#Soop!AU ??
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soop-jpg · 7 months ago
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happy one week of pride! i have lesbian brainrot its incurable and probably terminal
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collectivelysillysoup · 19 days ago
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More au posting!
Meet Grian :3
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He's got a glass eye because he got sick of people asking what happened (face feathers cover the scar so he never gets questioned anymore). He has his own backstory before the robot fighting but we aren't sure if we should separate from that or not, since some people would see it as an unnecessary addition to a bot fighting au...
Feel free to send us asks and stuff please we wanna talk about this so bad /silly
ALSO!! If anyone has suggestions to what the story/au could be called please let us know!! Hermitbots sounds kinda misleading lol
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ashchoo · 2 years ago
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Another gift for Ashton :]]]
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GOOD FUCKIN SCRAN 💪💪
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smol-soop-spoon · 7 months ago
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Was looking through my drafts folder for something and found an old Richard fic just?? Laying around?? It's almost 5k and unfinished but damn what was this bitch on??? She was WRITING.
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justmochi · 2 years ago
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IN THE SOOP EP 2 BEHIND
pairing :: rosie x dino
word count :: 0.2k
synopsis :: dino tucks in a tipsy rosie
a/n :: italics weren’t in the final cut but WE ALL KNOW IT HAPPENED EITHER WAY
taglist :: @cafemilk-tea​ @cixrosie​ @moonlight-additions​ @cosmicwintr​ @astraw-astro​​ @ateezjuliet​​ @fromfreesia @succulentmom​​ @kimhyejin3108​​ @enhacolor​​
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The two entered the lower house, taking slow steps and Dino holding onto her arm so Rosie didn’t stumble. He followed her guidance, finding the room she had claimed for them earlier in the day.
Rosie stood awkwardly to the side as he pulled apart the bed, taking all the covers and fluffing the pillows so he could tuck her in. She pressed her palms to her cheeks, giggling quietly before he held his hand out for her.
He patted the mattress, the girl sitting down on the edge and kicking her feet up. He took the blankets, covering her feet first and then her upper body. He looked down at her with a smile, watching her yawn.
He scooted her body enough so he could sit down at the edge of the bed, patting her legs before sighing.
“Do you need a bucket? Do you think you’re gonna puke?”
She shook her head like a child. “I’m just buzzed. No biggie.” She then scooted back in the bed, leaving enough room for him before holding the blankets up for him to join her.
He smirked at her before shaking his head. “I’m gonna say goodnight to the hyungs first. Then I’ll be in.”
She frowned, wanting to at least fall asleep with him laying next to her. She huffed, rolling her eyes and turning her back towards him.  “I see.”
He climbed into the bed real quick, leaving a warm kiss on the top of her head. Her hair still smelled amazing and like roses. She tried her best to act like she was ignoring him, but she couldn’t hide the gummy smile on her face.
“Goodnight Jangmi.” He whispered, making his way to the door and turning off the light switch.
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purple-ant · 5 months ago
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…Sifo-Dyas knows for sure – when he is able to know – that he can get used to this new hell. He just needs time and he will find his rhythm again. Just don't take him any deeper…please.
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direwombat · 1 year ago
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wip music monday
tagged by @inafieldofdaisies, @cassietrn, and @simplegenius042 for some music inspiring my wip(s)
tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton, @adelaidedrubman, @henbased, @aceghosts, @poetikat, @confidentandgood, @jillvalentinesday, @sstewyhosseini, @river-ward, @strafethesesinners, @strangefable, @madparadoxum, @voidika, @deputyash, @harmonyowl, @trench-rot, @locustandwildhoney, @purplehairsecretlair, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, and anyone else wanting to share some music that's inspiring them!
nothing new on the katc frontier but i've been gettin' back into the werewolf/quasi-red-riding hood au, so here's a song that pretty accurately sums up every single jacob pov section and his general attitude towards his fixation with syb
I gotta feed my appetite See you can run, but you can't hide Scream for more, yeah alright, yeah Every breath, every breath cuts just like a knife Down your neck and down your spine I love the taste of your flesh, woman My, what big eyes you have, oh yeah My, what a tongue you have, that's right woman My, what sharp teeth you have Better to see you or taste you or lead you, I need you My, what big eyes you have, oh, oh, right My, what a tongue you have, oh, yeah My, what sharp teeth you have I'm a sinner, a rebel, when night falls I'm a wolf Oh, yeah, I, I Alright, yeah, yeah Let me in and I'll take my time, woman (yeah, baby) You say you want it big and bad (don't ya) You say you like it big and bad, baby Everything you've never had I'm a sinner, a savage, but mostly I'm a wolf
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onyxonline · 11 months ago
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The way I was giggling and kicking my feet reading this
Ok, you don't have to answer this, but how do you know we are people too? For all you know, we can be spys or something
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“And this is just Dogday when I’m so much as mildly inconvenienced, imagine the whole pack if someone so much as scratches me”
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ugh-yoongi · 4 months ago
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ex-conomics | csc
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you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.
⚽ pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader ⚽ genre: exes to (lite) enemies to lovers; university au; angst, fluff ⚽ rating: while there is nothing explicit in this fic, there are two brief references to smut. while i can't stop anyone from reading this, i would prefer minors do not interact with this or any of my work. ⚽ warnings: cheol is some degree of famous, reader is a grad student/TA, mentions of an injury and coping with the aftermath of it, lots of economics talk that even i do not understand, swearing, one mention of alcohol, some misplaced jealousy, rom-com tropes, dino is kind of a loser but we love him anyway. probably a lot of other things i missed, but this is actually pretty tame for a fic of this length. ⚽ word count: 13.4k ⚽ thank you: a lot of people looked this over for me in the process and i'm sure i will forget some of them so if i do i'm sorry: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, @highvern, and @haologram, who also gave me some wonderful ideas for the vlogs. thank you to MIT for opencourseware existing. i took microeconomics and dropped it, so i couldn't have done this without you. everyone in the discord server for helping me along the way and keeping me motivated. ⚽ author's note: i haven't posted a fic in nearly seven months, so i think it goes without saying that there are parts of this i like and a lot more i'm not 100% happy with. i'd love if this was more fleshed out and 10k longer, but i was able to write anything at all so it's good enough. this was written for the back to school with seventeen collab, hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you both for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories! everyone worked so hard and this collab was a ton of fun to participate in. <3
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You look down at the paper. Back up at who handed it to you. Down at the paper again.
“You’ve got to be joking.”
The poor freshman kid laughs, all nerves, and even though the sound is grating, you remember what it’s like to be forced into work study. How far away graduate school seemed; how large your professors loomed over you with all their power and knowledge and credentials; how you constantly felt like the dumbest person in nearly every room you walked into for four straight years.
“Um—”
You sigh, just barely resisting the urge to slam your head onto your desk. “I—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Your words do little to ease Freshman’s nerves. He’s still hunched over in the doorway of your office, wringing his hands as he shifts his weight back and forth, in for a lifetime of body pain with the way he’s squaring his shoulders. “You’re sure about this, though? Like, I’m really not being set up?”
“I don’t think so?” he offers, slowly starting to turn green right before your eyes. “Dr. Lee ga-gave me the paperwork himself, I don’t think he would’ve messed it up? Oh no, did I mess it up? Should I go back to Student Services and conf—”
Good god, this kid’s anxiety is gonna stink up your office for weeks. “No need!” you interject. “I’ll just…” Sign it, you want to say, but the longer you stare at the sheet of paper the quicker you’re losing your resolve.
TUTORING REQUEST FORM Student Name: Choi Seungcheol Degree: Undergraduate Major: Business Course: ECON04101 Introduction to Microeconomics Instructor: Lee Yeonseok, PhD. Recommended Tutoring: High (3-4 hours per week)
You curse under your breath. Of the two names on the paper, Dr. Lee’s does not come as a surprise. He’s a notorious hard-ass with an infamous attrition rate—most students don’t last more than a week in any of his classes—but he’s also the sole reason you were able to pay for someof your grad school tuition out of pocket with all the tutoring money you made.
That, however, was two years ago.
“Does he know I don’t tutor anymore?” Stupid question. The kid stares blankly back at you, as if to say I don’t know any more than the people in Student Services, let alone Dr. Lee. It is literally my first year here. “I’m Dr. Ahn’s TA this year. I’ve got my hands full with her bullsh… stuff—”
Immediately, you know you’ve said something wrong, because the kid’s eyes light up, all that previous anxiety disappearing like smoke. “Wait, the same Dr. Ahn that teaches the crypto course?”
“No, that one died,” you say quickly. Kid deflates. “Anyway, I don’t really tutor anymore, especially for econ. As you can see”—you gesture vaguely around the cramped four walls of your office—“they’ve upgraded me. They even put my name on a little placard by the door! Go look! They spelled it wrong! If that doesn’t sum up this university I don’t know what does.”
You heave another sigh. Try to school your face and tone into something that exudes professionalism and finality. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I tutored Dr. Lee’s students for, like, three years in undergrad so I’m sure they just… forgot that wasn’t my actual job here. Who’s in charge of tutoring these days? I’ll shoot them an email and explain all this.”
Freshman gives you a name, and it takes less than a second to find them in the employee directory. You expect that to be the end of it, but he’s still taking up space in your doorway. You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”
The hand-wringing returns, along with an embarrassed flush that disappears beneath the neckline of his school-branded sweatshirt. “I just—um. Maybe you could, uh. Send that now? Before I get back there?”
You blink. “Don’t you have to go all the way back across campus? How slow do you think I type?” He shrugs, and you give up on the idea of getting rid of him. “Fine. What’s your name, anyway?”
“Lee Chan. I’m a sophomore. Do you know that guy?”
“Oh. I thought for sure you were a freshman, but you’re gonna need to be more specific, Lee Chan, Sophomore.”
“The guy they want you to tutor.” You freeze. The guy they want you to tutor is—“Choi Seungcheol,” Chan tacks on, and, yeah, you know—knew, you correct yourself—someone with that name, once upon a time.
But there are a lot of Chois and a lot of Seungcheols. It’s been years since you’ve spoken to the Seungcheol you knew, and that was when he’d broken up with you to—“I heard he’s a football player? Well, used to be, I guess. The girls in the office were freaking out so I guess he’s pretty famous, but I don’t know anything about sports, do you? They said they have photocards of him. I thought they only did that for idols.”
You think about being kids together in Daegu. Think about the exasperated looks you’d share when your parents would drag the two of you to festivals: Palgongsan in the autumn, Biseulsan in the spring; transformation and rebirth. Think about being eight years old and watching your father cram into the small space of the Chois’ living room, standing around the TV with Seungcheol’s dad, shouting at Park Jonghwan. Daegu FC made the FA Cup quarterfinals that year, and you think, of everything, that’s what you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
You think about falling in love slowly. Sixteen and clueless, the pair of you were. Didn’t really know any different, just that you’d look at him and feel butterflies. That you’d hold hands in secret. Text beneath the dinner table. That you’d watch him on the football pitch and be consumed by pride. That the future felt impossibly far away, that life would never catch up to the two of you.
You think about all the football jargon you didn’t understand—the academies, the teams, the implications. You think about, I’m thinking about trying out for the FC Seoul U-18, I just don’t think there’s much more I can do here in Daegu. You think about replying, Oh, I applied to university there.
You remember thinking it must’ve been fate, how easy that had worked out. How easy that first hurdle had been overcome.
You think about how fast everything happened. The try-out, the acceptance, the explosion. Remember being unable to go anywhere those first few months without seeing Seungcheol’s face, touted as the next big thing. Think about applying for scholarships when he was applying for international visas. Think about studying for midterms when Seungcheol was studying English for interviews.
You think about the last few weeks of your relationship, when it felt like you were desperately trying to cling to ghosts. Think about how Seoul had once felt endlessly big, both in opportunity and size, and how it now felt suffocating. You think about, So you’re just giving up? Is that what you’re saying? Think about, I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t feel fair to you.
You think about all the places you’ve watched him. On countless football pitches; shy glances in school hallways; in the passenger seat, wracked with nerves on the drive to Seoul; poised above you in bed, hairline dotted with sweat as he rolled his hips, telling you how much he loved you.
You think about watching him walk out the door, and how you never watched him again.
So you fire off your email, concise and to the point about why you can’t tutor Choi Seungcheol in Introduction to Microeconomics, and turn to Lee Chan, Sophomore.
“No,” you finally answer. “Never heard of him.”
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For all intents and purposes, your rejection should’ve been the end of it.
A few days go by. You hold office hours, attend lectures, work on your thesis when you have both the time and the energy. Try to ignore the feeling of bees beneath your skin, anxiety needling each time you check your email. You were well within your right to decline the tutoring request, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. That someone somehow knows who Seungcheol was to you and will pull you up on it. That those girls who’d gushed about him to Chan are somewhere laughing at your expense.
But you don’t hear anything at all about it… until you do.
Sunday evening. You haven’t moved from your couch in hours, some variety show playing in the background, barely audible over your keyboard clacking. Much to your detriment, you don’t write many papers these days, so you’re out of practice. Feels like you haven’t done anything besides formulas in years, all of your academic knowledge reduced to fucking math, so you’re about ready to toss your laptop out the window long before the email even comes through.
You see, From: Lee Yeonseok. You see, Subject: Choi Seungcheol - Tutoring.
Your stomach plummets to the floor.
You scan the body quickly. You see the words personal favor… friend of his father… urgent matter… and your hands start shaking. Whether it’s from the sheer audacity of this man or anxiety, you aren’t sure, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t a whole lot of people on campus brave or dumb enough to go up against him twice.
“Motherfucker,” you spit, bitter the only taste in your mouth.
Where did you go wrong to wind up here? You’d followed the script: got the grades, passed the exams, received half of the required education for the Respectable Career, helped a few others along the way chase dreams that may or may not have been their own. You’d fallen in love. Only had a broken heart to show for it, but that’d been in the script, too: The First Love, followed by The First Heartbreak.
The split from Seungcheol was supposed to have been the end of that chapter. You’d planned on never seeing him again, and you never would have, had it been up to you. Apparently the universe has other plans, participation required.
“Did you spill onion dip on the rug again?” You startle, sending your laptop flying. Kaori, your roommate, is perched halfway in between the living room and the kitchen like a cryptid, clearly not expecting your reaction. “Oh. Were you watching porn?”
Face burning, you fetch your laptop from the floor. “In a common area? Kaori, please, I have far more decorum than that.”
She snorts, resuming her trek to the fridge. “See, that’s what I thought, but then I walked out here and you threw your laptop so fast it was like watching my ex get caught watching furry porn all over again.” She pries the lid off a large container of yogurt. “You think this is still good?”
“Dunno. What’s it smell like?”
She sniffs it and pulls it back to check the label. “Vanilla, I think, which is concerning because it’s supposed to be strawberry.”
You shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen, you get extra”—you pause, trying to remember the correct order of things, before giving up entirely—“...biotics?”
“Mm, so close. Care if I just eat this with a spoon?”
Nose scrunched, you wave her off. “Couldn’t pay me to eat yogurt on a good day, let alone if it’s expired. All yours, babe.”
Spoon in hand and a pleased smile on her face, Kaori collapses onto the couch beside you. You try to return your attention to your paper, try to find your momentum again, and it works for all of ten minutes before you’re groaning and slamming the top closed.
You don’t even need to look over to know Kaori’s staring. “What’s up with you?” she asks. Before she can answer: “Wait, is this serious? Because I can’t have a serious conversation in this t-shirt.” You steal a glance sideways. Ask Me About My Hemorrhoid! it says, and you exhale loudly. “Don’t breathe at me, I lost a bet.”
“And continued wearing it?”
She jokingly rolls her eyes. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.” Nudges you with her foot. “C’mon, spill.”
Kaori doesn’t know about you and Seungcheol. Most people don’t, aside from a few old classmates from Daegu who found you on social media and tried befriending you once he started making a name for himself in Seoul. After that, it was just easier to keep things private while you were together. New friends knew you were seeing someone but not their name or how long you’d been together. Any curiosity surrounding why the Choi Seungcheol was following you on Insta had been waved away easily. Our parents are friends, we grew up together. Then you broke up, and there wasn’t any evidence to delete, and he wasn’t following you on Instagram anymore, and it was easier that way.
So, yeah—even though you hadn’t met her until years later, Kaori knows you have an ex. She knows you’ve had a few flings and situationships in the time since, too, and it’s why she’s none the wiser when you ask, “It’s nothing, really. Just—do you follow football at all?”
“Nah, not really. The new guy’s pretty into it and keeps trying to get me to watch the games with him, but it’s so fucking boring? I dunno, I can’t get into it. Not in real life, anyway—I binged all of Captain Tsubasa in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though. Why?”
“Student Services asked me to tutor someone the other day and I had to turn it down. I just don’t have the time, you know? This semester’s already killer, and Dr. Ahn’s been riding my ass nonstop about grades. Turns out it’s some football player, so Dr. Lee emailed me asking me to do it as a personal favor, which means, on top of all the other shit I have to do, I’m now tutoring some football player four hours a week in Microeconomics.”
Her face distorts. “God, that guy’s such a prick. Like wow, you’re good at the economy! Good for you! Who cares! Why don’t you go balance the national debt or something instead of torturing university freshmen!”
You also wrongly assume that’s the last you’ll hear of it from Kaori.
Two days later, after Student Services replies to your email with the days and times you’ll be tutoring Seungcheol, she materializes in the living room to harass you.
“You didn’t tell me your football player was Choi Seungcheol.”
The panic is instant. You know how she means it, but it’s not how your body interprets it. All of a sudden it feels like an interrogation, an accusation, and a whopping serving of guilt takes up residence in the middle of your chest for not being entirely honest.
“Explains this weird text Ken sent me.”
She slides her phone over to you, open to her text thread with her current flavor of the week. Beneath an article about Seungcheol enrolling in classes at your school:
doesn’t ur roomie TA there Why are you calling her “ur roomie” like you don’t know her name?? Rude. Also yes. ask her to get me an autograph No babe pls he was my fav player before he got injured No 🙄 fine. can i come over later? Starting to think you’re using me for my roommate. Get your own job 🙄
You hand her phone back. “I didn’t think you’d know who Choi Seungcheol even is.” It’s the best you can do, even though it just digs you a deeper grave. “You said you’re not into football.”
“I’m not, but unfortunately I am into that stupid man.” She sighs, wistful and longing. “Babe, you have to understand. His dick is so big.”
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You hadn’t wanted to stay in Seoul for your graduate degree, let alone the same university you’d gone to for undergrad.
You’d applied to schools all over—Japan, Europe, even a few in the States. Romanticized the hell out of NYU, went window shopping for an overpriced apartment, picked a favorite pizzeria based on nothing but vibes and online reviews. In those few months after graduation, there wasn’t a whole lot tying you to Seoul. Your and Seungcheol’s relationship had been old history by then, your parents split. Your dad stayed in your childhood home and your mother moved a few hours closer to her sister. They’d waited until your brother was old enough to be out of the house.
And it’d just been… a lot. Overwhelming. Some days you could barely shower or feed yourself, let alone move halfway across the world, so you’d stayed in the familiar and tried not to let it feel like failure.
But the good thing about familiarity is you learn its tricks, figure out the hiding spots. Early on, your first or second week of grad school, you laid claim to a study room on a floor of the library everyone else ignored. You write notes on the whiteboard with faded blue markers that are still there days later. The chair on the opposite side of the table is always exactly where you left it, the space between it and the table enough to only accommodate you. Sometimes you leave books—old paperbacks littered with notes in your writing—or papers, just to see if they move.
They never do.
And all of this is why it feels like a punch to the gut when that sanctity is tainted. When you’re halfway through a stack of Dr. Ahn’s exams and the doorknob rattles behind you. When you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is, because he still sounds the same, still has that overwhelming presence. You’ve always sensed him before you felt him.
“There you are,” Dr. Lee says, ambling into the room before you can protest. He, too, is overwhelming, just in different ways. Immaculate posture that anchors his slight frame that’s always dressed impeccably and expensively. Wears a watch that’s triple your tuition. Shoes polished so bright they’re nearly blinding. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
This time it is an accusation.
Well, you found me, you want to say, but just knowing Seungcheol is behind him, lingering in that half-study room, half-hallway space, is enough to keep you quiet. Like if you speak you’ll summon him closer and you’ll no longer be able to pretend this is nothing more than a nightmare.
You plaster on a polite smile. Say, “Ah, here I am, kyosu-nim,” and put all your energy into trying to glue Seungcheol to the floor with your mind.
Which is fruitless, because Dr. Lee moves further into the room. Gestures for Seungcheol to follow him with an impatient huff, and the study room is small, sure, and with three people it feels cramped, but that’s not the reason it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room.
Seungcheol looks… different. He looks as anxious as you feel, and he sticks close to the wall like he’s trying to disappear. Dr. Lee introduces him with grave importance, unaware of your history, and the forced smile he offers you almost looks embarrassed.
