#ray choi x reader

[pochipop]

＃MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — BEING VULNERABLE WITH YOU.

#. synopsis! — how they show their trust .

#. characters! — jumin, zen (hyun), yoosung, saeyoung (707), saeran (ray), jihyun (v) .

#. warnings! — slight angst.

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — come join my discord server? it's newly opened with a fantasy bakery theme! we have emojis from genshin impact, honkai star rail, sanrio, overwatch, pokemon, mystic messenger, and more! a collection of funny stickers, channels to promote yourself, meet new friends, share your writing/art, + lots more! plus, our staff is very chill and friendly! we'd love to see you there! <;33

＃ JUMIN !! ♡

Jumin, who never really thought himself to be the romantic type, but loses himself so easily in his relationship with you that he’d do anything imaginable just to see you smile for him. This sophisticated, pressed-suit wearing, stone-faced man who just crumbles when it comes to you, —who once thought love was some sick ruse made to rope people in and keep them hostage to their feelings, suddenly realizing that this rush is marvelous, and he can’t quite clearly remember a time before his heart seemed to beat for you. This man who swore he’d never love someone enough to put aside everything else on his mind and just live in the moment who sheds that dry cleaned business attire at the end of every workday and lets himself come undone for you. His walls come down and he welcomes you inside, and for once, he’s not scared of what will happen when you see the parts of him that perhaps aren’t as pretty as others. He lets you see the beautiful mess he’s made of himself over the years, and it’s then that he begins to pick up all these tattered pieces, finally preparing to put himself back together again. And recognizing you’ll help him do so is the sweetest comfort he’s ever known.

＃ HYUN (ZEN) !! ♡

Hyun, who stops pretending to be perfect over time and lets you see him in all the stages of healing. This man who often shields himself from the world, hiding behind a mask of narcissistic confidence, who finally lets his imperfections seep through to the surface and breathes another sigh of relief every single time you stay in the aftermath. He lets you in on the insecurities that lap at his ankles much more often than he'd ever had liked to have admitted before. He lets you hold him when he shatters instead of pushing you away, —dulls all his rigid edges to feel your warmth surround him, as if lowering all his defenses for the very first time. The world can be a cruel place to those that have made mistakes, but Hyun feels like he's finally found someone who can look at him for more than just the pretty, well-kempt face he maintains for the public. There's no sense of shame he feels the need to drown in when you let him fall apart in your arms. There's no crushing feeling of disappointment or suffocating feeling of disdain. He's more human than he fears he's ever been when your thumbs wipe the tears from beneath his eyes and you whisper to him that everything will be okay.

＃ YOOSUNG !! ♡

Yoosung, who learns over time how to not let things fester until they’ve built up so much he can’t keep them in any longer. For all he is and might not ever be, he’s come to realize that it’s okay to express his emotions before they reach a boiling point. He comes to you at the onset of upsetedness, —allows himself to feel frustrated without stuffing it down and pretending the problem doesn’t exist until it explodes. He finds that it’s so much easier to be earnest when you never talk down to him or make him feel like he’s any less of a person in your eyes because of it. Sometimes he needs advice, and other times, he just needs someone to talk to. No matter the case, he seeks you out before anyone else, knowing that you care enough about him to value his thoughts and opinions without qualifiers or regulations. He holds grudges sometimes that aren’t good for his own sake, and being shut down when he tries to address them only adds fuel to the fire. Having someone who truly listens and tells him that it’s okay to feel the way he does goes such a long way, —perhaps longer than you’ll ever know.

＃ SAEYOUNG (707) !! ♡

Saeyoung, who lets himself be honest eventually, —who lets himself chip away and then lets you smooth him over. He’s done a lot of things he’s not proud of, and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Whether it was or wasn’t doesn’t matter as much as what he knows he has to do going forward, and the last thing he really wants is to be coddled out of pity. He just wants to be heard, no sympathy necessary, no fawning over the way he sheds the skin he used to wear when he felt like happiness was millions of miles away. He just wants to be listened to. To Saeyoung, it’s the ultimate show of trust to admit to all the things he regrets, let them spill out like word vomit and not have to worry about the consequences. He doesn’t need you to understand, and knows you likely can’t given the specifics of his life’s course thus far, but knowing that you’re keen on carrying the burden with him is such an insurmountable feeling of relief. Finally, someone knows every grimy little corner of his soul and they still love him, still hold him, still want him. . . There’s nothing quite like it.

＃ SAERAN (RAY) !! ♡

Saeran, who lets little things slip as time goes on, —stares a little longer when he passes twin popsicles in grocery stores because he knows you won’t ask why. As much as he likes to pretend that he can fix things by pretending they never hurt him in the first place, there are always scars that linger just below the surface, ready to burst at the first sight of mint-colored liquids or at the first sound of deceptively sweet voices offering commands from the shadows. He carries a lot around with him wherever he goes, and just loving him until the sun dies isn’t a cure-all. You can’t turn back time and shield him from all the things in his life that have left him feeling like a shattered stain glass window. All the love in the world can’t fix the past. But there’s nothing that means more to him than knowing he can lean on you, —even if he doesn’t always do it. There’s such a sweet comfort in knowing he can turn to you when he feels like he’s drowning. And if sometimes that manifests only in letting himself shed a few tears while he eats an ice cream cone outside next to you in the sunshine, then so be it.

＃ JIHYUN (V) !! ♡

Jihyun, who talks about it all a little at a time, —about the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful; because it wasn’t always bad. There were times before you came in which he’d been so in love that he’d have done anything to stay exactly where he was, to freeze those moments up and keep them in a capsule that could never be shaken. And it’s important for Jihyun to tell you about those things every now and again, to let you in and reminisce on the way he’d once been so sure of it all, so ready to settle down and stay exactly where he was. But it’s equally as important for him to bare the remnants of the betrayal for you to kiss, and hold, and make peace with. He likes to think you understand him better in the wake of it, —that you’ve seen him in a new light every time he sits with you and tells you of the loss, the desire, the yearning, and all the ways he wishes things could have been different for everyone. In the end, he’s here, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

[sadability]

Did you get mysterious messages? ~🎵

MYSTIC MESSENGER MUSIC HEADCANONS :D (RFA + V, Rika, Vanderwood)

Jihyun / V

I think V would love Mitski. Just imagining him painting while my love, mine All mine plays in the background is so sweet. I also think he'd like cavetown, clario, Adrianne Lenker, Liane Flores and Tears For Fears. He often listens to it as background noise when painting or photographing but I also believe he'd practice singing using certain songs (and maybe sing you to sleep HSHSHS)

Jumin

Jumin gives me trouble because I feel like he listens to music for lyrics or lack thereof rather than sound. He listens to blues, jazz, classical and maybe a soft rock love song here and there. If he listens to a song with lyrics, he'll study them. He doesn't really listen to music often but when he does, it's often used as background noise rather than him genuinely indulging.

707 / Saeyoung / Luciel

I think he'd listen to mostly everything but especially synth wave, pop, new wave, rap, noise and glam rock for some reason. I could see him vibing to Depeche Mode one moment and then Fetty Wap the next. He would definitely unironically listen to wannabe by the spice girls LMAO. Also probably really likes tv show intros like iCarly theme or something. AND DISCO!! Seven dancing to bee gees when!?!?

Yoosung

To get rid of the obvious he'd listen to video game osts, pixel (I think that's what the genre is called?) and probably, here me out, pop punk. Or like Falling in Reverse. I think his favourite band would be the All American Rejects but I can also see him liking old demi lavato or Camilla cabello. Both basic white girl music and then randomly pop punk mixed in. As for gaming soundtracks I think he'd really like the undertale ost and probably listens to music through gacha life amv 😔

Zen / Hyun

I FEEL LIKE HIS MUSIC TASTE WAS EXPLICITLY STATED BUT I DONT REMEMBER RAHH okay okay uhm- !! I can totally see him listening to Whitney Houston, Abba, The Cardigans, The Beatles etc for some reason but also he'd feel self conscious that his music taste is too "old" so he would throw in shit like Kendrick Lamar and Future to spice things up and he would never ever admit that his favourite song is Angeleyes by Abba.

Jaehee

Bubblegum Pop, Indie and Doo Wop!!! Mitski, Girl In Red, Kinneret, Princess Chelsea, The Chordettes and The Supremes are frequents of Jaehee's playlist! She only really listens to music on the plane or in the office though. It helps her relax and take her mind off the stress for a bit. I can imagine her learning piano and playing songs like Johnny Angel or Mr Sandman in her free time.

Rika

Rika likes Melanie Martinez and i refuse to argue. She would probably relate really hard to some of her music and overall loves the way it sounds. Can also see her liking Penelope Scott. On the other hand, i see her liking classical or just soft piano music. Color me Blue by Akane would also be a song i can see her liking.

Vanderwood

Metal, Glam Rock, Glam Metal, Dad Rock, 80s rock just. Yeah. You get the point. Metallica, Journey, Mötley Crüe, Guns n Roses, Van Halen, Cinderella, Def Leppord and Dokken !! His favourite bands. Just classic 80s/90s rock for ya. Absolutely goes to their concerts religiously. Probably plays electric guitar as well..he could perform his own concert tbf

[blackheart1454]

Stay with me forever (Yandere! Ray x Reader) Part 1

Part 2: coming soon...

It’s a beautiful sunny day, the sky was clear without a single cloud in sight. In a place in South Korea, there was a building that looked like a majestic castle surrounded by a beautiful forest. Inside there were several people doing different types of activities, such as cooking, cleaning, gardening, etc. That building had a large garden, it was very beautiful. You could see all kinds of flowers, all receiving the best care. In this splendid garden on the grass there was a couple, a man and a woman. They were both sitting on a tablecloth, along with a picnic basket, and several plates of food scattered all over the tablecloth. The man grabbed one of the strawberries from one of the plates, placed a little cocoa powder on top and brought it to the woman’s lips, who had her back leaned against his chest. The woman parted her lips and took a small bite. The man smiled sweetly as he saw the woman slowly chewing the strawberry. 

“It's a gorgeous day, isn't it my angel?” The man said sweetly, to which the woman only nodded her head.

“This day brings memories of when you came to Mint Eye, do you remember?” The man added to which the woman nodded her head again. “I remember I was in the server room, talking to you on the phone. I remember how excited you were when you agreed to try out the game I was developing. I remember when I helped you get out of the car because your eyes were covered by a blindfold. I remember that your hand held mine and you let yourself be guided with complete confidence, since you made it clear that you trusted me… Ah, what beautiful memories.” 

The woman listened as the man spoke, but the words were barely processed by her brain. She stared at one of the flowers in the garden, while the man continued talking and she didn’t show any emotion or interest in what he said.

“But do you know what memory I treasure most of the two of us together?”

“...” 

“It's the day you decided to stay by my side forever, my dear (Y/N).”

***

It was an ordinary day at Mint Eye, you were sitting in one of the chairs in your room drinking tea, and at the same time you were 'playing' the game that Ray was making with so much care for you. The conversation with the avatars was nothing more than Seven wanting to play with Jumin's beautiful cat, while he made it clear to her that, even if the sun went out, he would never leave his beloved kitten in the hands of a cat abuser. Zen was also in the chat, he was trying to change the topic of conversation since just thinking about that ball of hair made him sneeze and right now he was on break from a rehearsal for the next musical he was about to film, so he just wanted to relax a little. Yoosung was trying to help Zen by saying how boring his classes were and he wished the weekend would come quickly so he could play LOLOL all day. You just laughed at Seven and Jumin's conversation, and tried to give emotional support to Zen. 

You didn't know why, but you had this feeling that the characters were real and that you were actually talking to them all the time since you arrived at Mint Eye. You had such deep and complex conversations with them, and it made you doubt that a game was so well programmed to converse like a normal person. After a few minutes, the members of the RFA left the chat one by one to continue resuming their activities. You said goodbye to them warmly and let out a sigh. As if destiny were in perfect sync with you, you heard someone knock on the door of your room, to which you only responded with a 'come in'. The door opened and revealed Ray's figure. He had a smile on his face and was carrying a tray of food with him. You were so focused on the game that you hadn't realized that it was time for lunch.

“Good afternoon (Y/N), how was this morning?” Ray walked over to you and placed the tray on the table. 

“Hi Ray, it’s good to see you. This morning was very calm, thanks for asking” you replied with a small smile.

“I'm sorry for not coming the other night and for not bringing you breakfast today,” Ray said, bowing slightly as he placed his right hand on his chest. 

“You don't need to apologize, Ray. I completely understand how busy you must be with the development of the game” you replied and gently grabbed his hand.

“Developing a game is not easy, especially when the person I work for wants to release the game as soon as possible,” Ray said, sighing. 

“This game must be very important to require your full attention, but Ray answers me this: Have you been sleeping and eating well?” you asked him with a worried expression.

“I've been taking naps, and as for whether I've eaten… I only had a piece of toast for breakfast,” Ray replied with a low voice and with his cheeks red with embarrassment to which you sighed. 

“Ray… you know well that I don't like you neglecting your health, you are important too.”

“You don't have to worry about me, your happiness is the only thing that matters to me.”

“Ray, it doesn't make me happy that you don't take care of yourself, it makes me sad.”

"No! Don't feel sad for me! I promise I will improve my lifestyle,” Ray exclaimed and knelt down next to you.

“Do you promise me?”

“I promise you, whatever makes you happy I will do it.”

“There is one thing you can do right now to make me happy.”

“Tell me, anything you want, I'll do it.”

You grabbed your fork and stabbed it into a piece of sweet and sour chicken from the lunch Ray had brought you. You slowly brought it to his lips. “You would make me happy if you shared this lunch with me.”

"But-!" Ray tried to protest to which you quickly interrupted him. 

“No ifs or buts. Now open your mouth and say 'aaah'”, Ray with his face completely red from shyness does what (Y/N) asked. (Y/N) smiled when she saw how cute Ray looked chewing the food, so she continued feeding him herself. Ray tried so hard not to blush but it was impossible for him. The woman he loved so much, the one who treated him so kindly and made him feel alive, was feeding him. To Ray, (Y/N) was an angel sent from heaven. She was his world, his purpose in life, and now that she had come to him, Ray was never going to let her go.

The days continued to pass and you continued with your usual routine. Ray came to visit you more frequently and every day you had a conversation on the phone. You were happy to see that Ray kept his promise, as he looked healthier. They enjoyed every meal together. Every night they had a walk through the garden to look at the flowers or just see the stars. 

Now you find yourself walking through the gardens of Mint Eye. Ray trusted you so much that he gave you permission to go for a walk through the gardens whenever you wanted so you wouldn't get bored. Because of his job, he couldn't always accompany you, so he sent a believer to make sure you were safe. You were enjoying the silence of the night and the moon was your only company at the moment. A while ago you had finished a chat with the members of the RFA and you decided to take a short walk to clear your mind a little. You sat on the edge of the water fountain that was in the center of the garden and stared at the stars, while you had this feeling that something was wrong in this place.

Suddenly you heard the sound of footsteps approaching you little by little. A believer showed up shortly, it made you a little sad because you knew the believer was going to escort you back to your room. However, to your surprise, the believer removed the hood of his robe that covered his entire head. Your eyes dilated and your mouth opened at someone you never expected to see in your life. This believer was neither more nor less than a man who was identical to the character of V, the leader of the RFA. You rubbed your eyes vigorously to make sure what you were seeing was real and not an enlightenment. 

“I finally get to meet you in person Rosalie,” V said calmly.

“Impossible… you can't be real” you muttered, completely surprised. “But if you're the character in Ray's game…”

“But what are you saying?” V asked surprised.

“Ray is developing a game, one of the characters is called V and he is very identical to you…”

“(Y/N) I don't want to scare you, but I'm actually V.”

“Does that mean that the members of the RFA are real and not avatars?”

"That's right. Ray has been telling you lies this whole time.”

“This doesn't make sense.”

“(Y/N) I understand that you have your doubts, but I need you to listen to me because your life is in danger.”

"What do you mean?" 

“(Y/N), you have to be very careful from now on. This place is nowhere near the paradise that both Ray and his followers claim it to be.”

“What do you mean, V?”

“I don't want to scare you (Y/N), so I'm not going to get into the details. The only thing I'm going to say is that you have to be more careful from now on, don't trust anything Ray tells you.”

“What don't you want me to know, V? Why can't I trust Ray? What are you doing-?”, you felt your entire body tremble at V's words. You wanted V to tell you what was happening here, but you were quickly interrupted by him. 

“I wish I could tell you everything, but right now is not a good time,” V said, trying to reassure you. “I must go since my time here is very limited.”

“Wait-.”

“(Y/N), I have to go. But I will continue to keep in touch by phone. Any suspicious actions, please let me know,” V hurriedly said and covered his head with his hood again and disappeared as quickly as he appeared. 

You stood completely paralyzed, staring in the direction V had gone. You were having a hard time processing what he had told you and you had no idea what to think or what to do right now. You remained silent for a few minutes, but at the same time didn’t you realize that a certain white-haired man was hiding and with a look that could kill anyone who crossed his path. 

----------

I hope you liked it. I'll upload the next part soon.

The image isn't mine. The credits are for the owner.

Check out my Masterlist for more!

There is something important I want to tell you something. I graduated from college a year ago, and I'm having trouble finding a job. In addition, my country is going through an energy crisis, which makes it even more difficult and many people are losing their jobs because of this. I would really appreciate it if you could help me, if possible, by making a donation on my Ko-fi profile. I need money and I want to be a completely independent person. By donating, you would be helping a lot to support the content I upload. I will be as active as possible to continue writing and bring you the best stories. Thank you.

[natasha-in-space]

VAE Ray is on my mind today. Like if we take the classic 'V route but in love with Ray' road, you cannot tell me that that boy did not think of you almost every single day during the two years he has spent away on his painful recovery. There is so much left unsaid between the two of you: so much guilt, so much hurt and so many regrets plaguing his head every time he sees something that reminds him of you. And, God, does that include a lot of things.

He goes outside and one look at the clouds brings back a memory of those short but meaningful talks he shared with you about the most simple of things. He remains indoors, and after taking a sip of the herbal tea that Jihyun made for him, he is immediately transported back to a peaceful tea party he set up for you. He stares at his hands, and he can't help but think back on how heavenly your touch felt against them. And how much he regrets wearing those pesky gloves at the time, never giving him the chance to feel your skin on his.

You're like a ghost that watches over his every step. It's often painful. Like a constant reminder of all that could have been if he didn't ruin every chance at his happiness with you. Sometimes it gets a little too hard on him, and Saeran takes over. But sometimes it's comforting. Like a warm hug, keeping him secure when all else falls apart.

He refuses to let you go.

So when he does meet you again, it's like a fragile fantasy that is far too idealistic for it to be true. Ray had no expectation that his brother would remember him. No matter what Jihyun has told him over those two years, he couldn't bring himself to believe that Saeyoung truly wanted him in his life to be the burden that he truly is. So when he gets crushed into a tight, desperate hug that is a bit too painful for his scarred body, his twin's whole body shaking, wracked with sobs Ray's ears can't quite register fully due to how unbelievable it all is... He's almost in a trance-like stare. Hearing Saeyoung's voice telling him to never leave again as he holds him so tight, it's like he's afraid he'll disappear into thin air once he lets go...

None of it was what Ray or Saeran had expected.

And then there's you. Your reunion with Ray will definitely be an emotional event for both of you. Ray was sure that, at best, you had forgotten all about him and lived on a happy and safe life. A life that you deserve. And at worst, that you hated him, and cursed him for hurting you the way that he did.

But instead, you are so unbelievably happy to see him. So happy that you are crying for him. Much like Saeyoung is.

The two people he had the worst fear of facing again were accepting of him and shedding tears for him in a way he had never even imagined.

So he also breaks down. And the three of you probably spend a lot of time crying into each other's arms as two years of grief, heartbreak, and recovery wash over you all at once.

After that, things don't immediately turn perfect. There are still many things that need to be said. You and Ray will have many conversations with each other, taking breaks to process it all piece and piece and not overwhelm one another. About what happened those two years ago. About what happened after that. About your feelings for each other. And about Saeran, too.

It's a process that takes time. But the fact that you're willing and even wanting to go through that process with him is enough to cause Ray to shed tears more than he could count.

The beginning is small, very small. Brief brushing of his fingers against yours while you are sitting together in the shade of a large tree in Saeyoung's backyard. The lightest of touches you give to his scars after he allows it. A hand resting on his shoulder gently as he talks about something heavy to let him know you're there for him.

Every touch leaves his entire body shaking, his breath stuttering in his throat, forcing him to let out the faintest of gasps. The first time it happened, he got very ashamed and apologized profusely to you, as he thought he acted like a complete creep and made you uncomfortable. Ray knows he's touch-starved, and that he's touch-starved for your touch specifically. But he doesn't think it's something worth dealing with, not wanting to be a bother to anyone. Not any more than he already is. A thought process that he will need to work on one step at a time.

You let him know that it's okay, though. That you don't mind. That it's your own desire to touch him.

After that, you begin to take his hands into yours. The first time it occurs, your hand jist clasps around his lightly. Then you interlock your fingers together, once he's okay with that. And then he feels safe enough to do that to you, too.

Holding hands with you is something Ray loves with all his heart. No gloves are getting in the way now. He can feel your skin directly on his with no barriers. It's a wordless 'I got you' that he finds himself getting more and more greedy for, the longer you indulge his cravings for human warmth.

His scars are not bothersome to you. If he doesn't want to, you don't force him to talk about them. And you're always quick to let him know how beautiful he is to you whenever he feels insecure about them. Even if he has a hard time believing that.

You're far too good for him, is what Ray finds himself thinking time and time again. But at some point, he comes to the realization that he is too selfish to let you go again. And then Saeran joins in on that line of thinking after his own long journey with you. So he doesn't let you go again.

And that's when everything changes.

Ray can be clingy with you if you let him. He desires to hold your hand inside the house, regardless of whether it's just a walk to the balcony or kitchen. He will rest against you whenever you are resting, reading a book, or indulging in your hobby. You don't need to talk to each other. He just silently sinks against you and sighs softly, letting your presence wash away all other thoughts floating in his mind. While asleep, he clings to you, almost as if his subconsciousness is terrified of you disappearing again. He fiddles with your clothes, with your fingers, or with your hair whenever you are talking to someone, and he's there with you. It calms him. Keeps him steady.

There is an undeniable bittersweetness to Ray's clinginess. GE Saeran's touchiness stems from his heart's pure affection towards you, but VAE Ray neecs to constantly remind himself that you're there. That he can touch you. That you are not going anywhere. And that you have no hatred towards him.

But it can also be sweet. Like whenever you help him take care of his burns, or you ease him into a warm, soothing bath you've prepared just for him. Ray may be anxious. But you are always eager to show him how much you genuinely care for him. How much you enjoy touching him in the way he has always wanted to be touched by you. To allow him to unwind with you. Close his eyes and let you take care of him with no judgement.

Your relationship with VAE Ray described in one word would be: peace. It's peace after the long, heavy storm you had to endure to get to this point. And it's peace that you will cherish for as long as life allows you.

[rayroseu]

i did these sketches a long time ago of what i would drew if i was stuck at mint eye💥

obviously all of them are about the pretty flower prince, happiest birthday to you, saeran and saeyoung choi 💕‼️

since 2018 player here and my adoration for him still lives 🥺✨ lets spend another four seasons this year again 🥰💖

[lexsssu]

Phone Sex (Choi Saeran | Unknown | Ray)

TAGS: Saeran/F!reader, phone sex, smut, drabble Ao3 ver.

Saeran was familiar with using technology to his advantage, what with his brief stint at Mint Eye and the years he’d spent learning its ins and outs. Though he’d long put his past behind him and finally pursued what he truly loved, he never forgot the skills he’d honed during that dark time in his life.

That is why the last thing he expected was for technology to be used against him...and by YOU of all people.

His sweet, soft, adorable little flower princess who could do no harm.

“...ran’s cock...I want it...my fingers are never enough anymore…!”

The redhead swallows the lump that has formed in his throat as he hears your heavenly voice through his phone. Your voice is whiny as small moans slipped from your lips frequently, the sultry sounds sending blood straight down his cock that poked against the front of his pants.

“...miss you, honey...can’t wait to have you fucking me open and filling me up with your cum again~”

Shit.

The former hacker cursed internally, knuckles turning white at the grip he had on his phone while his other hand struggled to remove his bottoms as soon as possible. His length is bright red at the tip, a bead of precum oozing from the slit and he hisses as he grasps it, feeling how hard and hot it was in his hand.

He can’t wait to pamper you once he gets home from his business trip.

“Princess~ Won’t you be a good girl for me tonight?”

[issacballsac]

Wishes to Unknown

Unknown/Saeran Choi

Male Reader

Joining the RFA had been nothing short of a fever dream to you

To anyone with an ounce of sanity even

So the <<Hi!>> of the very person responsible for your forceful recruitment into this organisation wasn’t exactly welcomed

<<Long time no see. We chatted before, remember?>>

With reluctant annoyance you did the very thing that got you in trouble at the start, responding.

<<Yep, what exactly are you messaging me for now?>>

<<Thanks to your help back then, I could preform my task without trouble.>>

<<Glad I could help🫂; you wouldn’t happen to be telling me what said task is/was?>>

<<Anyways. I told you I’m studying abroad, remember? But if you don’t it can’t be helped.>>

<<Yes I understand but why should I care about any of this?>>

<<Well—um…I’ll be back in Korea today. Remember I told you I’ll make it up to you if you help me? :)>>

<<So…>>

<<I’m not sure if I’m liking where this is going..>>

<<Do you have time today? Why don’t you join me to see the sky tonight? I have what I like to call a haven of sorts where I come whenever I visit Korea.>>

<<I’d love to go there with you.>>

<<Honestly, today is my birthday and you’re the only one who could properly congratulate it for me.>>

<<I promise you won’t regret it.>>

<<You have such a way with words—I almost forgot what happened last time you invited me to a mysterious location.>>

<<Look—>>

<<If you come to me. I’ll make it a VERY pleasant day for you. I even made you a crown with red roses. :)>>

<<Still not convinced dude. Bc if I get added to another group chat after this I will delete this app.>>

<<Okay ok; I’ll bring ice cream, Yk with summer it’s getting hot. We can also watch popular films? I’ll get everything ready I promise.>>

<<Youll join me, won’t you? I’ll be waiting for you.>>

UNKNOWN has left the chatroom

Every instinct in your body spiritual and physical told you not to go to the location sent to your phone.

BUT

Curiosity couldn’t kill the cat twice, could it?

Simply walking out of the apartment with your current attire as the event wasn’t that special to you; you began your search of the park.

The park was sparsely populated from the locator position the greatly mysterious UNKNOWN had graciously granted you

None matched the original picture he sent all those weeks ago

“Brown hair, green eyes. Brown hair, green eyes. Brown hair and green eyes.” You repeated as if it were a mantra looking over the same groups of people.

“Looking for me, my prince?”

“Indeed I was my dearest catfish. That’s obviously not you in the pictures.”

Almost unbothered by the comment he maintained eye contact, “Yes, well my identity is somewhat of a secret. Please try to understand, I can’t simply go throwing my image everywhere.”

“Sure sure. Anyways, happy birthday…Unknown? Got a name I can call you?”

“I’m a bit reluctant to say—no, it should be fine. Call me..”

“Shall I call you my stalking prince?”

His eyebrows furrowed towards his eyes, “If you’ll let me finish.”

“Yeah yeah, go ahead.”

Firmly clearing his throat, “It’s Saeran. But don’t go yelling it everywhere and definitely not to the RFA.”

“I won’t, I promise. But I really like your name, it’s nice to actually learn something about you.”

“Well you already know a lot. I’m not the guy from the photo, I hacked your phone on certain occasions, I like ice cream, and now you even know my name.”

“Yes we could almost get married with how much I know about you.”

“Though you are beautiful if you don’t mind the compliment. You’re not such a weirdo either, even if you did trick me into joining a strange charity.”

“Yes you make me sound SO amazing and dreamy.”

Taking a bite from out of his ice cream cone, “Yes, because you are, and I am totally not speaking out of my ass when I say this.”

“Enough of the chatting, I was promise a nice a pleasant day, so, show the way.”

Snickering slightly, Saeran stopped himself from reaching for you hand and opted for a follow-the-leader route.

On a secluded hill, a blanket lay bare with a singular unbranded laptop at the centre. A brown woven basket sat not far from the main attraction.

“Birthday picnic?”

He sat down calmly on the blanket. Lightly yet rapidly clicking on the keys of the keyboard.

The soft white light beamed against his already pale face, “Any suggestions for a movie?”

“I thought we were starting gazing.”

He quirked a brow at your remark.

“The constellation I want to see isn’t out yet. In the meantime won’t you accompany me?”

A small rotation of movies was shown before you both ultimately decided to just wait.

“Sae look! Isn’t that the constellation you wanted to see?”

His eyes snapped up as the stars aligned perfectly. A small smile was rapidly tugging at his face. “Sae?”

“A—sorry, it was just shorter.”

“I don’t mind it.”

Readjusting yourself on the mat, you took another spoonful of the mass amount of mint ice cream your newly acquired partner brought.

“Hey, so do you like—wish on the constellations? Or is it just the individual stars?”

“I’d call you stupid, but, I don’t know myself.”

“Here. I’ll wish you another happy birthday for each one of the stars in the constellation.”

“That’s a lot of stars you know?”

“I have all night and tomorrow morning.”

An actual laugh escaped from him, a laugh that had been held in for years it seemed. A pure and genuine expression.

“You know…there are better ice cream flavours than mint.”

