#doh kyungsoo fic

[exouniverse]

can I request a prince!kyungsoo × peasant!oc please??? maybe something kinda angst but still fluff. u deciiide 💘

Tightrope

Pairing: prince!kyungsoo x peasant!oc

Genre: angst, fluff, royal au, lgbtqia+

Warnings: violence, mental health depictions + other warnings to apply in the next chapters. If there is any other warning that I missed, please let me know to add it.

Summary (for this chapter): Abiding by his father's orders, Prince Kyungsoo spies on the wandering troupe's spring festival performance. He finds himself drawn to their performance, especially that of the acrobat on the tightrope, growing curious about the troupe's true intentions.

Word count: 3,321

A/N: It took a long time but here is the very first chapter. Thank you so much, anon, for this request. My imagination has been running wild with this series. You probably asked for a one-shot, but this type of story called for a multi-chaptered development.

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD | MEDIA | AO3 | CHAPTER 2

Chapter 1: Duty vs. Desire

A flock of birds guided the townspeople to the outskirts of the forest, along with the sound of the drums that the troupe performers played among the crowd. As the sun set, vibrant, colorful banners and glowing lanterns began decorating the woods, illuminating the glade where the famous wandering troupe had settled for the performance to celebrate the start of spring.

Families and friends strolled along, arms linked and laughing harmoniously. People of all ages wandered with curious eyes and joyful smiles as the resonating sound of drums initiated an anticipatory beat coinciding with the growing excitement of the gathered multitude. Just when the chatter intensified, the fireflies above began to twinkle. Sparkling eyes witnessed how the tiny bugs added a magical ambiance to the night.

A sole figure leaped out from the shadows of the tree boughs, landing with a dramatic flair and a bowed head at the center of the clearing, opening the act. The acrobat’s impressive skills and graceful movements captured the undivided attention of the audience. A discreet pair of eyes that carefully observed from the shadows were especially mesmerized. The pull was so strong that the entrances and changes of the performers, as well as the details about them, started slowly fading away.

Prince Kyungsoo’s breath caught in his throat, his gaze transfixed on the performance unfolding before him. The acrobat’s maneuvers drew him in like a hypnotist as he lingered uneasily at the tree line, torn between duty and curiosity. The spell broke once more acrobats made their entrance, and the first one disappeared back into the shadows. He was only abiding by his father’s orders to spy on the wandering troupe that the people seemed to love, searching for signs of dissent against the crown. However, the artistry that the troupe showed in their movements, combined with the music and their comedic theatrics, started to distract him from his mission.

Taking flight on the tightrope, the acrobat who started the performance reappeared. Kyungsoo felt himself drawn in, taking step after step forward, getting closer and closer. The acrobat moved as if dancing on air. A serene smile under the elaborate mask evidenced the elegant artistry of his movements. There was an undeniable sense of fearlessness that defined his craft. It was contagious, and Kyungsoo discovered a feeling he didn’t quite understand stirring within.

The prince felt his inner balance waver; the sense of freedom that the aerialist exuded in each step reflected his own suppressed yearning for adventure and the longing to explore a life beyond the confines of the palace walls. At the same time, he couldn’t deny the beauty of his smile and how it started a fire within. Even at his expense, Kyungsoo laughed and smiled at the acrobat’s comedic performance of the crown prince while on the tightrope.

Unaware of being in front of the crowd, the prince caught the performer smiling in his direction. A swift glimpse of his bright eyes sent a flutter through his chest, and even in the dimmed light coming from the lanterns, he knew he wouldn’t be able to forget the light within them.

“Your Highness.” The whispered voice from his guard brought him back. “You’re too exposed here; we should go back to our last location.”

The prince finally realized where he was. His guard was right; even in disguise, he could be noticed faster by any knowing eye possibly keeping a watch on him. But before they could move on, he caught one of the members of the troupe running deeper into the forest.

The guard noticed the prince’s hesitation, but he managed to see the man too. “Should I follow him and catch him?”

The prince was still static. He knew it was the perfect opportunity to advance on his mission, but kidnapping someone to interrogate them felt too extreme for him. Kyungsoo only managed to let out a resigned sigh and nod, prompting his guard to follow his orders and pursue the man.

As Kyungsoo observed the troupe interacting with the spectators, offering flowers to children and bringing smiles to everyone’s faces, he couldn’t help but question the true intentions of his father when he urged him to spy on the troupe. It was a familiar awareness that he couldn’t just ignore again.

There was so much kindness and gentleness in their performance. They weaved tales about the royals that subtly alluded to each of their identities, but these were mere generalizations and deductions about them. The staging seemed celebratory, making him question the severity of the threats his father had warned him about. Perhaps, there was more to this group than met the eye, and their routine performances held the hidden messages that required his closer attention.

Someone was watching him. Even when lost in thought, his instincts caught the growing density in the air. Just as he was looking in front of him, a figure moved on the other side of the crowd. Vigilant, the prince maneuvered through the commonality, taking care not to collide with those around him. He tried to blend in, trying not to be perceived, and followed as he discreetly trailed his guard.

Once the prince caught sight of his guard, he noticed that he managed to capture the member of the troupe without causing any harm.

“Your Highness, we have apprehended him,” the guard reported, his voice filled with determination and loyalty.

Kyungsoo glanced at the man, his eyes searching for any signs of malice or rebellion. Yet, all he saw was fear and confusion, not the dangerous insurgence that his father tried to convince him about.

“Well done, Aeron. Escort him back to the palace,” Kyungsoo commanded, his voice firm yet filled with a hint of compassion. “We will interrogate him there… but I want to know more about this troupe and their intentions before we proceed.”

The guard bowed, taking a small glance at the frown on the prince’s face, understanding his hesitation. Making their way back to the palace, Kyungsoo couldn’t shake off the feeling that he needed to find out more about this troupe. He was determined to uncover the truth and see it with his own eyes.

The journey back seemed to pass in a blur, with the prince’s mind still spinning with questions sparked by the troupe’s performance.

His performance.

The look on the troupe member’s face that they were taking away wasn’t helping either. The conflicting feelings within him were burdening his conscience.

Still following procedure, Kyungsoo imprisoned the man before he requested an audience with his father. The guards let him in once they received the king’s approval.

As Kyungsoo entered the throne room, unease stirred within him, wondering in what state he might find his father. He was aware that it would be almost impossible for the king to accept his request, but his steps were steady as he allowed a small spark of hope to remain.

The imposing throne engulfed the hunched form of the king. His eyes wandered aimlessly around the room, seemingly oblivious to Kyungsoo’s presence, as if he didn’t exist at all. It wasn’t something he hadn’t witnessed before, since the king’s deteriorating mental condition had been evident for years already. It had worried Kyungsoo even when the relationship with his father was already too ruptured after his mother’s death.

Kyungsoo bowed cautiously, his senses on high alert as he attempted to unravel the enigmatic nature of the king himself. “Father, I have advanced on the mission and detained a troupe member to interrogate him.”

“Why haven’t you killed him yet?” The king let out an unsettling laugh, making Kyungsoo flinch and look back at him.

Taking a deep breath, he kept his composure. “Allow me to speak with him first, before other methods are implemented,” Kyungsoo pleaded calmly. “I will inquire about their whereabouts and performances while I keep spying on them. I strive to make this a successful mission once the entire troupe is caught.”

“You must not show weakness, or the wolves will rend this kingdom.” The king uttered under his breath in an endless echo.

Kyungsoo stared as his fight or flight instincts reacted at the familiar murmurings. He had seen the toll that ruling had taken on the king’s mind. In his heart, he still grieves the heroic figure he had seen in his father, even if it had been but a child’s impression. Now, through wariness and trepidation, the prince can’t let any vulnerability show if he wants to get his father to at least consider his strategy.

“Father,” he breathed and gathered his composure, carefully selecting his words for his father to listen, even when they could burn through his throat, “my aim is to eradicate all of the treacherous troupes that dare challenge your reign. I require valuable information, for that the prisoner would serve useful.”

“Weak boy,” the king whispered, yet Kyungsoo managed to hear. “Do as you must, and bring me facts, not fanciful suspicions. If they scheme revolt, they die. You have three days.”

“But, father, the hunting games—”

“I said three days!” His yell resonated throughout the entire room, even reaching the guards outside.

Kyungsoo clenched his jaw to restrain his own anger as he bowed and proceeded to leave. His mind was in turmoil—three days were not enough if he wanted to find the truth without hurting innocent people. The hunting games were now overlapping his mission time span, leaving him with only a day to carry it through.

As the prince walked out in a hurry, his guard Aeron followed. Kyungsoo made his way back to the prison where the troupe member was. A clear intention set his pace. Something within called for his compassion to remain until clear proof contradicted his intuition.

Upon arriving, the prince noticed that the man hadn’t touched the food he ordered to be served to him. Kyungsoo crouched down with a sigh. “You must eat something,” he whispered to the man. Taking the spoon, he took a bite of the porridge. His guard called at him, alarmed, but Kyungsoo stayed calm and smiled.

“You don’t have to trust me. I sent my guard after you and have you locked up here, but… I just want to talk,” he said with a calm and respectful tone. “This isn’t so delicious. Aeron, please ask for a better meal. I’ll eat here with him, and please stay outside while we talk.”

Aeron’s expression didn’t match the acceptance of his nod and bow, yet he still followed the prince’s orders. As he brought the grand dinner, he hesitated, but the prince insisted that he leave. Aeron was a little intimidating if only his height was taken into account—his face was too friendly and innocent—but it was still better for him to stay outside not to frighten the troupe member any further.

The prince started feasting as soon as his guard walked out, but the captive troupe member was still not at ease. Kyungsoo stopped eating and looked at the man. “I truly apologize for the circumstances that brought you here against your will. I hope you can trust my words; harming you is not my intent.”

He stopped to try to read into the man’s face. “Will you not share your name so that I may address you as a friend rather than a prisoner?” Kyungsoo offered with a slight smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

The troupe member dared to look up at the prince, recognizing that his tone hadn’t been harsh at any moment. Yet, at his still-present hesitancy, the prince continued his monologue, trying to convey his sincerity. “I saw tonight’s performance. Your troupe is tremendously experienced and talented. I have to admit, it lifted hearts as mine has not in years…” A small sigh took his imagination back to the acrobat on the tightrope. His determination only heightened.

“Share with me your troupe’s ways and aspirations, and I promise that no harm will befall you unjustly. I only wish to learn the truth in hopes of finding a peaceful path forward.”

The man eyed him warily. It was the very first moment that Kyungsoo saw defiance in him. Yet his eyes held no hostility, only a performer’s passion. “Then why imprison me? We’re but humble performers bringing joy to the people.”

“I know,” the prince replied, “but my father sees otherwise, and I must navigate intricate politics to change his mind… or rather find a way to disobey his orders without him noticing.”

Tension started easing as he comprehended the prince’s intentions. “Jay. They call me Jay,” he softly said as he grabbed the piece of meat that had called his attention since the food platter was brought. He chose to trust the prince, hoping to help his troupe and keep them from harm. Hoping that his faith wasn’t betrayed.

Their conversation extended into midnight, sharing both light and heavy truths as they finished their meal. As trust began to bloom, Jay opened up about the troupe’s wandering ways and their unwavering passion for captivating performances. Kyungsoo learned that the troupe was still in the town he had visited for the spring celebration, with some more performances left taking place near the market.

The next afternoon found Prince Kyungsoo making his way through the lively market crowds, his demeanor calm yet focused. Though duty required vigilance, his heart swelled with curiosity to comprehend the vibrant community that Jay had depicted his troupe to be and to uncover the underlying discontent beneath the facade of festivities.

His brother Hyun chatted amiably with vendors, brightening as colorful wares and foods caught his youthful eye, which brought a fond smile to Kyungsoo’s face as he cherished the carefree joy that remained untouched by the weight of his own burdensome responsibilities on that particular day. He hadn’t planned for his brother to join him, but upon hearing him talk about the market before breakfast, Kyungsoo was unable to deny the younger one’s request.

Aeron accompanied them, while two guards stayed behind to ensure Jay’s safety as he remained imprisoned, maintaining the illusion in the presence of the king. The prince found himself once again entangled in a perilous game. He could only strive to fulfill his mission without causing more harm.

“Kyungsoo! Sorry, hyungnim,” his brother called out, snapping Kyungsoo out of his reverie. He couldn’t deny the rush of emotions that surged within him upon hearing his brother utter his name, fearing the possibility of being recognized. It was more than mere luck that his brother only said it when they were close.

“What do you have there, brother?” Kyungsoo asked, taking a deep breath to regain his composure.

Hyun’s face lit up as he showed Kyungsoo the items he found. “Do you think Riyoon noona would like this bird barrette? How about this mirror for Hwayoon noonim? Since I broke her favorite one, maybe she won’t be so angry if I bring her a new one.”

Kyungsoo giggled at his brother’s innocence. “You know them better than I do. These are beautiful indeed; let’s get them these if you approve.”

With a clear of his throat, Aeron interrupted. “The people seem to be gathering now; the show must be about to start,” he informed them, and Hyun sparked up leading the way forward.

Maintaining a careful distance from the younger prince, Aeron whispered at Kyungsoo. “The guards are already in position to keep an eye on anyone suspicious, regarding the mysterious person you saw last night among the crowd.”

“Thank you, Aeron. Let’s hope it was only a paranoid thought; instead, let’s enjoy the celebrations.” Kyungsoo placed his hand on Aeron’s shoulder, reassuring him of his lightened mood even in the circumstances they found themselves in. Aeron wasn’t so sure about taking the mission so lightly, but he trusted the prince, so he still tried to remain alert while trying to unwind and enjoy the show.

The crowd was as lively as the one from the night before. But a sudden expectant hush fell over as some vendors and travelers joined at the back. Prince Kyungsoo scanned with intrigue but didn’t miss his brother’s delighted gaze.

Rumbling drums played an ominous sound. It set a different tone already, compared to the spring festival performance. The prince felt Aeron’s concerned look over him, but he dismissed him and focused on finding the acrobat who set his soul free. Kyungsoo awaited patiently, but a startling laugh alerted him.

A woman wearing a crown just like his father’s swirled around the drummers as she laughed and danced. The people seemed to enjoy the spectacle as they chuckled and applauded. Jay had been honest; this performance felt more challenging.

Veils magically moving with the wind drew the crowd’s attention away. The woman dressed as the king was standing on a throne. Four dancers held the veils as dresses and masks, twirling at the same pace. Other troupe members soared from the back, looking like lords and officials from the castle. The story started looking too real for the prince.

Kyungsoo flinched as the woman drew a prop sword and started dancing along, still acting in a manic way. Knowing what came next, the prince squeezed his eyes shut, but the roar of the crowd made him want to see what happened. The astonishment was palpable.

It was him.

Skipping through the crowd, the acrobat who filled the prince’s thoughts interrupted the scene. The drums stopped, but his heart kept the beat going within.

“Hyungnim! That was incredible! Did you see that acrobat?”

Kyungsoo heard his brother, but he was too busy contemplating the object of his admiration to answer him. The audience offered an enthusiastic applause. As the prince clapped, mesmerized by the aerialist, a familiar voice drawled beside him.

“Back again, cousin? One might think you’re growing fond of these entertainers.”

Prince Kyungsoo’s joy disappeared; he frowned and sighed inwardly at Prince Yeongwon’s sly tone. Though he had hoped to keep this outing discreet, of course his cousin would take notice. “If you’re so determined to follow my movements, I must be more careful not to leave tracks for you.” Kyungsoo’s tone held a subtle warning through his smirk.

“Just like at the festival?” Yeongwon raised an eyebrow and looked back at the troupe. Kyungsoo was nervous, but he managed to camouflage it with a gaze full of resentment and indignation towards his cousin’s behavior.

Yeongwon chuckled and smirked at Kyungsoo. “You’ve piqued my curiosity. You seem utterly enthralled by these performers, cousin, when by rights you should be attending to your princely duties.” He hummed mockingly. “What fascinates you so about these traveling actors that draws you to these performances time and again?”

Kyungsoo was struggling to easily let out his breath; his anger was growing, but before he could respond, Prince Hyun tugged on his sleeve excitedly. “Is that the end? Can we watch more? Please?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Highness,” Aeron interjected in his stoic tone, hoping to distract everyone from the tense moment that Yeongwon created. “We must return to the palace before dusk or risk questions.”

Yeongwon opened his mouth as if to lead to another pointed inquiry, but Kyungsoo cut him off swiftly. “You’ve come back for the hunt, I assume. Entertain us back to the palace with your stories if you must. The preparations will start soon. Hyun, Aeron, we must be on our way.”

Kyungsoo took one last longing look back at the troupe before steering their group towards the market outskirts, hoping the dense crowds might deter Yeongwon from continuing his prying. But from the calculating look in his eyes, the prince knew this conversation was far from over. His cousin’s curiosity had been piqued, and Kyungsoo would need to stay several steps ahead if he wished to maintain secrecy of both his mission and his growing feelings for the acrobat.

CHAPTER 2

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 1

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 7700

Warnings/Tropes: Strong Language, There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers

Links: Part 1, Part 2

You were due for some good.

Genuinely and honestly you could feel it. You were due for something good to happen to you. So much lately had been so very bad. This kind of bad luck seemed defy all the odds. Surely, surely this impressive streak of the universe opening its big cavernous mouth and vomiting all over your head could not, absolutely should not keep going. You were due. Something good. Anything good. For the love of God, it wasn’t as if you were a bad person. It wasn’t as if you routinely bet on dog fights and stole money from the big charity jar for the sick kids next to the register. You’d never ever, not once in your life even so much as looked at a dog or a kid funny. You never raised your voice or lost your temper. You didn’t yell at service workers. You didn’t deserve the cataclysm of shit that had been flung your way and even if, okay maybe… maybe once or twice you’d told a white lie, it was only to spare someone’s feelings. Maybe you’d stolen a piece of candy from a corner store as an ignorant child. Maybe you stepped on an ant or a fly or a spider but you swear none of it had been on purpose. You weren’t a bad person, not in the way that those bad people who get punished by the universe are punished, that wasn’t you. This shit storm had to end soon. It just had to.

You had been repeating this to yourself during the entire flight. During the entire, eerily empty flight with the single flight attendant who occasionally looked up and smiled at you when you made eye contact and uttered out a sweet, “you alright, hon?” When your own smile dipped just a little too far as the turbulence grew to what you were sure had to be abnormal levels.

The plane was one of those tiny propeller planes. The kind that had a whopping nine seats total and what every creak and groan of its rusted out nuts and bolts barely holding the thing together as it fought through the high winds outside and sent shivers down your spine.

What if this was it? What if that pilot had flown this thing right smack over the Bermuda Triangle and your rotten shit ass luck sent the three of you down into a watery grave nestled up beside Amelia Earhart and her tangled barnacle covered wreckage at the bottom of the sea.

No.

No, you were due for something good.

“Is it normally this loud?” You shouted across the tiny airplane cabin but the lone flight attendant had her head turned as she peered through the open cockpit door. She didn’t hear your question and offered you no reassurances as she stood up, straightened her uniform, a tasteful pantsuit, and disappeared through the open doorway

“Fasten your seatbelt and prepare for landing, Hon,” she popped her head back out for the quick announcement and disappeared through the space again, leaving you completely alone to contemplate your own mortality and what you hoped would be a swift end. It felt impossible. You hadn’t even been able to see land from outside your window. It had been endless ocean for hours now. Maybe you wouldn’t even feel the impact. Maybe the adrenaline dump would protect your dying mind and body from the pain that came from with a water impact. Your knuckles were bright white as you gripped your armrests and you remembered that one episode of MythBusters that said the best position for a plane crash was with your body bent in two and your head tucked down between your legs.

