” you ask, sitting back up to look at him better.

“Is that what you’re here for?” he asks, the sudden ferocity of it surprising you. “To fight? Is that why you came back?”

You reach up to the walkway’s railing and pull yourself up. You feel yourself frowning at his question, at the heat behind it. 

“I’m back because the Marshall gave me an order,” you say slowly. 

“And that’s it?” he demands. 

You stare at him. You feel sure there’s more to the question, more that he’s asking. You feel sure, after knowing Choi Seungcheol down to the last molecule, that he’s really asking, you didn’t come back for me?

And it confuses you. You try to think about your split from his perspective: you’d shut him out, then slept with him, and then vanished. You’d made a lot of assumptions about his anger since then. You assumed he was angry at you for pushing him out of your head. You assumed he was angry at you for sleeping with him and then leaving. You assumed he was angry with you for ruining your drift, for ripping him away from the ability to fight. You assumed he was angry because he never knew why - never knew what it was that you were so desperate to hide, never knew why sleeping together had made things so much worse that the neural connection had fizzled into nothing altogether.

Is there more to it, his anger?

Should you call him on it, should you ask?

You take too long deciding. Seungcheol scoffs, like he’s disgusted with you. “I should have known,” he says coldly. “Princess of the Shatterdome, I should have known you only cared about piloting - about your legacy.”

This is something you’ve never said to him - that your desire to shine as brightly as your parents has weighed on you. This is something he’d pulled from the drift, something he only knew from tiptoeing around your mind before a fight. 

“That isn’t fair,” you say, your voice hard. “Is there another reason I should have come back? I’d love to hear it.”

He hears the challenge as it is - you didn’t ask me to come back, the Marshall did. You let me go.

He has nothing to say for himself, just stares back at you, eyes narrowed in anger, chest moving too quickly as he battles with his temper.

“Exactly,” you say curtly. The victory stings. It doesn’t feel like a win at all. “The bottom line is I’m here now, and we can pilot again if we can get our shit together.”

He shakes his head. “You left,” he says finally. “That’s the bottom line. You decided you were out, you decided you didn’t want me in your head, and then you left.”

He watches you, waits for you to say something. When you don’t, he lets out a derisive little laugh. “We’re both wasting our time here. The drift won’t work. We aren’t going to fix it.”

For the first time, fear slices through you like steel. “You can’t know that,” you say. You hear the fear in the way your voice comes out low and rounded, barely sounding like you at all.

“I can,” he retorts. “You know how I know? Because I don’t want to. You wanted me out of your head so badly? You got it. Can’t turn back now.”

He heads for the ladder, swings around and finds the third rung down with ease.

“So that’s it?” you ask his retreating form. Your heart is hammering and you’re starting to get tunnel vision. 

The only answer he gives you are his feet hitting each new rung with a clunk and a vibration that rattles up your legs.

—

You go to the training rooms alone and run through the forms just to do something; your mind turns the problem over and over as your body goes through the motions. After, you take a longer shower than normal, letting the water run hotter than you normally would.

After, you go to the Marshall’s office, determined. Or maybe resigned.

When he opens the door, he already looks irritated, like he knew exactly who would be on the other side.

“Requesting an audience,” you say flatly, fighting the instinct to cross your arms defensively.

He glances at his watch. “Five minutes.”

You step inside but leave the door open.

“I’m requesting transfer back to Alakanuk,” you tell him as evenly as you can manage. You’re sure he’s not surprised. “Seungcheol has made it very clear that we won’t be fighting together again. If that’s the case, then I can’t do anything useful here. But in Alakanuk I can.”

You pause, looking to see if you can read anything on the Marshall’s face - any hint that he’s considering what you’re saying, or that it’s a lost cause. He gives you nothing.

“Please,” you say. “Those girls need me. If I can’t help here, I can help them.”

The Marshall tilts his head just slightly. “Surely anyone can teach little girls the forms.”

You shake your head. “It’s more than that, and you know it. It’s not about the forms. I love those girls. I came back here to follow orders, and I tried. But if it isn’t going to happen… Please, don’t make me waste time here if I can be with them instead.”

The silence when you stop speaking seems to last for hours. Your heart pounds, and you work on keeping your breathing even. If he tells you no, you might just lose it, just give up entirely.

Finally, he takes a breath and seems to consider you. “If,” he says, and your eyes widen with hope, “your co-pilot agrees, then I will reassign you back to Alaska. But only if he will agree.”

“No problem,” you say quickly. Seungcheol was the one who said it was over. He should have no problem letting you leave.

When you step out of the Marshall’s office, Seungcheol steps out of the shadows. You should be surprised to see him, but in the Shatterdome it feels right that he just is wherever you are. That’s always how it was, before.

You look at him disdainfully. “I assume you heard that conversation?”

He nods, once.

“So?” you ask. “Will you tell him you approve, so I can go?”

For the first time since you returned, Seungcheol smiles, tight and sarcastic.

“No,” he says easily, like it’s kind of funny.

Fury erupts inside you; you can’t even pinpoint where in your body it stems from. “Why?” you demand. “Because you feel like I took something from you, so you want to take something from me?”

He doesn’t respond to this. You know you’re right. You know him. You know his mind.

“I hate to fuck up your narrative,” you spit at him, “but I’ve lost out here just as much as you have. You’re not the only one who lost the ability to fight. You’re not the only one who lost their partner.”

You wish you could tell him the rest - you’re not the one who spent three years with a broken heart on top of it. He had lost you as a partner and a friend - you had lost him in the same ways, and you’d had to harbor your broken heart.

He shakes his head. “Poor baby,” he bites sarcastically, and then takes off down the hallway, into the dark.

—

You stop sleeping at the dorm. Sometimes you sleep at your parents’, sometimes on Wylie and Chan’s tiny couch, sometimes in bed with Seungkwan, who kicks at you and whines that you take up too much space. Sometimes you sleep inside Duellona Fury, sitting up, your back against her metal frame.

The Marshall seems to have taken some pity on you. He schedules your mornings training the Dome’s recruits, and lets Seungcheol get back to what he was doing in your absence - which seems to be on track to move up in rank, to maybe become a Marshall himself, someday. It isn’t quite the same as being back with your girls, but training recruits feels at least somewhat fulfilling. And it keeps you and Seungcheol busy - separately - until afternoon.

Then, he schedules you to spar.

In your first week, you’d been unwilling to hit Seungcheol. You’d been feeling guilty for hurting him, sad for your time apart, hopeful that if you were soft to him, then he’d be soft back to you.

Now, you’re fucking furious.

For the first time, when the match begins, you hit him first. He’s surprised for only a second, eyebrows shooting up as he stumbles for balance, and then you watch something delighted and devilish fall over his face. Like he knows exactly what dance this is, and he’s been learning the steps in secret.

The match is brutal, reminiscent of your very first one, when you were both nineteen. You throw hit after hit his way; he blocks or dodges all of them. But he can’t get a hit on you either - you’re too quick, spurred on by fury. You’ve been angry in a fight before. But you’ve never been angry at him.

You spin and throw up a kick, expecting his forearm to rise and block it. Instead, you knock him in the jaw.

He grunts, hand flying up to cover his mouth, and you drop your stance with a gasp.

“Shit!” you cry, hurrying closer. “I’m so sorry! Are you bleeding? Let me look.”

“‘M fine,” he mutters thickly from behind his hand, but you ignore him. For a second, things are how they used to be between you. He lets you peel his hand away, lets you gingerly turn his head this way and that, even opens up so you can check his teeth.

“You’re gonna have a fat lip,” you tell him regretfully. “But nothing’s bleeding. Teeth look okay. Anything loose in there?”

He pokes around his teeth with his pinky. “Nope.”

You take a step back, cowed. “I’m really sorry.”

He laughs a little, wryly. “I bet you feel better, though.”

You bite back a smile. “Actually…” you say, and he laughs again. You both do.

Somehow, this seems to be the thing that cracks the anger you’ve both been encased in, unable to move forward or backward. You feel melted, and you wonder if he feels freer now, too.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you say. You mean the kick, but the words land heavy.

He avoids your gaze. “I need some water,” he says, turning and heading to the side of the room.

You do the same, sitting heavily on the bench where your water waits for you.

“Hey,” he says, and you look over, brows raised in anticipation. “Tell me about Alaska.”

You can’t help but smile.

“It’s so beautiful,” you tell him. “God, Cheol, the ocean there. And the birds, and the snow…”

He’s watching you, listening, but while he listens he stands and heads to the center of the ring, settling into a starting form. With a small smile, you follow, standing opposite him. He starts an easy match that’s mostly just following the eighth form. It includes some hits and blocks, but you both do them gently, easily, circling each other slowly.

“So you liked it?” he asks. You can hear how hard he’s working to make it sound casual.

“It was so beautiful,” you admit before ducking below a kick. “But it was also… really hard.”

“What was the best part?” he asks.

You smile, block a hit. He almost gets his hands on you for a flip, but you dodge around behind him. He turns to follow you. “Weirdly, it was taking care of them outside of class. We - the instructors - we kind of their moms, away from home, you know? I’m the one who knew Yejin won’t sleep unless someone sits by her bed for a while. I’m the one that knew that Farrah and Salome only argue because they’re competitive. I’m the one that knew that Maria and Anjali don’t know their times-tables, that Ximena can’t brush her own hair, or that Iseul is allergic to fish. I loved them. I loved knowing them.”

He looks at you for a long time. “Maybe you should go back,” he says finally.

It feels like a trap. 

You look at the floor, at the wall, then finally back at him. “If you’ll do this for real,” you say carefully, “then I’d rather be here. If we’re actually trying, then I don’t want to go.”

He’s quiet for a long time. Finally, he swallows hard, not looking at you.

“What was the worst part?”

There’s only one answer.

“Missing you,” you say. “Losing you.”

He manages to get both of your arms and hauls you over his shoulders. You land on your back so hard that the air is knocked out of your lungs and your eyes close protectively. For a second, you lay there panting, waiting for the pain in your back to settle down, waiting for the stars behind your eyelids to calm.

When you open them again, the ceiling coming into focus above you, the room is empty.

–

You have a hunch on where you can find him, and you head to the jaeger bay. Sure enough, he’s sitting below Duellona, knees to his chest, staring up at her.

You sit next to him and he doesn’t get up and leave, which you take as a good sign.

“I can’t do this if you’re not all in,” he tells you without looking at you. “You walked away from me once. I can’t let you back in my head if there’s any possibility you’ll walk away again. If you’re with me, I need you to be with me.”

Something prickles in the back of your head. You feel like you’re starting to realize something - the seed of an understanding is pushing delicately through the dirt, but hasn’t yet spread out its leaves under the warmth of the sun yet.

Something about his hurt. Something about why.

“I think we should try to drift,” you tell him.

This seems to startle him - he forgets to be cold, turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I can tell you how much I missed you,” you reason, “and tell you about how I spent every minute just… steeped in regret. Or we can walk through it - you can see for yourself.”

You know what you’re risking. If he gets into your head now, he’ll see it all - he’ll know everything, he’ll be able to feel for himself the depth of your loss, the height of your love. 

But what’s the harm, now? You can’t lose him twice. Maybe it’ll be enough for him to realize you hadn’t left him because you didn’t care about him. Maybe it’ll be enough for his forgiveness. 

Maybe then, he’ll tell the Marshall to let you go back to Alakanuk. 

It’s Seungkwan you bother, since he’d been in mission control before finding his team of co-pilots. The sideways look he gives you as he walks to your conn pod is withering, but you know better than to take it personally.

You buzz with nerves. The last time you’d tried this, the neural handshake hadn’t even connected. There had just been nothing.

The second you hear neural handshake initiating, you almost sob with relief. You can’t even pay attention to the memories - Seungcheol’s memories - floating around you; you want to collapse, to press your palms to the ground and thank the universe for letting you back in.

His first memories are a breeze - the ones you’ve jogged through together hundreds of times: his first home, his school, his father’s hospital room, the Dome. Then you slow your pace, because this is new.

You’re facing the landing dock on the Shatterdome’s roof. Seungcheol stands with his back to you, watching through the glass walls as a helicopter waits, the pilot talking into his headset.

You watch yourself walk towards the chopper’s open door. You watch yourself leave, remember how hard it was to not look back.

You hadn’t known that Seungcheol had been there, that he had seen you go.

The pain that accompanies the memory hits you like you’re drowning, like it’s too deep and you can’t feel the bottom, and you feel the machinery falter around you.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “I’m with you.”

He nods, still doesn’t look at you. But the beeping stops, the connection holding. 

There’s knowledge in this memory, knowledge in this pain. Seungcheol’s thoughts in this moment read in your head as clearly as if he said them aloud - I did this. I pushed her too far; I made her run.

You can’t stay here, can’t let him wallow in the memory of pain. You had to move forward - that’s how the drift works. Reluctantly you step towards the door, glancing over your shoulder to see if he’s following. 

He is. His jaw is tight and fists are clenched, but he is.

When the next memory - not in order of chronology, clearly - appears before you, you want to vanish into the floor. You’re watching yourselves in Seungcheol’s bed. Thankfully, you’re sleeping - this was after. But in the memory, Seungcheol is awake, laying on his side, his eyes drinking in your sleeping form.

The emotions and the knowledge come with it in an instant. The tenderness and the love he felt in that moment surround you now in the memory, unignorable, impossible to mistake. 

He had loved you. He had known you loved him, and he was showing you how he felt. The understanding slams you so hard that you think you stop breathing.

“Seungcheol,” you whisper. Around you, the scene begins to flicker, the connection starting to react to the oversaturation of emotion.

“We can talk about it after,” he says, voice hard. “Don’t stay in it. Find the next door.”

Your eyes find the door, but you feel frozen. You want the connection to drop, you want to unlock yourself from the stupid drive-suit and throw yourself into his arms, you want to apologize for leaving him thinking he’d pushed you away, thinking that he scared you into running.

“Cherry,” he warns. “The drift can’t -”

You know. 

And you owe him your side of the story.

You take a steeling breath and head for the door. You don’t take his hand. You don’t know if you deserve to, if he’d want you to.

When you step through the doors, you’re confused - you’re still in your dorm. Your bodies are both in the bed.

Now, though, Seungcheol sleeps, and you - the memory of you - sits on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. 

You feel the emotion the memory holds, which means Seungcheol does, too.

Fear. It’s still fear - fear that he’ll know, fear that what you just did together will make it worse, make it harder to hide. 

Beside you, Seungcheol’s eyes go wide. 

“We have to move on,” you tell him. He looks at you, then back at the memory. 

“You -?” he starts to ask.

“After,” you tell him firmly. “We’ll talk after.”

You open the door, and you’re suddenly outside, surrounded by white.

Alaska.

The emotion knocks you over with the fury of an ocean wave - even though you know you’re not supposed to let it. This was how you had felt every day that you were gone, and it screams at you now, determined to be heart, determined to be felt. The loneliness, the regret, the despair and heartbreak all rise up in you, overtaking you, as snow falls gently and silently around you.

And the love. That never went away. That never mellowed, as the Marshall had put it.

If he didn’t know before, he has to know now. There’s no way he couldn’t.

Seungcheol squeezes your hand, and you almost jump. You look down at your linked fingers in shock, then up at him, eyes wide.

“We should go back and talk about this,” he tells you, but his grip on you is firm, assuring.

“Okay. It’s this way,” you tell him, trying to breathe, and you lead him by the hand through the snow. The fog strengthens as you walk, until you can’t see anything but grey, can’t see anything but Seungcheol’s hand in yours.

You continue on. You know where to go. When you step through, the fog vanishes as if it was never there, nothing gradual about it. With the fog gone, you can see clearly where you are - inside Duellona Fury’s conn-pod.

As you begin to work on the straps, you call through the intercom, “Kwan? We… need some privacy. We’ve got to talk - alone.”

His voice crackles back at you. “Yes, I’m leaving, I’m already gone. If you hear popcorn crunching, no you don’t.”

Seungcheol gives you a flat look. “Let’s go home and talk,” he suggests.

Home.

You are so afraid and so hopeful. You don’t know how to juggle both.

Back in your small living space, you sit like you’re meditating.

“Let’s figure this out,” he says. “No lies.”

“No lies,” you agree. Your knees touch, and you reach to take his hands. He lets you, giving your fingers a squeeze.

“You knew,” you say first, bordering on accusation. “I was trying so hard to hide how I felt about you… but you knew.”

He nods, his eyes on you. “And you,” he says slowly, “didn’t… know? That I knew?”

You shake your head, confirming. “I didn’t know. I thought I hid it.”

He smiles at you, a little placating. “Not as well as you would have liked.”

“And you…” You chicken out, swallow, force yourself to be brave. “You… loved me, too?”

He nods. “I did.” 

The air leaves your lungs so forcefully that you bend over, pressing your forehead to the tops of your hands. He pulls his hands from yours and you feel his touch, firm and reassuring, cupping your shoulders and rubbing his thumbs along them.

“We felt the same,” you echo into your shins. “You loved me.”

“Cherry,” he says above you, his voice like a plea. “I don’t understand why - when we… when I… I felt like once I forced you to look at it, it was too much. You ran.”

You sit with this for a minute, stunned and processing. His hands are back in yours, which you take as a good sign. 

“You thought… wait. You thought, after that night, that I knew how you felt, too?”

He nods. “I thought you knew,” he says, confusion still present in his tone. “I thought we both knew. I thought if it was out in the open, the glitch in the drift would be fixed.”

You wipe at your face, trying to breathe. “And instead,” you realize, “we couldn’t even connect, because I was still trying to hide it from you, and then you were hurt. I thought it was broken. I thought we really broke it forever.”

He looks at you in wonder. “That’s why you left,” he breathes, and you know he’s understanding this for the first time. “You thought we made the problem worse.”