“Don’t ruin my birthday. Please.”

This was based off of his 2019 birthday event

@viernane

[asterjennifer]

❗ Slight domestic violence scene

“Shit, shit shit shit shit…!”

She cursed under her breath when crossing over the familiar rooftop made out of what resembled pure marble. Her tiptoing sounds unnoticeable even to herself. She'd been lying if saying this new way of sneaking around didn't appealed to her the most when it came to this entire sinner form she'd taken after her downfall.

Jumping from one smug brick to another, landing gracefully onto the railing, onto one of the million endless balcony's of the castle. She's not fond climbing over its walls as she kept fearing that one day — someone would catch her right handed and then do whatever is worse imaginable inside her head. She might be an immortal being in hell now, but not immune to any pain.

That's what sinners had to deal with, the enteral punishment of experiencing pain repeatedly. And no way to stop it. Neither due to getting used to it, nor by the choice to kill yourself. No sinner could actually kill themselves unless they owned angelic weapons. And that chance was lower than the chance of the Happy Hotel succeed. Okay, maybe not that low. But still low.

She sneaked around a pipe attached to the edge of the second tower, lifting her head into the red sky. Day or night, lunch or dinner time, it didn't matter considering the red stayed the same shade throughout the year. Were there any signs for seasons at all? If so, she'd not seen them yet. At least familiar looking stars shone at random spots around the white planet that must've been heaven. Or at least she assumed so.

Shaking her head free, she jumped to the other pipe. It's not her intention to run late as it's not her style pushing the schedule around. However; how could she have said no when they practically begged her to help with the spontaneous side job they involved themselves in rather involuntarily. It's not really their fault and therefore she found no strength to brush their pleading off.

But now she risked the tragedy of getting spotted since she usually was long gone by this time of the night. Not in any sight, invisible to the world of royals that lived inside this castle. Despite only having seen a few faces before — she didn't want to test her luck either. It's better she stayed unaware of the actual number of residents inside the big place she used as shortcut.

Her bare paws landed silently on the floor of the balcony, another one she crossed every single time she's required to get to the other side of Pentagram City. Which was, if nothing messed up, every single work day. It was part of her everyday life after all. She sighed out after realizing it's still empty inside. What a lucky bitch, she thought to herself bewildered and in pity.

It's always a risk using this pathway. At least then she knew what hour was the best in order to avoid the rare chance of an encounter. That's something she inspected before even trying to use the castle as her own personal bridge, it's just so much easier and quicker walking and climbing this insanely big building than running around it. Making her ignore anxiety entirely.

───────────

“You're a fucking disgrace!!”

She yelled into his face with her shrill tone of voice. Filled to the brim with anger that caused his stomach to twist until it threatened to throw up the remaining content right in front of her feet. His pulse overpowered the shattering reality of these pathetic, whiny nosies coming out his beak.

“You have one job, Ray. One! And you can't even do this right, can you!?” She ignored his sad sounds.

He felt both legs shake. “I… I'm really sorry, Rika—”

Her hand shot into the air, shutting him up the same millisecond. He swallowed the bitter taste of both fear mixed with guilt once her brows twisted furious.

“Dare you call me by name at this moment. You're not allowed to.”

Her glaring green eyes drilled through his every single thought — making it impossible to think about his next words. How to present the apology burning on his tongue.

Her tone sharpened drastically. “I don't want to fucking hear it… Seriously. You're a Goetia Prince, for Satan's sake!”

These words left with such desperation, as if she waited for someone to come in and explain this circus of a display to her. All Ray could do was pressing his hands into each other for a little grounding and let her continue scream until it echoed against the walls, coming back into his ears a second time afterwards. Like a second punishment.

“All you had to do was present the next centurie's climate change on earth! How hard can it be when it's your purpose!?”

She raised both arms into the air, looking up while her white bird face started to turn red from the madness he caused her. That's what he always did, he was painfully aware.

“Yet you didn't even finish the research… Am I and everyone who has to deal with your lazy ass a joke to you!?” Her eyes shaded a dark, crazy green.

“No!” He yelped back helplessly.

Hands pressed into fists out of pure desperation to fix his mistakes, his blue glowing eyes met her green ones, thus she narrowed them.

“I- I'm sorry I didn't finfish yet— the earth is a very wild climatic place! It's hard to b-be consistent in the results if one tiny bit can change everything! It—”

The blabbering died by the sound of her flat hand hitting his cheek with all her might. He felt the electric pain shooting through his nerves, almost knocking him to the ground by how she liked using all her strength when putting him into his rightful place.

“I so not care about your excuses, Ray…” She mumbled threatening low.

He rubbed his cheek to ease some of the pain. Yet the tears strung in his eyes regardless. Not brave enough to meet hers again.

“You embarrass me, the entire Goetia family!...” Her hand wiggled as she must've caused herself some pain by the impact as well. “Have some class and skill for once in your otherwise useless existence… For all our sakes. You're a fucking headache like this.”

He lowered his head as deep as he could — letting her spit the words with the venom of hatred he made her feel towards him since what felt like forever. Without waiting for a response from him, she turned on her heels to leave the room. Her golden locks curled around her arm gently in contrast to her radical movement of tearing the door open. He couldn't even hear it over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

“Oh, and Ray.” Air thicker than butter.

She looked over her shoulder, much calmer in her appearance now. Both of them knew better, though.

“Do my decision of taking care of you dirty one more time and you can rot away all alone in this castle forever. I don't care.”

“Yes, Ri— My Savior.” He quickly corrected his mistake.

Although he's praying internally she didn't notice, she either did not or she simply didn't care — she just left the room with a bang. Ray's body flinched hard from head to toe at the deafening sound of her going out of the castle. Letting him stand in silence and guilt to think about the mistake he'd done.

Somehow nothing he ever did seemed to be right, good enough or just worth acknowledging with more than a mere nod. A sigh left his beak, coming out from the deepest place of his stomach which still spun uncomfortably fast. His face shifted into a disgusted grimace, forcing him to close his eyes.

Why can't I be better? Not look like a disgrace to the rest of his peers who were more than talented and royal blue than he ever felt. It's unfair, he thought sad. It's unfair that no matter how hard he tried being better, being a Goetia Prince, it was never good enough to anyone. Was he doomed to live in this misery of being a failure forever?

The tears that had been on the edge finally found their premission to run down his cheeks. It made him feel only worse about himself, though. He wasn't supposed to cry. Or be this weak in general. It was disgraceful. With that he took his steps towards the balcony, perhaps some fresh air would help him relax both his racing pulse and the uneasy carousel inside his belly.

On his way, he wiped the tears as well. Although nobody should be able to see him from that height — it was better not risking someone being able to catch him in this state and take a photo for social media. Then she'd make her threat come true, leaving him forever lonely to rot away inside these walls made for influential royals.

───────────

She froze in her place when the doors to the balcony opened without a warning. The sound of marbel hit the glas once they were out of the way — there was the face she'd been avoiding the most, right after the blond bird woman. Her heart stopped working and came to a standstill.

Any plan of escape, the ideas she played through endlessly for her safety now vanished altogether. Leaving her defenseless to the loud gasp of the Prince. Who's eyes widened in pure shock when his hands shot up to his chest the same second. Shit, she thought panicked. I'm so busted...!!!

Ray couldn't move for a good while. Somehow his muscles didn't listen to any order after finding an unexpected visitor on his private balcony.

Her purple hair moved slightly with the warm wind of hell. Big, round yellow eyes stared directly into his, as if they tried to reflect his own. She was smaller than him, but to be fair, most people were. A sinner... he noticed immidiately because of her form. She's no native to hell. This cat-like appearance must've been a result of either her sins on earth or the silent story of how she died.

He ears dropped down onto her head, hiding away almost. The panic ate away at her nerves, wondering what punishment a Prince of the Goetias would come up with. After all, not only was she rudely invadig his private place, but she also sneaked around like she's about to actually break in. It made the sweat run down her back.

Then, by the most rooted reflex, she felt her legs shake heavily. "I don't mean any harm!!" She yelled out.

"I- I swear I only pass over your castle t-to reach my town faster-! It- It's not what it looks like-"

However, the Prince didn't take in her justfications, nor the whimmering tone of voice under her words. He kept staring at her. For some reason he wasn't feeling anything. He neither felt anger, nor fear. No worry, offense or confusion. All he could do was look at her roundly shaped face and eyes.

The darkness of earlier suddenly left his shoulders. She was pretty, her straight hair fading into a colder purple down along her strains, her clothes reminded him a bit of that gothic style some people wore throughout their daily lives. The fact she wore no shoes was a good way to realize just how small her figure truly was. These soft looking feet were maybe as big as the palm of his hand.

It's obvious that she couldn't be older than him. Time moved foward differently in hell, yes, but there's this qurik to her that revealed she must've come here not too long ago. The Prince blinked out of his trance — hearing her still ramble while being pressed against the railing.

She's scared, he finally made the conclusion for himself. Her pupils were only a point wide and continued shaking with tremor of pure fear. And while he's having every right to be filled with wrath, his intuiton made him decide to not be bitter towards her. He's able to see she didn't mean to come rob or harm him.

Her fearfull attitude, this slim albeit elegant body of hers, it all screamed innocence. And while it should never be taken for granted — he's aware it was the truth. A foreign wamth spread inside his chest.

"No, stop." He said calmly, lifting his hand.

The way her mouth snapped shut wasn't what he intended, so he shook his head. "I mean... tell me the reasoning."

The air around them burned for her. She had no idea how it felt on his feathers. The soft tone caused mistrust to bubble up. Why was he behaving like she didn't just land on his balcony as a stranger?

Knowing there's no choice, she swallowed the lump blocking her throat. "I... use the castle as a shortcut to reach my city faster, My Prince."

Although they quavered at the edges, the Prince's cheeks heat up until they turned a deep pinkish color due to her words.

The title definitely was nothing new. Despite the most stuff calling him Mr. Ray on his demand, being called a Prince shouldn't have made his heart jump as high as it did. No, he thought half conciously. It's not about being adressed as Prince. She said "My Prince."

What was going on with him? He never felt this way before, clueless he wondered what spell she probably used to tame him for her benefit. For now, however, he didn't mind all that much and instead nodded thoughtfully because of her simple answer. It seemed logical — she's a cat demon. Sneaking around places had been a new gift amongst the torture of this enternal life.

He scanned the floor for a second. Then he raised his eyes again. "You swear upon your wounds its the truth?"

No room to interpert this oath, considering it sounded oddly specific, she breathed through silently. "Yes, My Prince." She swore.

The Goetia noticed the breeze of the night came flowing easier now. Without awareness, a smile creeped under his beak. And while she's no expert on bird demons — she realized that it was a smile indeed. Confusing her further, feeding this doubt that cricled around her head.

"What's your name?" He couldn't help the question.

The stranger blinked once, then a second time. "....(N), My Prince." The fright too present for his and her taste.

(N).. he replayed her name in his mind with his own voice. (N) sounds beautiful. That's the first thing he came up with. Her name was just like her apperance. It was beautiful. His smile widened an inch.

"How long have you been using my castle as your shortcut?"

"Since... two months, My Prince."

"When did you die?"

"Five months ago, My Prince..."

"(N), certainly you're aware of what you're doing."

No answer to reciprocate. Of course she knew, it's not like she was stupid enough to sneak over places she didn't at least did surface research on. All she's able to offer was a reluctant nod. The Prince sighed conflicted.

On one hand it's his duty to punish intruders, regardless their intentions. On the other though, he couldn't deny this shot of excitement once they first made eye contact. This Sinner reminded him of a pet. Of a cute, little kitten that's just seeking shelter when breaking into the back of a house. It didn't mean to cause trouble. It was looking for a comfortable place to rest in.

Exactly that's what she looked like to him. It's not the truth, it couldn't be and neither of them would have the power to convince him otherwise. But maybe, just maybe, he found a new opportunity. Something better than this msierable, lonely life he was forced to live. She looked like she needed shelter — he could give her shelter.

His shoulders relaxed. "Come, (N)." He meant it as an invintation, but sounded more of an order by accident.

The girl's ears shot back into the air. Wiggling her tail unconsciously fast by the insane situation. She knew she couldn't make it if she tried to run away. He'd catch her before she managed to jump off the balcony.

That's it, she shivered defeated. Stomach spinning and making her sick to the bones. He's going to do the worse to me for touching his castle...

Plagued by intense fear, her legs managed to move along his enormous steps regardless. She hugged herself, feeling the goosebumbs even underneath the layers of fur. Praying to whatever's there that it would only result in instant death, that's the best outcome she could imagine. What else would be better?

He closed the doors behind her after they entered the living room. Mint eyes fixated on the handle — a new wave of excitement overcame his system.

His heart pulsed hard in his neck, hands and feet. This was totally forbbiden. He never ever could invite a lower class demon into his private walls. If Rika knew... The mere thought of her finding out ran down in an ice cold shower. With all these warnings, this ungodly risk he took, it was still so thrilling. This had to happen and he told himself it was nothing other than fate.

She's a lost kitten that needed shelter. And he could provide her the best shelter in all of hell. Ray shook himself from the words and turned his head around. She stood in the middle of the room. Taking all attention, as if pulling it onto only her. Her arms were wrapped around her chest, it made him a bit sad he couldn't see her chest now. Yet her face — it was everything.

"(N)," He made her flinch by accident. "Tell me about yourself."

The second the order left his beak, he's bewildered by himself for asking such a trivial thing. Again, he couldnt't win against these intrusive thoughts. She was like a flower than an actual cat when thinking about it. He would scrap through the dirt until she had space to bloom. He's certain she would be gorgeous after she presented him her petals. All he had to do was digging into the depths of the dirt. She would come out.

She licked over her lips in a nervous manner. "I... W-What would you like to know, My Prince..?"

"Whatever there is to learn, Flower. Whatever it is. I want to know."

[darling-aries]

Taylor Swifts unreleased song Need 100% gives me GE Saeran and Ray vibes.

Want is the cigarette smoke on a jacket

You wore to the wrong part of town

Desire is the sound of the whiskey

Telling me you miss me, can you come around?

Passion is a passing thing

It's accidental chemistry

Lust is a liar, a short-lived fire

It ain't what you and I are at all

Oh, it's a need, it's a need

I would go anywhere that you lead

I am hopeless, breathless, burning slow

Touch me, hold me, tell me, "I won't let you go"

I won't leave, it's a need

Danger is a thousand prickles on my neck

That tell me to run or to freeze

Fear is the nightmare I had, you were with someone else

You forgot about me

Passion is a passing thing

It's accidental chemistry

Caught up in a feeling, it can be deceiving

This is like breathing for me

Oh, it's a need, it's a need

I would go anywhere that you lead

I am hopeless, breathless, burning slow

Touch me, hold me, tell me, "I won't let you go"

I won't leave, it's a need

Baby, it's always

A new kiss every time we do this

The truth is

It's essential to me

That you love me more than

Wishing, longing

Oh, it's a need (It's a need), it's a need (Ah-ah, ah-ah)

I would go (I would go) anywhere (Anywhere) that you lead (Oh, oh)

I am hopeless, breathless, burning slow (Burning slow)

Touch me, hold me, tell me, "I won't let you go"

I won't leave (I won't leave), it's a need (Oh)

[smileysuh]

hotel california

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Time is a funny thing in this place. I know it’s been days, weeks, years even- that I’ve been here, but I don’t know for how long. I eat, I sleep, I drink- I repeat. I don’t grow old, I don’t get sick. I just am. It’s fucking boring if I’m behind honest with you, or at least it was. It’s been a while since we had someone new show up at the hotel, and even longer since that someone was as gorgeous as you.” 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, fingering, pussy eating, blow job, roughhousing, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, multiple sex positions, spanking, mentions of pain kink, mentions of masturbation, breast worship, watching yourself in the mirror while you fuck, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 9.9k

🍭 aus. Non idol au, strangers to lovers, song as inspo, etc..

☀️ mlist + an. I’ve wanted to tackle ‘The Hotel California’ song by Eagles for ages, and after months of thinking about how to do it best, I think I finally did it justice. I wanted to also draw some inspiration from the tv show ‘The White Lotus,’ with the first season (and the first season’s Hotel Manager) being particularly interesting to me. I’m really excited about this fic, and I hope you guys enjoy it!

One:

Driving across the Californian desert after a twelve-hour shoot had not been your plan, but being double booked by your agent had left you with little choice in the matter. You’re still a blooming model, and you can’t yet afford the luxury of easy flights- no, you have to do it yourself, and it’s determination that’s driving you as you speed down the highway with the sun beginning to set.

You’re exhausted, and you can feel your body beginning to tire from your long hours, but you push on. In an effort to keep yourself awake, you put on some music, doing your best to focus on the long winding roads as you take the liminal path between one civilization to the other.

It’s a pretty drive if nothing else, at least as the sun sets, but once the purple and pink sky has faded to black, the whole thing feels monotonous. 

You yawn loudly, pushing harder on your gas pedal. There are no cops out here this deep in the desert, and if it saves you even ten minutes to speed, it will be well worth it.

It’s hard to concentrate, and you can feel yourself getting drowsier and drowsier, your eyelids getting heavier with each passing breath, but you’re in too deep to pull off on the side of the road.

Your body is relaxing, succumbing to the exhaustion. Your eyes begin to close- and just as you’re on the precipice of falling asleep at the wheel, your car makes a rough sound.

Body lurching with anxiety, your heart thumps wildly in your chest, and once again, your car makes a noise it shouldn’t be making.

With a loud groan, you slowly pull off to the side of the road, and that’s when the engine begins to billow smoke out from under your hood.

You reach for your phone, only to find it’s dead, and with a loud, “Fuck!” you get out of your car.

It takes you a second to remember how to pop the hood, after all, you’re a model, not a mechanic. As the hood lifts, a gust of hot smokey steam flairs up at you, and without your phone to use as a light, you can only rely on the rays of the moon to guide you as you fiddle with your car on the side of the road in the middle of the desert.

After five minutes of panic, you decide to give up. As you look around, you realize there’s a light in the distance. It’s a faint light, but a light nonetheless. 

You return to your car, sitting there for a while as you decide what to do.

Leaving your vehicle on the side of the road isn’t exactly the best-case scenario, but neither is staying with it overnight- you’ve heard that the desert can get cold when the sun goes down, and you’re already feeling chilly.

You weigh your options. After a while, you collect your things from the trunk and begin to make the trek down the long desert road toward the lights that symbolize civilization of some sort. 

Two:

“Welcome to The Hotel California,” a peppy man smiles when you approach the front desk.

It turns out the lights you’d seen from your car had belonged to a cute one-story terracotta hotel. You didn’t realize there were hotels along this stretch of road, but relief floods through you as you approach the man whose badge says ‘Jeonghan. hotel manager.’

“Hello,” you smile, releasing a sigh. “My car broke down a little ways up the road.”

“Well that’s not very good,” he frowns, empathizing with you.

“I need a room for the night, and I’d appreciate it if I could use a phone to call for someone to come and look at my car in the morning,” you explain. 

“I can get that settled for you,” he assures you, writing something down in the notebook in front of him. “A room for one?”

“Yes, it’s just me,” you confirm.

“Name?”

You give him your information, reaching into your bag for your credit card.

“We won’t need any form of payment until check out,” Jeonghan assures you. “Anything you eat or drink or do will be added to your tab, and you can deal with it another time.”

“Thank God, you have no idea how exhausted I am.”

“I’ll have our bellhop escort you to your room and help with your bags,” the hotel manager smiles. He waves over a man, whose nametag reads ‘Seungkwan,’ and with another nod and a grin to you, the manager watches you walk off.

You take a moment to look around. While the exterior of the hotel had been very rustic, the interior is Art Deco. There are many mirrors, and the lobby has a few red velvet couches strewn about. It’s actually kind of cute for a hotel in the middle of nowhere, and you’re thankful you’d come across it.

If your car had broken down even five minutes before, you doubt you would have seen the lights of The Hotel California, and then where would you be? 

Three:

You wake as light peaks through the blinds of your room. With a yawn, you sit up in bed, immediately reaching for your phone on the bedside table.

Although you’d plugged it in to charge the night before, the screen is still dead.

Your heart sinks in your chest, and with a groan of exasperation, you stand up. 

After putting on clothes and making yourself feel presentable, you head out in search of the lobby, where you find Jeonghan behind the front desk as he had been last night.

“Hi,” you greet him. “I was wondering if you have any news about my car?”

“We called a towing company, they had to come out from the nearest town. No word yet on what’s wrong with your car or how long it will take to fix.”

It’s hard to hide your disappointment as you release a deep breath. “So… I’m stuck here.”

“It would appear that way,” Jeonghan smiles politely.

As you’re about to leave, you remember the other point of contention on your mind, and you turn to look at the hotel manager again. “I tried to charge my phone last night, and I’m not sure if it’s a problem with my charger or your outlet, but it didn’t charge.”

“I can take your phone for you for now, and I’ll see if one of the chargers or outlets we have here will work,” he suggests.

You stare at him. The idea of giving up your phone doesn’t sit right with you, but at this point, you’re too tired to care. Although you’d gotten sleep, your body still feels exhausted- how many hours had you even gotten in bed?

“What time is it?” you ask.

“I think it’s time for you to get a watch,” the hotel manager teases.

“Right…” you trail off, pulling your phone out of your pocket to hand to him. “Please get this back to me once it’s charged, I’ve gotta call my agent and maybe rearrange a mode of transportation or something.”

“Go relax and I’ll deal with all of this,” Jeonghan assures you. “We’ve got a morning buffet in the dining room just down the hall, I suggest you go and get your strength up.”

“Thank you.” 

You follow his direction down a few corridors to a dining room. It’s a lovely space, with one line of glass walls that look out at the desert. The style choice is as art deco as the lobby, and while you’d found it charming at first, you’re already getting sick of the mirrors everywhere.

A large table lines the far wall, and there are many silver trays with food on them. Heading over there, you find a plate and begin to choose what you want to eat.

As you make a dish for yourself, you look around, noting that there aren’t very many guests in the hotel. You suppose that it’s a very odd location for a hotel, and its remote nature is probably the reason you only see a handful of people around.

Once your plate is full, you approach one of the many empty tables, taking a seat and looking around once more.

There are two men dressed in suits, and you immediately assume they’re in business of some sort. You wonder what they’re doing here of all places, but you don’t dwell on it for long, not when you notice that their table is covered with plates.

They’re both rather lean men, so you wonder how they plan to eat all the food in front of them, but you decide not to be a person who pries. After all, you’re only going to be here a short time, you don’t have to care about what others are doing around you.

Your gaze shifts to a man seated near the windows. His hair is dark and curly, and he has a pair of glasses on. His gaze is focused on a book in his hands, and you notice the only thing on his table is a lemon water.

For some reason, he gives you monk vibes, and you wonder how a man so young and attractive can be so peaceful in his way of living.

The hair on the back of your neck prickles, and you realize someone is watching you. There’s a man in the corner of the room, and on second glance, you realize he’s next to a record player. He stares at you for a few seconds, then lifts an entire bottle of whiskey to his lips.

He makes you uncomfortable, and after that, you just focus on your own plate, repeating to yourself that this will all be over soon.

Four:

After breakfast, you head back to your room, and when you get there, you’re surprised to find both your laptop and all your charging cords are missing.

You scramble through your bags, hoping you just misplaced them- but no, your electronics are gone, and it makes your heart race with anxiety.

You all but run back to the lobby, but when you arrive, Jeonghan is not there.

Looking around, you realize there’s a bar set up in the corner, and you quickly make your way over, stopping in front of the bartender. “Hi, I checked in last night, my car was having issues, and then so was my phone- I gave my phone to your hotel manager to charge, and when I got back up to my room my laptop and charging cords were gone-”

He stares at you blankly, and you read the name on his shirt.

“Look, Joshua, I just need help. I need something. I have to call my agent, I have to do something-” 

“Have a drink,” he suggests, lifting a bottle of tequila from behind the bar.

“I don’t need a drink,” you groan. “I need my phone, I need my laptop, I need my car- I need you to help me sort this out!”

“Calm down, gorgeous, Joshua just works here, you’re not going to get a lot of help out of him unless you want a mean cocktail.” A deep voice makes you turn, and you find yourself staring at the man who you’d seen by the record player at the buffet earlier.

He’s still carrying his bottle of whiskey, but it’s only about half full now.

“He works here, so he should know what to do or who to call-”

“Like I said, the most you’re going to get out of him is a wine and steak pairing recommendation,” the man in front of you laughs. “I’m Seungcheol, by the way.”

You tell him your name with a sigh, and you don’t miss the way his gaze rakes up and down your body.

“So what’s your story?” he asks.

“My car broke down, I walked here, my phone is dead, my laptop is stolen, I’m having a really shit day.”

“Sounds like it.” He brings the bottle of whiskey to his lips, taking a large gulp. “Maybe you should take Joshie’s advice and have a drink.”

“What I need is a nap,” you state. “I’m going back to my fucking room, to have a fucking siesta, and when I’m done, that fucking hotel manager better have my phone charged and my car fixed.” 

Five:

You have no clue what time it is when you wake up from your nap, all you know is the sun is beginning to set and your whole body hurts. You groan to even sit up, and you realize you feel as exhausted as you had this morning before your nap.

Are you getting sick? 

Deciding you don’t have time to dwell on the state of your body, you head to the lobby, where once again, Jeonghan is nowhere to be seen. So instead, you head to the bar, where the ‘Seungcheol’ man is sitting and chatting with Joshua.

You take the seat next to him and he turns to look at you with a grin.

“Hi, gorgeous, how was your nap?”

“Uneventful,” you state. “Look, I need a ride to town.”

“Which town?”

“Any town, I don’t care, I just need to get out of here.”

“Well, I don’t have a car.”

“You don’t have a car?” you stare at him in shock.

“Nope, just a motorcycle, and I doubt all your shit would fit on it.”

“I will literally leave ‘my shit’ here and come back for it once my car is fixed.”

“Well…” Seungcheol taps his fingers on the bottle of whiskey in his hand. “My motorcycle broke down on the way here.”

You blink as you look at this man. He’s stunning, with a strong jaw, broad shoulders, curly hair- but fuck, he’s a bit dense. “Well?” you ask. “Was it towed? How long have you been waiting for it to get fixed?”

Seungcheol only grins, taking a sip of his whiskey. “A while.”

For some reason, the way he says it is ominous. You don’t know if he’s playing with you, or what- but you’re done with all of this bullshit.

“I’m going to bed again,” you announce.

“Didn’t you just wake up?”

“I am going to bed!” 

Six:

When you wake up the next morning, the first thing you do is go to the lobby. You can’t help the relief that floods through you when you see Jeonghan standing behind the front desk.

“Thank God,” you almost laugh with triumph. “Do you have news about my car? Or my phone? Also, someone stole my laptop yesterday!”

“Unfortunately I have no news about your car, and it seems none of the chargers are working with your phone,” Jeonghan frowns.

It feels like the breath has been knocked from your lungs. “What?”

“Also, I don’t know anything about your laptop, but I’ll look into it.”

You’re tired of this hotel manager taking charge- tired of being at this Art Deco hotel in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.

“You know what, I’d like to check out,” you tell him. “I’d like to grab my things, call a taxi, and just go to the next town and wait for my car to be fixed.”

“I’d love to help you with that,” Jeonghan says, “but unfortunately there are no available cars to take you to the next town.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, no taxis come out this far, you couldn’t bribe them with a hundred bucks to come grab you.” Jeonghan laughs as if what he’s just said is a joke. “And unfortunately all the actual cars on the property belong to people who work at the hotel, all of whom are on shift and can’t drive you.”

“Can’t I wait till someone’s off shift?”

“Everyone on shift lives here in the staff quarters and I can assure you that no one wants to drive to the next town, which is over two hours away, after a twelve-hour shift.”

“So…” Your heart is racing. “What are my options?”

“Well, you can check out if you’d like,” Jeonghan says, “but unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be able to actually leave the premises unless you walk, which would be very dangerous.” 

“Fuck. Give me my phone back.” 

You watch Jeonghan reach down and pull your cell out of a drawer, and then you snatch it from his hands.

“Have a lovely evening!” he calls as you turn and storm to the bar.

“What was that about?” Seungcheol asks as you come to stand next to him, releasing a breath of exasperation as you set your hands on the bar top.

“Joshua, give me a bottle of something.”

“What do you like to drink?” the bartender asks.

“Anything.”

“Looks like you’ve changed your tune, gorgeous,” Seungcheol grins next to you.

“I’m going to get drunk, and then I’m going to walk back to civilization if it’s the last thing I do.”

You note the way Seungcheol’s expression falters. “For real?”

“Yes, for real.” 

Joshua places a bottle of tequila on the bar and you snatch it up, flicking off the lid and taking a large chug. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Seungcheol muses. “He doesn’t either, do you, Joshie?”

“I just work here,” Joshua shrugs.

“Unless one of you wants to drive me back to town, I’m walking!” 

You can feel Seungcheol studying you, and then he sighs. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“I never asked you to come.”

“But I’m coming anyways, it wouldn’t be responsible to let a cute girl like you go out into the desert alone. There are aliens and shit.”

“Sure there are,” you roll your eyes.

You have a few more sips of your drink, getting yourself jazzed up for this- and then, you turn to look at the door that leads out of The Hotel California. “Okay, let’s get out of this fucking hellhole.”

Seungcheol releases a chuckle, shaking his head, and then he stands, following you out into the desert beyond.

The first half hour or so is you walking with determination, but as time ticks on, you begin to falter.

“Finally ready to turn back?” Seungcheol asks.

“Why did you even come with me?” you snap.