The plane was shaking terribly. It was rattling and screeching. You were clenching down so hard on your teeth you half wondered if you might knock a few of them loose. You were praying to yourself with your eyes squeezed up tight and you wrapped your arms tightly around your thighs doing your best to hold yourself together even if this plane fell apart around you. There was a boom. You hoped you wouldn’t pee your pants but thought you might be justified if you did. The search and rescue team would understand as the collected your remains.

The roaring and trembling of this world around you creaked and moaned and swayed and eventually you could feel the change of speed deep inside your chest as everything, every groan and strain and clench came to a stop with a dramatic throwback on the landing that jostled your body and made you feel positively seasick.

The plane had stopped.

You were not dead.

“Ladies and Gent—” The pilot's voice broke through the tiny speaker over your head. You pulled your sweaty head up from your lap and looked through the still open cabin door as the man speaking paused for a moment to consider his words, “uhh…just lady, we welcome you to La Malinche Island. The temperature is a damp and balmy 89 degrees Fahrenheit and dropping as the winds pick up. Not sure what possessed you to fly to a tiny island in the Caribbean right before a hurricane hit but Barracuda Air does not want to know your business. We only care about our promise to you. Our promise of course, at Barracuda Air, with a … 0% flight cancellation rate, not counting that one incident with Jerry — be it rain or snow or sleet or hail, Barracuda Air does not care. Barracuda Air will get you there. Welcome to La Malinche. We hope you like 150 mile-per-hour winds and torrential rain.”

Hurricane? Is that was the roaring and terrifying shaking has been about? A goddamned hurricane?!

You’d checked the weather last week. There was zero mention of a hurricane. You pulled your cell phone out of your back pack and turned off airplane mode and you watched the cell service signal in the upper right hand corner spin and spin. It eventually gave up and gave you the saddest little no signal sign and you toggled airplane mode on and off again with the same terrible result.

But…but…

You were due.

“Thank you for flying Barracuda Air.” Your flight attendant was standing near the exit at the front of the plane; her voice just loud enough for you to hear it; her smile just wide enough for you to get the message.

You tried your phone one more time, this time turning the whole thing off and turning it on again while holding it up high above your head to be able to catch the signal better. You just needed a minute for it to come back on. You only needed one bar, one bar would be enough.

“Thank you for flying Barracuda Air.” This time her voice was closer. She was standing at your row now, her voice betrayed none of the urgency implied with the repetition. Her smile was still believable enough.

You looked down at the useless paperweight in your hands and outside of the window on the tarmac below, you watched the lone airport employee wheeling your checked bag away from the airplane. The wind whipped his rain jacket around his body fiercely in all directions and you swallowed down the very real sense of dread that was beginning to fill your stomach.

This was supposed to be a vacation. This was supposed to be paradise. It had been advertised as such in the brochure. The single’s retreat at the five star resort where only other eligible global singles of extremely high caliber would attend. The probably very expensive luxury retreat that was a gift from your very best friend in the entire world, Clare, who sold you on the idea that here — here you would surely find your soulmate. One that would be as delighted to meet you and you were to meet them.

Here you would be the most beautiful and captivating woman any of these sad, but not clinically; lonely, but not in a creepy way; brooding but not in a mean way; hurt and broken but not broken in some way that some sweet woman’s attention couldn’t fix — you’d be the most womanly woman any of these manly men had ever seen!

Definitely not the kind of man that still lived with an overbearing mother, but one who still loved his mother very much, but maybe lived far enough away from her that he didn’t have to listen to everything she told him anymore. Hell, maybe you’d get lucky and land a man with a dead mother. No, no, no. No need to be greedy.

But the kind of man — no, the kind of men who were very, very attractive.

They were going to be tall with clean skin and clean teeth and they’d be successful, but not too successful. They were smart, but not annoyingly so. Oh! And charming! But most importantly, they were men who would find you to be absolutely irresistible. These men were supposed to be waiting for you. They were going to be beside themselves when they got a load of you. They were going to flirt with you and call you sweetheart or darling with a southern drawl or and they would buy you drinks and feed you cheesy lines about how they’d never before seen a woman that held galaxies inside of her eyes like yours did.

“Ma’am,” a voice called to you, sharper than before, “you need to get off the plane. The airport is closing because of the storm. You can't stay here.”

You hadn’t even unbuckled your seat belt yet.

God forbid they give you a damn minute.

It was a disaster.

You quickly gathered all of your belongings. The flight attendant had pulled your carry-on bag down from the overhead bin and her smile had long since vanished as she held it out for you to take and get the hell off her plane already. You grabbed the handle, no longer grateful for her help. No longer thankful for the small bag of peanuts she’d fed you earlier or the two cans of soda she’d handed you hours ago. She was ushering you down the aisle, through the exit door, and had watched you navigate the scary stairs until you plopped your two feet right down into the cement of the tarmac belonging to the smallest airport you had ever visited in your entire life.

The wind came at you in waves. One second you were sure this whole hurricane thing had been exaggerated and the next your hair was taken and spun around your head, whipped into some sort of frenzied do as strands hit your cheeks like tiny, stinging whips. You did your best to grab ahold of it with one hand but lost your cardigan in the process. It flew a few feet and landed on the floor in a brown puddle of water beside the door with a hand-printed arrow directing you to open it for Baggage Claim.

You were an adult. You had been a responsible, self-sufficient adult for some years now. You had found yourself in situations that required you to navigate this cold cruel world by yourself before but as you reached down and picked up your sweater and watched the muck drip in slow, fat, thick drops from the once pristine knit fabric, you suddenly felt more alone than you’d ever felt in your entire life.

Behind you, far beyond this mystery puddle, the only one in this entire dry concrete hell; somewhere on that small runway you heard the Barracuda revving its engines for take off.

Maybe you weren’t due for anything good to happen in your life ever again. Maybe it was just going to be shit from now on.

Had you somehow brought all of this on yourself? Maybe it had been the bad thoughts you’d had. The ill wishes you’d genuinely hoped to fall on those who had done you dirty in your life. Your recent ex-boss, you’d hoped and prayed would face a bout of public uncontrollable diarrhea. Your ex-coworker who’d stolen work from you, lied about you and sabotaged you and who you believed led to you being fired, you hoped she would be hit by a city bus, not enough to kill her but you hoped at least three bones would be broken.

The ex boyfriend who cheated on you with your ex friend, you hoped the both of them would sail off into the sunset and be lost as sea, eaten by a whale or something scarier with suckers and sharp teeth.

And most recently, that friend of a friend, that charming, sweet, funny, and handsome man who would be absolutely perfect for you, according to Claire who set you both up — the blind date who not only stood you up, leaving you to wait for him for a whole hour at the fancy ass restaurant, but also, in some wacky attempt to tarnish your good name told all of your friends that you were in fact the one who flaked on the date. You could not imagine why he couldn’t have just come clean. Well you weren’t going to let him win. He was trying to play the victim when in fact you had been the loser who was stood up. You denied it earnestly. He maintained his lie and you both had been stuck in a bitter stalemate ever since. Any gathering of friends where he was scheduled to be there, you refused to attend. You heard through various sources that he had a similar reaction to the threat of your presence and this only fanned the flames even hotter. Any time his name was uttered in pleasant company you rolled your eyes and made snide remarks under your breath. Doh Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo. Chef Doh. Decorated and celebrated private chef, a genius with a knife and a frying pan. You wanted to vomit.

After a while the fight moved from only inside your own head to the real world. He would leave sarcastic replies to some of the things you said to your friends. Things you told them with love and respect would get a passive aggressive laughing reaction from him or some sort of contrary comment right below yours. You both evolved into taking little snips at each other in the comments of your mutual friends' social media posts and like the good friends they were, everyone of them politely ignored it.

Just, how dare he? There was nothing worse than men who lie. You hoped at the time that he would be exposed for the fake and liar that he was, although now as you wandered through this empty airport this punishment seemed not enough for your shitty mood. In this moment you hoped and prayed that he would have been the one trapped on a deserted island with a hurricane bearing down over his head. Even his name and profile picture filled you with an irrational rage. That sweet and innocent looking, fake ass motherf—

Wait.

Wait one goddamn minute.

Your forward movement abruptly stopped and you stood with your luggage in your hand on the sidewalk of an empty and deserted airport with no cell reception and no idea how to get to the hotel.

Wasn’t all this doom to my enemies wishing how you got yourself cursed by the universe? Was all of this really your own doing?

You took a step, trying to remember if the hotel was situated within walking distance of the airport. Trying to recall it was to the west or to the east or if maybe it was to the south.

This was a tiny island. Maybe it wasn’t that far. Maybe if you wandered around town someone might point you in the right direction and you wouldn’t be mugged or mudered.

You closed your eyes for a split second and smelled something crisp and funny in the air. You could feel the hairs on your arm standing on end and a feeling of panic surged through you as the first fat raindrops began to fall from the sky at the same time as an ear deafening boom sounded out over your head. It was so loud it shook the roof over your head.

You screamed and covered your head, taking several big steps back and away from the empty parking lot where the blinding flash of lightning must have struck.

There was a gross taste inside of your mouth. Your rational brain attributed it to the close lightning strike but you knew deep down what that taste really was.

It tasted like you might be about to make a deal with the devil. You shouted right out loud into the air above your head, “Doh Kyungsoo is great! I misunderstood him! He is a prime example of a man and a genuinely good person! I hope his pillow is always cold and his toast is never burnt!”

You knew it was silly. You were a silly lady.

Of course it was silly.

It wasn’t as if the skies would magically clear, the whipping winds would calm and five taxis would drive up each more eager than the last to drive you to your luxury resort for free.

You did hear something new and unexpected though. Something that had you spinning around to investigate.

There was a man standing behind you. He wore a clean crisp suit and a very wide and bright inviting smile on his face. He had cleared his throat. This respectable gentleman clearly had something to say to you.

“Yes?”

His smile widened with your acknowledgement, “Hello. My name is Mr. Chen. I’m the Concierge with Shifting Sands Resort, are you by chance Miss—” his eyebrows lifted and he extended a hand, palm up, the beginnings of your name formed on his lips.

“Oh my God, yes. I am her. She is me. Oh, thank you, thank you!”

His smile deepened and his eyes turned up into little moons on his pretty face and the relief that surged through you was complete and instantaneous.

“Might I take your bags, Miss?”

Was this man your savior? Would he have come to your rescue all along? Or was Doh Kyungsoo your karmic stabilizer?

You were loaded up and buckled in and well on your jolly way to your promised paradise of pampering and relaxation. Dare you wish for a handsome man or two desperately waiting to make your acquaintance?

Maybe you’d even settle for just one. One handsome and suave proper gentleman to spend the week with; to wine and dine with; to sweep you off your feet. Surely this entire trip wouldn’t be a complete waste. Surely you hadn’t dug yourself down that far deep yet.

Your driver had been maneuvering the big comfy van in silence up until now but you caught his kind eyes glance back at you in the rear view.

“Mr. Chen, please tell me some other people have showed up for this singles retreat.”

His eyes held on to yours for only a few seconds and his lips were pursing together in more thought than you figured was necessary.

“Ummm…” his voice trailed, “well…actually…”

His eyes drifted away from yours under the guise of watching the non existent traffic on this scenic road that, had it not started raining, might have been a beautiful drive.

You weren’t sure what kind of sacrifices the universe demanded. You wanted just one. You didn’t even ask for much, just another living breathing human male who was the complete opposite of that slimey, slandering, thought he was slicker than a bowl of shit, Doh Kyungsoo.

The car screeched to a halt and your seatbelt caught and firmly locked you into place, digging hard enough into your neck to leave a mark. The rain outside pelted the roof of the van, much harder now and Mr. Chen seemed to be breathing quite hard as he tripped the steering wheel tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Miss, are you alright? I am sorry, this road is blocked. We will need to take another way around.”

Jesus. The near kiss with death had you gripping your seat very tightly and you closed your eyes.

That…that…ass— as lovely on the inside as on the outside, Doh Kyungsoo.

That saintly and angelic man.

That accurate and symmetrical and pragmatic and punctual, Doh Kyungsoo.

You could feel yourself running out of adjectives. What is the opposite of a rat bastard?

That legitimate, law-abiding, insured, and licensed to drive, Doh—

“Ahh, what were you asking? Other guests? Yes miss, of course. The singles retreat — well, we don’t have nearly the crowd we expected but there is at least one other guest who you should find most agreeable. He is very handsome and charming. All of the other staff members are positively enraptured by him already. Especially the ladies, but I have to admit I myself felt a bit of a flutter when he caught me in those big brown eyes of his.”

It worked. It fucking worked.

Son of a bi — son of a w-wise and gentle lady probably — what the hell did you know about his mother? She raised a f-fine excuse for a son, that much you knew. A real piece of work— err — art! A piece of art. A real, honest to god, adult male human being. You really needed to get that man out of your head. You could actually feel the first real dangerous slips into madness the more his name and his profile picture danced through your head.

You closed your eyes tight and you tried your absolute best to think about someone else. Anyone else. The mystery man who you were about to meet. The tall, dark, handsome, sweet and successful man who would sweep you off your feet the moment you met him.

The alternate route to the resort was down right pleasant. It was scenic and beautiful and you looked out the window as you drove the long way around, the very deserted road that took you along the breathtaking coastline. You continued the almost ritualistic positive compliments in your head Mr. Chen was chock full of his own compliments for the handsome and admirable guest who was to be your only other companion during this week’s retreat.

You were fine with that. Even if it didn’t turn into love — by the sounds of him and based on how Mr. Chen absolutely raved, you were sure the two of you would get along quite well and maybe even become good friends once this whole thing was over.

The fancy resort was as lovely and beautiful as the brochures had promised, yet your chest felt tight with apprehension. Something was wrong. There was nobody here. Mr. Chen profusely apologized for the shortness of staff due to the incoming storm which from the sounds of the serious news reports you could hear playing on the overhead television in the empty lobby, was already wrecking a neighboring island. The huge and scary category 4 hurricane which threatened to turn into a category 5 at any moment now and who’s outer bands were already knocking trees down outside and whipping rain fiercely against the windows. This wasn’t even the real storm and the wind and sheets of water hitting the window outside sounded so scary. It even sounded as if the building itself was moaning under the pressure of the wind outside. The longer you stood in this enormous and astonishingly empty building, it was becoming more and more evident that maybe you shouldn’t be here at all. Here you stood, your presence alone putting these people in danger. You, the only insane person who stubbornly refused to accept the reality of this storm. Not only would not be the relaxing and love connecting vacation you had been preparing for, but what if something really bad happened to you here? What if you died on this island? Fuck love, fuck men, fuck that man, Doh Kyungsoo in particular — what if you actually died here?

There seemed to be some sort of serious whispered discussion taking place between Mr. Chen and two other uniformed employees of the resort.

You weren’t being checked into your room. In fact, you still had your own bag in your hand and there wasn’t some moist young whippersnapper scooping your bags up to lead you to your room so you could snack on strawberries and cream and sip on champagne.

Someone made eye contact with you. There was a small regretful smile on her face and you caught the deep chest filling breath Mr. Chen took as he looked away from your curious face. It took him a moment of looking away before he exhaled, closed his eyes briefly to collect himself and the same rueful smile took over his face when he turned to come to you, taking several large steps to return to your side, he looked up into your face and carefully began to speak to you. His voice sounded grave and serious.

“Miss, I am,” he lifted a hand and laid his palm over his chest, “extremely, terribly sorry.” His eyes were sad, his eyebrows curved his face into a grimace, “I have received some bad news. The resort will have to close. We have lost power to all of the guest rooms. The ballroom was flooded, as it was closest to the ocean. The kitchens are down. It seems we are in an emergency situation due to the storm.”

This felt like a bad dream. Maybe you had fallen asleep on the plane and when you woke up it would be a bright sunny day in paradise like you’d been promised.

“We will all need to leave. The other guests have already been moved. I’m so sorry, Miss, of course the entirety of the cost of the stay will be refunded. We are prepared to offer a free week’s stay at any of our resorts for you and a guest to use at a time of your choosing. But right now we must go. The roads are beginning to flood and we can only go to the shelter at the highest point on the island. We have to move quickly before the storm surge.”

“Storm surge?” You could feel the panic and upset building inside of you. “Sh-shelter?” You knew it was evident in your voice. “The other guests were moved?” You looked outside the window. Anyone with any sense at all knew there was very real danger happening out there.

“Other guest. Sorry, there is only the one guest. I apologize but you both will need to bunk together in the barracks. The generators should last throughout the storm. There is no other place to go.” Mr. Chen was talking but you felt dazed. You were ushered into a different vehicle and the other staff members climbed in beside you. Mr. Chen was still talking about the place where you were being taken. Something about a room full of bunks, used during some historical war between two countries that didn’t exist anymore. Something about the man, the only other single from this god forsaken Singles Retreat. He was to be your bunk-mate. He, a complete stranger, was supposed to share the very large and spacious barracks with you. There would be ample space for you to spread out, as the space was designed for armies of 20 soldiers or more, but you were not to fear because Mr. Chen and his staff would be right next door should either of you need any assistance.

The road up the hill was bumpy and hectic. This vehicle was obviously well equipped to handle the rough trip, but you still found yourself jostled around, feeling seasick with the swaying back and forth and big bumps the wheels traveled over.

You began to think you might not make it. The queasiness from the ride had you closing your eyes and trying to breathe through it. Begging and pleading that you would not be sick inside this vehicle. You took deep steadying breaths through your nose, exhaling through your mouth, willing your overly sensitive stomach to calm down. The big truck soon began to slow and eventually crawled to a stop.

“I — I need to get out,” you mumbled just under your breath, unbuckling the seat belt and pushing yourself toward the door. You reached for it and pulled the handle, kicking hard with your feet. The rain was falling hard outside and you leaned over, breathing deeply as the raindrops quickly soaked your entire head.

You couldn’t meet him yet. Not like this. Not schrodinger's man of your dreams. Not fighting nausea while looking exactly like a drowned rat as you were babied by some kind hotel worker who probably shouldn’t be getting wet in the rain like this.

The cooling effects of the rain helped to calm the nausea and you felt a hand at your shoulder a moment before the deluge of rain falling over your head stopped. Someone had placed an umbrella over you. Someone was leaning into you; the staff woman from the hotel was talking to you.

“Miss, are you alright?” She rubbed a comforting warm palm over your back between your shoulder blades in slow and careful circles. You opened your eyes, noticing first the soft swell of what had to be a baby in her belly before you looked into her concerned face. She looked to be pretty far along too. She was probably due any week now. Her name tag said Sara and she had kind eyes.

You forced your shoulders back and pushed a smile upon your face. You worked for it and did your best to straighten out the expression on your face, gripping the stick of the umbrella and angling it so it covered more of her body. You’d be damned if you gave some expecting mother pneumonia just because you’d always had an overly sensitive stomach and the Barracuda Air pretzels were sitting funny.

“I’m okay. Just got a little carsick but it’s passed now that I’m out of the car. Let’s hurry inside before we get too wet.”

Your belongings were already rushed inside the drab, depressing, tan colored cement walled building that was to be your shelter for the next week or so and you rushed inside quickly with Sara stepping inside right behind you.

There was a click of the big heavy doors and aside from the two small windows next to the door, there wasn’t much in here for natural lighting. There was a musty smell in here and a thick layer of dust over most of the surfaces.

“I really am sorry that things have ended up this way, Miss.” Sarah waved hand back and forth in front of her face, waving away some of the dust in the air. She didn’t pause for long enough for you to absolve her of any guilt related to this messed up situation before she was speaking again, this time stepping further inside the space. There was a hallway up ahead that she turned into.

“If you could follow me, I’ll show you the room with the bunks and introduce you to Mr. Doh, our other guest. We changed all of the bedding so it’s clean and the space really is quite big.”

She was walking away from you as she kept taking. You felt a strange tickle along your scalp. A raindrop rolled down the back of your head, tickling its way down inside of your hair.