It’s your turn to nod. “After we…I mean, I knew if I couldn’t hide it from you before that night, there was no chance I’d be able to hide it after. I kept you out in the first place because I… was afraid. I was afraid for you to see how much I loved you. It seemed… hopeless to keep trying.”

The words lay bloody between you, but his grip on your hands is strong, and you take another breath.

You push on, adding, “I was afraid it would be too much. I was afraid everything would change.”

Which it did, you think. He nods, like he hears this, like he agrees.

He releases you and leans back, blowing out a loud breath. “We’re so fucking stupid,” he says, and you splutter out a laugh.

“We really are.”

“I can’t believe we lost three years over that,” he says.

“I can’t believe you thought it was your fault that I left.”

“I can’t believe you left in the first place.”

This makes you smile, guilty. “That’s fair.”

You push yourself to stand; Seungcheol mirrors you, as if you’re already in the neural handshake, bodies working in tandem. 

“Cherry,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “It could never be too much. I love you. I’m crazy about you. I’m only me when I’m with you.”

You remember him, the night you’d slept together, telling you, don’t be afraid. He’d told you, after all, and you’d missed it entirely.

You close the distance between your bodies and kiss him hard. His arms circle your waist immediately, like they were waiting for you. He kisses you back hungrily. His mouth meets yours eagerly, his tongue stroking yours confidently before he shifts his attention to your jaw, your neck, then your mouth again. His hands don’t wander this time - instead he holds you so firmly it almost hurts, like he won’t let you move an inch, won’t let you out of his grasp ever again.

You cradle his face between your hands, let your teeth gently scrape along his bottom lip. “Cheol,” you whisper, then kiss him again. “You’re everything.” It’s what you should have said aloud the night you’d slept with him.

When the kiss breaks, he presses his lips to the top of your head and holds them there, melting around you a little. You give his middle a squeeze, revel in his heartbeat surrounding you like music.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t just say it.”

“Me too,” you tell him, holding him just a little tighter. “I should never have tried to hide it from you in the first place.”

He kisses your temple, and you hold each other, silently, each grappling with the time you’d wasted apart. 

You’re interrupted by a knock. You break apart, puzzled. You’re even more puzzled to see your Marshall at the door, and Seungkwan literally bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“I’ve heard your drift is working again,” the Marshall says dryly. 

You look over your shoulder at Seungcheol, grinning. “Seems like it.”

“There’s a Cat-1 reading in the bay. I was about to alarm for Pretty Savage to drop, but Savage’s team insisted I give you the opportunity first. They can follow as backup. How do you feel?”

Seungcheol is at your side. He looks at you, his face open and raw. “Well?” he asks you. “Are you in, or are you out?”

“I’m in,” you tell him seriously. “I’m with you.”

You thrum with excitement as a tech team helps strap you into the drive-suits, and you can’t help but shoot Seungcheol a wild grin, your happiness alive and unbounded. 

You tell mission control - Nainsi, probably, just like the old days - “Ready and aligned.”

Mission Control - definitely Nainsi - responds, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

The artificial voice bounces around you - 3… 2… 1… neural handshake initiating…

Around you, the machines flicker busily. Neural handshake strong and holding. Now calibrating…

You’re crying, but you ignore it. You beam through tears, looking sideways at your co-pilot. His eyes dance as he smiles back at you. You want to unstrap yourself to the drivesuit and go kiss his dimples, the dimples you hadn’t seen in years. You resist the urge.

“Ready to drop?”  He looks sideways at you, sly. 

You scoff at him, your own grin cocky and sure, like you’re twenty again, like nothing had ever been broken between you. “Been ready. Let’s light ‘em up.”

– end

thank you so much for reading!!!!

stay tuned for more fics in this universe! Wylie and Chan will get their own fic written by @sailorrhansol, as will Woozi! I'm also planning a Vernon x Reader in this universe, too! Should be a fun time!!

[misotsukiiyeooo]

You could write a Seungcheol where he's worried because you've been sad for days, and when he asks why, he's surprised when you say it's because your kids are growing up and you miss having a baby at home.

Tks (:

"Just one more?" Part 1

Pairing:Husband!Father CSC x F! Mother!Reader

A/N: This is such a cute req!! (I didn't know if you wanted a fluff or not so this one's a fluff, but I could possibly make a pt 2 smut if you want! hope you enjoy!(PART 2 IS UP!)

Genre: Fluff + Angst

Word count: 3.3k (not proofread)

Synopsis: You've been pretty sad for a while now and Seungcheol wants to know why.

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3

Seungcheol has been watching you, and he knows something's off.

Down to you pouting every time you look at the kids to you frowning all the time you guys talk.

You're all at the mall right now shopping for clothes and he's pushing the cart with your youngest son and daughter sitting in as he holds the oldest son's hand.

He notices you stop at the baby section picking up some little girl shoes. "Mommy, those won't fit me anymore!" Your daughter, Jieun giggles at her Mother.

Y/N seems unfocused somehow. "Oh..you're right. Anyways let's get going yea?" She looks at me "Yeah, I think we got everything we needed."

He brushes off whatever happened not putting too much thought into it.

It's the next day, Monday, meaning the kids go to school Seojun, the oldest goes to 4th grade while Jieun goes to 2nd leaving Dohyun in daycare.

I make their breakfast and pack their lunchboxes while Y/N gets them dressed.

They come out of the room one by one to eat and Y/N comes out holding Dohyun and putting him in the high chair getting ready to feed him until he decides to grab the spoon, attempting to feed himself. Y/N pouts at the sight of this.

We get into the car and you can't stop thinking about your grown babies.

Dropping them off is never easy, Seeing Seojun wave goodbye and walk into the school himself then Jieun who looks back and smiles before leaving.

The only person you actually walk to their class is Dohyun, but at his age, he doesn't even wave bye, too invested in a shiny toy he spotted. Entering the car Seungcheol looks at you. "Is everything alright Babe?" He caresses your hand. "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know...you seemed a little out of it for the past week." He focuses back on driving as the light turns green. "Really? I'm fine really." Trying your best to reassure him earning a nod.

Arriving home you sit on the couch and turn on the TV.

A Pampers commercial pops up and you can't help but frown. Seungcheol sits beside you and turns off the TV, "Y/N look at me, you can't fool me I know something's wrong, and I hope you know I'm here for you."

He looks into your eyes fondly. "It's nothing really, just some thoughts..this is stupid."

Fidgeting with your fingers, he holds them. "It can't be stupid if you've been thinking about it for a week." He waits quietly for you to talk. "Well, the kids, our kids are growing up so fast...and I kind of miss that feeling of having a newborn baby.."

Seungcheols eyes widen, completely surprised. "That's what's been making you sad? So what you're saying is you want another kid?" You nod looking away.

"Baby, our oldest is only in 4th grade, let alone Dohyun's in daycare."

"I know but you've seen what happened earlier when I went to feed him? he took the spoon himself.."

He chuckles leaving you confused. " I see, so that's why you were looking at little girl shoes and pouting whenever you see the kids playing."

"That's not funny" You look at him trying to hold back his laughter. "It's not funny you're right, it's silly how you held that in for so long.

"You know if you wanted another baby that bad you could've just asked me. I'm always open to seeing another little you walk around the house."

Smiling at the thought, you blush, hitting him lightly, "Don't just say things like that!" Seungcheol giggles, "What? I can't say how I'm willing to give my beautiful wife whatever she wants? Even if it's a fourth child?" He looks at you, eyes big.

"Really? just one more?" You put your pointer finger up. "Yes, just one more, if that's what you want, that is."

Reqs are open!

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[fundingconnect]

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[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (07)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n;; im gonna be honest, i had no clue as to how im gonna write chapter 7 so i took a short break. that ended with me diving head first into love and deepspace which now has led me to a new obsession – Sylus. if you saw that post i made abt LNDS a few weeks ago, that has manifested into a side blog @chaeriescola where i’ll be posting my-non kpop related fics (read: Sylus & Zayne brainrot) also, i’m on Patreon now !! if you join my Patreon, you’ll get early access to the fics (a week early before they get posted on tumblr & ao3), exclusive bonus content, sneak peeks of other projects etc. if you’d like these special treats, feel free to join 👀 enough of me yapping, onto the fic~

Seungcheol wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he tasked Mingyu and Vernon to look after you – considering how they both absolutely suck at understanding the whole “look after ___ for me but, don’t let her catch you” concept. He’s seen them tail behind you, possibly raising concerns in some students and staff whether they were stalking you from the moment they spotted you.

coups: can’t you two be more discreet? coups: you both look like you’re the worst stalkers gameboi: ? tallgyu: I think we’re doing a good job alien-non: yea, she hasn’t noticed us gameboi: you really got Mingyu and Hansol to tail after ___? gameboi: no offense to all 3 of you gameboi: but Hansol’s logic is practically gone if Mingyu’s leading tallgyu: HEY alien-non: I suggested we wear disguises but Mingyu didn’t want to! tallgyu: those weirdly shaped sunglasses are way too obvious coups: what you’re doing now is way more obvious! tallgyu: she hasn’t noticed us tallgyu: it’s fine hyung coups: Vernon alien-non: yes coups: you know how aware ___ is of her surroundings coups: she’s probably already spotted you both gameboi: but chose not to say anything

As if on cue, when they both turned a corner, they were both startled to come face-to-face with you, arms crossed, staring right at them.

“You’ve both been following me for the past hours, can I help you?” you ask, eyes narrowing when they both exchange a look.

“Well…” Mingyu started, “We… We just wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost…?”

Vernon mentally facepalms at Mingyu’s response while you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “To make sure I wouldn’t get lost…? On a campus I’ve been attending for at least 2 years…?”

“Seungcheol hyung wanted us to look after you,” Vernon confesses, “I don’t know why, but he just told us to keep an eye on you.”

“And, so, you’ve decided to follow me around?”

“Mingyu was the one who suggested it…”

“You both would make terrible secret agents…” Seungcheol mumbled as he came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sent glares to the two younger males. “Cheol, I’m a big girl now – I can handle myself!”

“I know, I know,” he admits, “And, I’m sorry, pup-”

“Pup? You call her ‘pup’?” Your ears burned red at Mingyu’s question, forgetting that not everyone grew up with you and Seungcheol or knowing the reason that he calls you that.

“It’s a nickname I gave her while we were growing up,” Seungcheol answers, “And, it stuck with her since.”

“She grew up with you? Oh, you poor thing,” Mingyu faked cries as he pulls you into an embrace, “He must’ve picked on you non-stop.”

“Actually, he didn’t pick on me.” The taller male pulls away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your answer. “He stood for me and may or may not have threatened the people that did pick on me.” He looks at Seungcheol with a look of betrayal, “That’s not fair! Why does she get special treatment while you keep picking on me!?”

Seungcheol pries Mingyu away from you, his arm returning to its position on your waist as he answers, “Because you’re Mingyu, and she’s… she’s ___.”

‘Well… this is… awkward…’ you thought to yourself as you sat in front of Wonwoo, one of the other boys you had briefly met that night. Seungcheol suggested you meet the three of them altogether, mainly Mingyu and Wonwoo since you were already best friends with Vernon, to somewhat break the ice.

‘Choi Seungcheol, you ass, this is anything but breaking the ice! If anything, this is increasing the freezing point of the ice!’

Unfortunately, Seungcheol’s plan of grabbing lunch together is now facing a setback. You had no classes that day, Wonwoo finished his, but Seungcheol, Mingyu and Vernon were being held back for their classes.

“Seungcheol, I’ve only met him once!” you whisper-shouted into your phone, “And, neither of us exchanged a single conversation since!”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol answers, wracking his head to come up with solutions, “But, this lecturer is talking so slow that I have no choice!”

“What about Vernon and Mingyu?”

A sigh was heard, “Apparently, the model was being fussy about how she should be posing for their portrait. The lecturer needed her to be partially clothed, but since Mingyu was in the class… You can fill in the blanks…”

You let out a sigh, looking into the windows of the cafe as Wonwoo sits at a booth near the pick-up counter, “How much longer until you all are able to get here?”

“Probably an hour… And another 20 minutes to get there. Hey, you and Wonwoo both like drinking coffee and are introverts! Maybe you both can try talking to break the ice.”

Oh, boy, did Seungcheol underestimate the introversion you and Wonwoo possess. You had initially tried to have small talk with him, only to chicken out when he looked at you with that piercing gaze through his glasses. It’s been half an hour since you sat down at the booth with him, your strawberry milkshake sitting on a coaster as he goes to order possibly his third cup of cappuccino.

When he returns with his drink, you can’t help but ask, “Isn’t that… too much caffeine…?”

Wonwoo seemed a bit taken back when you finally opened your mouth to talk, but he recovers quickly and shrugs, “Honestly, after drinking caffeine for years, you kind of grow immune to it. You should’ve seen Mingyu’s reaction when he found me sleeping after downing 5 cans of Monster.”

“Five!?”

“Yes, five.”

“And, you were still able to sleep?”

“Like a baby.”

Wonwoo was surprisingly easy to talk to – you just needed to get over your social anxiety and the very intimidating resting bitch face he has. You’ve come to learn that the man in front of you was GAM3BO1WOO, a famous game streamer on SVTwitch. You’ve seen a few of his stream clips on your feed, but you weren’t exactly a fan of his since his taste in games and yours were vastly different.

“Do you play every new game release?” you asked, scrolling through his MAESTRO account and skimming through his posts.

“It depends, actually. If a new game really catches my eye, then I’ll download it. Other than that, either the companies sponsored me to stream their games, my followers keep requesting that I play the game they think would suit me or want to see me play. Sometimes, Mingyu and Cheol would gift me co-op games since a lot of them have the mechanic of if one player already owns the game, the second player plays for free.”

“Have you ever hopped on trends?”

“It drives traffic and increases my followers, can’t really complain.”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been conversing with Wonwoo. But, it was definitely long enough for neither of you to notice the three men standing right outside the window, watching you two fondly and surprised. “They’re… talking…” Mingyu says in awe, a chuckle from Seungcheol following afterwards, “Nice to know two of our introverts are getting along just fine.”

You noticed them from the corner of your eyes, turning to the window, Wonwoo following to look at them. You smiled, giving them a small wave which they returned while the latter gave a small nod of his head.

“Sorry for keeping the two of you waiting,” Seungcheol apologised the second he got to the booth, taking a seat next to you. Mingyu and Vernon took their seats next to Wonwoo after placing their orders at the counter. “Aren’t you going to get anything?” you asked the older male, looking up at him as you took a sip from your milkshake.

“I’m assuming you’re waiting for me so you can order some kind of snack which we either share or I finish the remaining you can’t.” When you don’t answer and avert his gaze, Seungcheol knows he caught you red-handed. He chuckles as he gets out of the booth and towards the counter, which unfortunately for you, leads to an interrogation by the other three boys – technically, it was mainly Mingyu with the occasional questioning from Vernon. Wonwoo just sits quietly, listening in as his eyes would dart between you, your two ‘interrogators’ and Seungcheol who was still lining up.

The two men asked you the questions you’d expect.

“How old were you when you met Seungcheol hyung?”

“I think… I think I was 5? He should be about 7 or 8?”

“What did he look like back then? Did he look like a nerd?”

“Well, he had the signature bowl kid every boy got when they were kids or teens.”

“Was he scary?”

“Kind of? Not a lot of people messed with me because of how protective he was over me.”

“Mess with little red riding hood, the big bad wolf will come and get you.”

All attention was on Seungcheol as he placed a plate of strawberry cake and a plate of a dozen brownies on the table, returning to his seat right next to you. Noticing the stunned expressions from his peers, he shrugs, “That was what they’d always say to anyone trying to approach her with ill intentions. It’s basically their way of saying ‘if you don’t want trouble, don’t go looking for trouble’.”

An easier way to put it was – if you don’t want to deal with an angry Seungcheol, don’t bother his girl. Your heart still flutters at how some people referred to you as ‘his girl’, but you knew that actually being his girl was nothing more than a dream to you. “By the way hyung, when’s your next fight? Maybe ___ could come and help out, y’know?” Vernon asks, reaching out to grab a brownie only for his hand to be lightly slapped by Seungcheol. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“If you want them, go get them yourselves,” the older male answers, pushing the plate of brownies towards you. “These are for ___. If you want one, go get one yourself.” Your face heats up at the gesture, and heats up further when the three males turn to you. “Why does she get special treatment?” Mingyu whines, “And how can she possibly finish that entire plate?”

Seungcheol pats your head as he answers, “Because she’s ___. And, yes, she can. If she can’t, I’ll finish it.”

“Can we have a piece if you’re the one finishing it up?”

“No, get your own.”

“Ah, hyung!”

You’ve managed to bond with Wonwoo and Mingyu, becoming close with them in a matter of days and now, you’ve got four ‘bodyguards’ walking around with you (Mingyu refers to them as that, the others and you just play along). The downside that comes with the friendship would be a flock of envious fangirls (and occasionally fanboys) who had begun to buzz around you like moths attracted to light.

“How did you become friends with Wonwoo? Could you ask him to shout me out on his streams or MAESTRO account?”

“Is Mingyu single? Could you introduce me to him?”

“Would you like to be friends? I’d love to be friends with the boys!”

Both boys could see you were tired of the clout chasers, especially Wonwoo since he knows you value your personal space. Both men had taken the issue to their social media, expressing how they’d appreciate it if their ‘fans’ stopped bugging their friends and loved ones in an attempt to get close with them. You remembered when both of them addressed the issue on Wonwoo’s stream, the sternness in both their voices still sent shivers down your spine.

“We understand that you may think you know us as we both are content creators and certain information has been released about us online. While we may not be able to put an end to the parasocial relationship that you have built with us, we do not know you and you do not know us. Do not harass our friends and loved ones, and if your unhealthy obsession of us persists, please seek help.”

That was enough for a majority of the fanboys/fangirls to back off. Some still linger, but they were no longer up close and in your face bombarding you with questions or requests.