“I told you, it wouldn’t be safe to send you out here alone.”

“Because men who ride motorcycles really care about safety,” you roll your eyes.

Seungcheol only laughs, and he says nothing else, allowing a silent trek for another hour or so.

Is it an hour? Fuck, you can’t really tell. There are no clocks, no phones to check the time- you have no clue how long you’ve been out here, and anxiety is beginning to bubble up in the pit of your stomach.

Then- just as you’re feeling close to your breaking point, you see lights in the distance.

“Oh my God! We made it!” you practically scream, turning to look at Seungcheol, who doesn’t seem nearly as excited as he should be.

Your pace picks up, in fact, you begin to run toward the light, toward salvation-

You’re out of breath, your muscles screaming at you, but you push on… and that’s when you realize, these lights are familiar.

The excitement begins to die down, and when you’re close enough to see the source of the lights with clarity, you sink to the ground next to the highway in shock.

Gravel and sand crunches as Seungcheol comes to join you, standing a foot away.

“But- that’s- that’s the hotel!” you say.

“It is.”

“But- we went straight! We followed the highway! How are we back here again?”

You’ve never felt defeat like this, and you’ve been rejected by modeling agencies a number of times in your career. This is something different, it’s not just a momentary lapse- this feels more permanent, it feels more otherworldly, and you can’t wrap your head around any of it.

“I think…” Seungcheol releases a sigh. “I think it’s time I told you a few things.” 

Seven:

Seungcheol had insisted on going back to the bar to get a bottle of whiskey before divulging into a conversation with you. As you’d entered the lobby, Jeonghan had called out a bright ‘welcome back!’ and you were too defeated to acknowledge him.

You feel like a shell of a person as you lead Seungcheol back to your room, collapsing on your bed. “What the fuck is going on?” you ask.

“This is all going to sound a bit weird,” he admits.

“Weirder than us walking in a straight line for two hours only to find ourselves right back where we started? I doubt it.”

Seungcheol smiles, shaking his head a little as if this whole situation is somehow humorous.

“I think… everyone is stuck here.”

“Stuck here?” you question.

“You and I, we have similar stories. I remember driving my motorcycle, something happened, I pulled over, and then I saw this place,” Seungcheol explains. “I’ve talked to a few people who live here, and they all have the same story.”

“I don’t understand- Seungcheol,” you swallow thickly, “how long have you been here?” 

“You see,” Seungchol chuckles, but there’s a sad note to it, “Time is a funny thing in this place. I know it’s been days, weeks, years even- that I’ve been here, but I don’t know for how long. I eat, I sleep, I drink- I repeat. I don’t grow old, I don’t get sick. I just am. It’s fucking boring if I’m behind honest with you, or at least it was. It’s been a while since we had someone new show up at the hotel, and even longer since that someone was as gorgeous as you.” 

You can’t believe he’s taking this opportunity to flirt with you, so you pull yourself back on track. “Someone has to know how long we’ve been here,” you insist. 

“No one I’ve talked to knows.” 

“Well,” you take a breath. “I want to talk to those two men, the ones in suits who are in the buffet.”

“Why?”

“They strike me as the kind of men who would know things,” you tell him. “I can feel it.” 

Eight: 

You find the two men where they always are in the buffet. Tonight, they’re playing chess, using up a large table so the space not covered with the game board can be full of food and drinks. You still wonder at their glutenous ways, but that’s not why you’re here right now.

“Hi,” you say, trying to be friendly despite the day you’re having. 

The two men look up at you, then at their chessboard.

“I’m Y/N, and this is Seungcheol,” you introduce yourself only to be met with silence. “What are your names?”

“Jun. That’s Minghao,” one of the men says dismissively. 

“Do you guys happen to have the time?” you ask next.

They’re both quiet, and it’s making you angrier by the second, but you force yourself to keep your cool.

“Would you guys be able to tell me how long you’ve been here?

Still silence.

You look around for that man you’d seen, the one with glasses and a lemon water, but he’s nowhere to be found.

“Look,” you kneel down so you’re about level with the seated men, lowering your voice. “I just got here, something weird is going on, and I need answers.”

The two men exchange a glance, and it’s Jun who finally turns to you. “We won’t discuss this in the open.”

“Come to our room,” Minghao sighs. “But don’t make it obvious you’re following us.”

You wonder why the theatrics are necessary, but with a nod, you and Seungcheol move away. You take a seat at a table across the space, and after a few minutes where the two men converse in whispers, both stand up.

You wait for them to leave, and after a few seconds, you and Seungcheol slowly follow. 

Jeonghan watches you cross the space, and that’s when you realize why these men are being so weird. This hotel manager has an odd hold on everyone in this place.

When you make it to Jun and Minghao’s room, they open the door for you, saying nothing. As you enter the space, you’re ready to bombard them with questions, but when Jun moves to the coat closet, pushing fabrics aside, all your words die in your throat.

The entire wall, which had just been hidden, is covered in small tally marks.

“We were keeping a tab with a pen and paper, but the cleaner kept taking it away,” Jun explains. “I don’t think they want us to keep track of time.”

“And these tallies-” you begin.

“They mark the days the two of you have been here,” Seungcheol finishes.

“But,” you swallow thickly, “that’s thousands of days- that’s years!”

“Over sixty years,” Minghao says quietly.

“How can this be real?!” you ask. “You both don’t look a day over thirty.”

“When we’d arrived here, we weren’t,” Jun says sadly, “but that was in 1963.” 

“Nobody grows old here,” Minghao tells you, “because we’re in Hell.”

“So you both think that pansy hotel manager is the Devil?” Seungcheol scoffs.

You can see Minghao’s eyes immediately narrow in annoyance. “We just mind our own business, and we suggest you do the same.”

“Have you ever confronted Jeonghan?” you ask.

“Nobody confronts him,” Jun says sheepishly. “I guess, even though we’re all in Hell, lots of us are… scared of the consequences.”

“Well, he already took away my phone and my laptop,” you sigh, “I guess I have to be the man in the room and go deal with this.”

Nine: 

After spending the night thinking about it, you decide as the sun comes up that you’re going to rip the bandaid off.

Everyone in this fucking hotel is so evasive, but you’ll take this head-on. You’re a twenty-first-century woman, and you’ll be damned if some hotel manager ruins your entire life.

There’s a power in the way you walk as you head straight for the front desk, and you try to look intimidating despite your rapidly beating heart.

“Good morning,” Jeonghan greets you with a smile. 

“What’s the deal?” you ask.

“Hmm?” 

“The deal with this place, what’s going on?”

He flashes you a knowing smile, and the words that come out of his mouth next are an obvious load of shit: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You size him up, and you realize that, at this precise moment, you’re not going to get any information out of this man, so you decide to switch to plan two.

Turning on your heel, you head deeper into the hotel, and in the back of the dining room, you see Seungkwan slipping into a corridor. 

Catching him is easy since he’s not exactly running from you, and the man stops to politely nod at you. “Good morning.”

“What’s going on with this place?” you ask.

“Excuse me?”

“This stupid hotel, what’s the deal? All my electronics are missing, there are no clocks, and I left yesterday, I left! I walked down the highway for two hours only to end up right back where I started!” You can’t help the way your voice is rising in annoyance, and you partly hope that you can actually successfully intimidate this man-

As you look at him, you realize intimidation is off the table, because he releases a laugh.

“Look at you, little miss demanding.”

“Please,” you sigh, your heart practically wilting in your chest. “I just need to know.”

“Talk to the hotel manager, he can answer all your questions.”

“Except he can’t, or maybe the word is won’t-” You struggle for a moment. “Look, don’t you want to gossip with me?”

You can all but see his ears perk up at the word gossip.

“You’re a bellhop, you like secrets, right? You enjoy tea?”

His eyes narrow at you. “I’m more of a coffee drinker.”

“Tea, as in gossip, gossip is tea-” God, you wonder how many of these people are from the last century and have no idea what you mean when you use current lingo.

“I’m listening.”

“I’ll tell you some tea,” you insist. “Gossip for gossip, deal?”

“I want something else,” Seungkwan tells you, and that’s when you notice his eyes lingering on your throat, your necklace. “I want that.”

You sigh, reaching behind yourself to unclasp the silver chain. “Take it and tell me what’s going on in this stupid hotel.”

As soon as the jewelry is in the bellhop’s hand, his entire demeanor changes. It’s as if he’s gone from a young man, and turned into an old woman telling you about her neighbors and how she snoops at her window to collect information all day. There’s an air to his essence that tells you you’re about to find out exactly what’s happening in this so-called ‘Hotel California.’ 

“What have you heard so far?” he asks. “What do you think this place is?”

“I don’t know? Someone said it might be Hell, but I doubt Hell is an Art Deco and terracotta hotel in the middle of the desert.”

Seungkwan’s expression shifts with an all-knowing sort of twist of his lips. “This isn’t Hell. It’s purgatory.”

“What?” You feel your breath leave your lungs in shock.

“And Jeonghan, well, he’s not a hotel manager, he’s a grim reaper. His domain is this desert, and every guest at this hotel, they died in his desert, so their souls were his to pass judgment on.”

“Wait a minute, what do you mean we all died here?”

“Keep up!” Seungkwan snaps. “This is purgatory! Of course you’re dead!” 

Your entire body deflates now. “But… how?”

“Fell asleep at the wheel, didn’t you, little miss model? Seungcheol’s motorcycle hit a pothole. Minghao and Jun were high on coke and drove off a cliff by the ravine not far from here, thinking they were invincible. Every guest has a similar story, it’s a dangerous stretch of road after all.”

“So… who are you? And how do you know all the people I’ve talked to since I got here?” 

“I’m a nobody, a highwayman. But trust me when I tell you, the staff here keep tabs on everyone.”

“Are all the staff... Highwaymen?” you ask.

 “In one sense or another.”

“And… and Jeonghan chose to put us in purgatory?” you question. “Why didn’t he take us to a final place?”

“Because your unfinished sins were too great to gain you entry above, but not dark enough to gain you entry below.” Seungkwan pauses for a moment. “It’s best if you try to overcome your original sins, you might just make it out of here.”

“Overcome my sins?” you repeat, on the verge of laughing in an odd sort of complete hopeless hysteria that you’ve never felt before. “Has anyone ever made it out of here?!” 

“One man,” Seungkwan says thoughtfully. “In fact, you saw him. The man in glasses, Jeon Wonwoo. He was a powerful man back when he was alive, lustful and glutenous. But in his time here, he’s overcome, and you were his final test.”

Anger bubbles inside of you. “I was a final test? You mean I was brought here to test some horny guy!?”

“Not many women die on this stretch of highway, not many who are so grey and muted as yourself. Jeonghan found you to be particularly… puzzling.”

“Puzzling?” you scoff.

“You’re a model,” Seungkwan shrugs. “Lust, envy, pride, greed- you belong here like everyone else. Those businessmen, overwhelmed by pride, greed, envy, gluttony, sloth, and even wrath. They’ve only conquered lust in their eternity here, but that was to be expected with no women to enchant them. They treasure their own company now, far more than they’d ever treasure yours.”

“And Seungcheol?” you ask.

“Seungcheol?” Seungkwan actually laughs. “A rockstar from the seventies? Lust, pride, greed, wrath- in his day he had an enjoyment of starting mosh pits at his own concerts, of fighting people, of drinking and sleeping with many, many women. No, Jeonghan chooses the right people. You’re all here, and you’ll likely all stay here.” 

Ten:

You’re sitting with Seungcheol in a secluded part of the buffet room, and you’ve just given him a rundown on all things Seungkwan. For a moment, he just sits there, and then, his brows furrow. “That little fuck says I’m here because I used to start moshpits at my own shows?”

“And sleeping with lots of women I’d assume.”

“I’m gonna beat that fucking bellhop’s ass-”

“This is what he’s talking about!” you insist. “Wrath!”

Seungcheol steadies himself, and then he sighs. “Who would have thought the seven deadly sins were a real fucking thing.”

“People who believe in the bible and stuff?”

Seungcheol shoots you an unamused expression and you have to stop yourself from smiling.

You look down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers. “So… are we going to try to overcome our sins or whatever?”

The man next to you exhales deeply. “I’ve been here a long time,” he admits. “I don’t think I’m going to magically change because some bellhop said I’m a horny fuck with anger issues.”

“True.”

“Besides, Jeonghan brought you here to test the whole lust thing, and I think we both know I’m failing in that one.”

Your skin tingles. Is this seventies rockstar admitting he’s into you?

I mean… you’d suspected as much, but to hear it confirmed like this…

Do you want to be good? Do you want to work on yourself?

Or do you want to give in to these lusty feelings? Do you want to go wild and make the most of this place since you’re probably going to be here forever?

You feel completely torn, and you clear your throat. “I think… I think I need to go clear my head.”

Eleven: 

You find your way to the pool after some deep soul-searching. You’re in need of somewhat of a cleanse, and you think water could be a good way to do that.

It’s the evening, but the air is quite warm as you make your way through the open spaces of the hotel. The sky is dark above you, but stars twinkle, as does the moon. It’s oddly peaceful, if you forget the fact that you’re in some fucked of purgatory liminal space.

When you get to the pool area, you realize there’s a man you’ve never seen before, and he’s sitting by the hot tub. His feet are submerged in the bubbling water, and his head is tipped back, eyes closed. There’s a bong next to his right hand, and you can smell weed. 

You stand and watch him for a moment, then decide to approach.

“Hello?” you say, drawing his attention. “Are you new here?”

“No, but you are,” the man muses.

“I am… but I’ve never seen you before.” 

“You wouldn’t, I’m nocturnal. Might as well be, since there’s nowhere to go but here.”

Obviously this man has his own opinions of The Hotel California, and you take a seat next to him, crossing your legs. “What do you think of this place?”

“It’s whatever.”

You risk another look at him, and you realize he’s closed his eyes again, looking as relaxed as ever. That’s when you realize this man’s main sin is glaringly obvious; he’s sloth.

“How did you find weed here?” you ask.

“Brought some when I arrived, started growing it when I realized I wouldn’t be leaving.”

So… this man is growing weed, sleeping all day, and smoking all night in purgatory. Sounds about right.

“Do you want to leave?” you question.

“It’s whatever.”

“Some man named Wonwoo left,” you point out. “Seems like there’s a possibility.”

The man laughs. “That fucking monk finally got out? He’s been trying to be a good boy for years.”

You swallow thickly at the reminder that even if you try to be good, you’re doomed to be here for years. It’s not an ‘okay I’ve been good for a day, let me out now’ sort of situation. The whole thing leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you clear your throat. 

“I’m y/n by the way.”

“Vernon.” There’s a stagnant pause, and then he stretches. “You know, it’s nice here. You don’t have to cook or clean. There are no responsibilities. You just get to relax.”

“Kind of like an indefinite vacation.”

“Exactly.”

He seems nice enough, and if it wasn’t clear he was such a sloth with a thing for marijuana, you might expect him to be next on the list of viable options for getting out of this place.

“Just, enjoy yourself,” Vernon sighs. “You might as well.” 

Twelve:

After a night of thinking, you’ve finally made your decision on what to do in this God-forsaken hotel, and you head down to the lobby. One look at Jeonghan makes you rethink asking him for information, but you spot Seungkwan heading toward the buffet, and you quickly follow him out of sight from the manager.

“Hey,” you greet the bellhop, “have you seen Seungcheol today?”

“I believe he runs at this time,” Seungkwan explains. There’s a small rocky hillside out behind the pool, Seungcheol made a trail there for exercise, but between us, sometimes I think he’s hoping to get bit by a rattlesnake and die for a second time.”

From the small chuckle that leaves his lips, you can tell he’s trying to joke around, but you’re just not at the stage in your acceptance of this place to find dead jokes comedic.

“Thank you,” you nod, heading off in the direction he’s pointed you in.

The trailhead behind the pool isn’t very difficult to find, and you start up the path.

You have no clue what time it is, but you know it’s early morning. It’s just starting to get warm, but despite this, you have a fire inside of you driving to find the seventies rockstar.

This urge - call it lust maybe - it drives you forward, and finally, you find the man you’re looking for.

He’s in running shorts, and he’s shirtless. A sheen of sweat covers his muscular form, and God, he’s never looked this beautiful. His hair is curled from precipitation, and he’s panting, his hands on his hips as he stands at the top of the small hilly cliff that looks down at The Hotel California.

“Seungcheol!” you call, drawing his attention immediately.

“y/n?” 

You can tell he’s confused to see you here, and his brows furrow. Walking closer, you take a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking,” you tell him.

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking… if we’re going to be here forever, we might as well make it fun.”

Your words hang in the air, and on this tiny hill, you accept your fate. You accept that you’re dead, that you’re in some odd form of purgatory. And you accept the fact that you’ve found a partner to share this whole delusion with, for better, or for worse.

“So you’re saying…” Seungcheol swallows thickly, stepping closer to you.

“Just kiss me,” you laugh, shaking your head at him.

A massive smile appears on his face, and then he’s grabbing your hips and tugging you tight to his chest. His lips are on yours a moment later, and while you’d expected him to be an eager, lust-fueled maniac, he’s oddly slow with how he approaches this first interaction.

However, the kiss deepens when you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, your tongue swiping his bottom lip desperately.

Seungchoel lets out a deep groan, matching your rising energy with an enthusiasm of his own.

It feels so good to be doing this with him, and for the first real-time since you got to the hotel, you feel your anxiety slipping away. Your entire body is focused on this man, and this man alone- and then his hand slips down to your ass, grabbing it roughly.

“Hey,” you laugh, pulling away from the kiss. “We’re not fucking out here on some rock.”

“We’re not?” Seungcheol chuckles.

“Not in a million years, which it sort of sounds like we have.”

“Back to the hotel then,” Seungcheol tells you, and just like that, the two of you head back down the trail to the hotel.

It seems there are different routes to take, and you find yourself in the lobby as opposed to the pool, which is where Jeonghan stops you with a wave. “y/n,” he calls. “I’d like a word.”

Seungcheol groans, and you release a sigh, turning to look at him. “I’ll meet you later?” you suggest.”

“I’ll go shower, find my room after, I’m in number seventeen,” Seungcheol nods.

You watch him disappear, taking a moment to appreciate the muscles of his broad shoulders as he walks away, and then, you turn to face the hotel manager.

“Looks like you’ve made a decision,” Jeonghan muses.

You wonder what exactly he’s talking about. Is it a decision to pursue Cheol? To sin? 

You’re not quite sure, but at this point, you don’t care.

“I’ve made my choice,” you tell him, trying to sound confident about it.

“So you’ve chosen to be a part of The Hotel California.”

“I don’t think you left me with much choice,” you point out. 

A large smile appears on Jeonghan’s face. “I guess I have to agree with you there,” he admits. “Go. Enjoy Seungcheol. You might be able to help with his… less desirable traits if not his sexual habits.”

So everything here really is a set of scales. Cheques and balances. A lesser evil of cleansing Seungcheol of minor sins while fanning the fire of his lust. You suppose you can’t win them all. 

Thirteen:

You wander the hotel until you find room seventeen, and when you get there, you don’t even bother to knock. You simply push the door open, entering the space.

Seungcheol’s hotel room is different from your own. It’s significantly larger, with a den and a door that you assume leads to the bedroom. You make your way through the space, looking in at where he sleeps, which is where you find the man himself standing.

He has a towel wrapped around his hips, his hair is damp and curly, and God, he looks even sexier than he had on the hill. He’s so well muscled- part of you wants to lick his entire body and moan while you do.

Seungcheol turns to look at you, and when he smiles, you swear your knees feel weak.

“What did dickhead want?” he asks.

“Jeonghan?” Your mind goes blank. “He uh, I guess he wanted to see if I’m set on staying here or not.”

“And?”

“Well, we’re about to sin, aren’t we? So… guess I’m a permanent resident now.”

Seungcheol laughs. “Who wants to go to heaven if you can’t fuck there?”

“A lot of people I think,” you giggle.

“Well, not us.” He steps towards you, hands settling on your hips. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to show up.”

His words are nice, but you have some doubts lingering inside of you. “Would you fuck any girl who came here though?” you question. “Or am I special?”

“You’re special,” Seungcheol confirms. “You’ve got fire in you, I could tell from the moment we met.”

“Some people have called me a bitch before.”

“Well they can go fuck themselves,” he retorts quickly.

You laugh, looking around. “This is a nice room.”

“It wasn’t my original room, but once I realized I was staying here, I scouted out all the empty places to find my favourite.”

Your gaze shift up, and you notice that the ceiling is covered in mirrors. “I can’t escape these fucking mirrors.”

“These ones are fun though,” Seungcheol insists.

“Yeah? How’s that?” You wrap your arms around the back of Seungcheol’s neck, pulling him closer with a grin.

“Because… I can watch you when you’re riding me. You can see my sexy back when I’m fucking you. It’s just a good set up.” 

“And I guess you haven’t really had a chance to test it out before,” you muse.

“Not with another person.”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s saying, and then you laugh. “Cheol, are you telling me you watch yourself jack off with these mirrors?”

“It’s not like I have access to porno mags or anything!” he defends himself.

God, he’s from the seventies- did they even have easily accessible porn then? 

You push the thought out of your brain as you move closer to him, until your lips are just milimeters apart. “Now you have me.” 

“I do, don’t I,” he grins, tightening his grip on your hips. 

“Uh huh,” you nod. “And I haven’t been properly fucked in a while.”

“I bet I have you beat on that one.”

“Better make up for your lost time, big guy.”

“Better make this sin worth it,” he counters, and with that, he presses his lips to your own.

You smirk into the kiss, pressing your chest against his own as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. It’s a mad flurry of tongue and teeth, no being cautious as he had been on the hill earlier.

No, this time, you know exactly what you want from each other, and there’s a freeing feeling in that.

He’s quick to guide you toward the bed, and when he gets you there, he pushes you down onto it. His hands quickly tear at your shirt and you raise your arms to allow him to easily take it off of your body.

Seungcheol sinks to his knees on the ground, his lips attacking your throat and descending down to your breasts. Two large hands grab at your tits, massaging them through your bra. He’s practically motorboating his face against you now, groaning into your cleavage.

“Take off my bra,” you tell him. “Suck on my tits.”

Seungcheol chuckles, but one swipe of his hand behind your back has your bra coming undone, and you realize that despite his forced celibacy, he hasn’t lost his touch.

Your bra slips off, and Seungcheol immediately picks up where he left off, but this time, he has access to your bare skin,

He grabs your breasts, pulling one nipple into his mouth while you throw your head back and moan.

It takes you a second, but you have the idea to open your eyes, and when you do, the mirrored ceiling gives you the perfect view of this man kneeling on the ground and sucking your breasts.

There’s something sexy about the view, and when you thread your fingers through his curls, it makes things even hotter.

Seungcheol groans, roughly tugging your nipple between his teeth and making you cry out.

“Shorts next,” he instructs, pulling away so you can both work on getting you fully naked for him.

It’s a little shocking how fast this is all going, but you don’t mind. Lust is fueling every cell of your body, and before you know it, Seungcheol is pushing you so you’re flat on your back. He places your thighs on his shoulders, and then he dives into your core with his mouth.

You whimper at the sensation of him sucking on your clit lewdly, and again, when you look up, you can see the view.

Fuck, with him now bending half over the bed like this, you can see his shoulders even better.

He’s so broad and strong and sexy, and it makes your core pulse with pleasure as he eats you out like he’s been starved for fifty years, which he has.

 “Just like that,” you tell him, bringing your hands up to play with your nipples, loving the view of it all.

Seungcheol shifts, and then you feel a finger push into your entrance. He doesn’t go slow with it, he immediately starts pumping, fucking you while he licks and sucks on your clit roughly.

There’s no tact in his motions, no precision, he’s a wild man, and you suppose that fits his rockstar soul.

There’s something so sexy about this animalistic way he’s treating you, and when he groans against your clit, your entire body lights up with pleasure.

He has you closer to the edge than you’d ever imagined possible in such a short time, but you wonder if perhaps your body has been in need of some stress relief like this after such a crazy few days.

Another finger slips inside of you and you moan, reaching one hand to tangle in his hair again.

As much as you want to close your eyes and enjoy this, you can’t bear to look away from the view.

God, it’s absolutely glorious.

This gorgeous, beefy man, is practically ravaging you on a bed with silk sheets, worshipping your pussy with his tongue and fingers while you watch, enthralled with it all.

You can hear your core getting wetter, and with each thrust of his fingers you can feel your juices. His tongue circles your clit in the perfect way and your stomach muscles begin to clench, signaling your impending high.

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him, swallowing thickly even as you pinch your own nipple, writhing against the bed.

Seungcheol only growls in response, and the sound turns you on even more.

Within a few seconds, you’re coming undone, releasing a cry of pleasure as your body is flooded with euphoria.

Your hips push up against Seungcheol’s face, but his free hand pins you down, his tongue unrelenting on your clit.

Now, you have to force your eyes shut. It’s all you can do to contain the ecstasy he’s providing you, an electric feeling that’s surging through your entire body unlike anything else.

“Fuck, fuck- Cheol!” you gasp, wriggling in his grasp.

He pulls off your clit with a pop, and you can feel him looking up at you as he removes his fingers.

Then he stands, and you open your eyes to look at him.

“Here,” Seungcheol leans over you, and then he pushes his fingers into your mouth, “want you to taste yourself.”

All you can do is stare up at him in shock, lust overtaking you as you suck his digits off diligently. You even grab his hand to steady him, not wanting him to pull away until you’ve licked him clean.

“That’s a good girl,” Seungcheol groans. 

When you’re done with him, you release his hand, and Seungcheol pulls away with a deep breath.

“Can you suck cock like that?” he asks, undoing his towel so it can fall to the floor.

His hard length immediately slaps up against his abdomen, and you can see beads of precum dripping down his shaft. God, he’s super turned on, and your pussy pulses at the mere sight of him.

“Gonna give you the best head you’ve had in fifty years,” you promise.

“Ha ha,” Seungcheol says, but there’s little humour in it. 

You sit up, and then, you stand. He gives you a confused look, but when you push him down onto the bed, things seem to click for him.

You take your spot on your knees, where he’d just been, and this time, it’s your turn to push his legs slightly open, giving yourself space as you grab the base of his cock.

“Don’t cum in my mouth,” you warn.

“No?”

“Want you to cum inside me, don’t wanna waste a drop.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans as you put your mouth onto his tip, sucking and licking with all the enthusiasm he’d just given you. 

His hands immediately grab at you, pushing your hair out of your face. He holds you gently as you sink more and more of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue to tease every inch of skin that you can.

“Shit, feels good,” he tells you, collecting your hair into a ponytail to make things easier.

You hum against him and his hips twitch at the stimulus.

“Fuck-” he says again, and you’d bet your life - or maybe your afterlife - that he’ll be swearing a lot. 

He’s a man who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman in fifty years, you would blame him if he’s quick to bust?

“Keep going, fuck,” Seungcheol groans, applying some pressure to your head.

You don’t mind that he’s beginning to get rough with you, and you diligently sink further onto his cock, taking him all the way to the back of your throat. You gag a little around him, and Seungcheol releases his loudest moan yet, tightening his grip in your hair.

“Keep doing that, fuck, keep doing that!” he encourages you. 

You do your best to relax your throat, wanting to please him, to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had. You have always found satisfaction when pleasing others, call it a trauma thing or whatever you want to call it, but his pleasure is your pleasure, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second as you listen to his moans.

“Shit, I’m close,” Seungcheol tells you.

With those words, you immediately pull off of him, and he looks down at you in shock. 

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, remember?”

“Please?”

“No.” 

You stand up, staring down at this man, who suddenly looks very needy. Then, you push at his chest, prompting him to lay flat against the bed while his knees are still bent, feet on the ground.

One of your own knees makes contact with the bed, and then the other, so you’re straddling him now.

“You said you wanted to watch me ride you,” you remind him. “So watch me ride.”

You grab the base of his cock, lining it up with your core, then you sink down onto him fully.

He’s big, and you feel the stretch, but you’re so wet from this that your lubrication makes the actual taking of his cock much easier than you’d imagined. God, when you pause for a moment, fully seated on him, you both groan from the pleasure… then you begin to bounce.

“Jesus Christ,” Seungcheol whispers, one hand grabbing your hip while the other latches onto your breast. He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whimper, throwing your head back.

You look up at the ceiling, watching yourself ride this beautiful man.

The view makes your core throb, and you can feel your pussy clamping down around him, which earns another groan from the man you’re riding.

“You look so fucking good like this,” Seungcheol tells you, sitting up and using his hand as a brace against the bed so he can wrap his mouth around your nipple.

You grab him, threading your fingers through his hair and using him as an anchor as you move on his cock, bouncing to the best of your ability even in this position.

Again, you find yourself looking at the view, and you realize maybe this is a completely new kink of yours that you’d never discovered before.

“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol grabs your hips, making you stop. “My turn now.”

“Your turn?” you scoff.

“My turn,” he confirms.

Then, he’s standing up, and taking you with him. His hands grab your ass, keeping you pinned to his body while you squeal with delight, latching onto his shoulders.

“Wanna fuck you doggy first,” he tells you.

“So original,” you roll your eyes.

“Gonna make you regret that, gorgeous,” Seungcheol laughs.

“Then do it.”

With a shake of his head, he throws you onto the mattress, and with one quick manhandle, he has you on your knees with your ass in the air.

He’s standing at the foot of the bed, and he grabs your hips with one hand, his cock with the other. His tip finds your entrance, and with one rough thrust, he’s buried inside of you again.

“Fuck!” you whimper, arching your back and bracing your cheek against the sheets.