Did she say Mr. Doh? That same dream-like feeling that had been haunting you ever since you’d stepped off of that airplane returned.

Sara was turning a door handle and she had both of her hands pressing on a door.

“I’m sorry, what did you say his name is?”

“I’ll introduce you,” she smiled widely and leaned her head in closer to you as she dropped her voice, “He’s not that tall but he’s so, so, so handsome. He’s funny and witty too. I’m sure you’ll get along.” She said this last part with a genuine giggle of excitement. “I am just so excited!” She squealed. The eagerness in her face had a feeling of dread building inside of your belly. That stubborn queasiness you’d felt before returned.

The room was empty. Of course it was empty. Bunk beds lined each wall and a center aisle just wide enough for a person to pass through single file separated the rows of bunks and on one of the beds, the one closest to the door sat a black travel bag. A dripping rain jacket was hung over the metal frame of the upper bunk and whoever owned these items was not around.

“Oh, he was…just here…” Sara was spinning around, reacting to a sound, the sound of a door opening and your eyes followed to catch the movement of a person, a human, a man as he emerged from what you imagine was a bathroom. His head covered with a small white towel and a tanned arm rubbed swiftly over his straight black hair. On his torso, he wore only a simple white t-shirt and the fabric was too thin. The rain shower he’d been caught in made the shirt nearly transparent.

It only took a moment.

You knew what was going on.

It took less than a second for your eyes to touch deep inside of his big round brown eyes and you knew in an instant; you knew exactly who this Mr. Doh was, this esteemed and honored guest of the Shifting Sands Resort, you knew who he was and you knew exactly what this was — this man who stood in front of you; this man who was not very tall but so, so, so, and yes she was right, so handsome — because he was very handsome; even you could admit that, of course he was.

You wouldn’t have agreed to that idiotic blind date with him in the first place if you hadn’t found him to be incredibly attractive, with his clean skin, soft as hell full lips, achingly deep brown and oh so judgemental eyes, sexy and strong back, bulging arm muscles; his goddamned smart ass comments, and annoying as shit filthy lies that he told to tarnish your reputation with at least four good friends — this man who dropped the towel slowly as his eyes looked into your own stunned ones, this was that man; the one and only, Doh Kyungsoo.

You knew exactly who he was. The rat bastard, Doh Kyungsoo and you knew exactly what this situation was.

You were dead.

You had died in that airplane; gone down in the Caribbean Sea with the rest of the Barracuda Air flight and cabin crew.

You were dead and this was hell.

If your face betrayed the shock you felt right now, Sara didn’t notice. She must not have been paying any attention to you at all. She simply giggled as she gave her sweet introduction of you, raising a hand out palm up as she called out your name and recited some lame facts about you and what kind of man you were looking for in a relationship. Facts that you’d haphazardly typed out during the registration process for this Singles Retreat from hell, she said them all with a wide smile and a small silent clap of excitement as she got the words out.

Sara recited from memory, straight from your own mindless words, “Her ideal man is someone who is funny and witty. Someone who is just the perfect height for plenty of eye contact — and of course a man smells nice and is handsome.” Her hand motioned over and around his pretty face as if she simply could not help herself.

His eyes were wide with just as much genuine surprise in them as you had in yours.

Sara continued her introductions, bringing that palm right back around in front of his chest, at an even level with the nipples you could just make out through the sheer fabric of the wet t-shirt, and she proudly declared, “this is Doh Kyungsoo. His ideal woman is someone who’s as kind as she is honest and trustworthy. She is someone with an iron stomach who isn’t afraid to try new foods and explore new adventures with him.”

You felt too stunned to move. There was no way this was really happening. You felt the room spinning and it reminded you a lot of sitting with your head down between your knees as that airplane fell out of the sky. The same feeling as bouncing around the back seat of that off road truck that brought you up this hill to this bunker out of the immediate threat of the hurricane that blasted outside and into the waiting arms of a much more agonizing threat.

Sara had finished her introductions. Neither of you moved.

He was the first to break the silence.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His question was blunt. He hadn’t bothered with appearances or with how abrupt and callous his question was, or with how full of disgust that expression on his face might appear to Sara.

He never once considered just how far down her shoulders might deflate to have the cold hard truth splashed in her face. That not only did not you check a single one of his boxes, but you might very well be the last woman on this entire earth that he might fall in love with.

That he’d rather sneak out the back door after catching a glimpse of you waiting for him, all gussied up with your cheap drug store makeup and little black dress from the clearance racks at Target — a specimen so far below his level that he couldn’t even spare you the humiliation of faking a smile all the way to dessert before ghosting you the next day; instead he’d rather leave you stranded and embarrassed. Having to foot the bill yourself for your three glasses of white wine and no entree. Having to suffer through the pitiful glances of the waitstaff as they took turns asking if you were “still waiting for someone,” all the while knowing you’d been abandoned and publicly marked as unlovable.

“Me?!” You were too blindsided for tact. Your indignation at his bluntness filled you with just as many questions as he must have had in that pretty, stupid head of his.

“Why you?”

Once the first question was out, the second came out with gusto. He balked and his eyebrows furrowed. His fist clenched around the towel he was holding. You reached down deep within your diaphragm and the words came out too loudly.

You couldn't help the anger you felt. This was supposed to be your Prince Charming. This was supposed to be paradise. You opened your mouth and you let it fly. The frustrations from the trip so far, from the sham of a blind date, from being so unethically and undeservedly fired from your job, that fucking hurricane outside that stole the 5-star resort from under your feet and plopped you down inside this musty concrete prison from the 1940s and the words came out of you as if you threw them hard right into the eye of that hurricane outside.

“Why is it you?! Why are you the Mr. Doh that she is introducing me to?!”

“Because that is my name!!” His voice level rose higher and you actually flinched at the sudden volume he used. This motherfucker. How dare he shout at you. And in front of Sara. The poor girl took two steps away from the both of you and covered her belly with both of her arms.

“Why are you yelling?!” You took a step into him and shouted right back, right into his face. You needed answers for his awful behavior. He did not retreat. You could smell the light cologne he wore from this close.

“Because you yelled at me first!!”

His clenched fist gripping the towel tight was lifted, his eyes were wide, and his voice had so much more power than yours ever could that you nearly cowered. You almost backed down and backed off. Almost. He was clearly just as stubborn as you were.

Also the words he said took only one second to sink in and your next bit of anger got caught inside of your throat, refusing to come out.

Damn. He was right. You did yell first. It was you who did it first.

You’d just been so caught up in your awful mood that seeing him standing in here, knowing that what this man already knows about you would basically ruin your chances of finding any other man here to trick into falling madly in love with you. What if he told them all about your messy life. You hadn’t bothered concealing any of your recent failures on social media. You’d obsessively scrolled through his own profiles often enough to know that not only was this man a work-a-holic, but he was a big ol’ nerd. You figured he had done the same with you since some of his recent digs at you in Claire’s comments had been about you being recently liberated from your job. You’d been in his circle for long enough to know plenty about him, you were sure he had all of the dirt on you. You stepped back and away from him. From a normal distance he didn’t smell so damned nice.

“Oh I did, didn’t I?” you said in a much more normal tone, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Your apology was as abrupt as the yelling had been, but it seemed to have a bigger effect on him. His eyes seemed to grow softer or perhaps just more confused and he blinked rapidly as his focus touched lightly around all edges of your face.

“Sara, not this one,” you pulled your eyes away from his face, not quite finding the conviction to be able to fully look away from him, but your words were at least directed away from him and onto the woman who stood three feet away from you with what you almost thought was a fully enthralled expression on her face.

“Do you have any others?”

Kyungsoo made a sound. It was a scoff mixed with a grunt. It was disgruntled. You pulled your mouth into the sweetest fake smile you could manage and directed all of that sweetness at him.

“I mean the room, of course.”

“Sara, I think I’d also like to switch to another room. This one seems to have something fundamentally wrong with it.” Kyungsoo said without taking his eyes off of your face, “it’s not for me. This place seems undeservingly high maintenance and might even have some nasty pests hidden in the walls. I bet they really come out at night.”

Sara was silent for long enough for you to actually need to look at her. When you did, you smelled trouble. Sara was smiling. It was the kind of smile you got sometimes when you found a great drama to watch and you knew that these two wacky characters were about to thoroughly ruin each other's lives before they fell in love.

Her eyes were bouncing back and forth between you and Kyungsoo and with each pass her smile only widened.

“Sara.” You said in a flat tone. You had seen enough romantic comedies to know what she was thinking. “Sara, no. Not in a million years.”

She was giggling and nodding her head now.

“There are no other rooms.” She said with a voice three octaves higher than normal and she was giggling as she said it. “This is the only room.”

“You can’t even leave because there’s a hurricane outside.” She was outright laughing.

“I have to go tell Mr. Chen everything,” she whispered to herself and she was rushing toward the door, pulling it open with all of her might and vanishing through the opening much faster than you thought a woman in her delicate condition should be allowed to move.

“Sara, I swear to god,” you shouted down the dark hallway that she disappeared down, “Sara!” But she was long gone and behind you the huffing and puffing, very put-out man was grabbing every single bit of his belongings from his bed and moving them all down to the bed at the farthest end of this enormous room, putting himself and his itty bitty towel and his sheer white t shirt with his visible nipples physically as far away from you as possible.

It was actually funny to see him throwing such an obvious fit.

“I can see your nipples through your wet t-shirt, you know.” You said it under your breath but not at all trying to not be heard.

“I’m not the only one in this room with a wet t-shirt, Princess. Between the two of us, your nipples are far more eventful than mine,” he sing-songed back, using as much sarcasm as he could manage with the pejorative he used as a nickname for you.

You gasped covering your chest with both hands — the liar. The damned liar. There was no way. But when you looked down, you could very clearly make out nearly every detail of the entire shape and outline of your breasts, even the dark circles of your nipples in the center stood out. Cold and wet with your precious cardigan long tossed in the trash can back at the airport after it got wet in the puddle and you left with only the sheer bra you stupidly decided to wear under this light pink colored shirt and the hope that maybe, maybe this was one of those countries that didn’t extradite murderers and you might get away with killing him in his sleep tonight.

Links: Part 1, Part 2

[dilxcc]

ordinary days ᡣ𐭩 doh kyungsoo

domestic fluff, living the best life with kyungsoo, hes so in love with you tbh, grammatical error

kyungsoo x reader!

a/n this was totally not inspired by his song. also, testing if it was just a new account thing or my fic really sucks and people dont read it 💀 this was also posted at @jonginbear

the soft humming of kyungsoo as he danced around in the kitchen, cooking to his heart's content. he was alone in your apartment while you were out at work. despite your absence, he still showed up at your apartment, wanting to try out a new recipe he had come up with last night.

it explained why his eyes has a light dark circle.

the clanking sounds that came from the kitchen utensils filled the quietness. it calmed his excited heart from bursting. not a while later, he finished up his cooking and started to wash the dishes.

it was always like this with kyungsoo. your house was always tidied up whenever he's around. he couldn't stand seeing how disoriented you are.

the soft click from the door perked his ears up. it was just in time that he had finished setting up the table. your nose immediately picked up the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. "hey," kyungsoo smiled, his wet hands were wiped clean on the apron that he has yet to take off. his cute dimples showing from smiling too hard.

"hey," you returned his smile. he walked up to you and kissed your cheeks. "what did you cook?" you asked softly, taking off your coat and threw it on the couch. "a new pasta recipe," he said proudly. "i made it more spicy for you," he said, pulling out the chair for you. you gratefully took a sit all the while watching him take off his apron.

kyungsoo sat across the table, ready to eat his newly made recipe.

after dinner, both of you sat on the couch, huddled up close to each other and feeling content. you lay your head on his chest, wanting to listen to his calm heartbeat. his arm were wrapped securely around your waist and he nuzzled his nose in your hair.

likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated <3

© dilxcc

[sooinbloom]

Haven’t Met You Yet

pairing: kyungsoo x you genre: meet cute, fluff, neighbor AU, actor!soo word count: 3,302 description: Kyungsoo becomes enamored with his neighbor, and one chance encounter becomes the start of something beautiful warnings: language author’s note: hello dear reader! Long time no see! Sorry about that. this is another one shot that i wrote and never published. I came up with it listening to the song, “Haven’t Met You Yet” by Michael Buble. I have a bit of an idea for a second part, let me know if you liked this one shot and I’ll get to work on the second part! Thank you for your likes, reblogs and shares on my other work! It baffles me that these things get read. Please enjoy, this is lighthearted, no warnings… Just cuteness. Dividers by @saradika-graphics , gif is not mine.

- Aria

Kyungsoo watches his neighbor every day. 

He wasn't sure how it or when it started, he can’t remember anything before seeing her walking down the sidewalk that one autumn morning. Ever since, he was taken by her. He watched her from across the street from his living room window. Their townhouses faced each other, her house number was 111 and his was 112. Kyungsoo liked that, how she was before him in many ways. Out of anything in the world, he wanted her to be the first thing he saw in the morning and was determined to start his day with just a glimpse of her. Her shifts were opposite from his, she worked during the day and his call times were mainly at night for the first half of his project. When Kyungsoo would come home from work, she would be locking her door and leaving for the day.

Today was no exception.

Kyungsoo watched her lock her door as she slowly descended the few steps that gave her access to the sidewalk. He didn’t understand how one woman could look so perfect this early in the morning. Her hair grazed her shoulders in a pretty style he had never seen her wear before. The outfit she wore slowly became the actor’s favorite he’s seen her wear so far. The cream-colored chunky sweater, brown calf-length skirt and sneakers combination she was wearing looked like what holding her in his arms must feel like; cozy and warm. A badge hung from a soft pink lanyard around her neck, and he could never make out what the ID said, but from his best guess she must have worked in an office somewhere.

Kyungsoo couldn't tell what color her eyes were, but their serene gleam made him want to see the soul behind them. The man hoped one day he could muster up enough courage to speak to her and see those eyes up close. Having her at a distance was becoming too much to bear, just watching this beautiful woman he called his neighbor on her daily commute or weekend morning walks was not enough anymore.

 This beautiful stranger had a glow about her that Kyungsoo could not quite put his finger on. At one point, Kyungsoo wondered if the woman was even real or just a fatigued apparition that only appeared when he was too tired to realize she was not real. This theory was proven wrong on several occasions but stayed a theory in the back of his head. He would scold himself every time he would gravitate toward the window to watch her come home after her long days.

This is insane. 

This is creepy. 

You're stalking your neighbor. Your beautiful neighbor. 

The problem remained that Kyungsoo did not know how to approach her. Did she speak the same language? How embarrassing would it be if he opened his mouth, and she did not understand him! Kyungsoo spoke English, yes, but felt more comfortable speaking in his native language, Korean. He could express himself better and not second guess every word that came out of his mouth. Even worse... What if she recognized him? It’s not exactly impossible, but not something the actor would bet on.

Relocating to Los Angeles for his first major international movie role was a huge step in Kyungsoo’s career. He was on the cusp of his entire life changing, and dating was the furthest thing from his mind… Until he saw her. Losing himself in the idea of her became Kyungsoo’s favorite past time, living in a world where she was by his side. He loved the idea of her. She could be the worst thing for him, but he figured he would never know until he took the chance to put himself out there against the advisory of his management. Being alone in a new country was already hard enough on Kyungsoo, the isolation was starting to make him reflect on just how lonely he felt and the yearning to share his life with someone started to overtake him.

He also understood how crazy all of this was. He never even said a greeting to his woman yet he was certain she could be the one he wanted to spend his Sunday mornings with, doing nothing being close to her, holding her as she woke up in his arms. No one made him lose his mind more than her, this woman he never met before. He didn't want to make his neighbor feel uncomfortable around him if they ever met. He made a sincere effort to catch a glimpse of her without her noticing but the more he lingered at the window, the harder it was to be incognito.

He softly rehearsed what he would say to his neighbor if they ever met as he took a hot shower, even giving himself pause to make sure his words made sense. As he readies himself for bed, he runs through his monologue for filming after this mini production break he is on but seems to resort back to practicing his greetings for his neighbor. How could she make him lose his focus to easily?! His head hits the pillow, forcing himself to fall asleep as fast as possible. This way he could be greeted with her presence at 5:30pm sharp, just as he has been doing every single day for the last couple of months.

Kyungsoo's alarm chimes loudly in his ear, waking him from yet another dream of her. Part of him wanted to stay floating in the fantasy world he created where she belonged to him but he knew if he dawdled a second longer, he would miss her. Stumbling out of bed, the half-asleep man rushes to make coffee and turn the television on so it is not obvious he’s waiting for her.

Don’t be weird. Even though this is the weirdest thing you’ve ever done, Doh Kyungsoo.

He pulls the curtains back ever-so-slightly and waits for her appearance. 

5:29. 

5:30.

There she is. 

Her arms are full of grocery bags, she looks tired and out of it. More than likely, it must have been a long day for her. He’d been picking up on her physical cues for some time now and her shoulders told him everything he needed to know about her day without hearing a single word. Kyungsoo wondered what her voice sounded like, was it soft like clouds? Sweet like honey? Calm like a summer breeze? He pondered over this over and over, musing over what it would take to make her laugh, what her lips tasted like…

Stop being a creep. Is it creepy that I like her and never met her? I’m not surprised, Kyungsoo thought to himself.

It was clear that she was struggling, her shoelace gets caught under her other shoe, causing her to trip. Her bags spill their contents onto her cement-paved walkway. He watches her land on her lawn, her mouth uttering curses he can’t hear but can definitely make out from how her lips move. Without thinking, Kyungsoo bolts into action and crosses the street. 

"Are you alright?" Kyungsoo asks, nervously getting to her level. The woman looks up at him and the most beautiful eyes meet his. Now he was sure what color they were, and my God was it a beautiful hue. She tilted her head in confusion, and awe of the handsome man in front of her. 

"Sorry?" Her eyes plead with him, "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Holy shit.

Kyungsoo was not expecting that beautiful of a voice to come from her. Well, to be fair, he didn’t know what to expect but her tone exceeds his expectations. He was hoping for such a harmonious sound and he got it. The man realizes what he had done and blushes in her gaze. He did exactly what he feared he would do: speak in his native language, a language she obviously does not understand. With a gulp, he hangs his head, the burn of embarrassment tingling his ears and neck as words that felt foreign on his tongue left his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry. Are you alright?" Kyungsoo helps her up and she dusts herself off. She mutters a soft thank you and their hands brush gently. Shivers run down Kyungsoo’s spine at her touch, he knew if he lingered, he’d become addicted to the sensation of her fingers touching his.

"Yes, I’m alright. No injuries except for my pride. Have we met before? Do you live nearby?" She replies, picking up a bag or two. He notices the grass stains on her skirt as gathers her groceries in their bags. He sets them neatly in a row and puts his entire focus on her.

"Maybe we crossed paths a time or two. I just moved in. I am from Korea." Kyungsoo admits. 

"Korea... Very nice! I’ve always wanted to go there. If you don't mind me asking, why did you move here? Lately there’s been so many new faces in the community, but I haven’t had a chance to meet half of my new neighbors. You’re the first so far.”

Kyungsoo debates on if he should tell her. Would she know he's an actor? Would it matter? Kyungsoo fought the rapid-fire thoughts in his head the best he could and tried to form an answer that would a) make sense and b) be in the language she understood.

"I'm... I'm here for a work project. I'm an actor." Kyungsoo lowly admits. He becomes surprised when she calmly nods as if he told her he’s an office worker.

"Makes sense. Most people that live here are. Minus myself and a few others. For the last year, the studio nearby leases a few townhomes in the complex until their projects are finished." She notes, grabbing a few grocery bags. "I'm so sorry, if it's not too much can I ask for your help getting these inside?"

