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emphistic · 8 months ago

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"I'm Lactose Intolerant"

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS ALREADY BECAUSE I FORGOT TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT, i have yet to get the hang of tumblr, yuuji hasnt been born yet, the itadori parents neglect their children so grandpa takes care of them, waaaaaay later is when yuuji is born, sukuna gets his tattoos when he is older

Prologue: As summer nears its end, and autumn takes its place, you find yourself in quite the situation. A new family has arrived in the neighborhood, and your parents have tasked you with greeting your new neighbors. A wacky grandpa, a gloomy tween. Seriously, could things get any worse?

A/N: Sukuna is 10 years old, while reader is 9 years old. However, Sukuna was held back a grade, so guess who is joining your class this year? *cue the confetti*

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

PS: i know little kids shouldnt be walking the streets alone, but lets just pretend the world is a better place

Chores are boring. Errands, on the other hand? Well, not so much.

You shielded your eyes from the rays of the sun as you walked down the street, avoiding the cracks on the pavement. The sky bled as the sun set and the songs of the birds started to come to a halt. It was a typical Saturday, help get the groceries, head home, and assist with dinner as much as possible. However, what wasn't typical was the fact that there was a moving company's truck blocking your way home.

Wow, there's definitely a better way to go about this, you sigh. Mindlessly, you kick a pebble aside and tighten your grip on your tote bag as your stride continues.

Several men in navy colored uniforms carry boxes as another man, who you estimate is a septuagenarian, surveys the workers from the front lawn of his new house. The man, who you also assume is your new neighbor, has his hands clasped behind his back and wears a green wool sweater.

Deciding to be polite, you clear your throat, neaten up your braids, and slowly approach the man, cautious as you try not to give him a heart attack. At nine years old, one may not know much, but one might know that killing your elderly neighbor is a pretty wack first impression.

The man looks quite surprised to see you approach, and even raises a white brow.

Okay, maybe this is a bad idea, you think as your palms start to sweat. You go through several introductions through your mind just to go with the most lame one.

"Hello, sir. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm your . . . uhh, new neighbor," you cringed at yourself before holding out a hand to the man.

"Ah, wasn't expecting to meet my neighbors on the first day here. I am Mr. Itadori, pleasure to meet you," his voice sounded like that of an old man's, yet, it had such a warm, cozy feel to it. He took your hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Likewise," you say, after a few seconds of silence.

"Should a girl, — pardon my rudeness — as young as you, be walking out here alone at this time?"

"Aha, my parents trust this neighborhood enough. And anyway, I was only getting groceries from the store, it's not too far from this block actually." You pointed a finger in the direction of said store.

"Wow, you must be pretty responsible for your parents to be sending you out for groceries, huh? Good to know some children in this neighborhood help out their families," Mr. Itadori turned to face a boy, probably not much older than you, who was carrying boxes into the house when he put emphasis on the word "some".

The boy had pink unruly hair, that was slicked back and spiky. You held back a giggle at the sight.

"Grandpa, I'm literally moving furniture into the house. What are you looking at me for?" The boy grumbled, but he didn't stop as he moved the boxes.

"I never said you didn't help out. I was just simply telling Y/N here, about how some children help out their families. No need to get upset now, Sukuna." Mr. Itadori gave a small chuckle, before abruptly turning to face you.

"Oh, right! How rude of me, I haven't introduced you to my grandson."

"Oh, no worries. You guys are probably busy—" You began, before being cut off.

"Nonsense! Sukuna! Come here, boy."

Sukuna muttered something, and dropped off a box by the front of the house before moving over to you and his grandpa.

Now that the boy was closer, you could make out his red eyes, and the frown on his face. Looking back at Mr. Itadori, you noticed he did not share the same qualities as his grandson, and instead had brown eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Introduce yourself!" Mr. Itadori lightly pushed Sukuna closer to you.

The taller boy stared at you for what seemed like forever, before averting his eyes to the ground and keeping them there. "Name's Sukuna."

"Y/N. But I think your grandpa already mentioned that," you tried to lighten the mood.

You swear you heard him say something along the lines of "pretty name" under his breath, but before you could ask, Sukuna retreated to his boxes. His grandpa looked displeased at that. Actually, that's quite an understatement. He looked furious with Sukuna, but he didn't do anything other than sigh and bid you adieu and good night.

You slowly walked back to your house, your arrival being a little later than usual, which your parents questioned you about, to which you explained that there was a truck in your way.

When it was time for bed, you did as you usually did. Showered, changed into your pajamas and watched a movie before cleaning up and preparing to actually go to bed. As you moved to close your window blinds, you noticed something you hadn't seen in a long time — considering no one's occupied the house next door since it was put on sale — there was a window right across from yours, and the light was on.

You didn't plan on becoming a creep at such a young age, but due to curiosity, you didn't peel your eyes away from the window. It surprised you to see that the room across from yours was a bedroom belonging to none other then Sukuna. When you saw the pink spikes of his hair come near the window, you quickly shut the blinds.

The next morning, your mom shook you awake.

You groaned, "Mom. . . What is it?"

"We have new neighbors, honey! I've already started prepping for baking an apple pie for them—" You let her ramble on while you were still half-awake.

Oh, right . . . you never mentioned your meeting with the Itadoris. Now you have to introduce yourself to them, yet again.

"—I just need you to grab a few ingredients for me, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Mom. No problem." You stretched out your arms and yawned.

"Perfect! I'll let you get ready then. I'll give the list on your way out." Then, your mom got up, and shut the door.

You yawned again and rubbed your forehead. This was definitely going to be an interesting day, to say the least.

You met your mom downstairs and she instructed you on the ingredients you needed to purchase. "Uh huh, got it. Thanks. Bye, Mom!

Still half-asleep, you slowly slipped on your sneakers and headed out through the door. The sun warmed your face, yet sent a chill down your spine.

Apples and lemon.

Apples. . .

And lemons.

You hummed to yourself as you walked down the street, passing by the Itadori house.

Apples and lemons—

"Gah!" A little rock got in your way, and you were about to faceplant onto the sidewalk when you felt a firm hand on your shoulder reel you back upward.

You turned to see who your savior was, and cocked your head to the side in surprise.

"Sukuna? What are you doing out here?"

"No 'thanks for saving me, Sukuna'? Also, contrary to your belief, other people in this neighborhood get out the house too, y'know?"

You scoffed, jutting out your bottom lip, "Thanks."

Sukuna held a smug look on his face.

"So . . . you gonna take your hand off my shoulder, or should I do that tor you?"

He looked taken aback, and swiftly returned his hand to his hoodie pocket. "I have to go get groceries. My grandpa sent me, because our house is basically empty?" Sukuna acted as if that was common knowledge.

"What did you have for dinner last night, then?"

"Ordered in."

You mumbled, "Figured."

"Anyway, Grandpa told me you know where the closest grocery store is? I need . . . directions."

"Oh! Right," you scratched the back of your neck. "I'm actually heading there right now. You can come with." If Sukuna didn't want to go with you, he certainly didn't show it (surprisingly).

"So you're actually going to turn this way, down here, across this weird looking house or something — I actually don't even know if it has someone living in it — then go in front of this—"

"Stop talking, and maybe we'll get there faster," Sukuna muttered.

You turned around to face him; he had his hands in his pocket and wore a bored look on his face. You huffed.

"Go have someone else show you the way, then. Y'know, I was actually trying to be nice to you and all. I'm even showing you the shortcut. And now look at how you're treating me." You turned away from him.

"'Trying to be nice'? Please. You haven't asked me how day was going. 'Trying to be nice' my ass."

You ignored his use profanity at such a young age, and you came to a skidding halt; Sukuna even bumped into your back when you stopped abruptly.

"What is your problem!? So what if I haven't asked you how your day was going? SO WHAT? You haven't asked me either. If you don't like me just leave. me. alone!"

"People are so uptight these days," Sukuna shrugged.

"Uptight? UPTIGHT? Please, be my guest, and show me how I'm the uptight one here." You couldn't believe this dude. He's the only other kid in this neighborhood — besides your sibling — and he refuses to be cooperative, kind, nonetheless, a decent person.

The rest of the walk to the grocery store happened in silence. And believe me, the silence was loooouuuuddd. You wholeheartedly believed Sukuna would leave, but he didn't. Which made you even more mad.

The bell above the door chimed when you stepped in the store, out of pettiness, you didn't even hold the door for Sukuna. He scoffed at that, and you turned around to face him. "Well, here you are. The grocery store. Happy now?"

"I'm never happy."

Wow, he must've been dropped on the head as a baby, because he certainly did not get the personality from his grandpa.

You walked through the aisles one by one and searched for the items your mother requested.

Apples and lemons.

You didn't even bother placing them in a bag, insisting on carrying them yourself. Meanwhile, Sukuna was still trailing behind you, much like a lost puppy. His groceries were all in a bag, and he looked ready to pay, but he was still behind you.

Finally, you got sick of his weirdness, and peered over your shoulder to get a look of his face, which was frowning, "Why are you following me?"

He looked like he was pondering, thinking of a way to answer your question. "Girls shouldn't be walking around alone. Especially you."

"Ugh, there you go again. Always thinking you're better than everyone else. And, whaddya mean 'especially me,' huh? You don't think I can handle myself? Are you here to protect me or something? Swooping in to save the day, my knight in shining armor? Seriously, Sukuna."

He groaned, and dragged his free hand down his face, "I came from a not so safe neighborhood. Can't you see I'm just trying to look out for you? If some man came up and harassed you, and I was shopping in some other aisle, would you blame me too?" His voice softened on the last part.

"Forget it, you're right. I'm wrong," you sighed and walked to the register.

When you got home, your mom ushered you inside and hurried to start on the apple pie. You bit your nails as she worked, and she quickly took notice of that.

"Something wrong, sweetie?"

You shook your head, and mouthed a simple "no".

While you were upstairs reading a book, you heard the beeping of the oven, signaling the completion of the baking process. Before you could even put down your book, your mother called out to you from downstairs.

She welcomed you in the kitchen and took great care in wrapping the freshly baked pie in tinfoil and sending you off to the Itadori house. But before that happened, however, she made you memorize your speech, reminding you to inform your next door neighbors of who originally made the pie. And with a soft pat on the back from your mom, you were off.

It was a quarter past 12 o'clock when you finally found the courage to knock on your neighbor's front door. You heard a "coming!" from inside the house, and returned your hand to its side.

Loud footsteps came closer until finally the door was flung open. You were greeted by the sight of Mr. Itadori in a fluffy red robe, and equally fluffy slippers.

"Ah! Y/N. What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

You stuttered a bit, "Hi, Mr. Itadori. My mom and I wanted to formally introduce ourselves, and welcome you to the neighborhood — I didn't mention our very much brief meeting yesterday."

"Oh wow! You can tell your mother I appreciate her kind welcome." He turned his head into the house, and called for, "Sukuna! Come here, boy."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother—"

"Agh, you children. Always the same. Nonsense, Y/N. Utter nonsense."

Sukuna stood behind his grandpa in record time, his speed surprised you. "What's she doing here?" He sneered. You offered him a glare in return while Mr. Itadori was oblivious.

"Don't be rude to our kind neighbor. She's here to formally introduce herself."

"Again?"

"Yes. Again."

"Whatever."

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the Itadoris' banter. "I've brought some apple pie — my mom baked it."

Mr. Itadori's eyes lightened up as you presented the tinfoil covered dish to him. "It smells delicious! You really didn't have to, my dear."

"It was no big deal, I promise," you laughed (nervously).

"I will put this on the counter, one second," Mr. Itadori walked away, leaving you and Sukuna alone. The taller boy crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

"Apple pie? Really? Are you trying to kill me and my grandpa? I'm lactose intolerant. We're lactose intolerant. He just didn't want to seem rude, so he's putting it away."

"Oh. . . uhh, I didn't know that—"

"I can tell. You didn't think to ask first? How considerate of you, Y/N."

You stumbled on your words.

"I'm just messing with you. Apple pie is his absolute favorite."

Your jaw dropped six feet, before you came back to your senses and rolled your eyes, "Did you have to scare me like that?"

He laughed aloud, "Duh. Shoulda seen the look on your face. Priceless!" He continued to laugh, while your expression remained stoic, trying not to laugh as well. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was actually funny.

When his laughter subsided, he cocked his head to the side. "What's with the face? Girls don't know how to joke around or something?"

You frowned.

Mr. Itadori returned to the both of you and patted his grandson on the back. "Well! Thank you again, Y/N. Tell your family I say thanks and appreciate their kindness."

"Of course. I'll be going now." You waved to Mr. Itadori — feigning ignorance to Sukuna — and walked back to your house next door.

When Sukuna and his grandpa sat at their newly assembled dining table, they both couldn't believe how good the apple pie tasted. Sukuna even asked for a second slice.

Mr. Itadori broke the silence, "So, school starts tomorrow."

Sukuna glanced at his elder, and raised a brow.

"Since you don't know anyone else at your new school, you can ask Y/N for help. She'll be in your grade anyway."

Sukuna sighed, "Grandpa, why are girls so difficult?"

"Ohoho," Mr. Itadori's laughter boomed throughout the house. "You're a funny one, Sukuna," and he ruffled his grandson's unruly hair, messing it up more.

#sukuna x reader #jjk #sukuna fluff #idk how to tag sos #sukuna x you #jjk x you #ryomen x reader #em writes ˎˊ˗

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creamflix · 12 days ago

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ino takuma x female reader; established relationship. pure fluff. sassy takuma who loves you very much. mentions of makeup #boyfriendmaterial men !! — masterlist here ☆

you always looked forward to date nights with takuma. the rush of excitement as you darted to the door to greet him never got old. but tonight, your enthusiasm was cut short when he took one long look at you and raised an eyebrow.

"you’re going out dressed like that?"

your smile faltered, jaw dropping slightly. “excuse me?”

“no, no, don’t get me wrong,” he started, waving his hands defensively, though his lips quirked up in a knowing grin. “the outfit’s fine — hot, even. but babe...” he leaned in closer, squinting at your face like a detective examining evidence.

