#this is getting long i think i should shut up now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luxerians · 2 days ago

Text

The Last Mask (08)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 08 - Distance

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 09

PREV : Chapter 07

The dormitory buzzed with the sounds of light chatter and footsteps as players moved about, their voices mingling in an uneasy hum. You lay on your bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, eyes closed in a futile attempt to block it all out. Sleep was your goal, to escape the heavy thoughts weighing on your mind, even if just until tomorrow.

The faint voice of a guard announcing that dinner would soon be distributed echoed in the background, breaking through your quiet cocoon. Then, the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. You didn’t bother to open your eyes.

“[Your name], are you okay?” Dae-ho’s familiar voice called gently.

You kept your eyes shut. “I’m okay.”

Dae-ho sighed as well, the sound carrying his frustration. “I’m disappointed too. Jung-bae voting for O? I didn’t see that coming. I felt like screaming, ‘Sir, what are you thinking?’ at him. He agreed with us to vote for going back home just moments before the vote.”

“It can’t be helped,” another voice chimed in. You recognized it immediately as Young-il. It seemed Dae-ho wasn’t the only one who had come to check on you. Keeping your eyes closed, you listened as Young-il added, “People tend to change their minds once they’re standing at the voting counter.”

“Yeah, in a way, I kind of understood him. Because I felt that way too by the counter,” Dae-ho agreed.

A softer voice joined the conversation.

“Big sis, are you okay?” Jun-hee asked.

You finally opened your eyes, taking in the sight of Dae-ho and Jun-hee standing on the right side of your bed while Young-il lingered quietly on the left.

Turning your gaze to Jun-hee, you offered her a faint but reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”

“And we have a pregnant lady too,” Dae-ho continued, picking up where he left off. “She shouldn’t be here any longer.”

He leaned against the pillar of your bunk bed, sighing heavily. “I understood him but… what was Jung-bae thinking?”

The weight on your bed shifted slightly. You glanced down to see Young-il sitting on your bed at the far corner near your feet. His calm demeanor radiated reassurance as he addressed Dae-ho. “There’s no use thinking about it now. The votes are done. Let’s focus on staying together and winning the game again tomorrow.”

The three of them glanced in the same direction, momentarily distracted. You were about to close your eyes again when Dae-ho straightened up, his usual energy returning as he turned to you.

“Everyone is lining up to get dinner. Come on,” he said.

You shifted onto your side, pulling the blanket closer. “You guys go on ahead. I’m too tired right now.”

Dae-ho frowned, his tone firm. “You can’t sleep on an empty stomach. You need to eat. We did the hexathlon for who knows how long and didn’t even get breakfast. You must be starving, so come on.”

“But I’m so tired,” you admitted, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I just want to rest before the next game.”

“Don’t be like that,” he urged. “You’ll end up weak and all skinny tomorrow.”

A brief silence fell before you quipped, “I’m trying to go on a diet anyway, so it’s fine.”

Dae-ho scoffed, waving off your excuse. “Haih, you look beautiful already. Now get up-”

“It’s okay,” Young-il’s calm voice interrupted unexpectedly. “You two go on ahead. The queues are getting long. I’ll persuade her.”

The sound of retreating footsteps followed as Dae-ho and Jun-hee headed off toward the dinner queues. The dormitory buzzed with chatter and movement, but your focus remained on the quiet presence sitting at the edge of your bed.

“You really should eat,” he said after a moment, his tone gentle. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

You sighed, not turning to face him. “I’m just so done to even think about food. I wanted to go home really bad but we were outvoted.”

There was a pause before the bed shifted as Young-il stood up. His footsteps faded into the background, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the strange ache in your chest – a pang of something like abandonment. By him.

You immediately shook off the thought. It wasn’t his fault. You were the one adamant about not eating, and he had respected your decision. You had no right to feel upset, and you certainly couldn’t blame him for the fact that you had a crush on him.

Maybe he just saw you as a friend. Someone to look out for, like Jun-hee. Nothing more. It was your own fault for letting your feelings get in the way, for reading into his kind gestures as something more than they were.

You tried to tune out the chatter and bustle of the dormitory, sinking into the quiet within your mind. For a fleeting moment, you felt yourself drifting close to sleep.

Then his voice broke through the haze. “[Your name].”

Your eyes fluttered open, the sting of fatigue making them ache. You turned your head and saw Young-il standing by your bed. In his hands, he held the evening’s dinner: a round bun and a small carton of milk.

You frowned, confusion overtaking your grogginess. You had thought he left for good after respecting your persistence.

Resting your cheek against the pillow, you mumbled, “I don’t want to eat your dinner. Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s not mine,” he said, his tone even. “It’s yours.”

Your gaze shifted to the food in his hands. He held two sets of the dinner: two buns and two cartons of milk. Surprise overtook you as you sat up slowly, your blanket slipping down. “You got two?”

“I took another set on your behalf,” he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Your eyes widened. “We can do that?”

His smile grew, and there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t.”

You blinked, completely perplexed. “Then how did you get two?”

He extended the dinner toward you again, waiting patiently.

“I know what to say to the guards. My line of work taught me how,” he said simply, leaving the specifics a mystery.

You stared at him, caught between disbelief and reluctant admiration, before reaching out to take the meal he had gone out of his way to bring you.

“Now, come,” Young-il said, gesturing toward the corner where you always hung out with Gi-hun and the others. “Let’s sit with the others.”

You glanced down at the bun and carton of milk in your hands before nodding. As you got up from the bed, you spoke to him, “But is this really all we’re getting for dinner? I thought it’d be as much as yesterday’s lunch.”

Walking side by side toward the corner, Young-il replied, “It’s a way to weaken the players and increase eliminations.”

You turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you saying the longer we stay here, the less food we’ll get?”

Young-il met your gaze, his expression thoughtful. “It looks that way. Yesterday, we had a bountiful lunch. Tonight, it’s just a bun. The pattern isn’t hard to see.”

You sighed in frustration, the weight of his words settling in. “That makes it even more important to leave this place as soon as possible.”

Reaching the corner, you were greeted enthusiastically by Dae-ho. “You two, come sit down!”

Gi-hun had sat at his usual spot at the far end, and you settled down beside him. Young-il took the place on your other side. Dae-ho and Jun-hee were already seated on the lower steps in front of you both, their postures relaxed.

You glanced around and noticed that your group was missing one member – Jung-bae. A small distance away, you spotted him tucked between the bunk beds as though he was deliberately hiding.

You assumed he felt guilty for voting O, isolating himself from the group out of shame.

You and Young-il began eating your buns in silence. Everyone in your group was eating, except for Gi-hun. His posture – legs wide, arms resting heavily on his knees – spoke volumes about his disappointment over the recent voting results.

A loud sigh from Dae-ho broke the quiet. He stared at Jung-bae’s back for a moment, chewing on his bun, before calling out to him with the familiar hyungnim honorific. “Jung-bae!”

Meanwhile, you sighed at the meager dinner, placing your left elbow on your knee and resting your forehead against your palm. Your right hand held the bun, and you murmured, “Just this bun alone won’t be enough.”

Dae-ho suddenly stood and strode over to Jung-bae. “Hey, just come back here.”

“No, no, I’m good here,” Jung-bae replied, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, come on,” Dae-ho said, grasping his arm firmly. He pulled Jung-bae to his feet and dragged him back to the group. “You should’ve gone farther away, then. It bugs me seeing you sitting there all pathetic.”

Jung-bae froze when they reached the group. His eyes darted between the three most visibly stressed members of the group – Gi-hun with his somber stance, you with your hand still resting on your face, and Young-il sitting with his legs spread, elbows on his knees, chewing silently. None of you looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” Jung-bae said, fidgeting nervously with his milk carton. “Jun-hee, [Your name], Young-il, I’m sorry. Gi-hun, I’m sorry.”

When no one responded, he continued. “I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle my debt. So-”

“Jung-bae,” Young-il interrupted, his tone calm. “You of all people shouldn’t have done it. It’s not twice as righteous.”

Young-il’s comment was a pointed reference to the meaning of Jung-bae’s name. You removed your hand from your face, took a bite of the bun, and stayed quiet.

Young-il sighed, glancing briefly at the others before adding, “But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted.”

“Right?” Jung-bae said quickly, leaning toward Young-il with a glimmer of relief. “It’s not entirely my fault.”

Dae-ho placed a hand on Jung-bae’s shoulder, his tone lighter now. “Alright, to be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn’t enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game.”

Jung-bae’s face lit up with sudden relief, and before anyone could react, he lunged forward and hugged Dae-ho head-on. Startled, Dae-ho awkwardly tried to push him away.

“You did?” Jung-bae exclaimed.

“I said I get it,” Dae-ho replied, finally managing to pry himself free.

Jung-bae turned to Young-il, sighing deeply.

“Thank you for understanding,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. He settled on the lower staircase next to Young-il and continued, “But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn’t we? If we stick together one more time, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

He turned toward Jun-hee, his voice brimming with confidence. “Jun-hee, I’ll make sure we survive the next game-”

“The next game?”

All of you froze and looked at Gi-hun. His tone was dark. “In the next game, we might have to kill each other.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. You stared at him, horrified. Could it really come to that? Could there be games where you’d have to compete against your friends? The thought made your stomach churn. You’d barely eaten, and now even the bun in your hand felt like a weight.

Young-il’s calm voice broke the silence. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. There’s nothing we can do now, so let’s try to stay positive.”

Despite his attempt to ease the tension, Jung-bae had gone pale as well. He swallowed nervously, his hands fidgeting with his milk carton.

Young-il continued, his voice steady, “We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again.”

But Gi-hun’s words lingered, casting a shadow over the group. Everyone, including you, sat in heavy silence, lost in their thoughts. The idea of being pitted against your teammates felt unbearable. Your appetite vanished completely, and the bun in your hand now seemed like an impossible task to finish.

Could Gi-hun have experienced such a game in his previous run? Had he been forced to turn on a friend here? The questions swirled in your mind, filling you with dread.

Then you felt it – a hand gently resting on your knee. Startled, you looked down and saw Young-il’s hand. When you glanced up at him, his expression was warm and reassuring. He gave you a small nod toward your unfinished bun and said softly, “Eat it whole. Let’s do our best again tomorrow.”

Young-il withdrew his hand from your knee and held out his milk carton to Jun-hee. “Here, Jun-hee. You can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game.”

Jun-hee hesitated. “No, it’s okay.”

“Take it,” Young-il insisted gently. “I don’t drink plain milk.”

After a moment, Jun-hee finally accepted the milk, though her reluctance was still evident. You couldn’t help but smile warmly at the gesture. The way Young-il looked after Jun-hee was heartwarming. He must’ve been a good husband, you thought.

“Thank you,” Jun-hee said softly.

Jung-bae suddenly held out his bun to her. “Have my bread too. I don’t deserve to eat.”

Dae-ho immediately pointed at Jung-bae’s milk. “I’ll take your milk then.”

Jung-bae shot him a pointed stare, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and annoyance.

You had just exited the women’s restrooms and stepped back into the dormitory when you saw them. Lingering near the door that connected the restroom to the dormitory stood Lee Min-jae and his two friends.

Min-jae noticed you immediately and waved. You hesitated for a moment before offering a small, uncertain wave in return. Hoping to avoid further interaction, you continued toward the corner where the rest of your group was seated.

However, your heart sank when Min-jae and his friends moved deliberately to block your path. The dormitory was vast, filled with hundreds of players, so you didn’t feel afraid. Still, you silently hoped they wouldn’t press you again.

Min-jae greeted you with a bright smile. “Hey there. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh,” you replied, feigning innocence. “Hi, Min-jae.”

He stepped slightly closer, his tone friendly. “So, are you free to hang out with us now? We’ve got a spot over there.”

He paused, gesturing vaguely toward a corner of the dormitory where his group had set up.

You hesitated, searching for a way out without offending him. “I… uh, I need to get back to my group first. They’re waiting for me.”

Min-jae’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. “It’ll just be for a little while. You can catch up with them later. Come on, I just want to get to know you better in a private spot.”

“I… I don’t know. I really should-”

Min-jae’s tone grew firmer, though he kept up his friendly demeanor. “Don’t be like that. Just for a bit. It’s just us hanging out. No harm, right?”

Min-jae’s friends were watching you intently, though their expressions remained neutral. You forced a polite smile, knowing that one wrong word or tone could create a vengeful enemy in this precarious game.

You said carefully. “Maybe later. I just need to check on my group first.”

But Min-jae’s grin didn’t waver. If anything, it grew more hardened and insistent as he stepped closer to you. “Please? Just a quick chat with us. You’ve been hanging out with those uncles all day. Switch it up for a bit.”

Before you could respond, one of his friends – the tall man with number 277 – joined in. “Yeah, come on. We’re not asking for much. Just a little time to get to know you better.”

“Exactly,” chimed in the other friend, player 304. “It’s not like we’re asking you to stay forever. Just stop by. We’ve got a good spot over there.”

Their persistence made your chest tighten. You forced another smile, trying to remain composed. “I appreciate the offer, but really, I need to get back. Maybe another time.”

“Why not now?” Min-jae pressed, his tone still friendly.

As you searched for another polite excuse, a cold, steady voice cut through the conversation.

“She said no.”

You turned quickly, your eyes landing on Young-il. He was striding toward you. His gaze was fixed on Min-jae, sharp and unyielding. Although his expression seemed calm, a quiet intensity simmered beneath the surface. The restrained fury in his eyes made you speechless. It’s like he was ready to act the moment it became necessary.

Min-jae’s smile faltered slightly, though he tried to recover. “Oh, hey. We just want to have a chat with her. It's okay, right?”

Young-il moved deliberately, stepping between you and Min-jae with an air of quiet authority. His back faced you, shielding you from them. Though his expression remained calm, there was a palpable edge to his presence that made the air feel heavier.

“You’re pressuring her,” he said evenly, his voice carrying a subtle warning. “That’s not how conversations work.”

Silence settled over the group like a heavy weight. Min-jae’s friends exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier confidence clearly shaken.

You couldn’t help but stare at Young-il’s broad shoulders, struck by the way he carried himself. He didn’t need to raise his voice or show aggression; the calm intensity in his posture spoke volumes.

Min-jae hesitated, his expression flickering between defiance and calculation, before forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. With a mock gesture of surrender, he raised his hands and said, “Alright, alright. I get it. I apologize. I didn’t realize I was being forceful.”

His attempt to glance past Young-il toward you betrayed his unease, though. He called your name softly, adding, “Sorry about that.”

Young-il held his gaze, the silence stretching as he stared at Min-jae with deliberate calm. Then, with a slight turn of his head, his expression softened as he looked at you. He gestured subtly, his voice steady. “Let’s go.”

You followed Young-il as he led the way back to the corner where your group had gathered. His stride was steady, and though he didn’t say anything, his presence alone made you feel a little more at ease. You glanced back briefly to check if Min-jae and his friends were following, but they were nowhere in sight, already lost in the dormitory’s usual buzz of activity.

Just as the two of you were about to reach your group, Young-il gently grasped your forearm, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”

His gaze lingered on you, his tone shifting slightly as he asked, “How does he know your name?”

There was an edge to his words, though it didn’t feel like it was directed at you.

“He asked during the voting earlier,” you explained simply. “We were in the crowd, and he came over and introduced himself.”

Young-il’s eyes studied yours, moving from your left eye to your right, then briefly to your lips. You froze under the intensity of his gaze, unsure of what to make of it. After a few seconds that felt much longer, his focus shifted back to your left eye.

He finally lowered his gaze and said firmly, “If those boys bother you again, tell me.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. His gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, and you felt that familiar flutter in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach. He is really worried about you.

But even as you stood there, you couldn’t forget the fact that he was married. As close as you two had become, he’d never once mentioned it to you.

You averted your gaze, creating a small but deliberate space between you and Young-il.

“Thanks, but don’t worry. I can take care of myself,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. The pause lingered, and though you didn’t look his way, you could feel his confusion, as if he was trying to make sense of your sudden distance. Without waiting for a reply, you joined the group, sliding into the spot next to Jun-hee. Behind you, Young-il remained standing, silent and likely still perplexed.

As the group fell into casual conversation, you focused on Jun-hee, Jung-bae and Dae-ho, purposefully keeping your interactions away from Young-il. Whenever he made a comment directed at you or tried to reassure you about something, you responded with a polite smile but didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, you turned your attention to someone else, engaging them in light talk to avoid any further connection.

This is for the best. For you, for him, and for his wife.

“Lights out in ten minutes,” the announcer informed, the voice echoing through the dormitory. “Please prepare for bedtime.”

Your group was in the middle of executing Gi-hun’s plan. The idea was to claim four beds in one spot to create a secure sleeping area underneath the beds and on the floor between them. Everyone had agreed to the plan, though not without a few questions.

The men were handling the heavier tasks, carrying and arranging the mattresses and securing the area, while you and Jun-hee carried pillows and blankets, standing off to the side as they worked.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there,” Jung-bae said, his tone doubtful.

Gi-hun explained, “Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.”

Dae-ho, crouching beside Jun-hee, looked over with wide eyes. “What? Who?”

Meanwhile, Young-il approached you and gestured for the pillows and blankets in your arms. You handed them to him one by one, watching as he placed them on the mattresses.

“The prize money still goes up if we kill each other,” Gi-hun continued. “It’s part of the game they designed.”

Young-il, now standing after arranging a mattress on the floor under one of the beds, spoke up, “Gi-hun, I think you’re overreacting. Even if that were true, people wouldn’t do that.”

Gi-hun’s gaze sharpened as he stared at Young-il. “In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here.”

He stepped closer to Young-il, his tone firm. “You have no idea how people can change in this place.”

You stared at them, noticing the tension in Gi-hun’s face and posture. Young-il paused before nodding apologetically. “Alright. I guess I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m sorry.”

Gi-hun gave Young-il one last look before turning back to address the group. “We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out. I’ll take the first watch. The rest of you should decide the order.”

You exchanged glances with the others. Dae-ho was the first to speak up. “Other than that, we have to figure out who’s sleeping where.”

Jung-bae pointed to the floor between the beds. “Jun-hee should sleep here, near the wall, surrounded by beds. It’ll be safer.”

“Then I’ll take the spot under the bed beside her,” Dae-ho said, glancing at Jun-hee for confirmation. “If that’s okay with you.”

Jun-hee nodded. “I’m okay with that.”

“I’ll take the spot under the bed on the other side of Jun-hee,” Jung-bae added. “It’s best to have two ex-Marines covering your sides.”

Jun-hee smiled in response.

Young-il turned to you, his voice soft. “Which spot do you want to take?”

You paused, glancing at the arrangement before pointing to the space directly under Jun-hee. “I’ll take the middle floor.”

That left the beds on either side of you empty until Young-il spoke up. “I’ll sleep under the bed on your left. That means Gi-hun will take the one on your right.”

“Now we just have to decide the order for keeping watch,” Dae-ho said, looking around the group.

“I’ll take the second watch, after Gi-hun,” Jung-bae said quickly.

Dae-ho raised his hand. “Third watch here.”

You spoke up just as Young-il reached to grab the leftover pillows and blanket from your arms. “Can I keep watch too?”

All eyes turned to you, surprise clear on their faces.

“How about the last watch?” you added. “I can wake up early.”

Dae-ho was the first to respond. “Ladies don’t have to. You and Jun-hee should take a full rest.”

“Yeah, no need for you to worry about keeping watch,” Jung-bae chimed in. “We’ve got this.”

You hesitated, feeling their protective tone press against your resolve.

“But it’s fine if I take the last watch,” you said, lowering your gaze briefly. “I want to freshen up before the next game anyway.”

Dae-ho and Jung-bae exchanged glances, clearly about to argue, when Young-il’s calm voice cut through. “Okay, you take the last watch.”

Everyone turned to him in confusion, while you blinked at him in surprise. Young-il glanced at the others briefly before settling his gaze on you.

“I’ll take the fourth watch, after Dae-ho,” he said evenly. “Then it’s your turn. But I’ll keep watch with you. It’s not safe for you to do it alone.”

The group nodded in agreement and that was the end of discussion. You, however, stayed quiet, your thoughts swirling. Young-il’s calm decision left you unsettled. The idea of him accompanying you brought a flutter of nerves you couldn’t quite suppress. You’d been trying to create some distance, to remind yourself of his marriage. Yet here he was, volunteering to accompany you.

It left you torn. A part of you appreciated his thoughtfulness. But another part of you couldn’t shake the complicated feelings his actions stirred, leaving you wondering how you’d handle the quiet hours of your shared watch.

A few minutes passed as the six of you settled into your designated spots. The announcer’s voice broke through the murmurs in the dormitory to announce bedtime. Moments later, the lights switched off, leaving the soft golden glow of the half-filled piggy bank overhead to dimly illuminate the vast room.

Dae-ho and Jung-bae were already lying under the beds, while Jun-hee rested on the mattress positioned on the open floor between them.

“This sucks,” Jung-bae muttered from his spot. “Feels like I’m hiding under my old desk at school.”

Dae-ho chuckled softly. “Pretend it’s a fun sleepover. We’re just missing the snacks and ghost stories.”

As their quiet exchange continued, you glanced over and noticed Gi-hun was sitting at the front, keeping watch.

Then, you felt a presence close beside you. Turning your head, you saw Young-il crouched beside you on your mattress on the open floor. He paused, glancing at you apologetically as he moved to sit down.

“Sorry,” he muttered, referring to him intruding your space.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

Young-il shifted onto the edge of your mattress before sliding onto his own spot under the bed beside you. You watched as he settled in before you finally lay down and pulled the blanket over yourself.

The space felt smaller now, the awareness of his presence lingering. You never thought you’d be this close to him, sharing such confined quarters. But as the thought crossed your mind, you pushed it away quickly. He’s married. You shouldn’t let yourself think about him like this.

You closed your eyes, wishing for sleep to come quickly and pull you away from your restless thoughts.

Please feel free to leave comments and feedback about my story, the characters, the "you", and practically anything! I love reading your comments, especially long ones!

NEXT : Chapter 09

PREV : Chapter 07

Story Masterlist

I would love to know what you think so feel free to comment as long as you could!

Leave a comment on the masterlist post to be added to the taglist.

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho fanfic #in ho #the front man #player 001 #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2

151 notes · View notes

insidekatmind · 5 hours ago

Text

Secret Relationship~Pope Heyward

You stretched out on your towel, the sun warming your skin as you adjusted your sunglasses. The ocean waves crashed softly in the background, blending with the occasional laughter from JJ and Pope out in the water. Kie was next to you, eyes closed, soaking up the sun in peaceful silence.

It felt like a perfect Pogue day—until you felt cold water splatter all over you.

"Gah!" you gasped, jolting upright as droplets hit your skin. You ripped your sunglasses off, narrowing your eyes at the culprit.

Pope stood there, grinning mischievously, shaking his hair like a dog. "What? You looked like you were overheating."

"You’re dead," you threatened, grabbing your towel to swat him.

Pope laughed, easily dodging the swing. "I couldn’t resist."

Kie opened one eye and chuckled. "You two are the worst at keeping things casual."

You shot her a look. "Shut up."

Pope flopped down onto the sand beside you, his wet board shorts brushing against your leg. The heat from your tanning session was immediately replaced by his cool touch.

"How was the water?" you asked, pretending not to notice the way your heart raced when he leaned a little closer.

"Perfect," Pope said, eyes softening as he glanced at you. "You should come in next time."

"Maybe," you teased. "If someone promises not to splash me like a maniac."

JJ ran up, dropping his surfboard dramatically onto the sand. "Did I miss something? Why is she threatening to murder you, Pope?"