“Feels good, huh?” he asks, immediately picking up a pace that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Fuck, so good!” you moan, loving how deep he’s hitting, how rough he’s being.

A harsh smack erupts through the room, and you realize as the pain blooms like heat along your skin that he’s just spanked you.

“Did you like that?” he asks.

“Maybe?” You’re not sure how you feel about the sensation, but when a second smack comes, you jolt, your pussy clamping tight around Seungcheol’s cock.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” he teases.

“No!” you insist, but you can’t help the fact that you had enjoyed it, and you can tell from the gush of wetness you feel in your core that it will be clear to Seungcheol that you liked it as well. 

“Keep lying to yourself,” he laughs, his hand returning to your hip so he can fuck you even harder.

You enjoy the feeling of this for a while, but soon, you’re practically itching for another hit of pain.

“Spank me again,” you tell him.

“Hmm? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Spank me!” you say, louder this time. “Please!”

Another chuckle escapes the smug bastard behind you. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

One more spank becomes three, and you’re a whimpering mess at the end of it, clawing at the blankets like a whore.

“Guess we’re going to have to explore this pain kink of yours,” Seungcheol teases. “But first, I think I’m gonna cum in this perfect pussy and mark it as mine.”

You’re so overwhelmed by how good this has felt that you can’t even find the words to respond, but you don’t have to.

Seungcheol pulls out of your pussy, and then he adjusts you on the bed, pushing you closer to the pillows so when he joins between your legs, he has space to plank over you in missionary.

His cock enters you, his lips finding your throat, and as you stroke his powerful shoulders, you find yourself blinking up at your reflection. 

You’re watching yourself sin, but you’re entirely okay with it.

You’re listening to him pant in your ear as he gets closer and closer to the edge, but you kind of love it.

This hotel might be a place to overcome sins, but you’re not sure how anything this perfect - this natural - could ever be considered wrong.

“I’m close,” Seungcheol whispers, sucking on your earlobe.

“Then cum inside of me, give me all of it,” you tell him, tightening your grip on his shoulders.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, pressing his lips to your own. He kisses you desperately as his hips falter, his pace becoming erratic.

You can feel the moment he explodes, can feel his cock throbbing hard as he shoots his cum deep inside of you. He fills you up with warmth, and it feels like completion as he groans, half collapsing on top of you from the effort.

The kiss breaks, and you stroke his hair as he pants against your throat. Your eyes never leave your own in your reflection of the mirror over the bed.

Jeonghan might have put you in this place, but you’re the master of your own fate, and this is the direction you’ve chosen. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm going to miss this au.

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🔮 preview.   When Seungcheol thrusts, it pushes you onto Mingyu, and when he pulls back, he pulls you with him, effectively controlling the pace of absolutely everything. Seungcheol might be working on his envy streak, but he’s as controlling as ever… although, you kind of love that about him. Sure, he’s a flawed man, but he’s your flawed man, and as he begins to fuck you rougher and harder, you know that you’d never give this up, not even for Heaven itself. 

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, threesome, pussy eating, blow job, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, use of mirrors, masturbation, controling/dom Seungcheol, dirty talk, praise, slight degradation, spanking, deep throating, eiffle tower/spit roasting, etc…   I petnames. (hers) gorgeous. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

You’re sitting at The Hotel California bar with Seungcheol. The two of you enjoy having a few drinks before a night of raunchy sexual escapades, and at first, this is a night like any other… until, you hear a new voice and turn to see a stranger talking to Jeonghan by the front desk.

You can’t help the look you immediately exchange with Seungcheol.

The two of you have spent months- years even, enjoying each other, and one thing you’ve always discussed bringing into the bedroom to spice it up, is another person. However, no one currently at the hotel has ever caught your eye, so you’d agreed that if anyone new showed up… you two might give them a try.

Now, with a tall, dark and handsome stranger standing just meters away, you think you may have found your new third, and excitement bubbles up inside of you.

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[cheollipop]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.7k

tags: smut, fluff, a hint of angst, established relationship

rating: mature

amidst the trends of fancy birthday dinners and extravagant celebrations, you craved simplicity — a day of nothing shared in the presence of your most beloved. and choi san knew just how to satisfy a craving.

⁂ warnings: veryyy self indulgent oopsie, soft/service dom!san, sub!reader, pussydrunk san (yessir), unprotected sex (👎), creampie, lovemaking, fingering, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, begging, a hint of subspace (implied), mentioned morning sex, nicknames (baby, love, darling, etc.), very very sappy, lots of kisses, whiny san cause why not <3, aftercare.

⁂ A/N: real birthdays suck, so here's one that doesn't. happy (very belated) birthday user cheollipop. <3

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

You stirred, shifting onto your right shoulder and nuzzling the side of your face into the pillow beneath it. Floating within the idleness between slumber and consciousness, you embraced the warmth encapsuled underneath the duvet, most of it of oozing off the body resting beside you.

It was tranquil, quiet, your mind hopping between events as you recalled the unproductive day: Honeyed voice echoing in your ears and dimpled smile greeting your dreary eyes as soon as they’d opened to meet the new day’s sun. A new year’s sun. The catchy jingle of a birthday song had rolled off his tongue, the convenience store cupcake he balanced atop his palm holding a singular, lit candle. The flame danced as he approached your waking figure, his smile unwavering and eyes growing fonder while watching you rub the remnants of sleep off your eyes with the heel of your palm. Vanilla frosting painted your skin as soon as the soft flame blew out, a wish for happy days such as this to continue dying on your tongue, the off-white turning golden under the early morning rays peeking at your giggling figures through the open chiffon blinds. Vanilla frosting soon painted his face as well, unable to resist embracing you, his heart panging against his chest and yours, singing an encore of your birthday song.

You’d barely left your bed, walking back from the bathroom to find a tray holding a heaped plate of pancakes on your duvet — some clearly burnt and shoved under the pile in an act of concealment. He sat at the edge of the bed, sheepish smile on his face and wide, glimmering eyes begging to be praised. And what you were was a weak woman, barely giving the plate another glance before throwing yourself at the anxiously waiting man, endless kisses pressed to his dimpled cheeks and praise rolling off your tongue until hearty giggles shook his chest. You fell back onto the mattress, the sheets undone and bunched under your shared weight while you nuzzled into his neck. The laughter died down, and kisses turned into peppered pecks as you basked in each other’s warmth, your palms resting over his heart while he held you against his chest. The steam that’d been dancing above the golden pancakes had dissipated by the time you’d reached for the tray, a particularly loud growl voicing your stomach’s needs and parting you from the smiley man. He watched you eat, shaking his head when you’d angled the bite towards him, then pouting as he chewed after having it forced it into his mouth regardless. The stars in his eyes twinkled brighter the emptier the plate grew, nodding along to any and each word leaving your maple-covered lips while missing the context altogether. He continued to keep up a conversation he wasn’t following, fond eyes taking in your unmatched pyjamas and dishevelled hair, the hints of sleep hanging onto your eyelids as you took another bite of the breakfast he’d made you.

Oh, how thankful he was for your existence. For every breath you took by his side, he was thankful. And while birthday wishes are kept a secret — a whispered prayer for a long life surrounded by the comforting scent of baby powder — Choi San had vowed to celebrate you from the first moment you’d graced him with a smile.

-

The empty plates from breakfast still sat at your nightstand, the faint aroma of sweet maple syrup mingling in the air around you. Your stomach growled. The memory of a bandaged finger wrapped around his fork paused at the front of your mind, your hand absent-mindedly searching over the wrinkled sheets for his to hold. Your eyebrows furrowed when it came up empty, only for his hand to find you instead, fingers wrapping around yours and lifting them up to his lips. His mouth pressed to your knuckles, and you sensed the movement of his body as he shuffled closer, wide shoulders enveloping yours and your head cushioned against his chest, hand dropped back at your side.

“What time is it?” You mumbled against his shirt, finally blinking your eyes open to take in the faint golden hue painting the walls, the curtains open only a sliver, widening momentarily with every gentle breeze.

“A little past six,” San replied against your hair.

It hadn’t been long since you’d fallen asleep, then. Maybe an hour or two. Though uneventful, the day had passed by quickly, and while a past version of yourself would’ve preferred a luxurious outing, adorned in red lipstick and a fitted dress for San to ogle at, the simplicity in which your day had been spent — loved and cared for, celebrated in the most earnest of ways — no lavish dinner could have compared.

As the last of your forgotten dream dwindled away, you became more and more aware of the day’s laziness clinging to your body: the aftertaste of breakfast lingering in the back of your throat, the tank top underneath your hoodie beginning to cling to your skin as you overheated within San’s embrace, your face begging for a splash of cold water.

San whined when you untangled yourself from his hold, pulling at your sleeves in an attempt to keep you flush against his chest. “I need to wash up,” you giggled, leaning over his face to plant kisses over the highs of his cheeks.

“But I’ll miss you,” he pouted, lips quivering in a suppressed smile when yours reached them.

A familiar jingle sounded at the ajar door, furry footsteps making their way towards the shared bed where you continued your attempts of escaping the man’s arms. The Siamese hopped onto the mattress, bright eyes taking in the scene before approaching further.

“Byeol’s here to keep you company,” you watched as she nuzzled into San’s cheek, her chest vibrating with a content purr. The hand wrapped around your waist now moved to smooth over Byeol’s head, and you took that as a chance to hop off the bed, looking back at the betrayal glinting within his eyes. You cooed, walking to his side of the bed to plant a wet kiss onto his forehead, then onto Byeol’s, “I won’t be long.”

San watched your back disappear behind the doorframe, absentmindedly running his fingers over Byeol’s fur until she grew sick of it, walking away from him as well. Your scent clung to him, and yet he felt the need to roll over and dig his face into your still-warm pillow, inhaling the sweet aroma of your shampoo. A sense of comfort rushed through him as images of your smile, the mellow sound of your giggles, flashed into his mind. A day you’d expressed antipathy towards now filled with smiles and giggles. San felt accomplished. While he respected your feelings and the vulnerability you’d granted him while expressing them, his favourite person believing themselves unworthy of being celebrated felt wrong.  

Flowers, homemade cakes, walks under the stars, hummed melodies or belted lyrics — San had somehow made you look forward to a day you’d once dreaded. While it wasn’t much different than how he’d usually treat you, the consistency of his love had made every breath you took a blessing, every second spent apart tormenting, tension only releasing with the crush of his solacing embrace.

The warm stream ran over your scalp, your shoulder and down your sides into the drain, the floral scent of body wash mingling with the steam surrounding your figure. San’s whines echoed louder in your ears the longer you remained idle, nagging you to crawl back into his arms. You hurried through the rest of your routine, drying your hair the best you could before slipping a clean hoodie of San’s over your form.

You stared back at your reflection — fatigue leaving its mark on your undereyes, eyebrows undone and skincare routine too inconsistent to achieve the results you’d hoped it would. Every so often, you’d wonder how San perceived you. What did you look like in his eyes? Reaching for the door handle, you shook your head, dispelling those thoughts before San could sense them. You knew he’d get upset at any hint of insecurity.

San laid on his back — now on your side of the bed — duvet bunched at his waist and eyes trained onto the ceiling. The door creaked, dragging his attention to your sneaking figure, his eyes lighting up then softening as you stood there, digging your hands into the pockets of his stolen hoodie. Stolen sweatpants as well, it seemed, stifling a laugh at how they barely hung onto your hips.

Your eyes met, and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding. You knew exactly how you appeared in San’s eyes, it translated into everything he did, everything he said, down to the momentary looks shared and the grazing touches that lit your skin aflame. A sense of shame overcame you; how could you ever doubt him? A man who put his all into every word of adoration, each syllable dripping with the overwhelming emotion he held in his chest. His palm warm against your skin, delicate as it glided over you as though you were a fragile art piece, your worth unmeasurable and deserving of the utmost care. To Choi San, you were everything: hushed giggles and the inviting scent of roses — it was hypnotic. Over all the years you’d spent together, never could he cease to want you. Never could he control it.

He reached his arm towards you, flattening over the mattress with his palm up, beckoning you closer with a whisper and the twitch of his pointer and middle fingers, “C’mere.”

Nearly tripping over your feet, you rushed to the shared bed, crawling halfway to where he laid before he was on top of you, manhandling you onto your back as his lips found yours. Despite the million kisses you’d shared, possibly a few hundred since you’d greeted the new day, San’s kisses felt novel. A morning of rolling around in bed, lazy smiles and frosting smeared over your skin, San offered his first celebration, making love to you while your candle's wick was still steaming. Yet it all felt novel.

His lips fought a one-sided battle, perhaps a little too eager as his insides engulfed with flames of want. You, looking so pleased in his clothes. You, eyes downcast and cheeks rosy when he’d smeared the first line of frosting over your cheek. You, hurling yourself over him with praise rolling off your tongue after he’d managed a few half-burnt pancakes. You. You. You. He wanted you.

“I want you,” he whispered over your lips, cutting off any response you had and pressing his mouth back on yours.

Butterflies thrashed in your lower belly, arms wrapping around San’s shoulders before slipping down to tug at the hem of his shirt. He didn’t respond, his hands kneading at your hips as he deepened the kiss even further, nose digging into your cheek and teeth clashing, saliva coating your chin and his. His shirt now bunched at his chest, you struggled to keep up with his lips, tongue swiping over yours before dipping between them for more of your taste. You let go of the cotton, cupping his cheeks and forcing his face back a few centimetres, sucking in a deep breath once the cool air of your room hit your damp face. San’s eyes remained closed, lips pouted as he pushed against your palms — he wanted more.

“San, breathe—”

He brushed his lips against yours, pressing softly before pulling away to mumble under his breath, “gonna make you feel so good.” You felt short of breath again, watching as he straightened up to pull his shirt off before lowering his body weight back onto you, “I’ll make you feel as pretty as you are,” no hunger, no urgency, only a tender need to love and celebrate your being. “my pretty girl,” he planted a kiss to the high of your cheek, feline eyes softened the longer they stared into yours as he thumbed at the other, “mine.”

Yours, you thought, while his lips trailed lower, over the harsh bob of your throat and past the cotton bunched across your chest — your shirt pulled as high as it would go, no patience to take it off you. San’s lips brushed a straight line down your naval, his hands giving your breast the attention they didn’t, too focused on their end goal. Gentle squeezes and the delicate brush of his thumbs over perked-up nipples, your breath stuttered, abdomen rising and falling unrhythmically under San’s touch. He dug his nose into the soft skin under your bellybutton, just shy of your sweatpants’ band, and looked up at you through his eyelashes.

Your heart jumped, watching as he adjusted, dragging your bottoms and panties down with him as he laid himself flat onto his stomach between your legs. Your chest flushed as he took in your exposed core, “San, you don’t have to—"

“Fuck, angel, I want to,” he shut you down, nuzzling into the crook where your thigh and pelvis met, “I want you so bad.”

San’s hips mirrored yours, rolling upwards to meet his waiting mouth while his relentlessly humped the mattress below him. Ecstasy — your sweet taste on his tongue, dripping down and coating his chin as he hungrily charged in for more. He allowed you the freedom to take what you wanted, and though your movements only grew more desperate, it still wasn’t enough. A toned arm wrapped around your hips to still their frenzied ruts, legs thrown over his shoulders squeezing his head between them and your cunt spitting hot streams of arousal mere millimetres from his face. San could’ve come untouched.

Leaning in, he licked a stripe from your clenching hole to your clit, taking it between his lips and running his tongue over the sensitive bud while you spasmed under him, the arm around your hips keeping your lower half still. Two fingers breached your weeping rim, still pliable from when he’d had you in the morning, yet the stretch was present nonetheless, arching your back and digging your hips into the sheets to drag him deeper inside.

“So desperate f’me,” he mumbled against your clit, peeking his tongue out to place kitten licks on and around it, “so sensitive, my pretty girl.”

Feline eyes flitted upwards to peer at you, lust and want burning behind his irises, yet his gaze was soft. As though you’d painted the changing hues cast by a setting sun outside the window to your right, hand-mixing the blend of blues and magenta to brush over the starry sky. He climbed up your body, leaving a trail of wetness where kisses trailed his ascend. His lips covered your parted ones, inhaling the soft breaths of pleasure you released as his fingers continued pumping into your cunt, curled just right to render you pliable and thoughtless under him, too lost in his touch to recognise your own taste on your tongue.

“Close,” you whispered against his lips, the tremor of your thighs around him enough proof.

“Good.”

You bucked up into San’s touch, clit running against his palm with the motion and driving you straight into an orgasm — head thrown back allowing him to tuck his own into your neck, the vibration of your moans felt against his cheek. Locked in a state of bliss, eyes shut and back arched, you floated within the high San had so generously granted you. The fingers sheathed deep within you slipped out to dance over your sensitive bud, hips jerking once, twice before dropping a hand to wrap around San’s wrist, halting the movement.

He backed away, straightening up to throw your shirt off and across the room. His eyes lowered back to your form, bare chest rising and falling and knees bent inwards as you recovered, eyes dazed as you stared up at him. Digging his tongue into the corner of his mouth, he relished the remnants of your slick coating his lips and their surroundings, aching to bury himself between your shivering thighs once again. Instead, he lowered himself over your bare frame, meeting your waiting lips and inhaling sharply through his nose, groaning at the mind-numbing lines your nails drew down his spine before wrapping your arms around his narrow waist, tugging him closer until the cotton of his boxers met your core.

Palms cupping your cheeks, San pressed harsh kisses into the heated skin of your face, over your nose and eyelids before returning to your mouth, tongue running over your bottom lip as he dragged his aching, clothed cock over your mound. Back and forth, throaty moans exhaled over your face, feline eyes fluttering shut as the feeling of you finally washed over him.

He bumped your foreheads together, eyes still closed, “ready for me?”

Please say you’re ready for me, his tone pleaded.

You nodded, but San interrupted before you could voice your consent, “I’ll fuck you so good, baby. Will you let me do that?”

A lumped formed itself in your throat, arousal gushing out of you to seep into the material separating you from him. San was relentless, the heat of you overwhelming enough to keep him still, and yet his eyes refused to open. Refused to see how your features contorted to raw lust, want, need.

“Let me give you all I have, my darling. All for you—“

San’s eyes snapped open when your hand met his mouth, vision filled with you. His woman. Now rolling her hips against him, eyes glassy and wanting, swallowing heavily between airy moans, “please, please, stop talking and just fuck me. “

His boxers reached mid-thigh before his impatience took over, your legs flying to one side before he bent himself over your body with his leaking head at your entrance. The stretch of his girth was welcomed, a sigh leaving your lips when he’d breached your hole and slid himself between your clenching walls.

A chocked moan left San’s lips, “fuck, ‘m gonna come already.”

Finally sheathed within your heat, he readjusted your position, restless as he parted your thighs and threw them over his, leaning down to take you into his arms. Though you’d taken him earlier that day, San’s touch left your nerves burning, a pit of heat only growing in your stomach the more he neared you. Your eyes remained shut, muscles tense as the fullness slowly overwhelmed your senses.

“You gotta relax for me, love,” he muttered, trailing tender kisses over your temples and cheekbones, an arm wrapped around your waist while his free hand drew gentle circles over your hips with his thumb. “Good girl, there you go,” smiling as your eyes finally met his, relaxing in his hold. “It’s just me.”

It was just San.

The boiling heat within you simmered down to an encompassing warmth, soothing your nerves and leaving you wanting more once again. Your nails clawed at wide shoulders, chanting San’s name until the man’s composure cracked, the arm around your waist tightening its hold before driving his hips into yours. The drag of his cock nearly sent you into a state of madness, your hand flying to grip his forearm, only for him to slide it down to his own hand, locking fingers with you at your hip. 

“Breathe for me, my darling,” San spoke, as though he wasn’t fucking into you like he’d been starved of your touch, his own breathing erratic as he attempted to build up a rhythm amidst the pool of lust he’d found himself drowning in.

Pleasure seared through your body, vision blurring and skin scorching within the bubble of warmth San had surrounded you with. His grip on your hand grounded you, eyes scanning over his furrowed eyebrows to witness the silent battle he fought against his urges — he wanted to take, to seek pleasure within the hypnotic squeeze of your walls, to hold you against his chest and have you full of his love, until your pussy wept out what it could no longer hold.

San shivered atop of you. The roll of his name off your tongue drew him back to the present, a warm palm caressing the growing stubble near his jaw. “Where’d you go?”

The soft whisper cleared the tension wrinkling his forehead, his features relaxing under your touch and the relentless rutting dissolving into a languid grind. The storm within his head now dissipated, San looked down at the gleam coating your skin, reflecting the sun’s dying rays. He’d celebrated the start of the day with giggles and tender kisses as you rolled around in bed, and now, with the gradient of purples and pinks bidding farewell to the celebrations, San wanted nothing more but to spend the remaining hours of the day you were born revering your very being. A being who’d redefined beauty the first time his eyes had landed on her. How could he ever take from you?

He leaned down to peck the side of your mouth, “I’m right here.”

You ran a thumb over the high of San’s cheek, taking in the softening features before the head of his cock brushed over your sweet spot, inhaling a soft gasp as the shot of pleasure shocked you. San moved down to steal another kiss, grabbing the backs of your thighs to pull your pelvis closer to him, revelling in the hushed echo of your moans in the minimal space separating your faces, easing back into a steady rhythm.

“Always so good f’me,” San groaned, fucking his whole length into your clenching cunt before grinding against you, your clit trapped under the veined skin of his pelvis. He let go of one of your thighs to press the heel of his palm down on your lower belly, “taking me so well,” he planted a kiss against the ‘o’ of your lips, “my good girl.”

You were so close, and with San’s palm pressing against where his cock was buried within you, you couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut. Except now, the hand once teasing above your clit brushed its knuckles over the length of your jaw.

“Uh-uh...Don’t hide,” he tsked, caressing the area surrounding your eyes with the plush of his lips. Small pecks planted against the tensed skin until it eased, “look at me, my love, let me see you.”

The tenderness in his tone, the slight whine he’d attempted to conceal, it pried your eyelids open before you could resist the temptation. The sight of wide shoulders greeted you, a smile warmer than the dying sunset witnessing the hedonic show of love growing as San met your eyes once again.

“There you are,” you thought you’d heard relief in his voice, as though a minute separated from your gaze had torn his world apart, his hold on you growing tighter, and so had yours.

Desperate hands gripped at his shoulders and back, eyes pleading for him to give you more. Your lips formed an imperfect circle when the heavy presence filling you up retreated, pausing halfway before pushing back in to grind against your stretched hole. Though gentle, San fucked ferociously, starved and seeking more, cock dripping with your slick until a thick ring of cream formed against his base. Even as you clawed at his back and slobbered against the hand squeezing your jaw, eyes teary and thighs spasming with pleasure, San fucked into your pussy as thought he’d never have you again. The squelch of your arousal, the magnetic clench around his cock — thick and heavy, moulding your cunt to his shape — San was on the brink of hysteria.

“Need you to come,” he managed between deep ah’s, peppering wet kisses over your temples, squeezing the hand holding your jaw until your lips puckered. “Wanna give you all I have,” he inhaled a breathy moan you’d let out, harshly sealing his mouth over yours before pulling away to take in your dazed features, “wanna be good for you.”

“Want that, please—fuck,” you rolled your hips to meet his relentless thrusts, ankles locked at his lower back to guide him into your needy cunt. “Want it all.”

“You gotta come first, my love. Let me feel you,” his hand eased around your face, kisses gentle in their continued journey across your cheeks. “Come, and I’ll give it you, fuck it into you so good,” his fingers brushed over your hardened nipple in their decent, palm splaying out over your lower belly, “so deep you won’t need to worry about it spilling out.”

“Fuck, San, don’t stop—”

A shiver ran through your body, pleasure blurring your vision as it shot up your spine in scorching waves. San’s cock continued pumping into your pussy, a finger sneaking its way to your clit to tip you over the edge with unrhythmic flicks. You convulsed beneath him, back arching until your chests pressed flush, hips bucking simultaneously towards and away from his frenzied thrusts as whimpered praise rolled off his tongue, breathed out between sloppy kisses pressed to your glimmering skin. Moonlight danced off the sweat beading over his heaving chest, groans turned into desperate moans as he fucked into you, steady rhythm long gone now that his high was merely a breath away.

“San,” breathless, you reached out for him, “San,” cupping his face, moans blowing over the heated skin as you neared overstimulation. “Be good for me, San. Give it to me.”

A whole-body shudder rushed through him when the dizzying clench of your used cunt drove him over the edge. His thighs trembled against yours, pulsing cock shoved deep within you to spread a familiar warmth through your lower belly, hot cum fed into your womb as the limbs holding you against his body twitched with the force of his orgasm. San’s face in the crook of your neck, your arms wrapped around his sweat-clad back, drawing circles with your palm over the exerted muscle while he continued rutting into your wet hole, pearly beads of cum seeping out to sink into the sheets beneath you. It wasn’t until building pangs of pain blended with the pleasure that your hold on San tightened, a hand slipping down to his hip as a signal. Stilling yet remaining encased within your heat, San lifted his weight off you to find your eyes with his own — lidded, fond, enamoured.

The lips pecking at yours only graced you with their softness for a few moments, your taste lingering on his tongue, before strong arms dragged your limp form out of bed. You’d whined and held on to the warm — soiled — sheets, but the pout puckering your lips eased after your body sunk into the steaming bath he’d hurriedly prepared. The aroma of rose and lavender mingled in the vapour dancing around you, your back to San’s solid chest, those same, soft lips finding their way to your skin, tracing imaginary lines over the length of your neck and down to your shoulders.

You basked in the comfortable silence, sliding further down into the water and allowing your eyes to fall shut. You weren’t sure when you’d started disliking your birthday, when you grew to dread the one day in the year dedicated to you. You also weren’t sure when that changed, when you’d started looking forward to it again. Perhaps it was San and his insistence on bringing joy into your life. His smile, the way his gaze fell upon your form; it was enthralling. A past you would have wondered if love would ever find you, but you now knew that love came in the form of a wide-shouldered man. A hopeless romantic vowing to teach you the undefined meaning of devotion.

The tips of your fingers wrinkled from the bath, you crawled back in bed and tucked yourself into San’s chest as the remaining hours of the evening ticked by, relishing the warmth he surrounded you with and allowing the day’s fatigue to wash over you. There was no urgency, no dread, the reminiscent scent of baby powder and roses seeping into the fresh set of sheets you’d laid on. And as you conceded to slumber’s gentle tug on your eyelids, you recited your birthday wish as though it was a prayer, hoping the dimpled man accompanied you to dreamland, longing to meet his eyes again once the new day’s sun peeked its head past the horizon.

reblogs/feedback are very, very appreciated!! apply for my taglist here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[blackheart1454]

Sneak&Peak Stay with me forever (Yandere! Ray x Reader) Part 2

Hello everybody!

Here is an small sneak & peak of the second part of this one-shot!

If you want to read the complete version, check it out on my Ko-fi page! I hope to publish the second part soon!

[natasha-in-space]

On this fine evening, I can't stop thinking about how small Ray really is. His graceful and princely appearance is only enhanced by his delicate facial features, which are already apparent the first time you see him. You don't think or notice much of it at first. His clothes are doing a good job at concealing his frail form, after all. All you see is a pretty young man that takes your breath away with his unique clothing choices and his tender smile.

It isn't until your first walk out in the garden that you have time to truly take in his appearance fully. He is undeniably beautiful. His eyes are kind, albeit mysterious, and his smile makes it easy to relax and trust into his words as you talk. He truly looks like some noble prince ripped straight out of a fairytale when he's walking by your side in the garden. His petite features become only more apparent when you get a little cold, and he drapes his blazer over your shoulders without a second thought.

Ray is unwavering in his desire to be helpful to you. He's afraid of you finding him repulsive or ugly. But, when you are in trouble, be it you shivering in the chilly mountain air, or you tripping over a stray rock, he acts without even thinking. It's like an instinct he can't fight.

Depending on your size, his magenta blazer either fits you perfectly or is rather small on you. Once you get past the initial butterflies of having his flowery scent and warmth surround you, it becomes quite noticeable to you. And, not only that, but with the biggest layer gone from his frame, you get a good look at his rather slender figure up close. He looks wonderful, you don't have a single bad thought in your head of yours.

But... God, does he looks so frail

As the days go by, you become more and more aware of him and all the smaller details of his appearance. His hands are small and bony. His wrists are so thin, you could probably wrap your two fingers around them with no problem whatsoever. While his jawline is soft, his cheeks look somewhat hollow, especially in a dim lighting. Although he doesn't express it, he easily gets cold. Whenever your walks are particularly long, you always see him slightly shivering, his hands rubbing together in a way that is obviously not meant for you to see. One time, you accidentally tripped while on your walk through Magenta, and he moved to catch your fall, making you stumble straight into his chest, your hands automatically grasping at his waist to hold you steady.

He's... so thin under all those layers of fabric. It's impossible not to wonder whether or not he's potentially wearing so many layers on purpose. If he's perhaps embarrassed of his fragile frame. It makes your heart ache.

It's a conflicting feeling.

You are aware that he is not taking good care of himself. For some reason, nobody in this place attempts to persuade him to take a break or enjoy a warm and nutritious meal every once in a while. It makes you disheartened. You wish you could visit him whenever you wanted, to remind him to rest his head, and to prepare him delicious and fulfilling foods to keep his body healthy and energized. But... you can't. And it's one of the first alarm bells that tell you that this place is not good for him.

On the other hand, you don't want to perceive this aspect of him as strictly negative. Regardless of his weight, you still find him to be incredibly beautiful. You love how his hands fit so perfectly into your own, making you want to hold them to keep them warm at any chance you get.