"Of course I can help." Kyungsoo beams, proudly taking the rest of her grocery bags and following her. He couldn’t help but take her in from up close. She’s about an inch or two shorter than him, her body has curves that Kyungsoo eagerly travels down with his wonder-filled eyes to commit her to memory. He nervously bumbles behind her and once he passes the threshold… It is exactly how he had imagined it: not too neat, not too messy and very her… Or the idea of her in his head.

"The kitchen is here," the woman says, "Oh, my. I never asked your name."

"Doh Kyungsoo. In America it's Kyungsoo Doh, right?"

"Yes, that’s correct but you don’t need to change how you say it. It’s nice as it is. Doh Kyungsoo... Kyungsoo..." please, keep saying my name... "100 Days My Prince, right?"

Kyungsoo's eyes widen at the confirmation that she does indeed know who he is. He takes a breath and slowly nods. This can go one of two ways. She can just be a normal person or she can be completely unhinged, oh no... What have I done? 

"This is going to sound odd," she chuckles at herself, "I... Kind of knew who you were but didn’t know how to approach you without making it super weird." 

Kyungsoo blushes again, his shyness taking over. She's a fan? "So, you knew who I was?"

The beauty before him blushes this time, looking away from him. "I had a feeling, but I figured I could be wrong. You probably get recognized a lot. Like I said, there is quite a few actors living in this complex for work. I would not want to make you feel uncomfortable. You are truly kind for taking the time to help me. Thank you."

"Tell me your name." Kyungsoo can sense his desperation in his voice as he leans on the counter. He hears her name roll off her tongue, the sound of it echoing in his ears. He repeats it softly, then looks up at her.

"Beautiful," Kyungsoo breathes.

“Thanks.” She smiles again, now all he wants to do is make her smile like that again and again… Possibly make her face contort in other ways if he was to be so lucky.

“So, what is it you do for work? Since we are sharing.” Kyungsoo asks, now even more curious to know every small detail about her.

“I’m screenplay writer for a network… ABC.” She replies. Kyungsoo tilts his head and wonders if it is a fake company, or she does not want to say. She catches on and chuckles softly, “it is an American broadcasting station. Shows like Grey’s Anatomy and Abbott Elementary are on the network.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen. She seems pretty important. The woman chuckles softly at Kyungsoo’s surprised look and waves her hand.

“Trust me, I am nothing special. I haven’t gotten a chance to work on a big show like those just yet. I have written for other networks, but nothing major like a prime-time show. Right now, I am in between projects, trying to find a home with a writing team. Since you helped me… Forgive me if this is a bit forward but would you like to stay for dinner?”

There was no hesitation as he looked at her with his head already nodding.

“I would love to.”

“Great! I was planning on making steak and pasta, is that okay? No dietary issues or…”

“I have been craving steak for months. I have been on a diet for my role, and I need an excuse to break it, and your offer is the best excuse to go rogue.” Kyungsoo smirks, enjoying how her eyes crinkle when she laughs. She moves swiftly in the kitchen, taking the groceries out of the bags and setting up everything she needs to cook. He watches her for a moment, then realizes he doesn’t want to just spectate. He wants to cook with her and feels this is a great way to brag about his chef experience.

“Would you like some help? I’m… I’m a licensed chef in Korea.” The man stutters, his confidence waning as the seconds stretch to what feels like minutes in his mind.

“A chef? I’m starting to like you even more than I did a few moments ago, Doh Kyungsoo.” Her reply sounds flirtatious. Is it flirtatious? Kyungsoo’s ears warm and he stands beside her, looking over the ingredients laid out on the counter, “I’m not exactly a chef, this is probably one of the only meals I know how to cook. There really isn’t much room for cooking with the schedule I have.”

“Don’t you worry, I can give you a few pointers… If you’ll let me.” Kyungsoo hears his voice drop lower, that adorable crimson spreads across the woman’s cheeks. It is funny how his lack of confidence is making her bashful, and how that reaction alone fills him with pride. She watches him chop and prep the ingredients with ease, he loved every second of her eyes on him.

“You seem to know what you’re doing, I might have to take you up on that offer.” She smirks. “So, tell me more about your cooking experience, what made you want to become a chef?”

“Well… It started when I was in high school…” Kyungsoo began to tell her the story of how his love for culinary arts came to be. He had been helping around the house after his mother had a minor surgery and his older brother had assigned Kyungsoo kitchen duty. He had to search up how to cook basic recipes and followed them to the letter out of anxiety of killing everyone in his family by food poisoning. The anxiety quickly turned to ease as he fell into a rhythm. He enjoyed how the aroma of the dishes made him feel accomplished, calm and the idea of serving his hardworking parents pushed him even further to cook regularly.

Kyungsoo’s mother championed this idea, she wanted her son to be independent and not rely on anyone to do basic survival skills for him. As Kyungsoo relayed the story, the woman beside him rests her elbows on the counter fully immersed in him. He could feel his heart flutter at the attention. Being wonderstruck by how quickly they drew each other in, the conversation continued, each of them sharing little anecdotes as Kyungsoo absentmindedly took over the kitchen. What once was small glances through a window turned into a back-and-forth conversation between two familiar strangers.

The clock wound down the hours and the sun set behind the Los Angeles hills, but the two neighbors became familiar as time went on. Kyungsoo learned that his neighbor wasn’t from Los Angeles, she had moved here a couple years ago for work. She preferred black tea over coffee, her favorite color was mint green, and she was an only child. She spent her summers on her grandparent's farm in the countryside of a place he had never heard of but could picture perfectly as she described the flat land and meadows she would adventure on. The little bits she told Kyungsoo was not enough. He wanted more. He needed more.

Kyungsoo thanked the woman for her hospitality, reluctant to leave her. It was now or never, he had to see her again. What made it difficult was his schedule, it was going to get more demanding after this rare day off he had.

“Thank you again for helping me and giving me company.” She said as she leaned on the wall of the entryway to her house.

“It’s no problem, really. I’m glad that I was available to help.” Kyungsoo softly replies. The words were on the tip of his tongue, he was going to ask her out. But before he could, she took a breath and crossed her arms over her chest.

“So, how long have you been watching me through your living room window?” She giggles. Kyungsoo could feel the color draining from his face at the prospect of her knowing he was watching her like a stalker. Yet, she’s smiling. It did not make any sense; he was caught red handed and she is smiling? “Do you think I dress this nice every day on purpose? I was… Trying to get your attention, for awhile I thought maybe I failed or was delusional at the prospect of you looking at me.”

“No, no. It worked. It definitely worked. I love looking at you.” Kyungsoo blurts, immediately regretting his words. Now I blew it.

“I’m relieved that you do. Is it possible that we can see each other again?” Is she asking me out?

“It’s a possibility,” Kyungsoo replies smoothly, “maybe you can come to my place for dinner next time. If that’s okay. Is that okay?”

Her laugh echoes in Kyungsoo’s mind, he can’t believe this all worked out the way that it did.

“It’s definitely okay. You don’t have to be so nervous, Kyungsoo.” She reaches out and grazes his arm, her gaze warmly meeting his.

“I’ll have to look at my filming schedule and get back to you, but I promise you won’t be waiting long. I want to see you again soon.” Kyungsoo affirms, taking his phone out and offering it to her. “Can I get your number?”

She happily takes his phone and types her number in the contact, playfully setting her contact name as Girl in 111, her house number. She does the same and Kyungsoo sets his contact name as Guy in 112, enjoying this little game they are playing. The short walk home felt like 100 miles to Kyungsoo. He turned and saw her standing in the doorway, waving softly.

It worked out exactly how he imagined, and couldn’t wait to discover more of her.

[rikyangi]

— Love and Hate • Chansoo

— Escrito pro Kaimeow

Sinopse:

Kyungsoo odiava Chanyeol. Principalmente quando ele derrubava seus livros de propósito toda a manhã na troca de horários.

[rems-writing]

Doberman cafe but a Maltese owns it?

Pairing: barista!Yeosang x office worker!reader

Summary: This will be tied to the dilf YunGi fics I posted a while back but this time, the reader will have no connection to any of the characters. Just a heads up lol

Warning(s): Swearing, yelling, Yeosang being a total softie for the reader, reader is a certified simp for Yeosang (i mean who wouldn't be lol), mentions of a non-Ateez member

Genre: A shit ton of fluff lol

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

Originally, I was going to post a Hongjoong fic. However, in observance of the birth of the man named Kang Yeosang, I've decided to post this first before the Joong fic.

Thank you to @bunnliix for helping me decide the order of the remaining fics that I should write and post

The calming effect of the soft jazz music playing in the background of the Doberman Cafe provided much needed soothing effort for those that entered the small coffee shop. From college students to families that wanted a day out, the owner would always greet his customers with a smile.

Kang Yeosang was happy where he was at. After quitting his old job, he found it relaxing to grind coffee and mix in various ingredients to create caffeinated drinks varying from sweet to bitter. He also got some help from his best friend Jung Wooyoung, who was currently in the back baking various pastries. The two have been friends since diapers and they vowed to never abandon the other.

Yeosang has heard tales of Wooyoung's other best friend getting together with Jeong Yunho and the widow of Doh Kyungsoo dating Song Mingi.

When would it be his turn?

Business was slow as usual for today. After all, it was Friday so most of his usual customers weren't coming in which was fine. It gave the man time to relax and rest his hands from making coffee. The bell attached above the front door chimed and Yeosang looked up. He was getting ready to greet the customer with a kind smile when he heard the argument that came through.

"LISTEN, JONES! I DON'T FUCKING CARE IF HE ACTS LIKE A DAMN CHILD THROWING A TANTRUM! HE SHOULD'VE THOUGHT TWICE BEFORE FUCKING CHEATING ON ME!"

Oh dear. This person sounded angry. Wooyoung must've noticed Yeosang's confusion and slight fear since he poked his head out of the back and heard the unintentionally loud conversation this person had with this Jones person.

"HE HAD THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT?! OH HELL NAH! I'M OVER HERE BUSTING MY ASS LEFT AND RIGHT 24/7 TO BRING FOOD ON THE TABLE AND PAY RENT WHILE HE SITS ON HIS ASS AND DOES ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING! AND YET HE HAS THE GALL TO SAY, 'yOu nEvER mAkE tiMe fOr me' STRAIGHT TO MY FACE?! AT LEAST I DIDN'T SLEEP WITH HIS BEST FRIEND!"

Oh. This just got interesting. As Yeosang saw the customer sit down, he couldn't help but to be smitten with them. Sure, they were angry as hell and very much stressed yet he couldn't help it. He tilted his head and eavesdropped some more. Unintentionally.

"Look, Jones! After gathering the divorce papers, make sure you also provide documents for a restraining order against my soon to be ex-husband. It may be too much, but I don't care. I'm so fucking tired! I'm just... done. Let me know when those papers are finished and fax them to me. My boss won't care. He knows of the shit that's happening to me right now. Hence, that strangely kind offer for me to take a trip down to the Bahamas. Anyways, I have to go. Tell your wife and kids I said hi."

You hung up after your attorney and former college roommate Jones bid you goodbye. You groaned quietly and laid your head on the table that you sat at. You felt someone sit across from you and you were about to tell them to kindly fuck off when you lifted your head and was immediately greeted with a statue staring down at you with big brown eyes that were full of curiosity and wonder.

'HOLY SHIT! I KNOW THAT A LOT OF PEOPLE SAY THAT THE OWNER WAS HANDSOME, BUT THEY CERTAINLY DIDN'T TELL ME HOW HANDSOME! AND HE'S SO CUTE TOO! LIKE A MALTESE!'

'Quit it, Y/N! He probably thinks you're a lunatic with the way he must've heard you scream over the phone.'

'Damn it! Ok I'll stop my simping...'

After you finished internally scolding yourself, you looked down to see him move a white teacup slowly in your direction, along with a slice of cake.

"Hey. I figured you'd need this. I didn't mean to, but I overheard you yelling at someone over a certain douchebag that's also a man-child. Hopefully, this cheers you up." He said in a rich honey-like deep voice.

In the cup was a freshly brewed batch of lavender green tea and on the plate was a slice of black cherry chiffon cake. You smiled sheepishly and thanked him shyly for the treats.

When you sipped the tea, all the stress over your cheating soon-to-be ex-husband washed away and you instantly relaxed. You then picked up your fork and took a piece of the cafe before eating it.

You were in heaven. You definitely needed this.

"Um... thank you." Your voice came out softer than usual and had a twinge of shyness to it. Yeosang smiled and beckoned for Wooyoung to come sit with you.

Wooyoung was extremely sexy, but not as sexy as the man sitting across from you.

"I hope you guys don't mind me coming in here at this ungodly hour. If you haven't heard, I'm... kind of going through a lot right now."

Wooyoung, who was usually loud as hell, softened his voice.

"It's no problem. Fridays are our slowest days and since Saturday is our day off, we usually stay in here until we decide to go home. You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"Thank you. By the way, these are amazing."

"Thank you! I made the cake." Wooyoung proudly said with a smile.

"And I made the tea." Yeosang said. "Speaking of which, would you like to spill the tea on your oh-so shabby life?"

You found yourself smiling at that and Yeosang found his heart beating rapidly with excitement.

"Oof. Where do I start?"

From there, you spilled the tea on everything. From your recent tragic event to your life in general, you said it all. Yeosang and Wooyoung were sassy and savage and you found yourself giggling at their quick and witty responses. Finally, you felt yourself becoming sleepy and you yawned. Yeosang found the sound cute. Wooyoung cleared the dishes while Yeosang stood up and help you with your things.

"Would it be possible to walk you home? Not only do I enjoy your company but uh... the Namhae Strongman is still out there. You need to stay alive in order to sign those divorce papers and file that restraining order against that ex of yours."

You shivered at the thought of the killer coming after you. Even though you were angry at your ex, you wished him well enough to pray for his safety.

The Namhae Strongman is not someone you'd want to mess with.

"Of course, Yeosang. I live down the block from here so it'll be a short walk."

Yeosang grinned excitedly and your heart ached in adoration for the human personification of a Maltese. After Wooyoung locked up the shop, you three headed to your apartment. You talked some more and kept an eye out for any suspicious activity or sign of the killer. Finally, you reached your apartment.

"Thanks for the walk home. Oh and for the tea & cake as well. How much do I owe you by the way?"

"It's on the house."

"No no, Yeosang. It's ok. I seriously need to repay you-"

"Repay me by giving me your number. So you can send updates."

Wow. He was smooth.

You blushed lightly and nodded before exchanging numbers with him. After that, you bid him goodbye and entered your apartment. You sighed dreamily as you closed the door behind you and locked it. You set your keys on the counter and made your way to the kitchen, where your roommate was still awake.

"So... you got a new man now?" He teased you and smirked at your reaction.

"Shut up, Jongho!"

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

A couple of days later, you found yourself in Doberman Cafe again. Insomnia was being a bitch to you so you woke up way earlier than Jongho. Sighing to yourself, you threw on a hoodie and walked to the coffee shop before looking for the one person you were majorly simping for.

He just so happened to be standing in front of you with a grin on his face.

"Good morning, lovely."

The pet name gave you butterflies.

Yeosang led you to your seat from Friday night and sat down across from you.

"What will it be today?"

"I'll get a caffe mocha with a soymilk substitute and if possible, a slice of that black cherry cake?"

"Ahh. Now with that cake, it only pairs with tea since it's sweet. Unless you have a giant sweet tooth, I'd recommend some of our breakfast sandwiches. Specifically, a roast beef sandwich with a fried egg all on ciabatta bread that's toasted to perfection."

"Ooh! In this case, I'll have that then. And maybe later, when I leave, can I get an iced americano to go?"

"Sure thing, lovely. It'll be $10 by the way. For your order and that iced americano."

You pulled out a $10 bill and gave it to Yeosang before seeing him walk away and do his magic. While you waited, you received a text from Jones.

Jones: Hey. I'd thought I'd stop by and give you the papers myself. Are you home?

You: No. I'm at the Doberman Cafe. I couldn't sleep anymore so I'd figure I'd stop by here and wake myself up.

Jones: Oh? Ok bet. I heard from my wife that the owner is handsome. Maybe I'll see for myself. ;)

Jones: Can't a man appreciate another man's good looks?

You: And I oop -

You: Don't go simping for the barista now, Jones. You're married and he's actually mine fyi

You: Of course you can. Just don't go full on simp mode. XD

Jones: Like you? XD

You: Fuck you <3

Jones: Ew. No thanks <3

You: Hurry with the fuck ass papers, you dickhead.

Jones: Ok ok! XD

"Is that Jones?" Yeosang asked curiously. You would expect the Maltese to be jealous, but since he overheard your conversation two nights away, he wasn't too worried.

"Yeah. He's coming by here to drop off the divorce papers and the necessary documents to file a restraining order." You clarified to him. "I know I said that he'd fax them to me, but I didn't think he would get them that fast. Hence, why he's coming over to drop them off himself."

Yeosang nodded and set your coffee and meal down before sitting next to you. You thanked him and began to eat. You two made small talk and even introduced Yeosang to Jones when Jones came walking in to deliver the papers. Yeosang grabbed a pen and you happily retrieved it from him before signing the papers. After that, Jones put all of those papers away and bid you goodbye before buying a coffee from Yeosang and going home.

A weight lifted off your shoulders and you felt at ease. Yeosang was feeling the same way, especially since he found you attractive.

Little did he know that you felt the same way.

"Now that it has been done, want to turn this little encounter into a date?"

Yeosang was shocked by your boldness but he eventually nodded eagerly.

"I would love nothing more than that."

[myrainbowgelpen]

EXO — fic rec

I’d do anything if it meant this could be forever

BYUN BAEKHYUN

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ fluff ₊˚౨ৎ˚₊smut ₊˚౨ৎ˚₊angst ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

PARK CHANYEOL ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

to be updated…

DOH KYUNGSOO ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

to be updated…

OH SEHUN ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

to be updated…

[iinterludia]

Doh Kyungsoo e o Alto Rei Elfo

Sinopse: Após um acidente que o dispensou do exército, Kyungsoo decide recomeçar sua vida em outro país, buscando escapar de seu passado e encontrar alguma normalidade. No entanto, sua rotina é abruptamente interrompida quando ele se depara com um homem misterioso, alto e vestido de maneira estranha, que o observa intensamente antes de desmaiar. Chanyeol, o rei elfo, foi transportado para um mundo diferente do seu durante um ataque ao seu reino. E após 600 anos de busca, finalmente reencontra Kyungsoo. Sem saber como retornar ao seu reino, Chanyeol é acolhido pelo ex-militar, mesmo este duvidando da sanidade do rei elfo. Kyungsoo, surpreendentemente, se sente bem ao lado dele e aquele vazio que ele sempre sentiu, estranhamente diminui. Por estar em um lugar onde a natureza élfica nunca existiu, o rei corre perigo, por isso Kyungsoo precisa decidir entre cortar a comunicação com a realeza élfica e deixá-lo ir, ou embarcar junto para a Terra média sem a possibilidade de voltar para sua casa.

TÍTULO:  Doh Kyungsoo e o Alto Rei Elfo AUTOR(ES): Interludia CATEGORIA:EXO  COUPLE: CHANSOO (CHANYEOL & KYUNGSOO) GÊNERO: ROMANCE, FANTASIA TAGS: chansoo, soulmates, elfos, terra média ONDE LER: Spirit Fanfiction ◈ AO3 ◈ Wattpad ◈ +Fiction ◈ Nyah Fanfiction

Oiê, o post de hoje é uma divulgação! Yaay!

Como puderam ver pela capa, sinopse e detalhes da fic, essa chansoo lindinha é minha baby de reestreia depois de 12 anos sem escrever uma fic.

A verdade, maninhos, é que eu tenho uns plots e outros que vão surgindo do nada. Às vezes fico pensando se o que vem na minha cabeça já não é uma das fics que eu li e acho que é um plot novo kk.