"Because he—"

Before you could finish, Pope shot you a warning look, and you bit your tongue. JJ knew nothing about your relationship, and you weren’t ready for him to find out. Pope was right. If word got out that the daughter of Sheriff Shoupe was dating a Pogue, chaos would follow.

"Because he’s annoying," you finished, standing up to shake the sand off your towel.

JJ squinted at you suspiciously but shrugged it off. "Fair. Hey, you guys hungry? We could hit The Wreck."

Pope glanced at you. "What do you think?"

You hesitated. "Sure. I could eat."

---

At The Wreck…

The four of you sat at a corner booth, JJ devouring a basket of fries while Kie sipped on a lemonade. You and Pope sat across from each other, sneaking glances when no one was looking.

"So," JJ began, pointing a fry at Pope. "What’s up with you lately? You’ve been acting weird."

"Weird how?" Pope asked, trying to play it cool.

JJ shrugged. "I don’t know. Distracted. Secretive. You hiding something from us?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked down at your burger to avoid JJ’s curious gaze.

"JJ," Kie groaned, rolling her eyes. "Not everything is a conspiracy."

JJ smirked. "Maybe not, but you gotta admit—"

The sound of the doorbell interrupted him, and you froze as your dad, Sheriff Shoupe, walked in. He scanned the restaurant, his eyes narrowing when he spotted you.

"Dad," you greeted, standing up awkwardly.

"What are you doing here with them?" Shoupe asked, his tone disapproving as he eyed Pope and JJ.

"Just grabbing lunch," you said, keeping your voice steady.

Shoupe’s eyes lingered on Pope a little too long, and you saw Pope shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"I’ve got my eye on you," Shoupe warned Pope before turning to you. "We’ll talk when you get home."

With that, he left, and the tension at the table was thick.

"Well," JJ said after a beat. "That wasn’t awkward at all."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "He’s just… overprotective."

Kie gave you a knowing look but said nothing.

As soon as JJ got up to grab another drink, Pope leaned over. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "But this is exactly why we need to keep this quiet."

Pope nodded. "I get it. But we’ll figure it out, okay?"

You smiled softly, reaching under the table to squeeze his hand. "Okay."

Just then, JJ returned, plopping back down with a soda. "What’d I miss?"

"Nothing," you both said in unison.

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Sure."

He didn’t look convinced, but for now, your secret was safe.

You smile and hold his hand tighter under the table

Pope smiled back, his fingers intertwining with yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it sent a wave of warmth coursing through your body.

JJ glanced between the two of you, a little too observant for comfort, but said nothing.

The rest of the lunch was filled with casual chatter, but you felt Pope's presence keenly next to you. Every passing moment heightened your awareness of him, the secret touches and subtle glances making your heart pound louder than any conversation.

When it was time to go, Kie and JJ headed back to The Chateau, leaving you and Pope alone for a moment.

"I guess I should go," Pope said, his voice low.

"Yeah," you murmured, feeling a pang of disappointment. You didn't want to say goodbye yet.

Pope studied your face, a silent understanding passing between you. He was struggling just as much as you were.

"can I at least give you a kiss" you murmur playfully touching his shoulders

Pope's eyes darkened at your words, his hands finding your hips and pulling you closer.

"I think that's the best idea I've heard all day," he murmured back, his lips brushing against your cheek.

You tilted your head, your lips meeting in a gentle but passionate kiss. It was brief yet filled with an intensity that left you both breathless.Pope's eyes darkened at your words, his hands finding your hips and pulling you closer.

You tilted your head, your lips meeting in a gentle but passionate kiss. It was brief yet filled with an intensity that left you both breathless.

You deepened the kiss and added tongue.The kiss, once started innocently, took on a different tone as you added tongue. Pope's grip on your hips tightened, and he pulled you even closer, responding in kind.

His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head to deepen the kiss further. It was hungry, desperate, and filled with the pent-up frustration of keeping your feelings hidden.

You were both lost in the moment, the world around you fading away. His kisses trailed down your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

A part of you knew this was risky, that someone could see. But in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All that mattered was the feel of his lips on your skin and his body pressed against yours.

You moan and give him more space "god I missed this".

"Me too," he breathed, his hands tracing down your sides and settling on the curve of your hips.

The sound of your moan had sent him reeling, and he reclaimed your lips in an urgent kiss. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" Pope whispered against your mouth.

you murmured happily into the kiss, holding him tighter. at that moment jj came back and saw the scene.The sound of a wolf whistle interrupted the intimate moment, and you broke apart to find JJ smirking at you.

"Well, well," JJ said, leaning against a parked car. "What have we here?"

"shit" you whisper.Pope tensed beside you, his expression hardening as he looked at JJ. "It's not what it looks like."

JJ, however, just chuckled, enjoying the spectacle. "Really? Because to me, it looks like you two were about to get a room."

"We weren't," you protested, your cheeks flushing.

JJ raised an eyebrow, a smug grin on his face. "Oh, come on. You two have been acting weird all day, sneaking glances, giggling... Don't even try to deny it."

Pope took a step forward, his voice stern. "JJ, listen—"

But JJ interrupted him, holding up a hand. "Save it, man. I figured it out a long time ago. You're not as subtle as you think."

Your heart sank. You had been so careful, so calculated, and yet JJ had known all along?

Pope's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists.

JJ's tone softened, his smirk fading into a serious expression. "Hey, it's cool. I get it. You two like each other, and you've been tryna hide it. But secrets have a way of getting out, you know?"

You could feel the tension in the air thicken. Pope was on edge; JJ's casual attitude irked him.

Pope took a calming breath before speaking. "Yes, we've been seeing each other. But we've been keeping it quiet for a reason. If my dad finds out..."

JJ nodded understandingly. "Hey, I get it. Sheriff Shoupe ain't a fan of us pogues."

He paused, considering something before he continued. "Look, your secret is safe with me. I won't say anything."

Pope's shoulders dropped, some of the tension leaving his body. "Thanks, JJ."

"Just don't be shocked if Kie figures it out too," JJ warned with a small smile.

You groaned inwardly. Kie was observant; it wouldn't be long before she caught on too.

"Great," you muttered. "Just great."

JJ chuckled, patting you on the shoulder. "Chin up, kid. This is the Outer Banks. Nothing stays a secret for long here."

There was some truth to that. The community was tight-knit, and gossip spread like wildfire.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. JJ was right.

Pope shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his own mouth. "You're infuriating, you know that?"

JJ flashed a cocky grin. "It's part of my charm."

With that, he turned and headed back to his car. You and Pope shared a look, relief and resignation mingling in your gazes.

Once JJ had driven off, you and Pope were left alone again. The silence between you was loaded with the weight of JJ's discovery.

"So, that went well," you said with a nervous laugh.

Pope let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "As well as it could've, I suppose."

He looked at you, his eyes serious. "We need to be more careful. If JJ noticed, Kie definitely will. And your dad..."

you kiss him to reassure him .The feeling of your lips on his immediately calmed his nerves. He relaxed into the kiss, his arms encircling you in a tight embrace.

For a moment, there were no worries, no fears. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms.

107 notes · View notes

highlady-of-prythian · 1 day ago

Text

Enchanted by Starlight ── ( prologue )

SUMMARY - In a world rules by the hierarchy of Alpha's and Beta's, Avaryce is on the run - and run she does, right into the Night Court where a certain pack is in need of an Omega.

Warnings: This is my first ever story on Tumblr. Mentions of runaways and abuse, and this story includes A/B/O. Not gonna be good, so brace yourselves.

Pairings: Inner Circle x OC

---

With each step I took away from my old life, the weight of expectation and abuse suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to be my "pack" fell away, leaving only uncertainty and adrenaline in its wake. The stars blinked down on me like old companions, and I couldn't help but let out a small exhale. I was free.

I had been on the run, I suppose you could say, for the past few days. The journey long and perilous. In truth I had no idea where I was going, only that I needed to get as far away as possible from my old pack, or what was supposed to be a pack.

I sigh, slinging down my backpack ducking behind a tree. If anything this would be a good place to rest for the night. The forest had become a part of me now. It enveloped me like a mother would her child. It felt comfortable, right, in a way that was inexplainable.

I found a rock next to the stump of tree I decided to rest behind and took a seat. I grabbed the bag digging through what little bit I had. I started off with a few protein bars and water, only to now end up with half a bottle of water, and maybe a crumb or two of protein bars that would make a mouse scoff in distaste.

Seems I need to head to a town, tommorow. The thought alone made shivers run up my spine. I had been careful thus far not to run into anyone. After all, I was an Omega. One that was now packless, and alone. There's likely two things Alpha's or Beta's would do to me if spotted: take me back to my original pack, or try to mark me as their own. And we'll, neither option is viable in my opinion, especially if they're as brutal as my previous pack was to Omega's.

Since the beginning of well...forever, Alpha's were known to take an Omega and mark them as territory in packs. And since the pack I was in previously was strictly familial, I wasn't yet marked by any bonded packs as theirs. Which means I am now practically free game to any pack that wants me . . .Yay. Not.

I didn't even know which court I was near anymore. I didn't have a map or a sense of direction. I simply booked it in the middle of the night three days ago. The thought alone makes me groan in annoyance. I should have planned this better, but after a particular beating, I realized I couldn't take it anymore, that I sshouldn't.

I was not some animal to be treated so unfairly. I wouldn't sit and be caged and look pretty only to be sold off to a cruel pack to sit and bare faelings, or pups. And I wouldn't. If there was a pack that could look past me being an Omega and see me for me then I would finally think about a life settling down. But until then, I would remain packless, and alone.

My thoughts are interrupted by the growling of my stomach. "Shit." I mumbled, tiredly. I hadn't realized when I shut my eyes, or when the stars fading into nothingness above me.

---

The next morning I set back off on my journey. The winds bristled past me whipping through my strawberry blonde hair. The void in my stomach only grew, and grew. I would need to eat something soon before Ipassed out. I gulped. That's the last thing I need.

I set a faster pace forward, keeping the negative thoughts down. There wasn't time for that. It wasn't until I caught a wiff of a delectable pumpkin pie that I finally paused. The aroma of the dish made my mouth water, and oh? The scent of whipped cream filled my senses.

I was nearing a clearing, and when I finally pulled back the last bit of brush in my way, I saw it. The Night Court. Or, well, Velaris: the City of Starlight. By legs didn't care as they led me down a steep hill towards that magnificent city. Its been years since they opened the border to outsiders. It won't be a suprise to see a new face, luckily.

I saw people walking, and talking with each other, the people seemed, peaceful. Much unlike what I saw growing up. The city felt alive and refreshing. As I walked past many streets and shops, onlookers seemed to pause and look at me. Not surprising: I probably look like a mad woman looking for this pie. But I couldn't care.

Not as the scent grew nearer and nearer, until there it was. A pie, sitting on the edge of a window sill. Steam wafted off of the pastry, and my mouthed opened slightly at the sight. In front of me was a building to a art studio where I could hear the laughter and voices of children inside. No one would notice a tiny bite being gone, right? I got closer to the pie, already tasting the deliciousness when the door to the studio opens.

My eyes widen as I run to the side of the building which just so happens to be an alleyway. Praying that no one had seen me. My scent was blocked off with scentblockers, so they couldn't tell that an Omega was near. "Huh, I swear I could have heard something." A sweet melodic voice mumbles.

"Probably a stray squirrel, Fey, nothing to fear. " A soft, sweet, voice says. "Oh! I almost forgot! The pie!" I ducked further into the alley before the voice drew to close. "Can't have the kids getting to hungry, right?"

"They'll love it, Elain." The voice, "Fey" states.

"You think?" The Elain girl questions.

"I know it!" Fey exclaims. "It's so sweet that you baked it for them, they must be starving." The sympathy in her voice makes me wanna gag at the thought that I was going to eat these kids' pie. "Come on."

When the door shuts, I lean on the building with a sigh. I need to be more careful. With scentblockers I will be fine for a while, but running up to the studio and acting like a deranged female was not a part of the plan.

And now the pie is gone.

A rack of guilt flowed through me. A pie that was meant for children. A gnawed on my fist and sighed. It didn't matter. I didn't get it, anyway. No harm done, right? Wrong. Suddenly, something sharp pointed at my ribs, and I stiffen. Oh, no. I'd been caught. And now I was going back to my old pack. My face paled. I can't go back. "Turn around." A sturdy male voice said. The voice sent shivers down my spine.

He voice was like a symphony of shadows. Dark and controlled. Alluring and hypnotizing. Deep and tempting. I mentally curse. Now isn't the time to get hormonal. I obliged the mystery man, taking my time to face the man with the blade. And when I do - when I see those delectable dark eyes, and the shadows that erupted from every which way from around him, it is only then that I realize how much shit I'm in. Maybe even more so than I was before I left in the first place.

#a/b/o #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #feyre x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #morrigan x reader #nesta x reader #amren x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

bohemianblasphemy · 22 hours ago

Text

Never again.

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

A close call whilst on a hunt with the Winchesters causes a heated argument between you and the eldest brother, allowing for feelings that were squashed deep down to be bubbled up to the surface.

Contains: death mention, killing vampires, reader being choked out, canon violence, heated argument, smut, P in V sex, oral (F receiving), the knee thing, tiddy sucking, fluffy at the end ✨

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Requests are open as always xxx

It was supposed to be a simple hunt- a cluster of vampires, nothing that hadn’t been dealt with before. Hunting wasn’t something that was new or unusual for you - however you weren’t as experienced as the brothers.

Your inexperience posed as a risk in hunts, a slip up could cost you more than you bargained for and in this instance, that’s what happened.

The case blipped on Sam’s radar and thought it was a case worth solving, only being a couple of hours away from the motel you were staying at. You were called into the brother’s shared room from your seperate one, getting a run down of the creatures at hand.

“Get this- at least a dozen cows were drained of blood on this farm, but also the farmer was found in his barn with those same bite marks, drunk dry as well. Not the first time this has happened here too.” Dean grimaced at Sam’s words, audibly groaning as the images of cows invaded his brain.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his expense. “Can’t handle some dead cows now, Dean? After literally everything else you’ve ever seen?” You teased, earning a playful glare from him. “Shut up, it’s gross.” He chuckled, stealing a glance at you from across the room, admiring the way your eyes crinkled as you laughed.

Dean and yourself had this… something. Longing glances, casual brushes against each other- hugs that seemed to last a little longer than normal. Nothing was ever said or done, but there was always something there.

Sam continued, clearing his throat as he watched you two do… whatever it was that you were doing. “I think we should get in there and y’know, deal with the problem.”

In agreement, you all set out to investigate- piling into the impala for the few hour trip out west. In that time together; Sam and Dean in the passenger and drivers seat, you in the back.

Dean stole glances at you in the rear view mirror as he drove. He smiled to himself, your presence being a ray of light in his soul.

Sam smiled, eyeing his brother’s expression before clearing his throat, which he more than often did when Dean was distracted. Dean could see Sam’s mischievous smirk as he was caught staring, warranting a warning glance to not mention it to you.

Finding the hideout of these vampires was a little too easy- small town with abandoned buildings, it wasn’t hard to narrow down.

“Alright Lost Boys, cmon out.” You muttered, wondering around the secluded Cabin in the woods, the rotted floorboards creaking under you as you and the winchesters snuck around the space.

Dean smirked at your comment. “Yeah, Count Orlok better get his ass out here.” He whispered, earning snicker from you. “Guys, seriously? Not the time…” Sam was on edge, his sense heightened as your trio snuck through the building like the Scooby gang.

It wasn’t long before your presence was made known to the blood suckers; ambushing you as you descended into the dank cellar below the rotted building.

You were outnumbered- five vampires to your three. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you posed an even chance of eliminating them. Hatchets, vamponite- you name it. If it killed vampires, you had it on you.

Three were down, two more to go- you having killed Vamp number three. Sam had his hands on one, Dean was backed into a corner by the other. The being baring its ugly teeth as he attempted to bite into deans flesh- you could see a glint of fear in his eyes as he tried to hold the creature back with his bare hands.

The panic inside your body settled in, without hesitation you had lunged yourself at the vampire to throw it off balance, weapon at the ready- giving Dean enough time to move.

It was then as the creature turned around and dodged the swing of your machete, taking the opportunity of your moment of weakness as you recovered from the swing to grab you by the throat, pressing your body against the hard surface of the concrete flooring.

The deafening screech of the disgraceful creature rang in your ear. Its grip on your throat constricted your airways, watching you squirm and try to release yourself from its strength but it was no use.

Your breaths began to falter, vision becoming blurry - furthering your consciousness into the darkness of oblivion. The echoes of Dean yelling of your name and his frantic footsteps toward you were the last things you could hear, before everything faded to black.

Dean scrambled to inject the vampire with Vamponite, the creature perishing as the elixir spread through its body, throwing the corpse off of you.

“Sweetheart- fuck, can you hear me?” Dean mumbled shakily, his palms shaking as he stroke your face. Sam bent down at your side, shaking your shoulder gently and calling your name. Dean took a shallow breath as he pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, checking your pulse.

He felt that soft throb in your veins, a jagged sigh of relief fell from his lips.

“She’s still here.” he choked out softly, before he cleaned his throat and sniffled hard, reeling back those tears that threatened to fall.

He was relieved that you were alive, God knows what he’d do if you had slipped through his fingers like that- but he was livid.

He didn’t want you doing something like that, something he’d consider so idiotic- putting your damn life on the line for him.

It was a deafeningly quiet drive back to the motel, the brothers dragging you out of the damned den of vampire corpses. You were laid out in the back seat, Dean cradling your head in his lap and petting your hair as Sam drove the impala.

Deans eyes never left your face, the flurry of emotions that rattled his head never faltered, monitoring you on the journey back to the dingy motel.

It was a good few hours after arriving back that you awoke, your eyes adjusting to the soft orange glow of the side lamp that lit the bland room. A dull pain came over your body as you slowly sat up, a soft groan escaping your mouth.

That quiet sound alerted Dean awake, who was sitting at your bedside in an arm chair to monitor you- but his own exhaustion; a mixture of physical and emotional stress had taken over.

He looked over you, seeing the discolouration on your neck where the vampire had you made his heart tighten- but remembering the act of putting yourself on the line for him made his anger and frustration bubble up inside him again; his brows furrowed, those green eyes darkening and those perfect lips turned down in a scowl.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” His tone could’ve stopped time itself. Those words that came out of his mouth was a shock to your freshly awakened system, taking a minute to process them.

“I wasn’t going to let it kill you, Dean.” You replied quietly, looking at him as you swung your legs off the side of the bed slowly.

“how could you be so- so reckless?! I had it under control, I had Vamponite- I needed it to get close to me to kill the sonuvabitch.” His nostrils flared, his stare was on you as he watched you attempt to get up out of the squeaky bed, causing him to stand up as well.

“I-it- it got me at a weak moment and-” You argued back before he cut you off.

“No. That’s not the point, you made yourself bait for fucks sake- you put yourself in danger. That was stupid, so fucking reckless.” His voice raised in volume, standing up and facing you.

“I saved your ass Dean. hell it was a massive risk but I took that chance. I’m alive, Sam’s alive- you’re alive.” You rasped.

“Listen to me DAMMIT!” He growled. “God stop acting so feckless about this! You could have DIED.” He was fuming, if it was humanly possible, steam would be coming out of his ears.

Your face changed into a scowl of frustration at his tone, stepping closer to him. “I couldn’t stand and watch it happen, I couldn’t not do anything! I will not watch you die, Winchester.”

“You don’t get to decide to be some damn sacrificial lamb. You- you can’t just do that to me-“ his words got caught in throat like a lump, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath in through his nose. “I couldn’t live with that, not without- without you.”

As his eyes opened again, he saw the softened glance that you gave him- the look in your eyes that had a glimpse at the softer side that he tried so hard to keep locked away.

“Dean-“ He shushed you softly, bringing his palms to your jaw- the touch sending a shock down your spine, closing your eyes at the somewhat soothing touch as your lips parted to release a soft breath.

“No, no. Look at me. Please…” Deans voice was softer now, his tone almost… pleading, looking for your pupils.

His instruction was promptly followed as you opened your eyes, the tension between the two of you thickening in that very little space between you two.

“You can’t just throw away your life like that, not for me. Not for anyone.” He muttered, his voice was full of emotion, the hardened walls that preserved this side of him starting to crumble.

His thumbs that were on your cheeks started to stroke the soft skin, more so to comfort and ground himself than anything as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You scared me, really scared me.” He breathed. “Please promise me, don’t do that again. I’ve lost too much already… it would be the end of me if you were gone.”

“I need you sweetheart, more than you know.”

Deans words struck in your soul, knocking the wind out of you. All you could muster was a longing gaze, a slight brush of the tip of your nose against his.

After a few moments, you piped up.

“I need you too Dean, so much…”

That sentence alone let dean release a breath, the hot air splaying against your lips.

“I-is this real?” You whispered, smiling softly at him.

“As real as it gets, sweetheart.” He grumbled, his thumb moving from your cheek to your bottom lip, lightly grazing across it- his green eyes looking between yours and your lips.

“Can I?” Dean purred, pulling your lip down playfully - making your body shiver once more under his touch.

“Please…”

No further hesitation was necessary, pressing his full lips to yours - savouring the warm and gentle sensation.

Deans arms snaked around you, one around the middle of your back and the other creeping up between your shoulders to cradle the back of your neck- backing you up to the bed cautiously before your legs hit the frame, slowly lowering you down amongst the worn in mattress as the springs squeaked underneath you both.

He made sure you lay back comfortably, gazing down at you from above. “So beautiful…” he whispered with his signature smile before leaning down to capture your lips again as he settled on top of you.

Deans knee crept up between your thighs, pressing up against your clothed core. A soft sigh vibrated off your lips to his as you began to move your hips against his knee, relieving some of the arousal that was pooling inside of you. “Yeah sweetheart… grind on it baby, take what you want from me.” Deans voice was low and gruff, laced thickly with want.

You moaned his name, it falling deliciously onto his ears. “God I could get used to hearing that.”

Fingers reached the hem of your t-shirt, slowly raising it to slip off your torso to expose your warm skin to him. Dean took a moment to admire you again, glowing with adoration for you. You suddenly sat up, reaching around to unhook your bra- struggling to undo it. “Dammit…” you had muttered before deans hands moved behind you, unhooking it for you. “I’ve got you…” he smirked.

His index fingers hooked under your straps, pulling the material away as your breasts fell. Dean couldn’t help the breathy moan erupting from his throat, slowly pushing you onto your back.

His lips attached to your neck, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and natural scent- an addicting feeling that made his eyes roll into the back of his head. They trailed down your collarbone, toward your chest.

His face was level with your chest, hot breath fanning over one of your breasts as he pulled your nipple into his mouth. “O-oh- Dean…” you gasped, feeling his tongue swirl around the now hardened nub. “so good baby…” he struggled to say, his mouth occupied with your nipple.

Dean repeated the same along your other tit, relishing in the sounds of your moans as you continued to move your core along his jean cladded knee. “Wanna taste you… please baby.” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

God, he sounded so desperate… so needy- you couldnt help but whimper. “Y-yes, I want it…”

The kisses along your torso never ceased, his fingers moving lower to work on untying your sweatpants and tugging them down your thighs. He reluctantly removed his lips from your skin as he sat up to remove the last few garments on you, throwing your pants and underwear to the ground in the corner of the room.

Scooting down, Dean settled between your legs- his large hands gripping on the outside of your thighs. “So pretty baby… all f’me.” Soon his lips met your skin again as he left wet open mouthed kisses along your inner thighs- his eyes never once leaving yours as he reached the apex of your thigh.

There was no resisting some teasing, his tongue barely touch the skin around your pussy, making your hips buck and try to chase after it.