You could look at his face for hours on end without getting tired. Studying and memorizing all the tiniest of details that make Ray who he is. His lips are thin and chapped, even though he tries to hide their poor state from you, but you don't mind in the slightest. You'd love nothing more than gently brush your lips against his own as you go back to your room: a wordless thank you for wonderful company. Or to carefully apply some moisturizing lip balm with your thumb and watch his eyes grow wide and his cheeks grow pink. His eyes are warm and tender as they look at you, even if they are brimmed by heavy dark rings signaling the lack of sleep on his part. It still makes you want to brush your thumbs under his eyes to try and soothe his tiredness. His lashes are rather long, and you can't help but swoon at that little detail about him.

Although his skin is pale and dry, you have a fondness for the faint traces of freckles scattered over his cheeks and nose. It makes you wonder what his face would look like, if he could spend all the time he wanted out in the sun, tending to his flowers. You would love to kiss every freckle that is visible. And you adore how lovely his cheeks look when they are filled with color, whenever you say something sweet or brush your hand against his own.

Ray's physique is slim and petite. If you try, you're confident that you could lift him into your arms. It makes you sad to think of him being malnourished, but it does not bring you disgust in any way. No, it makes you think of how your hands would fit perfectly if you rested them on his waist, bringing him closer into your warm embrace, to keep his safe and sound from all those worries buzzing in his head at all times. How you could probably sweep him into a playful waltz and dip him without any problem, bringing a starry eyed look to those minty eyes you loved so much. It's a fantasy you certainly would love to try out one day.

It's a peculiar ambivalence. All you are aware of is that Ray is truly beautiful to you. And that you want him to know that. And, once you do spill all of your deepest affections for this lovely man you have come to treasure so deeply, you will wipe the tears spilling from his eyes and pull him close to your chest.

Ray is perfect. And you want him to know that.

[wheeboo]

glowing | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which waking up with your husband in the mornings is still something you will never get used to. PAIRING. husband!choi seungcheol x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, suggestive undertones WARNINGS. vague mentions of sex, kissing, terms of endearment, cheol is shirtless sorry not sorry :') WORD COUNT. 1.02k

requested from anon: Congratulations on reaching 2k followers rania!! for the event I’d like to request a scoups 42 & 49 from the 1st list!! - #42: "You just have this glow about you." - #49: "Come back to bed."

notes: first fic of the event!! anon knew what they were doing selecting these prompts istg hehe i hope u all enjoy <3

join the 2k celebration!

The rays of the late morning cower over your eyelids, slowly but surely nudging you out of your slumber. Somehow, you manage to peek open one reluctant eye, a sliver at first, then wider as you take in the sight around you. The bedroom is bathed in a beautiful golden glow. Shadows of the trees outside dance playfully across the ceiling and walls. All of this is enough to coax the smallest of smiles on your face𑁋the first of many today, you think.

You attempt to move, but you don't get very far. And instead, your eyes trail over to the body right next to you, taking sight of your sleepy husband buried in deep within the sheets, an arm draped loosely over your body underneath the duvet. He's still shirtless. You notice from the way the morning light gently kisses the bare skin of his shoulders where the blanket has ridden down.

The room is quiet, except for the soft rhythm of Seungcheol's deep breathing and quiet snores, and it grants you all the opportunity to be able to admire how peaceful he looks right now. It gives you the urge to fall back to sleep as well, but honestly, you're really damn hungry, and someone needs to make breakfast, or brunch, or whatever time it is right now.

With a reluctant sigh, you carefully untangle yourself from the comfort of the covers and Seungcheol's warmth, the cool air of the room sending a shiver down your spine when you sit up in bed. You take a minute to stretch out the certain soreness to your limbs, a small tug at your lips when a remnant of the night before flashes through your mind, but you try to brush it off as you stand up to walk out of the bedroom.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The voice is deep and thick with sleep, and you freeze up just before reaching for the door. You turn to see Seungcheol propping himself up on one elbow, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips, peering at you with half-lidded, sleepy eyes. His hair falls across his forehead both messily and endearingly, and you feel a particular warmth bloom in your chest.

"I was just, uh..." You don't know why you suddenly feel so self-conscious under his gaze, even after he kissed, touched, and whispered praises against every inch of you last night. "...going to make some breakfast for us."

Seungcheol just chuckles, and you can't seem to tear your eyes away from the way the covers slip down a little more. "I'm not letting you get away so easily, you know."

"But Cheol𑁋"

"Come back to bed," he pleads calmly, simply, softly. "Please."

There's something about the way he's looking at you right now that makes your heart stammer in your chest. It's a look you know well. A look of fondness. A look that holds itself comfortably in the space between your ribs.

You wake up together literally every single day, but you don't know if you could ever get used to this overwhelming feeling of being adored. It's like being wrapped in a warm, secure, fuzzy blanket, yet it's not just around your body; it's around your heart too.

"Okay," You finally relent quietly, and you let out a hearty squeal the second you walk back to the bed and he tugs you by the hands to pull you back into bed, back into his arms. It feels like coming home, every time.

You find yourself on top of him when his lips meet yours in a soft, slow kiss that has those flutters erupting wildly in your stomach once again. You feel the way his hand comes to cradle the base of your neck to pull you closer as the kiss deepens ever so slightly.

Even when you pull away, he doesn't hesitate to litter a few small, appreciative kisses down to your neck and exposed collarbones, the low hums leaving his lips caressing over your skin so tenderly and affectionately. You sigh out his name again, and Seungcheol draws back to look at you.

He's staring at you again. Not that you don't mind, of course, but the heat growing in your face is practically impossible to ignore.

You let out a breathless exhale, biting down at your bottom lip sheepishly. "What?"

Seungcheol lets his eyes flicker over you once more, before a small smile spreads across his features. His hands trail down to plant themselves firmly at your waist, letting his thumbs gently tracing shapes at the skin there.

"You just have this glow about you," he points out. "It's ridiculously attractive."

You glance down at yourself for a second as if you're actually glowing, before back up at him even more shyly than before. "Stop it."

"I'm serious, sweetheart," Seungcheol just insists and leans in back close to your face, his words melting away the last of your defenses. "You're absolutely beautiful, and it's an honour to be able to tell you that every single morning for as long as I breathe. It's an honour to love you."

His words momentarily snap you back to all the times he's whispered those same words to you during the moments between the sheets, or in the light of day when you're out on a date or basking in the familiarity of staying home, and the world seems to brighten a little more each time.

And maybe, yes, it's just the sunlight shining on you that has you 'glowing', but that's not exactly the case in Seungcheol's eyes, and it's hard to put to words.

Everything about you𑁋from the tiniest hint of a lift to your lips, to the dilation and sparkle in your pupils, to just you and your presence altogether𑁋just seems to radiate across every corner and crevice of the room. And Seungcheol can feel it seep within his own bones and warm him from the inside out. It's a feeling he finds himself wanting to chase after every single day; just a feeling he finds only in you.

You're glowing because you're in love, to simply put.

I'm in love. You're in love.

This is love.

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[pasteidolons]

aphelion - hjs

pairing: archaeologist!hong jisoo x curator!reader genre: angst, smut, fluff, short story other characters: kim mingyu, xu minghao, choi seungcheol, park sooyoung, kang seulgi warnings: afab reader, alcohol use, cursing, smut (oral, p in v sex), people not able to talk out their feelings word count: 13.5k summary: the past catches up to you at an archeology exhibit in the italian town of pompeii. feelings trapped and unknown come to light when you end up face to face with someone you thought you’d never see again.

It’s not that the Italian sun is unfamiliar to you, you’d basked in its glow on a handful of occasions as you had traveled and worked in this country rich in both wine and history. The sun bearing down on you isn’t harsh, but it isn’t kind either, its soft rays acting to lull you into a dreamlike state of relaxation and wonder as it swallows the fluorescent lights of the airport as the sliding glass doors lead you outside and into its heat. Stone pines reaching towards the heavens, it is a strangely comforting feeling to see them looming above the cypress trees that adorn the landscape around the Naples airport. Maybe it’s you just thankful to be back on solid ground, the flight had been turbulent and the line at customs hellish. All you really want is a nap.

“Oh my god I can’t believe we made it,” hand finding the rim of a jet-black pair of Ray Bans, Park Sooyoung’s attention is drawn to the bright sky above, cloudless and blue as it reflects in the lenses of her glasses. “How long is the drive to the house?”

You and your friend had met up a few days earlier in order to travel together to an archeological conference in the historical hotspot of Pompeii. She, being an archivist in New York, and you, being one in London, had rarely seen each other since your grad school days and took this as an opportunity to convene with another friend, Mingyu, and play catch-up. It isn’t the most ideal of circumstances, since this is a work trip, but you’ll take what you can get in stride and hope for the best.

Papers folding and bending against each other as the pair of you stroll through the exit terminal, various cars and buses aligning the strip to both pick up and drop off passengers, you sigh, “Half an hour?”

The now meaningless plane tickets and visa information are now tucked away in a pocket of your bag, gone to the world until you’ll need it again to assess your travel information for reimbursement purposes. Flying on the company dime isn’t something you’re unwilling to do.  

From what your phone had told you and the various guides that had tried to help in the airport, you’re looking at a relatively short journey to the home you’ll be staying in. Your other hand holds the grip of your rolling suitcase as it trails behind you, clicking against the tile underfoot, “Although, Mingyu said that he could drive extra fast if we needed to get there sooner.”

The only way you can tell that your friend’s eyes had widened is from her eyebrows peeking out from the top of her sunglasses and her mouth left slightly agape at your statement, “No thanks. If it’s anything like it was back in New York, I’d prefer to live this weekend.”

Small laugh escaping you, you know she’s excited to see him, but she’d never admit as much. “He said he’d be under the Alitalia sign,” eyes scanning the cars but more importantly the faces of the drivers to try and determine a recognizable one among the masses.

“There he is!” Sooyoung’s voice, shrill and excited, calls out as she rushes over to a small red Fiat parked parallel between two large tour buses. A roll of your eyes at how obvious she’s being, it isn’t tooth rottingly sweet, but it is certainly something.

He’s leaning atop the small car’s hood when he hears the delighted call of your friend, eyes trailing upwards from the phone in his hand and a dimpled smile gracing his lips as he watches the two of you walking closer. “I was starting to think you took the wrong plane.” Phone slipped into his pocket, Mingyu pushes himself off the car and begins to walk towards you.

Sooyoung’s arms quickly wrap around his neck as she leaves you to catch her falling suitcase, a short ‘tch’-ing from your lips as she lets go of him and returns to her bag. “We got caught up in customs,” a step forward and you sling your arm around his neck in a quick hug before releasing him, “who knew July was prime tourist time?”

“The perfect reason to have a conference, huh?” He laughs, glancing towards Sooyoung’s and your luggage. “I’m not too sure all of this will fit in the trunk; someone might be stuck with it in the backseat.”

And that’s how you find yourself, head pressed up against the window as the rolling hills of the Italian countryside pass to your left, while a mountain of a collection of both Sooyoung and your baggage peeks into your periphery. Headphone in your right ear, you’d been listening to a podcast on your flight detailing different religions around the world and were continuing on listening to one detailing the festivities of the Roman holiday Saturnalia.

As you listen to how, while a merry tradition, it held underlying themes of human sacrifices and the benevolence/maleficence of the gods, you find yourself slowly nodding off as you press the side of your head against the glass of the window and close your eyes. Not before eyeing Mingyu looking over at Sooyoung with a smile on his face as her attention is rapt upon him. You’d made a bet with him when the three of you had first been acquainted as to just how long it would take him to ask her out. The way they look at each other is something you think only found in movies, it makes you yearn for an affection you don’t quite have in your life. Although you’d lost that bet, as they hadn’t so much as gone on a date, you can tell they’re just too chicken with one another to say anything.

The darkness of sleep quelled when Sooyoung quietly rouses you as she gently shakes your knee with her hand. She’s turned to look at you when your eyes crack open and the golden glow of the afternoon haloes her to make her look even more ethereal.

“Your forehead looks bruised,” a smile, more so caring than anything malevolent, on her lips as she knows how you’d barely slept the entire flight. “Mingyu said we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

A look out the window and you realize that the scenery has shifted significantly, becoming rockier as the sight of the mountain is now far more in view than it was when you’d fallen asleep.

“The house is on the southern end of Vesuvius, it’s actually pretty close to the ruins if you have time to visit while you’re here,” Mingyu notes, knowing how much Roman history had enthralled you in your earlier years of work.

“We’ve got a few days,” Sooyoung ponders as if she’d already planned out her free days at the conference, “I’m sure we can squeeze it in.”

Eventually the car winds its way through some narrow street at the base of the mountain and you come upon a small, rustic looking house. The walls are old, obviously not built in this century, but look well cared for. There is a small walkway leading around the side of the house and you wonder where it’ll take you, but most of your attention is focused on pulling your bags from Mingyu’s car.

“Your room’s the second door on the right after you go up the stairs,” Mingyu says as you make your way to the front door as he was now struggling with the weight of Sooyoung’s bags in his grasp.

After rolling your eyes at him you make your way inside, the dark wooden floors and pale beige walls greeting you rather plainly. There is something elegant about the simplicity, but your attention now lies on not losing your center of balance as you haul your bags up the narrow staircase. You follow his directions and move down the hallway and come to your room, bed made and the last glittering rays of sunlight peek in through the curtains on the singular window above the bed. It’s quaint and homely, something you hadn’t had for a very long time as you think to the dismal apartment you keep London.  

You descend the flight of stairs, thankful that you don’t have to tote any more luggage up from the car, and make your way into the kitchen. Perhaps you’d hoped to grab a glass of water, yet your actions halt when you see the figure of and older woman standing at the kitchen counter with several canvas bags in hand. She smiles and gives you a small wave while cheerily saying “Buona serata!”

Returning the gesture with a mumbled “Buona serata,” of your own, you skirt around the edge of the kitchen to grab a glass and pour yourself some water from a nearby pitcher.

“My landlord likes to come over every Friday to cook,” A voice from your right and you glance over and notice Mingyu standing beside you. “She says it’s because her family’s grown up now and she needs someone to care for.” A nod of your head as you watch the older woman unpack her canvas grocery bags, the contents full of things both familiar and foreign.

“Grazie mamma,” Mingyu smiles and walks forward, seeming to want to help his landlord in her cooking ventures. His helpful hands are eventually swatted away, her saying something rapid but you get the gist that she doesn’t need any aid.  

“What’s she making?” you ask as you catch sight of Sooyoung walk into the kitchen, almost as pale as a sheet as she makes way over to your side.

There’s a gentle tugging at your shirt as Mingyu questions his landlord. A glance to Sooyoung and she mouths ‘We need to talk’ before getting interrupted with Mingyu saying, “Chicken cacciatore with polenta, I think?” A buzz from his pocket and he looks at his phone, “My roommate’ll join us in a little while. He’s on his way back from a dig and shouldn’t be too long.”

Mingyu hadn’t mentioned his roommate too much, just said they’d met when their team was assembled to scour Site V in the ruins of Pompeii and they’d become fast friends. They’d been living with each other for almost a year now and you can't even recall the name even after Mingyu had probably mentioned it a handful of times when you’d talked over the phone.

“Sounds good,” you smile, tugging at your shirt becoming a little more forceful as the urgency in Sooyoung’s eyes is more prevalent. The landlord says something to Mingyu, and he answers with a nod and leaves the kitchen and heads into the living room. “What is it?” After a moment’s calm you turn to your friend, corners of your mouth turning downwards.

“I left my moisturizer at the hotel in Warsaw,” a gentle tugging again, pleading as she speaks once more, “Can I borrow yours?” The soft strums of a guitar and melancholy vocals of a woman emanating from the room Mingyu had left to go to, the landlord must’ve asked him to put on music.

“Is that what you were so weird about?” A gentle scoff leaving your lips as you nod, “Yeah, it’s in my-”

“I know!” She’s already bounding up the stairs and leaves you with the last of your sentence still in your throat.

“She hasn’t changed much, has she?” Mingyu asks as he reenters the kitchen. His gaze lingers on where Sooyoung once stood, a ghost of a smile noted by his dimples.

“Not one bit.” You note, “But you haven’t either, Mr. Kim. Your head is still stuck on Rome and on her.”

“She’s not-?”

“Dating anyone?” You interrupt at his worried tone, “No. Unless she’s got some hunk back in her lab.” A look of relief on his brow as you take a sip of water, “You know, you really should ask her out. She was excited to see you again.”

“It’s just,” a hum as he pauses to ruminate on his thoughts, “She’s all the way in New York and I’m here for who knows how long. It’d be difficult and I wouldn’t want to put that on a new relationship.”

“If you don’t think she’d pack her bags and move here you’d be lying to yourself,” A shake of your head as the sound of Sooyoung descending the staircase echoes around the small kitchen and brings your conversation to a stop. “It’s also Italy, for God’s sake.”

“I think your roommate’s here,” Sooyoung announces, stating that she’d seen a car pull into the already cozy driveway and turn its headlights off. Almost right as she finishes her sentence the sound of the front door opening catches everyone but the landlord’s attention, as she is too busy cooking and humming along to the music coming from the other room.

It’s funny how the memory of someone can stay so far gone in the depths of your subconscious that you can very well forget about them until they’re standing right in front of you. A fleeting glimpse into who and what you were before you’d blossomed into a more mature adulthood staring at you with eyes equally surprised as your own. A small ‘o’ shape of your mouth mirroring; the tousled hair, button down linen shirt and dust and dirt that clings to his khakis almost pulling you from the anchoring weight of the past. A small smile as he looks to Mingyu, the landlord and Sooyoung before hoisting a bottle of wine in the air, “I didn’t want to come in empty handed for our guests.”

“There he is,” Mingyu nods to the former, “This is my roommate Josh, we’re both partnered up on the same dig team.”

Jisoo. His name is Jisoo. “It’s-” you begin but falter almost immediately, unknowing if your friend is aware of the lingering history between both you and his roommate.

“Nice to meet you,” an interjection from Sooyoung as she nods towards Jisoo, eyes trailing down to the bottle in his hand. “Would you mind if we crack that open now? It’s been a long day.”

Dinner had gone and passed more jovial than you’d thought it would, despite the coldness emanating from Jisoo who sits at the opposite end of the table as you. Fingers fiddling with the fork of your dessert plate, you prod at the panacotta lying half eaten in front of you as your appetite had been sated the moment Jisoo said that it was his favorite dessert.

Maybe he notices the lull in conversation, the sound of crickets chirping rising over the once chattering group, “So where did you and Josh meet?” Attention more turned towards Sooyoung rather than to yourself. Maybe it’s a slight to you but you don’t blame him, it only furthered the aching feeling in your chest as you bring your glass to your lips and drink the fiery vintage.

“We were all three interning together in New York our- what- senior year of college?” Sooyoung muses, lifting her wine glass to her mouth and taking a small sip, twirling the remnants of the local Lacryma Christi wine to aerate it further once she’d finished drinking. “Right?” She looks to Mingyu, who’s toying with another bottle of wine behind the three of you. The small bottle opener in hand, he only replies with a simple ‘Yeah,’ before furrowing his brow and setting back to try and uncork the stubborn bottle.

Elbows on the table as a flushed Jisoo leans in, “Where did you go to school?” He had always held his alcohol well, had something changed since you’d last seen him? Jisoo seems far more tipsy than he should be after two glasses of wine.

“It’s a small all girl’s school you’ve probably never heard of,” A wave of her hand as she sets her glass down onto the wooden table. “What about you?”

“Hamilton,” A glance to you, brief and painful, before he turns back to your friend, “But I also studied abroad in Korea for a little bit too.”

“Ah, you went there too. And you also studied abroad, right?” Sooyoung looks to you, brow raised in question as her index finger circles the top of her glass, inviting a response that you never wanted to give. “Did you know each other?”

“We knew of each other.” The sound of Mingyu pulling the cork from its home resonates around the small kitchen as you speak.

It was a Tuesday night, you’d just started watching Derry Girls and the cooling cycle of your AC unit had just kicked up with its trilling noise when a text on your phone buzzed, the words of the infamous “You up?” blaring across the screen in bold black letters. It was 10:47PM and you had a nine am the next day, you really shouldn’t respond. You could say no, say that you’re tired and want to go to bed instead of fucking your friend for the umpteenth time when he was trying to get over some girl he’d been chasing after on and off for your whole college career. But you didn’t, you wouldn’t ever because there’s that undeniable loneliness you had where human affection is a sought-after substance when you refused to forge the intimate bonds that held a man close to a woman. Or a man to a man. Or woman to a woman. Or to whoever preferred whoever. You aren’t one to judge.

Leaving the text for a moment, maybe two, to ruminate and stew in the Atmos of the unknown you responded saying “Only if you’ve got a bottle with my name on it.” Phone discarded onto your sofa you didn’t move again until he replied that he’d be over soon.

And with that you were off to the races to tidy up, clean bits and wipe of counters and take out the trash as you know he’s either on his way to the store, or already there, to pick up the treasured Cabernet Sauvignon that tasted of regret and unspoken vows the next morning. It was a solemn ritual; you’d drink as he lamented over the girl (half a bottle each), listen to music that both of you liked, he’d tell you the same story of him and his brother getting trapped in a tree as a child (because he obviously hadn’t ever told you this tale before), some film he’d watched once and couldn’t remember playing as the backdrop, and at some point he’d start playing with your hair. Long and slender digits patting, running through and twirling the strands that fell around your face, you weren’t even sure if this was done subconsciously or not. Not that you really cared anyway. Fingertips gently grazing your shoulder in the glow of the tv, then your cheek, then your lips as his hand slipped under your chin and your mouths clash together in a wanton want for something constant. And then you’d have to excuse yourself to the bathroom to make sure you looked a presentable mess in your drunkenness.

Cheeks warmed with the wine trapped inside of you, maybe you’d had a little too much as your hand reached out to steady yourself on the counter as your other moved to brush a few strands of hair from your forehead. Fingers danced over your lips as the fiery feeling of his atop yours hadn’t quite left your system yet, you would laugh at yourself tomorrow for relishing in it but the you of now would soak up this limelight as this was the first time this semester this had happened. You had begun to wonder if it would again before his text tonight. Another look at your phone and it was nearing 1:30, a drowsiness in your system accompanied by the lull of the red had you stifling a yawn behind a hand raised to your mouth.

He’s in your bed by the time you exit the bathroom. Eyes shut and slow breathing as the woes of the world were only that of it spinning greatly on its axis. Conceptual in nature you never sought to feel anything more than just a friendship with him. Sure, it was a friendship that was deeply ingrained in fucking each other to take your mind off whatever was troubling you at the time, but a friendship, nonetheless. 

You stood in the glow of the streetlights bleeding in from the outside, a majority of his clothes had been strewn onto the floor, and yours were quick to follow. You were trying to get the damned hooks of your bra to unlatch when you heard him shift behind you.

“Allow me,” a smirk danced along his lips as he noticed you struggling with unlatching your bra. You relented as the palm of his hand landed on your lower back, sliding up leaving behind a trail of warmth. In a simple motion, he was able to unhook it with only one hand.

A short laugh as you shrugged off the garment, throwing it to the littered pile of clothes on the ground. You turned and found his lips, “Love that party trick of yours,” you murmured between kisses. With your right hand you gently pushed him backwards towards the bed. 

As the backs of his knees hit the mattress, he fell back, but not before reaching to grab your hands to bring you down with him. 

After a few more pecks with your chest flush against his, you sat up, straddling his lap as he chased your lips until he couldn't reach them anymore. Instead, his hands that were entwined with yours released their hold and traveled up your sides, finding anchor on your hips. It was then he began to gently guide your hips to move, you couldn’t  help the moan that fell from your lips or the way your hips instinctively rolled over his painfully hard cock.

“I can feel you through the fabric,” he sighed out breathing heavily, he glanced down to where your bodies almost met, the wetness of your core seeping through the layers of cloth. “Is that all for me?”

“Only for you,” you murmured, knowing it would spur him further. “Just touch me more.”

With a newfound sense of purpose, he did. His right hand raised, his thumb brushed over your breast, his index finger moved as well to play with your hardening nipple. You found yourself shifted to the flat of your back when you let out a moan and he moved himself to hover over you, looking down at his hand gliding over your skin, any feeling of shyness quickly left him. His lips met yours as his hand slid back down your side, the other being used to leverage himself over you. 

Something’s said, you’re not sure exactly what as it’s a mixture of words you do and do not understand. Jisoo’s lips lower, to your collarbone, through the valley of your breasts and down to your stomach. His hands find the sides of your hips, his own feet falling to the floor as he drags you to the side of the bed so that your knees and calves dangle over the edge. Fingers tangled through his dark and once coiffed locks as he lowered himself to your core, you couldn’t help but to try and quell your pounding heart. 

“Help me with this part?” He asked quietly, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. You obliged willingly, raising your hips to let him slide off the cloth with ease. “Perfect,” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

His lips captured your bud and your back arched at the contact, his hands moved away from your breasts and down your sides to the insides of your thighs, gently pushing them apart. 

His fingers run along your slick, gathering it as he releases your clit with a small pop before he pushes his index finger inside of you. After a moment, the word, “Move,” left you more enthusiastically than you anticipated. Yet he met your request with fervor, pumping his digit into you while you curled your fingers in his hair, gently tugging at his locks.

“Fuck–!” voice breathy as it leaves you, another finger, his middle, added to your core causing you to relinquish your hold on him to find your hands tangling atop the duvet.  

“Do you feel good?” He questions almost teasingly, knowing the answer as you let out a string of words ebbing on profanity and proclamations of your feelings. 

“I think– you know the answer–!” You tried to joke before you cried out as he pistons his hand faster, you feel yourself on the precipice of release. It's when he reattached his lips to you clit did the band snap within you and you cried out, your limbs had begun to tremble when he continued his movements, riding out your orgasm until you lightly nudged him away with your knee and he pulled his fingers from you. 

“Come here,” you murmur as you sat up, holding your hands out to him as he rose from the edge of the bed to stand between your open legs. Your hands found the sides of his face and pulled him in for a kiss, the taste of you and him intermingling in your mouths. One of your hands slipped away from his face, traveling down his bare chest and towards the hem of his boxers.

“We don’t,” he stopped, lips parting from yours as he searched your eyes, his hand finding yours, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you nodded, head tilting slightly as if to gauge him, “do you not want to?”

“God, fuck,” he sighed under his breath as you caught your lower lip between your teeth, “Of course I do. Do you have a condom?”

“In the side drawer,” you said breathily as he stepped away, quickly fumbled in the dark for a moment before he procured the condom.

And with that he pressed his lips to yours once more and your back hit the mattress. Your teeth clicked together clumsily, but it was forgotten with a small laugh as your fingers traced the elastic of his waistband. He hovered over you, forearm holding up his upper body as he trapped yours within the confines of his knees, his free hand moved to help yours pull down his underwear.

The room was filled with tangible electricity, a palpable anticipation that hung heavy in the air as you both had shed the last remnants of clothing. Your skin tingled with anticipation, every touch sending shivers down your spine.

His lips found yours once more, urgent and hungry, as if trying to convey all the longing and desire that he’d been harboring towards that other girl for months. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours.

It’s then he pulled back, tearing open the condom’s wrapper and quickly rolling it onto himself. You watched his eager moments in amusement as you sat up, fascinated by how much he was willing to fuck. When he caught you looking, a deeper rooted desire overtook him and he came back to meet you at the side of your bed. Your hand went out to stroke him, but he caught your wrist, gently pushing it back onto the bed. 

“Mine,” His breath hot on your skin as he leaned in, pushing you back onto your back, hive raspy tone sent chills shooting from your head to your toes as he aligned himself with you. The breath had been pulled from your throat, when he pushed himself inside. “Please say you’re mine.”

A strangled sort of laugh escaped you, unknowing why he was acting in such a possessive manner. “Just for tonight.”

As your bodies melded together, skin against skin, you lost yourself in the sensation of him, in the overwhelming intensity of your connection. Each touch, each kiss, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you both.

When you looked at him, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his hair tousled from your hands running through it, your heart swelled with a feeling as if it were trying to crawl up your throat. The scent of pine and a shiver snaked itself up your spine. He removed his lips from the side of yours, looking down at you like a beholden idol, his hips snapped into you as he'd begun to chase his own high. 

There was desperation in his kiss, and you hoped it wasn’t stemming from where you believed it to be. Your eyes screwed shut in abject ecstasy as your peak toppled you off of a high cliff, and it didn’t seem like Jisoo was too far off behind you.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, pulling out of you. His fingers quickly moved around the condom and he pulled it off before wrapping his hand around himself. He stroked himself a few more times before you felt stripes of heat spurt onto your abdomen.

He stood for a moment, regaining his composure before he excused himself for a moment, returning from the bathroom with a damp washcloth and gently wiped it across your stomach to remove the essence of him. Jisoo then tossed the rag onto the floor and fell next to you on the mattress before wrapping his arm around you. His breath was warm against the back of your neck as your chest still heaved with the sighs and exhalations of pleasure. 

The shock that came oh so prevalently to your features when he uttered the cursed “I think I love you” instead of the usual transition into a deep slumber.

Try as you might to steal him away from his yearnings and into the beguiling sin that engrossed you like a funeral shroud you shook your head with a, “No you don’t,” as you raised his hand to your lips and placed a chaste kiss onto his knuckles. A laugh as you were drunk on the spirit and freed inhibitions accompanying the acidic red scouring your veins. “You’re in love with the possibility of something loving and fucking you back.” In truth you weren’t sure if that’s it but repeating it to yourself and vocalizing it sure sounded better than facing your own crippling anxiety of it all.