You know Dr. Lee is still hammering away, probably giving you a stern talking-to for rejecting his request the first time, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Seungcheol. Feels like the world around you has reduced to a pinhead, all hyperfocus; feels like your lungs are sucking in stale air one at a time.
“...his father is a very good friend of mine, so I expect…”
You expected to feel nothing. Seungcheol had left to chase his dream—one you’d always been so supportive of that it sometimes felt like your dream, too—and, perhaps naively, you thought the distance and the years would’ve been enough. You expected your heart to have hardened. You expected all those nights you spent crying to hit you at full force. You expected anger, hurt—indifference, at the very least.
“...as many hours per week as you both can manage…”
But you should’ve known better. Should’ve expected the butterflies, the way your palms grow clammy, the way your heart rate spikes. Should’ve expected everything to feel upside-down. You should’ve expected to look at Seungcheol and feel sixteen and in love all over again.
“...you are responsible for his academic progress…”
And that simply will not do. You’ve spent the last few years pulling yourself out of that hole, clawing your way back to something resembling normal. You’ve purged the thought of him from your mind—let his scent fade from your sheets, an old sweatshirt he’d left behind; forgot the way his lips felt against every inch of your skin; forgot the way his entire being lit up when he laughed; forgot the safety he encompassed, the way he whispered all those sweet nothings.
You cannot go there again.
So you roll your shoulders back, smile politely. Say, “Ah, kyosu-nim, Choi Seungcheol-ssi seems very intelligent, I’m sure he is capable of being responsible for his own academic standing, don’t you think?”
Dr. Lee cannot disagree without all but calling Seungcheol an idiot, so he hovers before you in shocked silence. Makes a show of huffing and checking his watch, like he’s all of a sudden remembered he’s late for something and being inconvenienced by this conversation he started, and then he’s halfway out of the library with a terse, “Discuss and figure this out amongst yourselves,” thrown over his shoulder.
You have an entire dramatic exit planned in your head. Gather your things, fake a phone call that makes you sound authoritative and important, and brush past Seungcheol wearing your nicest perfume as if all of this is so far beneath you you can’t even bring yourself to care about it.
Of course, you actually have to brush by him for any of that to happen, and since you’ve already decided you will not go there again, you quickly scribble your email address onto a piece of paper and slide it across the table at Seungcheol, who has steadfastly remained planted just outside the door. “Here’s my email. I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow. You start throwing things into your bag haphazardly. You know you look frantic and affected, but there’s not much you can do about that. “What? Send me a copy of your syllabus and what you want to prioritize. It’ll be easier to get through this if we have a plan instead of winging it.”
He seems to catch on to your distaste because he mirrors it. Scoffs as he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, no use spending more time together than we have to,” and if you hadn’t gone years without speaking, you would’ve seen right through it.
But you did, so it stings all the same.
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As it typically does, the planet keeps spinning after your run-in with Seungcheol.
You grade Dr. Ahn’s coursework. Try running off your anxiety at the gym, even though it’s pretty good at keeping pace with you these days. You meet Kaori’s maybe-boyfriend sneaking out of your apartment early in the morning and he has the good sense not to mention your ex, but you chalk that up to the mess of hickeys covering his neck and not any sense of social decorum.
Other people’s embarrassment saves you a ton of your own, you’ve come to learn.
Throughout all of this, Seungcheol only emails you once to send you his course syllabus. Doesn’t mention tutoring or provide you with his schedule or ask for yours, so when you’re sitting in a bar with your friends, three or four drinks deep and feeling a little petty, you forward him the original tutoring request and make sure to bold, underline, and highlight the “Recommended Tutoring: High” part for good measure.
He doesn’t take your bait—electronically, at least—but he does show up to your office hours the following Tuesday.
Bag tossed onto the floor, he flops unceremoniously into the chair across from you and says, in lieu of a greeting, “They spelled your name wrong. On the door thing.”
“I know,” you reply, your smile polite and terse. Incredible how he has the ability to raise your blood pressure in milliseconds. “What can I help you with?”
“Depends. How long do you have?”
“Well, considering you’ve shown up to my office hours on time, I’m assuming you already know I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. So”—you glance at the clock above the door—“assuming no one comes by who needs my help more than you do, you have approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment as he takes you in. His stare is weighted; it makes you feel a little green around the edges. Clinical and sharp, so far removed from the way he used to look at you. You clear your throat. “I looked over your syllabus. The good news is there’s only a midterm and a final and the rest is problem sets. The bad news is there’s only a midterm and a final so they’re weighted quite heavily. You really need to know this stuff inside-out to have any hope of passing.”
“That’s why you’re here, right? Dr. Lee specifically requested you.”
You huff a breath through your nose. “I’m here as supplemental help. I can’t take your exams or do your readings for you. What else are you taking this semester?”
He sighs, sinking further into the chair, very much playing the part of the heir who has no interest in any of this. Which… is unlike him, you think, if you’re even allowed to. The Seungcheol you knew years ago took everything so seriously. Never clipped corners or took shortcuts. Anyone else would think him a spoiled, petulant child. “Business Accounting and International Trade.”
“Could be worse,” you note. “At least those three courses are tangentially related.”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t taken a fucking math class in years.”
You return it. “You remember how to add and subtract, don’t you?”
“I ruptured my ACL, not my…” He trails off, looking a little embarrassed that he can’t name a part of the—“Brain.”
Whatever you were going to quip back with dies on your tongue. It's the first time Seungcheol has broached the topic of his injury—the first you’re hearing of it at all, actually—and he says it like it’s a joke, like it’s not a thing at all, but the pain is all over his face. The bitterness of the situation he’s found himself in. The unfairness of it all.
And there are so many questions you want to ask that aren’t your place: if it’s fixable, if he’ll ever play again, how he’s coping. But you don’t really need to—you can’t imagine how you’d feel if someone suddenly pulled the rug out from under you. If everything contained within the four walls of your office suddenly disappeared.
Not that the man sitting across from you hadn’t already done that, but.
“Right,” you continue, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You know Seungcheol—know he wouldn’t want you prodding, sticking your fingers in that particular wound. “I want you to take a look at this,” you say, handing over a printout you have saved from your undergrad tutoring days. “Tell me what looks familiar, what doesn’t; what does and doesn’t make sense.”
He looks down at the paper. Back up at you. Down at the paper again. “What the fuck is this?”
“I—what? Cheol, it’s my old notes on recitation. Surely you’ve already covered this—the syllabus says this is week one stuff.” He looks down at the paper again, and it’s so familiar, watching the life drain entirely from someone’s eyes.
You barely resist the urge to slam your face onto your desk a second time.
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You meet Seungcheol at the sports center for your next tutoring session.
He likes the humidity and the smell of the chlorine by the pool. He also likes that it’s not the football pitch, so the two of you sit in the bleachers there and go over his lecture notes. Much to your surprise, Seungcheol talks a mile a minute. Has stars in his eyes when he says he finally understands elastic demand curves, supply shock; tells you he spent a whole hour making flashcards.
It’s the first time you’ve seen him so excited since your tutoring began—the first glimmer of hope you’ve felt since Dr. Lee cornered you in your library hideaway. None of this surprises you. Seungcheol has always been smart, even when football was his primary (and sometimes only) focus. He has more determination and grit than anyone you’ve ever met, so you’re not surprised he’s doing well, excelling, but you are surprised—
“Can I ask you something?” Seungcheol shrugs, shoves half a protein bar in his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Why are you… uh. Here?”
“At this university?”
“Not exactly. I mean, I am wondering about that, but I guess… why business?”
Seungcheol hums. Tucks his good knee to his chest and stares down at the pool. No one’s using it, and truthfully the two of you probably aren’t even allowed to be here, but you understand why he likes it. It’s nowhere near as secluded as the library and definitely not as air conditioned, but it is peaceful. Calm. The water laps against the coping in quiet, small waves.
“Ah, I don’t know. You know how it goes.”
You quirk an eyebrow. Never, in all the years you’ve known him, has Seungcheol done anything he didn’t want to do. All that grit and determination. “What about your father, then? Dr. Lee mentioned this was a favor to him. He’s a pretty important person to have in your Rolodex of favors.”
Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what this is: Seungcheol’s father has new money; worked from the bottom up, made some smart investment decisions that finally panned out after Seungcheol left for Seoul. Started doing his own thing, made a name for himself. Last you’d heard from your mother, Seungcheol’s brother was second-in-command. Hell, even your own brother did an internship there.
So you know what this is: a father helping his son after his dream was shattered, life turned upside-down. You can’t blame him, even if you’ve heard the whispers from all the way across campus. That Seungcheol is washed up now, trying to nepo his way into his father’s company because of it; that all he knows is sports and he should’ve stuck to that, what does he know about business, why is he the one Dr. Lee went out of his way to help.
Doesn’t stop any of them from smiling at him, though; doesn’t stop them from asking for autographs or selfies.
But you also know this isn’t something Seungcheol seems willing to discuss, so you crack a joke—“I mean, business. God, who’d wanna go into that?”—and go back to what he was willing to talk about.
You’ve never hated elastic demand curves so much in your life.
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Deep in the throes of tutoring—when you can’t tell if it’s week two or week twelve—you make it back to your apartment just before ten, head pounding.
The door flies open just as you’re about to punch in the code, and there stands Ken, looking far more put-off than you’ve ever seen him. Looks defeated, if you’re being honest, like someone mopped up all his emotions and wrung them out like dirty dishwater.
“Oh, hi,” you say hesitantly. The man in front of you seems too much like a caged animal to let your guard down. “Everything okay?”
He aborts a nod halfway. Mutters an apology as he brushes by you and stalks down the hall, disappearing around the corner to the elevators. Usually he’s a talker—you haven’t been able to avoid a Seungcheol-related conversation in weeks—so you’re a little stunned. Stand there stupidly for a while, and that’s where Kaori finds you a moment later.
“You gonna stand out here all night, or…?”
“Oh—yeah, right.”
You follow her inside. Toe off your shoes and put them in the rack. Focus on the sound of the kettle whistling instead of the overbearing tension in the room. Drop your bag off in your room, throw on a sweatshirt three sizes too big and a comfy pair of socks. Rummage through the fridge for leftovers, contemplate what mindless show you’ll watch as you eat, and you do not, under any circumstances, ask Kaori what happened.
You don’t have to. You knew what this was going to be the first time Ken spent the night—the way he looked mortified to be meeting you in the shared kitchen at seven a.m., wearing a look that begged you not to tell your roommate he was sneaking out.
I, uh, have an early class, he’d said. You know how it is.
Maybe you should’ve called him on it then. Issued a warning-but-not-really. She’ll get attached if you don’t tell her. She should know it’s different for you, if it is.
But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t your place. Kaori wouldn’t want you in her business like that, so you stayed quiet, just nodded before watching him slip his shoes on and close the door behind him so quietly you wouldn’t have known he left at all if you hadn’t been looking. Gone, just like a ghost.
So, yeah, you know exactly why your roommate looks haunted.
“I’m a few episodes behind on this if you want to watch with me,” you offer, pointing at the television with the remote. It’s a lie—you’ve never watched this show a day in your life, which Kaori seems to know—but she contemplates it nonetheless. “Also, my mom mailed us some cookies. I think they’re in the fridge.”
“Why are there cookies in the fridge?”
You huff a laugh. “They were outside the door this morning before I left for campus. I don’t know—just saw who the package was from and was like, oh, this must go in the fridge.”
She nods. Grabs the container and joins you on the couch. Sticks her feet beneath your butt and doesn’t mention a thing.
The closest she comes is a few days later. Catches you right before you head out to campus and asks how tutoring is going.
“Not bad, actually.”
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she says, “That’s good. I’m glad things are going well for you two.”
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Lee Chan, Sophomore makes his unexpected return at your office hours on an unsuspecting Tuesday.
“Can I help you?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just helps himself to the seat across from you. “Maybe,” comes his cryptic retort. “I was thinking about signing up for that crypto course next semester.”
You narrow your eyes. “No, you weren’t.”
He sighs. Looks a little panicked, like he can’t believe that didn’t work. “You’re right, you’re right. I, um—I wanted to come say thank you.” He pauses. “You know, for that… email you sent.”
You blink. “No, you didn’t.”
Lee Chan, Sophomore cracks immediately. Thunks his head on your desk and lets loose a pained sound. It nearly sounds like he’s wailing when he says, “I’m sorry! They put me up to it!”
What you’re able to piece together is this: Lee Chan, Sophomore has become a bit of a celebrity in the Student Services department ever since he met you, Choi Seungcheol’s tutor. And, like any smart, previously unpopular university student would do, he took advantage of it. Might’ve stretched the truth a little to make it sound like he knew more than he did, so now here he is, angling for information the girls with the photocards may or may not have paid him to get.
“They want to know about his girlfriend.”
“His what?”
What you’re able to piece together is also this: the Photocard Girls are certain Seungcheol is dating someone, based on little more than vibes. You suspect these vibes are their three degrees of separation, considering there was an abnormal amount of Change of Major files formed after his enrollment, but you tell Lee Chan that you don’t know anything and, even if you did, you wouldn’t put his business out there like that.
But some part of you still has this inexplicable urge to protect Seungcheol, so you match their offer with interest and tell him to say there’s nothing to report—not that you didn’t know, not that he couldn’t get anything out of you. Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone.
You don’t know if it’s true, but you figure that if it isn’t, he still deserves privacy.
Which is a notion you have trouble explaining a few hours later, when Seungcheol strolls into your office with a grease-stained paper bag full of cheese coin bread, offering one to you with a proud smile that drops slowly when you just stare in return.
“What’s wrong?”
Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Nothing comes out, even though it should be simple. Some sophomore kid was just in here angling for information or the Student Services department is taking bets on whether or not you have a girlfriend would both suffice, but you cannot bring yourself to say the words.
What you settle on is, “Sorry, I just… had an interesting meeting before you got here.”
“Oh. Are you okay?”
You sigh. Tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It was about you, actually.”
Seungcheol chokes, starts stuttering over words you can’t make sense of. Says, “Me? Why? I passed my last exam—I mean, barely, but I still passed. And that wasn’t your fault! I didn’t study enough! I’ve been losing my mind over my International Trade class, that shit sucks—”
“It wasn’t about your grades, Cheol.”
“Oh.” Then, slowly, a lopsided, pleased smile overtakes his face. “Haven’t heard you call me Cheol in a while.”
“Seungcheol,” you correct.
He seems to forget all about the meeting. Tries again to offer you a coin bread before he threatens to eat them all himself, so you acquiesce mostly to shut him up, say you’ll bring the extras to Kaori. For some reason, you tell him about how much she’d loved the cookies your mom sent, and the nostalgia sets him off, gets him talking again, asking if they were the yakgwa she used to make when you two were kids.
They were, but you can’t seem to tell him that, either.
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Seungcheol: sorry it’s last minute - running late. can you meet me at my place instead?
Seungcheol shared a location with you
You’re halfway to replying—I don’t think that’s appropriate—before you sigh and delete it. Midterms are only a few days away and you don’t have time to argue over where your tutoring sessions will be, so if Seungcheol wants to meet at his apartment that’s where you’ll meet him.
You read over the midterm notes on the train. Once, twice, and then a hundred more times until they’re nearly memorized, all so you can ignore the voice in the back of your head saying what a bad idea this is. That you have no business being on your way to your ex’s swanky part of town or integrating yourself into his life beyond tutoring at all. You shouldn’t know where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t even have his phone number or answer his texts.
Not that there’s much you can do about it now, two stops away.
Seungcheol greets you warmly, if not a little rushed. Apologizes for the mess once you step inside, although it’s less “mess” and more “haven’t finished unpacking,” but there’s enough clear space to study at the dining table, so that’s where you set up, determined to keep things professional.
“Sorry again about this,” Seungcheol says, placing a can of cola in front of you as he takes the seat across. “I had to meet with my father and lost track of time, I guess.”
“Oh. How’s he doing?”
Seungcheol sighs, leans further back in the chair as runs a hand through his hair. A light brown, now. “Same as he always was, I guess. Talked about the business, about my brother. Can’t get him to shut up about that stuff most of the time.”
“The business is doing good, though.” You cough, clear your throat. “My, uh. My brother interned there during undergrad. I don’t know if your father told you that.”
You don’t know why you say it, because it’s clear from the brief flicker of pain on Seungcheol’s face that he hadn’t known, that no one had told him. And it hurts you too that they felt the need to keep it a secret, to protect Seungcheol from you even in tangential ways.
“He didn’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure he was happy to see him. He was, uh—he was glad to hear you’re my tutor. Said you were always smarter than all of us boys combined.”
You laugh. Hope it sounds casual instead of strained. “Well, no need to prove him right. Come on,” you say, tossing a study guide in his direction, “let’s get to work.”
Everything is alright for a while—nearly an hour at least. He has the formulas memorized and attributed to the correct equations. He can explain supply and demand, preference and utility, but things start to fall apart around budget constraints and constrained choice.
The formulas get mixed up. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t know the answers to your questions right away. Rolls his eyes and gets a little snappy when you correct him, try to explain things differently in a way he understands. At first he’s able to temper it, collect himself before things truly start spiraling out of control, but the longer the two of you sit there the more it all unravels.
He snaps, you snap back, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve survived this long in Seungcheol’s orbit even though you never thought you’d be around him again, and perhaps it was bound to explode eventually, but…
It’s the familiarity, you realize.
You and Seungcheol aren’t friends, though you’ve been playing at it for weeks now: meeting outside of the library or your office, the personal conversations bordering on reminiscing, being in his personal space. You don’t belong here. You don’t want to be his friend—you can’t be, not for real or pretend.
“That’s not what I’m say—”
“Then explain it better,” Seungcheol fires at you, eyebrows creasing. “You’re the tutor here.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? All I meant was—your answer isn’t wrong, but I know Dr. Lee and he’s going to want more than that in a response.”
“Right—not good enough, like I said.”
“I’m just asking you to expand on your answer—”
“And I’m telling you that’s all I’ve got. I’m not like you, all right? I don’t have all this shit just floating around in my head all the time. I’m not smart, I barely have any idea what’s going on half the time, and you sitting here being condescending about it is doing fuck-all to help.”
You inhale sharply, taken aback at the hostility in his voice. Suggest calling it for the night, say neither of you will be productive if you keep going like this, and neither of you bother to apologize.
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So much of your relationship with Seungcheol was marred by clichés.
The two of you passing notes back and forth during class. You in the bleachers of all his games, screaming along to the team chants, waving a sign around with his name on it. Not realizing you had a crush on him at all until he liked someone else and it made your stomach hurt. Childhood friends turned lovers.
Another cliché: that it’s starting to feel like that all over again.
Seungcheol sits across from you in the library, econ textbook cracked in half in front of him as he pays no attention. Keeps grabbing his phone each time it vibrates across the table. Can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto his face when he reads whatever’s there.
Stupid, you think—both to do this and to think it’d play out any other way. Seungcheol left years ago. Probably lived ten lifetimes while he was away while you were here in this exact spot doing this exact thing. Barely lived half a life, just stuck your nose in textbooks and forced your way through.
“Cheol,” you say, trying to drag his attention back to the study guide. No use. He’s typing away, presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek as he responds. “Seungcheol,” you try again.
Also fruitless.
You have no claim here, you remind yourself—not to his time, not to him. He’s only here because someone else mandated it. You’re only here because someone else mandated it, but it stings all the same. Another reminder of what used to be, of what ended regardless of what you wanted. Another reminder that the role you used to play in his life is not the role you play now. That the space you used to take up created a vacancy, and eventually it was going to be filled.
And if this was anyone other than Seungcheol, if you were more emotionally evolved when it came to him, it wouldn’t gnaw at you as much. All of this would roll off your shoulders.
But it isn’t, and you’re not.
“If you’re not going to listen, then—”
“I am listening,” he interjects, but he’s not looking at you. Not looking at his textbook or his study guide. Keeps laughing and smiling at his phone, and it’s sick how bothered you are by it. That it feels like your stomach’s been turned inside-out with jealousy; with annoyance, because you don’t want to be here anyway, don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re wasting your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.
Perhaps he never did.
“What are we discussing, then?”
Still not looking up: “Consumer theory.”
You laugh—more a huff of air than anything, grin sardonically out of one corner of your mouth. Seungcheol sees none of it. “Wrong,” you answer, already expecting the way he shrugs it off. “I’m gonna skip ahead a few chapters, though. Consider it a freebie for your business class.”
It must be your tone that finally grabs his attention. Cutting, precise, purposeful. Seungcheol lowers his phone, quirks an eyebrow, wonders where this is going to go. It’s clear he’s pissed you off, that you’re itching for a fight. It’s clear the years of silence are finally coming to a head.