Currently, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Vernon sat in a discussion room within the library as they waited for Seungcheol and you. It was a small meet-up, but it could also be treated as a short co-working/co-studying meet-up. Your class was ending later than usual and Seungcheol offered to wait for you so both of you could walk to the library.

Beauty and the Beasts

mingoo: @princess how much longer is the lecture gonna take?

princess: erm… another 15 mins?

princess: …

princess: who set my nickname as princess in the gc?

All four boys replied altogether and you playfully rolled your eyes.

mingoo: coups hyung

vernonnie: cheol hyung

nonu: seungcheol

cheol: i did

cheol: i got you your coffee order btw

mingoo: what about us?

cheol: you lot already got your orders before you headed to the library

mingoo: i’m assuming you got her snacks too

cheol: yes

cheol: and they’re only for ___

cheol: so don’t try to steal them

Mingyu lets out a groan as he lays his upper body on the table. “It’s not fair,” he whines, “Why does Seungcheol hyung give ___ special treatment? Is it because she’s a girl?” Vernon shrugs, “Maybe? But, he’s treated his exes the same way, too.”

“Yeah, I know that, Vernon. But, isn’t there something different?”

Mingyu sits up as he looks at Vernon, his words seeming to be hinting at something as the younger male sits in silence. “It’s like he’s more attentive, more caring. Like, he was caring before to the other girls, but there’s this extra layer to it, y’know?”

“He means there’s more than meets the eye,” Wonwoo says, “I think what Mingyu’s trying to say is that Seungcheol is whipped for ___.”

“Yes!” Mingyu exclaims, pointing at Wonwoo with a puppy-like grin on his face, “But, also no? I don’t know! They grew up together so maybe it’s like a habit he has or a sense of responsibility he feels?”

“But, who would want to call their childhood best friend who is now an adult ‘pup’?” Vernon questions, and Wonwoo tips his pencil in the younger male’s direction, “Precisely. Everyone would grow out of it, much less a nickname like that. Hell, would you call any of your friends that kind of name as an adult?”

Mingyu hums in understanding. All three of them knew just how shameless Seungcheol could be sometimes. Vernon bites back a gag when he recalls accidentally witnessing Seungcheol and his then girlfriend making out in his car, in the campus’ parking lot - in broad daylight. He pitied his therapist who had to listen to him ramble on and on about suspecting the older male having an exhibitionist kink.

“So, you really think he’s whipped for her?”

“Seungcheol barely remembers your favourite cake, but he remembers ___’s coffee order.”

“He probably has it written down somewhere?”

“I beg to differ,” Vernon speaks up.

He joined Seungcheol to get coffee a few weeks ago. While Seungcheol was ordering his, you had texted Vernon saying your Business Module class had completely drained you and you were in need of a quick pick me up. All he did was say, “___ wants us to help get her coffee,” and Seungcheol began reciting your order to the barista without a second thought.

“He knew it like the back of his hand! Not a single thing was missed out!”

As Mingyu and Vernon continue to discuss Seungcheol's love life, Wonwoo glances down at his phone as it vibrates, a notification from you. Opening up the text app on his laptop, he types out his reply.

___: hey woo?

___: is it ok if i call you that-

wonwoo: yes?

wonwoo: n yes, perfectly fine

___: ok

___: um, so the class im in rn, we’re almost done btw!

___: they need me to write some kind of paper abt how psychology n business work

___: n since you’re a psych major

wonwoo: you need my help, yes?

___: bingo

___: is it possible for you to help me?

wonwoo: sure thing

wonwoo: why don’t you go over the details with me once you’re out of class?

wonwoo: we’ve booked the discussion room for the entire day

___: don’t the others have class?

Wonwoo can feel Mingyu and Vernon standing behind him as they “observe” his conversation with you. “Oooh, you’re texting his girl~” Mingyu teases, earning a glare from the older male that shuts him up immediately. “She needs help with her coursework and I have relevant information that can help her,” he replies as he resumes to type out his reply.

wonwoo: seungcheol only has one class today iirc

wonwoo: gyu and vernon have some kind of workshop in an hour

___: oh, cool!

___: then i can also get cheollie’s opinion

“Do you think they have a thing for each other?” Vernon asks, seemingly picking up on certain signs just from the text Wonwoo had just exchanged with you.

“Who? Seungcheol hyung and ___?” Mingyu asks back and he nods. The taller male thinks for a while, recalling the times that he’s seen any form of interaction or exchanged conversation the pair have shared. “Maybe? But, there weren’t any obvious signs that explicitly showed that Seungcheol or ___ like the other.”

“Well, there is a saying that love is in plain sight. Or that whole “you were hiding in plain sight” trend that was going around CIRCLES a few months ago.”

“Should we play cupid?”

“I think it’d be best if we don’t interfere with their love life.”

Wonwoo had a point. While their curiosity was gnawing away, the last thing they’d wanna do is accidentally driving a wedge between you and Seungcheol. It would be worse if they were reading the room wrong and neither of you were harbouring any feelings for the other. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t find some clues to answer our hypothesis.”

Mingyu and Vernon looked at the older male who was still typing on his laptop. “Are we conducting experiments on them now?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I’d say it’s more of observing their interactions with each other.”

“We’ll leave the psychology part to the psych major.”

“If this ends up being your thesis paper, Woo, we’d better be given credits.”

Later that night…

gyu created the group Operation Cupid 💘

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetner @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnothelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @shingbangyes @black-swan-blog27 @minhui896

[calcahro]

Some Bits About Xiangli Yao

Because I've seen a lot of people going "who?" lol and I enjoy the Huaxu affiliation characters.

This includes content from:

Act 1

Baizhi, Jinhsi, Mortefi, Taoqi's profiles

Huaxu Academy NPCs

Huaxu Academy documents

Court of Savantae

To begin, Xiangli Yao serves as the academic leader of Huaxu Academy. He is an expert in Automata Mechanics.

Mortefi considers him his rival, he wants to outdo him. Those at the academy considers Mortefi #2 to Xiangli Yao. The two "met" years ago at a New Federation's (Mortefi's birth country) World Expo.

Taoqi (top) and Baizhi (bottom) lines about him, supports his profile description: "He is a gentle yet rational soul."

Yao is the person you hear Mortefi calling in the beginning of the story in the Academy, and we enter his room.

That unusual device is definitely for his arm. You can see similar structures in the abandoned Court of Savantae site at Whining Aix Mire. Maybe it means something since the researchers at CSC really needed Automata Mechanics at some point? I hope it does... (https://www.tumblr.com/calcahro/755456668925657088/xiangli-yao-court-of-savantae-goofy)

He made Jinhsi's electronic To-do list

The Sugar Pearl Vaccine was tested on him and his mother

And that's all the bits for now, I think. I know some NPCs outside of the academy have mentioned him as well.

[saythenametotheworld]

Message in a Bottle [2] | csc

Genre: strangers to lovers; fluff; slow burn Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Reader Warnings: mature themes, suggestive Notes: 14k words, song prompt was Message in a Bottle by Taylor Swift. The love this received was overwhelming. thanks sm. Synopsis: What's next for you and Seungcheol? You have no idea yet, but boy you're so eager to find out. Taglist: @brownsugarbaybee, @shuamorollss, @kpopficenjoyer

[Part 1]

Dinner was just okay. For you, at least. Everyone else seems to be having a good time. You’re not trying to be a spoilsport, but you can’t help but space out whenever you remember the encounter with Seungcheol earlier that night. It excites and enrages you at the same time. Part of you wanted to drag Seungcheol out so you could talk properly. Another part wants him to disappear and never show himself again. 

“He’s in the market. A little older, but he’s a great man. You can try shooting your shot,” the professor joked after one student asked if Seungcheol was married.

“Tell us, Seungcheol-nim; are you seeing anyone right now?” Sua chimed.

Seungcheol chuckled nervously, rubbing his hands over his thighs. “No, I’m not.”

His response was met with squeals from all the girls except you. When your gazes met, you raised an eyebrow at him as if to ask him what he was looking at you for.

“But I already have someone I like,” he added, not tearing his eyes away from you.

The girls squealed again, giddy and taken by the conversation. You, on the other hand, were looking away, trying to calm your heart. Seungcheol saw you get flustered but you rolled your eyes at him and started drinking with the others.

It was about 9pm when everyone decided it was time to go. The professor had to leave early, so Seungcheol—despite not wanting to do it, had to drive his uncle to his house. He couldn’t even say goodbye to you because he didn’t want to raise suspicions.

When your classmates suggested that you go for drinks in a nearby pub, you joined them intending to loosen up. But then your male classmates began hitting on you which was annoying, especially since one of them can't seem to take 'no' for an answer.

“I said,” you barked at the guy who kept badgering you with annoying questions, “LEAVE. ME. ALONE.” 

You turned to finish your conversation with Haeyoon but your jerk of a classmate jeered. “Why are you being such a snob? Do you think you’re so pretty because I’m flirting with you? Bitch, you’re just another girl in a pool or hundreds. I can find others way prettier than you’ll ever dream to be.”

“I can find others bleh bleh bleh,” you mocked, rolling your eyes. "Then go find them and leave me alone."

"Crude ass bitch."

"Why this little—" You stood up from your seat and looked around in search of any security personnel. When you spotted one, you pointed at him and shouted, “Excuse me! This guy is harassing us!”

“What? Me?���

The security quickly came over holding a baton and being followed by service staff. Your classmate was escorted out and while you felt proud of yourself, your other classmates seemed unimpressed.

“Damn it, y/n. You’re such a bore.”

“He was just joking around. No need to be so sensitive.”

These people are so wrong to contest with you when your liquid courage is in effect. “If you can’t stand it, then leave,” you countered, smirking.

“Yeah! Get your enabler asses out of here,” some of your female friends jeered.

“Go to a club or something!” Dahee, another close friend of yours, hollered.

Several of them started leaving but most of the girls stayed behind, drinking the night away and looking to get wasted. Your table was rowdy with laughter, giggles, games, and occasional gossip. By midnight, you were starting to feel numb so you stayed seated, barely participating in the games anymore.

“Y/n?” You looked up when you heard someone call your name. Squinting a little, you tried to recognize the man before you. “You’re pretty drunk. Do you need me to take you home?”

“What the hell? I thought you were him,” you pouted, rolling your eyes at Jinwoo. He just laughed.

“Who do you mean?” he questioned, holding your hand. “Come on now before you get completely wasted.”

“Jinwoo,” one of your friends called. “What are you doing here?”

Jinwoo scratched his nape. “Someone told me you guys were here so I came over.”

Haeyoon tilted her head. “Really? Come join us, then. It looks like y/n isn’t ready to leave yet.”

You grinned and raised your hand. “Absolutely not, love,” you chimed, taking the glass she was handing to you.

Jinwoo gave up trying to convince you and stayed to join you instead. At first, he was fun to have around. He was funny and joined in on the games. But a few drinks later, you noticed he was getting handsy so you tried to move away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked after you scooted away from him for the third time.

“Go away, Jinwoo,” you told him before standing up. You steadied your pace, keeping your eyes locked on the bathroom sign across the room. Just as you were about to reach it, Jinwoo caught up to you and helped you stand steadily.

“Let me help you,” he offered, placing his hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder. The contact made you shudder so you pushed him back.

“I’m fine, Jinwoo.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re not. Come on, just let me help.”

This time, he grabbed your waist with both hands. You squirmed, trying to get away but you couldn’t because the alcohol had weakened your limbs.

“Get off me, you–” You punched his face but it was too weak to do anything. He trapped your hands in his and pulled you in a tight hug.

“It’s okay, y/n. I got you,” he whispered in your ear, giving you goosebumps all over. He then grabbed a handful of your ass and you were so horrified that you gathered every energy in your body to push him away.

“Go away you asshole!” you hollered, nearly sobbing.

“Hey!” said Seungcheol, landing a heavy punch on Jinwoo’s face that sent him staggering backward. You fell on the floor, knees weakened as you watched Seungcheol being restrained and other people helping Jinwoo up. Your friends heard the commotion and they rushed over to help you up.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Jinwoo fumed, the corner of his mouth bleeding where Seungcheol punched him.

“You stay away from her!” Seungcheol hollered back, trying to attack but he was being restrained. “How dare you touch her, you fucking prick!”

“Fuck you!”

Seungcheol hissed. “No, fuck you!”

Everything else happened abruptly. Police were called and they were both taken to the station for questioning. As you sat with your friends in the waiting area, you listened to Jinwoo's rant about how Seungcheol attacked him and how he was the victim and Seungcheol should be locked up.

“Sir, no one here is getting locked up except you,” the police officer deadpanned. “This isn’t about physical assault. It’s a sexual harassment complaint.”

“Sexual harassment?” he repeated mockingly. “Who? Her?” he pointed at you. “I never harassed her. She was drunk and she was being clingy to me.”

“That’s not what the witnesses said.”

“Well, they’re all lying.”

The police officer rolled his eyes as if he was getting bored. “Are you sure you want to do this? My colleagues are obtaining CCTV footage from the establishment as we speak. I wonder what that video will tell us.”

Jinwoo closed his mouth and glared at you. You glared back, disgusted. He then looked at Seungcheol and then faced the officer. “What about me? I was assaulted. He attacked me.”

The officer shook his head as he toggled to his computer. “If you want, you can file a complaint against him. But if I were you, I wouldn’t dream of it. He was in the wrong but he acted out of protection for Miss y/n here. Plus he’s a lawyer. Don’t push your luck.”

Jinwoo swallowed upon hearing that Seungcheol was a lawyer. Seungcheol, on the other hand, looked at him with an arrogant expression, enjoying the sight of Jinwoo crumbling beside him.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Seungcheol asked for the nth time tonight. You pulled his coat tighter around your body and nodded. “That asshole.”

“Thanks for coming, Cheol,” you told him, smiling sheepishly.

“Yeah, thanks for coming Seungcheol-nim,” Haeyoon added. “How did you know where we were though?”

Seungcheol smiled. “I heard from someone.”

“Gosh, I still can’t believe Jinwoo did that,” Dahee mused. “I know he had a huge crush on you but I didn’t think he’d harass you like that.”

“Right? He didn’t look like someone who would do that. Was he just pretending to be a nice guy all this time?” Haeyoon sighed.

Dahee gasped in horror. “Guys, I think he did well hiding his true self.”

While your friends shuddered at Jinwoo pretending to be a good guy, Seungcheol tugged your elbow. “Should I drive you back to your apartment? Yoori and Seolhee must be worried.”

“Yeah, they’d probably freak out if they found out,” you chuckled, sighing. “Should I just keep it a secret?”

“You can, but for now, you should get some rest,” he suggested and you nodded in approval.

Your friend heard your conversation and interjected. “I’m sorry, Seungcheol-nim but we can’t let you take her home.”

“No, we can’t. No offense but we won’t feel at ease if we leave her with you. Especially after tonight.”

You chuckled. “Girls, I’m fine. I know him personally.”

“Are you sure? You personally knew Jinwoo too.”

Seungcheol cut in. “How about I drive everyone home?”

And he did. He drove you and your friends to your homes, all while keeping up with your friends’ questions. He told them you were a close friend of his when they asked how you knew each other. At some point, you tried to mediate and get them to stop being inquisitive but they kept going. You were able to relax only after Seungcheol had dropped everyone else and it was only just the two of you in the car.

You leaned your head on the backrest of your seat, closing your eyes to help alleviate your ringing headache. Seeing your tired expression, Seungcheol reached to touch your shoulder.

"Are you alright? Don't worry, we're almost at your apartment."

You hummed. "Thanks for coming, Cheol. But how did you know we were there?"

Seungcheol chuckled shyly. "I, uh... I went back to the restaurant and asked around until someone told me they heard you were going to that pub."

"You asked around? I thought you were a lawyer, not a detective?" you quipped and he laughed.

“You did well protecting yourself back there,” he told you, smiling as he squeezed your shoulder before letting go. “I’ll make sure to put that guy on the record.”

You scoffed, thinking that was too much of a punishment considering nothing major happened. But you didn’t try to change his mind because you too, want to make sure Jinwoo regrets his actions.

“I always believed I was a good judge of character,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Damn him.”

Seungcheol just scoffed as he pulled over by the sidewalk in front of your apartment. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You opened your eyes, peeked outside the window, and then looked at Seungcheol with a smile. Nodding your head, you said, “Okay. Let’s do that.”

Seungcheol smiled back, reaching for your hand and squeezing it gently. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

You were half-asleep as you entered the apartment complex. For a while, the house was filled with questions and worried expressions from Seolhee and Yoori. You’re not sure what Seungcheol told them but they eventually stopped nagging and brought you in to get some rest.

When you woke up the next morning, your head was so painful that you feared it would break. As you tried to rise out of bed, you found yourself sniffing and realized you had caught a cold.

“Argh,” you groaned, falling back into bed when you couldn’t find the strength to get up.

Luckily, it was the weekend and you had no classes so you stayed in bed all day, watching a romance flick and eating your sickness away. Seolhee took good care of you, although she never stopped nagging and scolding you. You took it all in stride, happy to receive her help without asking for it. You have yet to tell them about the incident with Jinwoo and while you have no intention to keep it a secret, you decided to put it off for later. As impulsive as they are, you feared Seungcheol would end up lawyering them both out of jail for physical assault.

It was almost dinnertime when Yoori arrived with some news. "You have a guest," she announced as soon as she walked into the apartment. You craned your neck to look in the foyer and found Seungcheol towing behind Yoori. Then you remembered that you made plans with him last night. 

“Cheol?” you called out, surprised. He smiled sheepishly, showing a small wave. You then noticed the paper bag in his hand as you strode over to greet him. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” He pointed to himself. “Oh, I heard you were sick so I thought I’d drop by. Here.”

“How did you know?” you asked as you took the paper bag of food and another bag from a drugstore from his hands.