Tensing under you as the brush of your lips atop his skin left him more flushed than not, “I just confessed to you and you’re telling me that I don’t love you?”

“I am,” a nod of your head as you turned atop the mattress to face him, his breath hot against your face while a confused expression settled into his. “You are far too drunk to be saying things like that and I’m far too drunk to want to accept them,” you reached your hand to caress his cheek before you felt his reach up to gently grasp around your wrist to pull it away.

“Are you saying you’ll love me when you’re sober?” The sensation of rough stubble beginning to emerge from his face still lingering on your fingertips, you closed your hand to staunch the feeling.

Scoff from your lips piercing him like an arrow, “I’ll love you when you start loving yourself over that girl.” The orange slants of lights bleeding in through your blinds from the street below your apartment was the only thing that illuminated the two of you. His hand fell away from your wrist and your hand dropped down onto the small space of mattress that distanced your body from his. “You’re too stupidly handsome to not love yourself.”

Quizzical smile playing on his lips as you felt his eyes peering into yours. “You think I’m handsome?”

“I’m pretty sure ninety nine percent of the population thinks you’re handsome, Jisoo.” A roll of your eyes as you turned onto your back, looking up at your pale ceiling, orange glow still emanating from outside.

“What about the other one percent?” As you moved to place your hand atop your stomach he asked, also moving to look up at the ceiling with you.

He was only the narcissist you knew him to be when you were alone with him. Joshua may have loved his physical appearance but was always critiquing his personality, his interactions with others. “Oh, they actually do think you’re handsome, they just haven’t realized it yet.”

“Can we just stay like this?” Breaths intermingled with the cool air of your apartment as he moved to take your hand in his, warmth emanated from his palms and danced atop his fingertips. “I don’t really feel like-”

“Yeah, of course,” an impending sense of dread ran cold through your once warm veins, an involuntary shiver coursed through you causing him to pull you in closer as he thought that you were just cold. You weren’t, just knew of what’s to come tomorrow.  

He was gone by the time you woke up, morning light shining in as you had to hold a hand up to block it from permeating through your eyelids any longer. When your hand ran atop the cool mattress where he was supposed to be, a pang reverberated around your rib cage as you realized he must’ve been absent for some time. Normally after one of these nights the two of you would head to some diner that still sold breakfast around noon while you frantically typed away at an email telling your professor that you’d gotten food poisoning the night before and couldn’t make it to class. Now you were alone and void of the sense of urgency that skipping class tended to put on you.

As if he had impeccable timing, your phone buzzed on your nightstand, a notification detailing that you had several missed calls and unread texts. A sigh from your lips as you reached out to grab the device, swiping it unlocked and reading the last message he’d sent, “Blue @ 2?”

He’d already been seated when you walked into the dingy diner on the outskirts of your college town. Gaudy retro blue interior, a mockup of Elvis at the entrance and the small jukeboxes adorning each table just reminding you of all the times you’d sat in here, hungover and tired. Now you were hungover, tired and anxious. Jisoo was picking at a tray of fries as you slid into the booth, looking up to you as you sat, the vinyl squeaking as you moved atop it, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

There was a gritty, off sounding version of Israel Kamakawiwo'ole’s ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ coming from the little jukebox to your right and you wondered if Joshua had fished out the quarters from his mess of a wallet for it to be playing. He knew it was one of your favorites. “I’m working on my stealth, might just drop out of college and become an international spy at this rate,” You smiled as you shrugged off your jacket.

A nervous smile on his lips, you hadn’t seen that since your freshman year and the whole debacle with that girl had started. Something was on his mind and you knew it would never come out unless you prodded first. Smile on your face faltered as an impending feeling of dread began to surge through you, “What is it?”

“What?” Eyes widening as he shoved a fry in his mouth, “Do I have something on my face?”

“Why did you ask me to come out when I know you’ve got a history or business class right now?”

“A Comprehensive Study of Italian Literature throughout the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries.” Another fry eaten, he spoke with his mouth full, “It’s not really something I want to sit through every day. And I wanted to see you.”

“For?”

“Do I have to have a reason for wanting to?”

“You typically do.” A shrug of your shoulders as most of the reasons had been like the incident that spurred last night’s escapade, or to run over notes for an upcoming exam. And that one time where he’d asked you to look after a cat he’d been trying to smuggle into his no pets allowed apartment complex.

Silence as the cogs turn in his head, you can almost see them as he tries to vocalize his thoughts. “It’s about last night.” His hand rests atop the red basket that housed the last of the fries. He lets out a sigh, removing his hand and brushing it atop a nearby napkin, “I mean what I said.”

“Jisoo…” name faltered on your lips as you knew what was to come, “You know I’m not looking for that right now. And what about that girl? Isn’t that why you came over in the first place?” the dynamic shifting between the two of you with every word uttered out of this conversation. It was uncomfortable as you felt yourself pulling away when all he wanted to do is try to get closer to you. An anxiety running through you as your fingers clenched into fists atop your pant leg.

“That's why I came over. I realized I was looking for someone to replace you when all I ever needed was here.” His voice was quiet, calm and an air of shakiness interlaced through it.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“I’m not really sure.” Humming as he took a glance out the window, gray clouds sweeping over the once verdant blue of the evening. “Are you really never going to give me a chance?” He still wasn’t looking at you, you weren't sure if he was able to.

It’s blurry now, the rest of that afternoon. It had begun to rain while the two of you sat in that diner, precipitation pelting the sides of the restaurant as you both made a haste escape to your apartment. Clothes littered on the floor as you somehow make your way into your bedroom, kisses both chaste and longing grazing your skin as your hands run through his now messy locks.

You hated how tender Jisoo was, how bittersweet his lips felt on yours as his hands caressed your sides as he pressed himself on top of you. Hated how he melted under you and careened for your touch even if you’d only lifted your hand from his seconds prior. There was a want inside of him that you could feel rearing to break free, but he was holding himself back, he always held himself back. He craved an affection you were unwilling to give, too reluctant to lose yourself to the possibility of him.

This wasn’t a goodbye; it was a plead for you to stay. With your sheets wrapped around you and strayaways of your hair clinging to the sides of your face you tell him to leave, you’re tired and need to get some sleep at some point because you've already missed too many classes. It pained and tormented you to push him away, he was a good friend, a good lover but you never once had the thought that he could hold that guarded place in your heart that had been untouched by anyone. You were afraid that you loved him back.

You hadn’t said a word to him since that afternoon. Nothing from him ever came to you either, the ties had been cut at that meeting and no trying to forage the relationship anew ever came. The two of you grew apart and became separate people, you never looked after him and you had no idea if he looked after you. There was some comfort you gave yourself in never seeking him out, you didn’t have to own up to the fact he existed anymore and that the assholishness of your years prior could remain a secret. But now faced with that undeniable presence of him back in your life you feel as if the pillars holding you aloft are beginning to crumble.

“With the earth is in aphelion we tend to lose ourselves, finding that even though it may be summer and memories of an us no longer presents itself, we question the now and want to return to the past. It’s a captivating notion, isn’t it? Take this time to reflect on yourself and the choices you’ve made to understand who you are now and who you were then.”

Roll of your eyes as the host begins to finish up her spiel of moving forward as it feels all too relating to your current situation. Hand moving to pause the podcast as you hear a gentle knock on your door. You’d finally gotten the back of your dress zippered up on your own after what felt like an eternity of it not budging those last few centimeters. “Come in,” you call out and Sooyoung opens the door right away.

“Are you almost ready?” She asks, looking stunning as ever in a simple sparkly nude dress, the v of the neck gives only little to imagine but she pulls it off with more grace than anyone else you could picture. “Mingyu’s getting the car ready so we should all head out soon.”

“Yeah,” you nod, glancing to the small standing mirror atop the wooden dresser. It wasn’t optimal lighting to pretty yourself up in but you’d dealt with worse.

“What’s aphelion?” She asks as she reaches for the door handle, eyes looking to the now black screen of your phone. “The lady on your podcast was talking about it.”

“It’s the furthest point away the earth is from the sun. We’re actually in it right now.” Musing as you move to toss your phone onto the bed, beside your purse that you’ll be using that night.

“Isn’t it summer though? If we’re at the furthest point, shouldn’t it be winter?”

A shrug of your shoulders as she opens the door, realizing your answer could probably be better recurved via a google search. “I couldn’t tell you,”  muttering as you lean over to collect the pair of shoes strewn at your feet.

Sooyoung leaves as you begin to slide your heel into your shoe, once put on you stand for a moment on wobbly legs as you hate the way these events make you dress up for things. You feel like a newborn foal as you tiptoe your way to your purse and then to the door. Cracked open it lets a sliver of light in, then a shadow passing over it as someone walks by. “Sooyoung, did you-” thinking it was your friend returning to her room for something you open the door and look down the hall, only to find the widened eyes of Hong Joshua looking back. The two of you stare at each other, vocalizing internally a conversation that had yet to occur or maybe that had in your dreams. “I thought you were-,” a shake of your head as you wave it off. “I’m going now.”

“After you,” a hand motioning to the stairwell as you brush past him, palpitations thrumming so loudly inside your chest you’re surprised he can’t hear them.

When you get to the car you see that Sooyoung’s already in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone as Mingyu messes with the radio of the car in a feeble attempt to get it working again. You slide into the backseat, your stomach dropping when the other backseat door opens and Jisoo gets in beside you. Never in your life had you wanted to be in a bigger car than you were in now.

It was an uncomfortable ride to the welcome party, Mingyu and Sooyoung made casual small talk whereas the back two seats lay dead silent as you try to cave in on yourself. Jisoo is everything you remember and everything you curse, the scent of his favored Jo Malone cologne soaking into you as you sit in the backseat has you reeling. You don’t even know they made the Amber and Lavender scent anymore. Nor were you aware that he could dress this nicely, he’d only followed the preppy boy trend back in college and at his best you think you could recall him wearing some Ralph Lauren polo to an outdoor event. That was the Jisoo you’d known. Not the dolled-up enigma that sits next to you, his knee lightly knocking into yours as the car moves over the bumpy streets.

You’re not sure which deity to thank as the Hotel Diane is only a twenty-minute venture from the house. Before anyone has the ability to assist you getting out of the car as you roll up to the entrance of the venue, you unbuckle your seatbelt and make a speedy retreat into the bowels of the conference. You can hear Sooyoung calling out after you as you race into the plethora of archeologists, researchers and everything in between. A sigh of relief as you find the restroom, locking yourself into one of the stalls as you try and sate your rapidly beating heart.

It was supposed to have stopped a long time ago, the regret and anguish over him. Yet the flame ignited once more when his eyes had met yours yesterday evening. You barely slept that night and you were plagued by memories the entirety of today. Hong Jisoo is a plague that you don’t want to give up. Or maybe the memory of him is, you know nothing of what became of him after the triste in college had ended and you had gone your separate ways.

“You look like shit,” Sooyoung’s voice hitting you almost as soon as you exit the bathroom, “Not your makeup or anything, that’s fine.” A hand raised as if sensing your aura or to generalize the vibe you were giving off, “Your expression though. What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” You blink, trying to mask the anxiety riddled through you with a confused façade. “Nothing, I just really had to use the restroom.”

“And it had nothing to do with the handsome man sitting in the backseat with you?” She poses as the two of you begin to walk through the atrium, sliding past other partygoers. As you near a catering staff member holding a tray of drinks, Sooyoung reaches out and plucks one off of the tray and hands it to you before getting one for herself, “You’ve been acting weird since last night.”

A sigh as you bring the glass to your lips, drinking as you stride forward into the main gala, a large room adjacent to the main atrium. “Seeing him just reminded me of school, is all,” It isn’t a complete lie, just not the wholehearted truth either.

It seems as if everyone’s begun to be ushered into the main hall, the lights of the stage in the back of the room brightening as an older man walks up, a handful of notecards in his grasp. Doors shut behind the last of the stragglers, the gravelly voice of the man begins to welcome everyone to the annual conference and how it was such a treat to hold it in a historic place. The lights of the room dimming to draw attention towards the stage, you find yourself lost in drink as he speaks, eyes wandering the crowds as you catch Joshua looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite put a name to. It only made you drink more, swapping out your now empty glass with a new one from a server’s tray nearby.

The speech drags on for another five minutes or so, detailing the events of the weekend. The words tuned out as you feel the burn of alcohol down your esophagus. When the speech is done and the lights brought up, you and Sooyoung make a round around the room, chatting with several acquaintances from conferences and events prior and greeting any new faces you come across.  

“How’s your new exhibition in London going?” A voice asks as you turn to your left, “I hope everything got there safely?”

Turning to now greet a familiar face, “Of course it did, Seungcheol. No thanks to you, of course.” Mischievous smile flashing as Sooyoung leaves your side to wander over to a group of Mingyu’s cohorts. “I’m surprised you lent us your exhibit on such short notice, it’s only been up for a few days but luckily enough I was there to see the inaugural showcase. It’s absolutely phenomenal, by the way.”

Smile now coating his features, “I’m glad it worked out. And anything for an old friend.” He takes a sip out of the glass in his hand, glancing around the room for a moment as if to observe the atmosphere. “It seems busier than usual, doesn’t it? I hear it’s largely in part due to the handful of new teams they’ve set up in the area.”

“Well, typically these are held in stuffy new cities, can’t blame the attendance for being higher here.” You note as you look over the faces of the other patrons. “St. Louis wasn’t all that exciting, was it?”

“Learning about Cahokia was, though.” He notes with a raised brow and turns his attention back to you. “I saw you come in with Mingyu, do you know him?”

“We interned at the Smithsonian and went to grad school together; do you know him?”

“I met him the other day when a few of us early birds were able to get a behind the scenes tour of sector V. I actually know his teammate Joshua, I saw you come in before them so I’m assuming you know him as well?” Seungcheol questions as he scans the crowd for the sight of the taller looming above everyone else.

“Only a little bit,” You lie as the varnish of perceived reality begins to chip away, bit by bit, “I’d say I’m better acquainted with Mingyu really.”

“Ah, that’s a shame. He’s a bright kid, if you ever get to know him, was a great help when our junior archivist was out of town for a while…” You hope he can’t see the painted smile on your face as he speaks again, “Have you met any of their teammates? It really is an eclectic bunch.”

“I haven’t actually, I think Sooyoung’s talking with them now.” Peering back to see Sooyoung laughing at something Mingyu was saying, “I should probably introduce myself.”

“I’ll leave you to it then, I’ve got an archivist and an architect to track down somewhere around here. It was nice seeing you again,” He gives you a short nod before heading off into the masses.

“There’s the woman of the hour,” Sooyoung’s hand that isn’t occupied with a wine glass slips around your waist as you approach the group. “I was just telling them how you managed to snag the Gohyang exhibit, not that they really care. They’re all archaeology nuts.”

“I take it I don’t need to introduce myself then?” Shooting Sooyoung a short glare before looking to the handful of people surrounding you, “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Nice to meet you too,” A voice speaks up and a hand raises to meet yours as Sooyoung’s grip around your waist is lost. “I’m Minghao, the site supervisor, kind of in charge of these guys.”

Another voice beside him, “Don’t let him act all high and mighty about it, it’s just because our real team leader broke his wrist skiing and is on leave for the next two weeks.” Different hand to shake, “I’m Seulgi. I work in forensics.”

“And you already know Mingyu and Joshua, they’re pretty much our main diggers,” Minghao notes and looks to Mingyu, “Where is he by the way? Didn’t you two come together?”

Humming as Mingyu’s eyes scan the crowd, “I’m not sure, he might’ve ducked out to get some fresh air. You know how he gets.” Unable to find him, his attention returns to the group, glancing over at you, “Was he always this weird at events?”

“Do you know him?” Seulgi's voice interrupts before you’re able to speak, pulling your attention away from your friend and to her.

“I-”

Once again interrupted, this time by Sooyoung. “She actually went to school with him. Small world, isn’t it?”

“Not so much in this field,” Minghao muses, something wistful in his tone, “We all come across each other at some point.”

“You’re still not going to get over that Russian tomb raider, are you?” Seulgi sighs, attention focusing back to you. “But was he? He’s always happy at the dig site but whenever we come to these sorts of events, he gets all quiet and taciturn. It’s like he’s looking for someone who’s never really going to show up.”

“That’s uh- Oddly specific.” Uttering under your breath, uncomfortable at the turn of events and barrage of questions being thrown at you. “And I really didn’t know him that well.”

“Ah come on,” Sooyoung’s voice slurs ever so slightly as you take a sip of your drink. “I can hardly believe you went to a small school in the middle of BFE, go on a study abroad trip with him and didn’t talk to him.”

Pressure building as if you’re a kettle with nowhere to expunge the steam rapidly rising inside of you. You’re a trapped animal, cornered in a room of vicious predators.

A nervous, shaky laugh escapes you, and before you can stop yourself, the words start tumbling out. “I mean we were classmates and we knew each other- We were kind of friends and more, but it wasn’t supposed to be serious, you know? I needed to focus on my studies, on my career. I wasn’t ready for anything more, and I told him that, but he just… he wanted more. But it didn’t make sense because he was in love with someone else, always talking about her like she was the one, and I felt like… like he was just using me to fill some void or get over her or something. And I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I did, and now—”

Your voice cracks, the guilt and confusion spilling over as you realize how loud and rambling you’ve become thanks to the alcohol that not only lessened your anxiety but loosened your tongue. The group falls into an uncomfortable silence, the weight of your confession hanging in the air. You can feel the burn of a gaze on the back of your neck, and when you turn, there he is—Jisoo, staring at you, his eyes filled with a mix of hurt and something else you can’t quite place.

Smile instantly dropping into a grimace, a mumbling of “Oh shit,” as he brushes past you without so much as a glance, wine stem threatening to break under the stress you now exude from your fingers. A pit dropping in your stomach as the reality of your words and the carelessness of your actions only sought to further dredge you from the comfort of your mind and into the abysmal present.

"I'm so sorry," you apologize with wide eyes to the group. A guilty being inside of you chases after him, the clacking of your shoes atop the marble floor echoing around the space yet muffled by the number of people that you’d outright embarrassed him in front of. Not that they’d all heard, only the ones that matter to him. You set the wine glass in your hand atop a small table before you exit, only after downing the last of the liquid that remained, hoping the warmth of your cheeks is more so from the wine than your mortification. You need liquid courage, yet if you consume any more, you’re unsure what other vile secrets may come tumbling from your lips.

Jisoo’s standing in the atrium of the building when you find him, tie loosened from his neck as if it had sought to choke out every last word from his mouth. You approach with a slowing velocity, unsure how to reintroduce yourself after the disaster of an evening. Another calamity incurred by a slip of the tongue and careless action by you, unlike your past self now this blinding awareness overtook you and a tremendous amount of guilt found itself weighing you down.

“I’m not good with words, I never have been.” A hand had run through his hair as he looked far too more shaken now than he had in the moments prior. Footsteps atop tile as he paces the space, a statue of some Roman deity or emperor looking down upon the two of you as if it meant to judge your sins. “I’ve tried so goddamned hard to forget about this and you just think it’s okay to waltz right back into my life and make it all some sort of fantastical joke?” You feel as if you were a child being scolded by a parent rather than whatever you would define your relationship with Joshua now. If there even was one to define. Eyes trailing the floor as the sternness in his voice was reason enough for you to never want to make eye contact with him again, your blood was hot, and you were warm with repentance. “You broke my heart, what makes you think that you have the right to come back?”

“If you want me to say I’m an asshole I can, the largest of assholes who was too stupid and vain to think of anyone but myself. That was a total lie back there I don’t even know why I said it.” You feel slovenly with the way the words fight their way out of you as you apologize for the immoralities of a time long past, “Jisoo,” he winces at the name, your sure no one’s called him that in some time, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Sorry for much more than the scene you’d just caused.

“Did you really never care about me?” The pain in his voice renders you from the present and into the past where he’d found you hidden away in some closet at a fraternity party. Your arms slung around the neck of someone you’d only met a handful of times before then, focus breaking when the door opens, and streams of blinking led lights from the party outside flooded into the dark space. It had taken you a moment to recognize the large silhouette in the doorway, shadow casting onto the two of you locked into a crude embrace. Blinking you return to the hardened stare he gives you now, reminiscent of that you saw in his eyes that day. “You fucked my friend and didn’t think anything of it.”

“We hadn’t spoken in months! I wasn’t obligated to pine over you when we’d practically become strangers.” Yet you had. This hallowed feeling had plagued you for months following that night, you’d remembered it the morning after and had an apology text written that you never found the courage to send. It sat on your phone screen for longer than you would have liked it to, but that’s what it did, sat and collected virtual dust while you found solace in finding use in other men to take your mind off of him.  

Eyes finding comfort in the statue above, you wait for the words trapped inside of his chest like a caged beast to be wrought upon you as he had probably wished to do since the last you’d seen him. They never come. No floods or wrath or hellfire fury wrung out for you to find. Just silence as the gentle chatter from the ballroom down the hall faintly ambling as the backdrop to your tragedy.

“If I had known it was you, I wouldn’t have come.” Spare him from this detriment of character. Scared. You were scared and that’s why you’d not spoken to him since that rainy afternoon. He’d said something before he left but you were too busy trying to keep yourself together to remember what he’d uttered. In his absence you’d try to remember, but it all proved fruitless and you perhaps had lost one of your truest friends that day. “Didn’t Mingyu tell you we were coming?”

Hands in his pockets, gaze racked onto something painted onto the domed ceiling of the atrium. “He did.” Breaking your gaze from the statue you look to him, quizzical brow already set atop your features.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Voice quiet, you feel the alcohol tunneling your vision and pulsing through your fingertips.

“To see if you’ve changed, to see if you’re still vehemently against my happiness.” Eyes turned to you as a frown adorns his lips. You’d never felt such seriousness come from him, it made you feel even more a cornered animal than you’d been in the ballroom. “It’s obvious that you are though, I should’ve expected as much.”

“Vehemently against your-? What the hell are you talking about Jisoo?”

“You never wanted me to be happy!” Hands flying out of his pockets as they move to gesticulate a feeling you couldn’t quite comprehend. “Every time I tried to move towards you, you always pushed me away. I tried to accept and understand that, but you let me into your arms on more occasions than I can count on my two hands. If you really didn’t want me then why did you continue to let me in like that?”

“Because I thought I was doing you a favor! I was taking your mind off of that girl! You never wanted me, or I was too stupid to see that you actually did because you talked about her all of the fucking time!” Voice raising as you continued, a fire boiling in your blood that you hadn’t realized had been only simmering for the past eternity. “It took too long for me to realize that I loved you back.” You were in love with him. You are in love with him and now you’ve gone and ruined any chance you had at reconciliation again. It’s as if some Austenian novel was taking place yet it was far too real and far too raw for it to be anything as romantic or gothic as such.

“Loved me back,” a bark from the back of his throat, a laugh of incredulity as the damnation in his gaze is ever so present, he didn’t believe you and he had every right not to. “You know, I thought about what I would say to you if I saw you again,” Leaning back so his weight now lay on the base of the statue, “I wrote out countless scenarios, questioning why you never reached out. Why I never tried to either. I was so, so angry at you and now I’m just tired.” Frown as he looks to the floor, the fire once bright behind his eyes simmering into a broken flame, “I can’t be too upset; I was as much an ass as you back then for not wanting to respect your wishes. But if I had loved you any less, I might just hate you now.”

A moment’s pause to reiterate what he’d said in your mind, the alcohol running rampant you take a few deep breaths in hope you’d heard what he admitted correctly. ‘Loved you any less,’ sounded like he certainly didn’t despise the essence of your being but with the way he’d acted prior to tonight made it seem as if you were a ghost to him. “Are you saying you don’t hate me?”

“I’m saying I’m old enough to realize that we both had our faults.” Gaze still trailing the veins of marble in the floor, “I used you as an emotional coping mechanism for the longest time before actually realizing I liked you. I didn’t even talk to her that last night, I just wanted to come over to be with you. But you,” Lower lip bitten as he nods his head, “I was never able to figure you out.”

Humbling as this whole situation is you’re finding it harder to stay upright, you move to stand next to him and motion to the bit of statue base beside him. He nods and scoots over enough to allow you enough space to lean alongside him. Warmth from where he once was lingering on your back, you let a sigh loose from your lips, “I was too selfish, I said I didn’t want to get involved with anyone, but I was just scared.” Foot tapping against the floor as the gentle reverberations echo around the room, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I didn’t even sleep with your friend, I left soon after you did.”

Mouth parted to say something more, it never happens as the door to the main hall opens and Mingyu emerges, quickly moving to the two of you. “Would you mind if we head back a little early? Sooyoung’s a little, no, super drunk and I don’t want her to say anything embarrassing. Well, anything more embarrassing.”

Knowing how your friend got seemed to momentarily distract and sober you, a look to Joshua and then to Mingyu you nod your head, “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t either,” Jisoo agrees and then opens his palm for Mingyu to throw him the car keys, “You get her and I’ll pull the car around.”

Gentle breathing as the warmth of another lying next to you in bed rouses you from slumber. Light peeking in from the window overhead as you shift, the fragrance of a rose scented shampoo greeting you. “Sooyoung,” a grumbling from your lips as you hadn’t realized that she’d snuck into your bed during the night, she was a clingy, cuddly drunk that you were normally never one to accommodate. But last night had been different, you barely remember the ride home as you’d been in and out of slumber. Joshua had driven while you took the passenger seat, Sooyoung’s head atop Mingyu’s lap as she gently snored away, finding sleep a much better accompaniment than drunkenness in a moving car.

“Five more minutes,” a murmur from her as she pulls the blankets closer to her chest, “I think I’m still drunk.”  

“Want to trade,” a hand moving to your forehead as you sit up, waves of nausea rolling like an unbearable tide through your system. “I need a Powerade and a nap. Do they have Powerade here?”

“Pedialyte maybe,” Sooyoung says, sounding more awake as the covers fall away as she sits up. She ponders for a moment, sleep in her eyes as she stares down at the white duvet. A yawn escaping her as she turns to you, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Hand running through your knotted locks, looking over to your similarly disgruntled friend.

“Oh, you know, the stock market.” Retort scoffing from her, “I’m talking about whatever the fuck happened last night between you and Joshua.”

Maybe you’d thought it all a dream, the argument and your drunken folly. Yet presented to you again you couldn’t help but acknowledge it, “I said something stupid and I apologized to him.” More than that you’d unthinkingly confessed you liked him eons too late, but you could blame that on your inebriation, although you’re not sure what he’d say. You’re not sure you saw him have a sip of anything at all last night.

“Seemed like a little more than that,” Shoulders shrugging as she moves to slide out of your bed and walk over to the small vanity. “When he was carrying you inside you were all over him, apologizing about something.”

“I what?” Eyebrows raising as you feel the familiar flush of embarrassment creep along your spine. “You must’ve been seeing things there’s no way in hell he’d do that.”

“-Even made sure to bring you some water,” you hadn’t realized she’d been continuing. “I can’t really remember much else though.” The sound of acute popping as she stretches her arms, “I’m going back to bed, wake me up if anything important happens, okay?”

A shake of your head as you usher her out to leave, an icy feeling running from your head to your toes as you think you’d rather stay in this room the entirety of your stay than face whatever was beyond the door. When you do get that confidence to venture out, as you didn’t hear anyone trapezing about the house, you try and quietly amble down the stairs as to not wake your slumbering friend a few doors down. Pounding in your head you make way to the kitchen to rummage around for an aspirin or five to rid yourself of the aftermath of indulgence. Quiet, “Shit,” escaping you as there’s nothing to be found, only water and tea. So, when Jisoo finds you sitting alone at the kitchen table, water glass in hand as your head is pressed gently to the rough wooden surface, he can surmise you’re probably not feeling your best. You hadn’t even heard the front door open, nor had you guessed he’d be dressed up in business attire once again. Another jarring thing to add to your morning.

“I figured you wouldn’t be feeling great,” His voice soft as if not to disrupt the cosmos, “I brought you and Sooyoung some espresso. It won’t cure your hangover, but it’ll wake you up.” The sound of a cup hitting the tabletop and you look up to see it sitting in front of you. The shift in his attitude over the course of the last two days all too paradoxical and overwhelming for you to think of right now. Your hand reaching forward to grasp the paper cup in your hands and slowly bring it to your face.

A sip taken and you sit up, “Thank you.” Finger running over the small hole atop the lid, “Sooyoung’s still asleep. I’m not sure when she’ll be up again.” Jisoo responds with a slight nod of his head, not furthering the conversation as it seems he’s lost in thought. “Where’s Mingyu?”

“At the conference,” It takes him a moment to respond, “I ducked out early to make sure you both were doing okay. He also wanted to know if the both of you wanted to check out the ruins today. It’s going to be crowded but we can sneak our way through without too much hassle.”

“I think we’d both be up for it after a little more sleep if that’s alright?” The scent of the espresso finally hitting you, it was good but didn’t sate the anxious butterflies floating around your stomach.

“That’s fine, you can go and get some sleep, Mingyu’s not supposed to be back for another couple of hours.”

“It’s quite sad, isn’t it?” Walking through the ancient and weathered streets of Pompeii felt more as if you were walking through a graveyard rather than a place frozen in time. In a way it is a graveyard, yet most came to ogle at the plastered bodies of the deceased than appreciate the ability to see how the people once lived and thrived. You stand now, with Mingyu and Sooyoung, Jisoo standing some feet back as you gaze at one of the faded frescoes from antiquity.