“Let’s talk about ROI. You know what that is?” You barely give him a second. “Return on investment. A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or compare the efficiency of several investments. So, let’s say I make one-hundred-thousand won on a ten-thousand won investment: my ROI is 90%. Are you following?”
He nods.
“Great, now let’s try something a bit more hypothetical.” You suck in a breath. “Let’s say I invest years of my adolescence into someone. A friend at first and then something more. Let’s say I played cheerleader, supported every hope and dream he had—went to every game, cheered him on, helped him practice his English. Held his hand and talked him down when the pressure felt overwhelming, when the only thing that felt inevitable was failure. Now, let’s say all I got in return was a stuttered, awkward apology as he dumped me and walked out the door. Let’s say that guy showed up again after years of silence just to once again waste my fucking time.”
The thing about pain is it’s not linear. What hurt five, ten years ago might not hurt today, but it might tomorrow; what hurt yesterday may never hurt again. The thing about pain is it lets you stick your head in the sand until it can’t anymore, and that’s where you are now: that window of time between Seungcheol walking out the door on the assumption you’d never see him again before he bulldozed his way back into your life has been slammed closed, locked up tight.
So you don’t even notice you’re crying until the room goes deathly silent and you can hear the drip drip drip of tears on paper. Until you watch Seungcheol’s hands flex and unflex in mid-air, stuck in that liminal space, wanting to reach out but knowing he has no right to. Until your chest aches so bad you’re sure you’re either about to break into stardust or cease to exist.
Until you say, “What, Choi Seungcheol, would you say my fucking return on investment was?” and he has nothing to say at all.
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Kaori invites you to a party.
Just something small to celebrate the end of midterms and a classmate’s birthday. Nothing out of control or raucous, not even the kind of thing that’d earn a second glance from campus security. I won’t even make fun of you if you leave before eleven, is how she sold it to you, in addition to a small amount of begging and bargaining and a powerful set of puppy-dog eyes.
After everything the two of you have been through, you find it hard to say no.
So here you are, nearly eleven o’clock on a Friday, a cup of cheap beer in hand. A friend of a friend of a friend is wailing into a karaoke machine and although your ears are bleeding, it does feel nice for that to be your greatest worry. You aren’t thinking about your classes or how you’ve been prioritizing everyone else’s academic success. You aren’t thinking about whatever’s going on between Kaori and Ken. You aren’t thinking about Seungcheol.
At least you aren’t, until he walks through the door.
You’re going to continue not thinking about him at all—not about the fact he’s alone or how good he looks in a simple black T-shirt that’s a little taut in the shoulders. You’re not going to think about the way the air shifts, like the universe knows he’s important and is willing to accommodate. You’re not going to think about how Kaori catches your eye across the room, recognizes him from all her internet searches, and the way she mouths oh my god he’s so beefy at you.
You’re not going to think about how guilty you feel that she doesn’t know, because if you do you’re certain it’ll take over.
You watch Seungcheol work the room; watch as he floats between conversations, as strangers fall over themselves at the sight of him. How eager everyone is to give him something and how reluctant he is to take them. You watch as he winds up in the same circle as Kaori and how she must mention you, oh, your tutor is my roommate, because there’s a question in return before he turns and meets your gaze.
You wonder why the distance between you feels more insurmountable now than ever before.
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Seungcheol finds you in your office.
It’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday, far later than four to six in the evening, but he doesn’t even bother knocking before he’s barreling in, stifling your space with his bad energy.
You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Not since the party, if that even counts. Hasn’t bothered to reply to any of your texts or emails, and that was just fine by you, if that’s how he wanted to act, but it isn’t until he’s brooding on the other side of your desk that you realize you’re still aggrieved, too. Feels a little too familiar, him leaving you behind and in the dark.
So you don’t mean to—typically have much more professionalism than this—but when he tosses a stapled stack of papers with a barely-passing grade on your desk and says, “This is your fault,” the words come automatically and without forethought.
“Fuck off, Seungcheol.” It’s not your words that take him by surprise; more so the roll of your eyes, the accompanying huff. The impression that all of this is beneath you and nothing more than a mere annoyance. That however affected you were two weeks ago is not how affected you are anymore. “That’s what happens when you blow off your tutoring for two weeks because you’re a coward.”
He laughs, incredulous; unable to help the sound the tumbles out of his mouth. “I’m a—I’m a coward?”
“Yes,” you reply, tone giving away nothing. All he sees is feigned nonchalance despite the hurricane you feel brewing beneath the surface. “This,” you continue, pinching the corner of the paper between your fingertips and disposing of it in the trashcan beneath your desk, “is all on you, but do please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to blame me for. I’m all ears.”
You don’t miss it: the way Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at your ‘I’m all.’ The way he thinks you’re going to punctuate that sentence with yours, and it nearly has bile rising in your throat. Makes you want to scream, rip at your hair. If the last few months have taught you anything, it’s that you are still hopelessly in love with the man across from you—the man that continues to leave before he’s left, always at your expense.
So, yeah—Seungcheol is a coward, but only when it comes to you.
But he doesn’t look much like one now, gripping so hard at the edge of your desk that his knuckles have gone white, baseball cap pulled down low enough his eyes are barely visible. He’s always been overwhelming, always carried himself with an exaggerated arrogance even when it wasn’t warranted, always took everything so seriously, and maybe that’s why you’d thought he’d treat you the same way. Take you seriously. Wouldn’t just throw it all away on a maybe thing, and that’s why it's been years and you still aren’t over it.
Maybe Seungcheol is a coward, and maybe so are you.
Because not once since he’s been back have you been able to say what you mean. Can’t seem to tell him about the anger, the hurt, the heartbreak. Played it all off as petty nonchalance because you foolishly thought that would hurt him, that you’ve been reduced to simmering ash, no hope left for a fire.
“I could never blame you for a goddamn thing,” he says, voice so deep you could drown in it.
You so desperately want to know. You don’t want to know anything at all. You want Seungcheol to explain everything to you in detail and spoil the ending, but only if it’s guaranteed to be happy. Enduring another loss like the first time—you’re not sure you can take it. Not after you two have crossed paths like this, because you’ve never quite believed in fate but you think that has to mean something. That so much time and life had transpired and you two came back together.
Today, though, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any answers.
Seungcheol straightens, looms at full height. Digs into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a thumb drive. Wordlessly, he hands it over, and then he’s gone just as abruptly as he’d arrived.
Again.
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Kaori wants to spend the weekend moping, and you can’t come up with a good reason not to join her.
She doesn’t mention Ken once. Not when she’s sobbing over A Silent Voice and Toradora! after that. Not when she keeps glancing at her phone every couple minutes to see if she has any texts. Not when you—only halfway paying attention between grading and your own assignments—suggest ordering something for delivery, maybe that new burger place down the street you heard was good, and Kaori shuts it down so vehemently you can only assume it was Ken’s favorite place.
Kaori just cries over the man with the big dick she never expected to take so seriously, and not even your stonewalling makes her feel ashamed of it.
And there’s respectability in that kind of openness and vulnerability. At least whatever she’s feeling is honest; at least she can admit she’s sad. You think watching Kaori process her breakup might help you process yours too, years too late, so you suck in a breath and ask, “Can I tell you something or is now not a good time?”
Kaori looks over at you. Dabs a soggy tissue at her eyes. “Well, I guess it depends,” is her answer, and she doesn’t shy away from how waterlogged her voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me you’re a Takasu and Kawashima shipper, maybe, but if it’s anything worse I’m not sure I could take it.”
“I—what? Who even are they?” She gives you a half-hearted thumbs up. You sigh in response, sink further into the couch. “It’s, uh.” Clear your throat. “Do you remember when we met sophomore year? At that party? And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything and you said, and I quote, why not, I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing and I know that guy will have a huge—”
She hides her face behind her hands. “Ew, god, yes I remember that. My dick whisperer era. How embarrassing.”
“Right. And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything because I’d just gotten out of something.”
“Not really by choice, if I remember correctly. I told you if it was quiet it should’ve been loud, and then you never talked about it again.”
You nod. “I—yeah, that sounds like something I would’ve said.” You suck in a deep breath. “Listen, this is probably gonna sound bad considering I did never talk about it again, but—”
“Hey,” Kaori says, nudging you with her foot. Meant to be comforting, somehow. “It’s okay. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, too… most of which I’m not sure you should, actually.”
A laugh forces its way out, gives you a nice reprieve from the anxiety of the conversation you’re about to have. The need to explain it all, the need for advice. Maybe it’s not her—or anyone else’s—business, but you think you’ve kept this to yourself long enough. You and Seungcheol loved each other, once, and it seems foolish that no one knows.
Maybe Kaori had been right. Maybe love should be shouted from the rooftops; exist out in the open. Maybe something hidden in the shadows can never thrive in the light, and you knew it back then, deep down, but now it seems so obvious.
You think back to a few days before the library. Think about how things didn’t feel good but they felt okay. Think about the frustrated crease between Seungcheol’s eyebrows as he stared down at his textbook and how all you’d wanted to do was smooth it. Think about how you’d rolled your lips and tried not to laugh; how you thought it’d take a miracle to help Seungcheol pass this class.
Think about: What is the difference between the short-run and the long-run from the perspective of production theory?
Think about the short-run of your and Seungcheol’s relationship—that you’d burned bright and fast, even though it’d felt like a million years. Hadn’t dared to consider the long-run because anything beyond that bubble felt impossible.
Think about: Which of the following is not a property of isoquants?
Think about the way Seungcheol’s eyes lit up when he knew the answer. That they’re always linear, he said, and you smiled at his enthusiasm, raised your hand to high-five him and dropped it when he hadn’t noticed.
You think about the explanation—isoquants can be linear when inputs are perfectly substitutable—and what those graphs look like. Downward sloping, left to right. Think about how the graphs change when the isoquants are perfect complements.
L-shaped. Less straight as the inputs become poorer substitutes.
You know what your and Seungcheol’s graph would’ve looked like back then.
So it’s easy, almost, to tell Kaori everything. You tell her about growing up in Daegu, about the smell of the azaleas at Biseulsan in the spring. You tell her about how your parents had befriended the neighbors, how they had a kid your age, that that kid was Seungcheol—yes, that Seungcheol.
She’s able to anticipate the rest from there, but you fill in the blanks of what she can’t: being sixteen and falling in love, holding hands, the clandestine notes. All those football matches and how your throat would be hoarse from cheering. How nauseous you’d felt applying to university in Seoul, how excited you were when Seungcheol said he was coming with you. That, after you arrived, it felt like you were living in fast-forward. Barely any time to breathe or adjust; no time to just be you and Seungcheol. You had to be a student, someone responsible; Seungcheol had to be a phenom.
“Could you feel it was going to happen?” Kaori asks, now sat ramrod straight, all her attention on you. “Like, did you know?”
“I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe I did? It’s hard to say now, all this time later. I know things definitely felt different, like life was pulling us in opposite directions.” You laugh, bitterness coloring the edges. “You couldn’t go two blocks without seeing him on some billboard, and I was just… normal, you know? I wasn’t some rising star athlete like he was, I just went to my classes. How was I supposed to compete with something like that?”
Your roommate hums, leans back into the pillows as she stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t think you were. Maybe that’s why Seungcheol was worried—maybe he felt like you were losing your own identity feeling like you had to keep up.”
You want to push back, argue that you weren’t, that you didn’t, but the truth is that it’s possible. That the shadows created by Seungcheol’s dreams were so massive you wouldn’t be surprised if they unintentionally swallowed you up. “It still wasn’t his choice to make,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.
And Kaori already knows all about your hurt, listened as you explained it all and laid everything bare. So when she says, “Sometimes that’s just how it goes, though, babe,” it doesn’t feel condescending. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time. You can say now it wasn’t Seungcheol’s choice to make, because it’s been almost five years and you’ve made a life for yourself separate from him. But the—god, this is gonna sound so patronizing, I am so sorry—but you guys were so young. No one has it all figured out at that age.”
She snorts, runs a hand through her messy hair. “Shit, I’m nearly halfway to thirty and I still don’t know anything.” Adopts a frown. “What do you want now? Do you want closure? Want to try to fix things and become friends?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, biting at a hangnail. “He actually, um. The other day when he stopped by my office, he left me a USB drive? And before you ask, no I did not already look at it.”
“A USB drive? Who does this guy think he is, James Bond?” A pause. “Are you gonna look at it, though?”
You do.
Not until the silver, midnight light creeps in through your bedroom curtains and you’ve stared at the ceiling long enough; waited long enough for texts that never came, for divine intervention to, well, intervene. It never did—fair enough—so you decide to take fate by the reins. Grab your laptop, instant headache from the screen, stick the drive into the port.
It takes a second for it to load, but when it does: dozens of videos, organized by date. Vlogs, by the look of them—some from before your breakup but the majority of them from after.
You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.
You click on the first one: a month and a half before both of you moved to Seoul. A fresh-faced Seungcheol appears on your screen, cheeks still round with adolescence. He’s in his room back in Daegu, can’t get the camera angle right. Nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as it pans to the side, to the wall behind his bed, and you see all his old posters. Mostly football players you couldn’t name, some girl group he used to love, a few movies. Just below them are some of the notes you’d written him in school, and they’re all you can focus on as he talks about how excited he is for the move.
The next: a few weeks after you’d started classes. By then, Seungcheol was well into the swing of things with Seoul FC. Already a big fish in a small pond, tryout offers from European teams starting to roll in. You can hear yourself in the background stressing over your first exam, wishing a generational curse upon your calculus professor. In the video, Seungcheol laughs, whispers like he’s telling the camera a secret as he talks about how nervous he is for his future. I don’t know why, he says, but it just feels like everything is about to change.
There’s a long pause between that one and the next. You understand why when you look at the date: three months after your breakup. Your hands hover uselessly above your keyboard. Whatever answers you’ve been looking for the last few years are probably in this video, but you can’t bring yourself to open it. Not right away, at least.
You click on a different one at random. Seungcheol’s somewhere in Europe, judging from the language on the signs behind him. Snow falls quietly—whenever he filmed this, it must’ve been early. No one else is around, and he cracks a joke that it’s a good thing, people would probably think he was crazy if they saw him. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going but he narrates the entire walk: points out a cafe he’s grown to love. The way to get to his practice stadium from where he’s standing. Pauses near a restaurant and laughs ruefully, shakes his head, says, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but one of my teammates set me up on a blind date here and I got stood up. You’d probably think that was funny.
(You do. It also makes your chest ache.)
One from two years ago: Seungcheol in a hotel room, clearly nervous. He raises his hand to wave at the camera and you can see the corners of his nails bitten raw. Dark circles beneath his eyes; cheekbones more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them. On the screen, Seungcheol sighs, rakes a hand through freshly-bleached hair. Sucks in a deep breath as he says, I’m so nervous. I’m so—so fucking nervous and I don’t. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. I want to call you because you always knew what to say but that’s so fucking selfish. God, we haven’t spoken in years, and it’s my—that’s my fault, I know, so I brought this all on myself. I just want to hear your voice.
Another from a week after that: the color’s returned to his face, and he’s recording from what looks like a penthouse apartment. Sleek, modern; a small white dog napping on the bed beside him. He smiles, looks like he got his teeth fixed, looks like he’s no longer carrying around the weight of the world. Talks endlessly and excitedly about some tournament. Talks so fast you can barely keep up. Talks around words tinged with languages you don’t understand.
Seungcheol wins a championship. Records a drunk vlog from the same night, hair soaked through with god-knows-what—water, champagne, you don’t know. But he looks radiant. Looks like the culmination of two decades of dreaming. He looks happy, free, at peace. He looks like the reason he let you go, why he had to go away.
You scroll to the bottom of the files. Pause at the last video, dated seven months before the term started.
“Hi,” he says, and you can immediately tell everything is all wrong. Seungcheol’s in the dark, face only visible enough to see the tears tracking on his cheeks. “This is going to be the last one of these I make. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you aren’t paying attention to me—my career—anymore, but. I, um. I got hurt. Ruptured my ACL. They’re not sure I’ll…” A sob escapes him. Has you wanting to climb through the screen to hold him, thumb away his tears, tell him everything is going to be okay. “They don’t know if I’ll ever play again.”
Seungcheol no longer looks happy, free, at peace. “Maybe you’ll be happy to hear that,” he continues. “Maybe it’ll help you to know I threw away our relationship for nothing.”
Cut to black.
The sudden silence is deafening. Has you desperately clicking back to the video you’d skipped, the one from just after your breakup. Seungcheol looks the same in that one, too, like the life has been drained out of him.
I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I’ll ever show these to you now, since I…
I’m sure I owe you an explanation. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just—things have been so hard, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my life went from zero to a hundred before I could even blink and now I’m scrambling. I didn’t think it was fair to—to drag you through that. Me being away, moving to an entirely different continent. I have faith we could do it, I just. I don’t know, baby, I don’t…
You deserve to have your own life. Be your own person. I’m so scared that the world will never see you for who you are—so beautiful and intelligent and kind. You don’t deserve to be reduced to my partner. And if you ever see this, I know you’re gonna roll your eyes. Probably call me a mean name because I took the choice away from you, because you think I’m trying to be selfless and heroic, and you’d be right. It’s not fair, and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry.
I wish I could just… pluck out my brain and give it to you, because even if it killed me to do it, at least it makes sense to me. And I don’t—I don’t want you to think I’m not hurting. I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left. I know I’m making a mistake, I know I am, I just—how do I do what I think is right in the long-run when it’s not what I want right now, or ever?
I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want you to get over me, and that’s how you know I’m not acting selflessly, because you should. I want you to always be happy, I just… wish it was with me.
So, I’m going to keep making these. I’m going to take you along for the ride, wherever it takes us, because you should be here but I can only hope you can one day understand why you’re not. I’m so—I’m so sorry, I don’t…
I’m sorry.
I love you.
You fall asleep and dream that you were the one meant to meet him at that restaurant.
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The first thing you do is make a call to your mother.
“Could you send another container of yakgwa?”
On the other end of the line, your mother tuts, motherly intuition audibly kicking into overdrive. Is probably wearing that all-knowing, sly grin she always does when you try to be coy and evasive. “What happened to the last container I sent?”
“Ah, you know Kaori loves those. They barely lasted an hour after I told her what was in there.”
She hums an acknowledgement. Sounds like she takes a sip of tea. “I remember someone else being quite fond of those cookies, too.”
“Well, they are the most popular cookies in the country, so.”
After haranguing you into admitting they’re for Seungcheol and not your roommate, your mother promises to send them quickly. A few days at most, which buys you enough time to figure out how you’re going to approach the man in question.
The vlogs have turned your entire world upside-down. Answered questions you hadn’t even known you had. Took all that anger and resentment you’d been holding onto and set it free, and now you’re just left with… a void. Want to mend things, and it makes you wonder if such a thing is even possible, if it’s too late, but you don’t let those thoughts get very far.
Instead, you let them spur you into action. Have you sitting in front of your laptop at your desk, office hours long since over, silence creeping in the more the department empties. The thrum of the airconditioning and the tick-tick-tick of the clock are all the only company you have.
You worry if it’ll show on camera, how out of sorts you feel: sweating from the nerves, dabbing at your hairline; cheeks warm to the touch. But you suck in a breath anyway, steel yourself. Look at your webcam and the daunting red circle…
And start recording.
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He hadn’t gotten it at first. Not really.
There’d been a container of yakgwa outside his door with his USB drive taped to the top of it. No note—not that he needed one to know who it was from, but he wasn’t sure what it was. A goodbye? A please fuck off forever and never contact me again?
He’d just taken them inside. Ate too many of the cookies while feeling sorry for himself. Maybe had a glass or two of wine to compound the issue, and never, ever considered contacting you. Didn’t think he could bear it if you never wanted to see him again, but he just…
Well, he was drunk and alone and he missed you, and he’d rewatched all those videos he recorded a million times before when he was like this, so what was a million and one?
It’d been the same as every time before: he smiled at the happy parts, cried at all his old wounds. Wanted to reach through the screen and strangle his past self for including that part about the blind date, because he never wanted to date anyone who wasn’t you, why would he say that, felt mortified at the thought of you watching that—
And then there it was.
All the way at the bottom. A new video. One that hadn’t been recorded by him—
Hi, Cheol, you say, and that’s all it takes to reduce him to a sobbing, yearning mess. I’m not sure what to say here. I don’t really record much—sometimes for lectures when the professors are too busy, but never anything personal like this, but I watched every single one you made for me and I thought I should return the favor.
I wanted to tell you everything I’ve been up to since you left, but it hasn’t been much. I got my degree. Tutored a lot in undergrad—the same thing I’m tutoring you in now, actually. I was good at it and it felt good to have something that was mine, you know? I almost moved for grad school. Thought for a while I was going to wind up in New York, but then my parents divorced and it felt like too much, too scary, so I stayed. Kaori also stayed, so we got an apartment together. It’s not much, definitely not as nice as your place, but it’s good enough.