“did you forget to blend your foundation on your jawline?” he asked, his tone so genuinely curious that you almost didn’t catch the teasing lilt.

“what?” you gasped, turning to the mirror by the door to inspect yourself. “no, i didn’t — wait, oh my god.” there it was, a clear streak of unblended foundation making your skin look mismatched.

takuma chuckled softly, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he inspected further. “and your eyeliner... it’s a biiitt uneven. left wing’s flying to heaven, but the right one’s still boarding.”

“takumaaa!” you groaned, smacking his arm lightly as heat rushed to your face.

“relax, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft but playful. “’m just sayin', you were in a rush, weren’t you? your blush is doing all the work, but your brows look like they clocked out early.”

“okay, okay, i get it!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “are you done teasing me, or do you have more notes?”

“one more thing.” his thumb gently brushed the corner of your lips.

“your lipstick’s smudged a little. probably from when you bit your lip while waiting for me.”

your glare softened at that, his observant nature making it impossible to stay annoyed. “ugh, fine. are we going or what?”

“not yet,” he declared, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward your room. “we’re fixing this. no way i’m letting you go out with makeup that doesn’t match your gorgeous self.”

“seriously?” you asked, half-annoyed, half-amused.

“yes ma’m. sit,” he instructed, pointing to the chair in front of your vanity. “truustt me, you’ll thank me later.”

“oh, so you’re a makeup artist now?” you teased, but you complied, sitting down and watching as he rummaged through your products.

“not professionally, but i’ve picked up a thing or two.” he shot you a wink before grabbing a beauty blender.

“blend, don’t swipe,” he muttered to himself as he fixed the foundation on your jawline. “and here... let me even out the blush. this one’s too strong.”

you couldn’t help but stare at him in awe as he worked with surprising precision. “how do you even know all this?”

“you,” he said simply, glancing at you with a soft smile.

“i pay attention. you’re always talking about makeup techniques, so i figured i should learn a little.”

your heart melted at that, but the real kicker came when he grabbed your eyeliner.

“okay, hold still. i’m fixing this wing.” he leaned in close, tongue peeking out in concentration as he carefully redid the uneven liner. “aaaand there. perfect.”

you blinked at him, stunned. “you’re... really good at this.”

“of course i am.” he smirked, pulling out a matching eyeliner and applying it to his own eyes. “gotta match my girl, right?”

“takuuuu,” you giggled, your tone dripping with affection.

“what? now we both look hot,” he said with a shrug, admiring his handiwork in the mirror. “ready to go now?”

you stood up, pulling him into a tight hug. “i guess i’ll forgive you for the ‘dressed like that’ comment.”

“hey, it was constructive criticism,” he teased, kissing your forehead. “now, let’s go turn heads. especially mine.”

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lo1k-diamonds · 11 months ago

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SX Seoul Series | Jungkook Entry 💜 Bubbles (Part 1)

PAIRING: Jungkook/Reader

SUMMARY: You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: exes, explicit sexual content, in public, oral, slight degradation and rough cause you are both hurt

PARTS: [1] [2]

(You can also read it on AO3)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You smiled at the bouncer on your way inside the club and brushed a strand of dark hair behind your ear. Your group called you to follow as you got lost looking around the newest club in Itaewon. It was purposefully dark with red neon lights in wavy lines flowing in the direction of the dance floor but not before a huge sign with black and white stripes coaxed your attention with promises expanding over the several floors: SX.

“Come along.”

You smile at your best friend and follow her and her friends to a reserved club area not too far from the bar. The Tech House music is making your rib cage hum comfortably, and you sit on a couch before she turns to you again.

“I know the bartender on our side tonight! I’ll go say hi for a second!”

You nod and watch her go as you take the space around you comfortably. The other girls are chatting, cross-checking who’s there tonight and who they know. You’re used to hanging with girls like them — fun and wild at parties and clubs. You don’t know them because you’ve been away for a while, but you trust your dearest friend to keep good company around.

Either way, you’re there to have fun and enjoy being back home. You take a deep breath, the familiar scent of sweat and alcohol latching itself onto your skin before you even contemplate dancing. Everyone else is already doing it, flowing like a perfect wave in that crowd, and you’ll join them soon enough.

The lights were flashing all around to the generous beat, making you tap your foot, and you contemplated getting up without waiting for your best friend when you saw him. Fully dressed in black in a way that avoided light and dancing so closely with a girl your guts burned with furious envy.

“Right? I’ve heard about him,” a girl gushed to your right. “He’s very hot.”

“You’re joking, look at that sleeve,” another one replied, and your eyes immediately traced his arm. It was fuller now. “I wanna ride that bad.”

“Do you think he has other tattoos?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” one answered, and they all giggled and laughed around. Your eyes never diverted from him or the way he was dancing with that girl, firm hands gripping her waist over a sparkly deeply cleavaged top.

“But you know, I’ve heard he fucks without kissing. Without even acknowledging you.”

Finally, your eyes turned to the girl sharing all the gossip, and you wondered how she knew that.

“First-hand experience?” You ask with a teasing smile, just making conversation. They didn’t have to know how truly interested you were in knowing.

“No,” the other girls turned to hear more, and you could see they were all charmed by the picture the girl was conjuring. “Not my kind of thing.”

The other girls teased her reply for a moment while you paid them little mind.

“Yeah, right. Look at him,” another one laughed openly.

“He’s fucking sexy and has this cute smile,” one said, almost wantonly. She was possibly voicing everyone else’s thoughts. “Face it, who wouldn’t want to touch those curls?”

“He can get any girl on her knees.”

“And a bad boy? Get serious. We’d all be lining up.”

“What if he changes?”

“What if we’re the one?”

They all giggled except you, starting to regret not having a drink in your hand.

“Guys like him don’t change.”

“Actually,” the girl with the gossip leaned forward. “Rumor is he was in a committed relationship and that when she dumped him, he did a one-eighty and never dated seriously again.”

Your friend neared you all with a tray of shots and a wide grin, “Who’s not dating seriously?”

“Whoa, what a bitch,” one replied, leaning forward to grab a glass.

“Who would waste that?”

“If I could tap that, I’d hook him around my little finger.”

Your best friend looked at you quizzically, and you just twitched the corners of your mouth. You grabbed a shot glass as well while the gossip girl explained everything to your best friend. In an instant, her eyes shot to yours, but you were purposefully avoidant.

“What’s his name anyway?” One of them asked, turning her back so they could toast.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Your eyes immediately fell back on him, and you ignored your friend’s worried looks. You cheered with the girls to a good and steamy night and drank the shot without much thought. It burned on its way down, but you were already burning from before, so no biggie. Who cared who he danced with, you were there to have fun too.

Your best friend called your name with a tinge of worry, and all you did was smile, “I’ll go grab another round.”

You got up and adjusted your short strapless dress to make sure it covered your ass before trying to get in between the crowd to reach the bar. You didn’t have to go that far, but you couldn’t control your curiosity. As you moved in closer, you could see how he seemed taller, more built, and so buff. He had let his hair grow longer, and it curled wildly around his ears, giving him an edge you found yourself liking a lot. Your lower belly was tingling already as you eyed him with hunger, especially those firm hands.

You were so hot that you were sweaty and by the time you leaned against the bar, you finally noticed something wasn’t right. The girl he was with was waving something small and flat between two fingers that she hid very quickly, and whatever it was got him angry. You knew that disgusted lip pull, and it made you smile.

He turned away from the girl, and you instantly faced the bar, giving the whole scene your back. You were curious, hot, and bothered by the mere fact that he was there, that you got to see him, that there was a possibility that you would talk. It had been a while. You shouldn’t be curious, but the tingly sensation down your stomach wasn’t interested in shouldn’ts.

It was then and there that you almost took a deep breath and committed to not look his way the rest of the night. Your curiosity shouldn’t be enough, the girls gossiped way too much so you had all the information you could need, and there was really no need for your paths to intersect.

But fate wouldn’t have you choose that road tonight, it would seem. You turned to the side, curious as to where he would be, and you smiled. There were only two people in between you and an outstretched arm with a full sleeve over the bar counter. He was too close to be ignored, and you just couldn’t.

You made your way to him and luckily the two people between you had just gotten their drinks and were ready to leave. Jungkook didn’t notice you getting near because the bartender was listening to his order, and you just leaned on the bar counter by his side.

“Order for me too, will you?”

He turned to you and his face was worth a million words. His lips parted to make way for air, but he wasn’t breathing, and that was when you noticed the lip ring. His skin was perfectly immaculate, the sweetness you’d recognize anywhere in the tender swell of his cheeks. Higher, his normally lovely eyes were wide in shock as he took in your presence. His eyebrows twitched, and you noticed another piercing, which along with the new ones on his lip made you smile as you leaned to support your head on your hand. He was still figuring out if you were a ghost while you were in wonderland, wondering what had happened to all that sweetness.

“Here you go,” the bartender placed a whiskey cola on the counter, and you turned quickly before Jungkook could react.

“Can you get me one too, please?”

You were already waving your credit card, and the bartender acquiesced without wasting a beat.

It was the moment he needed to grab his drink and chug half of it like he was dying of thirst. Or maybe he just really needed a drink after seeing you.

“Thirsty are we?” You asked, reaching for the glass from his hand and taking a couple of sips while never breaking away from his darkened eyes. The ice-cold drink had you close your eyes for a second, thankful for the refreshing sensation down your chest. “You always liked them sweet.”

You placed his glass near his hand again before turning to smile at the bartender returning with your card and your drink.

“You’re here.”

It wasn’t a question and if you weren’t interested in reading his lips, you might have missed it. So you smiled, letting the nostalgia fill you up in a nice kind of way. You had missed the little twitches of his lips while he mused, or the way he scratched his nose bridge softly when he was embarrassed or at a loss.

“I am. How are you?”

His eyes were focused on the drink, and he scoffed at your question, reaching to drink the rest of it. That was the first time you doubted this could end well. There was a bitterness in his features that dragged yours out of the deepest corners of you where you wished it would remain buried.

“Why are you here?”

Your lips twitched, “New club in Seoul.”

He sneered, “There were many new clubs in Seoul over the last year. Never crossed you before.”

“You know I wasn’t here.”

Your eyes locked, and yours had all the meaning they could have. You weren’t in Seoul, so you couldn’t have crossed paths before. But you were here now.

He looked down and licked his lower lip while kicking the bar pensively. You let him process the fact that you were there in the flesh while you drank. When he looked up at you again, you caught his eyes and passed him your drink. He took a second, but he grabbed it, turning to the bar to down it while you leaned into his ear.

“Dance with me.”

He looked out of the corner of his eye at you, and you pulled back, waiting. You weren’t as crazy as anyone could assume, you knew the options. He could outright laugh in your face and move away like you were a plague, and it would hurt, but you would understand.

You kept your eyes locked on his, riding that heartbeat as you waited. You also knew that he could take you up on that offer, dance with you, and who knew what else. And it wasn’t as much as for the mystery, or a challenge, or anything of the like. You didn’t want him for any of those vain reasons. You wanted so much more.

He gave you a short nod and placed your empty glass next to his, with only the ice left. You gave him a cheeky smile before turning to go deeper into the crowd, far away and in the middle so that your best friend wouldn’t see you and advise you to be wise and think twice. What could you tell her; the moment fate challenged you with the chance of meeting him, you instantly lost.

You never turned back to check if he was following, you just assumed he did. You stopped with the flashing lights, sweating bodies, and thrumming music all around you, and you closed your eyes. You wanted his hands on you, his arms around you, his waist so close you’d be indistinguishable. You craved his presence, slick pooling at the thought of it alone.

So when two firm hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back flush against a firm chest, snaking arms holding your stomach and going up your sternum like they owned you, all you could do was free-fall into him, releasing a moan that you knew he could have never heard, but he surely felt.

He hid his nose in your hair, lulling you two to the beat, and you melted against him. He was always a good dancer, the way he rolled his hips to guide yours reminding you of far sweeter times. His hand reached your chest and rested there, and you thanked the dark, the loud music, the crowd, the alcohol, the moment. It was in those moments that the deepest desires came out, hiddenly safely away. Only the two of you knew: how he was brushing his nose and lips on your neck, and how you were grabbing his arms to close around you tighter.

“When did you come back?” His lips were so close to your ear that a wave of shivers ran down your neck.

“Two days ago.”

His arms around you had you losing yourself further and further. You couldn’t care less what the music was or where you were. All you wanted was that chance, and you were greedy.

“Are you alone?”

You sank your nails into his skin, “Youngjoo is here.” He didn’t react, but you knew he would remember your best friend. “Are you?”

You forced the words out of you. You almost didn’t want to know, especially after what the girls were gossiping about. Maybe they were wrong and he was dating someone seriously. But then he would have never been dancing with that girl before, so maybe the rumors were true. And on that end, you had very mixed feelings.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t move away either. You loved everything as it was: every inch of his skin glued to yours, his lips ghosting your neck, his hands seconds away from groping you and making you beg.

But eventually, you needed more. You needed an answer. You’d beg, gladly, but not if he had his thoughts on someone else.

So you turned in his arms, the short dress allowing you to easily glue your bodies together as you hid near his ear. “Answer me,” you cooed, brushing his neck with your fingers until you were embracing and grazing his scalp with your nails. You leaned on him, his sweat not bothering you for an instant. It reminded you of what it was like to feel him that close while on his lap. When he would fuck into you, sweetly and strongly until every breath was a moany whimper, and you buried your fingers just like that to keep him close. His delectable scent would invade you then and envelop you tightly in everything Jungkook-related until all there was left was his coarse words tensing the coil in your—

He breathed near your ear, and you froze. But he said nothing, and so you sighed.

“Answer me,” you asked again. This time you nuzzled his ear and pressed yourself even closer, “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re by yourself, that you have no plans, no one waiting at home, and nothing stopping you from doing this,” you let out all your deepest desires, carried out by the close and delirious moment.