“Yoori told me. I asked her because I was worried after you wouldn’t respond to my texts so… yeah,” he explained, flattening his lips into a shy smile.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Yoori called out. “Come in and join us for dinner.”

“No, I’m fine. I have dinner plans with my parents.”

“Are you sure? You should just eat since you’re already here.”

Seungcheol beamed. “I’d love to, Yoori, but I have to go.”

Yoori shrugged. “Alright, then. Maybe next time,” she said before heading to the kitchen.

You walked Seungcheol out of the door and bade him goodbye. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”

“I know,” he chimed, his face stricken with worry. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

You looked down at your feet, attempting to hide your flaring cheeks. “Well, you’ve seen me. I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

“Get some rest, okay? Let’s talk soon.”

You nodded, only glancing at him ever so briefly. “I’ll text you back.”

“Alright, y/n.”

“Alright, Cheol.”

“Alright…”

When you went back inside, you pouted at Yoori and said, “Don’t you care about my heart at all?”

“Why do you think I told him you were sick?”

“Why?”

Yoori snickered. “To see how he would react about it, why else?”

You rolled your eyes at her before sitting on your place at the table. Then you caught Seolhee's gaze and realized she'd been staring at you. "What?"

Seolhee tutted and shook her head in disappointment. "You forgave him too quickly."

"So what if she did? They both like each other."

"He made her ugly cry," Seolhee reminded. "You don't easily forgive someone who makes you ugly cry."

Yoori was shaking her head as she placed a plate on the table. "As long as he's willing to make up for it, he's fine."

"Wasn't it you who said you'll kill him?"

"Guys," you interjected. Your roommates fell quiet and you were able to eat in peace.

A whole month. That was how much time you had to get over Seungcheol. Although you didn’t completely erase your feelings for him, you were doing a good job getting over him. Just as you were about to move on, he had to come back and do this. He had to show up and ask you to try again. How many times has it been? Each time you find a reason to stop, he always comes strutting back in like he rightfully belonged in your life. You thought this time would be the last, but then he does it again. 

“I guess the universe wants to see us together,” you mumbled while you sat on your bed, scrolling through your phone gallery and looking at the pictures you took with Seungcheol. “Did it have to be this complicated, though?”

You tapped on his face on the screen, aggressively thumbing his head so the photo zoomed in and out several times. You were doing that when your phone rang and you accidentally tapped the End button to Seungcheol’s call. You gasped, shrieked, and dropped your phone in panic.

Steps thundered on the floor from outside before Yoori’s head peeked through your door. “What happened?”

You pouted at your friend. “Cheol called and I declined by accident.”

Worry left Yoori’s face almost immediately, replaced with that of deadpanned annoyance. “This bitch.”

Yoori left your room just as your phone started ringing again. You picked it up quickly and checked to see if it was Seungcheol. When you confirmed it, you cleared your throat and waited a few seconds before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” he greeted back, his voice reverberating beautifully in your ears. You had no idea you missed it until you heard it again.

“Hi, Cheol. What’s up?” you replied, hoping nonchalance would hide your excitement. “Sorry I hung up on your first call. I tapped the wrong button,” you told him, hoping he wouldn’t ask why. You’re not about to tell him you pressed the wrong button because you were giddily tapping on his picture!

“It’s alright. I figured that much,” he chimed. There’s a lilt in his voice, making you assume he was in good spirits at the moment. “What are you doing?”

“Me? I just finished getting ready for bed.” You tucked yourself under your blanket, basking in the warmth.

Seungcheol hummed. “Your meds?”

“Done.”

“With lots of water?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling from ear to ear. “Yes, Doctor Cheol.”

He chuckled from the other line. “Alright. Good girl.”

Your heart leaped. “What am I, a child?” He just laughed. You could hear faint music from his line. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing much. I’m at home on my laptop,” he replied and then chuckled. "Million Dollar Smile, huh? Who came up with that?" he added.

Your brows creased, confused. "A million what?"

"A Million Dollar Smile."

"I don't get it."

"That's your title. Apparently, your peers call you the Beauty with a Million-Dollar Smile."

"Me? They call me that?" 

"Oh, you didn't know?"

You shuddered, the hairs on your arms raising. "That's so creepy."

Seungcheol's laughter filled your ears. "I think they meant it as a compliment."

You shook your shoulders and head to get rid of the cringe feeling. "Well, they're creepy."

"You seriously didn't know? There are plenty of articles about you in the university forum. Most of them mentioned your title."

You laughed incredulously. "I don't hop on the forum and look up articles about me. That sounds so narcissis— wait are you reading about me? Right now?"

"I am," he replied nonchalantly. "They write about you a lot, you know. All good things. I didn't know you were an athlete. Tennis?"

"I'm not," you chuckled, rolling on the other side of your bed. "I only played for the sports meet because no one in my department wanted to."

“We should play sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes, albeit he couldn’t see it. “Do you even know how many plans you’ve made with me already?”

He chuckled. “Have they all piled up? We should probably do something about it soon.”

“There. Another plan.”

Seungcheol laughed from the other line and you couldn’t help smiling at the image of him in your head, laughing wholeheartedly. “Get well soon, y/n. Let’s catch up on everything we missed.”

“Alright.”

“I missed you.”

You froze, dumbfounded by his unexpected confession. For a minute, there was nothing but silence between the two of you, as you were carefully considering the correct approach to his statement.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I was…” he paused, sighing. “I was wrong. So wrong. I was clueless. I had no idea what I wanted. I ended up pushing you away. For that, I’m very sorry.”

“It’s okay, Cheol,” you told him softly. It’s not, obviously. But you didn’t want to dwell on it anymore. You only want to focus on the now and see where it takes you. Finally, Seungcheol was clear with his intentions. What else should stop you from doing the same?

There’s no reason to decline his affection, especially when you know you want it too. You wished for this day to come, you craved it, prayed for it, and hoped it would happen despite the impossibility of it. Now that it’s here, on a silver platter, willingly being served to you, why should you decline it? Your heart is fragile, it breaks so easily but it heals as quickly. The best thing about this heartbreak is that it was Seungcheol himself who was trying to mend the broken pieces back together.

You welcomed Monday with a bad headache. No, you're not sick anymore but rumors are going around about you and that was what’s making your head throb terribly. People at school had been talking about you dating an older guy, and allegedly breaking off his previous relationship. It was posted by The Gossiper, a notorious gossip monger in your university who operates on anonymity. You have no idea where or who tipped them but the boys at school who used to try every means to sweep you off your feet are now calling you a hoe in the online university forum, while some girls are now considering you an enemy for not being a "girl's girl". Of course, rumors are only rumors, and you don't give a damn about the people talking crap behind your back, but it was still a terrible situation to deal with on the first day of the week.

"By older guy, are they referring to Seungcheol-nim?" Haeyoon asked during lunch. You placed your chopsticks back on your tray and started massaging your temples. 

"Really, Haeyoon? Right in front of my special jajjangmyeon?" you groaned, pretending to be offended. "You couldn't wait till we get a taste before spoiling everything?"

Haeyoon pressed her hands together and bowed. "I'm so sorry, special jajjangmyeon."

You and your friends laughed as you started eating. Sua, however, wants to know more about the rumors.

"Seungcheol-nim? Is he the older guy from the Gossiper's post?" asked Sua, looking curious.

Dahee sniggered. "If y/n is seeing anyone, we'd be the first to know. Right, y/n?"

At that moment, Yoori appeared next to Dahee, placing her tray on the table as she shook her head. "Wrong. We'll find out first because we're flatmates."

"Ugh, what a show-off," Dahee sneered, nudging Yoori's arm as the latter sat next to her.

Sua tapped on the table to get your attention. "The anonymous post said they saw you with the older guy though. They also said they knew him and he broke up with his girlfriend because of you."

"Don't believe everything you see online, Sua," Dahee chided gently, giving Sua a stern gaze.

"So it's not true, then? The rumor?" Sua questioned so you shook your head in response.

"No," you replied curtly. If people you barely know are curious about the truthfulness of the rumors, of course, your friends would be too. Still, you don't see the need to explain to anyone why and how the gossip in the hallways is false. Saying it isn't true should be enough. Sure you can divulge details if you want to, but you won't because you are entitled to your privacy and so is Seungcheol. You don't want everything that went down between the two of you to become a topic for other people's mouths to feast on.

"Then what’s going on between you and Seungcheol-nim?" Sua pressed on, earning her a few annoyed looks from your other friends.

"None of your business, girl," said Yoori, placing a piece of sliced orange on Sua's tray. "Stop asking and just eat."

There are reasons why Sua seemed like she was being alienated from your friend group. First, you weren't friends with her in the first place. She just started following Dahee around and casually joined your circle. Second, you have a feeling Sua is spilling private details about you and your friends to other people. No one was able to prove it yet, but ever since she joined your circle, you've been hearing other people talk about things that only you and your friends were supposed to know. It might all be just an assumption and you could be wrong about her, but she's a writer for the school paper which also handles the gossip account in the university's online forum.

“Hey.” Yoori nudged you. “We’re going to a concert tonight, me and Seolhee. Would you like to come?”

You shook your head. “I am…” you trailed off, hesitating. “...going out tonight. I made plans. Have fun though.”

Yoori flashed a menacing smile, making you laugh and say, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She shrugged, still sporting the smile. “When was the last time you made plans with a guy?”

“How do you even know it’s a guy?”

“Roommates for three years, friends for five. I know you inside and out, y/n,” she teased and it made you giggle, shyly looking away and touching your blushing cheeks. Yoori cooed at you, “Don’t you think you forgave him too quickly?”

“Did I?” you asked, pondering on the question. Indeed, it was such a quick forgiveness. He didn’t even need to put in too much effort to win you back. But then again, you know what you want: him. Why would you prolong the process when you can just open your arms and welcome him wholeheartedly? It may be foolish, and there’s a chance that you may be making wrong decisions. But weirdly enough, you were willing to take the gamble and bet your whole heart on it.

Seungcheol’s smile was ear-to-ear when he saw you outside the CoffeeHouse. You couldn’t hide your delight either, waving at him as you walked to where he was waiting for you.

“How were your classes?” was the first thing he asked you and it made you roll your eyes and groan.

“Ugh, really? That’s what you want to talk about? I should have gone to the concert,” you retorted, chucking your phone into your bag.

“What concert?” he asked as he opened the car door for you. You got into the car and waited until he was in the driver’s seat before answering.

“It’s by a band we like. Seolhee and Yoori are going.” You pulled the seatbelt over your body and tried to lock it but your backpack on your lap is making it hard for you to reach the lock.

Seungcheol leaned over, surprising you with his sudden movement and how close he had gotten to you in a split second. He locked the seatbelt with ease, withdrawing to sit properly like he didn’t just give you a minor heart attack.

“Did you want to go? You should’ve told me. We could’ve just rescheduled,” he stated, eyes focused on the road the moment he turned his engine on.

You cleared your throat. “It would be fun, but I didn’t feel like it. Besides, we had plans.”

“Right,” he replied, gleaming. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s on your mind? What should we do tonight?”

You scoffed, eyeing him with furrowed brows. “Are you telling me you don’t have a real plan?”

Seungcheol chuckled nervously.

“Why did you ask me out if you didn’t know what we should do?”

“To be honest, I didn’t think you’d accept the invitation. So, right now, I’m just improvising.”

“Improvising?” you repeated, chuckling. “Doesn’t seem like you at all.”

“I know,” he gave up. “You’ll have to forgive me, this is kind of a new territory because I’ve only known spontaneity when I met you.”

Your jaw dropped but you closed it again before he could catch you. Then you glanced outside the car, your hands over your mouth out of sheer shock. You don’t know why he said it like it was an embarrassing thing to say because the effect on you was entirely different. You’re realizing right then that Choi Seungcheol can sweep you off your feet so easily without even trying too hard.

You exhaled and snickered at him. “Your rizz is quite something, Choi Seungcheol.”

“Rizz?” he questioned, briefly glancing at you.

You gawked at him and then remembered that he’s the technologically challenged lawyer who’s almost thirty. “It’s nothing. You won’t get it.”

Seungcheol shrugged. “I’m pretty smart if you explain it properly.”

“It’s slang,” you began but then hesitated. “You know what, don’t worry about it. I meant it as a compliment.”

He chuckled. “Well, thank you very much. Your rizz is quite something too.”

His reply made you laugh and from then on, you two have never stopped laughing in the car on your way to nowhere.

Your first date with Seungcheol went like that, driving around the city and eating takeout in the car. As the night grew later and the streets stretched longer, you noticed that you’d reached the outskirts of the city, so you rolled the window down, pushing your hand out to feel the cool air. Seungcheol noticed this and smiled.

“What time is your bedtime today?” he asked so you glanced at the time on the dashboard. 11:45 pm.

“It’s a little early, but we should probably head back,” you told him. You didn’t want to go home just yet, but you have class tomorrow and you were certain Seungcheol has to go to work early too.

“Alright,” he replied, slowing down as he prepared to turn back.

You spotted a cafe up ahead so you tapped on his arm. “Later, after we go to that cafe.”

And you did. You went inside the cafe, admired the warm ambiance, and took a few pictures to commemorate it. Seungcheol was reluctant, but you managed to convince him to pose for one picture only.

“Old people are spoilsports,” you complained jokingly, feigning disappointment as you checked how the photo came out. While you were looking down at your phone, you felt an arm around your shoulder, making you glance at it only to find Seungcheol raising his phone camera as he pulled you closer to him.

“Smile, y/n,” he lilted. You panicked at the proximity, but you managed to squeeze out a big grin for the photo. As quickly as it took to capture the photo, Seungcheol parted from you, smiling as he stared at his phone screen for a minute.

You turned away, touching your warm cheeks and hoping you were not blushing too much. Then you cleared your throat and side-eyed him. “I thought you didn’t know how to use a phone?” you quipped, hoping humor would hide your glee.

“I never said that,” he insisted. “And, hey, come on. It’s a selfie. Even babies know how to take one.”

You snickered, pleased to have riled him up even jokingly. He approached the counter with you behind him. After telling the barista his order, he turned to you to ask, “Spanish latte with oat milk?”

“Yeah,” you replied, nodding with a smile. He gave the barista your order too and since there were only a handful of customers, Seungcheol was told he could just wait by the counter for your orders. 

Seungcheol was all smiles when he approached your table with a tray. As he pushed your coffee towards you on the table, you eyed his iced coffee that was so dark you could barely see the ice in it.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked.

Seungcheol understood what you meant by the question. “I am but I like cold coffee.”

“I can see that,” you chuckled, blowing the steam from your hot mug. “But why?”

“I haven’t told you yet?” he wondered and you shrugged in response. “Hmmh, I thought I told you everything.”

“Not nearly,” you jeered. “You rarely shared anything about yourself.”

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I told you things I haven’t told other people.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but you haven’t told me the most basic things about you. You know, things people usually talk about when getting to know someone. Your favorite color or food. Your family, your workplace, and things like that. You never even told me you had a pet. And,” you paused, pointed at his coffee, and added, “why you like your coffee like that.”

He looked at his coffee and then back to you. “I didn’t realize that.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me anything. I was just under the impression that whenever you’re with me, you tend to detach yourself from your life outside our friendship. Like you’re just Cheol, not the Lawyer Choi Seungcheol from a very wealthy family and works in a very big law firm and has a pet he calls Kkuma.”

“I do, don’t I?” he gleamed, like he was only now realizing that fact. “I think you’re right.”

“About everything?”

“Yeah, about everything.”

You chuckled, passing it all off as a joke. But Seungcheol was serious, and so for the entire time that you sat in that cafe, he talked about himself and everything you needed to know about him.

Friday.

“Can’t we sue them for defamation? Maybe cyber-bullying or something like that?”

You walked in on Yoori and Seolhee scrolling through a laptop in the living room. As you watched their concerned expressions, you went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Seolhee spotted you then.

“There you are!” she sighed, looking like she just had the most stressful day of her life so far. “The Gossiper is at it again.”

“What is it this time?” you deadpanned. For the entire week, every single day, The Gossiper always had ‘something new’ to write about you. First, it was about your rumored beau. Second, your past relationships were brought up. And then they started doubting your good grades and good relationship with your professors, calling it unusual and suspicious after revealing that your parents were legacies—as if a good half of the student body aren’t legacies themselves. Just yesterday, they claimed that your mother’s cram school isn’t inclusive and accepts only the rich kids. At this point, nothing they write can surprise you anymore with its incredulousness.

“I can’t even bring myself to read it again,” Seolhee replied, pushing the laptop towards you when you sat with them.

What’s the truth about Miss Million-Dollar-Smile’s tutoring jobs?

According to the article, a close confidant of yours told them that your part-time tutoring gigs during your sophomore year were actually escort jobs, adding that your clients aren’t middle schoolers but their rich fathers. You were so appalled that your jaw hung open the entire time you were reading the article. Yoori had to prompt you because you were staring at the screen with such an expression.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Seolhee commented.

“Crazy? It’s not just crazy,” Yoori scoffed, exasperated. “They’ve gone too far! This Gossiper, whoever this is, they need jail time.”

People are now calling you two-faced, claiming you had been pretending to be a decent girl all this time. Some were saying you were hiding behind a righteous, goody-two-shoes persona. Not to mention the amount of people calling your slurs like a hoe, a social climber, homewrecker, the list just goes on.

“Why are they so obsessed with you all of a sudden? Honestly, where is this aggression coming from?” Yoori added. Truth be told, you don't care. You're about to graduate anyway. As long as they don’t do any real damage to you, you don’t care what they say.

“Let them be,” you told your friends, smiling meekly. “Who knows, maybe if we ignore them, they’ll leave me alone.”

“What about all these people commenting about you and calling you names?”

You shrugged. “Let them talk. I’ll see it as a form of charity. Their lives are boring and so unhappy that they’d rather talk shit about someone they barely know. At least I get to help make their days interesting.”