Vamos ao que interessa:

Doh Kyungsoo e o Alto Rei Elfo, apelidado carinhosamente de DKARE, conta a história de como o rei elfo, Chanyeol, reencontra seu amado após 600 anos. Adivinha quem é o mô dele? Isso mesmo, o ex-piloto da aeronáutica, Doh Kyungsoo. 

Mas como eles se reencontram se eles fazem parte de diferentes mundos? Kyungsoo vive sua pacata vida com uma estranha e interminável sensação de vazio e Chanyeol detém o título de maior autoridade élfica na Terra Média, mas está definhando de tristeza, qual a probabilidade de Kyungsoo ser a pessoa que Chanyeol procura? E qual a probabilidade do Kyung acreditar no cara maluco que apareceu no seu terreno às seis da manhã?

Para os amantes de EXO e do Universo Tolkien, descubra acompanhando DKARE, toda quarta-feira nas seguintes plataformas de fanfics: 

Spirit Fanfiction ◈ AO3 ◈ Wattpad ◈ +Fiction ◈ Nyah Fanfiction

Sim, eu joguei em todos os lugares que eu tinha conta. 

XOXO, Interludia.

[yeolsaintlaurent]

member : doh kyungsoo hihi relationship w reader : potential lover genre : angst and fluff plot : hi hi. uh, i don't know if this makes sense but uhm, is it okay if you'll write something about kyungsoo being like zac efron from the greatest showman? and reader's like zendaya. i'm sorry huhu it's just his cover of rewrite the stars with akmu's suhyun just made me melt. thank you so much! fic type : one-shot

Hii anon! Thank you for your request. Gives me the perfect opportunity to rewatch the movie ^^ Also also the cover was so perfect TT TT I'll get to it as soon as the fourth chapter for Nocturnal Reverie is up on my blog. Hope you will love what I come up with w this request.

Thanks again, April <3

[itstheoneshot]

Professional 

request

Summary: You’ve always had a soft spot for your CEO, having worked for him for such a long time now, you’ve climbed the corporate ladder to a seat on the board, and it’s all thanks to him.

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: D.O. x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Public Sex.

You are sitting in the meeting room, in amongst your co-workers, and you smile as you make eye contact with your boss, CEO Doh Kyungsoo. The meeting has gone on for a while now, surely close to finishing, and you are trying to stay focused. You haven’t been on the board for long, having spent the last few years as an intern, you are finally starting to feel confident in your position at the company. You had spent years studying for this, working day in and day out, being coached by the lovely CEO, you are making a name for yourself, and are now in a respectable place amongst the staff.

As the meeting comes to a close, you wait a moment for those around you to stand before joining them, though as you rise to your feet, you feel a familiar tap on your shoulder.

“Can you stay back for a minute, love?”

Your gaze connects with that of your boss, he stares at you with kindness in his eyes, and a soft smile. You nod, and lean back on the table as you wait for everyone else to leave. You are patient, as Kyungsoo bids everyone farewell, except for you of course, and you watch as he follows the last person to the door, before shutting it, and then turning back to you.

“Is everything alright, sir?” You ask tentatively, as Kyungsoo returns to his seat, he sits spread-legged, leaning back into the chair.

“It’s okay, doll. I just wanted to have a quick chat.” He replies, gesturing for you to come closer.

You walk around to his side of the board table, and stand less than a metre from him. He eyes you up and down, as he ponders his next words. You begin to feel a little nervous under his watchful gaze, though he reads this from you, and smiles once more.

“I need to talk to you about professionalism, love.” He continues, as your mind begins to race.

“Oh? What did I do?” You ask worriedly, trying to recall everything you had said during the meeting, though you can’t think of anything that you could have said wrong.

“It’s not what you did, sweetheart. It’s what you are wearing, just look at you.” He advises, raising a hand to gesture at your body.

You look down, at your tight-fitting white blouse, tucked into a gray-plaid pleated skirt. The skirt is short, too short, you now know, and your legs are bare underneath, no stockings, though it is the middle of summer, so you thought it was too warm. You wear black heeled boots on your feet, they accentuate your legs, though apparently too much, according to your boss.

“I— I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t think this was inappropriate, but I know better now.” You stutter, feeling a blush run to your cheeks.

“No, angel, it’s okay. Don’t be upset, you just need to be a little more careful next time.” He soothes you, reaching out to take your hand.

You nod, looking down at your feet while you will your tears away. You feel so stupid for messing up like this, and even more so for getting emotional like you are right now.

Kyungsoo tugs on your hand, pulling you closer to him, your knees knock against one of his, as you stop yourself from coming any closer.

“My lovely girl, don’t cry... look at me.” He urges.

You lift your head to look at him, tears welling in your eyes despite how hard you are fighting them down. Kyungsoo takes your other hand, now holding both with both of his, he guides you to step even closer to him, so you’re standing with one of his legs in between both of yours.

“Yes, sir?” You ask quietly.

He lifts one of your hands to his mouth, pressing those soft, luscious lips to your fingers in a gentle kiss, he gazes up at you with an intent stare.

“I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about you, okay? You’re a good girl, even when you don’t dress like one, right?”

“Mhmm,” You nod, “I promise, I’m good.”

Kyungsoo smirks, as he pulls your hands down, supporting you to rest on his thigh. You pout at him, as you try to stand back up, conscious of how exposed you feel, with only your thin panties on under your skirt, you can feel every muscle through his trousers, though this is exactly where he wanted you.

“Are you sure, Princess?” He asks, chuckling as you whine when he tenses his leg under you.

“Y-yes, sir.” You respond, gasping as he tenses up again.

Kyungsoo lifts his heel off the floor, pressing his thigh into you, and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You are ashamed at how quickly arousal flows through your body, your cheeks flush a deep red as Kyungsoo pulls you harder down on him. You gasp, biting your lip as you try to contain yourself, though your hips reflexively grind against the muscle pressed to your core.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little flustered there, angel.” Kyungsoo purrs, only making your cheeks blush harder.

You try to pull your hands away from his, wanting to cover your face, but his grip on your wrists only gets tighter, and he clicks his tongue at you.

“You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted to wear a short skirt, so you could show me your pretty legs, wanted me to touch you?” He croons, moving your hands so that he can rest them on your thighs, his fingers tickling against your bare skin.

You want to deny him, but you know that he is right. You know that you love the way he stares at you, his eyes dark and full of lust, you love the way that he gets when you tease him just a little too much, when he tells you what to do, how to act, what to feel.

“Use your words, doll. Good girls know to use their words...” He teases, letting go of your wrists so that he can hold your thighs instead.

You nod, before mumbling another “Yes, sir.” as Kyungsoo’s hands trace up your thighs, reaching the hem of your skirt, and running his fingers underneath it, close, painfully close.

“Oh baby, you need this, don’t you? Feels good, huh?” Kyungsoo asks, lifting his heel again, though this time you don’t hold back in grinding down onto him.

“Ah, fuck yes, sir.” You whine, as Kyungsoo finds your core through your panties.

As he runs his finger across your clothed slit, you watch him bite his lip as he takes a deep exhale, grounding himself, as you grow ever desperate for more.

“Shit, you’re wet doll, gonna make a mess of my pants.” Kyungsoo groans, you can see him faltering.

You break eye contact to stare down at his lap, noticing the growing bulge, though Kyungsoo doesn’t give himself up this easily, and you know it. Though he sees you staring, and it makes him chuckle, you lift your gaze to his again.

“Want something?” He asks cheekily, raising a brow at you.

“You, sir. I want you.” You reply breathlessly, as every second with his thigh against you has you wanting more.

“You know the rules, angel, you gotta show me you can cum first before I help you.” He replies, teasing your entrance for only a moment more before pulling his hands away.

You attempt to take a hand to your wet, though Kyungsoo immediately grabs your wrists instead, shaking his head at you.

“No hands, babydoll. You can do this without them, I know you can.” He assures you.

You whimper as you grind yourself into his leg, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in you, though you are not sure if you can get yourself there. Grinding your clit into your CEO’s thigh, panting as you pull yourself closer to release, not close enough, you feel like you might start crying if you can’t get there soon.

“Having trouble, angel?” He teases, watching as you desperately try to help yourself.

You stare down at his crotch again, and find yourself imagining riding his cock instead, knowing the way it fills you up just right. You find this helps a little, you picture his lips on you, you think about him having you bent over the table like he has done so many times before, fuck, you’re getting close.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, baby?” Kyungsoo asks, mesmerised by your moaning as you fuck yourself on his thigh.

“Can I, sir? Can I please cum?” You ask, knowing from experience that permission is a must before you do anything.

“Hmm,” He ponders, “How badly do you want to?”

You whimper as you try to contain yourself, but with each second that passes, and the way that Kyungsoo’s hands now rest on your hips, helping you get closer to climax, you are struggling to speak, or focus on anything at all.

“I need it sir, please, I need it.” You whine, as your toes begin to curl, and your thighs twitch.

“Cum, doll, show me how good it feels.” He urges you.

You don’t need to be asked twice, as you let your orgasm break through, arousal flows from you, soaking your panties through to Kyungsoo’s suit pants, as you moan, breathing laboured, as you lose yourself on him.

“Good girl...” He soothes, “and now it’s my turn.”

Kyungsoo guides you to sit on the table behind him, laughing as he watches your body shake, he looks down at his pants, the wet patch so prominent on his black trousers.

“Fuck, doll, gonna need new pants, but first, priorities.” He purrs, standing up to unbuckle his belt.

His pants drop to the floor, at the same time as he guides you to lift your hips, pulling your panties from you and discarding them aside. Now, finally, he leans in to kiss you with those plump, soft lips. You melt into the embrace, as Kyungsoo takes his cock to your cunt, dripping and sensitive from your first high, he wastes no time entering you, thrusting in to bottom out.

“Oh, Princess, your pussy is fucking perfect.” He moans, grabbing you by the hips, bringing you in to meet him as he pulls out to thrust back in again.

You are dizzy at this point, overwhelmed as being filled up is all that is on your mind. You got what you wanted, and now Kyungsoo is after only one thing, chasing his own high as he fucks into you. Watching you cum for him, cum on him, had him so close to finishing already, but he needed your tight walls around him to get him there.

“So good, sir, you fuck me so good.” You drawl, wrapping your legs around his waist for support as you throw your head back.

Kyungsoo kisses from your lips, and down your neck, his hot breath on your skin sends shivers down your spine. The angle he fucks you in is just right, hitting your g-spot, you are going to lose yourself again, though he wants this too.

“You want to cum again already, doll? You’re lucky I have another meeting, we have to be quick.” He tells you, feeling the way you clench around him each time he thrusts harder.

“Sir... please?” You ask, your pitch jumping an octave as he speeds up.

He does not reply, instead lifting your chin, bringing your lips to his, his kisses enough to tell you that it is time to let go. You do again, though this time with the man inside you, the sensation is completely different. You gasp, as only moments later you feel Kyungsoo follow suit, filling you up, as he clumsily thrusts out his seed, his moans mixing with yours in a beautiful harmony.

“My lovely girl.” He sighs as he pulls out of you.

You blush, as he reaches down to hand your panties to you, and you stretch your legs out to pull them back on. You swing your legs from your position seated on the table as Kyungsoo dresses himself, and then leans in to kiss you a final time. He leans back to admire you, and winks before he speaks again.

“You need to watch yourself, sweet angel. You have to be professional.”

[breakyeol]

— SQUIRM, BABY.

You don’t like Doh Kyungsoo. Especially not when he’s got his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you and your seeing stars —goddamn stars!— but can’t make a sound unless you want the entire library to know exactly what he’s doing to you under the table.

┗ Pairing: Tutor!Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: college au, tutor au, enemies w benefits au, smut

Words: 4.7k 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, sexual acts in a public setting, fingering

A/N; tomorrow is going to be my 1 year anniversary as an EXO-L!! oh my goodness that feels so crazy, time really flies. so here is a little present from me to you, enjoy lovelies!!

“These are all wrong,” Kyungsoo mutters blankly, “start over.”

A loud groan is ripped from your throat, the sound earning you more than a few sideways glares from the surrounding tables but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been here for two hours, studying one of the most intolerable subjects in the world: Calculus. The mere mention of its name made you shiver in disgust.

To be blunt, you’d always been shit at math. Numbers and equations were never your strong suit, not in high school and definitely not now with the added complexities of derivatives and differential equations (neither of which made even the slightest bit of sense to you). You much preferred the gentleness of literature and history to the strict logic and rules of mathematics and science. Unfortunately for you, the latter subjects were just as vital a part of your education, and opting out of them was not an option.

“Can’t we take a break?” You almost whine the question, pressing your fingers into your throbbing temples. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No.”

You scowl at the bluntness of his rejection. “I’m paying you.” You point out, stabbing a finger into his bicep for emphasis. “Shouldn’t I have a say in when we take a break?”

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away and shoving the paper back in your direction. “I’m giving you your money’s worth. Do it again.”

You let out a noisy huff of air, slouching over dramatically in the stiff plastic chair until your chin is pressed against the cold table. “I hope you know I am deeply regretting some of my life decisions right about now.” You grumble, shooting him an icy glare that you hope conveys the absolute loathing you feel for both him and the set of problems laid before you.

“I thought that was a daily thing for you.”

Scoffing, you bury your mouth in the thick sleeve of your hoodie. “Your face is a daily thing for me.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at you, though you could almost feel the intensity of his deadpan. “I think that was the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“Your face is the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“You do realize that that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Your fa—”

“Shut up and do your work.”

He either doesn’t hear or consciously chooses to ignore the colorful array of curses you grumble spitefully in his direction, though simultaneously resigning yourself to the fact that you won’t be able to put off your work inevitably. Kyungsoo was a stickler for proper time management. If he had an agenda set in place for your tutoring session (which he always did), then you better believe he’d be checking off each item within its designated time frame. And if you don’t cooperate— well then, your best bet is to pray that there isn’t a mechanical pencil within his reach.

He might not always be able to reach the top shelf, but Kyungsoo had ways of getting what he wanted. Usually, that chilling glare was enough to get those around him to bend to his will. He could be a scary little shit when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, even you had been the tiniest bit intimidated when you first met him. He was quiet, reserved, strict in manner, but also the dangerous unpredictable type, you gathered that much quickly enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you didn’t get on too well.

Where he was cool and standoffish, “a man of few words” some might say, you were more vocal about your opinions, social by nature, always eager to meet new people and make new connections. You had a tendency to speak loudly when excited and talk with your hands when passionate about a subject. That was something most people learned about you very quickly. Unfortunately, upon your first official meeting at a party in your freshman year with your mutual friends, Kyungsoo had no idea just how emphatic you could be until you’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and spilled it down the front of his brand new shirt.

It was an accident, of course. You’d apologized profusely and he’d accepted it (albeit somewhat begrudgingly), but that was probably the first of many missteps in your... unique relationship.

With such conflicting personalities, it was understandable that you got into frequent arguments about one thing or another. Petty disagreements would often grow into something larger than they really needed to be. Mostly because despite having such contrasting personalities, you shared the trait of innate stubbornness, neither of you willing to admit when you were wrong. It was easy to argue with him, and you liked when you proved him wrong. You liked the way his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed. You liked the way he glared, the way his lips pouted. You like the challenge he presented you with every time he opened his mouth. Above, you loved to win. Especially when it was against him.

So you pushed, and he pushed right back. And before you knew it, you found yourself a proper ‘frenemy’, though you aren’t sure that that’s quite the right word to describe whatever it was you two were.

But that’s just how the two of you are, how you’d always been. If you were being honest, riling him, seeing that usually so stoic, so controlled expression crack when you pushed just the right buttons— it was fun. You thoroughly enjoyed fucking with him, discovering new and creative ways to get under his skin. And you knew he got just as much satisfaction from doing the same to you, rendering you speechless with witty comebacks, flustering you with his sharp tongue and impressive rebukes.

So really, was it such a terrible thing?

Not to mention, a number of not-so-terrible things occurred as a result of one of your many arguments, such as hiring him as your calculus tutor. One that started out with you claiming he would probably be the shittiest teacher to ever exist (which seemed a valid argument at the time considering how short tempered and impatient he could be *cough* with you *cough*) to which he rebutted with the claim that he could “teach a goldfish advanced calculus” if he set his mind to it, and considering that you “had an IQ equivalent to one”, he could without a doubt teach you. His words, obviously.

It just so happened that you had a calculus exam coming up that next week, so to prove his point, he tutored you for the three days preceding said test. Even though you loathe being proven wrong, you ended up getting one of the highest scores you’d ever gotten on a math test in your entire academic career.

Putting your pride aside, you made the suggestion that he continue to tutor you. He only agreed when you offered him green in exchange for his troubles and admitted that he was right (it took a few extra hours to convince yourself that your grades should be held above your ego before you could bring yourself to verbally admit defeat).

And now here you are, not flunking out of calculus. You’d consider that worthy of the bruise to your pride, even if only by a small margin.

“Kyungsoo, why’d you mark this one wrong?” You frown at the large red X marking problem two as incorrect. You’d been glaring at your scribbled work for almost two minutes, running over the problem in your head, but you couldn’t seem to figure out where he thought you’d gone wrong. It looks right enough to you.

Kyungsoo shifts over to get a better look, his arms pressing against yours in the process and you are briefly stunned by the sudden, unexpected closeness, wholly unable to stop yourself from noticing the faint, woody scent of his aftershave that caresses your senses. Fuck. You can’t tell if you hate or love the fact that he smelled so good. Partly love it because good hygiene is always something to admire in a man (even if that man was Doh Kyungsoo), partly hate it because dammit it’s Doh Kyungsoo and you loathe finding anything that has to do with him attractive. Plus, it’s distracting. You’re here trying to learn and he has the audacity to go around smelling like pine trees and fresh moss after a rainfall. Unfair.

“Right here.”

The scowl you don’t realize you’re wearing immediately drops away as the low baritone of his voice thrums through the cavity of your ribcage and you lean forward to see exactly what he’s pointing at.

“You multiplied straight through instead of distributing.” He explains further upon seeing the uncertainty on your face. A few seconds of further inspection and you finally see what he’s talking about.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “I’m so stupid.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” He reassures.

“Yeah, but I should know that by now, I should’ve—” you turn your head, only to nearly choke on air as you discover that any space that once existed between the two of you has virtually disappeared, “... seen it.”

He’s close, so close that you can feel the cool rush of his breath against your skin as he exhales, goosebumps bristling across your arms in response. He’s close. Too close. You can’t think straight, can’t even breathe. The moment that surrounds you feels fragile, like even the slightest disruption would rupture it completely.

Frozen, you can only swallow around the sudden dryness of your mouth as your treacherous eyes drop to trace the plush line of his lips. Who even has lips like that? They’re just so big and so pink, that dark, kissable kind of pink that every girl just wishes her lips could be. You, included. They look soft, and you can’t help but to wonder if they’d still taste like the strawberry bubblegum he’d been chewing on at the beginning of your tutoring session.

“Careful, ___.” The sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, raspier than you recall it being before and laced in a faintly taunting pitch, is enough to break you from your trance and, once freed, you whip your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash.

“Fuck off.” You cough, jaw clenching as you attempt to drag your mind out from the gutter and back onto the calculus problems you have yet to correct. But for whatever reason your brain refuses to cooperate, instead filling your head with images of his pretty mouth and everything it could be doing instead of rambling on about something as uninteresting as calculus. Damnit.

No doubt seeing the distress written clearly across your face, Kyungsoo chuckles, the sound low and smooth where it drips from his lips, and a familiar heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach.

You can feel his eyes on you now, every cell of your being suddenly hyperaware of his presence beside you. The pressure of his knee where it nudges against yours, the teasing curl of his lips as he watches you struggle to focus, the warmth of his palm caressing up your thigh, the— wait what?

Your gaze whips down, breath hitching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s hand gently gripping the lagging clad flesh just above your knee. It’s another few seconds before you’re able to find your voice again.

“W– What’re you—?”