I don’t think I ever told you, but she was seeing a guy for a bit and he was… obsessed with you, to say the least. Thought you were the coolest person in the world. They aren’t seeing each other anymore. Ended pretty badly, but—speaking of which, maybe steer clear of Student Services for a while, too.
Sometimes it felt like failure that I wound up staying here. That I had scholarships from all these far-away, prestigious places and didn’t take advantage of them. That I gave into my fear. And now… I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason I stayed behind. Maybe there’s a reason you ended up back here, too.
Whatever happens—I don’t want you to think I still blame you. Kaori says we do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time, and I understand now that’s what you did. Even though it hurt me, you were trying to protect me. I get it now. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to go to all these places you didn’t know. To have to deal with your injury, the loss of a dream.
You said in one of your videos that you just want me to be happy, and that’s all I want for you, too, whatever that looks like.
Here’s my address if you ever want to come by to talk.
I love you, too.
—and then he’d been up and out the door, feeling stone cold sober, running to the front of his building to wait for his ride.
Felt like the drive took hours. Must’ve hit every red light between his apartment and yours. Took the steps two at a time just to get to your door faster.
There’s a man already standing outside your door when he gets there. One that looks shocked to see him, stars in his eyes, and when Seungcheol says, “Oh, you must be Kaori’s ex,” he looks more like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Embarrassed in front of his idol.
He knocks on your door and gets no response. Knocks again, harder this time, and he has to try really hard to stifle his laughter when your voice yells from the inside, “Fuck off, Kenji, I already told you she’s not here!”
“It’s me,” Seungcheol yells back.
There’s quiet again. Just enough time for it to feel like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and follow Kaori’s ex down the hall.
Then you’re yanking the door open—slowly, so slowly, like you’re scared it’s not actually him. Your eyes are brimming with tears when they meet his own, and he doesn’t let himself think, just goes on instinct, when he grabs for you, hands on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours.
Somehow you taste the same.
Somehow you taste like redemption.
You taste like home.
Seungcheol kisses you until the tears slow. Kisses you until the universe realigns, until he could map your mouth in the dark. Kisses you until all you’re all he knows again.
When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his sweatshirt, don’t want to let him go. He presses his forehead to yours, offers up a million more apologies, starts talking nonsense. Says he’s going to drop microeconomics, what the hell does he know, he barely has a passing grade anyway, what does it matter, he’s such an idiot—
And then you say, “You came back,” and nothing else matters.
“I always will.”
(Later on, as you’re trying to steady your breathing, slick with sweat, your thigh thrown over Seungcheol’s hip as he stares down at you, dopey smile on his face, you say, “Choi Seungcheol, don’t you dare drop that class. I have worked my ass off to get you to barely-passing.”)
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if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! i am still very new at writing for seventeen, so i hope this was acceptable. i'm now going to throw myself into the warped tour vernon fic and will hopefully not go another 7+ months without posting anything. 😭
i would love to hear your thoughts! <3
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junkissed · 7 months ago
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ocean view
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member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!
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they say time flies when you’re having fun.
it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.
but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.
what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.
the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.
you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.
“next round is on me!”
all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.
you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.
you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.
the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.
it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.
it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.
your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”
“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain. 
"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”
“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”
“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.
"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”
he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."
"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.
he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”
it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.
"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”
your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”
"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"
she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."
jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”
she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.
her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”
she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”
“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”
jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.
she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”
she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”
she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”
you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.
“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”
immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?
"hey, wait, so what does—”
you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.
"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.
"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"
you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"
jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand. 
with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.
after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore. 
"well…”  jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."
"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"
he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"
you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.” 
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it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.
the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.
his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.
he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.
jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.
he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.
his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.
he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.
your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.
he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin. 
you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.
the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.
you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.
your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.
his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.
despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body. 
but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.
jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.
he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.
his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.
you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily. 
after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.
at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.
you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.
his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair. 
his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.
he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.
you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.
after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.
you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.
his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.
“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.
now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.
his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.
he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.
“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.
the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.
you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.
“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.
you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.
his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.
you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.
but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.
after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.
he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.
his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.
he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.
“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.
the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”
everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.
“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.
jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.
he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.
the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.
he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.
he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.
“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.
you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”
you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. 
you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.
you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.
instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.
you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.
“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”
you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.
jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.
it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.
you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.
jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.
there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.
after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.
“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.
but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.
he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.
and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.
it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.
“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.
“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob. 
he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.
the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.
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“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”
you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”
“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”
“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”
a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”
you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”
“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”
you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”
“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”
“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.
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jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.
he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.
he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.
and then he sees you.
not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.
he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.
the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.
he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.
“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”
“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”
“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.
mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”
“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.
the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.
mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”
“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.
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you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again. 
you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.
you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.
“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.
your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.
you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.
he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”
you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.
finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.
“it’s nice to meet you, too.”
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!
taglist — located in the replies
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kyri45 · 7 months ago
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PREV / NEXT / ALL / FIRST (ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU!)
So, first off, if you see any stilistic changes, that's cause yesterday I broke my right arm in a car accident and since i'm right handed everything you see was sketched, drawn and coloured with my left index. Also drawing with one finger is so freaking slow so updates might slow down since my entire arm/wrist will be in a cast for the next month.
Second, thank you @that-sky-kid & @potat-soop for their sky kid submission! Since you both had similar outifit I thought of making you 2 friends in the AU!
Third, I'm making Odile went throught hell, i'm not sorry
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ahundredtimesover · 2 years ago
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Missing Jin hours and this sweet, carefree attitude of his is sending me 🥹🥹 those entries were so pure and raw and the way he handled it was precious.
I need time to dive into the main fic but this bit was lovely. 💕
friction: moments
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pairing: seokjin x f.reader genre: summer fling!au, fwb but there’s hidden feelings, fluff, v slight angst rating: mature- minors DNI wc: 1k warnings: this is mostly just talking tbh, implication that reader is half dressed? is that a necessary warning cause idk? seokjin is an angel and reader doesn’t know how to deal with her feelings note: this can be read as a stand alone mini-fic, but here’s the related works if you’re interested: main fic: aygmif | closer
“What’s this?”
Seokjin’s grazing a finger over the spine of the leather bound book on your nightstand. It makes a change, Seokjin being in your space instead of you in his, and you thought it might feel odd, but it’s nice, comforting almost, with the way he sprawls across your bed and helps you choose an outfit for Seulgi’s belated birthday party. 
“It’s my journal.” 
You watch as curiosity takes over his features, his hand flattens over the cover, thumb running along the edge. 
“Am I in there?”
You roll your lips together in effort not to smile. Yes. “Sometimes,” you say, and his eyes shine.
His eyes flick to the book, lingering there for just a moment, and then back to you. “Can I see?” he asks, oh so softly.
Shit. Seokjin asks for things so easily. And you love that about him, that he just goes for everything he wants and doesn’t stop to overthink. But the emotions that litter those pages can’t be said out loud. Knowing you’ve only got a few weeks left of summer, of course you can’t say anything - of course you can’t spill all your secrets out into the world, into Seokjin - doing so would spoil this… this lightness you have together. 
He almost does a good job of hiding his disappointment when you shake your head, but you immediately feel a pang of guilt. He only wants something real. All he wants to know that the thing that lingers between you is tangible, because it is. You feel it too. 
When you climb into his lap, Seokjin’s arms loop around your waist almost automatically, warm hands skate up your bare back, slips fingers under the straps of your bra and strokes the skin there. He looks up at you questioningly when you pick up the book and wrap your arms around him, holding it open behind his head. He presses a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. You find the pages from a few days before that were written in the middle of night, after Seokjin had taken you to a secluded cove an hour’s drive down the coast, where the water was crystal clear and sea glass and tiny pearlescent shells littered the sand and made it shine in the orange evening light. 
You remember complaining to Seulgi in one of your first surf lessons about how the beach was always empty of shells, the mass of tourists pocketing all the prettiest findings to take back to the city and leaving little left for anyone to enjoy. Apparently, Seokjin had overheard. 
He laid out a picnic while you practically skipped along the beach, shouting over to him excitedly whenever you found something particularly beautiful. His laughter echoed around the cove and your heart sang. Later you saw he’d posted a video of you on Instagram - walking back up to him, hair damp from the sea, silly smile plastered on your face, using your t-shirt pulled taut as a makeshift bucket for your new collection. Seokjin was chuckling fondly while you chattered about all you’d gathered. He’d captioned it cute. And it was then, at two AM, while he slept curled into your side, that you finally started to admit it to yourself. 
“‘It’s been a million years since I’ve felt free but that’s how it is with him. Seokjin makes everything so easy and it’s taken me a little bit by surprise. He’s everything fifteen year old me wanted and more. He’s funny and exciting and disgustingly handsome, and I like sex now more than ever. I always thought- ah! Seokjin!” He’s kissing slowly down your neck, nipping at the skin with his teeth. “Is this turning you on?”
He nods, smiling into the crook of your neck. “Do you know how hard it is to get a compliment out of you?”
“Shut up, no it isn’t,” you scoff. “We can’t have sex now, we’ll be late.” 
He smirks, and you’re gone. You’d agree to anything any time he looks at you like that. “They won’t even notice if we slip in quietly.” 
You laugh, and he goes back to kissing, holding you a little tighter. A little closer. 
“‘I always thought meeting the person I like would come with perfect timing, and it would all settle into place without any trouble. But the only imperfect thing about Seokjin and I is that I have to leave, and we don’t have enough time to be more than what we are. And when I go-’”  He stops again. But this time it feels like he’s holding his breath and the fingers on your skin dig in a little tighter, leaving white imprints there when he realises and loosens his grip. “‘-Seokjin will find someone better suited, someone less emotionally constipated, someone who can actually tell him how she feels, like he deserves, instead of writing it down to keep for herself. And I’ll be without him, wasting my life on obligations. I think I-‘“ 
You hesitate on the word written there. Your hands shake and you hope he doesn’t feel the vibrations. If you say it, the spell of this summer fling will be broken. If you say it, how could you take it back when it’s over? “I think I really like him. And that’s a huge surprise for me, and an even bigger problem. I thought it could stay easy, and now we’ve got so little time left, and I’m really scared.’”
Seokjin is quiet for a few moments. His chin rests on your shoulder and now, after your half-confession, you’re not sure how to go back to an easy conversation.
Eventually, he asks, “Why do you do that?” 
“Do what?” 
“Plan out the ending.” He pulls back a little to study your face, and he’s wearing some tight, uncomfortable expression you want to kiss away. “You seem happier when you live in the moment.”
You sigh. “Moments don’t last.” 
“No,” he says, cupping your face in his hands so gently it burns. “But when they’re gone they leave room for more. Let’s have more, yeah? Let’s just see what happens.” 
Seokjin’s idea of romance is fanciful. He might wear rose tinted glasses, but when things don’t go as expected he leans into it, and lets the change take him along for the ride. He’s adaptable in ways you’ve never been, but maybe you should try harder. Maybe someday you can come back, and try this thing with Seokjin all over again. Maybe one day you could be real.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
a/n: hahahaha i’m supposed to be writing the yoongi collab but aygmif couple won’t let me, i’m sorry for posting about them yet again.
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collectivelysillysoup · 20 days ago
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we are working on an au 👀
no finished designs for hermits yet but heres a doodle of Grian while we figure it out (might end up a bit different, again, just a sketch)
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working AU name is Hermitbots
it's a botfighting au centered around Grian!!! :3
all knowledge and inspo can be found from NHRL
Here's some bot designs!!! :D (might change a little, this is still development stuff)
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If you want to hear more about this AU and what we have so far please let us know!!!!! And feel free to send us questions in our ask box :3c
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Weapon info and some other bot info below read more uwu;
Grumbot V.1
12 pound
Undercutter and fork
mustache can pop out to throw opponents back
4-wheeled
Jrumbot
3 pound
hammersaw (attempt at flipper but unsuccessful)
4-wheeled
Grumbot V.2
12 pound
hammersaw and flipper (both improved)
(4-wheeled)
Bottercup
12 pound
flamethrower
4-wheeled (possible design change to a walker- ykyk)
VHSnail
30 pound
Drum spinner(? this needs some thought on actual shape and stuff- meant to be something like eruption/ waddles weapons)
one big spherical wheel covered by a shell to protect from potential immobility threats
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smileysuh · 2 years ago
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ice cold, cabin fever - part 1
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🌙 staring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."
cw/ tw. threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, I petnames. (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 25.9k
🍭 aus. e2l, s2l, step brothers Jihan, non idol, ski resort, roomies, etc...
☀️ mlist + an. so when I tell you I know practically nothing about skiing... also, the recent soop episodes have been giving gyucheol and jihan and I'm dying. I other inspo: 🙂 🙂 🙂 I pls note. this fic has so much dialogue, it exceeds the number of paragraphs allowed in a tumblr post, so it will be split into 2 parts posted at the same time I read the whole thing in one post + the bonus by subscribing to my patreon and clicking here
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Prologue: 
“You guys aren’t going to believe this,” Jeonghan says as he enters the main area of the flat he shares with his brother and two best friends.
Three sets of eyes turn to him, and it’s Joshua who takes a shot in the dark and asks, “Did you get chlamydia again?”
“Aish, fuck off,” Jeonghan picks up a pillow to launch at his brother, “I just got off the phone with mom you idiot.”
“Ouch, since when are you telling mommy about your STI results?” Seungcheol teases, earning himself a pillow as well, that he easily bats out of the air.
“Tell us,” Mingyu urges seriously, “what did your mom say?”
“Only that our new step-sister decided to join us for the destination wedding, super last minute,” Jeonghan explains, taking a seat next to the youngest and sweetest of his friends.
“Did your mom tell her that they already gave up the cabin?” Seungcheol’s heart drops to his stomach, thoughts of powdered snow and skiing swirling on the periphery of his mind.
“Fuck if I know,” Jeonghan shrugs. “She sounds like a bit of a bitch if I’m being honest- sorry Gyu, but it looks like you’ll be giving up your bed.”
“We’re sharing a cabin with her?” The maknae’s jaw drops.
“Well she’s definitely not staying with us,” Joshua stiffens in his seat, “I don’t know what weird step-sibling porn you’re into Gyu, but we’re not that kind of family.”
“Listen,” Seungcheol leans forward, eager to keep the peace, “none of us have met her before- but your mom really likes her dad- let’s just hope she’s as nice as he is… I really doubt she’s a bitch. If it comes down to it, I can give up my bed, there’s a pullout in the cabin too, right? We’ll make it work.”
The glances all four men exchange betray how unsure they all are, and Seungcheol only wishes he was as positive as he makes himself out to be. 
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1: Thursday - Arrival
“Y/n! You made it!” your dad’s excitement should be contagious, but as you haul your suitcase into the lobby of the ski resort, you’re much too exhausted to mirror his attitude.
In fact, you’d bet you look exactly how you feel; done with this vacation before it’s even started.
Despite this, you accept the hug from your dad, trying to relax a little before he lets you go again. “Was your flight very long?”
“Too long,” you sigh, taking a deep breath before returning his question with “and you?”
“Too long,” your dad laughs. “But you can rest easy now, the hard part is over.”
Is it? 
“I’m so excited for you to meet Suelki,” he continues, “and her two sons.” 
“I’m excited too,” you really force a smile this time, trying your best to look sincere.
“Good,” your dad nods, beginning to lead you through the resort. “So listen, this trip is kind of like my honeymoon- so we really don’t expect to be seeing that much of you- Suelki and I have a suite in the actual hotel itself, but I think I mentioned to you over the phone that we booked two of the rustic cabins-”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” your grip on your suitcase handle tightens.
“Because you originally said you wouldn’t be coming, we gave the second cabin up to Suelki’s boys’ roommates- and unfortunately, the entire resort is booked up this week, so we couldn’t get you your own room.”
“Right-” He’d mentioned something along these lines during your quick phonecall when you’d changed your mind about coming on the trip, and you’re eager to see what fix he has for this.
“Each cabin had a pullout though, so you’ll be staying in one of them, and whether it’s with Suelki’s boys’ or their friends, I really hope you use this trip to get to know your new step brothers.”
Your mouth feels dry, heart jittering in your chest at the concept of sharing a cabin for a week with two boys- 
“The wedding is on Saturday,” your dad and you have reached a door leading outside; icy air hits your face when he opens it. “And the cabins you’re looking for are the last two down this road here- cabin 6 and cabin 7. Just follow the string lights-”
“Are you-” you swallow. “You’re not going to take me out to where I’m staying?” You tighten your grip on your heavy luggage, eying the snowy path.
“Sorry darling, but your plane was late, and you’ve arrived at a bad time- Suelki and I have massages scheduled in-” he checks his watch, “ten minutes? I really have to go- but you’re a strong, capable girl, you’ll find the cabins no problem.”
This is exactly the type of behaviour from your father that you’re used to. 
Part of you had expected something to be different- you’d been hoping that the wedding jitters would make him more inclined to be compassionate to you- but it looks like he’s as intent on letting you go about it yourself as he’s ever been.
After your long flight, and now this- you’re really questioning if you should have come on this trip at all.
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2: Thursday - Arrival
“Joshie, come look at this,” Jeonghan urges, holding his tea tighter while gazing out the small cabin window.
“What is it?” his brother sighs, putting down his book but remaining seated on the couch.
“Some girl is dragging her suitcase up the path.” 
He can’t help but snicker. With the road covered in snow for the winter season, accessing the cabins isn’t the easiest task in the world. 
Having been here before, the brothers had packed accordingly, and carrying their duffles had been substantially easier than the struggle Jeonghan is currently witnessing. 
“Oh shit.”
“What?” Now Joshua stands up.
“She’s coming to the door- shit-” Jeonghan pulls away from the window roughly, and hot liquid spills over the edge of his mug, making contact with his fingers. “Shit!” he shakes his hand out-
“Must be the step sister?” Joshua suggests, ignoring the elder man tending to his reddening skin. 
“Must be,” Jeonghan hisses, putting his tea down just as there’s a knock on the door.
The elder of the two takes a seat on the couch, pulling his hoodie sleeve down to cover his hand while Joshua answers the door. 
“Hi-” your voice carries into the small space, and Jeonghan silently urges Joshua to move to the side so he can get a better look at you. “Are you Jeonghan?”
“No, Joshua,” he shifts, allowing you to see into the cabin, “that’s Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan lifts his unharmed hand, wiggling his fingers at you and offering a smile. 
His eyes quickly take you in, assessing your cute outfit- and its lack of weather appropriateness. He finds himself stifling a laugh again, shaking his head to snap himself out of it before saying loudly, “Aren’t you going to let our new step-sister in?”
You look like a bunny entering a wolf’s den, and you stop just past the threshold, allowing the door to be closed behind you.
“I guess you guys know about the cabin situation?” Your first words aren’t something Jeonghan had particularly expected from you-
You’re much more forward than your appearance gives you credit for, and he begins to wonder if his little bunny has teeth. 
“Cabin situation?” Joshua comes to join Jeonghan on the couch, reaching for his book.
“Yeah-” you swallow, “I heard my cabin got given up to two of your friends?”
“Right, that cabin situation,” Jeonghan and Joshua exchange glances, and they leave space for you to continue.
“I was thinking,” you shift awkwardly on your feet, a chunk of snow shifts off your boot and onto the wood floor, “uh- you guys aren’t really going to make me share a cabin with two of your friends, right?” 
“What do you mean?” Joshua cocks his head, and Jeonghan leans back in his seat, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him.
“Just that-” you release a deep sigh. “Guys- I’m going to be honest, I’m really tired- is there no possible way one or even both of your friends could- I don’t know… crash in this cabin with you guys?”-  there’s a beat of silence, Jeonghan and Joshua exchange glances - “like, that’s a pullout couch, right? So- at least one could stay here-”
Joshua opens his mouth to respond, but Jeonghan places a hand on his knee to silence him, taking the lead in these new family negotiations; “You might be able to convince one of them to stay here,” he tells you, “but I doubt you’d be more comfortable alone with a strange man you’ve never met, than you would be having two.”
“I mean…” you look between your new step-siblings, “these guys are your friends, right? It’s not like they’re going to- erm… try anything?”
“You’re right,” Jeonghan nods sympathetically, “let’s go over there and you can see which one you prefer to spend a week alone with.”
You shift again, releasing a groan. “I know we just met- but I’ve gotta say, you’re a bit of an asshole, you know that?”
Jeonghan laughs.
“He’s right though,” Joshua sighs. “As unfortunate as it is that your cabin got given up, there’s no chance both of our friends are going to give up their beds to sleep on a pullout in here with us.” He stands up. “I saw you were struggling with your bag earlier- I’ll carry it for you, we can go to the next cabin over and discuss the situation with Cheol and Mingyu-”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” you open the door, holding your suitcase tightly, “I’m a big girl, I’ll handle this myself.”