His hand was pressing up your spine and nape as you spoke until it latched onto your hair, but it didn’t pull you away. You had moved by yourself to be as close as you could, breaths fanning each other’s faces as you waited for his reply.

You waited and longed, and tried not to rub your body flush against that familiar warmth that you were craving like the air you breathed. Unmistakably, your body betrayed you by leaning closer and closer until your noses grazed briefly, and that was when you felt the pull. His hand pulled your head back by your hair, and you opened your glistening eyes, teeth deep into your lower lip with utmost desire, only to find his dark eyes and rigid expression. And that was enough to shake you and put out in the open everything you wished had stayed hidden: he was angry.

Suddenly, you remembered very well the last time you saw him. How much it hurt him, and you. How much of a coward you had been. How much you didn’t deserve a drop of his attention, let alone his time, touch, or warmth.

He let you go slowly as memories you thought no longer haunted you came rushing back, making you swallow a lump. But you smiled, because how could you not? He was angry, so very clearly, and you deserved it.

Your bodies were finally separated and despite the happiness in your chest at having had the chance to see him, your knees were weak and your legs wobbly. You couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you voiced, hoping that your expression conveyed how much you meant those words. For now. For before.

And you turned to leave with a deep breath. Were you running away? Yes. In a way, from the anger you created in him and the regret in yourself. From the risk of being rejected head-on, which you knew you had coming. But you were never brave, so you couldn’t face it. You could even agree he deserved to have the pleasure, but you were far too selfish to let him have it. No. You’d remain the bitch who dumped him and couldn’t face the consequences, which was exactly why you were leaving.

It was chilly outside, but it didn’t matter, you were too hot from all the emotions — the excitement and the shame and regret. You stepped to the street where you knew that among the cars stopping and passing, you’d eventually catch a taxi dropping people off, and took out your phone to text your best friend that you were leaving.

You had just hit send when someone grabbed your arm, and you offered resistance, ready to fight whoever dared to try to grab you and—

Familiar dark eyes faced you back, and you instantly let your body fall to his chest. His jawline was still firm as he clenched it, angry eyes stiffening his face, but you still let yourself get drawn in like a magnet to a polar opposite. You knew he was mad, knew he had reasons to hate you, despise you, treat you worse than the girls he fucked without kissing or acknowledging, but fuck were you—

He stepped back and dragged you along, and you offered no resistance. You had no idea where he was taking you as he walked you down the street tightly by the arm, hiding his grip between you as you walked. You looked up at him, ignoring if you’d trip and fall with such high heels. He looked angry, and you cursed yourself for thinking it looked hot as hell on him.

He pulled you into a dimly lit back alley that led to a residential area and stopped you just behind a hidden corner hidden by a parked car. Your back hit the wall, and you looked up at him while grabbing the chain strap of your bag over your head so it wouldn’t be in the way.

That thought repeated itself — he looked hot as hell. You didn’t like that he was angry with you, but that tension on him was sexy as fuck, and you wanted to be the one to relax him. To let him take out his frustration on you until he was vulnerable and sweet like you always remembered him.

Those were the thoughts in your mind when you raised your hands to touch him, but he slapped your hands away harshly. You didn’t have time to react, though because a second later he caged your face in his hands and crashed his mouth to yours, pressing you between him and the wall.

The cold wall was nothing when you were burning inside out. His mouth was hungry on yours, and you paid him back in kind, getting your tongue to meet his just as eagerly. Your hands gripped his shoulders closely while you tried not to let the lightheadedness get you, but it was too late. All you wanted was happening right now, you’d keep kissing him and reaching for him until the end.

His hands lowered to your curves as his lips trailed down your jawline, and you moaned when he squeezed your chest harshly. You pulled him closer; you wanted it all, and when he humped his erection to your hip, all you could think to do was beg.

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling how hard he was through both your clothes, from head to base. “Fuck me right now. Please.”

His lips quickly came to yours, if to shut you up or not, you couldn’t tell. Either way, he gave you enough space to reach his waist, unbutton his pants and grab his cock firmly. He rutted your hand with wanton groans into your neck, and you felt like the world was yours. If you could have him, then you wouldn’t complain or whine ever again. If that thick cock would stretch you again like you wished so badly, then you’d shut up about everything wrong in this world because absolutely nothing would be wrong ever again.

Maybe he heard your prayers because suddenly he grabbed your hips and tapped them for you to instinctively jump on his lap. You supported yourself on his shoulders while he kissed you and let you play with his lip rings, rolling your tongue over them. Meanwhile, you could feel but not exactly know what he was doing at your waist level in between your two bodies. Only when he put the condom wrap near his mouth so he could rip it open with his teeth did you realize there was a good reason to interrupt your make-out session.

You let him have his focus while he put it on, lazily brushing your lips over his forehead. He searched for your panties, only to rudely pull them to the side and push himself inside you. You groaned with a hint of a whine at the burn, but soon he made you jump on his lap, shoving his cock fully into you, and you let your head fall back. Fuck, had you missed this.

You didn’t have time to let the pleasure reach every corner of you, but your enjoyment was not cut short. His hips snapped into yours and your chin dropped, eyes hooded when you realized that was how you were going to get him. He did it again, grabbing your shoulder and hip into place, and the corners of your mouth twitched. You almost smiled before biting your lip as he started a paced rhythm that didn’t give you a second’s rest.

His angry eyes were on you as the slaps echoed into the night along with your stifled moans until you couldn’t care. Who cared if someone found Jungkook fucking your brains out? You wanted him to, dreamed of it, remembered it, had wished on all your lucky stars you would one day get to feel that way again. And now? Fuck if you cared who caught you. That thick cock ramming into you was the sweetest thing—

He grabbed your hair to pull you to kiss him, and you kept on moaning into his mouth. His tongue didn’t meet the reception he wanted, and you blamed the way he was fucking into you so hard you couldn’t even breathe right. Maybe it aggravated him, or it just gave him his next idea, but in a second he was kissing down your neck, which had you grabbing his head close so he would keep going.

Suddenly, he yanked the upper part of your dress and as it didn’t have stripes, the elastic gave in and let the fabric slide. He did the same on the strapless bra, not stopping his hips for a second, until your chest was out in the open, bouncing with every thrust.

He buried his face between your tits, licking and biting for a moment in which you knew you were dripping slick down both him and you. You fucking loved it. Your haze was so up in the clouds, you couldn’t be bothered to come down until he did something that shook your heart.

He tightened your legs around his waist and leaned in a special angle. It allowed him to hold you firmly against the wall and fuck you in a way that rubbed your clit just like you loved it. Instantly, the way he reached deep inside you had you moaning breathlessly. Then he straightened up, carefully perfecting his movements until your mouth was open, and you were jumping on his lap with him to the best of your abilities. He knew he had you in the right spot, you were squirming but desperate to stay close, moaning and completely lost, trying to sink your nails into his skin but weak to the sensations leaving you adrift. He reveled in that, with such pride swelling inside him, he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from grabbing both your tits and squeezing them harshly.

He felt the way you tensed around his cock, and he knew he had you. With every snap of his hips, your eyes closed further, your moans became breathy, and your legs pulled him more in. He knew he could squeeze you to the point it bruised without as much as a whimper, but he stayed clear from doing it, taking pleasure only in the way his cock was so deep inside you that he knew you’d never forget it.

You took your hands to his over your chest, and then it hit you that only he could do you like this. Only he knew every little thing that you liked, only he knew how to grope and squeeze without hurting you, only he knew exactly how to fuck you into oblivion every time. Because it was him.

Fuck, it’s him. After so long—

You tried reaching for him, but your hand dropped to his shoulder as you let the orgasm shake you and steal away your inhibitions if there ever were any. You closed your eyes and felt his body press closer to you, almost as if to hide you from the world, as you moaned and cursed him for releasing you like this. He fucked you through it, then hid in your neck when it came to his climax, grunting and holding you tightly. You grinned and petted his head when he stilled, blissful with having him tucked deep inside you again.

Until he cursed into your neck, and you weren’t sure if it was out of giddiness, delight, relaxation, or relief like it would have been for you, or if it was because he was pissed at himself.

When he let you down a bit more abruptly than you anticipated, you were left with a stronger doubt.

He turned to the side to get rid of the condom, and you took the time to put your bra and dress back in place. When he turned back to face you, you had already grabbed your bag from the floor and were just looking at him. Your lips twitched — he looked so fucking handsome with that spark in his eyes.

He cursed, then ruffled his hair for a moment before looking at you again, “I’ll take you home.”

You pulled your hair neatly back and pursed your lips, “I’m staying at Youngjoo’s. I don't have a place yet, so we… wouldn’t have privacy.”

He openly snorted, “You're assuming I want seconds.”

You sighed with a light shrug, “Isn't that what we just did?”

His derision fell through as his features hardened again, but you didn't argue. You did what you did and didn't regret it for a second. You were both adults, and he followed you. There was no point in pretending you didn't want each other. That was what you asked for and what he had given you, whether that made him angry or not.

But you didn't want to antagonize him. You gave him a short nod, “It's okay, I can—”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a dry look before giving you a nod to follow him. You considered for a second if you should — if it made him so angry, maybe you shouldn't. But tonight you were giving zero fucks about shouldn’ts. You were doing what you wanted, and what you wanted was your hands on him for as long as possible.

So when he stopped next to a red motorcycle and opened the seat compartment to get you a helmet, you smirked. You wouldn't tell him, but you missed exactly that — hugging him while he sped between every single obstacle and your hair flowed behind you with the wind. When you were free to go mad fast but remained safe as only he made you feel.

He sat first, putting on his helmet expertly and starting the motor in a well-rehearsed move. You had seen him do it before, when you were still together, but there was a certain magic to it. Even some things changed, he didn’t.

He leaned his head ever so slightly to glance at you, and you smirked, finally getting on behind him and gripping him firmly. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you were feeling daring — and he looked back. He checked on you, despite the derision and silences. You took the small win.

“You remember where Youngjoo lives?” You asked in a bit of a shout as he looked at the road to finally get going.

He didn’t answer you, but seeing the direction he took, you immediately assumed he remembered. And with this, you allowed yourself to lean closer, wrap your arms tighter around his torso, and relax. You inhaled his scent unapologetically by sticking your face into his shoulder; the helmet was big, and he surely felt it. You palmed his chest and torso over his jacket; you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. You were petty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop and get angry with you or snap your hands away. Knowing this was perhaps the last chance you’d ever have to touch him, so you did. Wrong or right, it didn’t matter to you. You’d remember this later and all the little sensations, and you’d be happy you did.

You were lulled by his warm body and the drum of the motor raging on, so you paid little attention to where you were going. All you knew was that when he stopped and pushed a button for a communal garage to open at the foot side of an apartment complex, it was not Youngjoo’s place.

He rode more softly through the cars parked underground until he found his spot and stopped. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t need to. You stepped out of the bike and handed him your helmet, and he took it and put it back, the both of you quiet. You made sure to remain quiet as you followed him, small as a mouse, into the elevator lobby. Then, you got inside one, and he pressed the seventh floor. Even when the doors closed with only the two of you there, you stayed quiet.

Your mind was roaring on about him bringing you to his place and the only reason he would have to do that. Your chest could have exploded. With every passing minute ever since you laid eyes on him, it felt like you were living a dream. Only in dreams did you think you’d ever have the chance of being near him, so no matter what, you were winging it. Living the moment, even if all of this turned out to be an angry fuck, you’d gladly get on your back.

He typed the code to unlock an apartment door, and you followed him inside. You left your cheekiness outside, in the night, right before you got into the bike and decided to make the most of your time with him. He threw the motorcycle keys on a table you couldn’t see because it was dark and turned on the lights, making you hold your breath. He had moved to that place, that much was certain, but this space didn’t remind you of Jungkook like you expected it to.

You had only taken one step to peep into his home, you meant to turn back and take your shoes off as it was respectful to do, but he was a step ahead. You moved out of the way to switch places with him right after he got his jacket on the hanger, but he had something else in mind. His hands followed you to your waist, and as soon as you looked up, eager lips were searching for yours.

You instantly melted against the wall, hands raising to run through his hair as you let yourself dive into that contentment again. While you were relaxed, he was clearly impatient. His palms traced your curves in wide but quick movements, so firmly you knew you could have already been naked, he was learning the same. His tongue was inside your mouth almost as quickly as his body pressed to yours, stealing your thoughts and any possibility you ever had to change your mind. Not that you would, and you were sure he knew that. Your hands were grabbing him close, your breathing was heavy and dragged, and you weren’t fighting his kiss in the slightest, on the contrary. Your tongue was inviting him and your body was arching to expose more skin. You were taking what you could, and you’d give back whatever he wanted.

But then he broke the kiss and looked down, forcing you to stop as well. You looked at him under wanton fluttering lashes, only to find him with that same stiff and reticent expression you had seen before.

Your first heartbeat stung — you could guess why he was hesitating, and there was nothing you could do about it now.

The second revolted you — you were there, weren’t you? In his house? He brought you here, so why worry? Why hesitate? Why overthink?

The third got you annoyed — if he was that hesitant, why bring you there in the first place? Why bother?

The fourth riled you up, and that was when you spoke, “What’s wrong?”

He refused to look up at you, but never moved away.

His breathing was calming down, and you spoke without thinking, “Changed your mind?”

His eyes finally moved to yours and you saw his anger. And again, like a well-rehearsed exercise, all you could think was how you were right there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, reaching for the curling strands of hair behind his ear.

He didn’t move, his eyes fixed on the corner of your lips, and you knew he was forcing himself to stay like this.

“I can leave,” he finally said. “You can sleep here, and I can leave.”

“Why?”

He finally looked up at your eyes as you let your head fall back to the wall.

“This is your place, why leave?”

His jaw tensed, and you could swear you saw a vein pulsing.