“Please, don’t tease me Dean, I want to feel your mouth on me…” you whined, his lips just a breath away from where you wanted him most.

“Since you asked so nicely…”

He never thought he would experience heaven, but the taste between your thighs would’ve been what he’d consider close to it. The tip of his tongue circled around the tender nub of your cunt, dragging it down to prod at your sopping entrance- manipulating your sinful sounds to fill the room.

Your hands reached to find his hair, tugging at his short brown locks. “you feel so fucking good…” you praised as you pulled at his hair, earning a moan of satisfaction from him. “Do that again, pull my fucking hair…” he groaned, his tongue continuing its assault on you.

It was overwhelming, the knot in your hips was beginning to unfurl as your orgasm started to wash over you- a final call of his name as your fingers tightened their grip on his hair as your pelvis rolled back into deans actions against you.

He groaned as he continued to lap at you, greedily taking every last bit of your wetness on his tongue. “So sweet…” he praised, placing one last kiss to your core.

“D-Dean, I want you- I need you to fuck me, please…” you whimpered. A wolfish smirk appeared on deans face as he stood up, whipping off his Led Zeppelin shirt in one swift motion before working on his belt buckle.

You sat back and enjoyed the view of his stripping off, seeing his soft tummy and broad shoulders, the anti possession tattoo on his collar… it was as if he was created by the gods himself. The time came where he stripped himself of his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free of all restraint.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” His voice laced with a cocky tone, crawling back onto the bed to resume his position on top of you.

“I’d be an idiot if I didn’t like it…” you replied, giggling softly as you pulled him in for a deep, slightly sloppy kiss.

Dean moved to position himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock sliding along you teasingly- the both of you letting out soft breathy moans into your mouths, before he couldn’t take it anymore- he had to feel you, to fuck you, make you his…

“Oh fuck- yes-“ Dean gasped, his cock pressing inside of you- the feel of your nails digging into his back making the sensation all the more euphoric. His hips started to move slowly against yours, coaxing more of those delicious moans he longed to hear from you.

“Dean!” You were loud, the sounds of your moans, deans grunts and the squeaking mattress springs filled the room- leaving no room for doubt of getting complaints from the neighbouring residents in the other motel rooms.

“God sweetheart, you’re so- so good, so good for me.” He groaned as he felt your thighs wrap around his hips, his cock pushing deeper inside you now, the pace of his thrusts becoming stronger.

He watched as you writhed below him, as your expressions contorted in its pleasured state- taking one of his thumbs to circle around your clit, heightening your pleasure as your back arched. “Fuck! Yes, don’t stop-“ you pleaded, your nails digging harder into his shoulder blades.

The way you looked and sounded to him brought him closer, the thrusts becoming sloppy as he near reached his peak, his fingers still working along your clit. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum-“ he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his head falling forward into your neck as he came, his thick hot cum coating your delicate walls.

Your breathing was sharp and fast as another orgasm fell over you, your thighs quivering in ecstasy and exhaustion.

Dean pulled his head from your neck, kissing you tenderly. “You have no idea… how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He whispered, rubbing his nose along yours. “Could say the same with you…” that comment made him smile widely, pecking your lips once more before pulling out of you, lying down to curl into your side.

It was silent for a good while, the jagged breathing between you both as you came down from your highs being the only sound breaking the silence. It was comfortable, blissful even- just being in each other’s arms after such intimacy.

“Promise me something?” Dean spoke quietly, placing a soft kiss on your neck as he buried his face into it.

“Yeah?” You ran your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.

“Don’t ever put yourself in danger again… please.” His tone was soft but serious, his hand reaching out to hold your free palm.

“And not get railed like that again? Damn i might have to think about it.” you teased him, massaging his scalp as he gave a sleepy chuckle.

“No need to get hurt again for that, just gotta ask me and I’m at your beck and call. You’re mine now after all.”

“Oh I’m yours now huh?” You giggled, the laughing being cut off by Dean sucking on your neck, a low mewl escaping your lips.

He smirked against your neck, pulling away to admire the growing red love bite that formed against your skin.

“Yeah, you’re mine now sweetheart, can’t get away from me now.”

Tags <3: @bluemerakis

#supernatural #Dean Winchester #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfiction

90 notes · View notes

ideasarestuckinmyhead · 3 days ago

Note

Hello! Can I ask for a shy and nervous werewolf Seth on a first date with Doll?

Thank you for your time! Remember to take care!!<3

First date nerves.

Looking in the mirror Seth saw himself, God he looked so fucking nervous. Why was he nervous? This is Doll, he knows them and vise versa. Huffing he opened the mirror cabinet to grab his hair things.

'You've already groomed your hair, kid.' A deep voice echoed in his head. Groaning Seth ignored him and shut the mirrored cabinet to put his nerves somewhere else.

"Not a bad thing for a quick look over." Whispering back, Seth just combed his hair back. Looking from both of his sides to make sure his hair was even.

'Your gonna be late, moron.' Huffing out the wolf watched as Seth shot his gaze down. To where his phone was and laughed as he cursed.

Yelling out the greaser ran around grabbing his leather jacket, keys and shoes. Going outside to his pickup and speeding slightly to get to Doll's house. Checking the digital clock once more he sighed in relief seeing he was early.

'Kid, stop over thinkin. This human clearly likes ya, don't know why but.' The tone of the wolf's voice sounded very gentle as he lowered his voice. 'Their a good one. You picked right, now just have fun. I won't bother you, gonna take a nap.'

Seth simply hummed and gave a nod as he turned his attention to Doll's house. Suddenly he was over thinking again. Should he go and knock? It was a gentleman thing to do. Quickly Seth walked up, wiping his hands against his jeans before knocking loud enough to be heard.

"One second!" An excited voice was heard, causing Seth's heart to start beating. Were they expecting him for long? Oh shit was he late somehow and didn't remember? What-

The front door opened revealing Doll in a cute outfit as they smiled at the brunette. The nerves that Seth had seemed to multiple seeing them.

The receptionist smiled at the werewolf that had a slight blush on his face. Stepping out of the house they quickly locked the front door.

"So, what do you have planned for us?" Asking gently, seeing how nervous he was. The man before them cleared his throat before speaking.

"Um, just normal things you know. Also if I may say you look really pretty today." Mumbling the last bit, Seth watched as Doll smiled wider. Coming closer to him Doll gently wrapped their arms around hi.

"Thank you, you look really handsome!" Giggling, Doll watched as Seth smiled confidently as he guided them to his car. And opened the passenger door guesturingthem to get in.

"After you." Using a fake gentleman voice made Doll laugh. Nodding they sat and watched ashe closed the door. Buckling themsleves in the couldn't help but feel nervous as well.

After Seth got into his car he drove them to a movie theater. Getting tickets for a movie Doll has been wanting to watch for a while now. When asked how he remembered Seth shrugged and said.

"You were really excited when telling me how the theater was gonna play it. So I bought the tickets to give them to you for a gift for being an ass to you." Mumbling as they sat down. Doll felt touched at the effort he put into this, Seth really listens to them?

Chatting about the movie, Seth then escorted them to walk around the block. Different entertainment shops were on this block. It was nice seeing how Doll was so happy pointing at the different things they were seeing.

And slowly as the two enjoyed their night out, Seth got more relaxed. As they went to a small arcade playing a claw machine. Doll cheered him on as Seth won them a plushie they were eyeing.

"Awe, thank you! Your so sweet." Whispering, Doll smiled gently at the werewolf. Who, blushed hearing their words.

"It was nothin' these are easy if you know how to play them right." Shrugging Seth felt his heart thump happily in his chest. Even after everything they thought he was sweet?

Slowly as they spent more time in the arcade Seth got more confident. Chatting with Doll about everything and nothing. The receptionist giggled when he told them how the Boss once slipped because Daren left a towel on the floor.

"And you should have seen the scolding he got! Looked like a kicked puppy." Chuckling, Seth turned watching Doll laugh. They looked so pretty, the many lights in the arcade made them look gorgeous.

Honestly, Seth was glad his first date nerves went away. It's a laughter he was overthrowing about Doll like that. If they could fall for him when he was a jerk, what would stop them from enjoying a date with him?

#red rants #yuurivoice #red answers #yuurivoice seth #yuurivoice moonrise #werewolf x human #werewolf x reader #red writes #red's stories

51 notes · View notes

beef-brisket · 11 hours ago

Note

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and stared at Adam: How long ago...?

Adam was fully sweating now, what was the big deal about him cooking? They don't even know if it's bad or not.

Adam: Uh... t-two...

Lucifer: Two what? Months?

Adam: ...hundred.

Lucifer gasped: Two hundred years ago?! Adam! That's insane!

Adam: N-No it's not! Shut up. Babe! It'll be fine! I just have to get into the swing again, and I feel really fucking confident about this, alright?

Smiling, Adam folded his arms: And I think I've learnt a thing or two that'll blow your cock off.

Lucifer: That ISN'T your mouth?!

Adam blushed: No- and d-don't taint the kitchen with that fucking language, alright? When I absorbed Beelzeboptop I may have... you know, learnt how to cook.

Lucifer: Beelze- who- what? That's not her name.

Adam: Just- fucking- give me a shot, yeah? I'll blow your daughterrr-

Lucifer stared at Adam, hoping he'll add onto that sentence.

Adam: Rrr's fucking mind. Then she can go tell that dog girlfriend of hers how much better I am than her. Who knows, maybe she'll like cock instead of Vaggies whatever the fuck she has down there. All thanks to my fucking, babe. Because of me, you might get fucking grandkids.

Lucifer: ...Okay. that was a lot to unpack. First... uh, grandkids aren't an issue, Charlie can easily get Maggie pregnant, or she could get pregnant herself... I was a Seraphim, remember? She's part Seraphim- and second why would your cooking make her like dick...?

Adam: Uh... because I cooked it? The first dick?

Lucifer: ...Alright. we're clearing this up right now. Michael is the first dick. He was the first angel made. So, there. You're like the... tenth dick or something.

Adam: What can I say? It took them ten tries to get it right~.

Lucifer: ...I make you crazy with my dick, Adam. I'm clearly better.

Adam: Fuck you- I can make any bitch cream and scream- that's trademarked by the way- on my fucking cock! Don't matter the bitch! I can do it with anyone-.

Lucifer: Other than Eve?

Adam gasped: How fucking dare you- I had nearly nine hundred kids with her- that's nine hundred orgasms!

Lucifer: For you? Obviously.

Adam: ...look. fuck you, and fuck Heaven- especially Michael. I'm cooking fucking dinner tonight and you'll see how fucking good I am.

Lucifer smiled: Amazing. You didn't absorb me and you somehow have more pride. Maybe you should have taken over Hell, you obviously have bested all the sins.

Adam: ...Suck my ass. I'm fucking cooking.

Lucifer laughed: Alright, this is your trail run. Fuck this up, and you're out.

Adam: O-Out? Out, like... OUT or... just out.

Lucifer glared, still smirking at Adam: Out.

Adam: ...Out. Okay... good. Right. Fair enough. Out.

The Sin of Adam!au.

One more quick au before I fall asleep.

Adam falls to Hell after his death. But he doesn't wake up in Pride. He wakes up in Wrath. Adam is completely pissed off and just itching for revenge.

In this, Adam conquers each ring of Hell, growling stronger until he's on the same wavelength as Lucifer, power wise.

Lucifer has no idea what's going on. He's slowly losing contact with the Sins, and everyone is in a state of panic. That's until he returns home from a few days away, trying to find the Sins, that he sees his daughters hotel, and Pentagram city destroyed.

Thankfully, Charlie and her friends are fine. But what she explains is unbelievable.

Charlie: It was Adam, dad!

Lucifer: Adam? He's dead Charlie- I buried him myself.

Charlie: I thought so, too! He was looking for you! He's alive!

Lucifer gets his daughter to hide. Everything is in a state of chaos. He can't find Adam anywhere.

Until he returns home and sees someone sitting on his throne.

After a long, destructive fight, Lucifer realizes that Adam only absorbed the Sins. Their not dead

Adam has literally been taken over by the powers of Hell.

Can Lucifer contain and find a way to get Adam and the Sins back before he destroys Hell and everything undead thing in it??

How will Lucifer get Adam back??

Who knows 🤷

Adam: You can't defeat me now Lucifer!

Lucifer: Oh yes I can! I'm going to fuck the sins out of you!!

Adam: Wait what?

Ozzie inside: YEAH BABY!!

Sorry I'm feeling a little silly lmao 😂

136 notes · View notes

junplusone · 12 hours ago

Text

i'll always say it's you ; yoon jeonghan

summary: you always used to think that even the end of the world couldn’t keep you and yoon jeonghan apart; you’d find your way back to each other somehow. ten years later, you start to wonder if that’s such a good thing after all.

contains: childhood best friends to ??? to ???, swearing, drinking (+ underage), talk of joshua and cheol's arm muscles, mention of drugs in a joke like once i think, caffeine addiction, peak delusion, jeonghan cheating in games as always, hella yearning

word count: 12.98k

a/n: this is lowkey a mess and probably kind of inaccurate loll but i hope u enjoy! feedback always appreciated xx

the me of today hopes for the you of tomorrow

“What about you, Y/N? Have you ever been in love?”

Hearing your own name slowly zones you back into the conversation at the table. You pause at the question, a drop of soju splashing out of the glass in your hand.

“What?”

“Come on, it’s just a silly question,” the young intern says, rolling his eyes. “You’re no fun, Y/N. We’re off work right now! It’s fine,” he drawls, swaying a little in his chair.

You can’t really remember his name right now, downing the glass in one go, but his bold innocence bothers you. Maybe his demeanor, full of life and promise, is what gets on your nerves.

Were you like that when you were fresh out of college, too? It’s so unthinkable to you now, at twenty-nine. It feels like ages in the past.

“So? Are you —”

“I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation,” you say quietly, zipping your bag shut. “I think I’m going to head out, anyways. It’s quite late already.”

“But —”

“Chan, just stop asking questions and drink this, okay?” His friends try and calm him down with a glass of water. Amidst the chatter, you decide to slip away, silently pushing in your chair and leaving the bustling restaurant.

Dinners like this always end up making you feel worse, anyways, like an outlier at a table of people with fervent hopes and dreams of their own.

You make it two blocks until your phone begins to buzz in your pocket, and you fumble to answer it, knowing there’s only one person who would call you at nine o’clock on a Friday night.

“Hello?”

“Oh, you answered,” Yeonju says, evidently surprised. “I thought you’d still be at work.”

“I’m on my way home now,” you tell her. “Why, did something happen?”

“Kind of,” you hear rustling on her end of the line. “Jeonghan called.”

“Huh?”

You had stopped abruptly at Yeonju’s words— foolishly in the middle of the road, and you rush to the sidewalk, still reeling. It’s been so long since you’ve even heard his name that it sends your mind into a tailspin when she says it again.

“I thought you knew,” she says, “He said he tried calling you first, but you wouldn’t pick up.”

“I don’t answer calls from numbers I don’t have saved,” you remind her. You haven’t had Jeonghan’s number saved on your phone in a long time. There was no need to keep it if you never used it anymore.

“I think you should talk to him.”

“Yeonju,” you shake your head. “Why would I? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“There is, and you know it, too,” she doubles down. “You won’t say it, but I know you agree with me.”

She’s right, as much as you want to pretend otherwise. When has Choi Yeonju ever been wrong about you? Sometimes it scares you how good she is at reading your mind, but as always, she delivers reality checks right when she feels like you need them.

“Maybe,” you admit begrudgingly. “But things are just easier without him.”

“Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy,” she points out, “but take your own time, no rush. And take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I will,” you say with a faint smile.

“OK, perfect. Call if you need anything else, yeah? I gotta go now.”

“Okay, Yeonju, take care.”

“Bye!”

She hangs up just as you unlock your front door, shutting it behind you and kicking off your shoes. The peace and quiet of your apartment welcomes you, and you sigh in relief as you sink into your couch.

Pulling out your phone again, you scroll through your call log. There are a few unsaved numbers, likely just spam calls, but when you see the same number four times in a row, there’s no doubt about who it might have been. Your finger hovers over the screen; should you? Shouldn’t you?

No, it’s easier to just stay angry. It’s easier to pretend his name means nothing to you anymore.

But even as you toss your phone to the side, Chan’s question still haunts you, like it’s a reminder that maybe you need to retrace your steps and do something different this time.

God, you had finally been able to go a few days without thinking about him, but today just took you right back to square one.

“Have you ever been in love?”

When you close your eyes, all you see is him.

first time feeling my heart race, never thought it'd beat so fast

TEN YEARS AGO

“Yoon Jeonghan, delete that right now or I’m going to kill you.”

Jeonghan shakes his head vehemently, still cackling at the picture of you on his phone. This is nothing new to you; over the years you’ve gotten used to him finding the absolute worst angles of you whenever you fall asleep in class, or on the bus, and it never fails to get you fuming.

In fact, if Jeonghan has one talent, it’s probably pissing you off.

“Not my fault you dozed off like that during lecture! Even Yeonju would have bullied you if she was there,” he teases. “I’ve been collecting bad Y/N photos since we were sixteen and in high school, why would I stop now?”

“You’re evil.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“Dinner’s on you, by the way.”

“What?!”

“Do you want to keep that horrendous picture or not?”

“Okay, fine,” he concedes immediately, slipping his phone into his pocket. “But we’re going back to my dorm first because I left my wallet on my desk.”

"Why would you not have that with you? Dumbass," you scold.

To anyone else, you might sound angry, but somewhere in the unspoken words, you and Jeonghan have already reconciled.

The weather is chilly and perfectly November-esque, and if not for the thick scarf around your neck you’d be shivering by now. Having Jeonghan by your side adds to the warmth spreading throughout your body, a little piece of happiness found in his company.

You’ve never needed to explain yourself to him. Somehow, whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s going on, he just knows, and it’s perfect. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Not much to your surprise, Jeonghan’s roommate is there when the two of you walk in, blankets piled over him as he hunches over his laptop.

“Hey, Josh,” you greet him. “Everything okay?”

“No,” he frowns, rubbing his eyes, “I may have procrastinated a little too hard on this paper and now it’s due in a couple of hours and I’m totally fucked.”

“This is why I told you to drop that philosophy class at the beginning of the semester,” Jeonghan says, pocketing his wallet. “You don’t even need to take it.”

“Just trying to knock off my humanities electives, but honestly, this one kind of backfired on me,” Joshua admits, defeated. “Where are you guys headed?”

Jeonghan points at you accusingly. “This one tricked me into buying her dinner earlier.”

“I did not!” you gasp. “You walked into that one, stop blaming me for the consequences of your actions! Also, I want ramen, which means we’re going off campus, so you’re driving.”

He narrows his eyes at you as he reaches for his car keys. “You are so evil.”

"Takes one to know one, Hannie."

What throws you off is the way Joshua’s eyes flit between the both of you as you bicker, the way he tells you to have fun in that singsong voice of his as you step back out into the cold, like he knows something you don’t.

You still remember the day you first met him, when Jeonghan left to go grab something after introducing the two of you, and the question that immediately followed.

“Are you guys together or something?”

And of course, Joshua meant no harm — nobody ever does, when they ask something like that. You and Jeonghan have been fielding questions like that since the start of your friendship. Everyone’s wanted to know exactly what it is that you are to each other, and the answer has always come without missing a beat.

Friends, you’ve always said.

Friends in the way that you can’t go anywhere alone in your hometown without being asked where the other one is, the way that your parents always set out an extra plate and ask if he’s joining for dinner as usual.

The right word for it would be ‘inseparable’. Sometimes, though, you wonder if that’s all that it is.

Like now, as you notice the cold has Jeonghan trembling next to you. His teeth are chattering, long lashes framing his eyes that are now narrowed in displeasure.

When you unravel your scarf from around your neck and reach to drape it around his, they go wide in surprise.

“What are you doing?”

“You never wear enough layers, idiot.” You tuck the ends into his jacket and the way he’s staring at you steals the breath out of your lungs.

You can’t run from the fact; your best friend is undeniably attractive. It’s a simple truth, down to his soft but sharp features, the slope of his cheeks, and the hair that frames his face so perfectly. It’s dark out, but Jeonghan’s eyes are lit up like stars. You don’t even realize it until you start to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“Thanks,” he says with a faint smile. “What would I do without you?”

“Freeze, probably,” you reply flippantly, but you look away, unable to take the intensity of his gaze on you.

Just think about the way he looks at you, Y/N.

Was Yeonju right? You have no way of knowing, and you don’t want to tip the scales by bringing any of it up now.

“Alright, let’s go,” you say instead, tugging him along to the parking lot. “It’s late, I’m hungry, and you promised.”

“Why do you always seem so excited to drain my bank account?”

“It’s my favorite hobby,” you quip. “Shall we go?”

“We shall, m’lady,” he says as you get to his car, pulling open the door for you with a wink. Your cheeks burn as you get in, his defined features etched into your brain.

Yes, he’s your dearest, oldest friend, but Yoon Jeonghan has a certain way of making your head spin that throws that very title into question.

when half of me is gone, how can i live as one?

PRESENT DAY

It’s been exactly three days since Jeonghan called you, and you haven’t heard from him since then. You don’t know what you were expecting. Another call? A text?

No, it would be quite stupid to hope for such things after everything that’s happened.

It’s a quiet Monday night, and your brain decides to take an involuntary trip down memory lane. Ten years ago today, you’d probably be doing homework frantically, most definitely an assignment you’d put off until the night of. Ten years ago today, Jeonghan would be by your side.

Oh, how some things change over time.

After another hour of mindless TV and doing whatnot on your phone, your conscience finally wins the moral battle against your pride, and you scroll down through your call log again. Taking a deep breath, you decide to call him back before your brain can convince you otherwise.

All the words evaporate out of your mouth when he picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?”

God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice. Just the sound of your name from him is enough to make you tear up.

“... Jeonghan?”

Silence. After a few seconds your heart sinks, thinking maybe he’s hung up on you and gone radio silent yet again.

Then you hear it, just barely whispered into the phone: “I’ve missed you.”

Those words tug at your heart so badly you press your eyes closed to prevent your tears from welling up. “Jeonghan, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“I haven’t heard from you in over a year,” you cut him off. “A year, Jeonghan. Do you really think you can just ‘I miss you’ your way back into my life whenever you want?”

“Don’t say that,” he implores. “You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. I mean it.”

“I’ve heard the exact same line from you so many times,” you tell him, the rest of your words dying in your throat.

You have many more things to say to him, so many unspoken feelings, but now doesn’t feel like the time. Instead, you swallow your anger like you’ve done every time he finds his way back into your life.

“How… how have you been?”

“I’m okay. I wrote a new song,” he says lightly. “Shows have been pretty alright, things are looking up… just the usual.”

“Oh, I see.”

“What about you?”

“I’m okay, too.” A blatant lie. “Jeonghan… why’d you call me on Friday?”

“Oh,” he starts, like he’s surprised you even asked. “Um, I’m actually in town for a bit, so… I was just wondering if you wanted to meet and catch up again. Y’know, like old times.”

It’s the flippant edge in his voice that stings more than anything else, as if he doesn’t care that your friendship hasn’t been the same for years. Do you mean that little to him now?

But, like always, you have a hard time saying no to Yoon Jeonghan.

“Okay,” you agree. “Just tell me where, I guess. And when.”

“Okay.”

It’s not for a few seconds that you realize your cheeks are wet. Jeonghan feels so far away now, the distance hurts like a piercing pain and you have to slap a hand over your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sob against your couch, the stoic wall you put up crumbling away with every passing moment.