The new brothers watch you leave the cabin, and then Joshua heads to the window, eyes following you as you trudge down the path back to the main road again. 
“Is she still struggling?” Jeonghan asks.
Joshua lets out something between a laugh and a sigh, then he nods. “She’s really struggling.”
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3: Thursday - Arrival
“Is that your stomach growling?” Cheol groans, distracted from the Christmas film he’s watching for what must be the third time-
“I’m sorry-” Mingyu whines, hand rubbing his tummy in slow circles, “you know how I get when we go skiing-”
“Then eat more at dinner next time,” the elder man snaps, grabbing the remote to turn the sound up in the hopes it will drown out his friend’s stomach, “and make some ramen or something.”
“I’m too lazy, I can’t get up,” the large man sprawled on the couch groans, his voice switching to something more on the girly side when he says “oppa, make me ramen? We can have Netflix and ramen?”
“Aish-” Seungcheol reaches out to bat his friend’s foot.
Mingyu is the baby of their apartment back home, and all three of the men born in 95 try not to make a habit of indulging him in maknae privileges. In fact, Mingyu often ends up being the one who cooks and cleans, but Seungcheol will never admit that to anyone.
“Stop complaining and watch your movie,” Seungcheol urges, eyes returning to the screen, where Jim Carrey’s Grinch is having a similar meltdown to Mingyu’s.
A knock at the door stuns both men, their heads whipping towards the sound- then Mingyu is jumping off the couch, as if he wasn’t just claiming to be a lazy bum less than a minute ago. 
“Who is it?” Cheol groans, leaning back against the pillows, stretching his tired arms out in front of him. 
He’s never going to get through this movie if there keeps being distractions-
“Shh- it’s a girl-” Mingyu’s whispered response is another shock to Cheol’s system, and he suddenly finds himself sitting up in his seat.
“Well, answer the door!” he whispers back.
Mingyu follows through with the command, and a moment later he’s greeting you with a “Hello?”
“Uh, hi? Are you… Cheol?” 
“No,” Mingyu steps to the side, “he is.”
Seungcheol blinks at you, taking you in.
He’s definitely never met you before, so how is it you know his name- 
How is it you know the name that only his friends use?
“Then that makes you… Mingyu?” 
You’re not even looking at Seungcheol anymore, your eyes have slipped over him and returned to the large man in front of you faster than Cheol can even clock-
“That’s right,” Mingyu nods, then, “wait! You must be the step-sister!”
“That’s me,” you sigh. “The step-sister.”
“Come in,” Mingyu urges you, “and let me take your bag, I bet you’re tired from your flight-”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes, setting the remote down. It’s unlikely he’ll be returning to the movie anytime soon, and he supposes he should be friendly with you- despite his exhaustion from a long day on the slopes.
“Did you drag your suitcase all the way through the snow?” Mingyu asks, blatantly bewildered at your behavior. 
“Uh huh,” you nod, closing the door behind you and reaching down to take off your boots.
“No one helped you?” Mingyu’s tone makes the whole thing seem like blasphemy, and Cheol watches the way he fusses over you, setting your bag at the foot of his bed before rushing to help you take off your jacket-
“No one,” you confirm. “Joshua offered, but- I managed by myself, like always.”
“So you stopped at the other cabin first?” Seungcheol confirms, “Met Hannie and Josh-”
Your eyes meet, and then Seungcheol finds himself looking at your lips-
“Yeah,” you tear your gaze away, turning to Mingyu when you explain, “wanted to talk with them about bed arrangements first-”
“You can have mine,” Mingyu offers, flashing you an earnest smile.
“Really?” your eyes widen, and you look between the two men again. “You’re not uh… too big for it?”
Seungcheol feels like he’s been hit in the chest. 
If you’d had asked your question without looking directly at him, he might have been able to convince himself you weren’t insinuating anything- but it’s clear what you’re saying. It’s clear you’re clocking him as being smaller than his younger friend, clear you’re inadvertantly suggesting that as the shorter man - Cheol - should sleep on the couch.
A month ago, Cheol had suggested the very same thing, thinking you’d be some nice girl he could give his bed to.
But now? 
He wouldn’t give you his bed if your life depended on it. 
“It’s okay,” Mingyu is quick to assure you, “you can have my bed. Here, have a seat, we’re watching a Christmas movie-  did your flight serve you dinner? Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” you sigh, collapsing onto the couch, taking the corner Mingyu had inhabited earlier. 
“I’ll make us some ramen,” Mingyu tells you. “Ramen always goes well with Christmas movies.”
Seungcheol notes the way you smile at Mingyu’s words. 
He feels invisible, and most of all, bitter. He’s not happy about any of this, not the way you’d taken a hit at his pride, nor Mingyu’s new burst of energy and overly friendly demeanor.
Picking up the remote again, Seungcheol hits play, and he hopes nothing else sets him off tonight, or he just might explode.
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4: Friday - morning
Waking up is slow at first, and then it hits you all at once. You sit up, clutching the quilt to cover your body while blinking away the last of your drowsiness, eyes acclimatizing to the soft glow of the room.
Sunlight is coming through the cabin shades, and you realize two things very quickly. First, that you’re alone, and second, that you’re not where you’d fallen asleep last night.
After settling in and eating your ramen, you’d gotten comfortable on the couch. The movie hadn’t truly captured your interest, and you’d begun to doze off with the intention of waking up when the film was complete to move to the bed- 
But you have no recollection of being woken up.
You hadn’t even had any dreams. You’d been so exhausted from a day of traveling that you’d blacked out, and now, you’re left with confusion and body aches.
Someone must have carried you to bed- 
You hope it was Mingyu.
When you look down, you see you’re still dressed in your travel outfit, so the first thing you decide to do is explore the small cabin and find the shower.
Part of you is grateful the men you’re rooming with allowed you to sleep. It makes finding a routine easier. You take your time in the shower, allowing yourself to relax a little, and you consider what your day might look like.
You guess the men are on the slopes, as the skis that had been propped next to the door when you’d arrived are gone, and you decide exercise might be exactly what you need.
Besides, you’re at a ski resort, skiing seems like an obvious choice- although you’re not quite sure how it will work, seeing as you haven’t brought your own equipment-
You begin looking around the cabin for a resort map- and you’re so busy looking in all the hard places you almost miss the glaringly obvious piece of paper resting on the coffee table under a set of keys. 
Your heart lurches in your chest. You pocket the keys and open the paper to find it’s the resort pamphlet you’ve been searching for. 
Along with a map of the mountain, someone has taken the time to circle cabin 7, draw a line to the main hotel, and circled another section, which has been labeled ‘ski rentals’ in handwriting that’s just barely legible. 
There’s no other writing to indicate which man has left this for you, so you decide to assume it’s Mingyu.
Cheol had barely talked to you last night. He’d given off cold vibes; a man with walls built up around him. 
You truly can’t imagine that the quiet, brooding man had stopped to write on a map and leave you keys.
And honestly? You don’t want to imagine it.
It’s much safer to identify one of your roommates as a tall, white knight, and the other as a dark entity you’ll have to suffer through for a week. 
It makes it easier to plan on ignoring Cheol. 
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5: Friday - afternoon
Today is a good day for Seungcheol. 
He’d been worried that your arrival would mean babysitting duty, so when you’d slept in and he’d convinced Gyu to leave you be, he’d been nearly ecstatic. 
He’d clocked you as a non-skier the moment you’d arrived without the correct equipment, and despite his day job as a physical trainer, Cheol is not in the mood to be teaching anyone how to do anything.
No, he’s much happier taking the slopes with his best friend. 
Mingyu isn’t as adept with skis as Cheol is, but he’s good enough for the elder not to worry too much about him. 
After tackling a few of the harder slopes, the two men find themselves on a green run. 
It’s enjoyable to take the hill in an easy manner, crisscrossing down the incline, watching the powder fluff up and take air with each harsh turn-
The day is gorgeous-
And then Cheol spots you, and his mood drops instantly.
You’re a couple hundred feet down the mountain from he and Mingyu, and they both stop for a moment, battling the glare from the sun-
“Is that-”
“Y/n,” Seungcheol confirms with a sigh. “First the thing with her bags, now this- it’s like she’s never been to a ski resort before.”
“Maybe she hasn’t,” Mingyu cocks his head to the side, looking thoughtful for a moment. “We should go help her.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “You really think she wants our help?”
“It never hurts to offer,” the younger, more considerate man points out. “Besides, this is Jeonghan and Joshua’s new step-sister, we’re trying to be nice to her, right?”
With a sigh, Seungcheol agrees, and the two continue down the mountain, catching up to you easily. 
“Hello!” Mingyu calls out to you, in classic extroverted Mingyu fashion. This earns him a smile from you, and you stop your slow slope descent to chat.
“Hi Mingyu,” you say, pushing your hair out of your face and adjusting your hat.
You don’t say hello to Seungcheol, and he doesn’t greet you either.
“How’s your day going so far?” Mingyu asks. “Are you enjoying the fresh air?”
“Yeah- found some skis at the rental and I think I’m getting the hang of it,” you tell them, “wasn’t sure I’d be skiing much this trip but, well, here I am.”
“You slept in,” Seungcheol finds himself stating. “We weren’t sure we’d bump into you today.”
“Right…” you trail off, giving Seungcheol a quick once over before your eyes return to Mingyu, and an easy smile works its way across your face again, “Have you been skiing long? I mean, I get the feeling that I’m the only person on the trip who doesn’t have much experience with all of this- you guys all brought your own skis.”
“Yeah, we’re all big snow sports people,” Mingyu tells you. “Seungcheol was actually almost an olympic level snowboarder-”
“Really?” Now you’re looking at Seungcheol. Truly looking at him. “But… you brought skis?”
“He’d be much too fast on his board,” Mingyu grins. “Skis slow him down, make him level with the rest of us. But, he’s still pretty good at skiing too.”
“Could give you a few pointers if you want,” Seungcheol says, earnestly. 
He’d gotten a good look at what you were doing wrong before they approached you, and a few minor tweaks would have you skiing with the best of them-
“Erm, thanks, but no thanks, I think I’m good learning at my own pace for now.” 
He notes the way you avert your eyes, upper lip curling slightly with disdain. 
He should have never bothered to offer you help. 
Seungcheol takes a deep breath. “You two are probably more compatible for your level, and I want to do some harder runs. I’ll see you around.”
And with that, he leaves you and Mingyu, taking off down the mountain at a speed his friends can only dream of.
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6: Friday - evening
It’s been a good day for Mingyu, and settling in for dinner with his friends is the perfect ending for it. They order half the menu, covering the table in all sorts of foods to try together, and it reminds him of their time in university. 
While Mingyu is younger than his friends, he’d entered their frat before they’d graduated, and the bond he has with his older hyungs is truly one born out of a shared love for food. 
“Try this,” Jeonghan insists, and Mingyu opens his mouth before he even gets a good look at what’s about to be fed to him. “It’s good right?”
Mingyu can only nod happily while munching, hand reaching for his beer.
“Where were you guys today?” Joshua asks, “we missed you on the slopes.”
“Did a couple of the harder ones,” Seungcheol responds while the maknae has his mouth full, “then bumped into your step-sister on the easier hill-”
“Oh?” This grabs both Jeonghan and Joshua’s attention. “She was skiing?”
“Badly,” Cheol leans back in his chair, sipping his beer.
“She wasn’t that bad,” Mingyu insists, swallowing his food so he can defend you. “I did a couple runs with her and she wasn’t that bad, really.”
The brothers exchange a glance that Mingyu can’t read. 
He’s always been jealous of how in tune Jeonghan and Joshua are. As ‘irish twins’ - siblings born within the same year - it’s like they can read each other’s minds, and Mingyu always feels like he’s missing some crucial part of the conversation.
“Did you guys sort out the bed situation?” Joshua asks, looking down at the steak he’s cutting. He gives off an air of nonchalance, but Mingyu can tell that this is a topic both brothers are interested in. 
“I think you mentioned giving up your bed when we talked about it a few months ago,” Jeonghan adds, “isn’t that right, Cheol?”
“That was before I met her.”
The brothers exchange a glance, and a smirk works its way onto Jeonghan’s face. “Looks like Gyu got the short end of the straw, huh?”
“I offered her my bed,” Mingyu insists. 
“But she fell asleep on the couch during our Christmas movie,” Seungcheol says smoothly. “I moved her to his bed, wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy.”
“My neck is aching,” Mingyu groans, rubbing at it, “but it was worth it. I told her she could have my bed, so she had my bed.”
“He’s so eager to help her out,” Cheol teases, pushing at Mingyu’s shoulder. “When we saw her on the mountain earlier, she refused my help, but was more than happy to ski with him.”
Joshua and Jeonghan exchange a glance that has Mingyu rushing to assure them, “she’s your new step sister- I’m not trying anything, I just want to be friendly-”
“What was that?” Cheol leans closer, “I don’t think I heard you?”
“I said,” Mingyu raises his voice, “she’s their stepsister, and I’m not trying anything!” 
“Perfect, that’s exactly what I thought I heard,” Seungcheol grins, and then he’s looking at something over Mingyu’s shoulder. “Hey Y/N, you should join these three for dinner.”
“Uh…” 
Mingyu turns to find you standing there, and his skin heats with embarrassment. 
He’s pretty sure you’d just heard what he’d loudly said to his friends, and his skin tingles with regret, ears heating-
“Really,” Seungcheol stands, “take my seat, I was just leaving.”
“Where are you headed?” Jeonghan asks, more curious about his friend than his own step-sister.
“The pool.” Cheol grabs the jacket on the back of his chair. “Have some knots in my back, but nothing the hot tub jets can’t fix.”
For the second time today, Mingyu finds himself watching Cheol make a hasty retreat in order to avoid spending time with you. And for the second time today, Mingyu finds himself eagerly attempting to help you fit in, despite his oldest friend’s rejection of you.
“Come eat,” Mingyu urges, patting the newly empty seat next to him. 
“Are you guys sure? I can always eat alone-”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Joshua laughs. “You’re one of us now, come sit.”
Mingyu is glad that your step brothers immediately start asking you questions, and for a little while, everything runs smoothly. 
Every minute he spends with you, he warms up more and more to your presence.
It’s obvious to him that yesterday, when you’d arrived, you’d been out of sorts after hours of traveling. Your temperament has improved drastically, and Mingyu finds himself laughing along with his friends at small jokes you make here and there.
The four of you spend a much longer time in the resort restaurant than Mingyu had expected, and it’s only when Jeonghan begins to yawn that you all decide it’s time to head back to your cabins.
The night is cold, but it’s not snowing, and your small group follows the poles of string lights diligently.
Jeonghan and Joshua pull off one stop earlier than your own, wishing you goodnight before heading into their cabin.
As you and Mingyu continue up the path, Mingyu finds you walking closer to him, and he’s surprised when you say “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Carrying me to bed last night,” you respond, “and the map you left on the coffee table, the one with the ski rental circled.”
“Oh, uh…” Mingyu swallows thickly, “that actually wasn’t me. I think it’s Cheol who you have to be thanking.”
“Oh…” 
‘Oh’ is right.
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7: Saturday - morning
When you wake up, you’re struck by two things. First, that you’re alone, as you were when you woke up yesterday. And second, that your father is getting married.
Your body aches when you sit up, muscles screaming at you for having the audacity to ski as long as you had with Mingyu, and you decide pretty quick that another attempt at the slopes is off the table.
You remember what Seungcheol had said yesterday, about the pool and the hott ub, and decide maybe he had the right idea about jets and sore muscles.
He can be an ass, but you suppose he uses his brain sometimes.
You change into your swimsuit, and make sure to layer yourself with comfy sweats and your parka, pool bag in hand before you set out to take on the weather. 
For the billionth time since arriving at this God forsaken cabin, you wish you’d gotten a room in the resort itself. It’s snowed over the night, but the path is somewhat cleared. Even so, the trek to the main hotel is difficult, and your muscles are even more tired when you arrive.
The resort is a ski destination, and you cross your fingers that most of its patrons are on the hills and not utilizing the various pools and saunas. 
Your wish comes true, and you’re pleased to see hardly anyone as you pass through the indoor pool to check out the outdoor areas, intent on having a hot tub to yourself-
As you’re walking along the pool deck, clutching your parka tight around your body, you notice someone swimming. 
He’s underwater, slicing through the pool like a professional swimmer. The glare from the overcast sky makes it impossible to get a great look at the athlete and you settle next to the hot tub, hoping to see more when he comes up for air. 
You’ve just taken off your parka and are wading into the hot tub when the swimmer stops at the edge of the pool. He’s in the shallows now, and he’s able to stand up, his back to you.
Droplets of water glisten down his back in the light, steam immediately beginning to lift off of his skin-
His shoulders and back look like they were crafted by the Gods, and the man runs a hand through his hair, shaking it out of his face.
You just wish he would turn to look at you, so you can see who you’re drooling over-
In no time at all, this wish is coming true, only, you wish it hadn’t, because the moment the gorgeous, well-muscled athlete turns to look at you, you’re locking eyes with your least favourite person on the mountain.
Seungcheol is as taken aback as you are for a moment.
He’d been reaching for the rail to pull himself out of the pool, but now, he’s simply frozen.
You’re practically gawking at each other, and you’re the first to break eye contact, clearing your throat and looking away.
You can feel your skin heating, and it’s not just from the hot tub, which you wish you could simply submerge yourself in and never come back up-
In the periphery of your vision, you see Seungcheol getting out of the pool, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your entire body not to turn and watch him.
Then, to your surprise, he gives you an excuse to look at him, calling out, “The wedding starts at four, don’t be late.”
Your jaw hits the hottub floor, and you watch Seungcheol practically run away from you.
It’s becoming an all too familiar sight. 
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8: Saturday - afternoon
Sitting in his mother’s hotel room, watching her do the final touches on her wedding look, Joshua is struck with memories of the past.
There’d been many mornings growing up where he’d sat on the closed-lid toilet, watching her brush through her hair, sometimes braiding it, before taking him and Jeonghan to school.
In the quiet of their small apartment bathroom, nothing could come between them, not Jeonghan whining for whatever reason, nor the angry father who’d disappeared from the picture when the boys had turned ten.
To Joshua, the moment feels like peace, or at least, as close to it as he’s ever come.
He can tell, by the way his mom smiles when she looks at herself in the mirror, that she’s truly happy, and it’s all he’s ever wanted for her. 
The moment is fleeting, as Jeonghan enters the room and brings with him a certain level of chaos, the kind of windswept mayhem that follows him everywhere, like a moving storm.
“Booze?” The first word to come out of his mouth.
“In the fridge,” Joshua motions to the small cooler before asking his elder brother, “drinking already?”
“Just spent half an hour running all over and making sure everyone’s doing what they’re supposed to be doing,” Jeonghan sighs, bending down to retrieve a can of beer, cracking it open with nimble fingers.
“You wanted to be the best man,” Joshua points out.
For such a small wedding, consisting of only close family and a few friends, roles hadn’t been a necessity, but Joshua wasn’t aware that scrambling around to make sure people are in place would be necessary either.
“Y/N forgot her shoes at the cabin, so Mingyu ran to get them, but by the time he got there, Seungcheol had apparently realized the heels were needed, so he’d grabbed them- and somehow they’d missed each other in the lobby-” Jeonghan cuts off his own ramblings with a large sip of his drink. 
“Sounds like quite the goose chase,” their mother’s calm voice visibly settles the best man, who takes a seat next to his brother.
“You look amazing,” Jeonghan tells her, as sincere as Joshua’s ever seen him. “Our new step-sister’s dad is a lucky man.”
“Since when did you stop calling him by his name?” Seulki laughs, returning her gaze to the mirror, fixing her veil. “Looks like you’re both getting used to Y/N though, Joshua mentioned that you all had dinner last night. Is she settling in okay?”
“I think so,” Joshua says thoughtfully.
“Mingyu really likes her,” Jeonghan adds.
Joshua nods. “And we do too.”
Their mom gives them a knowing look. “How’s Seungcheol finding his cabinmate? Haven’t you both always said he’s a good judge of character?”
“He’s also a stubborn ass,” Jeonghan grins over the rim of his drink, “so we can’t really trust his opinions on her- besides, any time she’s around, he runs the other way. I doubt they’ve talked much.”
“That’s a shame,” Seulki frowns. “I bumped into her with Mingyu on the slopes yesterday, she seemed really lovely.”
“She is,” Joshua admits. He’d also enjoyed getting to know you last night over food and drinks.
“Well,” Seulki turns to her boys, “let’s just hope Seungcheol warms up to her, but we’ll put that to the side for now, we have a wedding to get to.”
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9: Saturday - evening
The ceremony had gone exactly as planned. 
After the initial goose chase looking for your shoes, there’d only been one or two small details Jeonghan had been forced to attend to. But after it all, his mom had walked down the aisle, vows had been said, and Jeonghan had gained a father figure.
Standing at the alter next to his brother, Jeonghan had watched everything take place with a keen eye.