You sighed, “You brought me here, so here I am. What do you want to do? Fuck me until morning? Gladly. Just sleep? I’m sure you have a big bed. Drink until we pass out? I’m down. Talk?” His eyebrows twitched, and she nodded, “Not sure how that would work, but we can. Or not. I won't say another word if you don’t want me to. Just stop this internal struggle of yours. Do what you want to do.”

You were as comfortable as could be between him and the wall and just waited for his decision. Your eyes stayed on his pensive expression, taking in the little details before lowering to his wide shoulders and biceps. He was definitely more buff, and you wondered if it changed things a lot or—

“You can shower first.”

He backed away from you, and you couldn’t help your expression sobering up. He looked almost apologetic, hiding something deep inside while showing you something you could only call a mask.

But you knew him. All those women thirsting after him, wishing they could make him smile and fall for them, didn’t know him like you did. For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.

So you nodded and walked towards the bathroom, but not before turning around midway, “Please don’t leave.”

The look you gave him was enough — pleading, whereas his eyes flickered with an emotion you had not yet seen on him tonight. But even if you wanted to press it and ask, you didn’t. At the end of the day, it was still his choice, and you were well aware of it.

You took a calming shower, cleaning the sweat and alcohol from your skin with a shower gel that smelled of him, and wondered what your next step should be. You ended up deciding that if he had left despite your request, you would call a taxi and go back to Youngjoo’s. You honestly hoped as you toweled yourself that he would tell you to leave and be clear about it, instead of leaving to give you space at the expense of his comfort.

You glanced around the bathroom and ignored your discarded dress and heels in the corner, searching for something else instead. Your eyes fell on a black tee thrown over the laundry basket, but that didn’t quite make it in. You grabbed it and brought it to your nose, shutting your eyes instantly with a longing scrunch of your face — it smelled of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the mess of feelings that his very existence created in you, but the tears in your eyes were enough.

You quickly put it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. He always enjoyed oversized clothes, which on you looked like two of you could fit. Your lips curved as you smoothed the fabric over your stomach, his scent gracing your senses every time you took a breath. Nothing beat that comfort.

You turned to leave the bathroom and hoped to find Jungkook still there. You hoped he’d let you keep the tee, though you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it off if it would be replaced with his strong arms—

The scent of coffee hit your nose quickly once in the living room, and your brow furrowed. Not because it was coffee, Jungkook liked coffee, but because when you neared the kitchen, your guts twisted. On the counter, you saw a fuming mug, and the cinnamon smell instantly teared you up. That plus the bottle of soy milk and the honey pot pushed to the back told you many things: he had those things he never really drank before lying around, he remembered your favorite latte, and he made it for you.

Your eyes jumped to his back; he was looking outside the kitchen window and by the intense coffee scent around him, you knew before he turned that he was having a black espresso.

He looked at you and your guts turned; all you could do was look into his eyes while your fingers gripped the hem of his shirt on you. You were tearing up in a way you couldn’t control, everything was too much. He didn’t leave. You were there, in his life, in his home, wearing his clothes, about to have your favorite drink that he prepared for you because he still remembered how. That meant he had to care, even if just a little, and you didn’t know what to say but—

Your chin trembled, but before you voiced anything, he finished his coffee, put the empty cup in the sink, and passed you to enter the bathroom. The door merely clicked closed, and you covered your eyes, trying to reel your emotions back in. You neared the counter to grab your coffee and as soon as the taste hit your tongue, your heart shook, creasing lines between your eyebrows as you teared up.

You didn’t want to have hope, but your stupid heart was turning a deaf ear. You never had hope before; you knew you fucked up and never handled things properly. Just for the way you hurt him, you knew you didn’t deserve any kindness. You scoffed at yourself and drank more to have the comfort of that warmth down your chest as if it came straight from him. You knew, and it made no sense, but you were still there, and you were willing to delude yourself for a moment longer.

So you took the mug and the opportunity to look around while you heard the shower faintly in the background. His place was bigger now, and you looked around with a smile on your face. He had the same black leather couch, the same gray bean bag, and the same shoebox by the entrance. The fact that he had a projector screen instead of a TV made you smile; he spoke for ages about wanting to do that if he ever moved out of his previous place. But as you took in the rest of the apartment, your smile broke a little.

On the corner, there was a barbell weight set, dumbbells, a pull-up bar, and resistance bands. He used to work out before, but now you knew why he looked bigger — he definitely worked out more now. You pursed your lips with the sweet latte comforting you as you sipped it slowly; you didn’t want to think about why he was making that effort.

You moved on to take a look at his desk, interested in what he was working on, and you stilled. He still had his gaming keyboard, mouse, and desktop, but now he had books about photography on the desk. He always liked photography and filmmaking, but the new camera and microphone spoke volumes about what he was working on at the moment. You searched around for the easel he’d always have with a recent work in progress or his sketch notebook, but you couldn’t find them, and so you pressed your lips. You loved it when he sketched you, always when you least expected it, showing you beautiful versions of yourself you only started believing because of him.

You finished the coffee, eager for the sweet trace to link you back to him. You wondered what happened to—

You turned when you heard the bathroom door open; you never noticed he had stopped showering. Your thoughts tripped over themselves at the sight of him: wet raven hair ruffled by a towel long abandoned somewhere, dark eyes set on you as if he wanted to make sure he was seeing right, soft golden skin covering wide shoulders and big arms, and chest, leading to firm abs that were always there, but not as marked. Your eyes lowered, but the black towel was hanging on to his hip like you could only envy.

You raised your eyes to find him serious, looking at you; tense features on a tense body.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, waving the empty mug before placing it down on the kitchen counter. You swallowed a lump at the view of him walking towards you, despite his demeanor. “It’s my favorite—”

You weren’t startled when he grabbed your head and crashed his mouth to yours. You were praying for it to happen, and the burn running down your chest from the way your mouths tried to consume one another had you melting instantly. You wanted him, you weren’t hiding it, and whatever way he wanted to touch you worked as long as he did. As long as those lips pressing yours covered all of you. As long as his tongue fighting yours spelled your pleasure at his whim, while his fingers pressed marks only he could trace on you.

Your hands moved to those wide shoulders that had your knees wobbly, and he pushed them away before forcing your head up to face him better. He wanted your focus on your kiss only, and you didn’t mind, but the temptation to grab him and scratch him was overriding your senses. You tried again, but this time he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him. You gripped his shoulders for support, finally sinking your nails in the soft muscle just as he nibbled your bottom lip.

Your ass hit something and when he pushed you to get on it, you just briefly freed one hand to throw whatever was on the dining table behind you off. You moaned with the bites he was leaving down your neck, while you focused on keeping him close with your legs wrapped around him. He fumbled with the tee shirt to get his hands on you and quickly grabbed your chest in a push-and-squeeze motion that had you moaning and humping him. Fuck, you missed this. No one could ever mess you up like he could, you always turned into a whimpering wet mess with him.

He scratched down your stomach to your hips, squeezing them harshly, then pulled away. He grabbed the hem of the shirt, and you raised your arms instantly to let him strip you.

The, he stepped back and threw the shirt on the floor, hungry dark eyes observing you from head to toe.

“Fuck, look at you.”

A subtle line showed between your eyebrows; his tone was abrasive in a way you weren’t familiar with. But the way he got back between your legs while getting on his knees was in line with what you knew. He, in a praying position, tracing your skin with open-mouthed kisses while he groped and scratched every inch of you, was one of the reasons you couldn’t forget him. You couldn’t let go of what it felt like to be desired by that man. The thought alone had you wet and whimpering, the only difference was that now you’d experience it again after only dreams and hopes.

His mouth kept tracing kisses on your inner thighs, just like he knew would drive you crazy, but you didn’t whine about it. No, you wanted it to last. Whatever he’d give to you, you wanted it. You weren’t beyond begging, but you wouldn’t just with a little bit of torture. No, you knew how that mouth could move on you, how his tongue could lap at the perfect rhythm. You could wait for perfection.

He slapped your ass on one side, opening your leg further with a whimper from you. He repeated the motion on the other side, and only then did you notice you were squeezing him between your legs. It made you smirk as you looked down — you could see his dark eyes with a few wet hair strands over them, the hint of teeth as he grazed your sensitive inner thighs. He could spank you all he wanted; you wanted him to. So you smiled and pressed your lips, clearly telling him that you’d keep your mouth shut.

He bit down, getting a deep moan from you. You were clenching around nothing, dripping with slick, and you were sure he noticed.

“Since when are you so patient?”

He sounded annoyed, and you giggled wantonly, so fucking amused you couldn’t help it. “I’m patient when it’s worth it.” You could feel his hands pressing your skin, going to the swell of your ass to squeeze, and you nearly sighed. “I wouldn’t dare to rush perfection.”

He scoffed but dropped his mouth on you instantly, having all your cockiness evaporating on the spot. He ate you like only he did, grabbing your squirmy self still while he made out with you. His tongue lapped at your clit in a fixed rhythm that you couldn’t explain, and seconds later you released every square inch of air from inside your lungs with a deep moan. He knew you liked a stable, slow rhythm, but keeping your thighs in place was irking you. It was right there! If only he’d let you move. Just a centimeter right— No! Just one or two to the left, and you’d be lost to those sensations you hadn’t felt in months.

You whimpered, but you couldn’t talk while he did that to you. You reached for his hands on your hips and squeezed them, both looking for support and for a way to be free. His humming to your core had you sucking in a breath, but what broke you were his words.

“Stay still, bubbles. Let me get you there.”

He licked you faster in a way that had you whimpering and tensing up like a coil about to spring. Every lap of his tongue increased your tension, pitched your moan, and stole your breath, to a point you thought you’d explode. You sat up and grabbed his hair, ecstatic. It was him with his face half buried in you, eating you, getting you there, calling you by your pet name like nothing changed.

That thought alone pushed you to the edge, and you hopped on the train. Steadily and surely, Jungkook would take you there, just like he promised. Just like you wished.

So you started moaning louder, half derailed, “Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so good.” You could barely breathe, but you wanted him to know how much you loved this. “Take me there, please, I’m—”

Your voice broke because you suddenly were cold. You were panting and shocked, but your first instinct was to look down at him and loosen up your grip on his hair.

“Are you okay?”

He faced you quietly, with your slick covering his nose, mouth, and chin while his digits dug into your hips. Your worry clouded your judgement, having your hand brush his cheek in search of an answer that only came when he stood up and turned away. Then, you blinked to reality and looked down and around. You were confused. Not because he stopped, but because he insisted on staying quiet and to himself.

You got up and were about to speak your mind when you saw that the towel had fallen to the ground. That gave you the impulse to walk up to him and look down shamelessly — he was so hard, he was pointing at you. You raised your eyes and found his on yours, darker than before. He was tense and angry, that was clear, but he was hard, having rubbed his hand over his face to clean your slick off him. But then, why was he licking his lips and his lip rings, where your taste was probably stronger?

You took a deep breath and placed your hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him steadily. He let you, walking back until his calves hit the sofa. You tapped his shoulders once and he sat down. His hands were on your hips and started tracing circles absentmindedly, and you leaned closer to pet his hair. His sweet caresses were enough to soothe you, to become sure of something you weren't sure you had the right to be sure of. But it didn't matter — he chose the wrong night to be indecisive. You were willing to choose for you both.

You kissed his head before getting on your knees in between his legs. He gave you a dark cold stare and with anyone else you might have cowered, but not with him. You waited a moment with your hands over his legs, but he never gave you clear permission, incentive, or rejection. So you took the option that suited you best and leaned in.

You trailed your lips over his soft and built thighs, kneading the firmness with a whimper caught in your throat. You kissed closer and closer, releasing sighs left and right and paying little to no mind to what he would think of you for it. You both had always been like this: crazy for one another, praising and worshiping as quickly as you would use and abuse. You had never had another relationship like it, before or after, and to say you missed it would be an understatement.

But you weren’t going to sob over past mistakes right now. No, what mattered now was to not make a stupid mistake like not kissing, licking, and scratching every inch of him until he either begged or complained, or you lost it.

You moved ever so closer to his crotch but stopped by his balls first, giving them wide-tongued licks that had him sighing. You glanced up to see his eyes closed, with wet hair dripping down his shoulders; the first hint of relaxation from him. That’s it, you coed in your mind. Fuck, did you miss seeing him falling apart. You craved it and you’d make it happen.

You kept licking and kissing, and as you moved up his shaft, it occurred to you that it didn’t matter that you hadn’t cum. It didn’t matter that he had given up, or even why. You weren't opening your mouth around his tip and licking it with hunger because you wanted something in return.

You moaned as soon as his taste hit your buds, and your thoughts became a blur. Your head bobbed mindlessly, and you drooled all over him, using the expanse of your tongue on his tip, taking whatever you could no matter how because you fucking missed it. That taste, that hardness, the hand that came to grip your hair but remained light as a feather, until finally, you looked up. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure with his mouth agape, tongue peaking through, and licking his lip ring while grabbing your head in a firm yet loving gesture — that was it, the prize. He was finally relaxed as you bobbed your head and drooled all over him, and the perspective of making him weak exhilarated you in a way that had you going harder, firmer, stronger. You didn’t notice, but you were breathing in between his cock touching your throat, your cheeks stayed hollowed, and your hand accompanied your every move over his shaft while you played with his balls. When his precum invaded your mouth, all your thoughts went out the door.

You gripped his cock firmer and moaned all over it, adjusting your posture to focus even better. Fuck, did you want his taste in your mouth. You touched yourself to the thought of it before, of him, but now being there on your knees with his grunts finally adoring your ears, your focus was all on him. You could come later to the memory of that very moment, all he had to do was let go and shoot warm ropes of cum down your throat.

But he recoiled and guided your head away. You had no idea if he pulled your hair, but you knew he never asked you to stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were grunts of pleasure, and you had seen his face — he was on cloud nine. He liked it, he was weak for it, for you and the way you did it, so why?

You looked up, an arched eyebrow quizzically raised, but he had his bicep covering his eyes while his chest heaved up and down. You were done with him stripping away everything you wanted from you, so you got up and got on his lap with a knee on either side of him. You thought he might have shooed you away or told you to get off, but no. His hands went instantly to support your hips, and you were even more irked.