“Y/N,” his voice is shaky now. “Y/N, please don’t cry.”

Feeling caught and cornered, your brain enters fight or flight mode, and promptly chooses the latter. “I’m not,” you blurt out, and immediately end the call, tossing your phone across the room so you aren’t tempted to call him again.

If time traveling was an option, you’d go back to a decade in the past without a question. For some reason it hurts more that after all this time, Yoon Jeonghan is still the one that knows you the best.

You wake up the next morning horribly late for work, with a blinding headache and a notification from Jeonghan on your phone.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: is tonight @ semicolon cafe ok with you? after you get off work?

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i won’t take up too much of ur time, i promise

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m so sorry y/n

you: its ok. that works, see u then

It’s well past nine o’clock when you finally enter the office. You almost make it to your desk unnoticed until your boss glances at you sneaking in.

“You’re very late,” Seungcheol observes, leaning back in his chair. His gaze is always stern, and today it makes you even more anxious than usual.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “Things just… everything kind of worked against me today. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“I believe you,” he says, casting another concerned look at you as you nearly drop your laptop going to your desk. “Is everything okay, Y/N? This really isn’t like you.”

“Yeah,” you lie through a tight smile. Damn Yoon Jeonghan and his stupid face for ruining your whole day. “Everything’s fine.”

Looking back, it’s quite impressive how you manage to keep your composure throughout your whole workday. You know you’ve accomplished a feat when even Junhui doesn’t really notice anything’s wrong.

Despite how oblivious he comes across at first, your colleague is easily one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met, as you’ve learned in the past five years you’ve spent at this company.

“Long day?” Junhui swivels around in his chair as he catches you taking a break from your screen.

“Yeah,” you admit, glancing at the clock. Almost five. “Even longer when we get asked to fix all of the intern’s mistakes. How do you just forget to write a whole method?!”

“God, I hope Lee Chan never gets hired as a backend developer. Love the kid, but I’m not sure how he got through college with his code looking like this.”

“Hard agree.”

“Hey, do you have plans after? Me and the rest of the team are probably gonna get dinner together. None of the interns,” he clarifies with a grin. “We need some peace and quiet. I think Wonwoo’s genuinely at his final straw, he’s been downstairs with them all day.”

As tempting as that sounds — Junhui has a knack for finding the best spots in Seoul — you have something more important on your plate for the day.

“Maybe next time,” you decline. “I have to meet someone after work.”

“Oh?” A sly grin spreads across his face. “Someone special?”

“It’s not a date,” you insist, face heating up.

“I never asked if it was, Y/N, you’re just outing yourself at this point.”

“It’s not!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he teases, turning back around. “Keep me posted!”

You roll your eyes.

The end of the day couldn’t have come any slower. Usually, you’d get so engrossed in whatever you were working on that you’d end up staying late, but today you shock everyone by packing up when the clock hits five, bidding Junhui a good night as you almost run to leave the building.

(“Someone’s in a rush,” he remarks when you turn your computer off. “Don’t be late on a first date, it’s not very polite!”

“Fuck off,” you respond, when Seungcheol is safely out of earshot.)

The walk home almost freezes your fingertips, and you have to shove your hands deep into your pockets to keep them from going numb. You make a note to dress accordingly for the biting cold later.

At least the weather matches your mood today.

The idea of a hot shower turns out to be a little too inviting, though, because when you finally step out, hair wrapped in a towel, it’s 6:28, and you have a text from Jeonghan waiting to be opened.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m here, i snagged a table in the back

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, pulling on an old sweater and some jeans. You don’t have time to fully dry your hair, so you just run your round brush through it a couple of times, hope for the best, and throw it into a claw clip, praying it stays up.

You’re officially twenty minutes late when you finally get to the cafe — it’s not too far from your apartment, thankfully, but you still had to book it — and you approach Jeonghan slightly panting and out of breath.

(If Junhui was right and this was actually a date, you would be royally screwed.)

“Here, sit,” he pulls out your chair, a little alarmed by your flushed face. “Were you running?”

“Yeah. Sorry I’m late,” you answer, and then you look up at him and the air is knocked out of your lungs as if you weren’t already winded from getting there. He’s even more beautiful than the last time you saw him. “Wow, you…”

“I?”

You’re not even sure what the rest of that sentence was going to be, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. Snap out of it.

“Nothing,” you say quietly.

“How have you been?”

“You already asked me that.”

“I want to know more.” He’s looking at you like he’s trying to memorize your features; it’s hard to ignore.

“I don’t have anything interesting going on,” you deflect. “Tell me about what’s going on with you. You said you wrote a new song?”

Jeonghan’s face lights up when you say it. “I did. I spent around nine months rewriting and perfecting it. It’s kind of like my child, in a way.”

“Yoon Jeonghan, a father. I never thought I’d see the day.”

He laughs, and it feels like a part of your old selves is back. “Want to listen?”

You nod, and he passes you an AirPod and his phone. “Imperfect Love,” you read out loud. “That’s deep.”

“It came from a pretty raw place,” he confesses. “Something that’s kind of been on my mind for a while.”

“Something or someone?”

Jeonghan’s face reflects something akin to panic. “What are you talking about?”

“This seems like a song about unrequited love,” you deadpan. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Well, it’s not,” he huffs. “Don’t assume things.”

“This is the kind of update I was waiting for. You didn’t tell me you’d found someone!”

“I didn’t!” he insists, concealing a smile. “Will you just stop asking questions and listen already?”

“Alright, Mr. Unlucky in Love,” you tease, securing the AirPod in your ear and pressing play.

The instrumentals are beautiful, and Jeonghan’s angelic voice fills your ears a few seconds later. You haven’t heard him sing in a long time, and you’d forgotten just how ethereal he sounds when he’s pouring his heart into the mic.

The sunlight that happily illuminates this dark world

Becomes a star when night comes

Come down to me

There are many, many things shining in this world

But among them, you’re the only one that’s precious to me

Jeonghan is watching you nervously, like he’s anxious for what you will say. You make the mistake of catching his eyes, because immediately you falter — they are gorgeous, he is gorgeous, and it feels like you lose time with every second you spend admiring him.

Even if I can’t be the perfect weather for you

Will you still love me like this?

It feels like a silent plea — you wonder what kinds of things have happened to him in the past year that you missed, all the things you don’t know about.

Together we become old and worn out

Even if you come to me, who’s useless

At the end of a shining day

I’m happy that it’s you every day

The song comes to an end, and you hand Jeonghan’s phone back to him. His eyebrows raise, like a question.

“Did you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him honestly. “I love it.”

A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m still convinced you have a secret crush that you’re not telling me about.”

“Oh, not with that again,” he grumbles, waving off your curious questions.

What you don’t tell him is that you’ve missed hearing him sing and watching him perform, that the look in his eyes when he’s doing what he loves most is something you adore. There are a lot of things like that you want to say to him, and as good as the both of you are at acting like nothing’s wrong, the situation feels awfully different this time.

“Hey.” Jeonghan has a glint in his eye, the one he usually has when he’s up to something. “Do you wanna leave and go get tteokbokki and fried dumplings at the night market stands instead?”

Your favorites, from when you were a broke college student and couldn’t afford anything nicer. How did he still remember that?

“Yeah,” you say, already grabbing your things and standing. “Let’s go.”

You had forgotten that it was cold as fuck outside.

You had also forgotten that the food stalls were in the opposite direction of your house, so now you’re stuck walking twice the distance in the freezing weather.

“Are you warm enough?” Jeonghan asks, a bit worried. Stop looking out for me, you want to scream at him. Stop caring. Stop making such a fool out of me.

“I am, but I know you’re not,” you scold instead. “I’ve been telling you for years to dress for the weather.”

“Eh, what’s a little bit of cold?” he jokes, but you catch him shivering violently out of the corner of your eye, and you can’t just watch as he suffers.

“Here.” You pull your scarf off of your neck and hold it out to him. “Wear it.”

“Are you su—”

“Wear it before I take it back.”

You wait until Jeonghan’s listened to you, the warm fabric wrapped around his neck. A part of you thinks you’ll always feel the urge to look after him.

Stop it.

“You still haven’t told me about yourself,” Jeonghan starts hesitantly. “I know I’ve probably missed a lot of things in the past few years.”

“Eight years,” you correct him. “We graduated and then you disappeared.”

“I didn’t disappear, things just got really hectic,” he tries to explain. “Like, all of a sudden everything was on my shoulders, and I had to spend all my time working towards what I wanted. That or it was all just gonna go to waste.”

“Right,” you leave it at that, not wanting to start an argument on the road. This always happens — you’ll run into Jeonghan somehow, you’ll somewhat reconcile, fight, make up, and then it’s radio silence from him again. A year after you graduated college, you stopped looking for news articles on him entirely, actively avoiding any headlines with his name in them. It hurt a little too much to bear. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

You suck in a breath at the quick response.

“Yeonju’s doing well,” you start, even though he probably knows that already. “She has a cat now, actually. She adopted him a couple of months ago.”

“Really? What’s his name?”

“Mandu, because she says he’s round and fat like a dumpling.”

Jeonghan snorts. “That’s like when Josh told us his dog’s name was Bingsu.”

“Oh, I remember that,” you say, faintly reminded of his college roommate. “Um, there’s not much else, honestly. Junhui is still a major pain in my ass, that definitely hasn’t changed.”

“Your work friend, right? I thought you two got along pretty well?”

“Yeah, we do,” you admit. You don’t need to explain any further, because Jeonghan knows that your sarcastic remarks are reserved for those you cherish the most.

“It’s been a really long time since you introduced us,” he muses. “But I still remember him pretty clearly.”

He remembers you, too, you think to yourself, recounting all the times you’ve ranted to Junhui about all the times Jeonghan got on your very last nerve. Just not as fondly.

“Oh! Wonwoo actually joined the same company two years ago. I think I told you this already,” Jeonghan confirms with a nod, “But it’s really nice getting to see him again, I missed when we used to hang out in college.”

“Aw, that must be really nice.”

“And the three of us still work for Seungcheol,” you conclude.

“I remember him, too. The one with the huge ass biceps,” Jeonghan says, a bit miffed. “I don’t think he liked me very much.”

“He doesn’t like randoms coming in during work hours, which is what you did, Han.”

“Oh. Right.”

Despite his short response, you know Jeonghan is smiling to himself right now, and you kick yourself mentally for letting the decades-old nickname slip. The two of you may be on a truce right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgiven him.

A few minutes later, the lanterns and lights of the night market come into view. A little piece of childhood memory burrows its way into your heart. The vendors and stalls may have changed, but you used to love visiting this street with Jeonghan when you were still students.

“I really feel so old right now,” Jeonghan remarks as he follows you through the narrow walkways. “I feel like the last time I’ve been here was when we were eighteen.”

“It probably was,” you say. “Oh! Tteokbokki!”

You don’t even realize the way you’re holding on to the sleeve of Jeonghan’s sweater as you pull him along with you in excitement. He doesn’t say anything, just chuckles to himself as he walks behind you.

“Two cups, please,” you request the vendor when you finally get to the cart, and reach for your wallet. Jeonghan stops you before you can get to your pocket.

“No way,” he says firmly. “This one’s on me.”

“Jeonghan.”

“That voice isn’t working on me this time.” He hands the vendor a couple of bills with a friendly smile. “Just let me buy dinner tonight.”

You cross your arms. “No.”

“Why not? You had no problem doing it back in college.”

“Don’t bring that up now,” you say sharply, stung by the familiar memory. Jeonghan senses the shift in your attitude and drops the subject immediately.

“Wait here,” he tells you. “I’ll be back in a second.”

What are you supposed to do with yourself? Oh, you’re a mess, you realize, the way your feelings haven’t been in check for the entire evening. You were supposed to be so calm and collected, and now you’re anything but.

“Here you go,” the vendor hands you two steaming cups of the spicy rice cakes. “One for you, one for your friend.”

“Thank you.”

The man nods towards Jeonghan, making his way back through the sea of people. “Never let go of someone who cherishes you that much,” he says offhandedly, stirring the tteok in the pot.

You just blink, confused. “What?”

Before the vendor can answer, Jeonghan’s already caught up to you again. “There was nobody in line for fried dumplings,” he tells you excitedly. “Here, have some.”

“Thanks,” you say as you exchange with him for the tteokbokki, ignoring the awkward encounter you’ve just had. “We should probably get out of the way and find somewhere to sit down.”

“Yeah, we should.”

There are a few benches at the corner of the street, and you pick the empty one under one of the streetlamps, a hazy yellow glow cast over it. Sitting down, you bite into the first dumpling, the flavor flooding into your mouth.

“Jeonghan.”

“Yes?”

“Is this shrimp?”

“Yes?” He looks adorably confused in the dim light. “You prefer seafood over pork, right?”

Your heart feels like it’s beating at double the pace. “I do,” you reassure him. “It’s really good. Thank you.”

“Try the tteokbokki, too, it’s just the right level of spicy.”

“I will.”

Just being there and enjoying the food in silence reminds you of how easy it is to just be around Jeonghan. There’s no pressure to break the quiet; it’s comforting and peaceful.

You watch him savor the tteokbokki sauce and smile to yourself when he winces slightly. He’s always had less of a spice tolerance than you.

“Jeonghan?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to vanish on me again when you leave Seoul?”

The question stops him in his tracks. He doesn’t seem to have the words to answer, and the lack of a response makes your heart sink.

“Why are you thinking about that right now?” he says instead, chiding you gently. “Did you finish eating?”

The way you’re looking at him now, your eyes are imploring him. Please don’t make me empty promises again.

“It’s rude to answer a question with another question.”

Jeonghan rakes a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I’ve never vanished, Y/N, it’s just hard for me to leave my work that often,” he insists, “and besides, you’ve got Junhui and Yeonju and Wonwoo to entertain you in the meantime —”

“None of them are you!” Several people passing by glance over at you, but you can’t help that your voice is rising when you feel the anger bubbling up. “You’re my best friend, Jeonghan, do you have any idea how hard it’s been doing life without you?”

“Y/N, we’re past our youth,” he tries reasoning with you. “We don’t have to be attached at the hip all the time.”

Every word he says is like a knife to your chest. “You shouldn’t have asked to meet up today, then.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Jeonghan shuts his eyes, trying to think of the right words. “I just can’t be there for you all the time in the way that you want anymore. You’re stable, you have a solid job, but my livelihood depends on my music and whether people like me or not. That’s the harsh truth of it. And I’m not getting any younger, either.”

“I’m not asking you to be there for me all the time,” you snap. “All I ever wanted was the occasional message. A few updates. Whether you’re doing okay, how your life is going, things like that. Don’t give me bullshit excuses. I know you have thirty seconds to text me back letting me know that you’re alive.”

And stop playing with my heart, you want to add. Whether you’re aware of it or not.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan swears under his breath. “Y/N, let’s calm down and talk about this inside —”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Yoon Jeonghan.” Your fists are clenched right now. Jeonghan knows this about you; you don’t get angry quite often, but when you do, you are a force to be reckoned with. “It’s always a goddamn cycle with you. You show up, make all these promises, and then abandon me again. What am I supposed to do with that?”

You’re on the verge of tears, but you can’t cry in front of him. Anywhere but here.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he pleads with you. “I don’t know what more to say other than I’ve been trying my best, I really have been.”

You’re not having any of it. “Yeah, right,” you scoff, averting your eyes so you have time to blink the tears away.

“I mean it. I want to be there for you, but…” he trails off, voice shaky. “It’s just been so difficult.”

“Save it, Jeonghan.” You don’t think you can be here for a minute longer without totally breaking down. “I should really get going now.”

“Y/N, wait —”

“If you took the subway, there’s a station down that street if you keep walking for a few minutes.”

“Wait,” Jeonghan insists, standing. “Let me at least walk you home.”

“No need,” you retort, turning around and setting off towards your apartment. It’s even colder now that it’s completely dark out, and you start to regret your choice of coat as your teeth chatter quietly. All you can do is thug it out for the remaining three blocks to your apartment building.

The wind stings your eyes and you tear up anyway, despite your attempts to keep it down for now. Why did you think today was going to go any better than every other time this has happened?

Stupid. Your fault for thinking anything would have changed in eight years.

It’s not until you approach the entrance to your building that you hear the quiet shuffling of footsteps. You whirl around, ready to fight, but you stop short when you see Jeonghan standing several feet behind you.

“Just to make sure you got back okay,” he says quietly, walking over to you. You accept gingerly when he places your scarf back in your hands. “It’s late.”

You don’t even know how to feel; you’re too high-strung with too many lines of thought in your brain at the same time. “Thank you.”

“One more thing.” Jeonghan hands you a small plastic bag. You peer inside.

“What is this?”

“Tiramisu,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

“Oh,” you’re confused. “Why?”

It should make you even more furious that he has the audacity to give you a soft smile, but for some reason it doesn’t.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

The realization hits you belatedly — how did you manage to forget? — that you were so swamped with work commitments, it had totally slipped your mind today. (So that was why your phone had been constantly buzzing with notifications from Yeonju before you’d put it on silent.)

Jeonghan’s gesture, though, comes as a complete surprise, and it starts to dissipate the irritation from earlier.

“You remembered.”

“Of course,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I never forgot.”

just friends, that's not enough for me

EIGHT YEARS AGO

Normally, you are not someone who is criminally inclined.

However, it’s currently five in the morning on a day where you don’t have class until noon, so whoever is calling you at this time is most definitely going to end up six feet under.

You answer without checking who it is first, eyes still closed. “Hello?”

“Happy birthday!”

“Huh?” You lift your head just to be sure you heard correctly. “Yoon Jeonghan, it’s five a.m!”

“I know!”

“Why are you awake?”

“To tell you happy birthday?”

“Thank you, but cut the crap,” you tell him.

“I pulled an all-nighter to finish a project,” he admits. “Worth it, though. I’m the first person who told you, right?”

“You keep forgetting I live with Yeonju,” you point out, glancing over at your sleeping roommate.

“Damn it, Choi Yeonju!”

You grimace at his loud exclamation. “Jeonghan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor and let me go back to sleep.”

“Okay, but I’m waking you up at ten so you don’t skip your linear algebra class.”

“That class is at noon!”

“Yeah, and you take centuries to get ready, dumbass.”

When ten o’clock does roll around, you’re wide awake already. Yeonju is still fast asleep, so you try to get ready for class as quietly as possible.

jeonghan: i’m outside ur building

jeonghan: hurry up i’m hungry

you: ??? when u said u were gonna wake me up i thought u meant u would call

jeonghan: uhh surprise?

“Are you serious,” you mutter under your breath, haphazardly throwing an outfit on and rushing downstairs. Quickly, you press your key card against the reader and push the door open to the sight of Jeonghan leaning against the side wall.

“How long were you waiting?”

“Long enough. God, you really take forever, but I guess you get a pass because it’s your birthday,” he says begrudgingly, gesturing for you to walk with him.

The weather is quite bleak, but the slight smile on Jeonghan’s face is enough to chase the dreary atmosphere away, like your very own sun.

“Did you sleep at all?” you question, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“I tried, but by the time I finished the project it was already seven and Joshua was up, so I just didn’t bother. That guy’s a freak, I’m telling you. I don’t know anybody else who wakes up that early just to go to the gym.”

“Well, you don’t go at all. Maybe that’s why he has those nice muscles and you don’t.”

Jeonghan’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Are you kidding? Is this why you keep coming over? To ogle Joshua Hong’s arms?”

“Yeah, cause Joshua Hong is my best friend,” you deadpan. “Is it such a crime to just appreciate a nice set of muscles?”

“Okay, okay, stop talking about Josh when you’re with me and get in the car,” he urges, fishing out his keys. “Or we’ll be late and you won’t make it to that class.”

“I don’t even go half the time,” you point out. “And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“What I can do is promise you will be happy and fed by approximately half past eleven.” Jeonghan starts the car, adjusting his mirrors. “Is that good enough for you?”

“Deal.”

It strikes you then, beneath the dim sunshine, how good he looks when he’s driving. His eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on the road, humming along to the song playing through Bluetooth. For all the jokes you throw at him for never being seen at the gym, his arms are quite toned, subtly flexed as he makes a turn with one hand on the wheel.

God, you are so done for.

A few minutes later, Jeonghan pulls into a relatively empty lot. The building is quite unassuming, but you recognize this cafe as the one you frequent during exam season for your coffee fix.

“I love this place!” you exclaim, beaming at him. “How did you know?”

“‘Cause you never shut up about it,” he quips back, grinning.. “Stay here, I’ll just be a minute.”

You hum quietly to yourself as you wait for him to come back, content where you are. There couldn’t have been a better start to your day, aside from Jeonghan’s early morning call, and you think you’d be happy to spend the day just like this, peacefully with him and your closest friends.

In truth, you aren’t really sure how to navigate things with Jeonghan at the moment. Your relationship has always been labeled as strictly platonic, but lately there have been things that make you want to think otherwise. A few stolen glances, the way he looks out for you a little extra… you think you’re going insane.

That, and the way your heart has been reacting when you make eye contact with him lately has been a bit unsettling.

(“Don’t be so delusional,” Yeonju had told you a week ago. “You have a lot to lose here if anything happens. Plus, it’s Yoon Jeonghan, everyone thinks he’s flirting with them.”

“Yeah,” you’d replied flatly. “You’re right.”)

But maybe you’re allowed to be a little selfish. Maybe those sunlit smiles and most vulnerable moments are memories reserved just for you.

The car door opens again, and Jeonghan pokes his head in, handing you a plastic bag as he gets in.

“Sustenance,” is all he says. “Eat before you go to class or I’ll have to deal with your hangry whining after.”

His words sound annoyed, but his tone is soft with you, like it usually is. You flash him a grateful smile before pulling the boxes out.

“What’s this?”

“Avocado toast, but yours has egg on it.” He wrinkles his nose with displeasure at the combination. “Plus a little sweet treat for your caffeine addiction.”

“This is beautiful,” you hold up the tiramisu box. “The caffeine is speaking to me, Hannie. We are one and the same.”

“One would think you’re on drugs.”

“One would think living with a chemistry major would teach you that caffeine is a drug,” you tease, sinking your teeth into the golden toast. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now — maybe you shouldn’t have skipped dinner last night. “Wow, this is good.”

“It is,” Jeonghan agrees, “but I’ll stick with no eggs for now.”

“You’re just ignorant and have bad taste.”

“Again, free pass only because it’s your birthday.” Jeonghan waits for you to swallow, then asks, “So, does twenty-one feel any different?”

“Nope,” you say decidedly. “Why would it? The only thing that’s changed is that drinking is legal now.”

“Oh, and you can gamble.”

“Right, but I don’t have enough savings to do that.”

Jeonghan laughs to himself at a stray memory. “Remember when I turned twenty-one? I’ve never had a night more disastrous than that one.”

“I do remember! Anyone would assume you were a raging alcoholic,” you snicker. “Even Soonyoung felt the need to sober up and help me get you back to your place. Do you know how impossible that is for him?”

Jeonghan looks like he’s questioning his whole life. “Yeah, that is pretty bad,” he admits. “Good thing it hasn’t happened since and I’m a responsible alcohol enjoyer now.”

“You drank a whole bottle of soju before your exam last week because you ‘needed to pregame’ or you’d fail it.”

“... Right.”

The two of you eat in silence, careful not to drop crumbs in his car, enjoying the midday quiet with each other’s company and nothing else. It’s moments like these with him that you cherish the most.

Yeonju’s Don’t be so delusional echoes in your head, like a silent rebuke.

“Hey, we should start heading back,” Jeonghan says, glancing at the time. “Let this be the day that Y/N graces the lecture hall with her presence.”