“You’re nuts,” Yoori exhaled. “Seriously, you’re so unbelievably optimistic. That’s not normal.”

You grinned at her. “You know what they say, there’s a silver lining in every difficult situation. You just need to find it.”

“And who said that exactly?” Seolhee asked so you turned to her and shrugged.

“Me.” You snickered. “I made it up based on a very common thought that’s been cited hundreds or thousands of times already by probably millions of people. My mind is so impressive.”

Your friends laughed and seeing their smiling faces eased your heart. To be completely honest, the backlash you were getting scared you. You tried your best to not care but little by little, it has started to get to you. Before walking down the halls, you first need to take a minute to think, calm your nerves, and condition your mind to ignore the murmurs and the looks you keep getting from people you barely even know. As much as you look forward to another day, a small part of you is afraid that there might be new gossip about you being discussed online. Even outside the campus, sometimes you are overcome by an eerie feeling that people are staring at you judgmentally. Of course, you are more confident than scared, but the little girl inside you who’s cowering in fear of the people talking about you is slowly growing to take up a larger space.

“Hi!” Seungcheol greeted into your ear, making you jolt in your seat at the cafe. Your reaction made him chuckle. But when he saw that you weren’t laughing, he cleared his throat and said, “Am I late?”

“No, I’m just early,” you replied, sighing quietly.

“I see. I came here as quickly as I could,” he told you as he took off his coat and placed it on the backrest of his chair.

You hummed. “Have you ordered?”

“I have, yes,” he beamed and you tried your best to smile back but couldn’t. It really couldn’t be helped that you were feeling down today. 

Mingyu came at that moment, the tray in his hand told you he was carrying Seungcheol’s order with him. He smiled at each of you and greeted you with a jovial, “Good evening!”

“Evening, Gyu,” you replied, flattening your lips together in a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Oh, wow, the vibe is so weird here,” he noted, shifting eyes from you to Seungcheol. “Did you guys fight?”

“Did you make my order right?” Seungcheol retorted but Mingyu ignored him as he placed the coffee and pastry on the table.

“What did the Landlord do?” he asked you. On a normal day, you would have had a witty response to that, and then you would bicker with Mingyu for a bit. But today as much as you would enjoy a regular battle of wits with this giant himbo, your energy to socialize is at an all-time low.

“I didn’t do anything,” Seungcheol insisted, but then he did a double take to look at you. “Or… did I?”

Mingyu chortled. “Crush him up, y/n. He might be bigger than you are, but you can pulverize him just fine with that snarky—”

“Just go away, man,” Seungcheol scolded, playfully hitting Mingyu’s abdomen with the back of his hand. “Go entertain your fans or something.”

“Aha!” Mingyu exclaimed, pointing a finger at Seungcheol. “You’re picking up a thing or two from y/n!”

You smirked and then rolled your eyes. “Yeah, go away, Gyu. Your fanmeet is starting.”

Mingyu was pouting when he left your table and Seungcheol snickered at him as he did. He always found it entertaining to watch you bicker, even calling it a real-time UFC without the physical fighting. You stared at Seungcheol, examining his features as if you hadn’t already memorized them by heart. Still, you always find something new to admire about him. Today, it was his hair which has grown a little longer than when you first met him. Your hand on the table twitched, overcome by an urge to reach forward and run your fingers through his head of soft-looking brown hair.

“What are you reading?” he questioned, motioning at the Kindle tablet in your hand.

“Nothing that would be interesting to you,” you said sheepishly, putting the device face-down on the table. You hadn’t meant for your response to be off-putting, but it came out that way and you kinda regretted it.

“How do you know that?” he asked so you shrugged unsurely. Then he added, “Anything you do is interesting to me, y/n,”

A smile crept up on your lips before you could even think of hiding it, and Seungcheol’s face lit up when he saw it. His smile gradually became bigger and there was even a faint tint of blushing on his cheek.

“God,” he muttered, looking down and covering his face with his hands. You scowled, wondering what was wrong with him. He was mumbling incoherently and you tried to listen but you didn’t catch a single word.

“What’s that?” you questioned, so he looked up at you looking utterly defeated.

“Nothing. You’re cute, that’s all.”

You scoffed loudly, so much so that you choked a little. You had to clear your throat but you declined when Seungcheol offered you water. “I’m fine. Stop flirting with me, Cheol.”

He just shrugged. “I beg your pardon. But what else should I be doing if not to flirt with you?”

“I don’t know. Just be normal. You know? Like you used to be?”

He still had a clueless look on his face. “I can’t.”

“Of course, you can.” 

“I know, but I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? That’s dumb.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then. Now that I am, I can’t.”

“Why you—” You stopped, looked away, and laughed derisively. When you looked back at him, he had a proud look on his face. “Since when were you so smooth?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grinned, sipping from his straw as he looked away from you.

You just chuckled, shaking your head as you took your fork and started eating your cake. “This is so good.”

“Is it? Can I have a bite?”

You hummed as you nodded, and then pushed the plate towards him. He grabbed his fork and took a slice. And so you sat there, eating pastry, drinking coffee, and just letting the time pass by without caring about it.

On the weekend he took you to play tennis in a posh neighborhood, where you met some of his friends. He had brought it up the last time you hung out and asked if you would like to join them.

“You might find them a little boring, but they’re nice people,” he had told you at the time.

Since you had no plans and you were also curious about his friends, you agreed. You realized as soon as you were introduced that Seungcheol hung out with people who were just like him. Not only did they seem more mature than you were, but they were also evidently wealthy. Nevertheless, they were nice to you and acknowledged you with respect. And contrary to what Seungcheol said, they were fun to hang out with and you were convinced Seungcheol was the Designated Serious Friend™ in their trio dynamic.

Through a round of Flip-a-Coin, you got paired up with Seungcheol’s friend for the game who made you promise not to show them any mercy. In the end, you massacred your opponents and won free coffee and food at the clubhouse restaurant.

“I’m guessing you’re over that other girl?” your game partner asked Seungcheol over coffee after the game.

The other one protested. “Hey, Hyunwoo! Why would you ruin the mood like that?”

“It’s an important conversation to have!” Hyunwoo contested. “He was so smitten by her that he blamed himself for the breakup. In his eyes, that girl can do no wrong.”

“Wait, you’re right. He downright worshipped her. He even said he would wait until she’s ready to come back to him,” Suhwan added, shaking his head. “Man, those were troubled times.”

“Yeah, troubled times,” Hyunwoo affirmed.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you guys,” Seungcheol told his friends. To you, he said, “Ignore them.”

You nodded with a smile, taking a sip of your juice to look away. Honestly, you were curious about Seungcheol and Mina—about how it ended, and the reason why. But you were too shy to ask and while you were hoping his friends would let it slip, they only made comments here and there and never said anything explanatory. All that you got was that the breakup was bad, and they disliked her from then on.

Hyunwoo nudged your shoulder, and seeing your proximity made Seungcheol tut at him. Hyunwoo just laughed at him before asking you, “Has he told you about Mina yet?”

You shrugged. “Only that he was trying to get back with her.”

The chorus of a baffled “What?!” from Hyunwoo and Suhwan was loud and comical. 

“You’re still trying to get back with her?” Suhwan asked Seungcheol who looked perplexed.

“I’m not!” Seungcheol insisted, giving you a bewildered glance as his friends bombarded him with questions. You snickered quietly, watching him defend himself from your seat. When their overlapping questions became too rowdy, Seungcheol stood up in an attempt to silence them.

“I like y/n so much!” he shouted, silencing his friends and grabbing the attention of everyone else in the restaurant. He gawked at your dumbstruck expression, and then looked around at the people in the hall. Embarrassed, he sat back on his chair, playfully hitting his two friends before sinking low in his seat.

“What was that?” Hyunwoo teased.

Seungcheol mumbled in his seat, looking away to avoid your gaze and everyone else’s. He quietly sipped on his coffee while the guys continued talking to you. You were shocked at Seungcheol’s admission, but you had no time to process it because his friends are full of energy and are very talkative. So the only thing you can do was watch Seungcheol wallow in embarrassment, stealing glances at you and looking away each time you caught his eyes.

After coffee, you trekked back to the court to collect your belongings and head home. On your way there, both Suhwan and Hyunwoo were on either side of you, while Seungcheol was towing behind like a loner.

“So what I’m saying is, whatever happened between them is not our dirty laundry to air out,” Hyunwoo stated. “But, if it’s true what Seungcheol said that he’s serious about you, you can trust him.”

“Yeah, you can,” Suhwan affirmed. “He has changed a lot these days, you know. He’s less sullen and more talkative than before. He also smiles a whole lot more. I’m sure you have something to do with that.

“He’s funny now too,” Hyunwoo sniggered. “That man can’t crack a joke. But now, he has become the wittiest out of the three of us.”

“I am flattered,” you replied shyly. “But I take no credit. He’s funny in his own little way.”

Suhwan laughed a little too loudly as if he heard the most ridiculous thing ever. Meanwhile, Hyunwoo was shaking his head in disappointment.

“Damn, you must really like him,” Hyunwoo sighed. “The only way you’d willingly say something like that is if you like him.”

“I’d say, she’s head over heels in love with him.”

Hyunwoo nodded. “Yeah, that’s the perfect definition.”

You chuckled, your cheeks hot and red. “I’m serious. I mean, obviously, his humor is not his defining trait, but he’s not that bad.”

“Ah,” Suhwan deadpanned, then looked at Hyunwoo. “Head-over-heels.”

“Head-over-heels,” Hyunwoo affirmed and it made you holler with laughter.

“Hey, what are you guys telling her this time?” Seungcheol called from behind you, catching up to shove Suhwan and take his place next to you.

Seungcheol glared at his friends who were grinning as they enjoyed getting a rise out of him. While Hyunwoo and Suhwan lagged behind to give you privacy, you nudged Seungcheol’s arm, making him look at you.

“Ignore them,” he told you.

You just smiled as you linked his arm with yours. Seungcheol saw that and it made him smile. And so you walked holding his arm, while he held your hand in place with his big palm. For the rest of the day, the massive grin on Seungcheol’s lips never left his face.

On Monday afternoon, you sat in a burger joint with your friends for lunch, talking about the upcoming school event and the things that would take place on that day. It was quiet and peaceful until Yoori suddenly stood up and slammed her hands on the table, startling all of you. 

"That backstabbing tramp!" she fumed.

You blinked a few times, wondering what was up. Your friends must be wondering the same thing too but you all remained quiet, waiting for her to explain what's going on. She glanced at you and then pushed her laptop towards you. Without asking, you and your friends squeezed together to look at whatever Yoori was trying to show you on the laptop. The first thing you saw was the image of you stepping into a car that you recognized right away. It was the day you went to the bridge with Seungcheol. Shocked to find out you were photographed, you held the edges of the laptop to read the gossip.

Dahee started reading it aloud. "CAUGHT IN THE ACT! The university's sweetheart on a rendezvous! Looks like y/n's older man is not only older but also loaded. Thanks to an anonymous tipper, we managed to take the mask off of this mysterious older man. Turns out he's an alumnus who graduated from Law School at our university: Choi Seungcheol."

"It's Sua," Yoori declared, pointing at the laptop while gritting her teeth. "I swear to god that girl— gosh, I'm so annoyed right now."

"We don't know for sure if it was her," you sighed. Of course, you're thinking it was Sua. As far as you know, no one else in your friend group would blab about Seungcheol. But now that you're staring at Seungcheol's face in the article, you realize you've been out and about with him these past few months. Anyone could have seen you. Heck, that day when you got into his car, someone from school must have seen you too. You can't single out Sua anymore.

"It was her! I just know!" Yoori insisted. "The picture doesn't even show Seungcheo-nim at all so I'm sure whoever took this picture didn’t know him. Unless one of you went telling other people about Seungcheol-nim, the anonymous tipper is Sua! She told the Gossiper about him!"

You heaved a sigh and stood up, grabbing your belongings and then stuffing them in your bag. "Let's just leave it. There's no point in fighting any of that. The Gossiper can say anything about me to the world for all I care."

"But y/n. She's gone too far. Last time it was about your family. Just the other day there was one about your tutoring job! Now this?" Haeyoon ranted.

You gave them a reassuring smile. "It's fine, girls. We know none of it was true. As long as you believe my words over theirs, I'll be fine."

"I hate you," Yoori sneered. "You're too kind." No, you’re not, but you just had to be for the sake of your peace.

You tried your best to ignore the articles online as you were busy preparing for the school event. As a senior, you were tasked with an important role in your department’s fundraising booth. Food is where there is money, so you decided to set up a pastry booth. All planning and facilitating were done by you and a group of students from your department while the rest were responsible for the food production. Aside from that, you had to play for your department in the games as well. This time, it wasn’t tennis, but a game of scavenger hunt against other departments.

You got busy for the next few days, so much so that you kept declining Seungcheol’s invitation to go out. He was understanding and kept cheering you on the whole time. He made sure you were getting some rest, eating well, and taking care of your health despite being busy. He did so by texting you reminders and sending food to you from time to time. It was endearing and it surely helped make days bearable for you.

“Are you ready?” your department head asked you and your teammate for the scavenger hunt.

“Yes, sir!” you replied in unison, both excited and nervous about the games.

The game began after a quick briefing on the rules and mechanics. The game was easy, you just needed to follow the map and search the designated area for treasure chests. The first group to collect a certain amount of treasure within the given time limit wins the hunt. Half an hour in and your teammate already found one for your team. You were feeling fired up.

“I’m confused about this part of the map,” you told your teammate halfway through the four-hour hunt. “There are two pathways here but the map only showed one.”

“You’re right. I was just about to tell you about that too.”

You were in the Culinary building, as it was the venue of the hunt. At this point, you only need two more treasures to win the game but you’re on a roadblock because of the map.

“Should we split up?” you suggested.

“Can we do that?”

You shrugged. “There wasn’t anything in the rules against splitting up.”

“I know, but what if something happens to either of us?” she asked, looking sheepish.

“Like anything would happen to us in the school,” you chuckled at her, but you knew she had a point. “How about this, we split up for a bit, figure out the map issue, and convene as soon as we can. I’ll call you after twenty minutes for updates.”

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

You high-fived before you each picked a path to follow. You found yourself walking to the deserted kitchen, which you assumed was the place where Culinary students hold practicals or something like that. Since there was no hint that the area was part of the hunt, you continued walking. As you did, you heard a loud thud coming from the pantry. That caught your attention but you chose to ignore it and continued following your map. But then someone called your name from the pantry, making you glance back in curiosity.

“Who’s there?” you called out, slowly making your way to the area. You reached the pantry room and looked around for any signs of a person but there was no one there. So you walked further into the room, and as you did, the air grew colder and colder until you found that the door to the cold storage was left open. Exhaling sharply in your attempt to quell the cold, you concluded that someone had left it open by accident.

“I know you’re here,” you called out, looking around as you reached for the cold storage door. “Come out or I’ll leave.”

There was no response from anywhere, so you just sighed and shook your head in disappointment. This is no time to be scared of ghosts or whatever. It’s broad daylight and whoever called you there is a living person. What for? Probably to pull a prank or something. Ridiculous.

That was your line of thought before a sudden sharp spike of pain on the back of your head silenced your brain. It slowly faded into a ringing ache as you fell on the cold floor with a thud, your eyesight blurring into nothingness before you completely blacked out.

Next thing you know, you were on a stretcher, being hauled into an ambulance. You’re lightheaded and weak, and you can barely make out the figures of people around the stretcher, calling your name in fading voices. Your entire body is numb, so much so that you feel like your limbs are gone. Terrified, you let out a slow exhale before falling back into a stupor.

When you woke up, you were greeted by Seungcheol’s worry-stricken face, talking to someone from across the room. He was holding your hand, and only when you moved it did he notice that you’d woken up. He leaped from his seat, staring at you with widened eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked repeatedly, and you could only respond with a weak smile. Your other friends surrounded you, the doctor was called, and your parents arrived in the room looking extremely worried.

By the time everyone calmed down, you were sitting on the bed, feeling warm and cozy in your clothes. Your mother was peeling an orange for you while continuously nagging. Yoori and Seolhee are across the room on a couch, quietly chatting with Seungcheol. You watched as your father told him something that made him stand up and follow him to the door.

“Where are they going?” you asked Yoori and Seolhee.

Seolhee glanced at you. “Oh, they’re heading out to get your medical certificate.”

“What for?” you asked.

“Your father is adamant that someone must be held accountable for what happened to you,” your mother stated, exhaling sharply. “Especially since it’s an assault.”

And then you remembered. Someone had hit your head that day. Someone deliberately locked you in there and left you to die. This wasn’t an accident. Someone out there has it out on you and was prepared to commit a crime just to hurt you.

“What have they got so far?” you asked and your mother tutted sternly.

“Don’t worry yourself about it, dear,” she chided softly, tucking away stray strands of hair on your face. “For now, you should focus on getting well.”

You saw your friends nodding in agreement. Yoori said, “I’m sure they will figure it out. Your well-being is more important.”

“And that man,” your mom trailed off, placing the orange in your hand before giving you a teasing smile. “Seungcheol, was it? Is he your boyfriend?”

“Mom! No!” you hollered, hotness building up on your face. “He’s not.”

“Why not?” she exclaimed, flabbergasted. “He’s a good guy!”

“That’s what you said about Yeol too.”

She shook her head. “No, I was wrong about Yeol. This time, I’m sure of it. He cares for you.”

You looked down, feeling shy to admit something. “I know he does.”

“You know? Good. So, why aren’t you dating him?”

Yoori cut in at that moment. “Wait, hold up. You guys aren’t dating yet?”

You shook your head at her. “You know we’re not, Yoori.”

“That’s what I thought too but he didn’t act like it.”

You wanted to ask what she meant, giddy to hear anything about Seungcheol that you had missed in the last two days that you were passed out in bed. But before you could ask, your father came back with Seungcheol.