“Why?”

He opened his eyes and the stiffness was back to his pleasant features. That had you pouting with tears in your eyes. Maybe you could figure out why, but you didn’t care — you leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently. He brought you there, and he wasn’t rejecting you. It was time he made a decision.

“Why push me away?” You insisted, letting your nail graze his sweet cheek gently. He recognized that tone in your voice, and that was why he answered.

“I was about to cum.”

“So?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes only hardened, and you looked down at his erect cock between you. There were so many things you could say, and so many paths to choose from. You could get angry, whiny, blow him anyway, ride him, and you considered every option. But you kept reverting to that anger behind those beautiful dark eyes. And as you both faced each other, you knew why he was mad — because you hurt him the year before. Because what you were doing was maybe a source of conflict, it sure could have been for you as well if you didn’t still…

Well.

Your expression softened as you pressed your lips to his forehead, “Take it out on me.”

He didn’t move or respond, and you just dragged your lips soothingly over his skin in small peppered kisses.

“Please,” you whispered. “Take it all out on me. I want you to.” You dragged your nails up his neck, and he leaned his head forward. “I need you to.”

His hands gripped your waist as he seemed to hide in your chest, and you sat closer to him. You petted his beautifully longer hair, still, and sighed when he pressed your lower back to keep you close. You smiled and kissed his head, taking that as a yes. So you waited like that until he decided how he would do it.

Your answer came when he glued his mouth to your chest and started nibbling down until he caught a nipple. You didn’t hide your sigh — he was a tits kind of guy, and he always loved yours, worshiping them in every sense of the word. And you had always loved him for it, and for the way he could leave you a moaning mess with his attention exclusively there.

So you hissed and sighed, with his mouth, tongue, and teeth driving you insane. To return the favor, you reached down in between your bodies and found his rock-hard dick. Your spit hadn’t dried yet, so you jerked him off gently through your pitched moans.

You could feel him twitching in your hand. You knew he loved your tits and got lost in licking and biting them. You knew he got crazy when you played with him at the same time, playing with his weakness while truthfully wanting nothing more than for him to play with all of you.

So you leaned down by his ear. “Come on,” you whispered in a low tone. “Take it out on me. Do it.” You gripped him a bit harder, earning a stronger bite from him that had you instantly hissing and clenching around nothing. “I want to feel you.” Your hand never stopped, and he seemed to be listening to you — only his tongue was moving. “Hard. Deep. Fuck it all out on me.”

You buried your nose in his hair and waited, never stopping your hand on him. You preferred if he fucked you senseless, but even jerking him off would be nice if that was his mood.

But you doubted it was, and indeed, it wasn’t. He let go of your abused nipple and faced you for a second. He didn’t comment on anything you said, he only grabbed you firmly by the hips and stood up, taking you with him.

You gasped mutely and hugged him strongly, only to realize that he was carrying you without an ounce of effort. He was truly stronger, which could mean he would fuck you harder—

He dropped you on his bed, making you whimper, and your tits bounce around, then he moved away. You sat up, worried about him just leaving, but then you tilted your head. He was adjusting a full-body mirror that was purposefully facing another wall to show the bed. You saw your reflection on it and mused over why he had that mirror set like that and took the time to change it.

He neared you while rolling a condom, and you looked at him, breath slowing with the perspective of what would happen now. He traced a hand down your hip, and you laid back, but he immediately gripped both your sides and turned you around. You puffed, half annoyed, half melting at being handled like that, and got on all fours for him. You thought he’d toy with you and you’d patiently wait for what you wanted most, but he didn’t. He instantly put his cock at your entrance, and you groaned, gripping the sheets with the desire burning through you.

“You want it?” His tone was quiet but sure, almost cold. His hand struck your ass, but you only gave him a gentle moan. “Get it then.”

You bit your lip and moved back, opening your mouth with the familiar stretch that had you curling your toes. You went slowly, thankful for his resistance that allowed his cock to brave more and more, inch by inch, until you were full. You knew he wasn’t totally in, and he reminded you by jerking his hips once until he bottomed out. You gave him a little whine and he chuckled.

“There. Didn’t think you had forgotten how I fucked you earlier, but I’ll remind you.”

He snapped his hips into yours, and you knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but you didn’t care. He was doing what you asked, finally connected to you, giving you the pleasure of your dreams. It didn’t matter if he was treating you roughly, you asked for it. You wanted it, you needed it. Him, his anger, anything he would give you.

“Look at you,” he grunted before gripping your ass better. “I haven’t even started.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head to face him through the mirror. You gave zero fucks about how vulnerable you were, needy, greedy, whimpering, and begging for more even though you knew how much more could come. No, you looked at him. At his focused expression, telling you this wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. At his flexed abs, tense thighs, and buff biceps. At his hand on your ass, squeezing. At his eyes moving from yours to verify your position — not only if you looked good, but at your knees and elbows sliding. For your comfort. It had to be, right?

You were tucked in his grip, so when he went harder, you had nowhere to go. You took his hips slapping against you and moaned loudly, abandoned to the feeling that only he fucking you could tear out of you.

“Can’t take it?” His voice was mocking. “How’s that?” You couldn’t coherently answer. “Are you that desperate for a proper dicking?”

“Wasn’t that what you did before?”

You barely got it out, but he heard you, not stopping for a second. “Clearly wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend must be doing a really sloppy job.”

His voice was tense. You wondered if bitterness was in the mix, but you were too high to think about it.

“No boyfriend. Maybe that’s the problem.”

His hand struck your ass so hard, you whimpered a cry. But in a second, he was rubbing that area and gripping you closer, fucking you harder. It made you see stars, and you couldn’t get enough.

“So whiny,” he grunted, “so needy.”

You scoffed. He was the one fucking you as hard as possible.

“Do you always moan like that?” You felt his nails on your ass cheeks. “Any cock can get that noise out of you.”

You grinned, “No, only yours can.” You expected another slap, but it didn’t come. “Never met anyone who can fuck me like you.”

He smacked the other ass cheek harshly and gripped you so hard that the constant hit of his cock deep inside you almost short-circuited your brain.

“But you searched.”

He was speaking between gritted teeth, but you were in no condition to notice. “So did you. Fucked how many right here, on this bed?”

He smacked your ass again, but looking through the mirror, you could see he wasn’t just angry now. His eyes were closed as if in pain. But you were too riled up to stop.

“Looking for what? Any thigh cunt?” He was getting sloppy, and you couldn’t shut up. “Or did you really think anyone else could get you this desperate?” You fucked yourself on his cock against his rhythm, and you could swear he growled. But who cared, he was snapping his hips to yours again. “Why so quiet?” His hand striking your ass had you arching for him, but not quieting down. “Tell me. Do you cream yourself this easily with—”

He pulled your hair, forcing your back to arch and take him deeper. Your mouth opened, instantly melting in ways only he could cause, until you shivered when you felt him near your ear.

“No.” You opened your eyes in his silence to find him looking at you through the mirror. If your opened mouth spelled how deep he was buried inside you, then his eyes told of how desperate he was. “Only you do this to me. Only you drive me this fucking crazy.”

He connected his nose to your shoulder despite ramming into you wildly, and grunted together with you. You couldn’t stifle your moans, your curses, or your prayers. But you yelped when suddenly he let you go and rolled you over. He got between your legs and immediately slid inside, earning a sigh from you and a plea.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders and leaned down over you, seeing your eyes widen. You extended your hands, what for you weren’t certain, but he grabbed them and pressed them to the mattress on either side of your head.

His hips restarted their rocking and you moaned desperately. You squirmed, and moaned, and said his name, and begged, and squeezed his hands, and all the while he never stopped fucking you. He was sweating, it was dripping over you, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered was that he was as deep as possible inside you, torturing you with how good it felt, and you were there for it. Loving every moment.

“Fuck— You’re so deep—”

“You like it?”

His tone was gentle, almost as if he wished for nothing but to please you. You were lost. You wished for nothing else but him.

“Yes— Yes—”

You were desperate, at the edge of your emotions with tears in your eyes, and he saw it. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” Your answer was instantaneous, at the end of a moan. “You, fuck, please, you, just you—”

“I’m here.”

You gripped his hands and anxiety crossed your features for a moment, “Please.”

He kissed you, relenting his rhythm, only to whisper to your lips, “I’m here, bubbles.”

You opened your teary eyes to look at him, and your heart shook. His eyes were sweet despite the pleasure and effort mingling in his features. He was looking at you, really looking, really seeing you, and he was there. He wasn’t taking it out on you anymore, he was really with you, like he once was.

You didn’t want to delude yourself, but the way he continued, staying close to your face to peck your lips and your cheeks, was swelling your heart too much to be contained. You moved with him, lulled by that movement you longed for too long. That thought alone got you on the right tangent, and you made sure to tell him through moans, looks, and your hands in his. He nuzzled you, sweat dripping down, and answered every plea and moan with signs of his own pleasure.

You let it grow inside you until you knew you couldn’t be contained, and neither did you want it to. You opened your mouth to tell him and nothing came out, but he got it.

“Cum with me.”

He grunted his words before kissing you, and you whimpered and moaned your overwhelming pleasure without breaking away. He groaned into your mouth and pressed your lips firmly when you were both done, panting, sweaty, and spent.

You didn’t think about what would happen after that; truthfully, you wished time would stop. For a moment you believed it could be true — he stayed inside you with his mouth on your neck, just suckling as you enjoyed his weight over you. You were drifting away, so utterly relaxed, happy, and fulfilled.

Until he pulled away and your heart cracked.

You couldn’t open your eyes immediately, you weren’t ready to face it again, not after the way you were just together. But when you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised.

Jungkook looked tired and sleepy, but that was it. He was extending his hand for you and you grabbed it. He pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pointing at the toilet and turning to handle the condom. You peed, but your mind latched onto nothing, you didn’t want to ruin that bliss.

He took your hand again and pulled you back to bed, opening the sheets before pushing you gently with an arm around your waist. You sighed and leaned back into him. He held you into his chest as he covered you both with a sheet, and you could swear that it was all a dream. All of it.

[Next part>]

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smileysuh · 2 years ago

Text

ice cold, cabin fever - part 1

🌙 staring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."

cw/ tw. threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, I petnames. (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 25.9k

🍭 aus. e2l, s2l, step brothers Jihan, non idol, ski resort, roomies, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. so when I tell you I know practically nothing about skiing... also, the recent soop episodes have been giving gyucheol and jihan and I'm dying. I other inspo: 🙂 🙂 🙂 I pls note. this fic has so much dialogue, it exceeds the number of paragraphs allowed in a tumblr post, so it will be split into 2 parts posted at the same time I read the whole thing in one post + the bonus by subscribing to my patreon and clicking here

Prologue:

“You guys aren’t going to believe this,” Jeonghan says as he enters the main area of the flat he shares with his brother and two best friends.

Three sets of eyes turn to him, and it’s Joshua who takes a shot in the dark and asks, “Did you get chlamydia again?”

“Aish, fuck off,” Jeonghan picks up a pillow to launch at his brother, “I just got off the phone with mom you idiot.”

“Ouch, since when are you telling mommy about your STI results?” Seungcheol teases, earning himself a pillow as well, that he easily bats out of the air.

“Tell us,” Mingyu urges seriously, “what did your mom say?”

“Only that our new step-sister decided to join us for the destination wedding, super last minute,” Jeonghan explains, taking a seat next to the youngest and sweetest of his friends.

“Did your mom tell her that they already gave up the cabin?” Seungcheol’s heart drops to his stomach, thoughts of powdered snow and skiing swirling on the periphery of his mind.

“Fuck if I know,” Jeonghan shrugs. “She sounds like a bit of a bitch if I’m being honest- sorry Gyu, but it looks like you’ll be giving up your bed.”

“We’re sharing a cabin with her?” The maknae’s jaw drops.

“Well she’s definitely not staying with us,” Joshua stiffens in his seat, “I don’t know what weird step-sibling porn you’re into Gyu, but we’re not that kind of family.”

“Listen,” Seungcheol leans forward, eager to keep the peace, “none of us have met her before- but your mom really likes her dad- let’s just hope she’s as nice as he is… I really doubt she’s a bitch. If it comes down to it, I can give up my bed, there’s a pullout in the cabin too, right? We’ll make it work.”

The glances all four men exchange betray how unsure they all are, and Seungcheol only wishes he was as positive as he makes himself out to be.

1: Thursday - Arrival

“Y/n! You made it!” your dad’s excitement should be contagious, but as you haul your suitcase into the lobby of the ski resort, you’re much too exhausted to mirror his attitude.

In fact, you’d bet you look exactly how you feel; done with this vacation before it’s even started.

Despite this, you accept the hug from your dad, trying to relax a little before he lets you go again. “Was your flight very long?”

“Too long,” you sigh, taking a deep breath before returning his question with “and you?”

“Too long,” your dad laughs. “But you can rest easy now, the hard part is over.”

Is it?

“I’m so excited for you to meet Suelki,” he continues, “and her two sons.”

“I’m excited too,” you really force a smile this time, trying your best to look sincere.

“Good,” your dad nods, beginning to lead you through the resort. “So listen, this trip is kind of like my honeymoon- so we really don’t expect to be seeing that much of you- Suelki and I have a suite in the actual hotel itself, but I think I mentioned to you over the phone that we booked two of the rustic cabins-”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” your grip on your suitcase handle tightens.

“Because you originally said you wouldn’t be coming, we gave the second cabin up to Suelki’s boys’ roommates- and unfortunately, the entire resort is booked up this week, so we couldn’t get you your own room.”

“Right-” He’d mentioned something along these lines during your quick phonecall when you’d changed your mind about coming on the trip, and you’re eager to see what fix he has for this.

“Each cabin had a pullout though, so you’ll be staying in one of them, and whether it’s with Suelki’s boys’ or their friends, I really hope you use this trip to get to know your new step brothers.”