He’d been pleased to see the three couples invited - his aunt and uncle, and two of your father’s friends with their wives - sitting in the small venue with his roommates. And he’d been even more interested in watching his friends react throughout the service.
Mingyu had gotten teary-eyed the moment Seulki had begun her walk down the aisle, and even Seungcheol had torn his gaze from you for long enough to admire the dress.
When everything was said and done, the small party had moved to a secluded room off the main restaurant to have food, drinks and further celebration. Here, Jeonghan had again noticed Seungcheol’s affinity for having you in his line of sight.
“You know,” Jeonghan says, as he settles into the seat next to his brother, eyes fixed on his muscular friend by the small bar, “for a guy who runs away whenever y/n is around, he spends an awful lot of his time watching our step sister.”
Joshua chuckles, sipping his champagne. “You noticed that too, huh?”
“Hard not to,” Jeonghan grins, following Seungcheol’s gaze to where you’re clinging to Mingyu on the makeshift dance floor. “What do you think about those two?”
“I think Cheol better cut his losses now,” Joshua says, setting his drink down. 
“Really?” Jeonghan cocks his head, considering it all. “We’re only two days into this trip… a lot could happen before the week is done, don’t you think?”
“A lot could happen,” Joshua admits, “especially if someone like you decided to meddle.”
“I never meddle, only… help push things along.”
“In the direction you want it to go.”
“Touche,” Jeonghan lifts his champagne, gently clinking it against his brother’s discarded glass. 
“I think I’m going to go ask y/n to dance,” Joshua says, pushing his chair back and standing.
“Now who’s meddling?” Jeonghan laughs.
“Still only you.”
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10: Sunday - morning
The couch had been uncomfortable on a normal night, so Mingyu supposes it’s his own fault that he wakes up aching after a night of drinking and dancing at the wedding.
Stretching his arms over his head, he tries to ease the tight muscles in his shoulders, but he’s unable to get comfortable again.
He lays there for a few minutes, watching you dance in your cute bridesmaid dress on the back of his eyelids. He’s not sure if it’s you, the dress, or the visual combined, but he knows he’s going to remember last night for many years to come.
When he finally sits up, Mingyu looks towards your bed, and he’s not shocked to find you still sleeping. This is the third day waking up in the same room as you, and Mingyu’s becoming accustomed to the fact that you sleep in longer than he does.
He’s becoming accustomed to your cute, unsuspecting, resting face.
It makes sleeping on the couch worth it, and his sore muscles are almost forgotten- until he has to stand up, and they scream at him again.
Cheol is sitting up in his bed, scrolling through his phone, and he looks up when Mingyu stretches his arms above his head to release his shoulder tension.
‘Did you sleep well?’ Cheol mouths at him.
The two have been scared to even whisper in the mornings - scared to wake you up - and have adopted this silent way of communicating. Mingyu nods quickly, pointing back at his hyung as if to say ‘and you?’
Another quick nod, plus a thumbs up, then Cheol makes the motion of a man shoveling food into his mouth and points to the door.
Mingyu holds up his hand, ‘give me five minutes’ and slowly begins to tiptoe to the bathroom, where he can have some water, fix his hair, and change into better clothes. 
It’s a routine they’ve gotten used to, and for the third day in a row, Mingyu prays that when he exits the bathroom, by some miracle, you’ll be awake and eager to join them in the resort restaurant for breakfast.
Mingyu and Seungcheol - quite predictably - end up weathering the early morning elements without you, and it’s on the snowy path that Mingyu tells Cheol “I think I’m going to skip skiing today.”
“Really?” Seungcheol’s shock is written all over his face.
Mingyu nods. “I feel bad that we’re always ditching y/n- and we mostly go on the slopes she can’t ski on, so… I figured, after breakfast, I'd stay behind at the cabin and wait till she wakes up, then see what she wants to do today.”
There’s a long pause, and then Seungcheol sighs. “I see how it is.”
“Hmm?”
“You also walked her home last night after the dinner. Hannie, Joshie and I stayed up drinking, you usually join, but instead, you walked y/n home.”
“We were both tired,” Mingyu defends himself. “Watched a bit of a movie, then fell asleep.”
“Is that all that happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… part of me wondered if I should have stayed on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch last night, to give you privacy.”
Mingyu’s heart skips a beat in his chest, and he fumbles with the hood of his parka. “We didn’t- we aren’t-”
“You guys danced a lot last night, then you walked her home… if it’s not like that then… well, people might get the wrong idea.”
“Who’s people?” Mingyu nearly laughs. “It’s just us here- you think anyone really cared last night?”
“I guess not.” There’s a pause, then Seungcheol changes the topic, asking, “What do you think you’ll have for breakfast today?”
It’s then that Mingyu realizes, someone did care last night, and that someone, is Cheol. 
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11: Sunday - afternoon
You’d been a little shocked to find Mingyu reading on the couch when you’d woken up from your long sleep, but when he’d explained to you that he’d stayed behind from skiing with friends to make sure you had a proper buddy for the day, your heart had melted.
After a slow start, the two of you had decided to rent some snow shoes and use the back slope trails, which is how you end up climbing one of the smaller mountains together.
“We’re almost at the top,” Mingyu tells you, pulling out the trail map provided by the resort. You try to catch your breath while he points to a spot on the paper. “I think we’re about here, so just-” he drags his finger up the green line, “this far to the top.”
“Are you sure?” you laugh, grasping onto his arm to pull yourself closer so you can get a good look at the map.
There’s a pause, then he shakes his head, “No. We could also be sort of lost.” 
“Don’t say that-” you grin, pushing at him, “you’ve been mostly using this map alright- I trust you, and your trail-following capabilities.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t though,” Mingyu insists. “Honestly, following maps is definitely Cheol’s thing. One time, we were on a road trip, and we were going down this road for half an hour before we had to pull over and he got to look at the map- we’d missed a turn and it set us back like two hours-”
“It’s easier to miss a highway turn than a trailhead,” you assure him. “Come on, we said we’d climb this small mountain, and then we can take the lift back down and finish our movie from last night at the cabin- just think about our nice, warm cabin-”
“Nice, warm cabin,” Mingyu nods, folding the map back up to put in the pocket of his parka. “Let’s go, we can do this.”
You watch the large, beautiful man pull away from you and continue your trajectory up, and you can’t help but smile, echoing the sentiment, “we can do this.” 
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12: Sunday - evening
Seungcheol had been surprised to find the cabin empty after skiing, and he’d been even more surprised when he went to the restaurant to find you and Mingyu not there either. 
However, he does find Jeonghan, who informs him that he’d seen you and Mingyu getting snow shoes a few hours ago, and Seungcheol’s heart sinks.
There’s a storm coming, and darkness has already begun to settle in across the resort- 
He hopes, for both your sakes, that you’re not on the top of the mountain, lost in the trails, when the worst of the winter weather hits.
After waiting diligently for his meal order to come through, Seungcheol ends up trekking back to your cabin with food and firewood in hand just as the snow begins to get heavier.
The last thing he expects when he enters your lodging, is to find you sitting there with a minty green facemask on, and for a second, he stands in the doorway just staring at you.
You break eye contact first, calling out “Cheol’s back!” and a moment later, Mingyu comes out of the bathroom, mid-facemask application.
“Cheol!” Mingyu beams, rubbing the green goo against his cheek, “you’re back from skiing!”
“I was back earlier-” Seungcheol closes the door behind him, “stopped here for a bit but you guys weren’t around.”
“We just got back from a snowshoe hike like, twenty minutes ago?” Mingyu tells him, looking at you for confirmation. Seungcheol watches the way you nod at Mingyu, and his friend lights up. This time, when he says “twenty minutes ago,” he says it with confidence.
“Well, I brought food and firewood,” Seungcheol sighs, kicking off his snow boots and entering the small space.
“Firewood?” You’re looking at him again, and Seungcheol can’t find it within himself to meet your eyes while you’re green in the face like this, so instead, he sets the food down and moves to the small cast iron fireplace in the corner.
“Did you think this cabin heats itself?” The question comes out much snarkier than he’d intended, and he regrets it as he begins to build the fire.
“No- I mean, I noticed it was cold when we got in twenty minutes ago- but I don’t know, I sort of assumed that maybe hotel staff would bring the wood and keep the embers going-”
Seungcheol scoffs. Of course another good deed of his would go unappreciated. 
“It’s plausible!” you try to insist.
“I never said anything.”
“You scoffed, you went like-” you mimic the throaty annoyed sound he’d made, “you went like that, a scoff- you scoffed at me!”
“Here’s your dinner,” Seungcheol pushes the bag of takeout towards you across the floor, eyes fixed on the fire he’s still building.
“What if I don’t want your food? What if I want to finish with this mask and go grab food for myself?” 
Seungcheol sighs again. “There’s literally a storm coming in- if you go out, you’re going to get windswept away- just eat the food I brought.”
“What if I don’t like the food you brought?” you insist again, and Seungcheol’s getting real tired of your bratty stubbornness. 
“You will, it’s what you’ve been eating for two nights in a row.”
This finally gets you to open the bag he’d brought, and you remove the three takeout items, eying them. “How did you know I like this?”
“Like I said- you’ve eaten it two nights in a row.”
“Why were you watching?”
“Oh my god,” Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair. “Just say thank you and eat your fucking food while I make this fire so you don’t freeze to death- why does everything have to be so hard with you?”
There’s a long pause, and he hears the sound of a food container opening. 
He’s thankful you’ve finally shut up and are going to eat.
“Even without the fire- this cabin is well insulated enough that we wouldn’t die,” you say after a moment. “The hotel wouldn’t be able to have a cabin where its renters could just die.”
If he hadn’t just lit the fire, Seungcheol might have considered allowing you to test your theory out of spite.
“You always need to have the last word, don’t you, brat?” He stands up, dusting his hands off on his pants before turning to look at you.
You open your mouth to respond- but quickly shrink under his hard gaze.
A moment later, you pick up the remote, and a movie begins to play.
At least in this, Cheol’s gotten the last laugh. 
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13: Monday - morning
“Fuck-” Jeonghan’s cursing does more to wake Joshua up than the knock at their cabin door had, and the younger irish twin goes to cover his ears while Jeonghan stumbles out of bed.
“Who is it?” Joshua groans, giving in and sitting up, squinting at the door that his brother throws open to reveal their eldest friend.
“Are you two really still sleeping?” Seungcheol pushes into the cabin, throwing his gloves down before gruffly kicking off his boots.
“What time is it?” Jeonghan asks, rubbing at his eyes and groaning before running back to nosedive into his bed.
“Late enough that you should both be awake.”
“Y/n’s not awake,” Jeonghan insists, tucking himself back under the covers, “and I don’t see Mingyu anywhere- why do they get a free pass from your bitching but we don’t?”
“Because they’re not my ski buddies today,” Seungcheol says smoothly. “Seriously, what’s up with you two- and why is it so cold in here?”
They all look towards the castiron fire place, and the emptiness of it gives Joshua a chill that he feels tingling through his entire body.
“We thought we had enough firewood to carry us over from the evening and into the night, so neither of us picked up any dry wood from the hotel yesterday-” Joshua begins to explain.
“Evidently you both ran out,” Cheol concludes, scanning the rest of the small space with his precise, all-knowing, eyes. His gaze lingers on the bottle of fireball on the coffee table. “Instead of running to get more wood, you guys took to drinking, huh?”
“It’s not like we were going to cuddle,” Jeonghan groans.
“So you’re both hung over.”
“Just a little,” Joshua sighs, swinging his legs out of his bed. “Give us half an hour and I can be up.”
“It’s funny,” Cheol says, moving to sit on the couch, “I just had a fight with your step-sister last night about whether we’d freeze to death if we forgot firewood- and at the same time, you guys were over here, resorting to fireball instead of an actual fire-”
“It’s not like we could go out and grab wood once we realized we didn’t have enough,” Jeonghan defends himself. “The storm was really bad.”
“And it’s going to be bad for the next few days,” Seungcheol tells them, “so you better get used to grabbing firewood every evening after dinner.”
Both of his friends groan. “Sure, dad,” Jeonghan buries his head in his pillows. “You know what? If you’re going to be like this, maybe I’ll sleep in and not be your ski buddy today.”  
“Mingyu ditched me yesterday, and now you’re ditching me today-” Seungcheol clicks his tongue, “am I really being that much of a dick this vacation?”
It’s Joshua who responds, pointing out, as thoughtfully as he can; “you have been more of a dick than usual.” 
To which Seungcheol replies, “Yeah, well, you guys have been pissing me off more than usual.” 
Except, Joshua knows it’s not necessarily he and Jeonghan who have been pushing Seungcheol’s buttons this trip- but he keeps that to himself. 
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14: Monday - afternoon
After skipping out on skiing with his friend and brother, Jeonghan had gotten some much-needed rest. Then, around lunchtime, he’d left his cabin in search of food only to bump into you and Mingyu doing the same thing.
As if that wasn’t coincidence enough, when your odd trio had entered the resort restaurant, you’d found Joshua and Seungcheol midway through their own meals.
Jeonghan had insisted you all join together, fully intending to meddle with you and your cabin mates. After all, he’d just gotten some sleep, and his mischievous mind was eager to stir the pot.
To his disappointment, the seating arrangements make poking people’s buttons difficult- with Cheol all but ignoring you from his vantage point as far from you as possible.
Despite the less-than-ideal format of your table, Jeonghan still finds a way to draw everyone into the conversation when he states, “so I heard there was a fight over cabin temperature last night.”
This earns Jeonghan a rough kick under the table from Cheol, as well as a harsh look from you. 
“Who said that?” you ask.
“Cheol did,” Jeonghan smiles through the pain in his shin, and this time, when Cheol goes to kick him, a quick movement of his leg has him narrowly avoiding his friend’s boot. “This morning, when he came to pick of Joshie for skiing.”
“It wasn’t a fight,” you go to insist, but the harsh glare you send Seungcheol’s way has Jeonghan nearly laughing.
“Definitely not a fight,” Mingyu confirms, and Jeonghan almost feels bad for the way he’s sat between you and Seungcheol. A man caught between two stormy personalities ready for a clash.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Jeonghan says, “we ran out of wood last night, and we didn’t die.”
You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Well, that’s good to know.” 
“Y/n was saying last night,” Mingyu adds, “that she doubted we’d die without wood- hotel regulations and everything-”
“Was Cheol insisting you’d die without a fire?” Joshua’s eyes have widened, and he leans in, elbows on the table next to Jeonghan’s food. “Cheol? Really?” 
“He was just being dramatic,” you say, and Jeonghan watches the way his friend’s ears turn red at your statement.
“Says the girl who was going to go out in the storm instead of eating the food I brought for her.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, and a muscle feathers in his jaw. He’s glaring at his plate, and a thick tension blankets the table.
Jeonghan loves it.
But then something happens that he couldn’t possibly predict: your parents enter the restaurant, and before he knows it, you’re hopping up to go say hello to Seulki and your father, leaving the men to deal with the unresolved tension.
“Are you trying to start something?” Seungcheol whispers angrily as soon as you’re out of earshot, his angry gaze fixed on Jeonghan.
“Who, me?” Jeonghan touches his chest, pretending to be the most innocent person in the room. “I was just looking for conversation. Besides, we’re the one’s who forgot firewood last night, it’s quite embarrassing for us.”
“You don’t look embarrassed,” Seungcheol notes, sitting back in his chair.
“He has no shame,” Mingyu adds, nodding sympathetically.
“You’re right, I don’t,” Jeonghan’s grin widens, and he looks over Seungcheol’s shoulder to see you leaving the restaurant. “Now that it’s just us, I suppose I should be a good big brother and figure out which one of you intends to fuck my new step-sister.”
Mingyu had been taking a sip of his drink, and now he’s choking, which only adds to Jeonghan’s delight. 
“Jeonghan,” Joshua’s harsh warning bounces off the elder brother, whose smile is becoming something akin to the Cheshire Cat’s.
“Neither of us are going for your stupid step-sister,” Seungcheol growls, thumping Mingyu on the back to aid with the water caught in his lungs.
“Oh, so you’re both in denial?” Jeonghan’s eyes widen. “I’d thought at least Mingyu would fess  up.”
“Fess up to what?” Mingyu says between coughs. “I’m just being nice to her!”
Jeonghan nods. “Sure you are.”
“Why do you all think I want to fuck your stepsister?!” Mingyu whisper screams at his friends, doing a quick look around the restaurant before adding, “you guys are all horrible.”
“Cheol’s been bugging you about this too, huh?” It’s one of the first things Joshua’s really said, and Jeonghan realizes his brother is right. 
“Bet he had a lot to say about the way you danced with our sister at the wedding.”
“Were you all watching that?!” Mingyu’s eyes have widened. 
“It was quite the spectacle,” Jeonghan plays with his glass of water. “Cheol was jealous.”
“What!?” This time, when Seungcheol misses Jeonghan’s shin with his foot, the whole table shakes from impact along the underside of it. “Was not! I didn’t even dance with her- how could I be jealous when I never even danced with your stupid sister-”
“Stop calling her stupid,” Joshua’s harsh tone is a surprise to everyone, and the table goes quiet. “Just because you’re in denial about everything doesn’t mean you get to call our new sister stupid.”
“Someone’s taking their older brother role a little seriously-” Seungcheol lets out a whistle.
“Deflect all you want,” Joshua sighs, “Change the topic and make fun of me, but at the end of the day, you’re only making things harder on yourself… both of you.”
For a moment, both Seungcheol and Mingyu are put on the spot, then Seungcheol insists, “We’re not doing anything.”
“And denial is a river in Egypt,” Joshua sighs, shocking the whole table with a pop culture quote- something that’s very unlike him. “Cheol, you’re done eating, let’s leave these two and get a few more runs in before the storm makes skiing impossible.” 
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15: Monday - evening
Sitting on the floor with your roommates, roasting marshmallows on the fire while the storm rages outside, you find yourself noticing all the small details about them both.
It’s the first night that you’ve actually allowed yourself to take a breath and relax, accepting that, with the extreme weather, there is really nothing else that can be done except to work on enjoying your company.
Mingyu is easy, as you’ve grown accustomed to having him around. You’ve gotten used to his large form, the clumsiness and easy smiles.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, is something you’re newly exploring, sneaking glances at his side profile whenever you think he’s fully distracted in his marshmallow making.
Unlike Mingyu, who thrusts his treat into the fire and watches it burn, Seungcheol is meticulous about his food, preferring a spot where his marshmallow can slowly turn golden near the embers.
He’s got a pretty side profile, and there’s a stubborn set to his jaw when he focuses, eyes fixed on flames that light his face in pretty hues. 
His nose is also quite striking, and along with his strong brow, his face is altogether quite attractive, something you’ve been fighting yourself on since the moment you entered the cabin and he’d been cold to you.
There’s something about the duality of him that has your heart racing whenever he’s around. 
You’re never sure which Cheol you’re going to get.
You’ve had glimpses of his softer side, especially on your first day when he’d carried you to bed and then left you a map- then there’d been the way he brought you your dress shoes after you’d forgotten to pack them and trekked to the hotel in snow boots on the day of the wedding-
It seems as if Seungcheol is the kind of man who likes to do nice things for you when you’re not watching, but after your small altercation last night, wherein you’d realized he’s also been doing fire duty, you’ve made more of an attempt to notice small things.
 Small things like the way he takes the perfect golden marshmallow out of the fire, places it between two chocolate graham crackers, and hands it to you without a word, giving you the best s’more of the night.
He balances his kindness to you by offering Mingyu the s’more after, and you think he must be doing it as if to say ‘you’re not special, I’ll share with everyone’ but you can’t help but think there might be more to it. 
To your surprise, Mingyu is the first of the three of you to get sleepy, and after a quick washup in the bathroom, he’s collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep. 
For the first time since arriving at the cabin, you find yourself truly alone with Seungcheol, no big, human buffer to keep you both in line.
The silence is thick. Even so, in the quiet, Seungcheol gives you wide birth to go wash your face and brush your teeth while he cleans up the few items from your s’mores.
There’s hardly anything to be said, and the two of you find yourselves getting into your own beds in no time at all.
“Turning off the light,” Seungcheol tells you, hand reaching for the lamp chord. 
He pauses, waiting for your curt “okay” before following through with his statement of intent, and the room is captured in darkness.
The wind howls outside, drowning out any sounds of your roommates breathing, and for a little while, you can almost pretend you’re alone. 
Almost. 
In the dark, your mind begins to have all sorts of thoughts, and you surprise yourself when words slip out of you; “I’m sorry for calling you dramatic today.”
The air feels thick and heavy, a few beats of silence passing that almost convince you Seungcheol’s asleep, but then, he responds. “I’m sorry for referring to our disagreement last night as ‘a fight’ when I talked to Jeonghan this morning.” 
“It’s okay,” you say quietly. 