You groan, not wanting to spend another hour and a half trying not to doze off listening to who is possibly the most boring professor at your entire university. Jeonghan pats your back empathetically.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you, “Just think about how you’ll feel later when it’s all over and done with.”

“I’ll feel like it was a huge waste of time and I could have just asked Wonwoo to catch me up,” you grumble.

Jeonghan’s smile falters a little bit at the mention of your classmate, one of Soonyoung’s friends and therefore a part of the friend group. You still can’t figure out why Jeonghan isn’t too fond of him, but you just assume they haven’t had the opportunity to connect as much and brush it off.

“He got me through data structures last semester,” you offer, trying to defend your point. “Or I’d probably have failed.”

“Right, I remember,” Jeonghan says absentmindedly. You don’t say anything more until you’re back on campus again, picking up on his sensitive mood. When you start making your way to your lecture hall, he follows you, and you let him.

“I’ll walk you to class, I have to print something out at the student center, anyways,” he explains, bag on one shoulder. “Also, you left this in the car. Eat it after class, or whenever.”

You take the plastic bag he hands you, the faint scent of coffee filling your nose. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan fills your ears with silly stories about his friends over the short walk and you listen carefully, always happy to hear about the boys. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them anyways; you’ve been swamped with work, and time that all of you have free together is quite rare.

“I should go in now,” you tell him when you reach the hall. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you might as well, and Jeonghan can easily read the annoyance written on your face. He pats your shoulder gently.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “Come over later so we can all eat cake and listen to you rant about your god-awful professor.”

“Okay.”

“And so you can get an eyeful of Joshua’s arms, you freaking pervert.”

You gasp. “Am not!” you screech, punching his arm.

“Ow!”

“Take it back!”

“Not afraid to speak my truth,” Jeonghan says instead, feigning injury. “This is literally abuse.”

You roll your eyes. “Get out.”

“Go in.”

“Fine,” you huff, pulling open the double doors, but you look back over your shoulder before you let them close behind you. “See you later?”

Jeonghan nods, a twinkle in his eye.

(You won’t know it now, but this is the look on his face that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.)

“See you later.”

Choi Yeonju is, you discover, the lightweight of all lightweights.

That title had belonged to Soonyoung up until now, but tonight even he’s watching her in disbelief from where he’s perched on Joshua and Jeonghan’s couch.

“I only gave her a shot,” he promises you, eyes big and pleading. “I swear on my life.”

“I know,” you sigh, grabbing her sleeve and pulling her away from the wall she’s about to faceplant into. “It’s okay, I’ve got an eye on her.”

“Sorry,” Soonyoung offers sheepishly. “I know you were planning on getting wasted tonight.”

You were not, in fact, planning on that at all. “Who told you that?”

“Jeonghan?”

“That evil bastard.”

The evil bastard in question is currently deeply immersed in a card game with a couple of others at the small kitchen table. The subtle flush on his face tells you he’s a couple of drinks in, and if you squint enough, you can see the silhouette of cards hidden in the sleeve of his jacket. Typical.

“Y/N!” Yeonju taps your shoulder urgently. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

She grins. “I wanna go to the bathroom.”

“Alright, come on. You gotta stand up,” you inform her gently when she doesn’t budge from her spot on the sofa.

“Comfy,” is all she says, mumbling into the furniture.

“Do you still need to go to the bathroom?”

“No.”

Soonyoung just looks at you in total confusion and shrugs.

“Nothing to do about it until she asks again,” he says before sinking into the couch beside her. He still looks relatively sober — sober enough to handle the situation if Yeonju decides to walk into a wall again — so you tell him you’ll be right back and decide to check in on the game going on.

You walk in on a crime scene.

“You!” Seungkwan throws an accusing finger at Jeonghan, who you can tell is playing innocent through his surprised expression. “You rigged the game!”

“I didn’t do anything! I won fair and square!”

“Count the cards,” Seungkwan tells Wonwoo vengefully. “There won’t be fifty-two, I’m telling you!”

Jeonghan stands suddenly, laying his hand on the table. Everyone else is too busy yelling amongst themselves, and Wonwoo seems to be content with watching them argue, but you catch the way Jeonghan slips the cards in his sleeve into the pile unassumingly.

“Excuse me, boys,” he says smugly, “but I’m going to go on a little victory walk. Don’t mind me, enjoy!”

Seungkwan grumbles, but lets him go in favor of helping Seokmin back into the chair he’s just fallen off of. In the meantime, Jeonghan sidles up to you, faintly smelling of tequila.

“You seem very sober,” he observes.

“I am,” you laugh. “Not entirely, but sober enough to notice the cards you stashed during the game.”

Jeonghan’s face morphs into one of surprise, then mirth. “Shh,” he winks, placing a finger on your lips. That alone short-circuits your brain, so you nearly miss his next words. “It can be our little secret.”

“Oh, you are tipsy tipsy,” you murmur, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’re up for that victory walk you were talking about.”

“I am! I’m so up for it,” he announces, tucking his arm in yours. “Let’s go take a walk outside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“What’s four plus four?”

He rolls his eyes. “Ninety-two,” he says sarcastically. “Please, I’m not a lightweight like the rest of our friends.”

You cast a glance at the couch; Soonyoung has been roped into listening into whatever story Yeonju’s telling him very animatedly, sitting attentively with his back unnaturally straight. He looks a little scared of her energetic narration, which is a first for someone like him.

They should be fine, right? You don’t plan on being gone for long — usually you wouldn’t think twice about leaving Soonyoung and Yeonju together, but in their current state you’re not sure how chaotic they’ll get.

“They’ll be fine.” Jeonghan mirrors your thoughts as if he’s read your mind. His voice feels a little too close, like his lips are right by your ear. Too close, too close — you’re faintly aware of your breathing accelerating, heart running on sheer adrenaline.

By the time you snap out of it, he’s already at the door, turning to find you when he realizes you’re not next to him. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” is all you can manage before you grab your coat off the hook and follow him out the door. A part of you wishes Yeonju was sober so she could slap the delusion out of you.

Jeonghan opts for the stairs — “We’re only on the second floor!” — and is waiting patiently at the main door for you. The smile he greets you with is blinding, and his eyes crinkle a little more when you return it.

“Did you bring your keys?”

“Right here.” Jeonghan pats his pocket reassuringly and pulls the door open. “After you, m’lady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you laugh, reveling in the moment.

It’s windy outside, and you glance over at Jeonghan, satisfied to see that he’s dressed warmly for once. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and for a man his size, his thick sweater is draped over his body in a way that makes him look a little smaller. It’s adorable, and it just makes you want to reach over and squish his cheeks.

“You’re awfully quiet for a man who just won a game against Boo Seungkwan,” you tease gently. Jeonghan chuckles, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

“Nothing new,” he says. “Seungkwan just has bad strategy and won’t admit it.”

“Or you just enjoy cheating a little too much.”

He gives you a knowing smile. “Touché.”

You’re not exactly sure where you’re going; you don’t think Jeonghan does, either, but the two of you fall in step together perfectly on the sidewalk. It’s not too late yet, maybe nine or ten, and the streets are relatively crowded, as expected for a college city.

“Do you think we’ll be really different when we’re thirty?”

You look at Jeonghan, a bit surprised at the question. “What do you mean?”

“Like, we’re twenty-one now,” he explains, “Remember when we were sixteen? We had so many ideas about what we were gonna be, and we’re already there. Five years passed so quickly.”

You nod, reminiscent of your childhood days. “We’re gonna hit thirty before we know it.”

“Do you think I’ll be bald by thirty?”

“If you are, I’ll take lots of pictures of you and your shiny head,” you joke. “For memories.”

“Noo, not my hair,” Jeonghan laments theatrically. “My gorgeous, gorgeous hair.”

You can’t even counter that, because it’s true: Jeonghan must have won the gene pool because his hair has always been soft and silky. It’s longer now than it used to be, curling a little bit just under his ears and brushing the back of his neck.

“Soonyoung’s been campaigning for you to go platinum blond,” you inform him. “He keeps saying if you do it, he’ll dye his whole head bright yellow.”

“Highlighter Soonyoung is really not something I want to see.”

The more the wind picks up, the tighter Jeonghan has his arm looped around yours. His lips are pursed, like he’s preoccupied with something else.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Are we still gonna be friends when we’re thirty years old?”

The subtle, vulnerable tone in his voice surprises you a little bit. Drunk words are sober thoughts, you suppose.

You try to cheer him up, saying, “Why, did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“No,” he shakes his head firmly. “Everything is so much easier with you.”

Don’t be delusional, don’t be delusional, is the mantra in your head as you attempt to ignore your rapid heartbeat. The truth is that you agree — the way Jeonghan just gets you makes things so uncomplicated and free.

It’s been this way since middle school, when twelve-year-old you found home in the boy who always helped you sneak snacks from your desk during class when the teacher wasn’t watching.

Jeonghan has always been the first person you think of in a sticky situation; he’s always been reliable, above all, because he knows you would do the same for him without even needing to think about it. He’s been by your side for so long, you can’t even picture what a life without him would look like now.

Your next words would never see the light of day had Jeonghan been sober, but you suppose you can get away with erring on the side of honesty.

“Me too,” you tell him quietly, holding onto him just a little bit tighter. “I like life a little better when it’s with you.”

because i love you, because saying i love you isn't enough

PRESENT DAY

The office is quiet when it’s late at night; there aren’t many people who enjoy staying past their stated hours, but you figure it can’t hurt to finish some additional tasks when you don’t really have much to go home to. You can’t remember the last time you had a day to yourself without worrying about deadlines; the lines of code haunt you in your sleep and fill every waking hour. Every night spent working overtime is a testament to your determination, though it crumbles it a little each time.

Today, though, you’re joined by Junhui and Wonwoo, the three of you working under the dim light. The rest of your team packed up and left hours ago, so it’s just you on this floor of the building.

“I feel like my eyes are melting in their sockets,” Junhui complains, stretching for the first time in what you think is a solid eight hours. “I don’t know how Wonwoo does it.”

“He’s a machine,” you joke. He’s got headphones on, most probably noise canceling, so you know he can’t hear you two. (Or he’s choosing not to.) “I just don’t want to go home with this stuff unfinished because I know I won’t stop thinking about it all night.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pulled an all-nighter in the office.”

“Unfortunately.”

Junhui frowns. “You need to take time for yourself,” he expresses. You let him lecture you, even though he’s younger. “Do stuff that you enjoy that doesn’t involve writing code. You know, enrich your personal life.”

“Maybe,” you sigh, putting your head in your hands. “There’s barely any time as of now.”

“Speaking of personal lives, I still can’t believe you won’t tell me about your date,” he sulks. “You’ve always come back with stories about your dates.”

“There haven’t even been that many,” you say at the same time Wonwoo turns around with his headphones off of one ear, asking, “Date? Really?”

You give the man a look. “You didn’t hear us say your name, but that was what caught your attention?”

“Well, Jun’s always talking, but the last time you went on a date was two years ago, so this is news to me.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Junhui reasons. “Everyone has bad dates. It’s a universal experience.”

“Okay, first of all, it was not a date,” you clarify. “I just met up with a friend from college.”

This piques Wonwoo’s interest. “Wait, really? Who?”

“Right, I keep forgetting you guys went to college together,” Junhui mutters under his breath.

“Did you see Yeonju again?”

“It was nobody,” you lie through your teeth, kicking yourself internally for your choice of words. As much as both men know about your ongoing tug-of-war situation with Jeonghan, you don’t really want to bring it up in conversation, and definitely not now of all times. “It went fine, just some catching up.”

“So it wasn’t a date?”

“You really need to stop believing everything Junhui tells you without fact checking it first.”

“Damn,” he says. “And we thought you were finally getting some action.”

“Wonwoo!”

The conversation is interrupted by the low rumble of your stomach in the few seconds of silence that pass afterwards. Both men turn to look at you expectantly.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “I’m starving.”

“I’ll order takeout,” Wonwoo volunteers, already reaching for his phone. “Is kimchi fried rice okay with you guys?”

“Fine by me.”

“With pork?” Junhui asks hopefully.

“Done.”

The three of you promptly get back to work, aiming to maximize the amount of work you get done before the food arrives and you inevitably break focus. By the time the delivery notification goes off on Wonwoo’s phone, you’ve knocked off about three quarters of your to-do list for the day.

Good enough, you reassure yourself, pulling the sticky note off of your desk and flicking it into the trash can.

Junhui eats in a record time of ten minutes — you swear you’ve never seen him scarf down food this fast before — and starts packing up at his desk, dropping off a couple of notes on Seungcheol’s desk for tomorrow morning’s meeting.

“My girlfriend is going to be so upset if I’m not home soon,” he says ruefully, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Take care, guys! And thanks for dinner, Wonwoo, I owe you one.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You and Wonwoo finish not too long after, and you take your time cleaning up the place, making sure everything is thrown away and in its place.

“Are you ready to lock up and go?”

“Yeah, let’s head out.”

It’s not until you’re in the elevator, heading to the parking garage, that Wonwoo speaks up again. A little hesitantly at first, but the concern in his tone is still evident.

“Hey, has everything been good with you lately?”

“Hm?” You look at him curiously, wondering what it was that made him ask. “Yeah, why?”

He shrugs, looking down at you through thick-rimmed glasses. “Just haven’t checked in with you in a bit. Seungcheol’s needed me all over the place lately, so it’s been a while since I caught up with you guys.”

“Right, you’ve been in back to back meetings with the design team,” you muse. “Seolhwa was talking about how chaotic it’s been in the restroom earlier.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty tough.”

The elevator opens with a ding! and you follow him out, fishing for your keys that are probably somewhere in one of your pockets.

“I parked a little far,” you tell him, “so I’ll get going now. But I’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting, right?”

Wonwoo just looks at you gently, like he’s seeing right through you.

“Jeonghan’s the one you met up with, isn’t he?”

You freeze. “What?”

“I had a feeling, but it was a little more obvious when you started getting defensive,” he chuckles. “Plus, I think you forget I’ve known you for nearly a decade now.”

You allow yourself to breathe, relaxing the taut muscles in your neck. “I didn’t want to make it awkward,” you admit. “I know you said you guys still keep in touch sometimes. I don’t want to make it weird.”

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows. “Just for birthdays and things like that. We weren’t really that close in college, either.”

Not really knowing what to say, you stay silent, eyes glued to the ground. He seems to sense this and drops the matter, reaching over to pat your shoulder.

“I won’t pry,” he says lightly, “But if you ever want to talk about it, just know you can always call up an old friend.”

You smile. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”

“Take care, Y/N. Get home safe.”

The drive home is numbing. The playlist you have on dulls into background noise as you focus on the road, fighting the urge to yawn. It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night, and all you want is to be back in your bed.

At the back of your mind, all you can think about is the text you woke up to this morning.

yoon jeonghan: hey, i just wanted to tell you tomorrow is my last day in seoul

yoon jeonghan: i don’t know if you want to see me or not, but i’ll be at semicolon cafe working for most of the day. pls drop by if you have some free time. i really miss you.

So typical of him, to leave it up to you to go find him. And yet, you would — if it came down to it, you would go to the ends of the earth if he asked you to.

Yeonju would be furious if you told her you were even considering it, you scold yourself. After all, she’d only told you to speak to him once for your own peace of mind. Last week should have given you all the closure you needed.

Still, your conscience is swayed at the idea of being able to see him again.

You shake the thoughts out of your head, as if the subtle action could erase the pain and longing you’ve felt for the past eight years.

The traffic light turns green. You step on the gas and don’t look back.

even if i can't be the perfect weather for you, will you still love me like this?

SIX YEARS AGO

Jeonghan has been in the studio for hours.

Nothing seems to sound right, and the frustration makes him want to pull his hair out. He can’t even remember the last time he got out of the chair, but he doesn’t want to lose even a little bit of whatever workflow he’s managed to maintain while he’s been in here.

Occasionally, when the weather is just a little dull and time seems to tick by too slowly, he wonders if he made the right choice. Maybe he should have stuck with his career, actually put his degree to use, instead of setting it aside in the name of passion.

He’s vocalized these thoughts to his manager many times, and Jihoon is awfully good at raising his spirits, but the self doubt seeping into his soul is very hard to ignore.

Reluctantly, he presses the play button again, whatever he’s conjured up in the last couple of hours playing in his headphones again. It doesn’t sound any better this time.

Yes, he could swallow his pride and ask Jihoon for help, but after a year and a half of unsuccessful ventures in the music industry, he wants to be able to do something on his own.

Prove himself; to Jihoon, the world, and you.

Jeonghan will never forget your only words to him when he’d first revealed his plan to switch career paths, just a month or two before graduation.

(“I always believe in you,” you’d said, following it up with a comforting hug.

“Always?”

“Always.”)

And when you said that with such conviction, placing all of that trust and belief in his hands, he knew there was no way he could turn back on what he’d set his sights on. In truth, on days where things just seem so bleak, you are his strength, and he wishes he could tell you that.

But when your name comes through on his phone, he falters.

What is he supposed to say? All he can give is excuses, that nothing’s really worked, nothing has panned out in his favor yet. As it is, the two of you haven’t spoken that much since graduating, both of you occupied with your own goals and careers, and at times like these he feels your absence a little extra.

Is this what it means to grow up and grow apart?

For now, he ignores the buzzing, telling himself he’ll come back when he’s snagged his first real achievement. You’ll be proud of him, and he’ll finally make something of himself.

Jihoon walks into the room, closing the door quietly, right when he’s about to listen to the track for maybe the hundredth time.

“Oh, hey.” Jeonghan can hear the exhaustion in his own voice. “What’s up?”

“Wondering when the last time you slept was.” Jihoon sinks into the chair beside him, trying to lighten the mood. “You look like a zombie.”

“Yeah, I feel like one.”

“You need to spend less time in here,” Jihoon advises gently. “Or you’re going to lose your mind. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“I just can’t figure out what it is I’m missing,” Jeonghan sighs, evidently frustrated. “It’s like, almost there, but not really. It’s been killing me for days.”

“You know, these things do take time.”

“Or maybe I’m just not cut out for this and I should just go work for a news channel instead.”

Jihoon watches him carefully, picking up on his slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “And then you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you held on just a little bit longer. Do you really want that?”

Jeonghan doesn’t really know what else to say. He’s been hearing the same things from everyone around him — his parents, his sister; everyone talks of a future where he’s already succeeded, but that isn’t set in stone. Nothing is promised, he knows.

“I need a miracle,” he mumbles instead.

“You need to eat,” Jihoon corrects. “I just placed an order for dinner, and I know you like sundubu-jjigae, so you have no excuse to bail on me this time.”

Jeonghan considers this for a moment, then gives in. “Fine,” he says, “but I can’t stay too long.”

“Good.” Jihoon rises, and then places a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.”

“Thank you.”

He’s alone again, when the door closes behind the shorter man. It’s something he’s had to get used to; he’s learned to rely on himself over the past year or so, but when the reality of loneliness sinks in, it breaks his heart just a little.

Even more so knowing that it’s his fault that he’s pushed everyone away, including you.

Your name is still burned into Jeonghan’s brain, and his fingers itch to respond, but he ignores the urge. His phone is left forgotten as he slips his headphones on again, tinkering with the unfinished track.

And the thought of you dissolves into the music.

we used to be best friends, i remember you said you can be yourself when i'm around

PRESENT DAY

Today is the day that Choi Seungcheol learns that you are full of surprises.

In all your five years of working for him, he’s never once had you call in sick for work or ask for a day off. You’ve always been hard-working, maybe too much at times, but he sounds like he definitely didn’t anticipate this.

“Oh,” is all he says when you request the morning off. “Yeah, sure. Are you feeling alright?”

“Not really, but I will be before the client meeting at three, so I’ll be present for that.”

“Oh, all right. We’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

It weighs on your conscience that the first time you request time off also happens to be the first time you blatantly lie to your boss, but you’ve already deliberated this enough with Yeonju over call last night.

(“I’ve been such an honest worker,” you said dramatically, “and now I’m running all that to the ground.”

“Don’t be so theatrical. Choi Seungcheol can afford to give you half a day of paid leave.”)

Now that you’ve settled that, you grab your heavy winter coat, setting out into the morning cold. Damn Yoon Jeonghan for making you move your whole day around for him. You had predicted correctly that Yeonju would berate you for it — you sat through a lecture over the phone last night — but that hadn’t deterred your resolve to see him again.

Who knows? His behavior is so erratic that even you, who knew him like the back of your hand at one point, can’t predict him anymore. Today could very well be the last time you see him for another few years until he decides he has the time for you again.

Whatever, you huff to yourself as you walk briskly, knowing that as upset as you get, the soft spot you harbor for him will never go away.

You had worried that it would be a little too early, since it’s only eight in the morning, but you have no problem finding Jeonghan in the sea of caffeine-deprived corporate workers getting their fix in the small establishment. He’s engrossed in his laptop, and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you take the seat across from him, waiting for him to look up.

“Oh,” is all he says, pushing his screen down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t think I would, either.”

Jeonghan gives you a sorrowful look, hair fluffy like a halo around his face. “I’m trying, I really am.”

“Jeonghan —”

“I’m juggling so many things at once,” he says quietly. “And I never wanted you to think any less of me. I wanted you to be proud of me..”

“I was. I still am.”

“But I still haven’t done anything.” He sounds more agitated as he speaks. “I haven’t gotten anywhere, I’ve barely made a name for myself. Nothing I do is paying off.”

“You’re trying, though,” you tell him. It saddens you to see him like this. It’s not often that Jeonghan talks about how he feels, especially not now that you’ve grown so distant. “And you don’t have to go off and accomplish great things for me to be proud of you. I already am.”

He’s quiet, like he’s dwelling on something.

“I’m sorry,” he says a few seconds later. “It’s just all been such a mess.”

“That’s okay.”

In the silence between those two words are many more that don’t need to be spoken for him to understand. You’re doing okay. Everything will turn out okay.

“I wish things could go back to the way they were,” he says again, eyes a little shiny when he looks back at you.

Nostalgia fills your brain, all of those treasured memories with him resting in a well-lit corner of your heart.

“You know, it really hurts, Han, to keep doing this push and pull with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” he laughs wistfully, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I never meant to hurt you, Y/N, honestly. And I’m really trying to be better about it. Things are looking up now, I think. It’s getting a little easier than before.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I knew you could do it.”

“How…” Jeonghan starts tentatively. “How long are you here for?”

“I’m not sure,” you reply, fidgeting with one of your bracelets. “Not too long.”

“Are you going to have something to eat?” An olive branch.

“I have food I meal-prepped at home.” A subtle denial.

The silence is loud. You try to think of something, anything to say to fill it, but you come up blank. There’s not much else to be said in the fraught air between the two of you. Not now, anyways.

“I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work,” you say suddenly, eyes landing on his half shut laptop. “I didn’t mean to take time out of your day.”

“That’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m really glad I got to see you.”

“Have a safe trip to… wherever you’re going.”

He chuckles. “Just Jeju, but thank you.”

Before you leave, you reach for the scarf loosely wrapped around your neck — your favorite one you’ve had since college, the plaid cream-colored one — and you set it down on the table. He just looks at you questioningly.

“Why…?”

“It’s cold,” you say with a faint smile. “You haven’t changed, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Thank you.”

You take the time to memorize him — the curve of his face, the soft look in his eyes, the one reserved for you and the ones he holds close. If you could etch his features in your brain here and now, you would.

“Well,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Don’t be a stranger, Han. The next time I see your name, it better be a call from you instead of another news headline.”

Jeonghan nods, eyes forming crescents. “I’ll do my best.”

And there is something to be said about the love in looking back, for sure, but there is also love in not looking back, in choosing to keep your eyes trained on the path before you. There is love in knowing your weaknesses, that if you turn around you might not be able to walk away after all.