“Focus.” He cuts you off smoothly, fingers soothing over the inside of your leg, squeezing gently. When you don’t look away from him, he smirks, jerking his chin forward in a manner you can only interpret as challenging. There’s a familiar glint in his eye, a dangerous glint that doesn’t fail to provoke your competitive side. You know that look well. He’s challenging you.

And you don’t back down from a challenge.

Especially not from Doh Kyungsoo.

Determination flairs up inside of you, your jaw clenching as you strike him with a single, heated glare that read plain and simple ‘you. are. on.’ before honing all your attention onto the worksheet in front of you. It’s not too difficult to focus at first, to disregard the tingles that erupt across your skin where his hot touch sears into it. You manage to find and correct your error in one of the problems (impressive for you even if Kyungsoo wasn’t feeling your leg up under the table).

But whatever pride you find in doing so is quickly quelled when his hand suddenly shifts higher, and you feel the faintest pressure against your heat. It’s a sensation that robs you of your ability to breathe entirely for a handful of seconds, and you can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine.

This, you see, is one of the more recent developments in your oh-so complicated relationship with Doh Kyungsoo. Yet another that began with a disagreement at a party, over something you can’t even remember anymore thanks to the haze of alcohol that clouded both your minds at the time, that spiraled way out of proportion. You remember yelling at him, insulting him, stabbing your finger into his chest, feeling the sting of his lethal glare. God, he’d looked so pissed off, and you just fed off of it, fed off the rage and the frustration that festered like lava in those dark brown eyes. The angrier he got, the harder you pushed, until he finally snapped.

You’re still not sure what you expected to happen. What you expected him to do. But you sure as hell hadn’t anticipated him grabbing you by the throat and pulling you into one of the hottest, most mind numbing kisses you’d ever experienced.

Next thing you remember is being in a bed. Whose bed it was, isn’t important. What is important, however, is the fact that that night you had the best sex of your entire life with the man you thought you couldn’t stand.

Hate sex with Doh Kyungsoo opened your eyes to a whole new world of mind boggling pleasure that you’d never experienced before. Pleasure that no other person had ever been able to give you. God, the things he did to you. No one had ever touched you like that before. It was like he knew all the places on your body that made you unravel. He honestly ruined all other men for you that night because none have even come close to comparing. Which was beyond frustrating especially considering that, at the time, you thought it was a one time thing.

The morning after you both pretended that nothing happened. In the two weeks following as well, neither one of you mentioned it. You tried to erase the memory from your brain, tried to go back to normal, but it was hard considering every time you needed some sexual release (which was more often than you care to admit), it was his hands, his mouth, his cock that you imagined while you touched yourself. You replayed his moans in your head, his deep, rasping voice growling your name, and fuck, you never came harder.

But it was still nothing compared to the real thing.

As time passed you only grew more and more frustrated. Worst of all, you could tell he was feeling it too. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, with fire burning in eyes, in the way he spoke to you, with a pitch of something hot and wanting in his voice, in the way he lost his cool far quicker and far more often than he had in the past, your arguments fiercer and more frequent than they’d ever been. The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. It got to the point where even your most oblivious of friends started noticing it as well, though they knew better than to voice their curiosity.

The second time it happened, you were both sober and, somehow, it was even better than you remembered. The pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming, a feeling you can’t even put into words. Then it kept happening. Late at night when he’d show up unannounced at your door. Early in the morning when you had an important exam later in the day and you needed some pre-test de-stressing. Between classes in the back seat of his car just because you could. At parties when your friends were too shit faced to notice the two of you slipping into an unoccupied bedroom.

Just sex. That’s what you both agreed to when it became blatantly obvious that your little ‘arrangement’ wouldn’t be coming to an end any time soon. No strings. Just sex. Just really, really good sex.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Exhaling shakily through your nose, you try to block out the feeling of his thumb as it begins to caress gently up and down your clothed core, suddenly very grateful for the layers of fabric that separate you from his intoxicating touch. But it’s a gratitude that’s short lived. Just as you manage to adjust and scribble down a correction, he cups his hand over your mound and squeezes. A gasp escapes you, and you try to cover up the sound with a series of short coughs, the sting embarrassment intertwining with the warmth of pleasure as a few eyes briefly glance in your direction.

“You’re such an asshole.” You hiss under your breath, thighs tightening around his hand, locking it in place.

He throws you a lopsided grin, brows lifting and you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” What he means is you’ve called him worse.

Your lips part, but any intelligible words die on the tip of your tongue as he grinds the heel of his palm down, directly against your clit. Your head drops, eyes squeezing shut, teeth locking down firmly on your lower lip in order to silence the soft moan that threatens to break free.

“F- fuck.”

You hear him coo tauntingly beside you at your slip, the tips of his skilled fingers easily locating your entrance and prodding experimentally. At this point, you don’t doubt he can feel the fabric of your leggings growing hot and wet with your arousal.

Despite being used to the quick effect he had on your body, you can help but to feel the slightest twinge of shame at how he was able to rile you up this much with little more than a few well-placed strokes of his fingers. But fuck, it felt so good. You’d already been feeling somewhat deprived since you’d both been so busy this past week with exams and projects and what not. This is the first time you’re spending time with him since almost a week ago.

And you are in need of a fix.

“You look like you’re having a bit of trouble on that problem. Do you need my help?” Kyungsoo leans into you, his face right up next to yours, and you have to resist the sudden urge to kiss him right then in there in front of everyone in the stupid library.

Instead, you grit out an unconvincing, “I’m fine,” and force yourself to stay focused on the dizzying mess of numbers and letters on the worksheet in front of you and not on the delicious warmth of his hand where it is applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering between pleasure and the insatiable need for more.

“You sure?” There’s a certain lightness to his voice that tells you he is thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle. Sadistic bastard.

“Positive.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You almost gasp as a rush of cold air fills the places he had been, and you can’t help the frown that tugs at the corners of your lips, disappointment and irritation coloring your features before you can reel them in. From the corner of your eye, you chance a glance in his direction. The smug, knowing little smirk staining his lips sends a wave of heat pulsing into your cheeks, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“So what, you’re just going to stop?” You whisper sharply, not making any attempt whatsoever to hide your annoyance.

A look of feigned innocence overcomes his features. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him as hard as you can manage with how incredibly turned on you are. But he remains unfazed.

“If you want my help,” he continues, voice dropping an entire octave, “you’re going to have to ask for it... nicely.”

Nice wasn’t a word in your vocabulary when Kyungsoo was involved.

Seeing the resistance you are still putting up, he feathers his fingers over your thigh, tracing slow designs across the thin, black fabric. You swallow, unable to look away as they trail dangerously higher, teasing closer to where you both knew you wanted them most.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

Fuck, you want it so bad.

You know that he knows you want it. It’s just the getting yourself to actually say it out loud part that proves to be a challenge. But that’s exactly what he wants you to do, he wants to hear you say it, wants to see you cast aside your stubborn pride and beg for it. Beg for him.

Lifting your eyes, you glance unsurely around the library. It isn’t overly crowded anymore since most of the other students have begun to trickle out as late afternoon approaches. Plus, the table you were seated at was tucked into the far back corner of the room, secluded and out of the way. But still, your nerves buzzed at the thought of someone seeing. Though maybe — just maybe — there was a buzz of something else as well. Excitement, perhaps?

Grip tightening around your pencil, you chewed on the corner of your lip, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s penetrating gaze as you let out a soft murmur. “...ease.”

He leans closer, mirth shimmering in his eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Groaning, you shoot him a scowl, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please help me, asshole.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, the genuine kind that makes his cheeks lift and his nose wrinkle. You like it when he laughs like that. Makes him look a lot less like a serial killer.

Sinking his teeth into the pillowy flesh of his lower lip to stifle his laughter, he shoots you a lazy grin, “that’s all you had to say.”

Next thing you know, his hand is slipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and into the soft cotton confines of your underwear. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale filling your lungs with cold air as his fingers slid through your slick folds.

“I knew you were wet but shit.” He hisses, thick brows furrowing at the feeling of your heavy arousal coating the length of his digits. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, “even Chanyeol can get me this— ngh!”

Without warning, he plunges his middle finger inside of you, and the remainder of your sentence pitches into a strangled moan. One look at his face, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, lips down turned, tells you he isn’t all too pleased at the mention of another man’s name, especially when he’s the one buried knuckle deep in your greedy cunt.

A hazy smirk curls onto your lips and you let out a low hum of pleasure, walls squeezing around him. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Is that why you enjoy pissing me off so much?” He questions, tone biting and low, and you shutter involuntarily as he rolls the pad of his thumb harshly over your aching clit.

“Partly.” You admit, somewhat breathless. “But you’re also just a really fun person to piss off.”

He chuckles dryly in response, though the sound lacks any genuine amusement. “You are such a brat, you know that?” He emphasizes the word by stretching you around a second finger, and you have to drop your pencil in favor of clasping your hand over your mouth, unable to swallow down the soft whimpers that tremble up your throat.

“You love it.” You manage to get out before you’re forced to bite into the tender flesh of your palm to muffle a desperate cry when the slow thrusts of his digits suddenly picks up speed. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, hips jerking up to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm. Electricity ricochets through your veins, and you feel that distinctive tightening in the pit of your stomach. Kyungsoo also feels the way you throb and clench around him, and makes sure to grind down hard against your swollen clit.

Heat immediately spreads through your core, the intensity of the pleasure becoming more than you can handle. “Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, and you quickly duck your head, doing your best to make it seem like you’re focusing on your work and not the fingers drilling relentlessly into your g-spot, praying to god that no one had seen the blissed out expression on your face. Still, you can’t help the quiet whine that escapes you when his ministrations slow.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” He asks in less than a whisper, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Ever hear of subtlety?”

“Ever hear of suck my dick?” You snap back without missing a beat, only to jolt as his fingers curl inside of you, pressing directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Every muscle in your body tenses, and fuck you’re so close you can almost taste it. Frantically, you thrust your hips, desperately trying to fuck yourself down on his digits.

“Sit still.” He growls, and you quiver when he sinks his teeth into the lobe of your ear, obeying only because you really don’t want to get banned from the campus library if someone happened to catch on.

“Soo— fuck,” the force with which you bite into your lip is nearly about to break the skin, but you can’t be bothered by the pain, not with how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Sensing as much, Kyungsoo goes the extra mile of drawing hard, fast figure eights over your clit with his thumb while simultaneously thrusting his fingers into you so fast that you swear you can almost hear it.

All at once fire roars through your veins, euphoria consuming you as your high crashes over you. Your walls spasm around his digits, painting them with your release.

He doesn’t withdraw from you until you go slack, thighs spreading, body slumping back in your chair, eyes fluttering as a hazy, blissed out smile touches your lips. You can only watch through hooded lids as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, sighing in amazement as he sucks them clean. There’s a twinge of arousal in your core as he moans softly at the taste of you on his tongue, a downright lethal sound that somehow manages to rouse your positively spent pussy.

This man is going to be the absolute death of you one of these days.

“Fuck.” You chuckle airily, heady gaze flickered over him lazily, only to do a double take when you notice something standing upright beneath the zipper of his jeans. The corners of your lips twirled into a mirthful grin, eyebrows raising slowly.

“Need some help with that?”

“Yes.” He answers shamelessly and without hesitation, grunting softly as he adjusts himself in the tight confines of his jeans to make the raging hard-on he’s sporting somewhat less obvious. “But not here.”

“I figured. So... your car or mine?”

“Didn’t you just get a new one with reclining seats?” He questions, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip at the mere implication.

You strike him with a wicked grin, already beginning to shove your things into your bag. “I did indeed.”

“Then what are we— wait.”

“What?”

“You didn’t finish correcting the worksheet yet.” He points out, drumming his fingers across the paper that had completely slipped your mind.

You pull a face, pausing in the act of gathering your belongings long enough to cross your arms pointedly over your chest. “No offense, Kyungsoo, sweetheart, but I’d much rather suck your dick than do one more of those stupid fucking calc problems.”

His brows leap to his hairline, and he offers a single nod of acceptance, in no position to argue with such a valid point.

“Noted.”

[exouniverse]

Tightrope Update!

I have the first draft of the first chapter. I wanted to upload a sneak peek but I need that first chapter to hold a strong base for the story. I need to probably do lots of rereads before that.

But in the mean time… I’ll share here a few songs that have helped me write this story.

Also yay for the official media for Tightrope! Are we liking them?

[Edit: forgot to add Love wins all :’)]

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 7

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo 

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 8900

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers

A/N: I wrote this in less than a day and none of it followed any of the plans I had for this story. This new laptop makes it too easy to write and it might end up adding extra chapters to this fic. Sorry and you’re welcome.

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

The silence that sat down atop both of your heads after that door closed tight, leaving you and him completely alone together for the first time in literally forever was about as loud as anything you’d ever experienced. 

Kyungsoo stood just inside of the drab entryway and you had been lingering closer to the hallway that would take you further into the shelter. You watched his face for a while, trying to gauge the mood he would be in to find himself trapped in here with you for at least one night, maybe two if things got wild at the hospital and Mr. Chen wasn’t able to get away as he promised. 

How would he feel about this? The relationship and you used that word strictly for lack of any other word to describe the you and the him, had been strained from the start, downright hostile at times, and only very recently kind of sort of settled into this civil agreement in which you did not antagonize him and he did not antagonize you -- much. 

It wasn’t a friendly relationship for he himself had told you quite brutally last night that he had no interest in being your friend, but lately, with the interactions that had grown just a little bit softer, the chat you’d had with him out on the patio as he made you ramen and teased you about your sexual optimism, the silly time passing game of stating a personal preference between two completely inconsequential things and you found, much to your surprise that you and he shared more than a few minor tastes in common; the fright you had been triggered into with the spiders in the movie and the genuine comfort you felt from him; it felt almost as if something somewhere might be changing. Were you, just as you had been with the threat from the fake spiders, simply imagining the entire thing? 

“Well, shit,” Kyungsoo whispered mostly to himself after the heavy door slammed shut and you looked up into his face to catch the smallest furrow of his brows and the frown of his lips. 

Was this a worst case scenario for him? Trapped alone with the girl he never wanted to be trapped with? Having gone out of his way all those months ago to ditch her on that stupid blind date and she just had to be pathetic enough to pick a fight with him about it, and then about anything and everything she could find to fight about and just when he thought he’d escaped that nightmare of a person she shows up here and not only is she forced upon him by the staff here but now he’s somehow charged with feeding her and entertaining her? You could see it in his face. He looked disappointed as evidenced by the furrow and the frown.

You pulled your arms up and crossed them over your chest, pulling your eyes down and away from that disappointed look you saw in his eyes and you made a deal with yourself then and there; you would not be a burden. You would keep as good a distance as this situation allowed and behave yourself as far as your temper or your tangled feelings for the man were concerned. You wouldn't let it show just how far down this pathetic rabbit hole you’d fallen of uninvited attraction and unrequited love. You’d treat him with disinterest, maybe casual civility that a shop worker would get, or that old man at the grocery store who made a friendly joke about the price of eggs and you provided the required perfunctory laugh at exactly the right pitch and tone to be deemed socially acceptable. That was what you would do, you would perform as expected by society in such a situation. 

It wasn’t his fault that you’d allowed this little crush to fester deep inside your stomach; and for a man who didn’t even desire friendship from you. It wasn’t the first time you’d let your heart run away with your mind. It didn’t have to happen with this man. 

You felt a slight burning in your stomach, just below your breastplate and you placed a palm over the space where you felt the pain. You knew enough about your body to recognize that you were just feeling the aftereffects from the panic from earlier. It always came as an upset stomach that burned and ached usually for hours after your heightened emotions had run their course. 

“What is it?” You hadn’t expected his attention but he must have seen your hand sink down hard just over the space at the top of your stomach. He must have noticed the look of discomfort on your face that you quickly blanked away with the drop of your hand. 

“Nothing,” you said flatly dropping the subject entirely before he had a chance to probe or suspect more of you and you lifted a hand to half shrug into the air, “umm… did you want to finish the movie or … maybe play another game?”

His lips parted and he closed them up, his eyes briefly leaving your face and glancing behind you into the dark hallway from where you both had come. 

When he didn’t answer you right away you inhaled to speak again, before you sounded like his own liability that he had to deal with, “you don’t have to do either, if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to entertain me or anything, I can figure something out for myself if you just want to be alone.”

You’d already spun on your heels, determined with your newfound resolve to be exactly as aloof and unaffected by anything he said or did as required by society to keep the peace; taking the first few steps away from him and turning back toward the dim light from the open kitchen door that you could barely make out as a direction in which you should travel.

“We could,” the first sounds of his voice stopped your steps and you turned your face in his direction, not committing to turning around the whole way, “play something, if you want.” 

“Not Monopoly again, I swear to God,” you said with a finger lifted into the air and you heard the soft chuckle that came from behind you. 

“Awww, my little Princess didn’t like the bitter taste of defeat?” You could hear the joking tone in his voice and weirdly that strong feeling of uncertainty you’d felt only moments earlier seemed to change with the teasing tone he used with you. Changed into what? You wouldn’t say, but it was only a slightly more comfortable feeling. There was a burning sensation just under the skin below your cheekbones and you thanked whatever god was responsible for putting you in this darkened hallway during this moment for the cover that would keep the blush from being noticed by him. You were imagining the softness you heard in that nickname. This man did not hold any affection for you. 

Inside the kitchen you returned to the familiar set up that you had left, only it felt wildly different. Gone was the soft comfy feeling of the mattresses on the floor, the pillows set up at your back and the fluffy down winner’s blanket sat in a tangled clump on the floor beside the bed that you both had occupied. The briefest of thoughts flittered by -- would you be able to smell him in it now? That clean, crisp fragrance he seemed to carry with him, would those microscopic molecules be wound into the spaces in between your one thousand threads ready to drift inside of your nose, bringing you back to the moment below the blanket when his fingers intertwined between your own and he held your hand, keeping you grounded and still connected to this world. The comfort he had given you then, but why? To keep you from embarrassing yourself or maybe him? You couldn't find the reasoning for it anywhere inside of you, but this wouldn't be the first time that man did something you couldn't understand. 

The burning was back. You had an absentminded hand running over the spot on your belly and your feet carried you to the spot beside the fridge where the water bottles sat. You ‘d seen an electric kettle there and you busied yourself grabbing a mug and heating the water. Behind you, Kyungsoo was looking through the games again, trying to find something that he could no doubt destroy you with again. Your heart wasn’t in the fight this time, you felt too distracted. 

The water was heated and you poured some into a cup, finding that plain hot water always soothed your stomach the best and you returned to his side to peer over his shoulder holding your mug. 

He glanced over at you and down at the mug, making no comment about either, and then he held up a game. It was your game. It was the first game, a word game you’d picked to play with a nostalgic and hopeful glint in your eye. 

“We can play this one, if you want,” he said with a bit of a whisper as if you two weren’t the only ones in this entire building, “it’s still fun even with only two people.”

You nodded and took a seat near him but not close enough so he could cheat and look at your letters and he quietly set up the game, not once looking directly at your face for too long apart from the smallest of brushes with his eyes into yours as he handed you bits and pieces for the game. 

You settled into your seat and took a good long look at the letters you had to pick from, picking a few up and shuffling them to see if you could come up with something good and after a few moments you settled on something that was actually pretty decent, especially for the first round. The realization pulled a small smile to your face and you grabbed the letters to place them on the board. He’d already told you that you could go first and as you began placing your tiles on the board you looked up to find that he was watching you, of course he was; you were playing the first word. This word would determine what he could or couldn’t play from his letters. 

You played your word and did the math, giving yourself a nice start with 20 points and you wrote down the number on the pad of paper and looking up at him expectantly. You had expected him to be paying attention to the word, to be impressed by your intelligence. You had managed to spell that word on your very first go. You had expected him to feel thoroughly challenged by the force he had to reckon with. 