For a short while, you think nothing else is going to be said, but then; “Goodnight y/n.”
You take a breath, wrapping yourself tighter in your blankets. “Goodnight, Cheol.” 
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CONTINUE READING PART 2 HERE I note. the fic was too long to be posted in one tumblr post 🤪
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© smileysuh — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.
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delulu-archives · 1 year ago
Text
Love Me Lights Out (Jeon Wonwoo x Reader)
Wonwoo shook the planet with his iconic MAMA 2019 entrance — blue hair, red robe, dark evil gaze, and soul-crushing voice. He held a different type of power that day, holding you like putty in his hands in total surrender.
His possessive side was on full display when a certain someone got a little too close to you during the intimate and private after-party.
This can be read as stand-alone fic but this happened within Love in Vinyl universe/timeline. I highly recommend you give that a read. 💜
Note: Wonwoo x producer!reader, smut, explicit smut, dom/sub themes, AU, established relationship, penetration, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, multiple big Os, unprotected sex, fluff, unedited, 18+ Series: Love in Vinyl Inspired by John Mayer's rendition of XO.
Ready for it? 'Cause I am. Dear reader, here is the next part of our Love in Vinyl series. Thank you for giving your love to LIV, darlings. Who wouldn't love to see Wonwoo's possessive side? Shameless, explicit smut, everyone. Some dom/sub themes, reader was weak and whipped for Wonwoo's gentle dominance. Plus some tooth-rotting fluff bonus ending. 😌💜 Yuletide and In the Soop 2 shots coming soon, darlings.
I pour my blood, sweat, tears, and delulu dusts to write this. Please help me protect my work while reaching more delulu darlings who may find escape here, too. 💜 Word count: 7,360 Cross-Posted on AO3
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Your love is bright as ever Even in the shadows Baby, kiss me Before they turn the lights out Your heart is glowing And I'm crashing into you Baby, kiss me kiss me Before they turn the lights out Before they turn the lights out Baby, love me lights out In the darkest night I'll search through the crowd, Your face is all that I see I'll give you everything Baby, love me lights out Baby, love me lights out We don't have forever Baby, daylight's wasting You better kiss me Before our time has run out Nobody sees what we see They're just hopelessly gazing Baby, take me take me Before they turn the lights out Before time has run out Baby, love me lights out I love you like XO You love me like XO You kill me, girl, XO You love me like XO In the darkest night I'll search through the crowd, Your face is all that I see I'll give you everything Baby, love me lights out You can turn my lights out
Manic. That's always your answer whenever junior producers ask you what awards shows are like based from your experience.
That year, you expected it to be different in various ways. 2019 was the year when K-Pop continued growing its footprint and reaching global scale, one group at a time. The year changed the trajectory of how k-pop was perceived and received especially with western audiences, and you saw it first hand.
Over the past six years, you had always been present behind the scene with BTS as they painstakingly conquered these awards shows, culminating their effort and hardwork during such tedious times. You shared tears and joys with them, especially during MAMA 2018 when they gave such powerful reminder on how tough the industry could be. Hoshi and Seungkwan even shared with you that they were fighting back tears especially when J-Hope started crying during the speech. You knew how much Seventeen could relate to BTS and you also saw how BTS also supported Seventeen during their starting years, given that their roots were alike - both groups were self-made, both were their respective company's saving grace. 
BTS used to practice in dank, murky practice room that was often flooded, while Seventeen used to tape regular earphones so they could have make-shift in-ear monitors during their first performances. Both groups conquered those adversaries, started from rock bottom and climbed their way to the top with Blood, Sweat, and Tears. You could not be more proud to see those groups you love shine in one stage once more. 
-
December was for awards shows and both sides of your coin were busy with their respective performances, with BTS ending their last leg of Love Yourself tour and Seventeen ending the first leg of their Ode to You tour. 
You were just supposed to just be in the audience that day, hoping to just enjoy and watch the show without working. You were excited to watch their performances after seeing glimpse of it during rehearsals and you really needed your break already. 
You requested the month off few months before, knowing just how restless the year was for you as part of the creatives team of these groups. While your job was mainly around their variety contents and documentaries, supporting touring groups also meant you were flying across the globe when needed, too. Apart from that, it was already apparent that the acquisition would be made formal and official the following year - it was long time coming. You already assumed backlash would happen and as someone who already faced such with BTS alone, the artists' welfare was always your top priority. Business decisions would be made, but you were determined to ensure that Seventeen would feel even more at home with your plans for the following year. You knew that the creatives and think-tank would be required to work twice as hard to ensure that contents and shows would be even grander both for the artists and the fans. 
Your supposed break during MAMA 2019, however, did not come into fruition. You received a call from one of BTS' senior producers a week prior and pleaded you to cover for him during the show to film and produce the behind the scene of the show for BTS. The producer had to take time off as his wife had to give birth prematurely and you did not have the heart to deny the request. So, you brought your work stuff along with you and flew to Nagoya two days prior the show without telling your boyfriend that he might just see you spinning in the backstage.
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Your call time for the show was at 7:00 AM. With various performances, it was pivotal to have everyone around and ready before the rehearsals and pre-show shoots commence. 
You arrived just in the nick of time, already huddled with your assigned camera directors and assistant producer to discuss how things should run. You spent the whole night reviewing the production guide sent to you and polishing it with the timelines of that day's show so there would be smoother coverage and to avoid causing too much distraction during the busy day. 
BTS arrived an hour later so they can prepare under their make-up chairs while the show floor directors were instructing everyone. You remained quietly hiding on the side, typing away and monitoring the footages being taken by one of your cameramen. Once the show's PD left, finally revealed youself earning a booming scream from Hoseok who was shocked to see you there. The team held you one by one, saying they missed you as the last time they saw you last was early October. 
"Happy birthday, WWH!" You greeted when Jin entered the dressing room after washing up. 
"Woaaah!! What are you doing here? Are you here to film? Waaah, you can't make me do silly things today it's my birthday." The man exclaimed, followed by his windshield wiper laugh and gave you a quick hug. 
Your presence was always familiar so being there was business as usual, seven years and counting. 
-
Wonwoo messaged you a little later saying that they were already on the way to the venue and that he was excited to see you in the audience. You spent the whole night talking on the phone with him thinking your flight was in the morning of that day. Little did he know, you were already in the venue working your ass off.
Nothing can ever match how loud Seventeen is. When they arrived, everyone knew it was them, hollering in the background as they greeted everyone with such bright, contagious energy and entered their dressing room across BTS'. 
You excused yourself from your team so you can greet your other family, silently walking towards their dressing room, index finger on your lips to shush the others who saw you to stay quiet as you approached your blue-haired man leaning against the door frame. He was busy typing on his phone, eyes still heavy as he rubbed them while yawning. Your phone vibrated and a messaged flashed on the screen.
"We're here, baby. See you later."
You held back a chuckle. Finally standing behind him, you answered his message by muttering a cheerful, "I know."
Wonwoo turned in a flash, eyes widening and hand covering his mouth when he saw you standing there. "Woah!" 
"Good morning, babe." Wide smile painted your face at his reaction.
"H-how?" He inquired, heart fluttering at your presence as he held your hand and pulled you inside the dressing room, waving at the other members who were also surprised you were there.
"Had to cover for a PD due to an emergency."
"I thought you would be in the audience!" He spoke softly, shoulders drooping slightly when he finally engulfed you in a tight hug after a week of not seeing each other.
You just chuckled when he asked you a week prior why you did not book the same hotel as them, and you just made up some silly excuse saying it was for the whole 'audience' experience. They were in the same hotel with BTS and some other artists, and you were just in the hotel a block away, essentially cooped up in your room to avoid running into anyone of them before your surprise. 
"I missed you. I am happy you're here."
"I missed you too."
You returned his hug and stole a quick peck on his lips while everyone was busy. "I'll still be in the audience once you're on stage." You winked at him and his heartthrob smile widened as he let you go. 
"I'll look for you in the crowd, baby. I'll have my eyes on you alone."
He smirked.
Dangerously.
-
Seventeen was part of the last artists to perform, with only two performances between them and BTS. It gave you ample time to get a camera so you can go where the camera directors in front of the main stage were and watch Seventeen's performance, as promised.
Shivers ran down your spine at the chilling entrance, even when they hadn't even started the performance yet. You saw them rehearse couple of times, but somehow, everything felt new. The crowd went wild with ear splitting screams when the music finally started. 
It was a dark opening, hooded figures in red with one person on the spotlight - Wonwoo. Despite his robe, you could see his broad shoulders and notice the way he ascended the stairs with such a different vibe and aura especially when he pulled down the hood, revealing himself.
You saw that in rehearsals, but somehow you were taken into another world. His eyes were cold as ice, staring sharply into the audience as he bit and crushed the candied rose. He held an intense gaze as he devoured the intro with his deep, raspy voice, officially opening their ensemble. 
Wonwoo captured your attention throughout the whole performance effortlessly, even meeting his eyes from time to time as he smirked at you. You were helplessly drawn to his magnetic aura and familiar warmth and sensation filled your body. He was scrochingly and devilishly handsome as they broke the stage.
When their performance ended, Wonwoo saw you backstage gave you yet another salacious smirk as he retreated to the dressing room.
Such power he held over you.
Two bottles of ice-cold water did nothing to quench your unexplainable thirst.
-
To say that you were on an emotional high during the show was an understatement. You were ecstatic over the wins of BTS and Seventeen, quite teary even, because you had seen just how massive their successes were which were all very much deserved after their years and years of hardwork. Then, you were blown away by their performances, and of course, your boyfriend's stage presence.
After the award show, Jungkook and Mingyu hosted and organised an intimate and private party, and BTS, SVT, and only very few other groups and colleagues were there. 
After freshening up in your hotel, you arrived at the luxurious and private roof deck bar where the party was, donning a simple black dress and a pair of comfortable heels. It was rare for them to see you all glammed up, given that as a PD, you were constantly in sneakers and comfortable clothing so running around was easier. Wonwoo could not wipe the smile off his face upon seeing you all dressed up for the party, as if mesmerized by you.
BTS, Seventeen, and some of their friends mingled and drank merrily. Jungkook and Mingyu were goofing around like bunch of kids. Yoongi and Woozi were talking about music looking like twins. Joshua, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol were with Taehyung and Jimin catching up while the others were chilling or catching up with the staff members. It was a joy to see them like that, even Wonwoo was laughing around and comfortable with them.
You noticed however that birthday boy was quiet in the corner of the banquet. Being an introvert, Jin had always found social gatherings quite daunting, just like your boyfriend. 
While Wonwoo was busy with his members, you joined Jin by the corner of the banquet hall, drinking your second glass of margarita that day. 
"Why are you not socializing? It's supposed to be your birthday." 
Jin just shook his head and laughed, saying it was not his forte. And you understood that. You spent some time catching up with him until Jimin approached you, pulling the two of you to the floor to dance. 
"I am so tired, Jimin.." you complained but the man just smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist. 
"Just one song!" He insisted, twirling you around. 
Jimin always had that flirtatious flair with everything he does. It was not as though he was flirting with you blatantly, but he always liked making you blush for sure. 
"I heard you have a boyfriend, Y/N." His full lips curled up into a smirk as if pleased to have caught you off guard.
"Why? Were you surprised?" 
"Mhm, you could say that. You denied me once before." Jimin teased, reminding you of his attempt to woo you years back, and it made you throw your head and chuckle. 
"We were too young then."
Jimin just smirked and nodded pulling you closer as you danced with your other friends before you finally freed your self about a minute or two later.
From a distance, though, Wonwoo was intently observing at how Jimin was looking at you, and he did not like it at all. His gaze was poisonous, lethal, even.
-
You joined the group where your boyfriend was and he immediately looped his arm around your waist and drew you against his side as if showcasing that you were his. 
"Hi love," he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead which took you aback. He never was that comfortable doing that in front of others before, but you could not deny that the bold gesture made your heart flutter.
"Hey. You drank a lot already." 
"No, not yet." He smirked down at you, his attention solely on you as he rubbed your back gently. "You having fun? Or are you tired and want to go home?"
One of the many things you love about Wonwoo is that he is always sensible. He has always been sensitive about how you are feeling because he pays attention to you and somehow naturally senses how you feel. 
You smiled up at him and pressed your body closer to him.
"Maybe we can leave earlier? You had a long day." He added, tucking a strand of your loose hair behind your ear and caressing your face. Such unusual gesture from him, especially in front of your friends and other people though they were busy. At one point however, Wonwoo shifted his gaze and you were in the right mind to follow its direction. That was when you finally realized it - Wonwoo was looking at Jimin who was watching the two of you, and he was asserting his edge on the situation. Your boyfriend's innate possessive side got triggered with how flirty Jimin was with you earlier, one thing you should've considered sooner.
"I'd love that." You answered, wrapping your arm around his back as well, as if a silent reminder to ease the building storm inside him.
Few moments later, you had to excuse yourself so you can go to the empty ladies room, only for Wonwoo to tail behind you quietly.
Wonwoo stood up from the leaned position he was in against the wall as he waited and walked up to you when you left that bathroom. He placed his hands on your shoulders slightly and pushed you playfully back inside, guiding you into a cubicle, locking the door behind you as he snaked his hands over the fabric of your dress, placing his forehead lightly against yours.
"Hey! We might get caught!" You shushed, looking him with wide eyes as your knees wobbled from his gentle teasing.
"Don't pretend like you don't know I've wanted to get you alone since this morning." He whispered softly as he placed a trail of kisses over your skin, from your cheeks and down your neck before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. "And it seems like it's not just me who wants you." His voice muffled against his demanding kiss which made you melt against his arms which were looped around you possessively.
"What are you talking about?" 
"Come on, babe. You know what I am talking about." He growled under his breath, chasing your lips for more when you started pulling away slightly, pressing your hands against his chest.
"Baby. Babe... listen."
He just gave you a cheeky smirk, chuckling at the worried look on your face as you wiped your smeared lipstick off his lips.
"Hm?"
"Wonwoo."
He arched his brow, "What?" 
"It's too risky here!" You basically pleaded, arms wrapping around his shoulders, caressing the back of his neck. Nodding and surrending, he pecked your lips hard one last time before pulling away.
Wonwoo understood. Despite being open about your relationship among your friends and colleagues, your number one goal was to avoid any rumour or scandal especially that you were not within your private space where you can do anything you want.
"I'll go first. You need to fix your lipstick." He teased, opening the door of the cubicle for you.
"Yeah, thanks for that."
You rolled you eyes and watched him check the corridor to ensure the coast was clear before leaving you in the ladies room and returning to the banquet.
Releasing the pent-up breath you had been holding, you fanned yourself and looked at your flushed face and messed-up makeup from the mirror.
You were unsure what your boyfriend consumed that day that made him ever brazen. 
Maybe it was the rose. 
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After trying your best to retouch post the encounter in the bathroom, you joined the group, sitting beside your boyfriend who was already yawning. One by one the people were already dispersing so Wonwoo took that opportunity to say goodbye, and you also did. You greeted and hugged everyone, including Jimin, who held you a little tighter as if trying to provoke Wonwoo even more with his playful antics. You knew it was nothing but you pulled away and shook your head at him. 
"Let's go, Y/N." Wonwoo held out his hand and twined it with yours, and, despite the stern expression of his face, gave Jimin a courteous nod.
One of their managers and a security personnel were assigned to drive you back to the hotel where they were staying, and you were really impressed by the level of security and privacy hotels like that offered. 
"We need to book another room, I share with Mingyu." Wonwoo spoke when you settled inside the car. 
You smirked at him, waved your spare keycard, and gave it to him. "Done."
You somehow expected this even before the show, so you also paid for a room reservation online a day before your arrival, and checked in a few things there before going to your other hotel. You checked out of the hotel you stayed in and transferred some of your belongings to your room in their hotel before heading to the party that night. 
Smirking in delight, he took the keycard and leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, "That's my good girl."
-
You entered the hotel separately with him guided to his room by his manager and you going straight into yours. You gave him the spare keycard anyway in case he decides to visit you, which you were looking forward to, if you were being completely honest. 
When you entered your room, you quickly went to the bathroom to run the hot water for a much needed shower after that long day of work. 
You turned the shower on and adjusted the setting, running your hands under the cascading water to check the temperature. Almost immediately, your whole body ached to feel the soothing warm water and you even hummed in excitement. 
Turning to undress, you jumped upon seeing your boyfriend by the door of the bathroom, eyes dark and wanting as he watched you. 
"What the hell, Wonwoo! You'd give me a heart attack!" You exclaimed, clutching your chest while he only grinned at you. 
Mischief and danger hid behind that smile he gave as he locked the bathroom door and stood behind you, meeting your gaze in the slightly fogged up mirror. 
"Let me help you with that," He mumbled under his breath as lips hovered against your skin when he took the clasp of the necklace you were removing form your hand. 
All the while, he was staring intently at you, his usual warm almond eyes were sharp and a lopsided smirk tugged against the corner of his lips. He was teasing you, playing with fire and fuelling yours. 
He reached behind you and placed the necklace on the countertop, bracing himself against the cold marble and caging you in between his arms. 
Then, he crashed his lips against yours, roughly, like he never did before.
Your knees were weak and as if under a spell, you were in complete surrender, wrapping your arms around him when he tilted your head by your chin and plundered your mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss and making you want more. 
Whimpers left your lips when he sucked your lower lip then pulled away with a loud smacking sound. 
"Take your clothes off for me, baby." He ordered, stepping back and watching you. "Go on, don't make me wait.
Those words coming from such perfect face and deep voice, were hypnotizing enough, making you obey without a word. Still looking at his eyes, you fiddled the hem of your dress and peeled it off, leaving you in your matching light blue undergarments. 
"Seems like you've been waiting for me all day, too, love." He growled at the sight of you in his favourite colour, seizing you against his body before and tracing kisses down to the valleys of your breasts and then towards your lips once again. 
"Now be a good girl and undress me." He mumbled against your lips, not letting you go as you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his body. Then, you worked on his belt, button, and zipper, letting his pants pool into his feet which he quickly kicked away.
He shoved you inside the glass partition under the shower head with your body glued together, his lips finding purchase against your skin, making your core throb with a familiar ache. 
Wonwoo pinned you against the cold, tiled wall and snaked his hand inside your panties, feeling your wet, warm core as his middle and ring fingers circled your sensitive nub. He was eager. As if wanting to prove something with his sudden brute force.
"My needy girl... so wet and I haven't even done anything..." 
"W-wonwoo -" You stuttered, gripping against his biceps trying to steady yourself from his sudden teasing.
"Who are you this wet for, Y/N?"
You whimpered when he paused, making your knees buckle and thigh press together. 
"Baby please..." 
"So needy..." He growled, using his other hand to dip and pull a cup of your bra, and then sucked your taut, aching nipple. 
"S-shit!"
"Mmm."
You quivered, eyes closed as you tried keeping your pleasure at bay, which was impossible when his fingers started teasing your slit with gentle strokes towards your clit.
"Look at me in the eyes and tell me who this is for..." 
You met his lustful gaze and gulped, "Y-you." 
"Say it... say who makes you shiver with need." He licked his lower lip as he pressed his fingers against your pulsating clit. He was enjoying his power play, you could see the way his eyes darkened as you shivered from his relentless teasing.
"Wonwoo... you Wonwoo... Please."
"Yeah... I am the only one that can make you this wet and needy, right?"
"Yes, just you..." You nodded eagerly, closing your eyes and crying out as he went down on his knees, ripped your panties, and finally devoured your aching, dripping core as water cascaded against your bodies. 
"My good girl... don't hold back, baby, let me hear you." 
He did not need to tell you. Moans and whimpers left your lips at his expert teasing, sucking and licking your sensitive bud. His tongue lapped at your core, tracing your entrance repeatedly and then drawing figure-eights against your clit while pushing his fingers inside you, curling and searching for that erogenous zone that always made you squirm in pleasure.
His moans were muffled against your sex when your climax coursed through your body quicker than you anticipated, making you nearly lose your balance as you cried out his name.
"Fucking hell..." You slurred, catching your breath and steadying yourself from the sudden outburst of pleasure. 
Wonwoo looked pleased - he had his proud smile when he rose and kissed you, squeezing your ass and pressing your close to him. 
"We're not done yet." He said with such ease before ever so casually reaching for the shampoo bottle and started washing your bodies as you came down from your high. 
Wonwoo lathered your shower gel against your body in the most sensual, teasing way possible. His hand glided through your skin, massaged your breasts and tweaked your nipples, and caressed down to your stomach, your core, and your aching limbs. Every second was intentional seduction, keeping you on the verge with desire.
He allowed you to do the same, palming his whole body down to his hard shaft, pumping him up and down with your soapy hand which made him twitch against your touch until he could take it no longer. He rinsed your bodies with such urgency and once done, pushed your naked body towards the room and the bed. 