You don’t release the breath you’re holding until you walk out the door. It’s raining, you realize with a start, the previously clear sky clouded over. It seems that your overcast heart has been mirrored by the earth.

The rhythmic droplets provide a strange sense of comfort as you let yourself get soaked, for lack of an umbrella. It works in your favor, anyway, because nobody will assume anything’s amiss if your face is already drenched.

Pit, pat. The smell of wet soil rises in your nostrils, and you let the tears fall.

no matter where i am in the world, i'll say it's you

FOUR YEARS LATER

The lights are blinding, and the sounds of the camera shutters are incessant. But this is the life Jeonghan has always dreamed of, so he doesn’t dare complain.

In truth, he doesn’t care for a lot of the interviews he’s been asked to do — he can’t be bothered by the mundane, mind-numbing questions he gets asked over and over again. Nothing ticks him off like the insensitive digs into his personal life they always ask him, searching for information he doesn’t wish to disclose.

But he does it, anyway, because what choice does he really have? It’s good for your image, Jihoon always tells him, adding another event to his schedule. It’s for your public platform.

“So, you’ve come out with another hit single,” the interviewer starts, beaming at him. His teeth are so artificially white, they seem to reflect the bright studio lights. “How does it feel to accomplish such a success yet again?”

“It’s really great,” Jeonghan answers honestly. “I’m very grateful to my manager, producer, and my beloved family. And, of course, all of the wonderful fans. I couldn’t have done any of this without them.”

“A touching answer as always, Jeonghan-ssi.” The man flashes a smile at the cameras. “Your new single To You was really well received by fans, especially for its fresh and passionate take on what it feels like to be in love.”

The blazer feels stiff now, under the heat of the lights. Jeonghan tries not to dwell too deeply on the true inspiration for the song he’d written late at night a couple years ago, overcome by his own heart.

“I’m really glad that everyone’s been enjoying it so much. That really was the intention,” he says, “to have a song that makes you feel like you’re floating.”

“And it does!” the interviewer laughs. “A lot of viewers really appreciated the sincerity of feelings that was conveyed through the song. Which raised the question; have you ever been in love before?”

Something akin to a late realization suddenly hits Jeonghan right there in the hot seat, under all those lights and cameras. His hand comes up to toy with the end of the scarf he’s wearing, a keepsake of treasured memories.

“Maybe,” he says with a wistful smile.

Wherever you are in the world right now, there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re watching.

“Maybe I have.”

thank you for reading! if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear it :) much love, ashi xx

#jeonghan x reader #svt #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt one shot #svt fics #svt jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #jeonghan friends to lovers #jeonghan one shot #jeonghan fics #kpop fanfic

41 notes · View notes

cjlouwho · 1 day ago

Note

How are the chances to get anything Rocker/Deacon out of you today?

No pressure or anything 👀

Gotta be honest, love, I'm feeling a little pressure... but I like it 😉

"I don't think we should keep doing this."

"Seems a little late now, don't ya think?"

"I'm serious, Rocker, I- I've got a wife. I've got kids. I- I gotta think about them."

"I- ohshityeah, right there, Baby." Rocker pushed himself up on his elbows, arching his back as Deacon slipped further inside him. "I- get that, I do, I just- I don't think right this second is when you should be making this decision."

Deacon groaned as he bottomed out, leaning over Rocker and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his back. "I go... I go by the church most days," he panted, "ask for forgiveness, say I won't do it again. Next day, I'm here again."

"That all I am to you?" Rocker asked bitterly. "Some dirty sin you gotta confess to the preacher?"

"Priest, actually."

Rocker growled, moving himself forward and pushing back onto Deacon with force. "Fucking move, asshole."

With an eye roll, Deacon sat back up. He grabbed hold of Rocker's hips and began fucking into him hard and fast. He watched his cock disappear into Rocker's hole over and over, his rim getting more pink and puffy with each thrust.

It was so fucking hot.

"Fuck," Rocker breathed out, spitting into his hand before reaching for his cock. "Deac, I- I'm not gonna last long."

Instead of responding, Deacon smacked Rocker's ass.

"Shit," Rocker hissed, coming over his hand and onto the sheet below them. He clenched around Deacon, working himself back on his cock. "Come on, David. Come in me. Wanna feel it."

Deacon held onto Rocker's hips so hard it was sure to leave behind bruises. He came in him with a moan, nearly lying on top of him as he came down from the orgasm.

Once he caught his breath, he carefully slipped out of Rocker. Rocker flipped onto his back, but Deacon made no effort to join him in the bed.

"Gotta get to the church?" Rocker asked with a smirk. "Let the priest know what we just did? Does he like all the dirty details?"

Deacon shook his head, gathering up his clothes. "I'm serious, Rocker, I- I can't keep doing this," he said as he started to get dressed. "It's over." He pulled his shirt over his head and zipped up his pants. "I'm sorry, but we're done."

"Okay, Deac," Rocker mumbled as Deacon left the room. He listened to his front door slam shut. "See you tomorrow."

#swat cbs #donovan rocker #swat #rockon #deacon kay

52 notes · View notes

royal-chandler · 1 day ago

Text

temporary/maybe permanent title is winter interlude. written for the lovely @caressthosecheekbones ✨

Henry is certain that he's only just fallen asleep when he’s nudged awake, Alex’s soft scratched voice at his ear and his hand giving Henry’s wrist a slight squeeze. Henry’s answer to his name is a long groan.

“Hen, baby. Can you wake up for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

Henry groans once more and burrows further into the pocket of warmth that’s been conjured from sleep, their thick cloud-like duvet, and Alex’s arms. He keeps his eyes shut and silently, drowsily wishes for Alex to concede. And of course, no such luck.

“I’ve got an amazing idea.”

“That for some ungodly reason can’t wait until morning?”

“It’s uh,” Henry feels Alex slightly shift away, imagines that he’s checking the nocturne glow of their bedside clock, “one thirty-six right now so technically...”

“Don’t even bother finishing that sentence.”

“Come on,” Alex draws out. He shakes Henry some more, as if he can transfuse enthusiasm through vibration or using Henry like a ketchup bottle that’s been sitting too long. “Come on, we’re losing starlight. Let’s get a move on.”

“Christ, Alex, what for?”

“It’s stopped snowing. We should go sledding.”

Henry snorts, incredulous in the quiet. “Fuck off.”

Clearly Alex has gone bonkers because there is no way on earth that Henry is dragging himself out of bed to charge down a hill of snow on a plastic death trap in freezing temperatures in the middle of the night.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Henry says, trudging through snow that’s at least twenty five centimetres deep at the rear of the White House.

At Henry’s side and tugging him and his sledge the last bit to the crest of the hill, Alex says, “It'll be fun.”

“Ah, yes.” Henry nods. Editorialised with bone-dry sarcasm, he continues, “Whenever I think about fun, frostbite is the first thing that springs to mind.”

“It is nowhere near cold enough for that.” Alex brings up their joined hands. “Plus, you’ve got your little cute gloves on. You’re good.”

The Aztec patterned gloves are secondhand from Alex, dug out of a closet cubby as he had pointedly made sure to mention that they were a gift from his abuela when he was thirteen and no longer fit.

Alex had also emphasised that Henry didn’t need to give them back. That it was a transfer of ownership. And they are very nice, the fingerless sort that convert into mittens. The yarn stretches comfortably and the pouches slip over Henry’s fingers just right.

“Everything will be fine,” Alex promises. He reaches out and clicks on Henry’s headtorch. His already lit grin is brilliantly illuminated. “Trust me.”

“There’s no question of that,” Henry returns. “I only ask why this couldn’t wait for the daytime? You know, how it’s normally done.”

Alex simply shrugs, his grin gentling into something flagrantly affectionate. “Because right now it's like the world is just us.”

And fuck, what is Henry supposed to argue against that?

“How are you winning?!” Alex drags his sledge behind him with one hand and wildly gestures with the other. “You didn’t even want to do this. I did not plan on you winning.”

Above him and at the top of the hill already, Henry props an elbow on his now vertical vehicle that’s planted in the snow, watching Alex with amusement. His boyfriend is exceptionally precious when he pouts. “My being reluctant to sledging doesn’t mean I’m not skilled at it.”

“Best of seven,” Alex huffs upon arrival.

“You have a problem. The terms were already agreed upon.”

“You scared?”

Alex then proceeds to emit the noises of a fowl.

“Resorting to primary school tactics, are we?”

Alex only lifts his brow, his expression dancing with challenge.

“I'm going to need some proper motivation, darling,” Henry says, sliding on a smirk.

“I could be a victim of clichés and offer mind-melting sex if you win but you get that all the time anyway.”

Henry breaks into helpless laughter and agrees when he finds the cold air to do so.

“So, instead, how about the next time I’m at the palace I take you up on those horseback lessons finally,” Alex says.

“Truly? You’ve always seemed—uncomfortable around them.”

“Well they are huge, intelligent beasts that can buck me off and launch me god knows how many miles an hour into the air.”

“Dramatic." He pauses, shaking his head. "Really, Alex. You don’t have to.”

“You love it and it’s something we can do together. I’d like to try it out,” Alex says and he sounds sincere. “If I don’t enjoy the experience, I won't be shy about it.”

“And if you win? What do you want?”

“Here’s where I do get pervy."

"Of course."

"I win and you let me buy you a pair of cowboy boots and a Stetson and you wear them for me.”

“Nothing else, I’m assuming.”

“Anything else would get in the way, Henry.”

“You’re on.”

Minutes and minutes later, victory is Henry’s and he graciously accepts Alex’s request for a final run, plopping down on the front of Alex’s sledge when he makes a grabby motion for Henry, his legs open. Their combined weight rips them downslope, easily the record of the night. They’re a powdery pile at the bottom when they come to a stop short of the treeline with a sharp turn and tumble off the sledge.

“You alright?” Henry asks.

“I should be asking you. You’re the one who cushioned my fall. Am I smothering you?"

“It's all fine for now, love. You’ll be nursing my aching bruises later.”

“Obviously.” Alex animates the line of his brow. “Just call me the love doctor.”

“Won’t be doing that, thanks," Henry comments. Using his teeth—due to most of him being trapped under Alex—Henry yanks back the pouch of his right mitten. He assesses the snarled wreckage of Alex’s hair that’s been freed of the headtorch and clumsily combs through it with chilled fingers. There’s a small scratch by Alex’s temple. Henry thumbs away the paper-cut thin trace of red and finds Alex’s perfect eyes. “You didn’t let me win, did you?”

“Me? Never. I lost,” Alex insists, sweetly leaning his head into Henry’s touch. His adoration is spotless if not his honesty. “Life rolls on.”

Henry considers calling Alex out but a shiver distracts him, stalls his tongue.

Alex’s arms around him tighten and with their physical arrangement, it’s plenty awkward. It’s also loving. He ridiculously presses a kiss to Henry’s wintry-wet palm. “Cold?”

Spellbound, Henry murmurs, “A bit, yeah.”

“I’ve got a way to get you warm,” Alex shares quietly.

Henry moans and licks at his lips, chasing the flavor off his mouth. “This is sinful.”

“I know,” Alex says after a long sip from his UT mug. “Nothing beats Mexican hot chocolate.”

“And the amaretto? Ugh, chef’s kiss.”

“Discovered that little addition four Christmases ago.”

Henry smiles at him and eats another mini marshmallow. “The man’s a genius.”

“Yeah, my ideas aren’t all shit that will have us needing Icy Hot the next day,” Alex replies, his gaze dropping to where their sock feet share the spindle of a kitchen stool.

Henry lightly kicks him. Kicks him again to get his full attention. “Tonight wasn’t shit.”

“No?”

“No.”

Alex sighs, abandons his drink to rub at his stubbled jaw. “Snow felt like—like a fresh start. A renewal, I guess. Getting rid of yesterday. I know it’s not that easy, that it doesn’t work like that and it’s fucking stupid—”

His heart sore and swollen, Henry closes the distance that parts them, hushes Alex’s doubt with a slow and open kiss. He kisses past the cling of sugar and spice, until it’s clean.

“I love you,” Henry says. His words are only a fraction of what he means but he knows Alex can read the spaces between. Thank you. It helps. You help.

“Love you still. Love you always.” Alex curls into him, his hand over Henry’s knee.

He’s there. He’s there, Henry knows because he can read Alex’s spaces just as well.

please forgive any mistakes. i read over it but it was written very quickly. also, i’m fairly sure there are no hills behind the white house. the grounds are pretty flat but for some reason this fic insisted on being there.

#firstprince #rwrb #rwrb fic #alex x henry #red white and royal blue #my fic #my writing

38 notes · View notes

writing-till-i-am-dead · 2 days ago

Text

Stargoth oneshot - Letter

It's not like Buddy liked Chase. He didn't. Honest, he really didn't. And you know he's being honest because he never lies... ok, well, he's lied a couple times.. actually, he's lied a lot. But he's really not lying about this. Because, what is there to like about this idiot? Because that is what he is, an idiot. Plain and simple. With his obviously fake blonde hair and forever-outside voice. The guy should just get the hell out of his way if he knows what's good for him. And that's what he's been telling him.

But he never thought Chase would actually listen.

3 weeks. 3 whole weeks since Chase has been in a book. This was starting to seriously piss him off. Where the hell was he?

Now, reader, before you start getting ideas that Buddy actually misses Chase, you better think again. Chase has something he wants, the heroine key, and that is it. He just wants the key, so fuck off if you're questioning his honesty in the beginning.

"Buddy?" calls out a voice, to which Buddy immediately jumped. But don't think he was excited! Or startled. He was merely jumped into action to follow it. However, he quickly realized that wasn't the voice of the blonde, but rather the even more unbearable brunette.

"What are you doing with the heroine key?" Buddy asks, leaning against the stone archway. He looks around. Another high-fantasy novel with a castle. He's starting to figure out who's the one choosing these books in the first place.

Deacon whips his head around to face Buddy. "Geez. How do you do that?"

"Hm? Do what?"

"Just.. appear out of nowhere? Like you're teleporting or something?"

Buddy scoffed. This idiot really thought he was teleporting? As if someone could top Chase's idiocy. "You still haven't answered my question."

Deacon sighs. "Chase has been.. whining, lately."

Buddy scoffs. "When is he not?"

This got a chuckle from the brunette.

"You guys had some sort of fight in the last book you did together?"

Buddy raised an eyebrow and tried to remember. But, he and Chase would always fight, so he couldn't remember any of the specifics. "Probably."

Deacon rubbed his face, clearly frustrated. Deacon seemed to get peeved with Chase a lot, which gave Buddy a sick satisfaction. Not because he's jealous, of course not. But because if the two don't work well together, it'll be easier to make them crack. Give him information. Stop trying to twist his words.

Deacon groaned. "Well, something you said seriously offended him and he's refusing to use Silver, and has been using Bronze, instead."

Buddy felt his eye twitch, Deacon noticing and taking a step back. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger."

"What did I say that could've offended him that badly?!"

"Hey, you know how fragile his ego is."

Buddy makes a light 'tsk' and puts his hands on his hips. "Well this definitely is.. annoying." Before you think I'm annoyed because now I won't see him, that is not the reason. It's annoying because Chase was a much bigger slip up than his ugly, freckled companion. Buddy can extract more information from him.

"Tell me about it. We've had lots of trouble collecting narratonin now, since the heroine key.. yknow.. summons you."

Buddy raises an eyebrow. "Well, then. He must not be that determined to collect it, huh?"

"Don't talk like that, Buddy. You don't know. He's been telling me to use the key, as long as I go into different books. But I just haven't wanted to deal with you on my own."

Buddy nods in agreement. "I would rather rip my hair out then be alone with you."

"Look. All I ask is you apologize."

"Look," Buddy says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't even know what it is I said that is worth an apology."

"It was something about his singing, I think? And the narratonin? He gets really heated everytime he talks about it and then shuts down.

Ya, that did sound familiar. Buddy rubbed his temples in an attempt to remember.

"Snap and clap and touch your toes! Raise your hands, now body roll! Dance it out, you're hot to gooooo!!"

"CAN YOU STOP THAT!?" Buddy snaps. "You've been singing that tune all day!"

Chase rolls his eyes. "You are just jealous of my singing."

"Oh trust me, I am anything but. You're singing is like nails on a chalkboard. Grating and makes me wish I didn't have ears! You better hope you collect enough narratonin fast, before too many people are cursed to have listen to your voice and will never give you another chance to sing, even when you use the narratonin to make you bearable to listen to!"

....

Chase left the story after he said that. But Buddy hadn't sweat it too much. Why would he? They always bicker. But based on the look that Deacon was giving him, he could tell that he had screwed up.

"That's.. definitely too far, Buddy."

"I- How was I supposed to know he'd take it to heart?!"

Deacon shakes his head. "Look, whatever. You can't take back what you said and that's fine. But you can at least make up for it. Maybe write him a letter? The bedroom I woke up in the basement had a desk and some paper. Maybe go write something in there?"

Buddy raises a brow before tilting his head back. "Fine! Whatever. Only because of my own reasons, though! Not because I feel bad. Don't go and get the wrong idea!" he calls out as he enters back into the castle, bulldozing through guards.

"Move, move, Evil Queen, make way." He reads down the spiral staircase, twists and turns, twists and turns. By the time his feet hurt in his heeled shoes, he finally reached the basement.

The room felt all too familiar. Small, box shaped with a thick layer of dust on every surface. A creaky bed, about as soft as a rock, and blankets covered in bed bugs. This... was why he didn't really want the heroine key. Of course, he's still going to retrieve it. It's part of his job. But he will never use it. He's already got a crappy life. Why make himself live through another's?

He sits himself in a creaky oak chair, which gave him a few splinters, causing him to flinch. A small pile of thick paper and a quill with mostly dried out ink. But, still good to use. He wish he knew why his words upset Chase so much. Not because he genuinely feels bad, but because it would make this letter less of a hassle to write. He scribbles up in the corner of the parchment to check if the ink works. He then taps a couple of times in an effort to think of what to write. Buddy, despite all of his time dedicated to reading books, has never been good at words. Things never come out right and he always overthinks it, always adding parenthesis and commas to make his point more clear, out of the fear he's not being explicit enough.

"Dear Chase,

I still cannot believe that you let slip what your name was. You truly are

I apologize that my words had offended you. I may not know what you plan to do with the narratonin, probably something stu. Your singing is really not that bad. It only makes me want to claw my ears off a little. I do think that you can have a big audience if you put your voice out there, with or without the narratonin.

-Sincerely, 'buddy'"

Buddy stared at the letter, questioning everything he wrote, but decided it was... good enough.. ya, it's not like Chase is worth that kind of effort..

He folds up the paper and stuck it into his back pocket. He looked up the staircase once more and let's out a long sigh as he made the long trip once more. Twists and turns galore with each step. The guards quickly moved as to not get pushed out of the way again. He found the ugly boy standing outside, waiting for him. He shoved the letter into his chest. "Here."

Deacon let's out a huff and nods. "All right. I'll see you later, Buddy."