“We’re going up to the station,” your father told you as he approached you to give you a kiss on your forehead. “We’ll talk to the police and sort things out. They might drop by later to talk to you. You don’t have to worry about anything, alright? Just tell them what you remember.”

“Okay, Dad,” you beamed, nodding. You turned to Seungcheol who approached your bed as soon as your mom and dad gave him the space. “Thanks, Cheol. For being here and for helping my dad.”

He smiled sweetly, reaching for your hand and squeezing it affectionately. “Anything for you, y/n.” He placed a hand on your head, patting your hair down gently. “Get some rest. I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Alright, good girl,” he chimed.

He then left with your father, and your mother went to send them out. Yoori and Seolhee were quick to come near you and squealed as quietly as they could.

“What was that? Did he just call you a good girl?”

Yoori teased. “My god, y/n. I didn’t know you had that kind of kink.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” you scolded, scandalized, but then you covered your face, too shy to admit that you did like it when he said what he said.

Both your father and Seungcheol refused to tell you anything new about the case, but they assured you that they’re taking immediate action about it. You went back to school after a week, despite your mother’s disagreement. You’re alright now and you didn’t want to waste time at home when you should be catching up on your lessons.

People congratulated you for getting out of the hospital, while others expressed their sorrow about the accident. You were the subject of their pity for a whole day, but they eventually went back to talking about your romantic exploits the very next day, especially after The Gossiper posted another ‘exclusive’ about you. At this point, you truly, genuinely don’t care anymore. You’ve gone through a near-death experience, nothing the Gossiper can say will scare you anymore.

“Miss y/n?” the professor called as soon as he entered the classroom. You raised your hand in response. “You’re being called up at the dean’s office.”

The office was five floors up and the walk there took about five minutes, and your heart hasn’t stopped beating wildly ever since you left your classroom. When you pushed the door open, you found your friends there–Yoori, Dahee, and Haeyoon. All three of them were present in the scavenger hunt during the incident; Yoori as a facilitator, Dahee and Haeyoon as fellow participants. Yoori tapped the space next to her, inviting you to sit there. 

“What’s going on? Is this about the incident?”

Yoori shrugged. “That’s what we thought too. Seungcheol-nim is inside with the dean.”

“Seungcheol is?” you repeated, glancing at the inner office. As you did, its door opened and the dean came out with Seungcheol towing behind her.

He spotted you and flashed a small smile. He looked rather professional today, in a complete set of suits with a briefcase and an envelope in his hand that the dean just handed back to him.

“All four of you are here. We just need to wait for Miss Min Sua.”

Alas, you knew this would happen. The school has to do something about the incident, and this must be the day it all unfolds. Although you were impatiently waiting for this, you were clueless as to how things would pan out.

The office door opened, revealing Sua. Her face contorted to annoyance when she saw who else was inside. It seemed like she was thinking about turning back but the dean told her to come in and sit down.

“This here is Lawyer Choi Seungcheol. He’s here as Miss y/n’s legal counsel,” the dean introduced and you all made a slight bow as a greeting. “It has come to my attention that the recent incident in the Culinary building wasn’t an accident but a premeditated attack on y/n by Min Sua.”

“I beg your pardon?” Sua interjected.

“And it is not a baseless accusation as Lawyer Choi here has provided ample evidence to prove the matter,” the dean continued, placing a stack of photographs on the table. Your friends picked them up to check and you saw that those were screenshots of CCTV footage showing how Sua deliberately locked you in the cold storage.

“That’s bullshit!” Sua bellowed.

Calmly, the dean said, “Correction, that is evidence and you will do well to remember that profanity is not to be spoken in my office, Miss Min Sua.”

Sua sat back, annoyed. She caught your gaze and glared at you.

“Given the gravity of the situation, they have decided to push through with the investigation and you will be taken in for questioning,” the Dean continued and Sua looked horrified. “We would like to avoid a scene, so some school staff with escort you to the gate where the police will be waiting for you. You will go away quietly, without causing a ruckus.”

You clenched your fists, steadying your breathing as you listened some more.

“And I, as the dean, demand that you apologize to Miss Y/n before you leave.”

Sua scoffed arrogantly. “Y/N can go kill herself and drop dead.”

“Min Sua!” Yoori scolded but the dean showed her palm to tell everyone to be quiet.

“Miss Min, this is a serious offense,” the dean said sternly. “Your actions were rash and dangerous. You assaulted a student and left her to die. It’s attempted murder. Whatever was y/n’s fault, if she had one, that is not enough justification to attempt murder.”

“I wasn’t gonna murder her,” she clapped back. “It was just to teach her a lesson. You see, she’s fine and healthy. And she’s very alive… unfortunately.”

“Min Sua, you sick bitch!” Haeyoon blurted, standing up to attack Sua but you and Yoori held her back. “You sociopathic bitch! How dare you?!”

“Everybody calm down! Let’s all calm down for a second,” the dean declared, knocking on the wooden table with her knuckles.

“Miss Min, I’m afraid we’ll have to sort this out in a criminal court. We tried to be civil and give you a chance to apologize with sincerity. Since you’ve shown no remorse for your actions, the police will be here in a minute.”

“I don’t think that necessary,” you told Seungcheol but your voice was drowned by Sua maniacal laughter.

“You can’t send me to jail. Who do you think you are? He can’t do that. Right, Dahee? Haeyoon?” Dahee just looked away while Haeyoon glared at Sua. “Fucking traitors.”

“What was that?” Haeyoon exclaimed, walking up to Sua but Dahee was quick to stop her. “What did you just call us?”

“Traitors!” Sua screamed at the top of her lungs, veins almost popping from her forehead and neck. “You call yourselves my friends but you’re siding with her? You’re both traitors! You all are!”

“You’re the traitor, Sua!” Haeyoon hollered back, struggling to get out of Dahee’s grasp as she tried to approach Sua. “You’re the snake! You kept hanging out with us, you ate at our table, and we treated you like a friend but you kept backstabbing us! And you know what? We all thought that was the worst you could do, but no. You tried to murder someone! You’re a sick sociopath with zero remorse and accountability!”

Sua shrieked. “You never made me feel welcome! You didn’t care about me and only focused on yourselves! Is that how you treat a friend?”

“That’s not a good reason to take someone’s life, Sua! What you did was sick. And if you don’t realize that you’re in the wrong, then you seriously need help,” Yoori argued.

“Guys, that’s enough,” you tried to mediate, hoping to end the argument and continue talking in a civil manner. “We didn’t come here to fight.”

“Oh please, y/n,” Sua spat, giving you a disgusted look. “Always the rational one. Always the smartest. Always the bigger person in the room. Don’t you get tired of keeping that facade?”

“I don’t want to argue with you, Sua.”

“Fine, Miss Beautiful and Kind. You shouldn’t bother yourself with someone like me, pathetic, pitiful, a sick criminal,” she scorned, laughing derisively. It was also at that moment that three police officers entered the room. Sua scoffed at them. “You want to send me to jail? That’s fine. I’ll beat it out of there and come back to kill every single one of you. When that happens, I’ll make sure to do it right!”

She tried to push the officers away but she was restrained with ease and put in handcuffs. She kept cursing everyone—you, the dean, your friends, Seungcheol, and even the police. Slurs were spoken and her manic laughter filled the room.

“Min Sua,” you called sternly, making Sua stop squirming.

She had a smug smile on her face. “Are you happy now? Everyone hates me. My friends have turned their backs on me. I’m ruined and I’m going to jail. Everyone’s on your side. Are you satisfied?”

“The only one who finds happiness in other people’s misery is you, Min Sua.”

“You’re right. I’d love to see you miserable. But why won’t you fucking weep? You won’t even fucking die!” The frigid, cold-blooded smile Sua flashed sent chills down your spine. 

For a second, your heart faltered with fear but it was soon replaced with pity. Pity for Sua and the life she was willing to throw away just because she was overcome by envy and spite. She needed help and you hoped you could give it to her, but all you can afford is to hope she finds that help somewhere. You don’t want anything to do with her anymore. You want to completely cut ties with her and forget this ugly phase in your life. You want it over and you want it to be over now.

“From the bottom of my heart, I wish you all the best, Min Sua,” you told her. She just scoffed as she was being taken away by the police, her laughter echoing down the halls. 

You watched her leave with her shoulder rocking as she laughed. Her manic laughter will surely haunt you for the next few days. You will surely be wary of everyone around you, suspicious that someone might harm you or that one of them is Sua getting ready to attack you. Try as you might to appear calm and collected, not too deep inside, you are scared–terrified to the bone. You are shaken and nervous. Will this event let you sleep? You’re not so sure. It has given you a few sleepless nights already. It might get worse now that you’ve found out that the person responsible for your near-death is not even slightly remorseful. 

The deep, but soothing voice of Choi Seungcheol as he called your name pulled you out of your musings, quieting your brain and calming your heart. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently as if to comfort you. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you confessed, but you gave him a smile. “But I’ll be fine.”

He held your hand, massaged it in his hand, and gave you a comforting smile. “I got you.”

“Thank you,” you beamed. Behind him, the office door opened and your friends came out. You took your hand from Seungcheol’s hold and approached your friends with an embrace. For a while, you stayed in their arms, finding solace in their warmth. “Thanks, guys.”

“Everything’s gonna be fine, love,” Yoori assured you.

“I know. Thank you.”

The last few days were crazy. While the school and Seungcheol tried their best not to cause a stir, Sua was the one who made a spectacle of herself; shouting down the halls as she was being taken away and laughing like she was unhinged. For days, it was the talk of the school, with most of them saying she was a psychopath and would probably be sent to an asylum instead of jail.

Two days later, you were called to court for her arraignment, which didn’t even take long because Sua pleaded guilty–despite the discouragement of her lawyer. She also admitted to spreading rumors and gossip about you and confessed that she’s running the gossip blog in the school portal. Everything she said, you already knew, but it still shocked you to hear it directly from her.

Seungcheol told you there would be no need for you to attend any trial because the judge accepted her plea and offered her a deal. You were both saddened and relieved by that news. Saddened because Sua was still a part of your life, and at one point you were genuinely friends with her. Relieved because you never had to deal with it again, or see her in person anymore.

After that, the next several days were an ecstatic blur. Your grades were good. Your friends are great, And your relationship with Seungcheol is progressing steadily. You went out on dates, tried new and old things together, and got to know each other very well. He introduced you to his parents too, this time, as someone he was trying to date. It was also worth noting that he had been spending time with your father. Whatever it is that they bond about, you honestly have no idea but you’re happy that they get along.

You could swear you’re already dating, but no words have been spoken yet to confirm this. And during the routine dinner date that you do once a week, you were so in awe of his entire being that you suddenly thought to ask him the question.

“When will you ask me to be your girlfriend?” you asked and it made him choke on his food. You watch him cough for a while, rubbing his chest as soon as he can breathe properly. With a smile, you pushed the glass of water towards him so he could drink.

“Thanks,” he mumbled before taking a long sip.

“So?” you inquired after he had put the glass back down. “Whennnn?”

“This is not the place or situation that I envisioned in my head whenever I think about asking you to be my girlfriend,” he confessed, clearing his throat out of shyness. “Can I ask you today, though?” he asked with uncertainty in his tone but you still nodded enthusiastically. Seungcheol chuckled fondly, reaching for your face to squeeze your cheek. “You’re so adorable.”

“I knooow! Ask me now!”

Seungcheol scrunched his nose. “I don’t think I should. It’s not that I don’t want to, but it wouldn’t be special if I didn’t do it properly. You know, with proper preparation, a proper setup, and whatnot.”

“Does it matter? We like each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“And we’re pretty much dating already. Just ask me so we could make it official,” you suggested and again, Seungcheol laughed at your cute eagerness. “If you don’t ask me, I’ll ask you.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll ask you,” he blurted, giving up. You smiled widely, giving him your hands when he reached for them on the table. You straightened up in your seat, waiting for him to say the words. With a smile, Seungcheol said, “Let’s date officially, y/n.”

You scowled. “Are you serious? That sounds so unromantic.”

He laughed heartily. “What do you mean? How?”

“Will you be my girlfriend, y/n? Just like that,” you coached, Seungcheol shook his head. “Ah, come on! Just do it!”

“Okay. Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?”

You smiled, contented. Seungcheol smiled back and for a while, you stayed smiling at each other, the happiness and love in your eyes were so evident. One would look at you and envy how much you adored each other. 

“I’ll think about it,” you said briskly, retracting your hand swiftly and taking a swig of your beer.

Seungcheol just exhaled and shook his head, a fond smile still on his lips. You then held his hand just as he was about to pick up his glass. 

He gawked at you and you told him, “Okay. I will be your girlfriend.”

He couldn’t help laughing, eyes gleaming as he grinned. He squeezed your hand and kissed the back of it. “Y/n, you have no idea how much I adore you.”

After dinner, you went down the beach and sat next to him on the sand, leaning your body on his chest while his arm was over your shoulder. His thumb is rubbing your shoulder, occasionally squeezing it as he talks.

“You know, I have thought of at least a dozen scenarios in my head about the day we’d finally start dating,” he continued. “This was not how I imagined it would play out.”

You giggled, nuzzling closer to him. His body is warm, combatting the cool wind that’s blowing against your skin. “Please don’t be cheesy and say you think about me all the time.”

“As a matter of fact, I do think about you all the time,” he confessed, making you laugh heartily.

“No, you don’t,” you insisted and Seungcheol laughed, making his body vibrate against your ear.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I do think about you 80 percent of the time.”

You hummed, contented. The sound of the sea harmonized with the sound of his beating heart. It feels like you could just stay here forever and that would be enough for you. The road to this wasn’t a smooth one, but when you finally arrived, it was most fulfilling and beautiful. Your heart is at ease; happy, content, and over the moon.

“So,” he prompted after a few minutes of silence. “Do you wanna go back to the car and kiss?”

You pulled away from him, throwing your head back as you laughed. Seungcheol watched you with fondness in his eyes, enamored and totally taken by you.

“You can’t be naughty on your first day of being in a relationship.”

Seungcheol shrugged. “It’s just a kiss.”

You scoffed and mocked him. “Just a kiss.”

“I swear,” he insisted. “But we can make out too. You decide.”

You playfully hit his chest. Then you scoot closer to him and leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek. And then on his forehead, his nose, the corner of his lips, and then the other corner. You showered his face with chaste little kisses, and he seemed to enjoy it until he realized you were purposely avoiding his lips despite him offering it each time. He eventually dodged your kisses and tutted, and you sniggered at his annoyed expression. He cupped your cheeks, pulling you so he could kiss your lips, ever so gently, like the gentleman that he is.

When he pulled away, he stared at you and exhaled contently. “You’re everything I want, y/n. Everything, and more.”

You smiled back, loving how his eyes were gleaming and beautiful. “Took you long enough to realize that.”

Seungcheol laughed, forever amused by your wit and adorable tendency to ruin a heartfelt moment with banter. Maybe, that’s what made him fall for you in the first place.

“My god, I could kiss you forever,” he blurted.

“Well. don’t be shy now,” you quipped so he kissed you again.

Dating Seungcheol turned out to be more adorable than surreal. He was adorable, often stumbling on his words and feeling shy around you. It was ridiculous, considering he never acted this way before, and also endearing since you knew he liked you so much that he kept making a fool of himself. An adorable fool, if you do say so yourself.

“Are you sure you want to come over?” he would ask whenever you made plans to sleep together in his flat. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Cheol, I was there last night,” you would remind him.

“I know, but still? What if you change your mind?”

And you would assure him. “Then you’ll send me home if I did. Although, I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

He often acted all flustered and shy, but when you’re alone with him, he gets so comfortable that he forgets personal space. He would be all over you, wrapping his arms around you while you make food in the kitchen or something. When you’re watching TV, he’d have you lay on his lap, playing with your hair throughout the movie. Even when he’s working on his laptop and you’re on your phone, he’d be beside you, your shoulders pressed together or your back leaning on his chest while he locks you in one arm. And your favorite thing to do with him was to read. He had a huge window balcony in his apartment and when you started dating, you turned it into a reading nook. There, you would read for hours, quietly basking in the sun while Seungcheol sat with his back on the wall and you’re prostrated on the balcony floor with your Kindle. 

You can’t even begin to talk about the intimacy that you share under the sheets. Long story short, he was intense—the good kind of intense, but still intense. Yoori must be right after all.

“That reminds me,” Seungcheol said over dinner with your friends where the case with Sua was discussed. A few months have passed since then and today, you were told that she had been convicted. “I looked up The Gossiper.”

You looked up at him, curious. “You did?”

“Yes and it’s an awful page,” he replied, shaking his head. “The school must not care about ethical journalism.”

You chuckled. “It’s not a big deal anymore. They’ve stopped posting since Sua left.”

“The articles stopped, but people still talk about you, you know,” Seolhee sneered.

“I know,” you snorted. “They’ll get tired of it.”

Yoori turned to Seungcheol. “They keep saying she’s got a sugar daddy.”

“Funny thing is,” Haeyoon chuckled. “The sugar daddy is you, Seungcheol-nim.”

The table laughed at that and so the night went on with more laughter, good food, and good conversations.

You and Seungcheol stumbled into his apartment, both drunk and giggling when he bumped his forehead against yours as he tried to kiss you. He groaned for a minute, rubbing his forehead and yours before swooping in for another kiss. You inhaled his scent, along with the fiery hotness engulfing your whole being. His arms were strong and muscular around your body, and his lips were urgent against yours; sucking, nipping, smooching.

“Let’s take this inside, shall we?” he asked, although you knew it was a statement and not a question.

With a swift movement, Seungcheol lifted you off your feet, his lips finding the supple skin of your neck. The moan you let out was ecstatic and he kept going until he had brought you across the room, then placed you on the long couch.

“I thought you wanted the bed?” you asked, grinning as you helped him strip off his coat.