Your mouth feels dry, heart jittering in your chest at the concept of sharing a cabin for a week with two boys-

“The wedding is on Saturday,” your dad and you have reached a door leading outside; icy air hits your face when he opens it. “And the cabins you’re looking for are the last two down this road here- cabin 6 and cabin 7. Just follow the string lights-”

“Are you-” you swallow. “You’re not going to take me out to where I’m staying?” You tighten your grip on your heavy luggage, eying the snowy path.

“Sorry darling, but your plane was late, and you’ve arrived at a bad time- Suelki and I have massages scheduled in-” he checks his watch, “ten minutes? I really have to go- but you’re a strong, capable girl, you’ll find the cabins no problem.”

This is exactly the type of behaviour from your father that you’re used to.

Part of you had expected something to be different- you’d been hoping that the wedding jitters would make him more inclined to be compassionate to you- but it looks like he’s as intent on letting you go about it yourself as he’s ever been.

After your long flight, and now this- you’re really questioning if you should have come on this trip at all.

2: Thursday - Arrival

“Joshie, come look at this,” Jeonghan urges, holding his tea tighter while gazing out the small cabin window.

“What is it?” his brother sighs, putting down his book but remaining seated on the couch.

“Some girl is dragging her suitcase up the path.”

He can’t help but snicker. With the road covered in snow for the winter season, accessing the cabins isn’t the easiest task in the world.

Having been here before, the brothers had packed accordingly, and carrying their duffles had been substantially easier than the struggle Jeonghan is currently witnessing.

“Oh shit.”

“What?” Now Joshua stands up.

“She’s coming to the door- shit-” Jeonghan pulls away from the window roughly, and hot liquid spills over the edge of his mug, making contact with his fingers. “Shit!” he shakes his hand out-

“Must be the step sister?” Joshua suggests, ignoring the elder man tending to his reddening skin.

“Must be,” Jeonghan hisses, putting his tea down just as there’s a knock on the door.

The elder of the two takes a seat on the couch, pulling his hoodie sleeve down to cover his hand while Joshua answers the door.

“Hi-” your voice carries into the small space, and Jeonghan silently urges Joshua to move to the side so he can get a better look at you. “Are you Jeonghan?”

“No, Joshua,” he shifts, allowing you to see into the cabin, “that’s Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan lifts his unharmed hand, wiggling his fingers at you and offering a smile.

His eyes quickly take you in, assessing your cute outfit- and its lack of weather appropriateness. He finds himself stifling a laugh again, shaking his head to snap himself out of it before saying loudly, “Aren’t you going to let our new step-sister in?”

You look like a bunny entering a wolf’s den, and you stop just past the threshold, allowing the door to be closed behind you.

“I guess you guys know about the cabin situation?” Your first words aren’t something Jeonghan had particularly expected from you-

You’re much more forward than your appearance gives you credit for, and he begins to wonder if his little bunny has teeth.

“Cabin situation?” Joshua comes to join Jeonghan on the couch, reaching for his book.

“Yeah-” you swallow, “I heard my cabin got given up to two of your friends?”

“Right, that cabin situation,” Jeonghan and Joshua exchange glances, and they leave space for you to continue.

“I was thinking,” you shift awkwardly on your feet, a chunk of snow shifts off your boot and onto the wood floor, “uh- you guys aren’t really going to make me share a cabin with two of your friends, right?”

“What do you mean?” Joshua cocks his head, and Jeonghan leans back in his seat, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him.

“Just that-” you release a deep sigh. “Guys- I’m going to be honest, I’m really tired- is there no possible way one or even both of your friends could- I don’t know… crash in this cabin with you guys?”- there’s a beat of silence, Jeonghan and Joshua exchange glances - “like, that’s a pullout couch, right? So- at least one could stay here-”

Joshua opens his mouth to respond, but Jeonghan places a hand on his knee to silence him, taking the lead in these new family negotiations; “You might be able to convince one of them to stay here,” he tells you, “but I doubt you’d be more comfortable alone with a strange man you’ve never met, than you would be having two.”

“I mean…” you look between your new step-siblings, “these guys are your friends, right? It’s not like they’re going to- erm… try anything?”

“You’re right,” Jeonghan nods sympathetically, “let’s go over there and you can see which one you prefer to spend a week alone with.”

You shift again, releasing a groan. “I know we just met- but I’ve gotta say, you’re a bit of an asshole, you know that?”

Jeonghan laughs.

“He’s right though,” Joshua sighs. “As unfortunate as it is that your cabin got given up, there’s no chance both of our friends are going to give up their beds to sleep on a pullout in here with us.” He stands up. “I saw you were struggling with your bag earlier- I’ll carry it for you, we can go to the next cabin over and discuss the situation with Cheol and Mingyu-”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you open the door, holding your suitcase tightly, “I’m a big girl, I’ll handle this myself.”

The new brothers watch you leave the cabin, and then Joshua heads to the window, eyes following you as you trudge down the path back to the main road again.

“Is she still struggling?” Jeonghan asks.

Joshua lets out something between a laugh and a sigh, then he nods. “She’s really struggling.”

3: Thursday - Arrival

“Is that your stomach growling?” Cheol groans, distracted from the Christmas film he’s watching for what must be the third time-

“I’m sorry-” Mingyu whines, hand rubbing his tummy in slow circles, “you know how I get when we go skiing-”

“Then eat more at dinner next time,” the elder man snaps, grabbing the remote to turn the sound up in the hopes it will drown out his friend’s stomach, “and make some ramen or something.”

“I’m too lazy, I can’t get up,” the large man sprawled on the couch groans, his voice switching to something more on the girly side when he says “oppa, make me ramen? We can have Netflix and ramen?”

“Aish-” Seungcheol reaches out to bat his friend’s foot.

Mingyu is the baby of their apartment back home, and all three of the men born in 95 try not to make a habit of indulging him in maknae privileges. In fact, Mingyu often ends up being the one who cooks and cleans, but Seungcheol will never admit that to anyone.

“Stop complaining and watch your movie,” Seungcheol urges, eyes returning to the screen, where Jim Carrey’s Grinch is having a similar meltdown to Mingyu’s.

A knock at the door stuns both men, their heads whipping towards the sound- then Mingyu is jumping off the couch, as if he wasn’t just claiming to be a lazy bum less than a minute ago.

“Who is it?” Cheol groans, leaning back against the pillows, stretching his tired arms out in front of him.

He’s never going to get through this movie if there keeps being distractions-

“Shh- it’s a girl-” Mingyu’s whispered response is another shock to Cheol’s system, and he suddenly finds himself sitting up in his seat.

“Well, answer the door!” he whispers back.

Mingyu follows through with the command, and a moment later he’s greeting you with a “Hello?”

“Uh, hi? Are you… Cheol?”

“No,” Mingyu steps to the side, “he is.”

Seungcheol blinks at you, taking you in.

He’s definitely never met you before, so how is it you know his name-

How is it you know the name that only his friends use?

“Then that makes you… Mingyu?”

You’re not even looking at Seungcheol anymore, your eyes have slipped over him and returned to the large man in front of you faster than Cheol can even clock-

“That’s right,” Mingyu nods, then, “wait! You must be the step-sister!”

“That’s me,” you sigh. “The step-sister.”

“Come in,” Mingyu urges you, “and let me take your bag, I bet you’re tired from your flight-”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, setting the remote down. It’s unlikely he’ll be returning to the movie anytime soon, and he supposes he should be friendly with you- despite his exhaustion from a long day on the slopes.

“Did you drag your suitcase all the way through the snow?” Mingyu asks, blatantly bewildered at your behavior.

“Uh huh,” you nod, closing the door behind you and reaching down to take off your boots.

“No one helped you?” Mingyu’s tone makes the whole thing seem like blasphemy, and Cheol watches the way he fusses over you, setting your bag at the foot of his bed before rushing to help you take off your jacket-

“No one,” you confirm. “Joshua offered, but- I managed by myself, like always.”

“So you stopped at the other cabin first?” Seungcheol confirms, “Met Hannie and Josh-”

Your eyes meet, and then Seungcheol finds himself looking at your lips-

“Yeah,” you tear your gaze away, turning to Mingyu when you explain, “wanted to talk with them about bed arrangements first-”

“You can have mine,” Mingyu offers, flashing you an earnest smile.

“Really?” your eyes widen, and you look between the two men again. “You’re not uh… too big for it?”

Seungcheol feels like he’s been hit in the chest.

If you’d had asked your question without looking directly at him, he might have been able to convince himself you weren’t insinuating anything- but it’s clear what you’re saying. It’s clear you’re clocking him as being smaller than his younger friend, clear you’re inadvertantly suggesting that as the shorter man - Cheol - should sleep on the couch.

A month ago, Cheol had suggested the very same thing, thinking you’d be some nice girl he could give his bed to.

But now?

He wouldn’t give you his bed if your life depended on it.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu is quick to assure you, “you can have my bed. Here, have a seat, we’re watching a Christmas movie- did your flight serve you dinner? Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” you sigh, collapsing onto the couch, taking the corner Mingyu had inhabited earlier.

“I’ll make us some ramen,” Mingyu tells you. “Ramen always goes well with Christmas movies.”

Seungcheol notes the way you smile at Mingyu’s words.

He feels invisible, and most of all, bitter. He’s not happy about any of this, not the way you’d taken a hit at his pride, nor Mingyu’s new burst of energy and overly friendly demeanor.

Picking up the remote again, Seungcheol hits play, and he hopes nothing else sets him off tonight, or he just might explode.

4: Friday - morning

Waking up is slow at first, and then it hits you all at once. You sit up, clutching the quilt to cover your body while blinking away the last of your drowsiness, eyes acclimatizing to the soft glow of the room.

Sunlight is coming through the cabin shades, and you realize two things very quickly. First, that you’re alone, and second, that you’re not where you’d fallen asleep last night.

After settling in and eating your ramen, you’d gotten comfortable on the couch. The movie hadn’t truly captured your interest, and you’d begun to doze off with the intention of waking up when the film was complete to move to the bed-

But you have no recollection of being woken up.

You hadn’t even had any dreams. You’d been so exhausted from a day of traveling that you’d blacked out, and now, you’re left with confusion and body aches.

Someone must have carried you to bed-

You hope it was Mingyu.

When you look down, you see you’re still dressed in your travel outfit, so the first thing you decide to do is explore the small cabin and find the shower.

Part of you is grateful the men you’re rooming with allowed you to sleep. It makes finding a routine easier. You take your time in the shower, allowing yourself to relax a little, and you consider what your day might look like.

You guess the men are on the slopes, as the skis that had been propped next to the door when you’d arrived are gone, and you decide exercise might be exactly what you need.

Besides, you’re at a ski resort, skiing seems like an obvious choice- although you’re not quite sure how it will work, seeing as you haven’t brought your own equipment-

You begin looking around the cabin for a resort map- and you’re so busy looking in all the hard places you almost miss the glaringly obvious piece of paper resting on the coffee table under a set of keys.

Your heart lurches in your chest. You pocket the keys and open the paper to find it’s the resort pamphlet you’ve been searching for.

Along with a map of the mountain, someone has taken the time to circle cabin 7, draw a line to the main hotel, and circled another section, which has been labeled ‘ski rentals’ in handwriting that’s just barely legible.

There’s no other writing to indicate which man has left this for you, so you decide to assume it’s Mingyu.

Cheol had barely talked to you last night. He’d given off cold vibes; a man with walls built up around him.

You truly can’t imagine that the quiet, brooding man had stopped to write on a map and leave you keys.

And honestly? You don’t want to imagine it.

It’s much safer to identify one of your roommates as a tall, white knight, and the other as a dark entity you’ll have to suffer through for a week.

It makes it easier to plan on ignoring Cheol.

5: Friday - afternoon

Today is a good day for Seungcheol.

He’d been worried that your arrival would mean babysitting duty, so when you’d slept in and he’d convinced Gyu to leave you be, he’d been nearly ecstatic.

He’d clocked you as a non-skier the moment you’d arrived without the correct equipment, and despite his day job as a physical trainer, Cheol is not in the mood to be teaching anyone how to do anything.

No, he’s much happier taking the slopes with his best friend.

Mingyu isn’t as adept with skis as Cheol is, but he’s good enough for the elder not to worry too much about him.

After tackling a few of the harder slopes, the two men find themselves on a green run.

It’s enjoyable to take the hill in an easy manner, crisscrossing down the incline, watching the powder fluff up and take air with each harsh turn-

The day is gorgeous-

And then Cheol spots you, and his mood drops instantly.

You’re a couple hundred feet down the mountain from he and Mingyu, and they both stop for a moment, battling the glare from the sun-

“Is that-”

“Y/n,” Seungcheol confirms with a sigh. “First the thing with her bags, now this- it’s like she’s never been to a ski resort before.”

“Maybe she hasn’t,” Mingyu cocks his head to the side, looking thoughtful for a moment. “We should go help her.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “You really think she wants our help?”

“It never hurts to offer,” the younger, more considerate man points out. “Besides, this is Jeonghan and Joshua’s new step-sister, we’re trying to be nice to her, right?”

With a sigh, Seungcheol agrees, and the two continue down the mountain, catching up to you easily.

“Hello!” Mingyu calls out to you, in classic extroverted Mingyu fashion. This earns him a smile from you, and you stop your slow slope descent to chat.

“Hi Mingyu,” you say, pushing your hair out of your face and adjusting your hat.

You don’t say hello to Seungcheol, and he doesn’t greet you either.

“How’s your day going so far?” Mingyu asks. “Are you enjoying the fresh air?”

“Yeah- found some skis at the rental and I think I’m getting the hang of it,” you tell them, “wasn’t sure I’d be skiing much this trip but, well, here I am.”

“You slept in,” Seungcheol finds himself stating. “We weren’t sure we’d bump into you today.”

“Right…” you trail off, giving Seungcheol a quick once over before your eyes return to Mingyu, and an easy smile works its way across your face again, “Have you been skiing long? I mean, I get the feeling that I’m the only person on the trip who doesn’t have much experience with all of this- you guys all brought your own skis.”