Buddy simply just rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

The boy pulls out the Helper Key, wrapped around his neck, and the he's gone. Buddy looks at the spot where he had disappeared before mentally scolding himself for being so hopeful.

~~~~

It's not like Chase liked Buddy. He didn't. Because what is there to like about that jerk? He's an aggressive prick who does nothing but provoke him. With his incredible eyeliner and deep voice... He should just leave Chase alone. And that's what he's been telling him.

So he stopped bothering and has been properly avoiding him.

Ho could he not? It wasn't the comment about his singing, although that had hurt, but the fact that Buddy thinks he's so shallow that being famous is Chase's biggest concern. And the way Buddy said it didn't ound like just a jab because he was mildly annoyed. It sounded genuine. Like her really thinks so low of Chase. Maybe Chase took it so seriously is because earlier in the day, before he said that, Chase had visited his mom.

His moping is interrupted by a knocking at his door. He looks up and sees his cousin, Deacon, standing in the doorway.

"Where were you?" Chase asks. Deacon hands him a paper.

"It's from Buddy."

Chase sucked in a breath. Buddy. Buddy!? Buddy sent him a letter?

His heart was racing and his hands were clammy. No way. No. Way. Why was he getting so excited. Stop it, heart!! He pats his chest a couple of times to ease his rapid heart rate before he folded the paper open.

He scanned through the words, squinting as he made out some of the scribbled out sentences, and he finishes it off with a deep frown.

"What's with that face?" Deacon asks.

"This is kind of a crappy apology. There are multiple scratched out sentences that was just him being petty."

Deacon takes the paper and reads over it. "Hm. I mean.. ya, it seems kind of backhanded, but at the same time, since when has Buddy gone out of his way to do something like this i the first place?"

"You probably just told him to do it."

"Ya.. but what about the fact that he actually listened?"

Chase froze and looks back at the letter, feeling his face flush slightly. Damnit. He had a good point. He crumbles up the letter and was about to toss it into the trash, but stopped himself and instead tossed it onto his desk.

"Give me my key."

Deacon smirks.

"Don't smile at me like that."

Deacon quickly stifles it and hands Chase the key. Chase gets up ad grabs a totally random book and crams the key into the cover. The last thing he heard was, "Wait, not that book!"

Chase's eyes opened and the first thing he's met with is excruciating pain. He's impaled. He screams at the top of his lungs and standing over him is Buddy, whose eyes are equally as wide as he stares down at Chase.

"What kind of book did you choose?!" Buddy exclaims, quickly pulling the spear out of Chase's chest, who's left panting and throbbing in pain. Buddy squats down and looks over him. "Deep breaths. The main character of this book has healing powers."

Chase tightly close his eyes and feels the gash slowly close up. He lays down in the ground, panting. "SHIT! I just needed to talk to you. Just my luck."

Buddy chuckles, actually chuckles, which feels like another stab to the heart, but kind of in a good way???

"You got excited to see me?" Buddy asks.

Chase scoffs. "I just came to talk to you about that letter."

Buddy goes quiet. "Hm. You seem upset? Was it not to your liking, your majesty?"

"Eat a sock," Chase grumbles.

Chase sits up, holding himself by his elbows. "What kind of book opens with the heroine getting stabbed?" Chase grumbles.

Buddy shrugs and looks around at the wasteland they were in. "Well.. what did you think of the letter? You still mad at me?"

Chase pauses before huffing. "Nevermind. I just wanted to say it sucked. I would keep avoiding you if it weren't for Silver, like.. begging me to go back to using her."

"Mhm?"

"Mhm!"

Chase stands up. Buddy does too.

It's not like they liked each other. They just had a story to complete. They just happen to.. do it together.

Shut up.

divider by @saradika-graphics

#I wrote this through 2 school days bc I was bored #So it may be a bit meh #cinderella boy buddy #cinderella boy webtoon #cinderella boy #cinderella boy chase #buddy cinderella boy #stargoth #chase hollow

41 notes · View notes

otterly-darling · 15 hours ago

Text

First Anniversary

‘Cheers!’

They clinked their glasses together over fond smiles across the table.

‘I can’t believe it’s been a year,’ Remus sighed a nostalgic sigh. ‘It’s been- well it’s just been the best.’ He reached across the table, ‘I know I don’t say it enough, that it’s not really our thing to talk like this but-‘ he swallowed, ‘Everything we’ve done this year, the books, the late nights, it’s meant an awful lot and I was hoping that-‘

‘Well, well, well.’ The sound of the kitchen door slamming shut made them both jump. ‘Isn’t this cosy.’

‘Sirius!’ Remus stammered, ‘I thought you were out with James!’

‘I was.’ Sirius crossed his arms. ‘I missed you. So I came home. Looks like you didn’t have the same problem though does it, Remus? It didn’t take you long to replace me.’

‘Oh do shut up, Sirius.’ Regulus rolled his eyes and turned back to pick up his glass of squash. ‘Sorry, Remus, you were hoping that…?’

‘That I could borrow your unabridged copy of Moby Dick,’ Remus mumbled, still sounding guilty. ‘I dropped mine in the bath. Sirius, love, I can explain!’

Sirius ignored him. ‘Why are you here?’ he demanded, pointing at Regulus who looked back, bored.

‘In case it had escaped your notice, brother, but I am here quite a lot of the time.’

‘Yes, but to see me! And now I come home to find you fraternising with my husband!’

‘We’re not doing anything!’ Remus rushed on to say. ‘Okay, that’s not true but you have to promise not to be upset. You’re still my absolute favourite Black brother, I swear on your arse, and you know how much I love your arse.’

Sirius gave him a shrewd look. ‘Hmm,’ he stuck his tongue out at Regulus. ‘You do love my arse. But I promise nothing,’ he added.

‘It’s our anniversary,’ Remus said quietly, getting to his feet and coming up to Sirius, uncrossing his arms so he could take his hands in his own. ‘A year ago today Regulus and I, we- we started a book club.’

Sirius gasped. ‘Without me?!’

‘Can you even read?’ Regulus started but Remus shushed him with an imploring look.

‘It means nothing, baby. It’s just for fun and-‘

‘Hey!’ Regulus stood up too, looking indignant. ‘You were just saying how much it meant to you! What was that? A lie?’

Remus paled further, ‘No! I-‘ his gaze flickered between the two brothers. ‘Reg, I didn’t mean-‘

‘So it did mean something!’ Sirius wrenched his hands free from Remus’.

‘When I suggested we read a book together and discuss it you literally told me you couldn’t think of anything more boring!’ Remus sounded desperate now.

‘Oh so I was second choice then was I?!’ Regulus crossed his arms too, mirroring his brother. ‘Well that’s just charming.’

‘Well it would have been nice to be invited to your little gatherings anyway!’ Sirius said at the same time.

Remus sat back down and thunked his head on the table. ‘I’m too old for this.’ He got up again, the chair screeching across the tile and without another word walked out the room.

Sirius and Regulus looked at one another.

‘Well that was fun!’ Sirius said brightly and uncrossed his arms. ‘You want to stay for dinner?’

‘Oo yes please!’ Regulus plonked himself down in Remus’ vacated chair and kicked his legs up on the table. ‘Should we make Remus get us takeaway?’

‘Oh definitely.’

@wolfstarmicrofic

#remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius black #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstarmicrofic #regulus black

34 notes · View notes

cocobeanncteez · 1 day ago

Text

The CEO Collision - Part Five

Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)

Warnings / content for Part Five: alcohol consumption, profanities, lotss of angst, seonghwa gets insecure / has an argument with reader, smut warning: quickie in the backseat of a car / piv, protected sex (pill). Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.

Word Count: 9.6k

Masterlist for The CEO Collision

The day was crisp and clear as you and Seonghwa stepped into the lobby of a towering luxury apartment complex. The marble floors gleamed under soft, golden lighting, and a uniformed concierge greeted you both with a polite bow before directing you to the private elevator.

“Excited?” Seonghwa asked, glancing at you with a small smile as the elevator ascended.

You gave a nonchalant shrug but couldn’t hide the glimmer of curiosity in your eyes. “I mean, it’s not every day you go shopping for a luxury apartment with a view like this. Are you sure we need a place this extravagant?”

“It’s not just about the view,” he said smoothly, leaning casually against the elevator wall. “It’s about having a space that feels like us. Besides, I don’t do halfway, Y/N. You should know that by now.”

The elevator dinged, and you stepped into the first apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a panoramic view of Seoul’s skyline, the Han River winding its way through the city like a ribbon of silver.

“Oh, wow…” you murmured, taking a step closer to the window.

Seonghwa joined you, his hands sliding into his pockets as he observed your reaction. “It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

The real estate agent, a well-dressed woman with an air of professionalism, gestured around the open-concept living room. “This apartment features four bedrooms, a state-of-the-art kitchen, and, of course, unparalleled views from every room. Shall we take a look around?”

As you moved from room to room, Seonghwa subtly paid more attention to your reactions than to the apartment itself. He watched the way your eyes lit up at the spacious walk-in closet and how your fingers brushed over the sleek kitchen counters.

When you stepped onto the wraparound balcony, the cold breeze hit you, but it was worth it for the view. Seonghwa followed, standing close enough that the warmth of his presence countered the chill.

“This one’s impressive,” you admitted, leaning against the railing. “But it feels too… formal.”

He chuckled. “Formal?”

“Yeah, like it’s more suited for hosting corporate dinners than relaxing at home.”

“I see what you mean,” he said thoughtfully. “You want somewhere cozier. More us.”

You looked up at him, surprised at how naturally he said “us.”

The agent approached, handing Seonghwa a tablet. “We have another unit in the apartment complex right across this building that’s slightly more contemporary. It has a private rooftop garden and pool. Perhaps you’d like to see that next?”

Seonghwa glanced at you. “What do you think? Want to keep hunting?”

You smiled, your playful side surfacing. “As long as you don’t start picking places based on how well they fit your suit collection.”

He laughed, the sound rich and unguarded. “Deal. But if we find a place with a walk-in closet bigger than this one, don’t blame me for taking it.”

The two of you headed back to the elevator, the agent trailing behind. As the doors slid shut, Seonghwa leaned slightly closer. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever enjoyed apartment hunting.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Because I’m doing it with you,” he said simply, his tone sincere.

Your cheeks warmed as you looked away, pretending to study the floor numbers lighting up on the panel. “Smooth talker.”

“And you love it,” he teased, his smirk making your heart skip a beat. You rolled your eyes, but the truth was, he wasn’t wrong.

The second apartment was nothing short of breathtaking. It offered the kind of luxury that seemed pulled straight from a dream. The building itself was a fortress, equipped with state-of-the-art security systems. It was no wonder the property was home to A-list actors, chaebols, and the nation’s ultra-elite.

Inside, the apartment was a masterpiece of modern design. The living room opened up to a balcony that stretched the length of the unit. Beyond the glass doors was a private jacuzzi, surrounded by sleek glass panels that offered an unobstructed view of Seoul’s glittering skyline.

You stepped out onto the balcony, drawn to the view and the subtle bubbling sound of the jacuzzi. The cool night breeze brushed against your skin, and the sight of the city lights twinkling below made your breath catch.

“Now this,” you murmured, running your fingers along the edge of the jacuzzi, “is impressive.”

Seonghwa followed you, his hands tucked into his pockets as he surveyed the scene. “The view alone is worth it. And the security here is unbeatable.”

The agent chimed in, her tone professional but enthusiastic. “This building is known for its exclusivity and privacy. We’ve housed celebrities, diplomats, and business leaders. The residents appreciate the discretion and safety we provide.”

You glanced at Seonghwa with a raised eyebrow. “Diplomats and celebrities? Feeling fancy yet?”

He smirked. “It’s not about fancy. It’s about giving us a space where we can feel secure and enjoy ourselves.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

Seonghwa gestured toward the jacuzzi. “I’m just picturing you in there, a glass of wine in hand, completely relaxed. Maybe I’ll join you if you let me.”

You laughed, swatting his arm. “Big talk, Mr. Park. But can you actually imagine us living here? I mean, this place feels more like a retreat.”

“That’s exactly the point,” he said, leaning on the balcony railing beside you. “A retreat. Somewhere we can escape from the chaos of work and everything else.”

The agent excused herself, giving the two of you space to discuss. Seonghwa turned to face you fully, his expression softening.

“This building is safe, private, and beautiful. It’s everything we need,” he said, his voice steady. “And I can’t stop thinking about building a life with you here, Y/N.”

His sincerity caught you off guard, and you looked away, pretending to focus on the view. “You’re really selling this place,” you said lightly, though your heart raced at his words.

“I’m not selling it,” he replied, taking your hand. “I’m choosing it. For us.”

You glanced at the jacuzzi, then at him, a teasing glint in your eye. “Alright, but only if you promise to make my favorite cocktails while I’m soaking in that jacuzzi.”

His smile widened, and he squeezed your hand. “Deal.”

The decision was practically made, but Seonghwa, being meticulous as ever, wanted to ensure every detail was perfect. He requested another walk-through with the agent, focusing on the security measures and amenities.

While Seonghwa discussed logistics with the agent, you found yourself wandering through the spacious master bedroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a panoramic view of Seoul, and the room exuded a quiet elegance with its neutral tones and luxurious finishes. A large walk-in closet adjacent to the bedroom caught your attention, and you stepped inside, running your fingers along the polished wood shelves.

“This closet is bigger than mine,” you muttered to yourself, chuckling.

“You say that now,” Seonghwa’s voice came from behind you, making you turn. He leaned against the doorway, his hands in his pockets, watching you with a soft smile. “But I have a feeling it won’t stay this spacious once your wardrobe moves in.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful smirk on your lips. “And here I thought you liked my sense of style.”

“Oh, I do, sweetheart,” he said, stepping inside and closing the distance between you. “But I also know your shopping habits.”

You laughed, swatting at his chest. “Fair point.”

He reached out, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled you close. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s… perfect,” you admitted, leaning into his touch. “But it feels like such a big step.”

Seonghwa tilted his head, his gaze locking with yours. “It’s a big step because we’re building something big together. And this place? It’s just the beginning.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned up to kiss him softly. “Alright, Mr. Park. Let’s do it. Let’s make this our home.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face, and he kissed you back, the moment sealing the decision between you.

The agent returned shortly after, her professional smile in place. “Have you made a decision, Mr. Park?”

Seonghwa glanced at you, his hand still on your waist. “We’ll take it.”

The agent beamed, congratulating you both as she began explaining the next steps. But for you, the logistics blurred into the background. All you could focus on was the man beside you and the future you were about to create together.

As you left the apartment later that evening, Seonghwa laced his fingers with yours. “What do you say we celebrate tonight?”

“Celebrating what?” you teased.

“Our new home,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “And maybe breaking in that jacuzzi a little early.”

You laughed, leaning into him as you walked to the car. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Throughout the drive, Seonghwa's hand had been resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing small, tantalizing circles against your skin. The touch was innocent enough at first, but the heat in his gaze when he glanced at you told a different story.

Seonghwa expertly maneuvered his car into the expansive garage of his mansion, the quiet hum of the engine echoing off the pristine walls. The garage itself was a showcase of wealth—a collection of six luxury cars gleamed under soft, strategically placed lights, each one an emblem of sophistication and power.

As soon as the car came to a halt, you barely had time to unbuckle your seatbelt before Seonghwa leaned over, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hand slid up your thigh, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Couldn’t wait, could you?” you teased breathlessly when he pulled back for just a second.

“Not when you’ve been driving me crazy all afternoon,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire.

Without another word, he opened the car door and stepped out, only to open yours moments later. But instead of leading you toward the house, he pushed you gently back against the car, resuming the kiss with even more intensity.

The air in the garage grew heavy with heat and anticipation, and when Seonghwa lifted you effortlessly, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then down to your neck, each kiss leaving a searing trail on your skin.

“Backseat,” he whispered against your ear, his voice thick with urgency.

The suggestion sent a thrill through you, and you didn’t hesitate. The two of you slid into the backseat of the spacious car, the leather cool against your skin as Seonghwa hovered over you, his body pressing into yours. You could feel the heat at your pussy and your clit was throbbing.

His hands roamed freely now, slipping under your blouse as his lips claimed yours again. Each touch, each kiss was a promise of what was to come, and the confined space only heightened the intimacy.

“An early celebration…” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours as he paused to catch his breath.

“In the backseat of your car? Didn’t know you would take such a risk, Mr. Park,” you said with a smirk, reaching down to the waistband of his pants, pushing it down quickly, freeing his cock. You pumped his hard dick while he pushed your skirt up, moving your panties to the side to swipe the wetness at your slit before rubbing your clit.

You guided his cock to your entrance, letting him enter you. “God, my love,” he muttered, his eyes closing while he pushed himself all the way in. “You always feel so good, so tight, so warm… and always so wet for me.”

“Hwa…” you moaned while he started fucking you in a fast pace that had you gripping the seat. Seonghwa was going rough and you absolutely loved it when he did that, especially when he brought his hand to your neck to gently choke you.

The heat between you two caused the car windows to get all foggy and that sent a chill down your spine as you’ve never had sex in a car before. The knot forming in your lower abdomen was getting tighter and Seonghwa could sense that by the way you arched your back and moaned his name.

He reached down to rub your clit in circular motions, and it wasn’t long before your orgasm took over you, his own following right after.

“This was insane,” you said breathlessly, a dazed smile on your lips as you tried to steady your breathing.

Seonghwa chuckled deeply, his chest still rising and falling from exertion. “You make me lose all sense of control,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

He pulled out and pulled his pants up before getting out of the car, adjusting his clothes. Stepping out of the car, you winced slightly, shooting him a playful glare. “You could’ve warned me how wild you’d get.”

He smirked, smoothing the creases on his shirt. “You don’t seem to mind, though.” His gaze lingered on you, full of unspoken heat, before he reached for your hand, helping you regain your balance.

The cool air of the garage hit you as you straightened up, and you felt a mix of exhilaration and a little embarrassment as you noticed the faint fog still clinging to the car windows.

“Come on,” he said, tugging you gently toward the door leading to his mansion. “We should probably clean up and get some rest. You’ll need your energy for tomorrow.”

“For what?” you asked suspiciously, though your lips curled into a teasing smile.

He glanced over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “You’ll see.”

Seonghwa led you through the private entrance of his mansion, the soft hum of motion-sensor lights illuminating the grand hallway. The cool marble underfoot contrasted with the lingering warmth of his hand holding yours.

“You know,” you began, glancing around as you stepped into the main living area, “I’ve been here before, but every time, I notice something new. Do you change the décor often?”

He smiled, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over a chair. “Not really. Maybe you’re just paying more attention now.” His eyes glinted mischievously as he closed the gap between you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Or maybe you’re just too distracted by me when you’re here.”

You laughed softly, swatting at his chest. “Someone’s confident.”

“Can you blame me?” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. His lips were warm and insistent, reigniting the spark that had barely cooled since you stepped out of the car.

You pulled back just enough to breathe, resting your hands on his chest. “As tempting as it is to continue… I think I need a shower first. You were… thorough.” Your cheeks heated at the memory, and his chuckle only made it worse.

“Good idea,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I’ll join you.”

“Of course you will,” you teased, pulling away and heading toward the grand staircase. “I don’t trust you not to ruin the water bill.”

He followed close behind, his eyes glued to you. “You say that like it’s not worth it.”

Seonghwa’s bathroom had a sprawling walk-in shower, dual rainfall showerheads, and sleek black-and-gold accents. You turned on the water, letting it heat up, while Seonghwa leaned against the vanity, watching you with an expression that was equal parts admiration and hunger.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as your lips twitched into a smile.

“Like what?” he asked innocently, though his gaze remained intense.

“Like you’re planning to do something,” you replied, stepping under the warm cascade of water.

He smirked, following you in without hesitation. “I am planning to do something. And I promise you’ll like it.”

You didn’t doubt that for a second.

---

The following morning, Seonghwa woke you with a soft kiss on your temple and the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. His excitement was palpable, even as you groggily sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he teased, setting the coffee cup on your nightstand. “We have somewhere to be today. Get dressed—something comfortable.”

You raised an eyebrow at his cryptic instructions. “And where exactly are we going?”

His lips curved into a mischievous smile. “You’ll see. Just trust me.”

An hour later, you found yourself in his car, heading toward the outskirts of the city. The drive was tranquil, the morning sunlight casting a golden glow over the scenery. His hand rested warmly on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles as soft music played in the background.

As the city gave way to rolling hills and serene landscapes, your curiosity grew. Finally, Seonghwa turned onto a private driveway that led to a secluded, picturesque airfield. Your jaw dropped as you spotted the sleek helicopter waiting on the tarmac.

“A helicopter?” you asked, glancing at him in surprise.

He grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Surprise number one.”

The ride was nothing short of breathtaking. The helicopter soared over lush greenery, glimmering lakes, and winding rivers. Seonghwa pointed out landmarks, sharing tidbits of trivia and making you laugh as he held your hand. As you descended, you noticed a stunning villa nestled by a crystal-clear lake, surrounded by vibrant flowers and shaded by tall trees.

“Where are we?” you asked as you stepped out, the fresh air invigorating.

Seonghwa smiled, taking your hand. “This is a surprise I’ve been working on for weeks. Come on.”

The villa was a masterpiece of modern luxury, with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the tranquil lake. Inside, every detail screamed elegance, from the marble floors to the plush furnishings.

“Seonghwa…” you said, your voice tinged with awe as you took in the stunning interior.

“Do you like it?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Like it? It’s amazing,” you said. “But what are we doing here?”

He turned you around to face him, his gaze warm and steady. “It’s yours. Ours. I bought this villa as a pre-wedding gift for you.”

Your eyes widened, the weight of his words sinking in. “You bought this for us?”

He nodded, a proud smile on his face. “I wanted us to have a place away from the city, somewhere we can escape to when we need peace. Another place where we can make new memories.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked around the villa, imagining all the moments you’d share together in this beautiful space.

“You’re incredible,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I just want to make you happy,” he replied, his voice tender.

The day was filled with exploring the villa and its surroundings. Seonghwa had arranged a private boat ride on the lake, followed by a couple’s spa treatment in one of the villa’s luxurious suites. As the sun began to set, you both stood on the expansive balcony, a glass of wine in hand, watching the sky turn shades of orange and pink.

“This place is perfect,” you said, leaning into him.

“It’s perfect because you’re here,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you couldn’t help but feel that this villa was more than just a gift—it was a promise of a future filled with love, peace, and endless possibilities.

-x-x-x-

The quiet rhythm of your office was interrupted by the sharp click of polished shoes against the marble floor, followed by a familiar, booming voice that carried an air of cheer wherever it went.

“Y/N!” Yunho called, his tone bright and unmissable as he entered your space, closing the door behind him. He held a sleek leather bag in one hand and a smaller paper bag in the other, the latter adorned with an elegant Swiss logo.

You glanced up from your laptop, already smiling as the tall figure approached. “Yunho! Look who’s back from the land of watches and chocolate.”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, his grin wide and infectious while he gave you a hug. “And I brought the goods.”

He placed the bags on your desk with a flourish, his energy filling the room as he slid into the chair across from you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic presentation.

“Goodies from Switzerland?” you asked, peeking into the paper bag.

“The finest,” he said proudly. “Chocolate truffles, because who doesn’t love Swiss chocolate, and…” He gestured for you to open the second bag.

Your fingers brushed over the soft fabric as you pulled out an intricately designed silk scarf. The deep blues and golds shimmered under the light, the pattern an elegant mix of florals and geometric designs.

“Yunho, this is gorgeous,” you said, running your hand over the delicate material.

“Only the best for my favorite bride-to-be,” he replied with a wink, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

“You’re spoiling me,” you teased, draping the scarf over your shoulders.

As you admired the scarf, he leaned back, crossing his legs. “So, how’s the wedding planning going? Last I heard, it was all systems go.”

You groaned playfully. “Oh, it’s going. Yeri has been practically living at my place with Seonghwa’s mom. They’ve been going through venues, flowers, dresses—everything. I think they’re having more fun than I am.”

Yunho chuckled. “Sounds about right. So, what’s left for you to do?”

“Mostly just finalizing details and staying out of their way,” you said with a laugh. “Seonghwa and I are focusing on other things, like finalizing stuff for the new apartment we bought.”

“Ah, the married life prep,” Yunho teased before his expression grew thoughtful. “Actually… speaking of weddings and planning…”

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden shift in tone. “What is it?”

“Well,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was thinking… I’d like to propose to Nari soon.”

Your jaw dropped, a mix of excitement and surprise. “Yunho! Are you serious?”

He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Nari’s… she’s everything to me. I want to make it official.”

“That’s amazing!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing in your seat. “Do you have any plans yet?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, laughing at your enthusiasm. “But I figured I’d need to know her schedule first. She’s always running around, and I want to make sure I catch her when she’s free and in a good mood. So… think you can help me out with that?”

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “Yunho, you’re lucky she’s my secretary. Of course, I’ll help! But you’ll owe me, cause Nari is very smart and will catch on quickly.”

“Done,” he said without hesitation. “What do you want?”

“I’ll think of something,” you teased, already mentally mapping out Nari’s upcoming schedule, keeping in mind that the quarterly reporting period was coming up. “But seriously, Yunho, I’m so happy for you. She’s going to be over the moon.”

“I hope so,” he said softly, his usual confidence giving way to a rare vulnerability. “She means the world to me. I just got the green signal from her parents to propose.”

“You’ve got this,” you assured him, reaching across the desk to squeeze his hand. “And when you do propose, make sure you do it in a way that’s as amazing as she is.”

Yunho grinned, his excitement palpable. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ve got some ideas.”

Yunho chatted with you for a while about his business trip and the things he got for Nari. As he left your office, the thought of another proposal on the horizon filled you with joy. Love was certainly in the air, and you couldn’t wait to see how Yunho’s grand gesture would unfold.

---

The sleek boardroom of Byeol Materials Group was abuzz with energy as executives shuffled papers and exchanged nods of approval. Seonghwa sat at the head of the table, his sharp suit emphasizing the commanding air he carried effortlessly. The unofficial quarterly report presentation was underway, and the results spoke volumes about the company’s recent surge in performance.