He sat there though, his eyes watching you but something about his mind seemed disconnected from the game. Your smile at your own move slipped just a little bit, falling flat because he hadn’t even looked at the word you played yet. He just sat there with his shoulders relaxed, his unshuffled letters sitting there in front of him, he didn't even have his fingers on them, rearranging and thinking as you would have expected. He just sat there -- it was odd. You lifted your chin and wiggled your head, lifting your eyebrows and you heard an inhale as he took a deep breath and exhaled as he slowly pushed the air through his lips and when he was empty his eyes closed up. He gave his head a little shake back and forth and finally, finally his eyes left your face. 

Finally he was looking down. 

“Oh you played that, hmm,” you heard him mumble and he was back. All at once, his fingers were touching lightly over his letters, picking some up, moving them, shoving some aside, actually thinking about the game in front of him instead of whatever in the world he had been so distracted by. 

You lifted your mug and took a sip, feeling the warmth of the hot water warm the inside of your stomach a little bit. The pain was still there even after another sip and you looked down at the mix of letters you had thinking of what word you might play next. You adjusted your posture some, lifting a hand to rub just below your breastplate again, wishing that knot would just go down and be done so you could win this game already. 

Kyungsoo had played his word, counted out his points, and wrote a sad little 16 under his name. You were already winning. The self-satisfied smile was back, it had replaced the wince on your face when you realized you already had your next word. You played it quickly and tallied up your numbers. 24 -- He really didn’t stand a chance. 

You heard the scrape of chair legs and the sound pulled your attention up to the man who was standing up and walking away from you toward the kitchen cabinets at the back wall. 

“It’s your turn, Kyungsoo,” you called toward his retreating back. 

“I know, I’m just getting something real quick,” he called without looking back at you and you heard him inside the fridge, heard him pulling something out and he was slicing something with a knife on a board. The kettle was going again and you heard a metal spoon hitting porcelain as he stirred something into a cup. 

He was back quickly with two mugs in his hand and when he returned to your side he’d place one of the mugs in front of you. 

The color of the water inside the cup was a pale yellow and you saw a single disc of sliced ginger floating on the surface. You could see the string and tab from a tea bag in his mug. 

“Honey and ginger,” he said as he busied himself with playing a word on the board game, “for your stomach,” he added as if you’d made an announcement at the start of your game that your stomach was hurting and he was just responding to that. 

You hadn’t said a single thing to him about it. In fact, you had thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding it from him. You hadn’t let him see you frown or groan or cry out in pain once. The worst you did was lightly massage the space where it hurt the most. 

You lifted his offering to your lips and took a sip expecting it to be too hot for you to drink comfortably and finding the temperature rather mild actually. You took another bigger sip and felt the soothing warmth slip into you. It was sweet with the honey he added and slightly spicy from the fresh ginger he’d added. It was delicious. You’d never tried this for your stomach aches before but it seemed to actually be helping. You took another sip and swallowed, finding that the burning lessened with each sip you took. 

Kyungsoo silently played a word and you watched his mouth moving as he added up his points and wrote down his score of 20. 

You smiled widely. He had just played the letter you needed to play your next word and with the orientation of the word you would be able to get the bonus points. You were already laying your letters out on the board and counting out your points before he’d even had a chance to replace the letters he’d used on the last word. 

“Oh come on, what? You gotta give me a chance to catch you,” he groaned in annoyance that didn’t really seem to sink too deep into him for him to really mean it. You could still see the smile on the edges of his mouth and in his eyes. You did a little victory wiggle in your seat, wrote down 50 points under your name, and even stuck your tongue out at him with a giggle. His eyes slipped down your face and his lips had been pulled into a smile, despite the fact that he was losing this game miserably. 

He pulled his head back a little bit and looked up into the air above his head. A quick glance at his pieces told you he still needed to replace letters and so you held up the bag with the open end toward him. He was still sulking about the heavy blow and you had to reach out to touch your fingertips over the back of his warm hand to get his attention. You gave the bag a little shake and you had his eyes in yours again as he reached into the bag, pulling out tiles and groaning at the letters the universe had decided to give him. 

“Ugh,” he was groaning with each new letter he pulled out. His eyes darted over the game board and occasionally slipped back up into yours, probably because you had been watching him for signs that he had something good to play. It didn’t seem like he did. 

“Blegh,” he made a disgusted sound,  complaining again. “What am I going to do? What do I do, what do I do?” he repeated to himself as he pondered his brand new fate as a loser of this game. 

In his hand, he held only two tiles and he hovered lightly over a space on the board. You giggled when he set them down. It was the saddest word you’d seen in a while. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat me, Kyungsoo,” you sing-songed playfully watching him spell out the word ‘SEE’ for only 5 points.

His hand moved and he spun his letters around, showing you very quickly the hand he had. You saw a slew of vowels, mostly the letter E and everyone’s least favorite burden a single solitary X. 

You were openly laughing at him now. His cheeks were pink and he was reaching into the bag to select his replacement letters and when he pulled them out he tossed them in disgust. They both landed flat on the table, face up with a clatter. He had thrown them there. You looked down to see two more Es and the sight threw you back into a noisy fit of laughter that seemed to be catching. You could hear him giggling beside you and he gripped the Es in his fingertips and tried to put them back into the bag. You snatched it up quickly and held the bag of letters out of his reach so he couldn't cheat and put them back in. 

“No no,” you gasped through the giggles, “Think of words with lots of Es like meet, umm, teeth, f-feet,” you said through a strained voice and you were laughing again at the look he shot you at the mention of the words that brought up a very recent sore memory for him. 

“Teeth and feet?” He said with his eyes wide, “You really brought that up again?” He exhaled through his teeth, his lips pulled wide in frustration. He was leaning now, reaching desperately past your game pieces to where you still kept the bag of letters out of his reach to keep him from cheating, even though you were pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to catch up with you even if he replaced all of his letters now. He had scooted his chair closer to you and you reached for his desperate hand, gripping around his fingers and pulling his hand down into your lap, holding it tightly there and leaning into him to help you gain some leverage against him. He was quite strong when he wanted to be but he seemed to be letting you hold him back like this. He definitely wasn’t putting his all into this struggle against you. Something was off with him. Kyungsoo had never held back on that chance to be terrible with you before. 

Instead, he had moved in too close to you and after the small playful struggle, you felt the warmth of him all over you. You had been giggling as he reached out with his other hand, reaching again for the bag of letters you held out of his reach and you felt the tips of his fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulled your arm down. It was a bit of a stalemate and you heard the soft laughter from him settle and go curiously still, when you opened your eyes you found his face in front of yours. You had his hand inside of yours down on your lap right over your thigh and he held your other hand with his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist.  You hadn’t expected this level of closeness from him, the shock you felt radiating through your chest had taken the laughter out of your voice and left you stunned in a frozen silence instead. 

You suddenly felt hyper-aware of your own body. He was so close to you, that you wondered if he was able to hear how noisily your heart was pounding inside of your chest, or if he could hear the stuttered way your breathing moved in and out of your lungs. 

God, he was beautiful up close. His skin was clear and he had a scattering of tiny moles all over. The small freckle in his upper lip seemed to have a presence all of its own and you struggled to look away from him. Your eyes roamed over the length of his face. He had long since stopped laughing and he had even stopped reaching for the bag, stopped struggling against your hands and he was watching you with slow blinking wandering eyes over your face that seemed to settle again heavy and deep inside of your eyes. 

You exhaled a breath you had been holding through your parted mouth and his eyes slipped down to look at your mouth when you moved. This was something. Something was happening here. Something that shouldn’t exist with the intense animosity he’s always felt for you. Something between you and something between him. You could feel it in the way your skin flushed, the blood in your body seemed to seek refuge in some place that wasn’t in your veins. You found it difficult to breathe with him so close and those eyes of his didn’t let up, they didn’t let you go, you felt so much more trapped here in his eyes than ever before. Your ears picked up on the smallest grunt of effort from somewhere in the back of his throat, then the smallest inhale of breath lifted his lungs, and finally, finally, he closed his eyes.

“I think I’ve lost this game,” he whispered through closed eyes with a sudden tight clench of his jaw. 

He was leaning. He was moving. You watched the sway of his balance and he moved closer to you, impossibly closer and the fingers he’d wrapped around your wrist released their hold, that hand was moving. You felt the first tiny touches of his fingertips as he moved his hand to touch your face lightly and achingly slowly along your jawline. You felt as if you could burst into flames at any second and judging by the heavy puffs of air that left his lungs, something similar was happening to him too. 

He leaned into you, close enough for a kiss but something stopped him. You felt and saw the lean though. He pulled back half a centimeter and it felt like he was at war with himself. 

You watched his face as he did it. His eyes, he kept them closed up as tightly as he could and the hard clench of his jaw did not let up. 

He was touching you though. His hand had moved and his thumb brushed lightly over your bottom lip and his fingertips dug in behind your ear. His other hand, the one that you held in your lap had moved too and you felt a squeeze from his fingers as he clenched tightly around your hand. 

Everything about him was tense. His jaw, his hands, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. 

This man was very purposefully attempting to regain control of himself and resist whatever it was he was feeling by being this close to you, by you touching him, and by him touching you. Your own self-control felt thready. How easily you could snap in two. How flimsy your resolve had grown around him. 

You’d long since dropped the bag of letters. You felt the need for the warmth of his soft skin under your fingertips. So you reached for his face, delighting in wonder at the smoothness your fingertips traveled over, even with the hard clench of his jaw he felt so warm and inviting and he was still so very close to you. He smelled so good, it was overwhelming. You wanted him. 

He was so very close; close enough for you to feel every quick burst of air that came from his nose against your lips, close enough for you to so easily lean your face into his and press your lips up against the softness of his mouth.

So you did it, you did it -- you leaned into him and you kissed him on the lips, relishing in the softness you felt when his lips gave into yours so, so easily, it seemed to come like second nature when you had actually worked up the nerve to do it. 

There were almost imperceivable changes in him when you did it; when you kissed him. The hard clench in his jaw let up with the soft grunt of surprise that came from the back of his throat and in his hands; the loosening of the tight grip he held you with on your face as he simply let go of you entirely for the first few seconds of this kiss from you. 

The next change was less subtle, you felt the careful way he caved to your lips. The tilt of his head paired with the parting of his jaw and he leaned into you further, pulling your soft bottom lip into his mouth then pulling you again, your upper lip. When he moved again you felt the tip of his wet tongue guide along your teeth and reach for yours with that same suction he had pulled against you which you gave to him, giving him what he wanted, feeling very much out of control now with greedy the way he sucked on your tongue. The kiss was too much in an instant. The undeniable attraction you felt for this man had taken every bit of rational thought and tossed it out the window, carrying them all away with the wind outside. 

His mouth and teeth and tongue nipped inside of your mouth, pulling at your lips and he was moving, peppering tiny kisses, bites, and nibbles along your jawline as he moved lower to taste the skin below your ear. 

You reached for him again, reaching a hand forward for his waist and lower, you’d lost your mind when you touched near his belt, slipping the tips of your fingertips in between the denim fabric and feeling along the elastic waistband of his underwear. Feeling the very clear bump of his arousal and the warmth of his skin there.

His hand flew up to stop you and you heard the soft groan that came from his chest against his will. You could feel your labored breathing taking your chest and heaving it up and you shook your head back and forth at the nerve he had to stop you. You wanted him, you wanted the sex. You were beginning to feel desperate for him. 

Kyungsoo leaned his forehead against yours and his hands now had a strong ironclad grip on your wandering hands. You felt the very slight movement of his face back and forth. 

No. 

He was telling you no. 

You had to take a genuine moment to absorb it. He was telling you no. You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath and you inhaled the no, the refusal, the rejection took its time coming at you slowly in a big old sluggish wave and your breathing was beginning to calm down now. 

“Kyungsoo?” You called out lightly, feeling just a bit upset and even more confused as to why he would have kissed you back so intensely if he didn’t want this. 

“I,” he opened his mouth and pulled his head back, “I don’t—” his words were broken, staggered, and fractured, “I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You don’t want me like that.” It wasn’t a question. You weren’t asking him a damn thing. It was a stark realization that you had simply misread his actions as affection. 

“I don’t mean that,” he began, his voice clearer and with slightly more urgency than the staggered speech from earlier, he inhaled and swallowed, licking his lips as his eyes searched over your face. 

“I don’t do that lightly,” he exhaled and furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes and looking into your face again, “I’ve never slept with someone outside of a relationship. I don’t do it. This can’t happen. We aren’t going to have sex.” 

He had released his tight grip on your hands now that his reasoning was out and you sat there feeling just a little bit foolish for having jumped so quickly straight to sex. You felt the embarrassment hit you hard and you closed your eyes through it and shook your head, straightening your back and removing your hands from within his fingers and pulling them back toward you as you carefully busied yourself with straightening your shirt back out. This felt awful. You reached down for the mug with the now cold ginger honey water and you downed the remains quickly, hoping that some of that sweet honey might coat your insides and soothe your fractured ego while it was at it. 

You felt the softness of his hand land over yours when you put the mug back down and you looked down at it, his hand covering over yours. You could feel it then, he was asking you to look at him. You had been embarrassed by the rejection and had been busying yourself with literally anything that wasn’t him. He’d given you time to process it and to get yourself under control before calling your attention again with the softest and most gentle pull of just the warmth of his hand on yours. You signed deeply, willing all of that oxygen to fill your lungs and power your brain well, and after what felt like several inescapable seconds passed you looked up into his face. 

He was watching you, no words on his lips and a slow and steady blinking of his eyes.

You swallowed before you spoke, “I get it,” you said plainly, biting down on your lip once before you continued, “I understand. You don't sleep around. I sleep around. You and I aren’t the same.” 

His lips parted and his eyes rolled over his face once before they sank back down heavy inside of yours. He inhaled a breath, clearly ready to counter your words. You knew you were misinterpreting his meaning. It wasn't even as if he’d called you a slut or anything, but goddammit that recent discovery of his. Him having found your 20-pack of condoms in your bag; you couldn't help but compare them to the single 5-pack he brought which he probably never even had any intention of using in the first place when you had every intention of using some of those condoms on this retreat. You would be goddamned if you didn’t get laid at least once on this trip. It had been so long for you, that you needed something from someone that made you feel desired and attractive to another human being. 

“You know,” he was speaking, his eyes had drifted closed and he was having trouble getting the words out again. Maybe he was about to tell you he was on his way to pray for your forgiveness for being such a slut. 

“You already know how I feel about you,” he whispered and pulled his eyes open. 

You looked at his face for a moment before your eyes wandered over the space above his head; giving the smallest head shake as a reply. Not really. He hated you for one minute. He laughed at you and teased you another minute. He made you ramen and tasty honey tea to soothe your upset stomach and beat you mercilessly at Monopoly but his cold hard facade fell apart when you teased him back. He was a mystery to you, whenever you thought you had figured something out about him, he would pull out the rug from under you and swear that no matter how desperate you were for it he would specifically not ever sleep with you. You felt that same familiar pain in your stomach flare up again. You hissed through it and inhaled a small gasp, doing your best to keep your reaction under wraps. 

His eyes narrowed and he dropped his chin, “you must know,” he said again, “you already know.” 

You must have flinched somewhere in your face. Those knowing eyes of his caught it and his head ticked as his eyes moved over you again. 

“How could I know anything?” You were beginning to feel like you should go lie down. You even felt a tiny bit dizzy the more you stayed here just withstanding this. Maybe a warm shower would help. 

“Sara told you. You know everything.” he threw his head back and looked up at the ceiling above his head. He had a sort of exasperated expression on his face now and you tried to focus on this conversation but you’d already been through enough of it. 

What had Sara told you? She had been so excited about every little interaction between the two of you that her words had been too exaggerated and overly dramatic to be able to trust what she said. Your mind flew through her words to you about him. About him saying how pretty you were. So what if you were pretty. The man hated you. He hated you. Her words, were a distant memory now even though it had only been a couple of hours since she said them. 

‘The way he looks at you -- If I didn't know that he was desperately in love with you, I’d think he was trying to set you on fire with his eyes -- he was desperately in love with you -- he is desperately in love with you.’

It was impossible. Sara was wrong. This man did not love you. He couldn’t love someone like you. 

Doh Kyungsoo had just rejected you for the third time now. The first when he stood you up on the date, leaving you to stew in the rejection, publicly calling you out amongst your best friends about it, basically ridiculing you again and again for your stupidity; how dare you really think someone like him could ever actually be interested in someone like you. The second rejection was shallower, the way he treated you when he found out you were here with him. You had the audacity to show up here and play pretend like you belonged here beside him; going so far as to reject even your offer of friendship, the lowest form of acquaintance and even that he didn't want. And now, reminding you of just how little he thought of you. 

He didn’t sleep with people he wasn’t in a relationship with. You’d offered yourself so easily to the man, practically begged for it but again, you received another rejection. 

Wasn't there a point in which you should give up on this? 

“I don't know anything, Kyungsoo. I don't even know you, remember? We never really even met each other.” You said it with such finality that his lips closed up and he pulled his head back. He seemed taken aback by the force with which you said those words to him. You stood up, done with this. There was only so much you could take. That surprised look on his face from earlier had flattened out and he was staring ahead of himself, not looking up at you. 

You stood there looking down at him for much longer than your pride should have allowed. Watching him staring ahead of himself with his silent lips and his bright red ears, his chest heaving up and down as if all of the emotions bubbling just below the surface of him could ever presume to break through that thick outer shell of a man who keeps everything inside when he should have just let it out. Goddammit Kyungsoo. But he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t explain and he sure as hell wasn’t about to try any more than absolutely necessary with you. You’d been the one to put yourself out there again and again for this man. You felt let down. 

“I’m going to shower and lie down for a while.” 

You took the first steps to leave, to walk past him and you’d made it three whole steps toward the door when you felt the warmth and strength of his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, pulling you back. He pulled you back roughly. You had been moving forward with such a momentum that the break in your stride caused you to stumble backward and you yelped out in surprise finding yourself pulled into him, pulled to where he still sat uselessly in that chair and the rough yank on your wrist sent you moving until you collided with a resisting barrier.

You stumbled on your feet and you bounced against him and the second you collided with him you felt the strength of his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You felt the push of his firm chest hit against your thighs and in your belly you felt the point of his nose as he buried his entire face within your shirt, just below your ribs deep, within the softness of your belly. It tickled uncomfortably but you felt too stunned to do anything. You looked down in shock, seeing only the top of his head, his soft black hair fell into the fabric of your shirt and from his mouth somewhere you heard the softest moan that reverberated through your body. 

For lack of anywhere else to put them you rested your hands on his shoulders and you heard and felt him make another sound, a rough growl from his chest sounded out into your skin, buzzing into the skin of your stomach and his hands around your waist tightened to uncomfortable levels. He inhaled a deep breath from somewhere in the center of you and you found some semblance of some words to say. 

“Kyungsoo, what,” you began but his hot exhale warmed you on the exit and sent goosebumps cascading down your spine, taking whatever words you thought you could speak. After several breaths he lifted his face, propping his chin right against your skin to look up into your stunned and confused face. 

“What are you doing?” you managed. You felt too blindsided for more.

“Get to know me then,” he whispered up into the air and you wiggled against the tightness you felt in his arms matching the crazed look you saw in his eyes. He did not loosen them any, “get to know me, until you understand how I feel about you.” 

This didn’t feel real. It was impossible that this was happening. Was he serious? 

Your mind was spinning. You couldn’t reconcile the two versions of Doh Kyungsoo you were witnessing. The desperate way he clung to you told you one thing and yet, so much bad had already happened to tell you the complete opposite. This version clearly hadn't listened to a damn thing the other one had just told you. This one didn’t know about the no sex before commitment rule, the one that had his chance and squandered it, humiliating you in the process. But as tightly as you were wound here within his arms; you could feel your body responding to him all over again. You’d already been too affected by him before.