“Yeah, we’re all big snow sports people,” Mingyu tells you. “Seungcheol was actually almost an olympic level snowboarder-”

“Really?” Now you’re looking at Seungcheol. Truly looking at him. “But… you brought skis?”

“He’d be much too fast on his board,” Mingyu grins. “Skis slow him down, make him level with the rest of us. But, he’s still pretty good at skiing too.”

“Could give you a few pointers if you want,” Seungcheol says, earnestly.

He’d gotten a good look at what you were doing wrong before they approached you, and a few minor tweaks would have you skiing with the best of them-

“Erm, thanks, but no thanks, I think I’m good learning at my own pace for now.”

He notes the way you avert your eyes, upper lip curling slightly with disdain.

He should have never bothered to offer you help.

Seungcheol takes a deep breath. “You two are probably more compatible for your level, and I want to do some harder runs. I’ll see you around.”

And with that, he leaves you and Mingyu, taking off down the mountain at a speed his friends can only dream of.

6: Friday - evening

It’s been a good day for Mingyu, and settling in for dinner with his friends is the perfect ending for it. They order half the menu, covering the table in all sorts of foods to try together, and it reminds him of their time in university.

While Mingyu is younger than his friends, he’d entered their frat before they’d graduated, and the bond he has with his older hyungs is truly one born out of a shared love for food.

“Try this,” Jeonghan insists, and Mingyu opens his mouth before he even gets a good look at what’s about to be fed to him. “It’s good right?”

Mingyu can only nod happily while munching, hand reaching for his beer.

“Where were you guys today?” Joshua asks, “we missed you on the slopes.”

“Did a couple of the harder ones,” Seungcheol responds while the maknae has his mouth full, “then bumped into your step-sister on the easier hill-”

“Oh?” This grabs both Jeonghan and Joshua’s attention. “She was skiing?”

“Badly,” Cheol leans back in his chair, sipping his beer.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Mingyu insists, swallowing his food so he can defend you. “I did a couple runs with her and she wasn’t that bad, really.”

The brothers exchange a glance that Mingyu can’t read.

He’s always been jealous of how in tune Jeonghan and Joshua are. As ‘irish twins’ - siblings born within the same year - it’s like they can read each other’s minds, and Mingyu always feels like he’s missing some crucial part of the conversation.

“Did you guys sort out the bed situation?” Joshua asks, looking down at the steak he’s cutting. He gives off an air of nonchalance, but Mingyu can tell that this is a topic both brothers are interested in.

“I think you mentioned giving up your bed when we talked about it a few months ago,” Jeonghan adds, “isn’t that right, Cheol?”

“That was before I met her.”

The brothers exchange a glance, and a smirk works its way onto Jeonghan’s face. “Looks like Gyu got the short end of the straw, huh?”

“I offered her my bed,” Mingyu insists.

“But she fell asleep on the couch during our Christmas movie,” Seungcheol says smoothly. “I moved her to his bed, wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy.”

“My neck is aching,” Mingyu groans, rubbing at it, “but it was worth it. I told her she could have my bed, so she had my bed.”

“He’s so eager to help her out,” Cheol teases, pushing at Mingyu’s shoulder. “When we saw her on the mountain earlier, she refused my help, but was more than happy to ski with him.”

Joshua and Jeonghan exchange a glance that has Mingyu rushing to assure them, “she’s your new step sister- I’m not trying anything, I just want to be friendly-”

“What was that?” Cheol leans closer, “I don’t think I heard you?”

“I said,” Mingyu raises his voice, “she’s their stepsister, and I’m not trying anything!”

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I thought I heard,” Seungcheol grins, and then he’s looking at something over Mingyu’s shoulder. “Hey Y/N, you should join these three for dinner.”

“Uh…”

Mingyu turns to find you standing there, and his skin heats with embarrassment.

He’s pretty sure you’d just heard what he’d loudly said to his friends, and his skin tingles with regret, ears heating-

“Really,” Seungcheol stands, “take my seat, I was just leaving.”

“Where are you headed?” Jeonghan asks, more curious about his friend than his own step-sister.

“The pool.” Cheol grabs the jacket on the back of his chair. “Have some knots in my back, but nothing the hot tub jets can’t fix.”

For the second time today, Mingyu finds himself watching Cheol make a hasty retreat in order to avoid spending time with you. And for the second time today, Mingyu finds himself eagerly attempting to help you fit in, despite his oldest friend’s rejection of you.

“Come eat,” Mingyu urges, patting the newly empty seat next to him.

“Are you guys sure? I can always eat alone-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Joshua laughs. “You’re one of us now, come sit.”

Mingyu is glad that your step brothers immediately start asking you questions, and for a little while, everything runs smoothly.

Every minute he spends with you, he warms up more and more to your presence.

It’s obvious to him that yesterday, when you’d arrived, you’d been out of sorts after hours of traveling. Your temperament has improved drastically, and Mingyu finds himself laughing along with his friends at small jokes you make here and there.

The four of you spend a much longer time in the resort restaurant than Mingyu had expected, and it’s only when Jeonghan begins to yawn that you all decide it’s time to head back to your cabins.

The night is cold, but it’s not snowing, and your small group follows the poles of string lights diligently.

Jeonghan and Joshua pull off one stop earlier than your own, wishing you goodnight before heading into their cabin.

As you and Mingyu continue up the path, Mingyu finds you walking closer to him, and he’s surprised when you say “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Carrying me to bed last night,” you respond, “and the map you left on the coffee table, the one with the ski rental circled.”

“Oh, uh…” Mingyu swallows thickly, “that actually wasn’t me. I think it’s Cheol who you have to be thanking.”

“Oh…”

‘Oh’ is right.

7: Saturday - morning

When you wake up, you’re struck by two things. First, that you’re alone, as you were when you woke up yesterday. And second, that your father is getting married.

Your body aches when you sit up, muscles screaming at you for having the audacity to ski as long as you had with Mingyu, and you decide pretty quick that another attempt at the slopes is off the table.

You remember what Seungcheol had said yesterday, about the pool and the hott ub, and decide maybe he had the right idea about jets and sore muscles.

He can be an ass, but you suppose he uses his brain sometimes.

You change into your swimsuit, and make sure to layer yourself with comfy sweats and your parka, pool bag in hand before you set out to take on the weather.

For the billionth time since arriving at this God forsaken cabin, you wish you’d gotten a room in the resort itself. It’s snowed over the night, but the path is somewhat cleared. Even so, the trek to the main hotel is difficult, and your muscles are even more tired when you arrive.

The resort is a ski destination, and you cross your fingers that most of its patrons are on the hills and not utilizing the various pools and saunas.

Your wish comes true, and you’re pleased to see hardly anyone as you pass through the indoor pool to check out the outdoor areas, intent on having a hot tub to yourself-

As you’re walking along the pool deck, clutching your parka tight around your body, you notice someone swimming.

He’s underwater, slicing through the pool like a professional swimmer. The glare from the overcast sky makes it impossible to get a great look at the athlete and you settle next to the hot tub, hoping to see more when he comes up for air.

You’ve just taken off your parka and are wading into the hot tub when the swimmer stops at the edge of the pool. He’s in the shallows now, and he’s able to stand up, his back to you.

Droplets of water glisten down his back in the light, steam immediately beginning to lift off of his skin-

His shoulders and back look like they were crafted by the Gods, and the man runs a hand through his hair, shaking it out of his face.

You just wish he would turn to look at you, so you can see who you’re drooling over-

In no time at all, this wish is coming true, only, you wish it hadn’t, because the moment the gorgeous, well-muscled athlete turns to look at you, you’re locking eyes with your least favourite person on the mountain.

Seungcheol is as taken aback as you are for a moment.

He’d been reaching for the rail to pull himself out of the pool, but now, he’s simply frozen.

You’re practically gawking at each other, and you’re the first to break eye contact, clearing your throat and looking away.

You can feel your skin heating, and it’s not just from the hot tub, which you wish you could simply submerge yourself in and never come back up-

In the periphery of your vision, you see Seungcheol getting out of the pool, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your entire body not to turn and watch him.

Then, to your surprise, he gives you an excuse to look at him, calling out, “The wedding starts at four, don’t be late.”

Your jaw hits the hottub floor, and you watch Seungcheol practically run away from you.

It’s becoming an all too familiar sight.

8: Saturday - afternoon

Sitting in his mother’s hotel room, watching her do the final touches on her wedding look, Joshua is struck with memories of the past.

There’d been many mornings growing up where he’d sat on the closed-lid toilet, watching her brush through her hair, sometimes braiding it, before taking him and Jeonghan to school.

In the quiet of their small apartment bathroom, nothing could come between them, not Jeonghan whining for whatever reason, nor the angry father who’d disappeared from the picture when the boys had turned ten.

To Joshua, the moment feels like peace, or at least, as close to it as he’s ever come.

He can tell, by the way his mom smiles when she looks at herself in the mirror, that she’s truly happy, and it’s all he’s ever wanted for her.

The moment is fleeting, as Jeonghan enters the room and brings with him a certain level of chaos, the kind of windswept mayhem that follows him everywhere, like a moving storm.

“Booze?” The first word to come out of his mouth.

“In the fridge,” Joshua motions to the small cooler before asking his elder brother, “drinking already?”

“Just spent half an hour running all over and making sure everyone’s doing what they’re supposed to be doing,” Jeonghan sighs, bending down to retrieve a can of beer, cracking it open with nimble fingers.

“You wanted to be the best man,” Joshua points out.

For such a small wedding, consisting of only close family and a few friends, roles hadn’t been a necessity, but Joshua wasn’t aware that scrambling around to make sure people are in place would be necessary either.

“Y/N forgot her shoes at the cabin, so Mingyu ran to get them, but by the time he got there, Seungcheol had apparently realized the heels were needed, so he’d grabbed them- and somehow they’d missed each other in the lobby-” Jeonghan cuts off his own ramblings with a large sip of his drink.

“Sounds like quite the goose chase,” their mother’s calm voice visibly settles the best man, who takes a seat next to his brother.

“You look amazing,” Jeonghan tells her, as sincere as Joshua’s ever seen him. “Our new step-sister’s dad is a lucky man.”

“Since when did you stop calling him by his name?” Seulki laughs, returning her gaze to the mirror, fixing her veil. “Looks like you’re both getting used to Y/N though, Joshua mentioned that you all had dinner last night. Is she settling in okay?”

“I think so,” Joshua says thoughtfully.

“Mingyu really likes her,” Jeonghan adds.

Joshua nods. “And we do too.”

Their mom gives them a knowing look. “How’s Seungcheol finding his cabinmate? Haven’t you both always said he’s a good judge of character?”

“He’s also a stubborn ass,” Jeonghan grins over the rim of his drink, “so we can’t really trust his opinions on her- besides, any time she’s around, he runs the other way. I doubt they’ve talked much.”

“That’s a shame,” Seulki frowns. “I bumped into her with Mingyu on the slopes yesterday, she seemed really lovely.”

“She is,” Joshua admits. He’d also enjoyed getting to know you last night over food and drinks.

“Well,” Seulki turns to her boys, “let’s just hope Seungcheol warms up to her, but we’ll put that to the side for now, we have a wedding to get to.”

9: Saturday - evening

The ceremony had gone exactly as planned.

After the initial goose chase looking for your shoes, there’d only been one or two small details Jeonghan had been forced to attend to. But after it all, his mom had walked down the aisle, vows had been said, and Jeonghan had gained a father figure.

Standing at the alter next to his brother, Jeonghan had watched everything take place with a keen eye.

He’d been pleased to see the three couples invited - his aunt and uncle, and two of your father’s friends with their wives - sitting in the small venue with his roommates. And he’d been even more interested in watching his friends react throughout the service.

Mingyu had gotten teary-eyed the moment Seulki had begun her walk down the aisle, and even Seungcheol had torn his gaze from you for long enough to admire the dress.

When everything was said and done, the small party had moved to a secluded room off the main restaurant to have food, drinks and further celebration. Here, Jeonghan had again noticed Seungcheol’s affinity for having you in his line of sight.

“You know,” Jeonghan says, as he settles into the seat next to his brother, eyes fixed on his muscular friend by the small bar, “for a guy who runs away whenever y/n is around, he spends an awful lot of his time watching our step sister.”

Joshua chuckles, sipping his champagne. “You noticed that too, huh?”

“Hard not to,” Jeonghan grins, following Seungcheol’s gaze to where you’re clinging to Mingyu on the makeshift dance floor. “What do you think about those two?”

“I think Cheol better cut his losses now,” Joshua says, setting his drink down.

“Really?” Jeonghan cocks his head, considering it all. “We’re only two days into this trip… a lot could happen before the week is done, don’t you think?”

“A lot could happen,” Joshua admits, “especially if someone like you decided to meddle.”

“I never meddle, only… help push things along.”

“In the direction you want it to go.”

“Touche,” Jeonghan lifts his champagne, gently clinking it against his brother’s discarded glass.

“I think I’m going to go ask y/n to dance,” Joshua says, pushing his chair back and standing.

“Now who’s meddling?” Jeonghan laughs.

“Still only you.”

10: Sunday - morning

The couch had been uncomfortable on a normal night, so Mingyu supposes it’s his own fault that he wakes up aching after a night of drinking and dancing at the wedding.

Stretching his arms over his head, he tries to ease the tight muscles in his shoulders, but he’s unable to get comfortable again.

He lays there for a few minutes, watching you dance in your cute bridesmaid dress on the back of his eyelids. He’s not sure if it’s you, the dress, or the visual combined, but he knows he’s going to remember last night for many years to come.

When he finally sits up, Mingyu looks towards your bed, and he’s not shocked to find you still sleeping. This is the third day waking up in the same room as you, and Mingyu’s becoming accustomed to the fact that you sleep in longer than he does.

He’s becoming accustomed to your cute, unsuspecting, resting face.