“Sad, yes. Tragic? Absolutely.” Mingyu says as he takes a few steps further into the atrium of the household, towards the small, empty impluvium that sat in its center. “But in a way it’s kind of happy too, don’t you think? It’s a city lost in time but we’re slowly uncovering the past and its people.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve got a room like this in the MoMA,” Sooyoung says, looking down to the little guidebook in her hand.

“That’s actually from a villa outside of the city,” Mingyu interjects, “It’s preserved beautifully.” They share a look and you turn away, not wanting to impede on their moment.

Instead, your attention turns to Jisoo, who’s walking through the doorway and out into the street, lip bitten you contemplate following after him since you hadn’t really spoken to him since that morning and a plethora of questions are running around your head. You excuse yourself from the other two, not that they would’ve noticed as it seems they were in deep conversation, and head out into the increasingly overcast afternoon. “I don’t want to sound weird but what exactly did I say to you when we came back here last night?” Voice calling out to Jisoo as he reads something carved into a slate of marble beside the house. Standing atop the steppingstones that dotted the antique streets so that you could get a better look at him. “I can’t really remember and it’s been eating me alive all day.”

Hum from his lips as he glances to the cloudy sky and then to you, “You did say something about being ‘the most unmitigated and comprehensive ass,’ was that Shakespeare?” There’s a slight smile to his lips and you feel your stomach doing cartwheels. “You said it at least ten times.” He strides over, not needing to take many steps since his gait is that of a giraffe’s.

“Austen, actually.” Words coming out in almost a whisper as the two of you stand in silence. Birds cawing overhead and the buzz of nearby tourists as you don’t know what to say next.

“For someone who was never a romantic, you sure as hell indulge in romantic things,” casual musing and he moves his hands into his pockets. The air smelled of sun-dried dirt and salt envelops you, even with the clouds above the harshness of the sun felt ever so present on your back.

“I’m sorry,” words escaping you, “I-”

“You’ve already apologized more in a weekend than I could’ve hoped for in my entire life,” A shake of his head as he raises a hand to stop you. Tongue swiping his lower lip, “You know, I thought I was supposed to be angry when I saw you again, but when I saw you standing in the house after all this time, I was more happy than not?” Laugh escaping him, “Maybe I’m crazy.”

“I was too,” in a strange way you had been. The anxiety had been there, of course, yet there was an undeniable elation at seeing him. Flicker of a smile coming over you, “Maybe we’re both crazy.”

“Mingyu’s said you’ve climbed up in your career pretty fast,” A nod of his head, “I’d love for you to tell me more about it if you’ve got time to grab dinner while you’re here?”

“It’s not like we’re housemates for the week or anything,” You smile, “I’d really like that.”

When he takes your hand and doesn’t let it go after you’ve exited his car, that’s when you start to think, finally, his resentment towards you had begun to fade. When he holds the door open and pulls your chair out for you at the restaurant, is when your heart starts thrumming. When he pays the tab but you go out for an hour or two longer talking, reminiscing, and catching up is when you feel like you can look at him without any semblance of regret or shame. When his hand lingers atop yours while he tells you a story about an extravagant find in Site V is when you can’t wipe the smile from your lips and the euphoria from your chest.

“So, other than becoming a wildly prolific curator, what else have you been up to?” Hand moving away from yours as he leans back in the small wooden chair. The dim lights of the restaurant casting soft shadows across his features.

“I play tennis on the weekends, I’ve also got a cat back home but she’s kind of an asshole,” you laugh, returning your hand to your lap. “But what about you? I always thought you’d go into curation, never saw you as the archeologist type.”

“To be honest I thought it’d be like Indiana Jones, but I think the movies overexaggerated his job a little bit,” the joke playing gaily in his eyes as he shoots you a small smile. “But I might look into a museum job when I get older, it’s just too much fun being out in the field right now. I didn’t enjoy archiving as much as this.”

“I get that,” agreeing as you reach for your water, taking a sip before placing it back onto the table. “So, did you and that girl ever work out?”

“That girl,” Joshua pauses, “You know she has a name, right?”

“Of course, but I don’t think I’ve ever called her by it.” Lips pursed as your finger plays with the condensation on the glass.

“What did you call her? An anglophile or something?”

“She always had that stupid union jack jacket on, it was like she was trying to be a wannabe Beatle,” it wasn’t a bad jacket. You realize now that it had probably been jealousy that coined the title.

A short laugh, “I remember that. But no, we never ended up together. I’m really only dating one person right now.”

Brow furrowing, had you gotten this whole night misconstrued? “Oh really? Who is it?”

“I’m not really sure, to be honest. We kind of found him halfway under a rock a few years back and have been trying to piece him and his story together ever since.” Eyes widening as he tells you the tale, “He’s at least nineteen hundred years old so I don’t think it’ll work out between us though.”

“You’re an asshole,” scoffing as you roll your eyes at him. In all honesty you were a little relieved he’d only been joking.

The two of you slowly begin to realize the lateness of the hour, the moon hanging high as you exit the bar with warm faces and hints of smiles lingering on your lips. There is a coolness in the air that hadn’t been present when you’d entered, it wasn’t cool enough to make you shiver but it feels pleasant as it runs over your skin. The drive home is filled with aimless chatter, it just feels comfortable to be back on good terms with him and feel his presence once more in your life.

Not too long after you arrive to the house, you find your friends absent. Checking your phone, you see they’ve gone off to watch a film and wouldn’t be back for another hour or two. You sit on the plush, green velveteen sofa of the living room as Jisoo saunters in with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. “I’m shocked at the amount of wine everywhere, I feel like if I stuck a spigot into the ground it’d be wine that comes out instead of water.”

“The Italians love their aperitifs and their wine,” Jisoo says as he pours out two glasses and hands you one. The TV turned onto a channel playing a movie you know but dubbed in Italian, you watch for a moment before feeling the brush of a hand atop your shoulder. Turning to look, you see Joshua’s head tilted to the side as his fingers dance along your shoulder.

“Can you tell me if I’m being too presumptuous?” A nod of your head as his fingers begin to absentmindedly play with a few strands of your hair, “But I don’t think my feelings about you changed all too much since I told you I loved you. And I understand if you don’t want to accept me again because it’s been too long, and we’ve grown apart but-”

Jisoo’s ramblings are cut short when you lean forward and place a kiss on his lips. It isn't your first kiss with him, nor was it his with youu. Although it was your first kiss with him that you wholly put intention behind as you’d never allowed it before because it had called for an intensified intimacy, you’d been scared to assign yourself to such a concept. Yet now you feel as if you were ready, “I love you too.”

Pulling your face away from him, the stars of disbelief shine in his eyes as the glow of the TV lights illuminate the smile on his lips. He looks relieved, sated and gleeful, a cornucopia of feelings that were unobtainable so long ago. Without another word you settle into each other, your head upon his chest as his hands run absentmindedly through your hair, the staticky nature of the television and sounds of a summer night outside lulling you both to sleep. It’s difficult to explain the situation to your friends that walk in an hour and a half later, startling the two of you awake as they come upon you. Their hands interlocked with each other, you shoot Mingyu a look to which he avoids, Sooyoung only winks and looks down to your hand which you find covered by Jisoo’s. It’s a silent act of solidarity, just a casual acceptance of what time had spurned as the night trudges onwards and you return to his side as the other two make their way upstairs.

[bluesunss]

Moonbird T.O.P (Choi Seunghyun) x F!Reader

Big Bang april challenge - April 4th

summary: bumping into an ex at the most unexpected place...

warnings: nothing much really, tiny bit of angst and emotional cheating innuendos (but no actual cheating and NOT between the main characters - read to understand), sensitive reader

a/n: if I say I got carried away it would be an euphemism. this is quite long, literally a full fanfic on its own. a whole subplot has been created for it! I hope it will be enjoyable :) tysm @wcnderlnds and @ldydeath for the fun challenge!

p.s.: the Adrienette slow dance music perfectly fits the vibe

The hum of the passenger-filled airplane was the only sound reaching you. And yet, people continued to board the massive metallic vessel, speaking loudly as they hoisted their luggage into the overhead compartments. You could hear the rustling of jackets as strangers bumped into each other, the children asking how long the journey would take or whether they could eat.

You were already seated, and it was no accident. The moment boarding was announced, you had leaped to be the first in line, the first to present your passport, your documents, your ticket. In fact, the flight was scheduled to depart at four in the afternoon, but you had arrived at the airport at seven in the morning.

But that, too, was no coincidence. You were terrified of planes. Heights. An irrational, all-consuming fear that sometimes forced you to endure three-day train journeys just to avoid a simple flight. Even though your budding career as a seamstress required you to travel, it was well known that you never took planes, and the rare events to which you were invited were usually within Korea, around Seoul.

It wasn’t a bad arrangement, you thought. No, it was your fear that dictated your choices. Not just any fear, not the kind that makes you close your eyes for a moment. No, yours was the kind that made you tremble, cry, curl into yourself.

But this time, you had no choice. One of your closest childhood friends was getting married this weekend in Paris. And unless some magical form of transportation could bridge the gap between Seoul and Paris, you were left with no other option. You had considered declining. Hesitated for hours.

But in the end, you had no choice but to accept. Because your favorite fashion designer, DIANE, lived near the wedding venue and you were told she might attend. Because it was one of your dearest friends. Because you hadn’t seen him in over ten years, and you missed him terribly. Because at thirty-four, your life was just beginning, and it was a chaotic whirlwind of fabric, needles, phone calls, restless women, and fashion magazines. Of screens, austerity, discipline. A thrilling life, yes, but an exhausting one.

Head buried in your hands, you took a deep breath, trying to steady the irrational pounding of your heart. Your chest ached, tightening around your lungs, forcing you to breathe only through your mouth, in uneven, ragged gasps. You rubbed your clammy hands together, then wiped them on your jeans - only to repeat the motion as fresh sweat immediately replaced the last.

The plane was scheduled to take off in about ten minutes. Since your friend Dong-hyun and his fiancée had decided to gift flight tickets to all their guests, you had insisted on flying economy class despite their attempts to offer you a better seat. Dong-hyun eventually gave in, albeit reluctantly. His fiancée scolded him; she genuinely wanted you to be comfortable. You pulled the light shawl over your shoulders and breathed in its scent.

Lost in thought, you decided to calm yourself by opening a book from your carry-on. Time passed at that steady rhythm until you felt a shift, a faint tremor. Your fingers clenched around the book. The words dissolved into broken syllables.

“…his hand… rai… catch… and… c…”

The rolling motion began. Like a car, you murmured. Like. A. Car. Breathe. Stay calm. It’s going to be okay. A. Car. A train. It’s going to be okay.

At first, it was fine. The first ten minutes. The wheels retracting. The screech against the tarmac. And then it began. Your nails dug into the armrests. You squeezed your eyes shut, tried to control your breathing, counted the clouds, but nothing worked.

Beside you, a child sat with headphones on, absorbed in a book, while his mother dozed off, cradling a newborn. You couldn’t ask them for help. Across the aisle, a man was fast asleep.

The shaking started.

The plane sped up. Faster. Faster still. Faster, faster, faster - it was about to lift off, about to take flight. The seatbelt sign wasn’t even on yet, but you were braced, your heart pounding wildly.

And then, turbulence.

Your hand shot out and latched onto someone’s arm as they passed by, gripping their forearm with all your strength. Trembling, lips pressed into a thin line, you refused to let go. And then-

A voice instructed passengers to fasten their seatbelts.

You looked up.

The person looked down.

And you both froze.

He was wearing a mask. A cap.

But those eyes. Those strands of hair falling over his gaze.

Him.

Choi Seunghyun.

“Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

Right there. In front of you. Your first love. The first person in your life. The one with whom you had built a future. Who had pushed you to enroll in fashion school. Whom you had encouraged to try rapping. Whose first lyrics you helped write. Who you graduated high school with.

Of course.

The one celebrating his birthday - Dong-hyun - had been your best friend back then. The nights spent playing board games after school. The words, the music. The way they used to tease you two, knowing you were in love but that neither of you dared to make the first move.

The time they abandoned you at the fair, forcing you two together.

The moment his lips met yours on the Ferris wheel.

The day he confessed, cheeks flushed, in the heart of your seventeen-year-old selves.

Oh.

If there was one thing Seunghyun knew, it was how terrified you were of heights. In the Ferris wheel, before he kissed you, you had cried and clung to his shirt. In the end, it had been purely instinctive. You had found him looking at you, soothing you, and it had simply happened. Your heart had pounded for an entirely different reason, and the world had fallen silent.

And the wheel had reached the bottom. Calmly. Without turbulence.

Seunghyun’s arm did not move. Another thing about him was his ability to make decisions quickly.

“Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. I repeat, please-”

“Unfasten your seatbelt,” he ordered. You were too stunned to react. With a swift movement, you clicked open your belt. A flight attendant was striding toward you, but Seunghyun remained unfazed. He waited - waited for the command to reach your brain, for your fingers to press the metallic clasp, for his hand to calmly take yours and enclose it within his.

Gently guiding you, he led you all the way to the empty seats. The flight attendant approached, but then, suddenly, Seunghyun lowered his mask, and she blushed before turning away.

He took one of the vacant seats and sat down, then helped you sit before fastening your seatbelt. Without a word, he placed a hand on the side of your head, tilted it onto his shoulder, close to his heart, and let his fingers hover against your cheek for a moment before lowering his hand to your shoulder, keeping you pressed against him.

Not a single word. Only the rhythm of his heartbeat, the reassuring scent of clean linen and his cologne - unchanged - the warmth of his fingers on your shoulder, and the silence that said everything.

You no longer felt anything. You were at peace. The plane accelerated. The wheels screeched against the ground, and then your heart lurched as it took off, as the world tilted slightly and the landscape blurred past.

But Seunghyun held you close. He pressed your shoulder in that rhythmic way he had with his fingers, one after the other, like playing a piano, creating a cadence that regulated your breathing. He always did that when you panicked - whether over an overwhelming workload or when you came home crying after a failed deal. Seunghyun was calm and understanding.

Perhaps that was why you drifted apart. After high school, he spent two years at SNU studying history, but he never managed to love the university or academic life. Eventually, he dropped out, and gradually, you both ended up investing in a talent he had kept buried deep within him but had always cherished - singing, rapping, the world of stardom. Little by little, a career took shape.

You had been there, watching from the sidelines, as he traded textbooks for lyrics and study halls for underground stages. He started rapping again, reconnecting with an old friend, Kwon Ji-yong, and from there, everything snowballed. YG Entertainment. Big Bang. Stadiums and screaming fans. His name became something else - T.O.P - and the world claimed him.

You had hardly ever met the other members. You were too busy. You, whom he had encouraged to enroll in a fashion school, faced rejection after rejection.

He had always been there for you. All this time. His rhythmic tapping, his presence - him, simply. Always putting you before his career. Always. One call at any hour? He would be at your doorstep, canceling a concert for tens of thousands of people.

But you were the one who distanced yourself first. You were too much for him. Too much of everything, too much of his world, too much of his refuge, too much of his problem.

And then, you were finally accepted by an underrated Korean designer. She saw herself as a pioneer, advocating for pattern mixing - pairing a plaid shirt with a polka-dot skirt.

You were not an innovator, more conventional, but she guided you beyond the conformity of everyday life. Seunghyun always saw you as a little bird - his nickname for you was Dalsae. Moon bird.

But you had taken flight. Your first fashion show was a shock. She provoked, she attacked. Seunghyun warned you, saying you were going against your nature, but you thought he wanted to keep you from flying. You lashed out at him. You provoked him constantly, throwing barbed words, yet he remained as calm as ever.

But each time, he withdrew a little more.

A crack formed. And when the designer helped you spread your wings, she clipped them. She stole your sketches and created a new collection that shook the fashion world. A deafening silence.

However, Seunghyun was no longer there. He had pulled away - afraid for you, but also of you. You were always so quick to anger.

The cracks deepened. Mistakes were made on both sides: he withdrew when you truly needed him, and you let him go when he needed a sign to stay.

And so, your worlds crumbled. Even when you came back, proposed new designs, received countless calls, even when Nova was suddenly dragged to court for intellectual theft, and your sketches were finally unveiled to the world.

Even when your world rebuilt itself. He was no longer there.

Physically, yes, you still lived together. But the mistakes of your youth had turned you into wandering souls. Strangers.

The separation was silent. Slowly, things disappeared - first a toothbrush, then a jacket, then his underwear. Then the shelves emptied, the closets, the separate nights.

And then, one morning, he told you he would be staying over at a friend’s place for the night. And you knew he would not return.

He left you the furniture, the car, the apartment. But he took your heart. You didn’t cry in the first few weeks. You were too busy, still unaware.

Then, one Friday night, you came home, laughing, happy because you had been invited to your first event, and you wanted him to come. You had called his name, placed a cake you had bought on the dining table, and suddenly realized.

He was gone. The apartment was empty.

And only then did you cry, mourning the loss of the person dearest to you.

Seven years later, he was here. Holding you as he used to, just as calm. You stayed in his arms for long minutes. You even dozed off against his chest as his fingers stroked your hair.

Hours later, you woke with just an hour and a half left in the flight, realizing that throughout the twelve-hour journey, not once had you trembled. And against you, he breathed, deeply asleep, his hand still holding you - just as he had seventeen years earlier, in that Ferris wheel.

With a small movement, you lifted his arm, gently placed it back against his body, then slipped away to retrieve your bag and belongings. As you returned, you wondered why you were coming back to your ex’s side, but you chose not to think about it too much and let yourself sink into the seat beside him.

You pulled out your book, and even when the plane landed, the mere presence of the man with his steady breathing and familiar scent was enough to calm you.

You arrived at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport around four in the morning. Your body was stiff as you unloaded your luggage and belongings, and by the time you were through, it was nearly five, with the sun rising. Seunghyun and you had exchanged no words, but he remained close, his hand hovering over the small of your back, guiding you everywhere. He retrieved your suitcase, your handbag - a birthday gift from him as a couple - and you swore you saw his eyes soften behind his mask. You spoke little, in brief syllables - “All good?” “And you?” “Yes.” “No.” “Careful.” “Go first.”

The French air smelled sharper, a little less artificial than Korea’s. The airport was vast, filled with unfamiliar voices and sounds you didn’t understand.

“L'embarquement pour l'avion vers Riyad partira avec un retard de quinze minutes. Les portes de l'embarquement pour Genève sont fermées. À cause des travaux-”

Seunghyun was pulling his suitcase and carrying your backpack. After all the security checks (where you were forced to throw away a perfume bottle because you had apparently forgotten how to read numbers), you finally reached the airport exit together. You were the one to break the real silence.

“Are you going to Dong-hyun and Soo-yeon’s wedding?”

He had lowered his mask - in Paris, he was less recognized - and you took the opportunity to observe him under his cap, his dark brown hair always falling messily over his eyes, the way you used to love brushing it back. His deep eyes, which used to light up when you kissed him and he pulled you into his arms. His thin, rosy lips. He hadn’t changed, though a few lines creased his forehead when he raised his eyebrows or around his eyes. But that was only because you knew his face by heart. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed.

You removed your shawl and shook your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. You thought his gaze lingered on you, but when you looked up, he was reading the screens.

You walked side by side, silent, save for the rolling of your suitcases on the parquet floor and the shrill voices of parents calling after their children.

“I received the invitation a month ago.”

Seunghyun rarely answered with a simple yes or no. He always took a step around his response, as if he already knew what you were about to say.

"Me too. I'm surprised he's doing it in Paris, even though Soo-yeon is French."

He still wasn’t looking at you. "Dong-hyun dreamed of Montparnasse."

Memories resurfaced. Dong-hyun didn’t care about the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre. He was obsessed with that tower - who knows why.

"His architectural project model was a replica of the tower, remember?"

Seunghyun’s lips curled slightly, and you thought you heard a quiet laugh escape him. "He was such an idiot, too. Who builds a famous tower? Did he think that just because it was in Korea, he could pretend he had invented it?"

You laughed too, your eyes glimmering. "He said great minds think alike. I haven’t seen him in a while."

"Ten years. Just before…"

Before you parted ways. A heavy silence fell again. You gripped your suitcase, your knuckles turning white.

"We’re here."

You lifted your head. It was the exit. Seunghyun lingered for a moment, his gaze resting on your face, which seemed so distant to him that his heart clenched.

"Do you have a taxi?"

You nodded. Soo-yeon and you had video-called because her fiancé had told her you two would get along perfectly, and she had adored you - both you and your designs. Her mother was French, and Soo-yeon had assured you that your fashion would revolutionize Paris. She had even sent a friend to pick you up directly.

And there he was. You recognized him from the picture - dark brown hair, green eyes, leather jacket.

He recognized you too. He walked up to you, pulled you into a hug, and kissed both your cheeks loudly. Then, he grabbed your suitcase, speaking in a choppy mix of French and English.

"Yoo, Soo-yeon told me so much sur toi. Askip you’re a designer. TROP excited to see that."

He walked with a swagger and smelled of cigarettes and leaves. You glanced up at Seunghyun as the man, in a hurry, dragged your luggage while monologuing.

Your cheeks were red, your eyes still damp. You grabbed your backpack from Seunghyun’s hand and gave him a quick wave.

"See you later."

He didn’t answer. His eyes flicked from you to the man, then to the signs and the ticking time. He hadn’t lost his composure, but you could have sworn you saw him falter.

☽

The hotel was a grand Haussmannian building in the sixth arrondissement. In the lobby, men carried your suitcases upstairs, the so-called friend, Benoît, kissed your cheeks again before leaving, and you found yourself lost in a foreign whirlwind.

Your belongings were brought up, you followed the elevator to the seventh floor, walked down the hallway, and a mustached man in red opened the door for you, handing you a key card.

Only then did you let yourself collapse onto the velvet bed. The wedding was in two days, and you felt yourself sink into sleep.

☽

Night fell, and you woke abruptly to a deep, thunderous rumble. Jolting out of bed, you searched for the source before realizing the window was ajar. You still hadn’t changed. Moving toward the small balcony, you stepped outside. In the distance, a construction site pressed forward, a massive yellow crane screeching as it moved. How did the workers dare to climb it? To you, it was the ultimate display of courage.

The night was deep, the sky a dark blue, starless. Far away, the Eiffel Tower pierced a lone cloud. It had not yet begun to sparkle. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of flowers placed along the railing and something warm. And just then, you felt a new world unfolding before you. It would be okay. Everything would be okay.

You smiled at the sky, stretching your hand outward as if to touch the Eiffel Tower from afar.

"Careful!"

The voice came from your left. You turned your head sharply, gripping the railing for balance - and then you saw him.

Seunghyun had the room next to yours. The moment he saw you, his fist clenched, and without another word, he stepped back into his room.

Your heart pounded violently. You turned back inside, shut the terrace doors, and stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Quickly, you washed your body with the hotel’s Marseille soap, dried your hair in the modern bathroom, then changed to go for a walk.

Dressing wasn’t a simple task for you; designing clothes meant you played by your own rules. Your main principle lay in color - its chaotic harmony. That was why you were Korea’s ever-changing bird. And Seunghyun’s moonbird. His Dalsae.

But tonight, you wanted to exist quietly. Without colors.

So you slipped into one of your work sweaters and a pair of trousers - elegant and pressed, but loose enough to let you dissolve into your thoughts. You laced up your sneakers, unlocked the door, and left your belongings neatly stacked in the corner of the room.

The hallway was lined with red carpet, the walls gilded leather molded into a series of convex shapes. It was an attempt at blending Renaissance France with Versailles and Louis Le Vau’s influence while preserving the Haussmannian essence that came later in the early nineteenth century.

The mix was somewhat grotesque - clumsy in the way only forced luxury can be. Instinctively, your fingers reached for your ear, searching for a pencil as if to sketch out a better design, when a shadow moved behind you.

Seunghyun approached, carrying his scent like an unmistakable aura. He tilted his head.

"The hotel’s style is strange."

It wasn’t a question. He had figured it out. He always did. You threw your head back, grinning at him upside down.

"Yep. I want to redesign the whole building."

He smiled softly, and the two of you continued walking through the hall.

What was he doing here?

"Paris is dangerous at night," he replied, as if he had read your thoughts. "These are the nice neighborhoods, but every corner has a story. Don’t go out alone."

You nodded thoughtfully. His gaze swept over your ‘normal’ outfit, your barely-there makeup, the damp curls that had slipped from your low ponytail.

You walked in silence for a moment, reached the elevator, and waited patiently. You swung your foot slightly forward, feigning indifference.

The elevator arrived. You stepped inside, and then-

The silence of the corridor suddenly expanded into something immense. Overwhelming.

The seven floors that had taken only minutes before now stretched into endless hours.

You didn’t dare lift your head to meet his gaze. He said nothing, but you knew his head was lowered too. And that he had pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt - your favorite - over his hair.

"So… how are you?"

His voice sent a shiver down your spine. Between these four walls, it felt so distant yet so close, vibrating through you.

"I’m fine. But…"

Finally daring to look at him, you tried to catch his eyes as they darted away.

"And you? Are you… okay?"

His fingers tugged at the drawstrings of his hoodie. He wasn’t looking at you.

"Hyun?"

At the sound of his name, he reacted. His face lifted, revealing something shaken, fractured - all the emotions bottled up in those endless silences, in that dull absence.

"I…"

Ting!

The door opened. He composed himself, adjusted his posture, and let you step out before following suit. The hotel lobby had filled slightly with couples and murmuring voices, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. Every golden table was occupied. People spoke loudly, many in English. A blend of musk and old upholstery floated around you, and you mentally added it to the list of comforting scents.

Seunghyun stepped ahead as the grand doors swung open, and the two of you stepped into the fresh, dark night. A shiver ran through you, and you followed him. You walked in silence for a while, taking in the crisp scent of pine and sharp autumn leaves, until the quiet grew heavier.

So much to say, and no way to say it.

“How are GDragon and the others?”

Truthfully, GD was the only name you had remembered - because you loved dragons and the intricate scale patterns you often incorporated into your designs, and because you'd met Jiyong a few times.

Seunghyun exhaled softly. “They’re fine.”

You reached a winding street. Hundreds of cars crisscrossed in every direction, and well-dressed pedestrians crowded the sidewalks. For the first time in your life, you felt underdressed. The Eiffel Tower loomed closer.

“Not really,” he finally admitted, exhaling. “There have been… problems. A few scandals. It’s been rough.”

A gust of cold air made you shudder. He noticed but said nothing at first. “We’ve had problems. I don’t know if things will ever get better.”

Big Bang? Problems? You had been so consumed by your own world that you had ignored his. To this day, the wound of your breakup was still raw. Because neither of you had ever really spoken the words. And perhaps because of that, you still felt as if you were together. As if every man you had dated since was, in some unspoken way, a betrayal. You were still bound to Seunghyun.

The silence was unbearable.

The nights spent laughing like lunatics on the couch over some ridiculous comedy. The hours wasted on absurd video games he’d bought from obscure stores, games that made no sense. The virus he downloaded that turned your screen blue for months. The ridiculous nicknames. That time you both dyed your hair red and botched it so badly that your scorched ends turned into wild, lion-like manes for weeks. The rule 'No laughing at the other' that none of you respected, holding your stomaches with laughter. The kisses.

You missed him. More than that - you were dying without him.

“Seunghyun?”

He tilted his head slightly, listening. He had always been calm, but never this silent.

“Why did we break up?”

The question lingered in the air. It cut through the tension, shattering it into a thousand sharper pieces. Your breath caught in your throat. Too late to take it back now.

Glancing at him, you noticed the slight tremor in his lower lip.

“We never really broke up,” he said.

It was true. Exactly what you had feared all along.

“But you were afraid,” he added. “Terrified.”

Afraid? You barely had time to ask before he continued.

“When that woman - the designer, the one they called Super-”

“Nova.”

“Yes. Supernova. When she took you in, she made you scared of everything. You lost yourself after that. Your ambition, your sketches, your dreams.”

The sky was cloudless. Seunghyun’s steps beside you were light, steady, grounding.

“And me. You were so afraid of ruining everything that you did everything to push me away. You fear your own emotions.”

You only realized you were crying when the cold air brushed against your damp cheeks. Two quiet tears slipped down your face and disappeared into the pavement.

“Did you ever want to end it all?” you asked. The question that had burned on your tongue for years. Had he ever wanted to leave?

He did not answer immediately.

A street vendor tried to slip miniature Eiffel Towers into your pockets, but Seunghyun stopped him with a single, polite nod, freezing the man in place. The warm scent of crepes drifted through the air. Seunghyun followed your gaze and stopped at the stand. You protested, but he bought two - one with sugar, one with chocolate - and handed you the last one without expecting anything in return.

That was who he was. A giver. Even his happiness, at the cost of his own.

“Never,” he finally answered.

He shook his head as you bit into the buttery warmth, the sweet-salty contrast overwhelming your senses. Another warmth spread within you.

“You know Nova was sued?” you said.

He smirked. “Serves her right. She was unbearable.”

“Hey, not entirely. After meeting her, I’d come home with rolls of fabric and sew you the most stylish ties.”

He chuckled, the sound so familiar it sent a shiver of happiness through you.

“Stylish? I had to attend auditions wearing shirts with tiny penguins and monkeys on the cuffs.”

You nearly choked on your bite of crepe.

“You okay?” he asked.

Yeah. You were okay.

“You wore them! Every single one!”

You burst out laughing, picturing him rapping in his ridiculous shirts. And despite himself, despite everything, laughter finally took hold of him too.

“Yes. Every single one.”

Wiping his eyes, he turned to you.

“Because you made them.”

Your laughter faded into quiet warmth. You looked up at him, eyes bright, lips curved in a soft smile. You held his gaze for long, lingering seconds.