His eyes were looking up at you and you could just barely make out the tiny pout on his lips that was hiding within the fabric. 

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe that mug he had been sipping from had been full of whiskey instead of tea and this man was off his head right now. 

“What are you talking about?” 

He was moving with the question you hung into the air above his head. You could feel the slow way he moved his face, pressing himself against the softness of your belly again, breathing you in slowly and deeply as if every bit of sanity had simply left his body and this was a madman whose only purpose was to drive you as crazy as he was. 

“You know for someone who doesn’t want to fuck me, you are doing a terrible job of letting me leave this room.” 

Your own bluntness surprised you but you’d expected him to wake the hell up and release you so you could go take care of this problem he’d caused. 

“I never said I don’t want to fuck you.” He whispered it with his face hidden deep within the skin of your belly but the words echoed inside of you, hitting you hard with their heavy impact. 

The man was a menace. He’d just turned you down only to do this to you? You felt so turned on you almost couldn’t keep upright.  

You braced both of your hands on his shoulders and you pushed against him hard, pushing your hips backward too until he got the message and loosened his hold around you. The release allowed you to take a step back. His hands still lingered around you and you even felt one of his hot palms lying right over your ass, having slipped down from your waist he didn’t seem to be in too big of a hurry to take his wandering hands off of you. 

“Sorry, sorry,” his immediate apology told you that he knew exactly what sins he had committed against you, “I’m not in my right mind.”

You reached behind you and grabbed his hand off of your ass and brought it back around, dropping it down on his own lap. It landed with a flop in his lap and his eyes pulled deservedly down as he took on a much more sheepish expression in his face. You couldn’t tell if it was genuine. 

“You say one thing and do another, Doh Kyungsoo.”  

You felt ready to snap. “You say we won’t have sex, and that’s fine. I’m fine with that,” you said through wild eyes and even though you managed to get the words out, it felt like a lie. You weren’t fine with that. This hot piece of ass needed to figure himself out and in a hurry because you weren’t sure how much more of his torture you could take. 

“You seem fine with it,” you heard him mumble under his breath and your eyes widened as you lifted your eyebrows and looked at him. He lifted a hand and waved it lightly, “Sorry, continue.” 

“I was fine with it until you,” you lifted your arms and wrapped them around your body, doing a speed-run pantomime of him grabbing you around the waist, hugging you tightly and you even ran your fingers over the entire length of his face lightly, jumping back in pure frustration, “did all that to me, Kyungsoo. What the fuck?” 

The man who sat in front of you with his forearms crossed strategically over his lap ‘just so’ dared to smile at you. It was a tiny smile but you lifted a finger and pointed right at his face with a frustrated gasp. Again his smile, impossibly, widened.

“I am going to go take a shower. And I am going to lie down.” These words came out in a low growl. “I better not see you standing at that bathroom doorway.”

You’d spun on your heels for the second time to walk away from this man and you nearly screamed when you felt his hand reach for you again. This time he was standing up and you lifted your own hand in an 'I swear to god, give me a reason’ pose, enjoying how quickly he flinched away from you. 

“Wait, wait” he quickly spoke, not wanting to get smacked. You decided then and there that you weren’t above doing it. The memory of last night's tit punch was still fresh in your mind and you were feeling almost crazy enough to do it. 

“Just wait, goddammit,” he had the nerve to sound annoyed. He actually reached up and grabbed your raised hand and carefully brought it back down. “Come back later. Later tonight, give me like two hours maybe.” 

“What happens in two hours?” your eyes narrowed and your lips pouted just a little bit with the suggestive tilt of your head as your mind whirled through the possibilities. Did he just need two hours to decide that maybe you were worth a round or 20 of pressing your back into your mattress, or maybe his mattress? Hell, four mattresses were lying over there on the floor where the movies had been showing, you were not that picky. Literally this table here would suffice. Your face must have betrayed your filthy thoughts because he squeezed your hand and you heard a tiny laugh break free from him. 

He was laughing through his words, “Dinner. Just dinner with me. God, will you relax, please?”

His proposal sounded promising. Your eyebrows were lifted in curiosity without you even realizing it you eked out a tiny question for him.

“Like…a dinner date?” This sent a strange wave of panic through you. The tiny smile on his face and the little hum he made as a response sent butterflies flying. You felt at odds with the strange burst of nerves. The idea of having an actual date with this man was, well — you’d never once considered a re-do with him. Back then you’d been so offended, so humiliated, and so angry that the last thing you wanted was to give him a second chance. After a while, you’d even run out of any desire for him to explain himself for what he did back then. 

Perhaps a make-up for that botched blind date all those months ago that started all of this trouble was the kind of thing your heart craved deep down inside. You suddenly felt nervous. Sex was one thing but a date with him? Sex was just physical but starting this over again, a date with Kyungsoo felt too vulnerable. Why was that so much scarier to you? 

What if he didn’t show up? 

Wait, he was trapped here and he was the one doing the cooking. Plus if he didn't show up, you knew where you could find him. You’d beat down the door and kick his ass as long as he was hiding away in one of the rooms here that didn't have any spiders. 

His eyebrows lifted and the smile he was wearing on his lips was gone. 

“You don’t want to?” He asked the question and left his lips hanging open. You could see on his face that despite the false bravado he wore when he proposed the date, to begin with, he also was feeling a lot of the same nerves about it that you felt. His focus on your face was flighty, not quite able to commit to solid eye contact with you with this heavy question handing in the air like this. 

“Okay,” you finally answered in a whisper and you closed up your mouth and nodded your head up and down twice. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes watched your face and you caught him mirroring the same head nod. “Okay,” he also whispered. 

You nodded again and he was quiet as he looked at you, eventually looking away from you and looking around the kitchen space with a small exhale of air through his mouth. He didn’t move, but what was even worse was that you also did not move. You weren’t sure how to do it.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no this was awkward. Did you just say goodbye and walk away? Did you give him, like, a high five or maybe lean into him for a hug, God that would be terrible, Imagine? A hug, thanks buddy, thanks pal, thanks for letting me make out with you, sorry to freak you out when I got too into it and touched your boner because apparently that is a no-touchy zone, I did not get the memo about the boner. Should you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek? How did you leave this situation with at least one-fourth of your dignity, an acceptable amount for someone with your history of humiliating yourself, still intact? 

The kiss on the cheek might be okay, right? His cheeks were soft and his skin was smooth. You took the smallest step into him and you leaned in for it, but oh god, he was moving already. You leaned at the exact same moment that he spun around on his feet and began to walk away from you toward the doorway that led toward the bunk beds, which would have been completely fine except for the fact that he had seen you beginning to lean into him right before he moved. He had seen you move, he had seen you lean, but his feet had already stepped, his body had already begun the exit process and what resulted was a terrible, awful, awkward time in which he stopped walking abruptly and turned back around to face you, halfway toward the doorway, stuck somewhere in the middle of this kitchen with him again facing you and neither of you wanting to explain to each other with words why the journey to the exit had been halted so abruptly. 

“No,” you shook your head back and forth. His face was pink again. “No, just go. You already ruined it.” 

“What were you going to do?” 

“Doesn't matter. It’s over.” You sidestepped him and moved quickly through the space, placing your handle on the kitchen door and pulling it open. You hurled yourself into the darkness of the hallway, feeling just a tiny bit of irritation at the realization that you could still hear the sound of his footsteps very clearly. He hadn’t stayed behind in that kitchen but he seemed to be following you down the hallway toward the room with your bunks. 

“You were leaning, what were you leaning for?” 

“Why are you following me? I have things to do. Alone, Kyungsoo.” You emphasized the last bit while looking directly into his eyes and he was fighting his smile a little but he didn’t seem to stop following you until you reached the door to the bunks and stopped to look at him with your hand on the door handle. 

“I just need to get my bag. Then you can have the place to yourself.” He was already pushing past you, rushing through the room toward the bed in the back and he was grabbing a black duffel that he slung over his shoulder and he made quick work of the distance with his quick walking reaching the space in the doorway that you still occupied in no time. 

When he was back at your side you moved inside the room to give him room for his exit but before he disappeared through the doorway you caught an abrupt shift in his balance. When he was close enough he leaned into you and pressed his soft lips against your cheek, lingering against your skin for one second too long before he pulled back again and looked into your eyes. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected that at all and you had closed your eyes halfway through the lingering part and you had to act quickly to open your eyes up in time so as not to miss the smoldering look part. 

“Now, wouldn’t that have been awkward to do back in the kitchen when I was going to come all the way over here the whole time?” 

You’d opened your mouth and inhaled a breath to respond to him. You would have lied and told him that you weren’t going to kiss him in the kitchen, or that he was imagining things again, or maybe you would lie and say you took it back and you didn’t want to have sex with him ever. He had already disappeared and the heavy door slammed shut before you had a chance to think of a clever comeback. 

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

[damselofblueroses]

The Name of the Rose, Ch. 5, Drabble

As I promised...

Here we go :)

Series Masterlist

When Cherry Blossom Petals Fall on Us

"Oh, man." Kyungsoo blushed so hard, almost burning in red. He pressed his face on the pillow, smiling like a 5 year old kindergarten boy who steals a kiss from his dearly loved one.

His mind still could not register into the fact that he spent the night with you, better, in your bed. He could not believe that he was holding you in his arms, he was smelling the fragrance of your shampoo, it was really you.

Well, he had to admit that you were hugging him enough to cut his breath, but he had no problems. You could. As long as you were with him, you could do whatever your heart demands.

You coughed in your sleep, grumbling some inaudible words, and to be honest your morning breath could be very powerful if the military wanted to use it as a chemical weapon.

Eh, Kyungsoo had no fucks to give. His smile split his face into two, and he kissed your cheek.

[sooinbloom]

Hi there! I really love your work! Thank you for working so hard to create an amazing fanfic for us 🫶🏻. I have a request for you. Since I'm a typical person who finds comfort in angst stories, could you please write an angst story about Kyungsoo based on his song 'The View'? Thank you very much!

Answer: when I got this request I literally SCREAMED. Thank you @sooadorable for the request! I have been writing a series and wondered how I could introduce it, and this is the best way because it lines up with the story perfectly! I hope you enjoy this, thank you so much for the request and all of your support! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The View

genre: angst, drama, Kyungsoo!AU, EXO!AU, romance

word count: 2,011

theme: marriage in trouble, lovers to enemies, separation, impending divorce, broken heart

warnings: use of alcohol, cursing, mentions of self harm, implied smut, sad kyungsoo, depressed kyungsoo

summary: Kyungsoo is separated from his wife and finds comfort in a bottle of Tennessee Whiskey and old home movies as he tries to figure out what to do with the divorce papers he was served. Based off of his song, “The View”.

I stare out into the vast open sky from my living room floor, the sunset paints beautiful colors that canvas the atmosphere above the rolling waves of the Pacific Ocean. I can get lost in moments like this, the times where my head is completely clear and I take in everything around me.

Slowly, effortlessly, the yellows become the golden flecks in her gorgeous eyes. The wind is her touch, soft and sends chills down my spine. The reds are her lips when she gets ready for date nights, putting on lipstick just for me. Even though she didn’t need it, she looked so spectacular in that shade of red. The waves are the promises we made, consistently rolling back to me to remind me that I failed to keep so many. Being here in this kind of scene just isn’t the same without her.

I watched my wife, Mila, walk out of the door and never turn back due to my own stupidity. I haven’t slept well since she left. I haven’t been able to eat on some days. Nothing in my life feels right anymore.

Our vacation home in Malibu looks out onto the shore, for the times we needed to get away from it all and spend time together. Tonight is my last night here before I have to fly back to New York to finish my album and I wish I could stay here longer. It’s the closest thing that I have to being with her.

Everywhere I turn, there’s pieces of Mila in every single thing. She’s in the clouds, the wind, the moon that grows brighter and brighter by the second. The last six months have been hell without her.

Watching old videos of us together has to be a form of self harm, but this is the only way I can see her smile. My eyes are glued to the screen as memories play out from different points in our relationship. From moving in to our first apartment together after we got married. From traveling to Korea to see my family. Waking up in Spain on our European tour together to staying up late in the studio to our honeymoon. I’ve replayed the honeymoon videos over and over, mesmerized as the events play out on screen. We were so young, Mila was 20 and I was 22. I need to be honest with myself, it wasn’t a honeymoon… It was our elopement at Mila’s grandparent’s ranch in Mexico. We stayed in the guest house on the ranch, and it was the happiest we’d ever been.

"Come here." My voice whines from the TV.

"No! Why are you recording us? It’s so weird!" Mila giggles. I grab the phone and the focus is Mila sitting with her leg tucked under her with cheeks tinted pink.

"Look at you, Angel." I breathe, calling her by her nickname. “You’re so gorgeous and you just woke up.”

“Soo!” Mila blushes. She tries to cover her face but I won’t let her.

“Don’t hide your gorgeous face from me.”

The engagement ring and wedding band on her left hand glimmers on screen. The rays of morning light filter into the room and it can’t even compare to her smile. She didn’t need to try at all, she just naturally glowed. I love it when she’s this way, no makeup, hair down and only wearing my t shirt.

I pull Mila by her waist into the frame and kiss her, my arm protectively still around her. I tease her by tracing her lips with mine and smile between kisses, placing her into my lap. I lean and prop the phone on the bedside table and we're in full view on the bed. Mila’s hands run through my hair, something she did when we’d be intimate like this. Her smile fades as she wraps her arms around my neck.

“Soo… I’m worried. I’m scared that us running off and getting married is going to make things worse with my father and brother.” Mila expresses. I press my forehead against hers, holding her tight in my arms.

"Listen to me. No matter what happens, my heart is yours. Angel, we’re married. Nothing can separate us. Not Sungho, not Chanyeol, no one. I know that we both took a risk when we didn’t tell Chanyeol that we were just dating. He’s your brother and my best friend. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you to keep that from your brother. You’re everything to me, my best friend, my life. All I care about is that you’re happy with this decision. They’ll come around, we just have to give it time.” I say lowly.

Mila nods her head, her hands glide down my shoulder to my forearms.

“I hope Chanyeol will come around, him and I are close and I never expected he’d react in the way he did. With my father… He may take longer but it’ll be okay. I’m beyond happy. This feels so right, yeobo.” Mila smiles again, and it’s a personal victory that she’s glowing again. “I just… Don’t know how I feel about you filming us in bed. It’s kind of…”

“Jagiya, stop. This is for our memories. This is our honeymoon. I had to document just how gorgeous you are when you wake up in the morning. You make the world around you envious.” I whisper, caressing her face.

"This is like a dream. I don’t want to go back to reality.” Our eye contact is strong, it never deviates from one another. I run my fingers through her hair and cup her face in my hands.

We fall into a deep kiss, molding ourselves to each other. We break slowly and a fire is ablaze in her eyes, full of want. She pushes me down onto the bed, I roll over until I’m on top of her.

“Look at me, Angel.” I straighten her gaze back to me by guiding her jaw back to face me. I lean down and kiss her velvety soft lips, my hand slides down to her throat. Her soft whimpers fill the room as my lips roam her jaw and down her neck. I stop at her shoulder and smirk into the camera.

“Mila, you’ll never forget this.” I say into the camera and nip her collarbone. She shrieks and holds onto me tighter. Before we go further, Mila grabs the phone and laughs.

“Nice try, Mr. Doh.”

We laugh and she cuddles into me, stopping the recording. I turn the TV off. Seeing my wife smile like that is something I haven’t seen in a long time. Tears threaten my eyes as the moon glows brighter. I can’t even remember when I started drinking or how I got halfway done with my bottle of Tennessee Whiskey. Now there’s nothing left but reminders that she’s not mine anymore. I shouldn’t have been working so much, prioritizing everything else over her, or even worse… I shouldn’t have been such a jealous monster. Being young and stupid, I’d bubble over with jealousy if a man just as much as gazed at her.

To be fair, Mila is a beautiful woman inside and out. She’s so selfless, humble and never afraid to be herself. Mila is known around the world for her music, to say she’s talented is an understatement. Watching her onstage is like a dream, she bursts to life when she performs. The entire world gets to see the woman that I am so proud to call her my wife.

Her physical beauty is just a bonus. Her sun kissed skin seems to glow, her plump lips framed her adorable smile perfectly, I could lose myself in her gorgeous eyes if I could. Her body is a gift from God, effortless curves that would hypnotize me the moment she’d walk into a room. She came right out of my dreams, everything about her is perfect.

It was never a secret that men pined over her and how gorgeous she is. I never checked my jealousy, something she never deserved.

I was certain every man she came across fantasized about her and wanted her the way I wanted her. I was so certain that it made me crazy. It was so bad that we started to fight all of the time and she finally had enough.

I open the sliding glass door to listen to the waves. The warmth from the whiskey offsets the cold night air, I wait for Mila’s arms to hug me into her embrace and when it doesn’t come, my heart splinters. I handled winter and spring without her, but summer reminded me how much worse it is that we’re separated. How she takes shape in the view.

“Mila… I miss you…” I whisper into the night air. The stars and moon start to sway and my vision clouds over. I rub my temples and turn my back to the ocean, glancing over at the divorce papers on the counter. I wrecked my brain relentlessly over what made Mila want a divorce. I didn’t cheat on her, I didn’t ever lay a hand on her and I didn’t lie to her or kept anything from her.

We could work on our problems easily, if she’d just allow it. Our last fight was the worst one, I can’t even remember what words were exchanged but that didn’t matter. What haunted me was that I made her cry. Something I swore I’d never do. I wanted to fix it and Mila wanted nothing to do with me.

Divorce papers.

This is not how I expected our relationship to end. I didn’t want it to end at all. I have to prove it to her that I’m going to change… Once the room stops spinning…

I stumble back and collapse onto the couch, closing my eyes to continue the memory the week we spent together on the ranch when we got married. Mila and I were in bed, cuddled up during one of our late nights. Mila’s fingers dance across my chest, her eyes heavy with fatigue.

“Promise me something, Soo.” She whispers.

“Yes, Angel?”

“Promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll never give up. We’ll never separate. Even if times get difficult, I don’t want to give up.” Mila pleads with her eyes.

“I promise you, Mila. I’ll never give up on you or us. If we somehow get lost or strained… We’ll fix it. I’ll fight for you until the very end, that’s my promise to you.” I reply, kissing her forehead.

“I’ll fight for you too. I’ll fight for us. This is different… Marriage is so different from just dating. You and I are in this together for life. I know I’m stubborn. I know I’m difficult to deal with, I’ll do better.” Mila smirks. I laugh and pin her under me, my forearms are on either side of her head.

“Your attitude is very easy to deal with. You’re a brat sometimes but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” I laugh, kissing her slowly. “But you’re mine, whether you like it or not.”

“I love it. I love you.” Mila smiles. “Our promise is sealed with a kiss, isn’t it?”

I kiss her mouth and cheeks, nodding. “Of course it is, Angel.”

The memory fades from my head. Everything she said that night resounds in my head. I can’t sit her and feel sorry for myself and drink myself to death anymore. She made me promise her that I’d fight for her, and that we’d never separate. It’s my fault she pushed away, it’s my fault she doesn’t want to be near me. I have to fight for her, I have to keep my promise.

The first thing I decided to do is not sign the papers. If Mila wants a fight, that’s what she’s going to get. I can’t take her just being a memory that I can see in the world around me. She has to see that she is my world. She’s my view.

[absentcaryatid]

나의 아버지 Dad by D.O of EXO

There are no captions on the official video but lyrics in English can be found here.

You've endlessly looked strong You've had to turn around and endure things alone I became old enough to know a little about that, oh-oh-oh Now that I understand you It makes my heart cry more

~

An exceptionally starry night I'm proud of you, I hadn't realized you shine brighter More beautifully than the harsh world My father My father (Oh) Forever the most dazzling My father