“I don’t think I can wait,” he breathed before leaning to ravage your neck once again. Your head automatically tilted back, your lips parting, as you closed your eyes in ecstasy. 

“Cheol,” you whispered.

Seungcheol stopped to take off his shirt and then yours when you lifted your hands up. He marveled at your beauty, taking in your shape, your curves, your skin, your moles, everything. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“Take me, Cheol,” you begged.

You didn’t need to tell him twice because that’s exactly what he planned on doing.

“It’s her.”

“Who?”

“Her. Over there. Y/n from Arts and Sciences.”

“Oh! The one with the sugar daddy?”

“Shh, she’s passing this way.”

Haeyoon glared at the gossiping girls as you passed them, while you continued walking without paying them any attention.

“These people think you’re deaf,” Haeyoon spat, annoyed.

“I thought we agreed to leave them alone?” Dahee reminded and Haeyoon groaned.

“I can’t stand them.”

You beamed at your friend as you snaked your hands around her arms and leaned on her shoulder while you walked. “Your aggression towards my haters is making me feel loved and special.”

Haeyoon rolled her eyes. “What do I do to convert your optimism into passive-aggressive rage towards those gossiping skanks?”

You ignored her questions, giving her your sweetest smile instead. Haeyoon was laughing on your other side. 

“Seriously, if I was in your situation, I would be in jail by now,” Haeyoon added.

You released her from your embrace and shrugged. “You can consider yourself lucky. Jail doesn’t look good you, love.”

“Speaking of love,” Dahee interjected as you neared the steps of the main university building. “Mr. Lover Boy decided to show up today.”

You followed the direction of her gaze and your mouth hung open at the sight before you. Waiting below the steps was Seungcheol, looking handsome and chic as he leaned against his equally chic car. He’s looking down at his phone, typing away while several students take notice of his stylish appearance. There are murmurs around, all of them sounding impressed and curious.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket so you fished it out to see Seungcheol’s name on your screen, calling. Instead of answering, you locked your screen and walked up to him. The sounds of amazement from onlookers as they watched you approach your boyfriend gave you pride.

“Isn’t that y/n?”

“It is. OMG, the rumors must be true that his boyfriend is loaded.”

“Doesn’t he look too young to be a sugar daddy though?”

“Sugar daddy or not, that guy is hot!”

Seungcheol’s face lit up as soon as he saw you. “Hi, baby,” he greeted. “I was just calling you.”

“I know,” you beamed. Seungcheol tucked his phone away before leaning to kiss your cheek. His arms around your waist were for everybody to see.

“Shall we?” he asked, opening the car door for you.

“Thanks.”

As if to further stoke the fire, Seungcheol didn’t drive away as soon as he got into the car. Instead, he gently pulled you by the nape and gave you a sweet kiss on the lips. In the corner of your eye, you can see people swooning outside. You smiled into the kiss.

“I must say, your showmanship is top-tier,” you commented and it made him chuckle.

“I did good, didn’t I?”

“You did amazing, babe,” you replied, caressing his cheek and then giving him a quick kiss.

“Let’s go. The wakepark will close soon!”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax. It’s 10 am.”

Seungcheol shook his head, his face bright with excitement. “The earlier we get there, the more time we’ll have to enjoy it.”

You laughed heartily, adoring your giddy boyfriend even more than you already do.

[fin]

[hoshingi]

team “i don’t know who park bo gum is, but i love him and cherish him” 💗 + their additional origin story

[ducktracy]

i am delighted to report that Shin-chan Movie 15, in which a bomb gets attached to the family dog’s ass and can only be detonated by singing, is maybe the most emotional Shin-chan movie out of the 14 or so i’ve seen. from small children dancing in Broadway style kick lines to Shin’s parents thinking he died in a brutal, fiery explosion and the moment played with utter heart wrenching sincerity, i officially decree this a Good Movie

[cxffecoupx]

masterlist. ✧ :-

(read: an excuse for me to use this mingyu pic)

OT13

seventeen and their love languages: csc, yjh, hjs, mjh, realizing they're in love with you hyper/calm dynamics when you get scared when you get drunk what 2 am with them looks like

choi seungcheol

love languages: choi seungcheol [11:18 pm] cheol as a girl dad cheol as a boy dad thoughts: 1

yoon jeonghan

love languages: yoon jeonghan drabbles: sick leave

hong jisoo

love languages: hong jisoo goodnight kiss here for you jisoo as twin girls' dad

moon junhui

love languages: moon junhui drabbles: timezones

kwon soonyoung

soonyoung as a girl dad drabbles: drunk hoshi

jeon wonwoo

drabbles: best friend in love

lee jihoon

drabbles: "i cant sleep."

lee seokmin

dabbles: period care

kim mingyu

drabbles: mingyu caring for a sick reader mingyu down bad for ass

xu minghao

drabbles: diss tracks and dirt talks

boo seungkwan

chwe hansol

vernon as a girl dad

lee chan

headcannons: boob guy! chan

[sebastiannewai]

Tripped | csc

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⋆ scoups x reader

⋆ you get hurt before the follow concert and didn’t tell scoups 

⋆ fluff, slight angst

⋆ WORD COUNT: 1064

a/n it’s my first time writing. Please be kind asdjdnas I’m scared. lol thank you~

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Today is the start of the Follow Tour, as you are a part of the 98z friend group and dating Scoups you decided to go watch it with Jungwoo to show support for Seventeen.

You and Seungcheol have been casually dating for 2 months now. Seungkwan has introduced him to you that one time you went to their dorm to pick him up for a 98 liner group hangout. He asked for your number & you gave it thinking that it’s just a friendly thing but you guys never stopped talking since.

Jungwoo has picked you up from your place. The ride to the venue was fast and not that hectic. As you were about to get in the venue, you tripped and fell face first, fortunately your reflex was fast that you were able to land on your hands. Your hands got scratched. While you were busy fighting with the pavement, Jungwoo’s laughing his ass off & taking photos of you.

“why are you kissing the ground?” he said with his annoying smile.

“Ya! Help me first!” you said, grumpily while trying to pick yourself up

Good thing you always have band-aids and plasters wherever you go. You cleaned the wound and put plasters in them. At this point, Jungwoo is still snapping photos of you. That annoying puppy.

Once we got settled in your respective seats Seungcheol called.

“hey y/n, are you guys in? Are you guys seated?” he said.

“hey, we’re good. Why are you calling? Aren’t you busy getting ready?”

“A little bit but I have to go. I’m next in line for hair and make up. I just  wanted to know If you’re here and safe ”

“haha okay,cheollie. We’re here and seated.The stage set up is amazing! The show hasn’t even started but I’m sure you guys will kill it!” you said excitedly.

“thank you, y/n.”

You decided not to tell him about the accident, you didn’t think it was a big deal and there is just too much on his plate right now. He needs to focus on the concert. Maybe it’ better if you tell him after the whole thing.

While waiting, you got busy snapping photos of the stage set up and banners to put on your ig story for the memories. You posted them and tagged the boys. Little did you know, your exhibition at the parking lot has already reached Seungcheol.

 *BACK STAGE*

“Scoups-hyung, look at this photo Jungwoo sent!” Seungkwan said while laughing and showing him a picture of you tripping.

“when was this? She got hurt?” Scoups replied worriedly.

“ yeah, she tripped outside at the parking lot. Jungwoo said she scraped her hand while trying to avoid her face hitting the pavement. She is okay now, she already put a band aid on her hand. Look!” Vernon said while showing another photo that Jungwoo sent. It’s you trying to clean and cover up the wound.

Seungcheol ignored the two and immidiately called you.

“Hey, I thought your in hair and make up. Is there a problem?” you asked.

“I heard that you tripped and your hand was scratched. Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?!” He said so fast and worry evident in his voice.

“Woah woah, calm down. It’s not that big of a wound…I didn’t think it was a big deal.” you replied shyly.

“I’m going to send someone to get you there and bring you back stage. Let me see that wound.”

” Cheollie, I’m okay. It doesn��t hu--”

“i”ll see you when you get here.” he inturrepted.

5 minutes later, an event staff escorted you to Seungcheol’s dressing room. When you got in, He looked at the make up artist and said

“Can you give us 3 minutes? We just have to talk about something important”

The make up artist agreed and exited the room.

“Come here.” He said motioning for you to sit on his lap.

You fastly went and sat. Not uttering a word.

“ Let me see… does it hurt? Did it bleed a lot?” He asked while slowly removing the band-aid covering your wound and inspecting it.

“ a bit. I got scared of the blood but I’m okay now. It’s not a big deal, Cheollie.”

“ Ofcourse it is. You got hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked looking at you.

“It’s not like I don’t want you to know but It’s a small wound and you’re busy with the concert. I figured it might be better if I tell you after.” you said with your head down not looking at him.

He held your chin and lift it up to look you in the eyes.

“You have to tell me these things, y/n. No matter how small, I want to know. No matter how busy I am, tell me. I was so worried when I saw the picture of you bleeding.”

“sorry” you whispered in tiny.

“That’s okay but please next time..tell me okay?”

“okay” you whispered again in tiny.

He got the first aid kit and cleaned your wound and put a new band aid on it.

“all done!” he said and kissed your hand.

“thank you! I have to go I’m taking too much of your time. You have to get ready” you replied.

“but this is comfy” he said whining, back hugging you while you’re seated on his lap.

“I’ll see you later. Break a leg. Mr. Choi.” you said while you remove his arms wrapped on your waist. You faced him, kissed his cheek and ran outside to go to your seat.

Seungcheol was left there shocked and smiling like a mad man cupping his cheek.

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

I dont know if I'll write a part two hihi

Thanks for reading! Sorry if there are grammatical errors haha im still learning.

thoughts? twt : @sebbiwai

[rubyreduji]

Spring Break — csc

summary: even during spring break you still don't take a day off with professor choi

tags: smut (minors dni!), college!au, professor!seungcheol warnings: explicit unprotected sex, age gap, daddy kink, impregnation kink, oral (f. receiving), minor overstimulation, gentle choking wc: 2.3k an: i was planning on writing this and then i got a request for it so it bumped up on my priority list lol. this may be the finale to the professor!cheol series but who knows

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4

You stare up at the large house before getting the courage to walk up the porch and rap your knuckles against the door. You lick your lips as you wait, thinking about what’s to come later. A duffle bag is slung over your shoulder as you grip the straps in anticipation, silently begging for the door to open soon.

Your college is on spring break right now which means you have a week of no obligations, free to do whatever you please.

Suddenly the front door opens to reveal a man standing in the doorway, staring back at you. When you see him a small smirk spreads across your lips.

Spring break means you’re free to do whatever you please, and for you, whatever you please to do just happens to be Choi Seungcheol, your biology professor.

“Ah sweetheart, come in.” Seungcheol steps to the side to let you in. When you step into the house Seungcheol takes your bag from you before closing the door and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Unlike his normal attire he wears when teaching, he’s in just a sweater and a pair of slacks. You internally grin at how even on his off days he still dressed up more than most people do. 

A few weeks ago spring break was brought up between you and Seungcheol and before you knew it you had plans to spend the week at the professor’s house. In the past month or so your relationship with Seungcheol has taken a shift. You’ve been interacting with the man a lot more outside of class whether it’s texting him throughout the day or sitting in his office during his free periods. You’ve even taken to eating your lunch together if you’re both available.

In that time you’ve gotten to know the man better. You find that you enjoy spending time with the man no matter if your actions are sexual or not. You occasionally wonder if you’re flying too close to the sun but then again you don’t think you care all too much.

“So this is where the elusive Professor Choi lives?” Your eyes scan around the area. The interior resembles that of a traditional Korean house but still keeping up with modern trends. You wonder who does Seungcheol’s interior design, assuming that he doesn’t do it himself.

“Elusive,” Seungcheol snorts. “I don’t believe that I’ve been too elusive to you.”

“Oh no, not to me, to everyone else. See, I’m special.” You grin back at the older man. A look of fondness settles on his features.

“Very special.” Seungcheol reaches out to grab your hand and pull you into him. His hand comes up to cup your face and he guides you into a soft kiss. The kiss is tender and romantic and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You smile into the kiss before pulling away a bit.

“You know…your house is big, yet so empty,” you say, looking around the space.

“Ah I guess so. It can be lonely at times,” Seungcheol muses.

“Would you like to fix that daddy?” You ask softly. “Fill this house with a wife and kids?” You see Seungcheol’s eyes flash at the change in your demeanor. You lean in close to whisper in his ear. “I stopped taking my birth control a week ago.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol curses under his breath. He runs his hand over your stomach lightly, before leaning down to kiss you. This kiss is different from the one a few seconds earlier. This time Seungcheol grips you tightly and presses his lips against yours fiercely. 

“C-cheol!” You gasp. Seungcheol picks you up and you wrap your arms around him as he carries you to his bedroom.

“D-daddy~” you mewl as Seungcheol runs his hands over your bare hips. His face is buried between your legs as he sucks your clit between his lips. He takes his time, flicking his tongue over the bud and relishing in the way you shudder. His hands move down to squeeze your thighs, kneading at the fat as he continues to make out with your pussy.

It’s rare for Seungcheol to eat you out because he doesn’t like to get messy before a class, but now you’re regretting not having done this before. You run your hands through his hair as he buries his face farther into your cunt. His tongue darts into your entrance and you buck your hips up, only for Seungcheol to push your hips back down onto the bed.

You’re dripping wet now as your professor eats you out. His lips and tongue work as a unit to flood your body with pleasure. 

“P-please Cheol, need more,” you beg. Seungcheol pulls his face away from you. He’s a bit out of breath and the lower of his face is slick with your arousal. He wipes his face off before looking up at you.

“Does my baby girl need me to fuck you nice and good?” All you can do is nod and Seungcheol smirks before standing up.

You’re fully naked already and expecting Seungcheol to just take his dick out of his pants like normal, but instead he starts to pull his sweater off and your breath hitches. You watch with aroused anticipation as Seungcheol strips off his clothes. More and more skin comes into view and you can’t get enough.

You’ve never seen Seungcheol completely naked before and now that you’ve gotten a taste you don’t think you’ll be able to accept anything less now. Despite his older age his body is still fit and rugged. His normal suit attire does a good job of covering up his hard muscles and tanned skin that has you nearly drooling. The whole package is tied together by Seungcheol’s large cock that hangs in the air, hard and waiting to fuck you.

“Going to put a fucking baby into you,” Seungcheol growls as he climbs onto the bed. He crawls over you so he can line his dick up to your entrance. You grab at his face and he leans down to kiss you. As your lips meld together Seungcheol takes this moment to sheath into you. You whine into the kiss but Seungcheol doesn’t allow you to pull away from him.

Your lips continue to move against each other as Seungcehol starts to move his hips into yours. The sensation of his dick sliding in and out of you elicits soft moans from you. Seungcheol finally pulls his lips away from yours only to move them onto your neck. His soft, plump lips press kisses into your fevered skin while one of his hands moves up to squeeze your tits.

You wrap your legs around the older man’s waist, holding him close to you as his cock digs into your cervix. You feel well loved as Seungcheol continues to thrust into you. His whole body works at yours, pleasuring and worshiping you.

It’s so different than when you guys fuck in Seungcheol’s office. Different in a good way. There’s no rush to get done before Seungcheol’s next class. Seungcheols’s not worried about keeping his normal composed manner. It’s also nice to be pressed against a mattress rather than his desk. 

You can’t help but feel like the mood is more romantic as well. The way Seungcheol’s hands move over your skin in gentle touches. His moves are more intentional rather than just with the purpose of getting the job done. Even the way his lips press against yours conveys more love than usual. You didn’t think you could fall for your professor even more than you already have, but here he is, proving you wrong.

You don’t mind the way that you and Seungcheol usually have sex, but you don’t think you’ve ever felt so good before. Even when Seungcheol fucks you stupid, plowing into you at rapid paces, making your mind numb, it will never feel as good as the way he’s fucking you now.

The sound of his soft grunts sends warmth coursing through your body. The drag of his cock inside of you fills your brain with a satisfactory fuzziness. Just when you don’t think things can get better Seungcheol is grabbing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest. His trusts get harder and you moan loudly as he hits at a new angle. 

“God you’re so pretty like this,” Seungcheol mutters. “So ready to be filled up with cum. Make you mommy.”

You groan at his words. Thoughts of you carrying Seungcheol’s babies flood your mind and you nearly cum right there. Seungcheol can tell too by the way your walls twitch around him and he grins.

His strong hands grab your thighs and push them up into your chest. The new angle has his cock digging right into your g-spot and you whine louder as he pounds into you even harder. You can feel your thighs start to tremble, not just from the position but also from the pleasure building up inside your body.

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol coos. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please. Please cum in me,” you beg, your voice high and whiny. “I need it. Want to be filled up, want to have your babies.” 

Seungcheol leans down and connects your lips. You kiss him fervently, drowning yourself in him, as his hips stutter in you. He groans against your lips and you feel his cum leak into your pussy. The feeling has you falling apart in his arms as well, your whole body trembling as your pussy spasms around him. Seungcheol releases your legs from the position they’re in and gently pulls out of you. 

His dick is still hard and despite still panting a bit he helps you turn over so you’re laying flat on your stomach. “Such a good girl for me,” Seungcheol mutters as he crawls over you. He slowly inserts his cock back into your entrance, thrusting softly into you. You’re still sensitive and the rub of Seungcheol’s cock inside of you has your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your head falling onto the pillows.

Seungcheol’s front is flush to your back as he ruts into you. His body is warm and fits against yours perfectly. He fucks into you, pushing his cum into you even deeper. His pace is slower, more gentle. Seungcheol presses soft kisses into your shoulder as he drags a hand down your side.

“God Y/N you’re so, so perfect. The prettiest girl I know. Fuck.” Seungcheol’s groan has you whining, your insides clenching down and Seungcheol groans again.