“…and with the latest projections, we’re expecting a 25% increase in revenue compared to the previous fiscal year,” the CFO concluded, his voice brimming with satisfaction. “The strategic partnerships and increased visibility have proven highly effective.”

Seonghwa nodded, his expression composed, though there was a hint of pride in his eyes. “Excellent work, everyone. Let’s keep this momentum going.”

As the meeting adjourned, Wooyoung leaned in to hand him a folder. “These are the media reports and market analyses you requested. There’s a lot of positive press surrounding your engagement,” he said with a knowing smile.

Seonghwa flipped through the pages, scanning headlines like: “Byeol Materials Sees Surge in Investor Confidence Following CEO’s Engagement” “CEO Park Seonghwa’s Leadership Gains Traction Amid Upcoming Union with CEO Kim Y/N”

“It’s incredible how much influence the engagement has had,” Wooyoung continued. “Investors see it as not just a personal union, but a strategic alliance between your family and the Kims. Confidence in the company has skyrocketed.”

Seonghwa set the folder down, his mind briefly drifting to you. It was strange to think that what began as a corporate necessity had evolved into something so deeply personal. His gaze shifted back to the room as he addressed his secretary.

“Schedule a meeting with the PR team,” he instructed. “We need to ensure the narrative stays focused on the company’s growth and future endeavors, not just the engagement.”

“Consider it done,” Wooyoung replied.

-x-x-x-

The last three weeks had been a whirlwind of chaos, deadlines, and unrelenting stress. The quarterly reporting period demanded everything from both you and Seonghwa, leaving little room for anything else. Late nights at the office had become routine, and your phone calls dwindled to sparse, clipped conversations about work.

Seonghwa had been quieter than usual, a fact that gnawed at the edges of your mind. Even when you managed to meet once for a quick dinner at his office, his demeanor was distant, distracted. The glint of confidence you adored in him seemed dulled, replaced by a furrowed brow and a heavy silence.

You had tried to bridge the gap, offering words of encouragement and support when you could, but his responses were mechanical. It wasn’t like him, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

Meanwhile, at Byeol Materials, Seonghwa stared blankly at his computer screen, his mind a storm of self-doubt. Despite the glowing financial reports and the celebratory buzz from his team, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his success was hollow.

Is it me, or is it just the engagement?

The question loomed over him, festering in his mind until it became an unrelenting weight. He replayed every congratulatory email, every handshake from investors, and every mention of your name in connection to the company’s success.

His chest tightened. What if they’re right? What if I’m only riding on Y/N’s coattails?

His phone buzzed on the desk. It was a text from you. You: Hey love, thinking about you. Hope your day’s going okay. Let’s talk soon if you’re free?

He read it, then set the phone down without responding. He couldn’t face you—not now, not when he felt like this.

You sat at your desk, staring at the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Your colleagues had noticed your distracted state, whispering among themselves, but you didn’t care.

The truth was, you missed him—missed his presence, his warmth, and the way he always seemed to lighten your burdens. Now, it felt like you were on opposite ends of a chasm with no bridge in sight.

You finally gave in and called him. The phone rang… and rang… and rang.

When his voicemail picked up, you sighed, feeling the sting of rejection. It wasn’t like him to shut you out completely. You debated calling again but stopped yourself.

That night, you paced your bedroom, rehearsing what you would say. He’s under stress. Don’t push too hard. But don’t let this go, either.

When he finally called back, it was almost midnight.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice weary.

“Seonghwa,” you began carefully, “is everything okay? You’ve been… distant.”

There was a long silence, and you could hear the faint rustle of papers on his end.

“I’m fine,” he said, his tone curt. “Just busy.”

“Busy?” you repeated, frustration creeping into your voice. “You’ve been avoiding me, Seonghwa. You don’t even text me back anymore.”

“I don’t have time to text,” he snapped, the sharpness in his tone catching you off guard.

You took a deep breath, fighting the hurt. “Seonghwa, I get that work is crazy right now, but we’re supposed to be partners, we’re getting married in a couple of weeks. If something’s bothering you—”

“I said I’m fine,” he interrupted. “I’ll call you when things settle down.”

Before you could respond, he ended the call.

You stared at your phone in disbelief, the ache in your chest spreading. This wasn’t like him. This wasn’t like you two. And as much as you wanted to give him the space he seemed to need, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was wrong.

---

You were buried in paperwork, trying to focus despite the lingering ache in your chest from Seonghwa’s recent coldness. The sound of your office door bursting open made you look up, startled.

Yeri strode in, a wide grin on her face, practically glowing with excitement. She plopped down into the chair across from you, not even waiting for an invitation.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re not going to believe this,” she said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, already amused by her dramatic entrance. “Okay, spill. What’s got you looking like you just won the lottery?”

Yeri clapped her hands together, barely able to contain her glee. “I hooked up with San!”

Your pen froze mid-sentence, and your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“San! You know, your friend with the face of a literal god, Choi San?” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “We’ve been kind of… seeing each other for like four weeks. Well, officially dating now.”

You blinked, utterly floored. “Yeri, are you serious? How did this even happen? I didn’t even know you two were close!”

She giggled, biting her lip. “Neither did I, honestly. It just… happened! He was so sweet and funny at the last party, and one thing led to another, and—”

“You hooked up,” you finished, smirking. “And now you’re dating.”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat. “And let me tell you, Y/N, this man is perfect. His face is already illegal—those cheekbones, that jawline—but his body? Oh my God. His abs could literally cut diamonds, his shoulders are so broad they make me feel tiny, and don’t even get me started on those arms!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. “Wow, Yeri. You’re really into him, huh?”

“Into him? I’m obsessed,” she admitted, fanning herself dramatically. “And he’s so sweet, too! Like, he actually listens to me, remembers little details, and he’s so considerate. But then he takes his shirt off, and I’m like, ‘Okay, I get it. You’re not just hot—you’re ridiculously hot.’”

You shook your head, laughing harder. “I’m happy for you, Yeri. But I have to admit, I did not see this coming.”

“Neither did I!” she said, throwing her hands up. “But here we are. And honestly, I’m not complaining. I feel like I hit the jackpot.”

“Well, San is definitely a catch,” you agreed, still grinning. “But I think he’s the lucky one for landing you.”

Yeri leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face. “Thanks, Y/N. I just had to tell you because I knew you’d appreciate how insane this all feels. And you know what? I think he might actually be the real deal.”

Your heart warmed at her happiness, even as you felt a twinge of longing for the connection you and Seonghwa seemed to be losing. Still, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the pure joy radiating from your best friend.

"Anyway... enough about me! We finalized on Seonghwa's tuxedo for the wedding! I know you've been busy lately, but you need to find some time to try out the wedding dresses I chose for you," Yeri said. The mention of Seonghwa's name made your face fall and Yeri instantly noticed.

She tilted her head, her excitement dimming when she noticed your expression shift. “Hey, what’s with the long face? What’s going on?”

You sighed, setting your pen down and leaning back in your chair. “It’s Seonghwa. He’s been… distant lately. Barely communicating, working himself to the bone. We’ve only seen each other once in the past three weeks.”

Her brows knitted together in concern. “What? That doesn’t sound like him at all. Did something happen between you two?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “He’s stressed with work, I get that. It’s quarterly time, and I’m busy too, but it feels like he’s shutting me out completely. He’s barely texting, and when he does, it’s short and impersonal. It’s like he’s putting up a wall.”

Yeri frowned. “That’s so out of character for him. He’s always been attentive, especially when it comes to you. Did he say anything? Give you a reason for why he’s acting this way?”

You shook your head. “No. That’s the thing. I’ve tried asking, but he just brushes it off, saying he’s fine or that he’s too busy. It’s frustrating because I feel like I can’t even reach him anymore. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, and it’s starting to hurt.”

Her concern deepened. “This doesn’t make any sense. He adores you—anyone can see that. Why would he act like this? Do you think it’s wedding stress? Or maybe something at work?”

“I’ve considered that,” you said, folding your arms. “But he’s always been good at balancing work and our relationship. This feels different, like he’s deliberately keeping me at a distance.”

Yeri leaned forward, placing her hand on yours. “Y/N, you need to talk to him—really talk to him. He might be dealing with something he doesn’t know how to share. And knowing Seonghwa, he’s probably overthinking everything and blaming himself for something that isn’t even his fault.”

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. “You’re probably right. I just don’t want to push him if he’s not ready to open up. But at the same time, I can’t keep feeling like this. It’s like we’re drifting apart, and I hate it.”

She squeezed your hand reassuringly. “You’re not drifting apart, Y/N. He loves you, and I’m sure he’s just going through something right now. But if you don’t address it, it’ll only fester. You’re getting married, for crying out loud. Communication is key.”

Her words struck a chord, and you sighed. “Yeah. I guess I just need to find the right time to bring it up.”

“Don’t wait too long,” she advised gently. “You both deserve to be happy and on the same page, especially with the wedding coming up.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Yeri. I’ll figure it out.”

“Of course,” she said, leaning back with a determined look. “And while you’re sorting that out, please find time for your wedding dresses. You’re not getting out of that.”

You chuckled, grateful for her unwavering support. “Alright.”

After chatting with Yeri for a while, you headed into a meeting, Nari being all cheery by your side.

The conference room hummed with energy as you sat at the head of the table, your leadership team arranged around you. The large screen at the front displayed a series of graphs and charts, all trending upwards—a testament to the hard work of the last few months.

“And with that,” your CFO concluded, clicking to the final slide, “we’re pleased to report a 7.6% increase in stock prices per share this quarter. Revenue is up by 12.4%, with a significant boost in our medical devices division. It’s been a phenomenal quarter, Ms. Kim.”

A wave of pride surged through you as a round of applause erupted in the room. “Thank you, everyone,” you said, your voice steady but warm. “These results wouldn’t have been possible without the collective efforts of every single person in this room and beyond. Your dedication and commitment have been nothing short of extraordinary.”

The room buzzed with excitement as you continued. “The rise in stock prices shows that the market has confidence in us, and I couldn’t agree more. But let’s not get complacent. This is the time to capitalize on our momentum and continue delivering excellence.”

Your COO leaned forward, his expression enthusiastic. “The new product line has been a major hit, and we’ve seen significant traction in international markets. If we keep this up, I wouldn’t be surprised if we surpass our annual projections.”

“Agreed,” you replied, nodding. “Let’s strategize on how we can sustain this growth while innovating further. I want to schedule another meeting next week to dive deeper into expansion plans. For now, celebrate these wins because they’re well-earned.”

As the meeting adjourned and your team dispersed with smiles and congratulatory pats on the back, you lingered behind, taking a moment to let the success sink in. The satisfaction of seeing your company thrive was unparalleled, but it also reminded you of the other side of your life—the part that hadn’t been going as smoothly.

You pulled out your phone and hesitated for a moment before texting Seonghwa:

You: Quarterly results are in, and it’s a win, stock prices up by 7.6%! Hope your day is going well. Miss you.

Hitting send, you sighed softly, hoping he’d respond with more than a polite acknowledgment. For now, though, you allowed yourself to bask in the triumph of your hard work and the knowledge that, at least on the professional front, everything was falling into place.

The conference room was silent except for the rhythmic clicking of a presentation remote. Seonghwa’s CFO stood at the front, his voice clear and confident as he walked the executive team through the quarterly results. The tension in the room was palpable—Seonghwa had set ambitious goals, and the team was eager to see if they had delivered.

“And finally,” the CFO said, clicking to the last slide, “I’m pleased to report an 18.4% increase in stock prices this quarter. Revenue is up by 20.3%, driven by the success of our new partnerships and increased efficiency in production.”

The announcement was met with a collective gasp of surprise, followed by a burst of applause.

Seonghwa remained stoic, his hands clasped in front of him, but the corners of his mouth lifted in a subtle smile. “Impressive work,” he said, his voice calm yet commanding. “These results show what this company is capable of when we focus on our goals and execute with precision.”

The COO chimed in, his tone animated. “The market response has been overwhelming. Investors are thrilled, and we’re seeing a surge of interest from potential stakeholders. The new biomaterials product line, in particular, has exceeded expectations.”

Seonghwa nodded, leaning forward slightly. “The success of the biomaterials line was a calculated risk, and I’m glad to see it paying off. Let’s ensure we maintain the quality and exclusivity that defines our company. No compromises.”

The marketing director added, “Media coverage has also played a role. Your engagement to Ms. Kim has elevated our brand’s visibility among younger, affluent audiences. It’s clear that people see our company as more aspirational than ever.”

Seonghwa’s expression flickered, his jaw tightening slightly. He straightened in his chair, addressing the room. “While external factors may play a role in perception, this success is the result of hard work, strategy, and innovation. Let’s not rely on anything else to sustain our growth. I expect everyone to continue delivering results based on merit, not external narratives.”

The room quieted momentarily before the CFO interjected. “Understood, sir. Moving forward, we’ve outlined a strategy to capitalize on the current momentum. I’ll schedule a separate meeting with your team to discuss the details.”

“Good,” Seonghwa said, his tone decisive. “Thank you, everyone. Let’s keep this momentum going.”

As the meeting adjourned and his team began to disperse, Seonghwa stayed behind, staring at the charts still displayed on the screen. The results were undeniable, but the mention of his engagement lingered in his mind.

Back in his office, Seonghwa picked up his phone and stared at the message you had sent earlier about your company’s success. A faint smile graced his lips as he typed a reply: Seonghwa: That’s great, congrats

He hit send, his chest tightening slightly. The company’s success was thrilling, but the pressure to prove himself as more than just “the fiancé of Kim Y/N” loomed larger than ever.

After work, you decided to go see Seonghwa’s parents as it’s been a while since you had time to meet them.

“Y/N!” his mother exclaimed warmly, rising from her seat. “Congratulations on your quarterly results! I saw the reports earlier—your stock prices are soaring. Such fantastic news!”

“Thank you,” you said with a grateful smile, bowing slightly. “It’s been a lot of hard work, but I’m glad everything is paying off.”

His father beamed at you. “We were just talking about how proud we are of you, Y/N. Both you and Seonghwa are doing such incredible work.”

You hesitated, a small frown forming. “Speaking of Seonghwa... has he been home at all recently?”

His mother and father exchanged a glance before his father replied, “Actually, he came home a little while ago, after days. He said he needed a break and went up to the bar room. We assumed he wanted some time to himself… he seems very off and very stressed.”

Your brows furrowed. Seonghwa coming home early was unusual, and the fact that he hadn’t reached out to you all day stung more than you wanted to admit. “I’ll go check on him, if that’s okay?” you said softly, excusing yourself and making your way upstairs.

The dim light of the bar room cast long shadows across the polished wood as you stepped inside. Seonghwa was slouched over the counter, a glass of whiskey dangling loosely from his fingers. The tension in the air was palpable, and his disheveled appearance only heightened your unease.

“Seonghwa,” you called out, your voice cautious. “Hwa?”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Ah… Y/N. Here to gloat?”

You froze, taken aback. “What? Gloat? What are you even talking about?”

He let out a bitter laugh, setting the glass down with a heavy clink. “Your stock prices soared. Your company is thriving. And my company? Everyone’s saying it’s only because of you. ‘Park Seonghwa is riding on his fiancée’s coattails.’ That’s what they’re saying, Y/N. That my success isn’t even mine.”

You frowned, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “Is that what this is about? You’re upset because people are talking and you’ve been so distant because of this?” you stared at him in utter disbelief. “Seonghwa, you knew this would happen. We talked about this before agreeing to the engagement. This was the plan to save your company. And you agreed to it.”

He stood abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some charity case,” he snapped. “I didn’t agree to become a footnote in your life story!”

Your eyes widened, his words cutting deep. “A footnote? Is that what you think this is? That I’m out here trying to overshadow you?”

Seonghwa grabbed the bottle of whiskey, pouring another glass. “Isn’t it? Everywhere I go, it’s ‘Kim Y/N this, Kim Y/N that.’ They don’t see me at all. They see you, my fiancée.”

The anger that had been simmering finally boiled over. “Then maybe you should take a hard look at yourself, Seonghwa! You’re the one letting this get to you. You’re the one doubting your own worth. Don’t you dare put that on me.”

He slammed the glass down, the sound reverberating through the room. “You don’t understand, Y/N! You’ve always been the golden CEO, the one who succeeds without even trying. You don’t know what it’s like to constantly feel like you’re not enough!”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Your voice trembled as you spoke, the hurt bleeding through. “I’ve stood by you, Seonghwa. I’ve supported you, believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself. And this is how you repay me? By blaming me for your insecurities?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “You don’t get it. And you never will. Your company is a subsidiary, you’ll never fail.”

You took a step back, your chest tightening. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t get it. But you know what I do get? I’m not going to stand here and be treated like this. I deserve better than this, Seonghwa.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, his eyes narrowing as he stared at you before a chuckle escaped his lips. “So, what? You’re just going to leave me now?”

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. “Maybe I should. I’m not dealing with you when you’re drunk like this.”

Without another word, you turned and walked out, the sound of your heels echoing in the quiet mansion. You didn’t look back, even as your heart broke with every step.

-x-x-x-

The warm light of Wooyoung's living room did little to lift the heavy mood hanging in the air. Seonghwa sat on the couch, his head in his hands, his usually pristine appearance disheveled. Across from him, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and San exchanged uneasy glances, trying to process what they’d just heard.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wooyoung said, leaning forward, his voice incredulous. “You actually said that to her? To Y/N?”

Seonghwa nodded miserably, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t thinking. I… I just—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I messed up, okay? I’ve been calling her all day, but she won’t answer. Not even a text.”

San let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Man, I don’t even know what to say. That doesn’t sound like you at all. You’re usually so… composed.”

Yeosang crossed his arms, his gaze serious. “Seonghwa, what were you even trying to achieve by saying all that? You know Y/N isn’t the type to gloat or rub things in your face. Why would you accuse her of that?”

“I don’t know, I was drinking my ass off!” Seonghwa burst out, his voice cracking. “I was frustrated, insecure. Everything’s been piling up, and I took it out on her. I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. And now…” He trailed off, his shoulders shaking as tears began to fall.

Wooyoung, usually the jokester of the group, sat back in stunned silence. “Wow,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve never seen you like this. You’re really messed up about this, huh?”

Seonghwa lifted his tear-streaked face, his eyes red and swollen. “She’s everything to me, Woo. And I might’ve just ruined it. What if she doesn’t forgive me? What if I’ve lost her for good? What if she calls off the wedding?”

San reached out, placing a comforting hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Hey, let’s not jump to conclusions. Y/N’s mad, sure, but she’s not the type to give up on someone she loves. You just need to figure out how to fix this.”

Yeosang nodded, though his expression remained stern. “But you have to understand, Seonghwa, this isn’t just about apologizing. You need to address why you felt the way you did and how you let it get this far. If you don’t, this could happen again.”

Seonghwa wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, his voice trembling. “I don’t know where to start. How do I even begin to make this right?”

Wooyoung sighed, leaning forward again. “First, stop sitting here crying like a kid who lost his lunch money. You need to pull yourself together and think. What’s the one thing Y/N values the most?”

Seonghwa thought for a moment, his gaze distant. “Honesty. Effort. She… she always says actions speak louder than words.”

“Then start there,” San said firmly. “You need to show her you’re serious about making this right. Not just with some grand gesture but by being real with her. Own up to your mistakes, Seonghwa.”

Wooyoung smirked faintly, trying to lighten the mood. “And maybe, you know, don’t wait until she’s storming out to tell her how much you care next time.”

Despite the joke, Seonghwa’s face crumpled again, and he buried his face in his hands. “I don’t deserve her,” he whispered.

Yeosang’s voice softened. “Maybe not. But if you want her back, you have to prove that you’re willing to be the man she deserves.”

The room fell silent, save for the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Seonghwa nodded slowly, determination flickering in his tear-streaked eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said, his voice raw. “I just hope it’s not too late.”

You were sitting at your desk, trying to focus on your work, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the fight. Your chest tightened every time you replayed Seonghwa’s words in your head, the hurt still fresh.

A soft knock on your office door broke your train of thought.

“Come in,” you said, not looking up from your laptop.

The door opened, and you glanced up to see Nari peeking in. “Ms. Kim, there’s someone here to see you.”

“Who is it?”

Nari hesitated, then stepped aside to reveal Seonghwa standing behind her, holding a bouquet of white peonies. His expression was a mixture of nervousness and determination.

“May I come in?” he asked softly.

You hesitated, your emotions swirling, but finally nodded. “Five minutes,” you said, gesturing for him to enter.

Seonghwa stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He placed the bouquet on your desk and instead of him taking a seat in the chair across from you, he kneeled beside your chair, taking your hands in his, his gaze never leaving your face.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. I’ve been carrying so much pressure, so much doubt, and I let it poison the way I treated you. That’s not an excuse—it’s my failure, and I’m very ashamed of it.”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. Your heart ached when you noticed the tears in his eyes.

“I was wrong to say those things,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “Everything that’s happened with my company, the stock prices, the deals—it wouldn’t mean anything without you. I know I’ve been distant, and that’s my fault. I should’ve leaned on you instead of pushing you away.”

He leaned forward, his eyes pleading. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m begging you to give me a chance to make this right.”

Your resolve softened at the sight of him, so vulnerable and earnest. But the hurt still lingered. “Seonghwa,” you said, your voice steady but pained, “I love you, but I can’t be in a relationship where I’m left guessing how you feel or why you’re acting the way you are. I need communication. I need trust.”

“You’re right,” he said immediately. “And I promise you, I’ll do better. I’ll work on myself. I’ll show you, not just tell you, that I’m serious about us. Just… please don’t give up on me.”

You studied him for a long moment, the sincerity in his eyes undeniable. Finally, you sighed, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. “This is your last chance, Park Seonghwa. Don’t mess it up.”

Relief flooded his features, and he nodded, standing to leave. “I won’t,” he vowed. “I’ll prove it to you, Y/N. Every single day.”

-x-x-x-

As the days passed, the tension between you and Seonghwa continued to ease, though work and wedding planning kept both of you busy. Yeri and your mother had taken the reins on most of the arrangements, but one evening, Seonghwa insisted on joining you to finalize the wedding venue.

The two of you stood in the grand ballroom of a luxurious hotel, the soft glow of chandeliers reflecting off the white marble floors. The event planner led you through the space, pointing out features and discussing decor options, but your attention kept drifting to Seonghwa.

“What do you think?” you asked him, breaking his focus on the planner.

Seonghwa turned to you, his expression softening. “I think it’s perfect if you think it’s perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips. “That’s not an answer.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “The only thing that matters to me is standing next to you on that day. The rest is just details.”

The sincerity in his words melted the last remnants of your doubts, and you nodded. “Then this is the one.”

As you signed off on the venue, Seonghwa reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’ll make sure our wedding day is everything you’ve ever dreamed of,” he promised.

“And what about your dreams?” you teased.

He smiled, leaning in to kiss your temple. “They’ve already come true.”

---

Yunho’s mansion was decorated so beautifully. The high ceilings were adorned with crystal chandeliers that reflected the warm golden glow of the room. Tables were set with white silk tablecloths, elegantly arranged flowers, and gold-accented cutlery. A live string quartet played softly in the background, setting a romantic and celebratory mood.

You arrived with Seonghwa by your side, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back. The two of you paused briefly at the entrance, taking in the sight of your closest friends and family gathered to celebrate Yunho and Nari’s engagement.

“Wow,” you murmured, glancing up at Seonghwa. “They really went all out for this.”

“They deserve it,” he replied, his eyes warm as they met yours. “Yunho’s been waiting for this moment for months.”

As you made your way inside, Yunho spotted you and broke into a wide grin. Dressed in a sharp navy tuxedo, he looked every bit the successful businessman and soon-to-be husband. He approached with open arms, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, his excitement palpable.

“Of course,” you said, laughing as you stepped back. “There’s no way I’d miss this. Congratulations, Yunho. You and Nari are perfect together.”

Seonghwa shook Yunho’s hand firmly. “Congrats, man. You did good.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Yunho said, a playful smirk forming. “I learned from the best.”

Nari soon joined the group, her radiant smile lighting up the room. She wore a stunning floor-length dress in a soft blush hue, the perfect complement to Yunho’s tuxedo. She hugged you tightly before turning to Seonghwa, who congratulated her warmly.

“Thank you for coming,” Nari said, her voice filled with emotion. “It means so much to have you both here.”

As the evening progressed, the atmosphere grew livelier. Toasts were made, each one filled with humor and heartfelt wishes for the couple. Wooyoung, true to form, had everyone in stitches with his stories about Yunho’s awkward attempts at romance over the years.

“Remember when he accidentally sent Nari flowers meant for a client?” Wooyoung said, laughing so hard he could barely finish his sentence.

“Hey!” Yunho interjected, raising a glass in mock indignation. “It worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

The room erupted in laughter, and even Nari couldn’t help but join in, her cheeks flushed with happiness.

Later, you found yourself on the balcony with Seonghwa, watching the city lights twinkle across the river. The cool night air was a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the ballroom.

“They’re so happy,” you said softly, leaning into Seonghwa’s side.

“They are,” he agreed, wrapping an arm around you. “It’s nice to see, isn’t it? How everything fell into place for them.”

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Kind of reminds me of us.”

Seonghwa’s eyes softened as he turned to you. “I’d say they have a long way to go to match what we have.”

You laughed, swatting his arm playfully. “Always so competitive.”

“Only when it comes to you,” he said, his tone turning serious as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

The moment was interrupted by Yunho’s voice calling from inside. “Y/N! Seonghwa! Get back in here! They’re bringing out the cake!”

You shared a smile with Seonghwa before heading back inside, ready to celebrate the love and happiness of your dear friends.

End of Part Five.

40 notes · View notes