How you had missed him. All this time. All these years.

He studied you in return. Your eyes remained locked until he finally looked away and took another bite of his crepe. You resumed walking.

“Seunghyun?”

“Hm?” You swallowed.

“How did they find out Nova stole my sketches?”

The man beside you swallowed hard. You had often wondered who had leaked the signed designs you had hidden away, the ones that vanished right after his departure.

“The truth always comes out,” he said. But he avoided your gaze.

He had been your guardian angel all these years.

Your heart pounded again. The Eiffel Tower was just ahead now, glowing golden, its lights forming a mosaic against the night sky. Crowds of people laughed, danced, filmed, kissed. You climbed the steps, drawing closer to the iron lattice, watching it shimmer, your eyes full of stars.

Laughing, you turned to Seunghyun. “Take a picture of me.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You held out your phone, but he pulled out his own.

“The camera’s better,” he said.

He hadn’t changed his phone in years. The image froze in time - your eternal smile, your rosy cheeks.

You bounced back to him, beaming. “Amazing! Your turn!”

He shook his head, resisting. But you tugged at his sleeve, and before he could protest, you handed his phone to a woman with a stroller while her husband scolded two rowdy children. She smiled warmly and gestured for you to pose.

Seunghyun left a few inches of space between your shoulders.

“Closer!” the woman instructed in English. “Yeah! Perfect!”

You had moved closer. "Cheeese." She took the picture.

"Your arm! Come on, your girl is so beautiful!" She smiled at you.

Seunghyun swallowed hard. The woman made a sweeping gesture with her arm, prompting him to wrap his own around your neck.

"Bring her closer! Don’t you love the girl?"

So you nestled into his embrace. You let your hands linger on his chest, your head resting against his heart, and he tightened his grip on your shoulder, relaxing just slightly.

"Perfect!" the woman cried. "Excellent. A kiss, maybe?"

Seeing the horror on your faces, she laughed and handed you the phone back.

"So cute! Me and my husband?"

You took her picture, and she left, waving warmly.

"Can I see the photos?" you asked.

Seunghyun handed you his phone, and you scrolled through them. Then, instinctively, you tapped the small arrow in the rectangle to send them to yourself.

Dalsae.

Your breath caught. You were still here.

You hadn’t changed.

With trembling fingers, you hit send. Then you handed him back the phone, your lips quivering. His fingers brushed against yours. His eyes never left you. He picked up his phone. You extended your hand.

The Eiffel Tower sparkled. Darkness had suddenly fallen. Deep, luminous, fireworks bursting in the sky.

There. It was only him, and only you. Your eyes fell to his lips. His gaze traced your face, your mouth. Your body gravitated toward his. Your hands landed on his chest, his on your hips.

You were mere centimeters apart. It was cold. You were burning.

You lifted onto your toes. He tilted his head. His hair skimmed your cheeks, your forehead. Your nose brushed against his. Your lips-

"Ow!"

A girl behind you stumbled. You jumped, and Seunghyun abruptly pulled away.

"Sorry! I'm sorry, I-"

You reached for him again, but he withdrew feverishly.

"No, we can’t!" he insisted.

"But why?!" you snapped, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes. "Do you not love me? Do you not love me anymore?"

He shook his head, as if he couldn’t understand what you were saying, as if it were nonsense.

"Stop, please. We need to go back. You need to rest for the wedding."

"Seunghyun! You say I run from my feelings, but you’re the one running from yours! What is it?!"

His eyes were locked on you, but he wasn’t really seeing you. He had shut down. He was pulling away. You were sinking, nearly screaming.

"I can’t!"

"BUT WHY?!"

His mouth opened. You saw it coming. You felt it.

"I have someone! There!"

Your heart plummeted in your chest. In an instant, it collapsed. The world turned black, then blue, then gray, then orange. Then black again. So very black.

"Fine," you whispered.

"Listen, I-"

"No, it’s fine. Good luck."

You stepped back, watching him, and nearly missed the step behind you. It should have made you laugh, but instead, you broke, and you exploded into a thousand tears, fleeing into the streets toward the hotel.

Seunghyun reached out, but it was useless. Just like you and the Eiffel Tower from the balcony.

If he stepped too far, he would fall.

☽

The next morning arrived like a flash of lightning. You had no idea how your clothes ended up on your body, how you slipped into your quiet morning attire and made your way to the first hall, long before the festivities, starting tomorrow evening.

You were suprised to find the bride to be. Soo-yeon sat downstairs in the hall, at one of the gilded cafeteria tables, sipping tea in a delicate pink dress and chatting with five teenage girls. The moment she saw you, she turned, dropped her cup, and ran toward you.

"OH, darling! I’ve so dreamed of meeting you!"

She pulled away after pressing two loud kisses to your cheeks, leaving two bright pink lip marks on your face. Her strong perfume - lavender, mandarin, and bergamot - made your eyes sting. Her long hair was dyed pink all the way to the roots, concealing its true color, and despite her distinctly Korean features, her brown eyes seemed to shimmer a little blue.

"You’re gorgeous!"

She took your arm, humming, and sat you down on the sofa near the table, calling the waiter.

"Garçon!"

A man arrived, took your order - hot chocolate - and left. She spoke a lot, a mix of korean, english and french, quickly, but never stuttered or hesitated. Her posture was impeccable.

"Listen, I have a brilliant idea. How long does it take you to create a dress?" she asked.

You shook your head, a little overwhelmed. Then, thoughtful, you counted on your fingers. Sketch. Choose fabrics. Shopping. Cutting. Tracing. Dampening the fabric to give it texture, if the design required it. Crinkling. Ironing. Sewing. Assembling. Fitting. Adjusting. Re-sewing.

"Ah, a lot. Almost fifteen hours if I take a full day without eating, without breaks, and if the client patiently waits while I test everything on them."

Soo-yeon smiled, her glittery pink eyeshadow shimmering. She was too impatient.

"Well! Listen," she motioned for you to come closer, leaning slightly in, resting a manicured hand on your forearm. "If I give you an ideal world. A workshop. And even small employees. Could you make that work?"

You stared, confused, waiting for her to keep going as she examined your face with a small smile. When you did not respond, she continued.

"Make my dress for tomorrow."

You stared at her, dumbfounded. But she did not give you time to think.

"If you make it, just know that one of the best fashion designers in Paris will drop by my party. DIANE."

It was as if the breath had been knocked from your lungs. DIANE was your idol. You admired her as much as you feared her and her judgment.

"Of course, I have a dress, just in case. But this idea came to me just this morning at four AM, while I couldn’t sleep and was painting my nails. I want something new, I want to be the most original bride in Paris."

Your heart pounded. The other girls watched you with smiles. They were young. She gestured toward them.

"These are friends’ daughters who were looking for a job opportunity. They’ll be at your service - I’ll pay them, and I’ll pay for the dress. You get to impress DIANE. And I have a dress no one possesses in Paris by the future fashion sensation."

In around forty hours. It was nearly seven AM. The opportunity was incredible. Then an idea struck you. With five assistants, you could also create bridesmaids’ dresses.

You often got a bit too ahead of yourself, and that you would only realise in a few hours.

"How many bridesmaids do you have?" you finally asked.

If she was surprised, she didn’t show it.

"Well, I have many friends, but only three very close ones. Léa, Camille, and Mi-rae. And I’ve chosen you as well, of course."

Four dresses.

"The wedding is Saturday at eight PM?" you asked, jumping from your seat, nearly knocking over the hot chocolate that had just arrived.

She grinned brightly.

"Sharp, darling."

☽

Forty hours. Forty hours. Forty hours.

Soo-yeon lent you a friend’s workshop. It had everything you needed, from sewing machines to spools of thread. She had given you a magazine featuring different fabrics and had circled her favorites.

The five girls spoke English; only one of them understood and spoke Korean. She translated quickly for her friends and became your right hand.

“Okay, Ju-bin, tell them to fetch me the white tin fabric and the crystal flowers here.”

"Faut chercher les fleurs de cristal et le tissu blanc les filles!"

You pointed to the magazine. The girls, thrilled, dashed off. They returned swiftly. You stacked the fabrics, let them dry during the process, rushed all over the workshop, pricked your fingers seven times. Then, you started working on the bridesmaids’ dresses in raspberry red fabric, asking for off-white diamonds. One of the girls went to buy cream-colored heels, another returned with tights, Soo-yeon had left her number, and everything was going well.

Then, suddenly, in your exhaustion, you lifted the bride's dress and saw that you had made a mistake. One single stitch was sticking out too much. From afar, it was invisible, but with the bride in front of everyone, it would be immediately noticeable, and for DIANE, it was ruined.

The dress slipped from your hands, and you exploded. It was two o'clock. The day was almost over, and tomorrow you needed to get the bridesmaid's dresses done. You could never continue.

The girls, who had returned, surrounded you and tried to help, but you cried bitterly in your helplessness. It reminded you of the night with Nova when she said "See you tomorrow," and the next day, your sketches were her new collection. And that... Seunghyun had been there to comfort you. All night. Even though you were strangers. You knew the relationship was hanging by a thread, and you were tipping over to the wrong side.

“Are you okay?!" The workshop door opened with a gust of wind that carried the familiar musk scent, and there he was, standing in his large felt jacket, his chest rising with short, labored breaths. "I got a call from Dong-hyun and an insane idea from his wife - his fiancée - Dalsae?”

Seunghyun stared at your helpless and crumbled figure.

“What’s going on?”

The girls stepped aside. Ju-bin widened her eyes in surprise.

“T.O.P.?”

He flashed her a small smile, always polite.

“Ah, yes,” he replied. “Can we talk after?”

She nodded, stunned. In French, she said something to her friends, and you heard “Star” and “Korea,” and they left the room to get some fresh air. Ju-bin told you they were just going to have a juice across the street and would return as soon as you messaged them.

It was just you and Seunghyun now. Again. He crouched between the fabrics, took your face in his hands, and with eyes filled with concern, he whispered, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Are you okay? Dong-hyun told me that Soo-yeon is a bit impulsive and that he was worried about the task she gave you, but she refused to disclose it. He managed to convince her by saying it was because... because I’m your boyfriend and that you needed me.”

You stopped crying, sniffled.

“Is that true? You came for me?”

He released your face and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m always here for you.”

Then he pulled away again, grabbing your shoulders.

“So? What’s going on?”

You briefly explained Soo-yeon’s crazy plan and how you also wanted to make dresses for the four bridesmaids.

“Ahh,” he exhaled. “You’re always so energetic. Is there a reason you jumped in so quickly?”

So so understanding. Never blaming you. Always trying to understand you. Through your blurred eyes, you mumbled something.

“Hm? I didn’t hear.”

“Because I never succeed at anything. My sketches were stolen, I fail at everything. And you... you’re always succeeding at everything. I’m ashamed.”

His eyes lit up, and he squeezed your palm without responding.

He was smiling. He had forgotten the night before, and even if what he was doing didn’t seem the most acceptable with a girlfriend, you didn’t care right now. You needed him, you needed your friend first.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

He pulled you to your feet.

“We’re going to make these dresses. You’re going to crush it, okay, Dalsae?”

You nodded timidly. He went to fetch the girls from the café, and you started again. It was approaching two-thirty, and you worked harder, sewing, the girls sewing, not a sound except Seunghyun’s intermittent whistling. Ju-bin stuck close to his heels while maintaining a respectful distance, but she was so excited she worked twice as fast. They cut, followed all your orders, and Seunghyun had a blast with the fabrics and their assembly.

You were happy. Excited, you loved sewing, and felt like an actual seamstress with her workers.

You didn't know how it happened. At one point, you were sewing, and the other, you were sprawled out on the floor laying between the crumpled clothes, snoring, Seunghyun's arm around your shoulder. The girls dozed off on their work tables, seeing you resting, and you only woke up when from the workshop's transparent window rays of sunshine filtered and you heard birds singing. You rose, shook Seunghyun who mumbled in his sleep as he rubbed his eyes.

"Come back," he whined, trying to grab your waist and drag you down.

You resisted, face burning. The girls were sleeping and you did not need them just yet, you let them dream a bit longer. It was approximately five AM.

Naturally, you went back to sewing. You chose simple designs, even though the end result seemed intricate, it was patterns you were used to doing, and it only needed some stitches to put everything together. Your fingers moved quickly, you added the tiny pearls, the bridesmaid's dresses were easy, as the fabric had already a design on itself.

The girls woke up, everyone went back to work quickly, and Seunghyun tried to help as much as he could. At one point, he gave instructions to the girls and grabbed you as you were complaining, dragging you out of the shop. He bought you a juice and a pastry and forced you to eat.

"Thank you," you finally said.

He only smiled. Your heart fluttered. This. Just this smile. You could do with it for the rest of your life.

You went back to the workshop, drew some adjustments, sewed for a few more hours. You were not aware it was humanly possible to sew five full dresses in forty hours, no matter how easy the design was. But within all this exhaustion, you recognised passion. You were happy and felt satisfied.

Thank you Seunghyun for forcing you to enroll in fashion school.

You added some pearls, cut some pieces, sewed the zipper.

Around six-forty, you shouted.

“STOP. DROP EVERYTHING.”

Eyes wide, they dropped everything onto the disordered work tables.

“STOP. We need to try on the dress. We need Soo-yeon. We can’t continue without the exact measurements.”

Seunghyun scratched the back of his head, ran to get your phone, and Ju-bin handed him the paper with Soo-yeon’s number. He dialed.

The phone rang four times. Five. Six.

“The number you’ve dialed is not reachable. Please leave a message after the beep.”

“Shit! Call back.”

You waited nervously, fingers tapping on your worktable, legs crossed on your rolling chair as you rocked back and forth. Seunghyun complied immediately and dialed again. Same result.

“Dong-hyun?”

You bit your nail, but Seunghyun had moved closer to you and held your hand in his free palm, shaking his head, the phone pressed to his ear. It rang.

“Yes?”

A small voice. Frowning, he nodded. The call lasted mere seconds.

“Ah. Shit. Okay, thanks. Yeah, see you.”

He hung up. He looked at you, biting his lower lip, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

“Soo-yeon is missing. He doesn’t know where she is and suspects she won’t return until the wedding. She’s unreachable.”

Oh no, no, no!

The ultimate failure for a designer is to create a perfect outfit that doesn’t fit the body. Because a garment is just fabric if it isn’t worn. DIANE would notice the slightest slip! The bridesmaids’ dresses had a belt that made them one-size-fits-all, the fabric would wear differently on each one but would fit perfectly on all. But the bride!

“We’re screwed!”

You put your head in your hands, on the verge of breaking down. Seunghyun crouched down, one hand on your shoulder, tapping to calm you.

“We can still...”

“I know.”

One of the girls stepped forward, Valentine, you think, speaking in English.

“Miss Soo-yeon is a bit like you.”

You removed your hands and wiped your tears.

“Like me?”

She nodded. Ju-bin agreed, the other girls stood up too.

“Yes! Almost the same body!”

You lowered your head, looked at your arms, legs, and hips. It was true. She was a few centimeters taller, but your bodies were similar.

“You mean I...”

“Yes! Try on the dress!”

The girls flittered around you. Seunghyun had stood up, arms crossed, but he gave you a half-smile of encouragement. He was the only one that mattered. With his mouth, he silently said "do it."

So, you nodded.

You pulled the girls into the next room, full of mirrors, needles in their mouths. Then you undressed, looked at your reflection in the mirror. Yes, it should work. The girls helped you bend over and thread the needle, it slipped, falling to the floor, caressing your shoulders and curves.

They zipped you up, adjusted the buttons, the bust, and finally, you dared to turn toward the mirror. Without realizing, the elastic in your hair had slipped. The strands cascaded down your shoulders. You called one of the girls.

“Hey Val, pull it over there!”

Valentine pulled, you bit a needle and slipped it to tighten toward your shoulder, did the same at the waist, and finally observed the result. It could work. Should.

“Can I come in?” Seunghyun asked.

“One second!”

You placed the veil on the top of your head, letting it fall over your face, then turned around. The latch clicked. The girls giggled as they slipped into the adjacent room.

Seunghyun froze.

The dress was simple - time constraint - the fabric was the main focus, reminiscent of the skin of a wet swan. Pleated, it flowed into a mermaid tail before breaking into an opening and a pool of white silk. Tiny jewels adorned the bodice, and the dress had no sleeves. Your face was veiled. The bride was supposed to wear gloves too, that you hadn't time to retrieve yet.

He buried his face in his hands.

"Don’t do this to me," he pleaded. His voice trembled, feverish, low. He pressed his back against the door, not daring to look at you again. You moved toward him, avoiding the needles poking your ribs, pushing his hands away as you cradled his face.

"Hyun? What is it?"

He didn’t resist your fingers, his body limp as his arms dropped to your sides. His face burned as he pointed a finger at the veil but didn’t dare touch you.

"If the dress doesn't please DIANE, horses can fly," he murmured.

You chuckled. So close to him, your body pressed against the door, surrendering to his embrace, melting into his arms.

"Oh yeah? And do you like it?" you whispered back, lips mere centimeters from his, separated only by the white fabric.

He nodded silently. Then, delicately, he tilted his head. Your noses brushed, his eyes fixed on your lips, which he caressed with his thumb beneath the forbidden fabric. Tilting his finger to lift it, he whispered,

"That guy from the airport, your French boyfriend, is he okay with us doing this?"

You didn’t fully hear him, leaning in closer, muttering something before realising,

"What guy, what boyfriend? I-"

"HEY! I’m SORRY!"

The door flung open. Soo-yeon was looking for you, the girls emerged from their hiding place, and the workshop filled. Seunghyun watched you, his heart unsteady. Then, he stepped back, his face flushed.

"We’ll meet at the wedding," he declared.

You heard nothing but the frantic beating of your heart.

☽

Soo-yeon was at the hairdresser’s and returned, bouncing with excitement, with the other bridesmaids. You took off the dress, and the young girls helped them get dressed. The bridesmaids twirled in their raspberry pleated dresses, giving the effect of a rose. You made the final adjustments before being dismissed to prepare, receiving two more loud and rosy kisses from Soo-yeon. She was over the moon.

You ran to the hotel, the dress tucked under your arm. You had forty minutes to shower, do your makeup, and get ready, you wanted to be perfect too.

Then, on your bed, you found a paper and a velvet box. Frowning, you plopped onto the mattress and grabbed it, examining the wine-red box that felt soft in your palm.

Heart pounding, you slowly opening it.

Inside was a shell pearl brooch. Mouth agape with surprise, you delicately took it out. It was heavy, you could feel it in your hand. It was real, it matched perfectly with the bridesmaids' dresses' pearls that you had sewed earlier.

You gently placed the brooch back in its compartment, and, fingers shaking, grabbed the small note, eyes scanning over the familiar handwriting.

"Dalsae, the bravest birds are those who fly at night. You carry within you all the rays of the Moon."

If you didn't have a wedding to attend, you might have collapsed right there and here and grinned like a teenager with a crush all night.

☽

Down in the lobby, you found Benoit. He greeted you with open arms, kissed you again. You were tired of kisses that evening.

"Woah, splendid!" he declared. "Very pretty and-"

A shadow made him stop mid-sentence.

"Wooo, airport guy!"

You turned. Your breath hitched. Seunghyun was wearing a black suit, black tie over a white shirt, his hair tousled elegantly. His dimple still left an adorable mark on his cheek, you wanted to bite him.

But he frowned. "We need to go. We can’t be late."

"Yes, I’ll take her!"

Benoit started pulling you, but Seunghyun grabbed your arm.

"No, I’m taking her with me."

Benoit let go of you and gave a surprised glance from him to you, then from you to him. "Well, I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a girlfriend to meet. She's waiting in my car."

"A girlfriend?"

Seunghyun’s eyes suddenly seemed less hard. He even smiled, a smile that stretched from one ear to the other.

"Oh really? Can you drop us off with you?"

What's with the sudden change?

"Ouais, if you want. We’ll have to squeeze," he shrugged. "Come on, let’s go!"

You shot Seunghyun a glare at his rudeness, but he grinned at you, unfazed. You pinched his arm once you were sitting on the cracked leather of Benoit’s car, all crowded together shoulder to shoulder while Benoit cranked up some French rock, singing loudly with his girlfriend.

"Well, what?" he asked.

"Well, nothing?"

You made a face, and he grabbed your wrist as you tried to pinch him again. The two lovebirds ignored you, making out at every red light.

"Well, yes. You’re as red as a tomato."

He smirked. But where did this sudden ease and shyness come from? What a brat! The Seunghyun of your youth was back, teasing and mischievous.

"Eyes on the road," he scolded. "You’re distracting me."

You tapped his shoulder gently, and he laughed. Then, you let yourself melt into your seat as you approached the Arc de Triomphe, where the ceremony would begin. Dong-hyun would have preferred Montparnasse, but you had learned, at your own expense, the impulsiveness of his fiancée.

"The brooch suits you so well," Seunghyun suddenly murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You shivered, brushed it away with a finger on your lips, but he smiled. "Dalsae."

He was there. Just him and you.

☽

The ceremony began with fireworks. Literally. Soo-yeon wasn’t necessarily rich, but she was a spender. “The last white dress we wear won’t have pockets,” she said, laughing.

In fact, she laughed a lot. All evening.

When Dong-hyun took her hand, he greeted Seunghyun and you, casting you an apologetic glance. He loved you two as a couple, after all, he was one of the reasons it ever worked out.

Later at night, you handed each of the of the teenagers a barrette, sewn at the very end, as a thank you, which they loved.

The bridesmaids were glowing. Passersby whistled, jumped, sang along with you, throwing confetti, and then the group walked toward the Eiffel Tower, where the next part would take place.

Throughout it all, Seunghyun stayed near you, silent. He had given Ju-bin an autograph and even one of his keychains, and she was overflowing with joy.

Soo-yeon was stunning. The most beautiful, a graceful swan with her hair styled in a pink bun. People couldn’t stop praising the dresses. Then, as you neared the Eiffel Tower, you suddenly felt your pulse quicken.

“Hyun…”

He turned to you.

“Hm?”

“The wedding… we’re doing it underneath, aren’t we?”

He looked up. Stared into the your pupils that pulsed with fear.

“Oh.”

Your eyes burned. You felt the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “Down there, right?” You pointed under the Eiffel tower. You were hoping that he wouldn't tell you you had to go up.

He took your hand. “Do you remember the Ferris wheel?”

You nodded, sniffling.

“Yeah… but…”

The first guests boarded the elevator - Dong-hyun, his wife, and then the rest of the guests gradually. There were some famous faces, but DIANE was still nowhere to be seen.

Seunghyun took your hand, briefly stepped away from the crowd, and you found yourselves in a secluded, dim alley. A stray cat ran away.

“Do you remember what I told you?”

You nodded.

“The bravest birds are the ones who fly at night. And you…” He kissed the edge of your fingers. “You are my moon bird. You can do anything”

Feverish, you shook your head, your hair suddenly cold against your shoulders, tears falling.

“Stop that! When you do this, I feel like we could try again!” you cried.

He let go of you for a moment, surprised. “But I-”

“No! Stop!”

You pushed him away and ran out of the alley. “You are bad! How dare you do that to your girlfriend?!”

You exited the alley, and he chased after you, grabbing your wrist, but you pulled away.

“Let go of me! You can’t do this to me! All these years I…”

Unconsciously, you followed him. He walked backward, and you entered the elevator without realising. Your shoulder hit the glass, and the doors closed, but you were alone, and your ears were ringing. You released all your anger.

“I can’t take it anymore!” you cried again. “I never wanted to leave you! Damn it, I loved you so much…”

He said nothing, just watched you with a calm face, slightly tilted as if to better listen, thoughtful.

“All those years away from you, it was torture,” you sobbed. “Every night, I thought you were there. That you’d come back. That it wasn’t really over.”

You wiped your eyes with your wrist.

“We never really left each other, did we?”

Your teary eyes lifted to meet his. He bit his lower lip, looked at you with all the words stuck in his throat. Taking one step toward you, he gazed at you in a way that made your heart flutter like it never had before. Under his eyelashes, his eyes shone like a constellation.

He lifted a hand, caressing your face with his index. And he leaned in, stopping just before your lips touched.

“There was never anyone else but you.”

You dropped your handbag to the floor and wrapped your arms in one swift movement around his neck. Finally.

You were so dizzy. The distance was infinite.

No more distance. Only the truth. You crashed your lips together. Seven years without feeling that escape.

He tightened his grip around your waist, his hand moving over your hips, the back of your head, your hair, just like on that Ferris wheel and that very first kiss of an intoxicating first love.

He didn’t pull away, breathless, until you felt the cool air on your bare shoulders and the sound of a door opening.

You had reached the top.

Seunghyun was there.

And you felt relaxed.

Seunghyun's lips stretched into a proud grin as he squeezed your hand. You blushed furiously. That was his plan all along?

The terrace was cold. Seunghyun removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, then kissed your hair. Hand in hand, you walked toward your group of friends. You recognized a few old classmates, chatted, and avoided looking near the barriers, but you felt content. Benoit chuckled when he found out Seunghyun had thought you were his girlfriend.

“No thanks, I like mine too much.”

He kissed her passionately. The terrace was decorated with white petals and arches. Benoit went on stage, and a troupe arrived, setting up a piano, and light music filled the air.

A slow song.

Seunghyun extended his hand. He invited you to dance.

His arm wrapped around your waist, your hands around his neck, trembling, you were eighteen again and the boy whose hand you dreamed of holding made you swirl in your room.

You melted into his arms, and together, you began to move to the intoxicating rhythm of the instruments. The air became pleasant. Seunghyun smelled good. The house. Your life, your youth, growing up. You wanted a life with this man.

He let you rest against his chest where his heart beat. Years ago, when, even though you two were official, you came home to red balloons and him in a suit holding a bouquet of red roses for your two-years anniversary. Your parents were smiling proudly, they loved him like a son. You had run to him, hurling yourself into his arms while your heart was threatening to break through your chest.

And when he invited you to your first dance in the living room, interlacing your fingers, whispering in your ear how beautiful you were. How familiar he smelled.

How you had told yourself that this was home.

Home was here. It had always been.

You pulled away slightly, watched him, chin resting on his chest. He looked down too, smiling softly, before leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

You could do with that, this as your home for the rest of your life.

The music stopped, you still hadn't time to separate, when a hand tapped your shoulder.

Looking behind you, fingers still in Seunghyun's hand, you saw a woman with a slicked bun.

"I was told you created... these pieces?"

The woman pointed with her long, manicured fingers at the dresses, all of them your creations. Soo-yeon watched you from afar, giving you a friendly wave and a wink. You blushed.

"I... Yes?"

The woman smiled slyly.

"It’s awful."

You froze, and Seunghyun shot her a dark look, starting to pull you away, but a small laugh, reminiscent of a cat's purr, cut through the air.

"Awful that we didn’t meet sooner!"

Your eyes widened.

"I am DIANE."

She was there, her face stern yet not too wrinkled, eyes like a lynx’s, lips tight. She extended a hand toward you.

"I’m looking for apprentices. Here, in Paris."

Seunghyun’s hand never left yours, tightening around it, encouraging you to listen.

"I’ve been told you’re quick and efficient, but I don’t take that on faith. I’m offering you a trial period. We’ll cover twenty percent of your rent and give you a salary. If it works out, I’ll keep you for a year, and after we’ve created a collection together, you’ll fly on your own."

Was it a dream? Seunghyun's fingers squeezed yours. Oh.

"Can I... think about it?"

DIANE wrinkled her nose but gave a small sigh, extending her hand.

"Fine. I’ll give you my number."

You took your phone from your small bag, opened the phone app. She sighed when you took too long, but finally, she entered her digits and handed it to you, making it ring. Then, she smirked confidently.

"See you soon."

As soon as she walked away, Seunghyun twirled you in the air. But when he let you go, you bit your lower lip.

"What’s wrong? You should be jumping for joy!"

You burst into tears again, wrapping yourself in his arms.

"I don’t want to leave! I want to be with you! But I also want to try!"

He remained thoughtful for a moment, then took your hand and played with each of your fingers for a while before letting your hand fall. "We had problems," he repeated. "With the group. Big Bang."

You tilted your head. "And?"

His gaze darkened. "It’s probably the end."

You held him tight, worried. "Really? And so what?" you asked, your voice trembling against his chest.

He pulled back slightly to see your face, placed a quick kiss on your forehead. "We can try. A year."

You took a moment to understand. A what? A year of-

"You mean-"

He nodded. "I need a long vacation, time to rebuild myself before rapping again. And you need this opportunity. So, maybe..."

You let go of everything you were holding, crashed your lips to his, pulled back feverishly, then kissed him again.

"Yes!" You exclaimed. "A thousand times yes! I’m so happy, I..."

You looked at him tenderly, and he too leaned in. The world felt gentle.

"I love you," you whispered. "I love you so so so so much, Seunghyun. I’ve always loved you."

He smiled and kissed you again.

"Me too. I love you," he caught your hand, palm to the sky, and closed each fingers one by one, starting with the thumb, "a little", then your index finger, "a lot", then your middle finger, "passionately", then your ring finger, "madly". Then your pinky.

You pouted. "Hey, the last one is 'not at all'!"

He laughed, kissed you. "No, the last one, it’s both of us, forever. Madly, passionately."

The moon shone high.

"Because you are my Moonbird. A fragment of happiness."

His lips found yours again.

"Forever."

You smiled.

Yeah. This was home. You could do with that.

if you read until there hiii ily! please lmk what you think <3 I hope you have enjoyed it! (it's very much a rom-com atp😭)

also my divider doesn't exist rendered. pain

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