"Sit." He commanded. Droplets of water trickled against your skin from your still soaked hair as he stood before you and as you pat your body with a towel, then squeezed water from your hair. 
He took the towel from you and threw it away, then grabbed your hair to force your head upwards when he leaned in to ravage your mouth with ardent kisses.
Need once again simmered inside you and you reached out for him, wanting to feel him closer and relieve whatever ache he was causing. He drew away and stood in between your legs, his shaft standing long and hard in front of you. 
"See what you do to me, Y/N?" He asked, holding the back of your head as you looked up at him and nodded. Your mouth watered at the sight of his beautiful, perfect cock all erect for you. Your core throbbed, needing him so bad.
"Let me see what your pretty little mouth can do."
You normally know what to say but seeing his dominant side made you tongue-tied. While there were rough encounters since your first time, Wonwoo rarely talked in such a manner. He was always a man of few words but eager actions, even in bed. He rarely even cursed but he seemed to do whenever you were in the throes of passion. This time showed a side of him you were already becoming drawn to, evident with the way you seem to surrender under his control so easily.
Eyes peering at him, you licked his polished length from base to tip, running your tongue around the bulbous head of his sizable cock. You slowly took him deep inside your warm mouth, eliciting a loud groan from him.
"Fuck, that's my good girl..." He moaned, looking down at you and pushing your head further down his length so you can take him deeper. "More baby... let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours..."
Carnal desire awakened inside him when he saw you like that, both hands gripping the base and massaging his sacs, as he hit your throat while you bob your head up and down his needy cock. Your eyes watered as you gagged, but it only seemed to further entice him. He tightened his grip on your hair as he increased the pace, your eyes still focused on him as you heed his commands. 
"You look so good taking me like that, letting me fuck your mouth... ah such good girl." He panted for air, hips thrusting one last time before pulling away. Watching you wipe your mouth, he beckoned you to stand and kissed you before turning you around to face the bed.
"On your hands and knees for me, baby." He mumbled, lips brushing against your ear as he shoved you flat in your tummy back into the bed.
In a blink, you were on all fours in the middle of the bed, heart racing and eagerly ancipating his next move, until a loud, hard spank landed on your ass sending you reeling forward from the impact.
"WON - ah!" 
You yelped at the tingling sensation, both pain and pleasure present at the unexpected action, making you bury your face against the cloudlike pillows. Your mind was still processing the flicker of pain and pleasure, when the bed dipped and you felt fevered kisses against your shoulders, tracing down to your spine, and towards your still numb and tingling rear. 
Wonwoo kept complete focus on you and your pleasure as he parted your knees and his tongue swirled and danced around your clit, feeling you move against him as he continued to bury his face between your thighs and grip your rear. A few more teasing motions with his tongue against your pleasure spots, he dove his tongue between your folds, exploring the depth of your core as your essence ran down his mouth like an addicting nectar. His forcefulness built as he pulled you closer towards his mouth, earning whimpers of his name to escape your lips, muffled by the soft sheets you were biting into.
"I want everyone to know you're mine." He stated again as he continued to taste you against his tongue, fingers stimulating your core until you were trembling once more.
The pleasure and his eagerness were slowly driving you over the edge, getting closer and closer to that glorious climax... until he pulled away.
"Wonwoo fuck!" Intense ache throbbed inside you at the unfulfilled bliss that was still at bay when he hauled you once again, yanking your weak body until you were on your back. 
Wonwoo grinned down at you, running his hand over your body, tweaking your nipples while the other thumbed your engorged bundle of nerves.
"Won- hurts... mm... need to..." You arched your body against his touch as needs boiled inside you, aching for that high only he can provide.
He watched you so weak for pleasure under him, but he wanted so much more. He lifted one of your legs and placed dove-like kisses on your shin and down to the inside of your thighs. You jolted.
"Please... baby..." 
"What do you want?" His lips hovered on your navel as he looked up at you. "You have to tell me..."
You swallowed the tears pooling in your throat, trying to hold out as much as you can, "I want... need you to... make me cum... please..."
He smirked. "That's my good girl." 
Wonwoo dove to your core once more, fingers slipping inside your soaked cave and began to massage your sweet spots as his tongue continued to flick in quick motions against your clit. He would only be satisfied until he felt you shaking and making a mess of the silk linens that adorned the bed. His eyes looked up at you overcome with pleasure, a view that he would never tire of. 
"Oh, baby... please mm.. so close..."
Your sounds of encouragement was music to his ears as you wriggled at his actions, feeling your core seeping with excitement over his fingers and dripping down his knuckles as he kept his consistent pace. Your legs delicately wrapping around his broad shoulders built anticipation as he craved to watch you explode in pleasure once more. 
"Give it to me, baby." He growled, stroking that velvety spot inside your walls eagerly.
"W-WONWOO —" 
You wailed and convulsed as a ferocious orgasm rocked through your body, the extent of your bliss filling you from head to toe. 
"Holy... fuck!"
My good girl... you came so hard..."
Wonwoo filled your face with kisses as you came down from your high, hovering over you in between your thighs and wrapping them around his hips. He shifted the both of you to your side facing each other, with his arm supporting your head safely. He eliminated the space between your bodies and kept your legs around him, gripping your rear as he kissed you fervently. 
"You're mine." He declared, staring intently at you and caressing your face. While his eyes were still dark with lust, you saw a twinkle of affection and unadulterated emotions behind them that made your stomach flutter.
"Say it baby... that you are mine and no one else's."
"I am yours, Jeon Wonwoo. Only yours."
He smiled at the certainty in your voice. There was never a doubt about it, but Wonwoo always loved hearing you say it and you always loved reminding him. Unable to wait any longer, he kissed you, lined himself in your heated entrance, and sank in deep.
And raw. 
For the first time ever. 
You nearly lost your mind. 
You never thought making love with Wonwoo could be any more indescribable, but here you were, feeling every ridge and friction of his perfect manhood as he stretched and filled you raw over and over again.
"Fuck so tight... my sweet pussy... mine..." He crooned in his euphoric state, eyes closed as he gripped your rear and bucked, pushing himself impossibly deep inside your hot core. "You're mine, Y/N...just mine... Jimin can never have you... no one else can... mine..."
You drew away slightly to watch him, pondering on his words until you realized it. There was jealousy in the mix. While it has been a while since your last intimate encounter leading to pent up needs, his possessive side was also on an all-time high that day, hence, the dominance and the power play. It sent electric shock to your core watching him take you and hold you possessively - his eyes closed, brows knitted, and lips agape. He looked so good it should be illegal.
"I am yours, just yours Wonwoo." You whispered and kissed him lovingly, pouring out your emotions in that exchange. His pace increased as the slapping of your skin, the squelching of his cock, and the sounds of your groans and whimpers created music against the night. 
You were in sync - mind, body, heart, and soul.
"I will fill you up so good, baby." 
"Ugh yes - please... fuck me..."
Wonwoo savoured the feeling of your hot, velvety walls clamping around him without barriers as he hammered into you. His fingers buried against the soft flesh of your rear, squeezing you hard as he guided you to meet his every thrust.
"You want it, baby? You me to fuck you... full?" 
His words were broken up between lowly moans against your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, his hips slowing down and sensually rolling so he could feel every inch that he filled inside of you. His thrusts became slightly rougher as he pounded himself inside of you deeply, as if carving every inch of your walls as his. "Will fuck you so good baby... fill you up..."
Your body arched, revelling at the feeling of his huge length inside you, earning a loud moan as he took you wholly. He watched you lean back and as you did so one of his hands gripped your breasts, pinching and pulling on your erect buds while he wrapped his lips around the other, suckling and wanting to satisfy and please you as he picked up the pace. 
"Wonwoo... I'm... ugh—" He landed another harsh smack against your ass sending a zing of pleasure straight to your core. 
"Go on, baby. Be a good girl and make a mess for me." He hushed as he trailed open mouthed kisses against your neck and jawline and then your lips, tongue delving inside your mouth. 
Wonwoo jerked his hips, pulled away completely and then breached your walls again. Hard. He flicked your clit with his fingers and orgasm blasted through you, scorching every single cell of your body.
You moaned his name, again and again, clinging onto him as his flesh continued ramming inside you while your walls molded around him tighter and tighter with your release.
"One more, baby. I want more." Wonwoo stiffled against your skin, as he bit and nibbled the sweet spots on your neck and collarbone. The feeling of your walls around him skin to skin, was like a drug to him, or a craving that he never knew he had all along making him greedy for more. 
"Fuck... c-can't baby." You whimpered, high and overstimulated as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. 
"Yes you can. For me... yeah? Come for me once more... you can do it, baby."
Wonwoo purred, pushing you on your back, your hips propped up on a pillow as he knelt caged between your thighs and impaled you once more with a hard, determined thrust. Your drenched core coated his cock, making it even easier for him to glide in and out of you, no matter how tight you were. The in-drawing sensation of your pussy was driving him insane. 
Sheen layer of sweat coated your bodies as you both panted and trembled, your legs wrapped around him and your nails raked against his back while he slammed his hips vigorously, urging both of your release.
"Fuck... my good girl... mm... gonna fill you up..."
"Won- "
"Mine..." He cupped your face and tilted your head so you can look at him in the eyes as he pummeled into you. "I love you... so much."
"Yours, yours... I love you so... much..." You whispered in between puffs of air, tears rolling against your cheek as he snapped his hips faster and rougher, making you cry louder. "Want your -"
"Yes, yes, baby... my good girl. You want me to cum?" He asked, nuzzling and groaning against your neck as you squeezed him in, a foretaste of your impending orgasm. "Tell me.. tell me you want me to cum..."
"I want...you...to cum for me..." You mewled. 
"Yes, yes, yes!"
Wonwoo kept his pace until his hips stuttered and his cock swelled deep inside you, painting your walls with his thick, hot cum, wailing your name as his body collapsed with the mind-numbing pleasure. Your walls pulsated around him, clamping him in and milking every last drop of his release as you let him bask in his orgasm. "Yes, baby. Take it... Take my cum..." Wonwoo grunted drunkenly, feeling you so close to your release and when he buried his cock deeper with his remaining strength, you finally erupted with a loud wonton cry of ecstacy, toes curling and body shuddering under his weight.
"Wonwoo! Fuck yes! Fuck baby—" You weren't sure how it was possible, but your climax was even longer this time, all-consuming and earth-shattering and Wonwoo felt it rocking through him as you spasmed around him. 
"That's it, baby...that's it..." He stiffled against your skin, fingers working on your clit as you surfed the wave of your climax, until you both came down from your glorious high, fully spent and satiated.
Wonwoo kissed you gently as he pulled away, cradling you in his arms softly, protectively when you whined at the empty feeling. "I love you so much... so good to me... let me take care of you, baby.." You could only hum and smile against the kiss. 
You weren't sure what was happening few moments later - you were sore, overstimulated, and nearly unconscious. You reckoned you could feel him inside you for days. The next thing you knew, Wonwoo was parting your thighs, wiping your core gently with a warm, damp towel as he let you rest and catch your breath.
"We n-need shower... messy..." You mumbled, and he just chuckled at your state. 
"Can you even walk, baby?" 
"Hmm, I can. I just need some time."
He crawled towards the bed by your side and cradled your head under his arms and that was when you got to admire how utterly flawless he looked — skin glowing, tips of his nose and ears pink, lips plump and red, blue hair all messed up, and his neck and chest sweat-clad. 
"I love you and your jealous ass." You declared, flicking his nose gently. "You know that, right?" 
"I do. I love you." He nodded and cupped your face to peck your lips. "Sorry, love. Was I too rough?"
You hummed, looping an arm around him, "Hhmm. It's all good. I kinda liked it."
Wonwoo smirked at you, pleased with himself, and drew you closer, snuggling and savouring the post-coital bliss. 
Before the night ended, you found yourselves back in the shower, making yet another mess and screaming each other's name. 
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BONUS:
It was a random decision on your end. You really weren't supposed to be in the studio as you were on a break which was long overdue, but you were bored and you hadn't seen Wonwoo for about a week. So, you decided to whip up some surprise and buy snacks to surprise the members and the team during the filming of SeungKwan Boo's Past Life Destiny for Going Seventeen 2020. 
The team were gathered in a circle when you entered discreetly, all of them still huddled and finding their partners. Hiding with the staff members behind the camera, you saw your boyfriend being rejected several times, with the members teasing him that he doesn't need a partner because he has you anyway. Wonwoo looked extra cuddly that day with his white turtle neck shirt and knitted navy sweaters. He seemingly had high energy, too, like one of the junior producers told you. You loved seeing him like that, playful and excited. 
However, you started sensing Wonwoo's slight unease and discomfort after few more failed rounds, and even the head PD that daysaw it, too. So, when he was finally on the chair as the last member to match, the PD requested you to surprise him to lift his mood back up. It was never something you would do during filming, but you felt it was needed that day.
You emerged from behind the cameras and quietly approached him, earning excited reactions from the team. 
"No peeking yet, hyung!" Seungkwan exclaimed, with such contagious excitement, standing next to Wonwoo and ensuring he wouldn't turn around just yet.
"Waaah, nice Wonwoo-hyung!" The members cheered and hooted, making Wonwoo even more curious as to who actually came to be his partner.
"Why? Do I have many admirers?" Your boyfriend joked, then turned around, gasping in surprise and delight when saw you beaming and reaching out your hand to him. 
"Waaaah!! When did you get here?!" Wonwoo marvelled, nearly falling off the chair while taking your hand and engulfing you in a hug as everyone cheered. You just chuckled and rubbed his back. He held you tight and breathed you in, immediately soothing whatever discomfort he was feeling. 
"I bought you guys food." You smiled at him and pushed him back on the chair to resume the filming. He smiled brightly at you, blood rushing to his cheeks as he nodded and finally let you go. 
Knowing you were there and right on time as always, his battery became fully-charged once again. 
You are there for him, in his brightest days or darkest nights.
And he loves you, in his brightest and darkest moments, too.
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btscontentenjoyer · 1 year ago
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BTS Summer Fic Recs
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Here are some summer fanfic recommendations if you need something to read on the beach, by the pool, or just in your room while you're trying to escape the heat! If you enjoy any of these stories, please don't forget to let the author know by reblogging and leaving feedback. Most of these stories contain smut or other mature themes so MINORS DNI!
kim namjoon
solace by @m-yg93 (13.5k) fluff/smut
[roommates to lovers]
summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.
kim seokjin
all you’re giving me is friction by @hot-soop (28.3k) angst/smut/fluff
[surfer!seokjin x lifeguard!f.reader, lovers to enemies (lite) to lovers]
summary: You’ve graduated! Congratulations - you’ve got one thing checked off your parents ten year plan! Now all that’s left to do is start your dreary office job, drag yourself up the ladder to CEO, marry your (as yet unknown) dream guy, and carve out some time to pop out a few kids before your ovaries shrivel up… Except all of that sounds horrendous, and you’d much rather spend the next three months at Hoseok’s beach house with your closest friends - relaxing, partying, and sleeping late while you still can. And it would be your last perfect summer break, if it weren’t for the most irritating man on the planet (and his chickens) living next door.
min yoongi
the landlord by @ppersonna (4.3k) smut/light crack/pwp
[landlord!yoongi]
summary: your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave.  good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.
watermelon sugar by @yoonjinkooked (23k) smut/romcom
[strangers to lovers, vacation au]
summary: Travelling alone to your dream destination had sounded like a good idea at the time. And you don’t regret doing it, of course not - you’re in Greece! The food! The sun! The smell of the sea! The white walls and blue chairs, the hills, the warm days and colder nights. A little company wouldn’t hurt, though. That’s how you end up talking to Min Yoongi, your next door neighbour with whom you practically share a balcony. He’s quiet, he barely leaves his room but when you reach out, he doesn’t push you away. That’s how your Greek adventure begins.
jung hoseok
strawberry sundae by @youtifulhobi (6k) fluff
[lifeguard!hoseok x olympian swimmer!reader, meet cute]
summary: A few years after you begin dating Jung Hoseok, the two of you reminisce about how you met when he was a lifeguard and saved you from drowning, when in reality you had just fell off your strawberry floatie and he just wanted to talk to you.
a taste of paradise by @theharrowing (8k) light angst/smut
[strangers to lovers, chance encounters]
summary: A handsome stranger helps take your mind off of all of the drama that awaits you back home. It is bittersweet, isn’t it, how a chance encounter that makes you feel so good can also just leave you craving more.
park jimin
i need you tonight by @minisugakoobies (1.5k) smut/slight angst?
[pool boy!jimin]
summary: You’re tired of watching your evil stepmom waste your father’s money. So you steal one of her toys.
you dtf? by @sailoryooons (10.2k) smut/pwp
[strangers to one-night stand]
summary:  You’ve never had a one night stand. Jimin has had countless. You’re trying to experience new things. Jimin loves doing the same old shit. So when you meet the man going around the club inviting people to touch his ripped abs, you think perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to try new things. It’s Labor Day weekend at the shore - what can go wrong?
into the wilderness by @gukyi (27k) angst/fluff/comedy
[friends to lovers, camp counsellor au, unrequited love]
summary: alright, so last summer’s camp was… disastrous. from the murky green showers to the wasps nests, it was all-around a bad time. but none of those things could be quite as catastrophic as the end-of-camp counselor campfire, when you told park jimin that you were in love with him. and if telling him was terrible, then seeing him again this summer, one year after your fruitless confession, just might be the death of you.
kim taehyung
summer feelings by @jjkeverlast (558) fluff/crack
[childhood best friends to lovers]
summary: taehyung catches you off guard during your first trip to the beach.
himbo hours by @gimmethatagustd (7k) pwp/smut/humor
[himbo!taehyung x reader, strangers to lovers]
summary: Trouble always seems to follow Taehyung. An innocent night of finding new friends to share his alcohol, drugs, and boxy smiles quickly turns into a mess when he accidentally punches you, a poor, unsuspecting clubgoer, right in the face. Whoops!
trip by @daechwitatamic (22k) fluff
[friends to lovers, camping au]
summary: Your gigantic crush on Kim Taehyung is so bad that you drop whatever you’re holding every time he speaks to you. Your dirty liar of a best friend SWORE to you he wouldn’t be on this camping trip, but he is. Luckily, the trip gives Taehyung the chance to see you in a new light, admittedly with some help from his best friend (and definitely hired spy) Park Jimin.
jeon jungkook
in which sour and salt could be so sweet when jungkook’s existence reminds you that there is still good in the world. by @onlyswan (3.1k) fluff/a pinch of angst/suggestive
[established relationship]
baecation by @1kook (5.9k) smut
[richboy!jungkook, vacation au]
summary: “Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.
heartless by @here2bbtstrash (7.4k) pwp/smut
[exes hooking up]
summary: after a wild summer at the shore where he made more than a few mistakes, jungkook is ready to remind you why you always take him back.
no longer strangers by @soft4gguk (9.4k) fluff/smut
[jungkook x inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers, summer love au]
at the end of the day by @starshapedkookie (13.3k) fluff/smut/a little angst
[ex-baseball player!jungkook, high school friends to lovers, beach/vacation au]
summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends for 8 years, going through absolute hell and back together. After senior year of high school, you and Jungkook began a tradition of taking annual vacations together during the summer months. This summer is no different, with you and Jungkook celebrating graduating college just a couple months prior. You're set to move to NYC after the summer, with you and Jungkook soaking in the sun and as many moments as you can together. You'd think nothing could ever tear your friendship apart with him, but when you've sat on the beach for too many days in a row watching him surf, you can't help but wonder - when did your best friend get so hot?
lemon sherbet by @extravaguk (15k) fluff/smut/angst
[tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook x popular!reader, ex high school classmates, kinda frenemies to lovers, summer au]
summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
concrete king by @bratkook (16.7k) fluff/smut
[skaterboy!jungkook x reader, himbo energy]
summary: when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there’s no way you could ever say no to him
ex on the beach by @beahae (mini-series, 18.2k) fluff/light angst/smut
[exes to lovers]
summary: You and Jungkook broke up. But it would be very silly of you to let the fancy beach vacation you both won go to waste, right?
stars behind waves by @taegularities (22.7k) angst/fluff/smut
[estranged childhood best friends to lovers, beach/vacation au]
summary: With a decade’s distance between Jungkook and you, your paths cross on the same island you deemed your second home years ago. And you realise once again – the ocean can never compare to the twinkle in his starry eyes.
paddle with me by @yoongsgguktae (two-shot, 30k) angst/smut
[enemies to lovers, camp counsellor au]
summary: when your camp leader forces you and jeongguk as partners in a team building activity. with frustrations and anger flaring during your journey down the river, how will all this pent-up emotion get released?
Thank you so much for taking the time to check out my list! I read some of these stories while on vacation this year, and some have stayed with me for a while since I read them last summer. If anyone has more summery recommendations, I'd love to hear them, so don't be afraid to put them in the comments or send me an ask <3
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