“C-cheol~ need you. Need your cum. Need to be your good little wife. Daddy please,” you beg.

Seungcheol curses again and starts to thrust his hips faster. His hand curls around you so he can grip the base of your neck, not completely choking you but still applying pressure in the most delicious way possible. His thick cock pounds into you, filling your pussy and mind with flutters.

“Please don’t stop. Feels so good daddy, please don’t stop.” You’re babbling at this point but Seungcheol doesn’t mind, in fact it feels like he’s encouraged by your words from the way his grip on you tightens.

“Gonna fucking carry my babies. Make you so–augh fuck–so round and sexy.” It seems like Seungcheol is babbling himself. It fills you with pride knowing you can decompose the man in a way nobody else can.

It catches you off guard, but suddenly you’re gasping and spasming around Seungcheol, pleasuring flooding your body as you reach your climax. Seungcheol isn’t far behind, spilling his seed into your spent pussy as he orgasms himself.

Seungcheol lays down on the bed next to you and pulls you into his arms. You two exchange soft kisses as his hands roam your bare skin.

“Are you okay baby girl?” He whispers and you nod, already feeling sleepy. Seungcheol chuckles and pulls away from you to get up. You lay on his bed as he goes to get you water and a towel.

You bury yourself farther into his bed as you wait for him. His sheets smell like his cologne, a scent that’s come to be comforting to you. You think to yourself how you could get used to this. Laying in Seungcheol’s bed, living in his house, being his little wife. It makes you giddy to think that you’ll be with him all week, almost like a test run of being his housewife.

You can still feel Seungcheol’s cum inside of you and you grin to yourself, your head filling with thoughts of being pregnant. Seungcheol doting on you for nine months as you carry his baby inside of you. You guys starting a family together with mini you’s running around the house. It’s not the first time these fantasies have plagued your mind either. You’ve been thinking about it for weeks now, obsessed with the idea of becoming Seungcheol’s wife, the mother to his children.

Seungcheol walks back into the room, pulling you from your thoughts. He helps cleans you up as you drink your water. When he’s finished he leans down to kiss you again.

“You know I love you, right?” Your heart bursts. You know Seungcheol loves you, but this is the first time he’s said it out loud.

“Of course Cheol,” you cup his face in your hands, “I love you too.” You bring him into another kiss, pulling him down onto the bed with you. Your mind flashes back to your thoughts from a few minutes ago and you smile against Seungcheol’s lips. It warms your heart to know he wants the same thing as you. 

Your untaken birth control and Seungcheol’s two loads in you fill you with hope, and even if he didn’t get you pregnant this time, you guys have all week to work on it. 

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @enhacolor @niktwazny303 @chaimi-yuta @yolkz @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @coupsgyus @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @luvthatleader-nim @wonchansbrooklynn @d0nghyck @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @baldi-2 @sunnyteume @vtn-dahyun @honeylovemoon @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @lovelyp3ach @niyizh @cbgisland @kpopandbitchcraft @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @hoeforcheol @x-veex @synthetickitsune @namjoonbaby

join my taglist: here!

[misotsukiiyeooo]

"Just one more?" Part 3

Pairing:Husband!Father CSC x F! Mother!Reader

A/N: I'M BACKKK!!! After the polled votes came in I immediately started to write lmao! This one will also be a bit longer since it's the last one...or is it? jkkk unless...Enjoy!

Genre: Fluff (Hint of crack)

Word count: 16.6k (Not proofread sry)

Synopsis: After Seungcheol finds out you're pregnant, again, the whole experience has been, tender, lovely, and well....shocking

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

3 Months Later

Everything with Seungcheol has been so perfect. Well, this is your fourth kid but that's what made the experience even better.

He already knew how to help you with your cravings and everything.

Telling the rest of his members was also fun. Of course, Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Joshua ran up to hug you first.

And telling your children was also exciting with Seojun, your oldest son hugging you while Jieun, your second child blabbers on how she's going to dress up the baby. Your youngest, Dohyun just smiles handing you a toy to play with him.

Today, You and Seungcheol are so excited because you can finally find out the sex of your child.

"Babe, we're going to be late!" He's rushing you, clearly he's more excited than you are.

"I'm coming hold on!" You grab your sweater and wave goodbye to your kids and thank Seungkwan once again for watching them.

Seungcheol holds your hand as you walk down the stairs. "I'm only three months, Cheol..." He still treats you as if you were going into labor this instant.

"I know....but we still need to be careful" You look at him while he continues to talk nonsense.

Entering the car, he closes your door; going to the driver's side.

"What do you think the gender is?" You ask him, curiously. "Hm, probably another boy. But whatever the gender is, I'll love them either way." He looks at you fondly.

"You're so cheesy! But I think it'll be a girl because we just had a boy and it seems like a pattern." Seungcheol thinks about it, nodding. "You're probably right, but there's only one way to right out." He starts the car.

As you enter the hospital, you are greeted with warm smiles. "Hi, I had an appointment for an ultrasound today." The nice lady behind the desk looks at you. "Oh yes, Choi Y/n was it? Please fill out these papers and bring them back to me."

She hands you some medical papers and you take them, walking to a seat where Seungcheol's already at.

After filling out the papers you hand them to the lady to take your seat again but before you even sit back down, your nurse calls you in.

"Choi Y/n?" She calls out. "Yes?" You both lock eyes, smiling. "Follow me right this way."

You hold Seungcheol's hand, excited and nervous to find out the sex.

You are seated in the reclined seat while Seungcheol stands beside you. "So you're finally three months! You're here to find out the sex, right?" You nod.

The nurse puts the cold gel on your belly causing you to twitch. You look at the screen above which shows the ultrasound.

"Seems like your baby's doing well." She continues to look at the screen. Her eyes widen, causing you to get scared.

"Is something wrong?" You and Seungcheol both look at her. "I'm afraid I'm not able to say anything. Only the doctor could, and she shall be here shortly." She exits.

You feel anxious, many negative thoughts running through your mind. 'Is the baby sick?' 'Is the baby alright?'. Taking you out of your thoughts, you feel Seugcheol grip your hand.

"Everything's going to be okay, alright?" Just the right words you wanted to hear.

A few seconds later, the doctor enters. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Choi. Is everything alright? I just received some information from the nurse who was here, and I want to check it out for myself."

"If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong?" Seungcheol asked, looking quite nervous himself.

The doctor now looks at the screen. "There seems to be two babies in here."

"What!?" You and Seungcheol both say in unison.

"How's that possible? When I came here two weeks ago they said they only saw one?" You're utterly confused.

"You are quite early in your pregnancy so mistakes like this can occur, especially with the babies hiding and such. But yes, look here," She points to the screen. "There's two babies in here, congratulations. You're having twins!"

You're both left shocked, mouths gaped. "I'm not mad...however I'm just in shock." You let out, not knowing whether to be excited or in tears.

"What are their genders?" Seungcheol pitches in. "I'm sorry I almost forgot to even tell you. This one's a girl and the other's a boy." The doctor points at the screen, identifying each baby.

"A boy and a girl?!?" You still can't believe this.

"Yes but if you'll excuse me, I have another patient that needs to be checked. If there are any more questions, you can ask anytime, take care and remember not to stress too much." The doctor exits and you sigh, now facing Seungcheol.

"You did say you wanted another baby" He smiles. "Yeah, but I didn't expect to have babies!" You both look at each other, breaking the silence with laughter.

"I'm a bit scared though...we have to get two of everything and more stress, more waking up at night, more everything! And no wonder I'm so huge at only three months!!" Seungcheol wants to let out maybe even the tiniest bit of laughter but knowing how hormonal you are, he could never do such a thing.

"It's going to be alright baby, you need to remember; that I'm also here. I would never let you do this alone." He holds your hands.

"Hm...You're right, I'm sorry but still, these are two babies!" You let out. "I can't even imagine the boy's faces when I tell them," Seungcheol said.

Arriving home you see Seungkwan and the kids playing together. "You sure you don't want to have your own kids?" You rest your hand on your hip, smiling at him.

"No, most definitely not. I'm good as a fun uncle, not a father." He lets out a chuckle causing you to also laugh.

"Well, I have some news...we're having twins!!" His face has shock written all over it.

"Twins? Twins!!" Seungkwan rushes over to you, hugging you tightly. "Kwan...the twins, remember?"

He made an 'o' shape with his mouth and then let go, apologizing.

"When are you going to tell the rest of the boys?" Seungkwan asks. "Maybe tomorrow? I can't wait to see their faces!"

Seungcheol comes back from the kid's room after putting them to bed while you are talking with Seungkwan. "Well as much as I love to stay and talk with you, I have to get home. Practice is pretty early for us." He looks over at Seungcheol.

"Right, get home safe Seungkwan." Seungcheol waves as you walk Seungkwan out.

After saying your goodbyes' he left; leaving you and Seungcheol alone. "I still can't believe everything that's happened today..." You hug Seungcheol who already has his arms open for you.

"I know, I'm even more excited now that I know it's twins," he says as he kisses your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips causing you to giggle.

"Should we get ready for bed? You also have a long day tomorrow you know." You said earning a pout from him. "But I wanted to spend my day with you and the kids tomorrow..."

Smiling at his cuteness, you play with his hair, "How about we visit you during practice? We do have to tell the boys about the twins."

"I do like the sound of that." Seungcheol kisses you once again before you head off to bed.

Next Day

You wake up to an empty bed. However, you do see a post-it note on the side dresser.

'Good morning my beautiful wife, I made breakfast for you and the kids ;)'. Smiling at the note, you get off of bed and freshen up for the day until your kids wake up.

As soon as you got out of the bathroom Dohyun, your three-year-old was walking up to you. Slowly but surely.

"Mama, where dada go? I went to room but no one there" He has his hands in a shrugging position while shaking his head. 'Aw this cutie' You thought.

Taking him into your arms and pampering him with kisses you, finally answer. "I'm sorry Dohyun, dada went to work. Do you want to go surprise him later?"

He doesn't let even a second go by before yelling out excitedly, even waking up the rest of the kids. "Dohyun...you woke me up..." Jieun walks out rubbing her eyes while Seojun's just a couple steps behind her.

"I'm sorry kids, but Dad made you guys breakfast! So after eating, we can get dressed to see him at work."

They both look at each other, then you. "Does that mean we can see our uncles too!!" They say in unison happily.

"Yes, you can but, not if you don't eat breakfast." Seojun and Jieun race to the table to eat the food Seungcheol made in no time.

After driving to get some food, you finally make it to Seungcheol's workplace.

You enter the elevator with the kids. "Mommy, I'm so excited to see Uncle Gyu!" Jieun jumps excitedly.

"Hm, and why is that?" You ask. "Because he's so tall and I can pretend like I'm flying!" She puts one arm up as if she were.

"Well, it's a good thing we're here now." You all exit the elevator and they're already used to the place; running to the practice room before you can even get there.

As you approach, all you can hear are indistinct screams of joy.

Entering the practice room you see all the boys surrounding your kids. Seungcheol notices you immediately and grabs the food out of your hands.

"Babe...why didn't you tell me you were downstairs? I could've helped you with the food." He pouts.

"It's okay, Cheol. It wasn't that heavy." Seungcheol still takes the bags.

"Y/n!!" Mingyu runs to hug you but slows down; eyeing you. "Wow..." You laugh at his face.

"I know, right?" You affirm, moving toward him to offer a reassuring hug because he was too hesitant to do so himself.

"Uncle Gyu! Carry me, carry me!!" Jieun wastes no time asking for what she wanted this whole time.

"Ms.Jieun, please keep all arms and legs in the vehicle at all times." Mingyu bends down so Jieun can go on his back. "Prepare for take off!!" As he runs around the practice room with Jieun, you take the opportunity to head towards everyone else.

"Hey guys!" They all look at you, waving, smiling, and coming up to hug you.

"Thanks Y/n for the food!" Soonyoung thanks you while taking another spoonful. "You're welcome!"

Dohyun walks to Wonwoo- calmly sitting on his lap, you've always noticed Wonwoo was his favorite uncle. Probably because they're both calm people.

And Seojun simply talks with his favorite uncle, Seokmin. He knows how crazy Seokmin is; however, he just finds him enduring.

You sit with everyone, patiently waiting to drop the news. "When are you going to tell them?" Seungkwan whispers next to you. You hit him for whispering too loud, "I'll tell them now..."

You eye Seungcheol, signaling to him that you are ready to tell them. "So guys...I actually have some news." They look at you confused on whether it's good or not.

"Is something wrong?" Jeonghan asks. "Well, no. It's just shocking."

"Tell us, tell us!" Chan grows impatient.

"So, I went to my ultrasound yesterday, and turns out...I'm having twins!!" You finally let out.

Many expressions were shown but you can tell they were all happy; just shown in...different ways.

Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Seokmin literally jump like animals.

Minghao, Jihoon, Wonwoo, and Vernon congratulate you with the biggest smiles.

Junhui and Chan both sit down in shock.

And lastly, Jeonghan and Joshua run up to hug you, again.

"I'm so happy for you!!" Joshua tells you. "Oh my gosh! We can make them just like me and Seokmin!" Everyone pauses; looking at a happy Soonyoung.

"Or maybe not." He shuts up completely as we all laugh.

The rest of the day was spent with the kids playing with their uncles while you talked it up with the ones who weren't occupied.

6 Months Later

Everything has been going well with you carrying twins and all.

Your best friend, Seungkwan threw you a baby shower with the help of your parents.

Your kids felt the twins kick, and Seungcheol almost cried.

Seungcheol even decorated a whole room for the twins. And now you're 9 months pregnant and shopping at the mall.

"That dress in that store looks cute! Let's go Cheollie." You hold your back as you walk into the store.

Grabbing the dress in your size, you head to the changing room, Seungcheol steps behind you.

You managed to successfully put on the cozy dress but taking it off was a hassle. "Cheol? I need help."

He comes into the changing room worried. "What happened?" He asks.

"Nothing too serious I just need help taking off my dress." He lets out a sigh of relief and helps you.

As he lifts up the dress a bit you pause.

"Cheol..stop."

He looks at you puzzled, but lets go.

"Either I just peed my pants or I think my water just broke..." Eyes widening he panics. "Your water broke?!?"

You simply nod, panicking yourself. Out of all places, your water broke before; it's never been at a mall.

You knew you were going to give birth at any point just not right now!

"We-we have to go!" You groan at the contractions. You both try to walk out of the store but get stopped by security.

"Ma'am you can't leave without purchasing the dress." He puts an arm out.

"Add it to my tab, I'll call this place later. It's an emergency." Seungcheol holds you by the waist attempting to calm you before you yell at this man. But the guy once again has his arm out.

"That's what they all say. I'm afraid I can't let you leave without paying."

That's it

"My water just broke and it just so happens to be I was trying on this dress! So if you don't want two fucking babies coming out of me in this store I suggest you listen to my husband and let us fucking go!!" The security's eyes widen, looking you up and down and gulping.

"Well, I'm sorry for not reading the room. Please, go on and give birth to your twins.." He finally moves his hand and you and Seungcheol rush out of the place.

Entering the car, your screams only get louder and louder. "We're almost there, Baby. Almost there.." Seungcheol holds your thigh while driving as fast yet safely as possible.

You make it to the hospital and Seungcheol does the talking for you. "My wife is going into labor." He attempts to stay as calm as possible.

"Come right this way." A nurse brings you to a room while you're very much in pain.

Multiple nurses enter now as your contractions are getting close. "Ms. Choi, breathe, just breathe."

Did she really just tell me that?

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?!?" You counter back. Seungcheol smiles at the lady apologizing for you.

The pain was unbearable, those twins were really doing a number on you.

A doctor finally walks in, "Hello, your contractions are pretty close I see, I'm going to need you to push."

Push!?! Can't she see I can barely even breathe?!?

Seungcheol holds your hand as you are preparing to push.

"And 1, 2, 3, push!" Said the doctor. Only screams were heard; everything felt hazy you didn't know if you could even do it.

"You got this, Babe. Just keep pushing." He never once left your side as you continued to push.

"Just one more Ms.Choi-There we go. A beautiful boy!" The sound of the newborn baby crying calmed you in a way that brought you back to your senses.

The nurses took that baby to clean him while you still felt in pain. "One more Ms.Choi, you got this come on."

"I-I I can't. I can't do it" You felt exhausted, this was serious pain.

"Y/n, look at me- Look at me. You need to push; I know you're tired but there's still our daughter in there waiting to be brought into this world. So push!! I'm right here for you." Seungcheol's words help you realize, you have to keep going.

For the sake of your daughter.

You push as hard as you can, taking breaks, tears leaving your eyes, and even sweat dripping from your forehead.

But that didn't stop you from completing your mission.

And with the last push, your daughter was finally out. "Congratulations Ms. Choi, you did well."

You drop your head on the pillow, and tears of happiness and pain keep escaping your eyes. "You did it Y/n...it's all okay now." Seungcheol kisses your forehead and those are the last words you hear before falling into deep sleep.

After some time, you blink your eyes open only for them to be set on Seungcheol holding two babies in his hand. Tears of joy leaving his own eyes.

"Oh look, mommy's up! let's go say hi." He walks up to you so you can see your children.

"They look perfect, right?" He said as you can't even keep your eyes off them.

"I know, they must've gotten that from me." You chuckle at your newly found confidence. "I think they did." He adds on giggling himself.

"What should we name them?"Seungcheol asks you. "Hm..I don't know yet..."

"How about I name one and you name the other?" He proposes. "But they should rhyme, no?" You ask. "If you want them too."

"Well then, what if...she's Jisu and...he's Jiho?" You pitch in, pointing at each kid, waiting for his response.

He nods, "I think it's perfect. Jisu sounds cute like her and Jiho sounds manly like this handsome boy here." He kisses they're cheeks.

"Jisu and Jiho it is."

Reqs are open!!

This adorable divider is by @dollywons !!

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