It makes sleeping on the couch worth it, and his sore muscles are almost forgotten- until he has to stand up, and they scream at him again.

Cheol is sitting up in his bed, scrolling through his phone, and he looks up when Mingyu stretches his arms above his head to release his shoulder tension.

‘Did you sleep well?’ Cheol mouths at him.

The two have been scared to even whisper in the mornings - scared to wake you up - and have adopted this silent way of communicating. Mingyu nods quickly, pointing back at his hyung as if to say ‘and you?’

Another quick nod, plus a thumbs up, then Cheol makes the motion of a man shoveling food into his mouth and points to the door.

Mingyu holds up his hand, ‘give me five minutes’ and slowly begins to tiptoe to the bathroom, where he can have some water, fix his hair, and change into better clothes.

It’s a routine they’ve gotten used to, and for the third day in a row, Mingyu prays that when he exits the bathroom, by some miracle, you’ll be awake and eager to join them in the resort restaurant for breakfast.

Mingyu and Seungcheol - quite predictably - end up weathering the early morning elements without you, and it’s on the snowy path that Mingyu tells Cheol “I think I’m going to skip skiing today.”

“Really?” Seungcheol’s shock is written all over his face.

Mingyu nods. “I feel bad that we’re always ditching y/n- and we mostly go on the slopes she can’t ski on, so… I figured, after breakfast, I'd stay behind at the cabin and wait till she wakes up, then see what she wants to do today.”

There’s a long pause, and then Seungcheol sighs. “I see how it is.”

“Hmm?”

“You also walked her home last night after the dinner. Hannie, Joshie and I stayed up drinking, you usually join, but instead, you walked y/n home.”

“We were both tired,” Mingyu defends himself. “Watched a bit of a movie, then fell asleep.”

“Is that all that happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… part of me wondered if I should have stayed on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch last night, to give you privacy.”

Mingyu’s heart skips a beat in his chest, and he fumbles with the hood of his parka. “We didn’t- we aren’t-”

“You guys danced a lot last night, then you walked her home… if it’s not like that then… well, people might get the wrong idea.”

“Who’s people?” Mingyu nearly laughs. “It’s just us here- you think anyone really cared last night?”

“I guess not.” There’s a pause, then Seungcheol changes the topic, asking, “What do you think you’ll have for breakfast today?”

It’s then that Mingyu realizes, someone did care last night, and that someone, is Cheol.

11: Sunday - afternoon

You’d been a little shocked to find Mingyu reading on the couch when you’d woken up from your long sleep, but when he’d explained to you that he’d stayed behind from skiing with friends to make sure you had a proper buddy for the day, your heart had melted.

After a slow start, the two of you had decided to rent some snow shoes and use the back slope trails, which is how you end up climbing one of the smaller mountains together.

“We’re almost at the top,” Mingyu tells you, pulling out the trail map provided by the resort. You try to catch your breath while he points to a spot on the paper. “I think we’re about here, so just-” he drags his finger up the green line, “this far to the top.”

“Are you sure?” you laugh, grasping onto his arm to pull yourself closer so you can get a good look at the map.

There’s a pause, then he shakes his head, “No. We could also be sort of lost.”

“Don’t say that-” you grin, pushing at him, “you’ve been mostly using this map alright- I trust you, and your trail-following capabilities.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t though,” Mingyu insists. “Honestly, following maps is definitely Cheol’s thing. One time, we were on a road trip, and we were going down this road for half an hour before we had to pull over and he got to look at the map- we’d missed a turn and it set us back like two hours-”

“It’s easier to miss a highway turn than a trailhead,” you assure him. “Come on, we said we’d climb this small mountain, and then we can take the lift back down and finish our movie from last night at the cabin- just think about our nice, warm cabin-”

“Nice, warm cabin,” Mingyu nods, folding the map back up to put in the pocket of his parka. “Let’s go, we can do this.”

You watch the large, beautiful man pull away from you and continue your trajectory up, and you can’t help but smile, echoing the sentiment, “we can do this.”

12: Sunday - evening

Seungcheol had been surprised to find the cabin empty after skiing, and he’d been even more surprised when he went to the restaurant to find you and Mingyu not there either.

However, he does find Jeonghan, who informs him that he’d seen you and Mingyu getting snow shoes a few hours ago, and Seungcheol’s heart sinks.

There’s a storm coming, and darkness has already begun to settle in across the resort-

He hopes, for both your sakes, that you’re not on the top of the mountain, lost in the trails, when the worst of the winter weather hits.

After waiting diligently for his meal order to come through, Seungcheol ends up trekking back to your cabin with food and firewood in hand just as the snow begins to get heavier.

The last thing he expects when he enters your lodging, is to find you sitting there with a minty green facemask on, and for a second, he stands in the doorway just staring at you.

You break eye contact first, calling out “Cheol’s back!” and a moment later, Mingyu comes out of the bathroom, mid-facemask application.

“Cheol!” Mingyu beams, rubbing the green goo against his cheek, “you’re back from skiing!”

“I was back earlier-” Seungcheol closes the door behind him, “stopped here for a bit but you guys weren’t around.”

“We just got back from a snowshoe hike like, twenty minutes ago?” Mingyu tells him, looking at you for confirmation. Seungcheol watches the way you nod at Mingyu, and his friend lights up. This time, when he says “twenty minutes ago,” he says it with confidence.

“Well, I brought food and firewood,” Seungcheol sighs, kicking off his snow boots and entering the small space.

“Firewood?” You’re looking at him again, and Seungcheol can’t find it within himself to meet your eyes while you’re green in the face like this, so instead, he sets the food down and moves to the small cast iron fireplace in the corner.

“Did you think this cabin heats itself?” The question comes out much snarkier than he’d intended, and he regrets it as he begins to build the fire.

“No- I mean, I noticed it was cold when we got in twenty minutes ago- but I don’t know, I sort of assumed that maybe hotel staff would bring the wood and keep the embers going-”

Seungcheol scoffs. Of course another good deed of his would go unappreciated.

“It’s plausible!” you try to insist.

“I never said anything.”

“You scoffed, you went like-” you mimic the throaty annoyed sound he’d made, “you went like that, a scoff- you scoffed at me!”

“Here’s your dinner,” Seungcheol pushes the bag of takeout towards you across the floor, eyes fixed on the fire he’s still building.

“What if I don’t want your food? What if I want to finish with this mask and go grab food for myself?”

Seungcheol sighs again. “There’s literally a storm coming in- if you go out, you’re going to get windswept away- just eat the food I brought.”

“What if I don’t like the food you brought?” you insist again, and Seungcheol’s getting real tired of your bratty stubbornness.

“You will, it’s what you’ve been eating for two nights in a row.”

This finally gets you to open the bag he’d brought, and you remove the three takeout items, eying them. “How did you know I like this?”

“Like I said- you’ve eaten it two nights in a row.”

“Why were you watching?”

“Oh my god,” Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair. “Just say thank you and eat your fucking food while I make this fire so you don’t freeze to death- why does everything have to be so hard with you?”

There’s a long pause, and he hears the sound of a food container opening.

He’s thankful you’ve finally shut up and are going to eat.

“Even without the fire- this cabin is well insulated enough that we wouldn’t die,” you say after a moment. “The hotel wouldn’t be able to have a cabin where its renters could just die.”

If he hadn’t just lit the fire, Seungcheol might have considered allowing you to test your theory out of spite.

“You always need to have the last word, don’t you, brat?” He stands up, dusting his hands off on his pants before turning to look at you.

You open your mouth to respond- but quickly shrink under his hard gaze.

A moment later, you pick up the remote, and a movie begins to play.

At least in this, Cheol’s gotten the last laugh.

13: Monday - morning

“Fuck-” Jeonghan’s cursing does more to wake Joshua up than the knock at their cabin door had, and the younger irish twin goes to cover his ears while Jeonghan stumbles out of bed.

“Who is it?” Joshua groans, giving in and sitting up, squinting at the door that his brother throws open to reveal their eldest friend.

“Are you two really still sleeping?” Seungcheol pushes into the cabin, throwing his gloves down before gruffly kicking off his boots.

“What time is it?” Jeonghan asks, rubbing at his eyes and groaning before running back to nosedive into his bed.

“Late enough that you should both be awake.”

“Y/n’s not awake,” Jeonghan insists, tucking himself back under the covers, “and I don’t see Mingyu anywhere- why do they get a free pass from your bitching but we don’t?”

“Because they’re not my ski buddies today,” Seungcheol says smoothly. “Seriously, what’s up with you two- and why is it so cold in here?”

They all look towards the castiron fire place, and the emptiness of it gives Joshua a chill that he feels tingling through his entire body.

“We thought we had enough firewood to carry us over from the evening and into the night, so neither of us picked up any dry wood from the hotel yesterday-” Joshua begins to explain.

“Evidently you both ran out,” Cheol concludes, scanning the rest of the small space with his precise, all-knowing, eyes. His gaze lingers on the bottle of fireball on the coffee table. “Instead of running to get more wood, you guys took to drinking, huh?”

“It’s not like we were going to cuddle,” Jeonghan groans.

“So you’re both hung over.”

“Just a little,” Joshua sighs, swinging his legs out of his bed. “Give us half an hour and I can be up.”

“It’s funny,” Cheol says, moving to sit on the couch, “I just had a fight with your step-sister last night about whether we’d freeze to death if we forgot firewood- and at the same time, you guys were over here, resorting to fireball instead of an actual fire-”

“It’s not like we could go out and grab wood once we realized we didn’t have enough,” Jeonghan defends himself. “The storm was really bad.”

“And it’s going to be bad for the next few days,” Seungcheol tells them, “so you better get used to grabbing firewood every evening after dinner.”

Both of his friends groan. “Sure, dad,” Jeonghan buries his head in his pillows. “You know what? If you’re going to be like this, maybe I’ll sleep in and not be your ski buddy today.”

“Mingyu ditched me yesterday, and now you’re ditching me today-” Seungcheol clicks his tongue, “am I really being that much of a dick this vacation?”

It’s Joshua who responds, pointing out, as thoughtfully as he can; “you have been more of a dick than usual.”

To which Seungcheol replies, “Yeah, well, you guys have been pissing me off more than usual.”

Except, Joshua knows it’s not necessarily he and Jeonghan who have been pushing Seungcheol’s buttons this trip- but he keeps that to himself.

14: Monday - afternoon

After skipping out on skiing with his friend and brother, Jeonghan had gotten some much-needed rest. Then, around lunchtime, he’d left his cabin in search of food only to bump into you and Mingyu doing the same thing.

As if that wasn’t coincidence enough, when your odd trio had entered the resort restaurant, you’d found Joshua and Seungcheol midway through their own meals.

Jeonghan had insisted you all join together, fully intending to meddle with you and your cabin mates. After all, he’d just gotten some sleep, and his mischievous mind was eager to stir the pot.

To his disappointment, the seating arrangements make poking people’s buttons difficult- with Cheol all but ignoring you from his vantage point as far from you as possible.

Despite the less-than-ideal format of your table, Jeonghan still finds a way to draw everyone into the conversation when he states, “so I heard there was a fight over cabin temperature last night.”

This earns Jeonghan a rough kick under the table from Cheol, as well as a harsh look from you.

“Who said that?” you ask.

“Cheol did,” Jeonghan smiles through the pain in his shin, and this time, when Cheol goes to kick him, a quick movement of his leg has him narrowly avoiding his friend’s boot. “This morning, when he came to pick of Joshie for skiing.”

“It wasn’t a fight,” you go to insist, but the harsh glare you send Seungcheol’s way has Jeonghan nearly laughing.

“Definitely not a fight,” Mingyu confirms, and Jeonghan almost feels bad for the way he’s sat between you and Seungcheol. A man caught between two stormy personalities ready for a clash.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jeonghan says, “we ran out of wood last night, and we didn’t die.”

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Well, that’s good to know.”

“Y/n was saying last night,” Mingyu adds, “that she doubted we’d die without wood- hotel regulations and everything-”

“Was Cheol insisting you’d die without a fire?” Joshua’s eyes have widened, and he leans in, elbows on the table next to Jeonghan’s food. “Cheol? Really?”

“He was just being dramatic,” you say, and Jeonghan watches the way his friend’s ears turn red at your statement.

“Says the girl who was going to go out in the storm instead of eating the food I brought for her.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, and a muscle feathers in his jaw. He’s glaring at his plate, and a thick tension blankets the table.

Jeonghan loves it.

But then something happens that he couldn’t possibly predict: your parents enter the restaurant, and before he knows it, you’re hopping up to go say hello to Seulki and your father, leaving the men to deal with the unresolved tension.

“Are you trying to start something?” Seungcheol whispers angrily as soon as you’re out of earshot, his angry gaze fixed on Jeonghan.

“Who, me?” Jeonghan touches his chest, pretending to be the most innocent person in the room. “I was just looking for conversation. Besides, we’re the one’s who forgot firewood last night, it’s quite embarrassing for us.”

“You don’t look embarrassed,” Seungcheol notes, sitting back in his chair.

“He has no shame,” Mingyu adds, nodding sympathetically.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Jeonghan’s grin widens, and he looks over Seungcheol’s shoulder to see you leaving the restaurant. “Now that it’s just us, I suppose I should be a good big brother and figure out which one of you intends to fuck my new step-sister.”

Mingyu had been taking a sip of his drink, and now he’s choking, which only adds to Jeonghan’s delight.

“Jeonghan,” Joshua’s harsh warning bounces off the elder brother, whose smile is becoming something akin to the Cheshire Cat’s.

“Neither of us are going for your stupid step-sister,” Seungcheol growls, thumping Mingyu on the back to aid with the water caught in his lungs.

“Oh, so you’re both in denial?” Jeonghan’s eyes widen. “I’d thought at least Mingyu would fess up.”

“Fess up to what?” Mingyu says between coughs. “I’m just being nice to her!”

Jeonghan nods. “Sure you are.”

“Why do you all think I want to fuck your stepsister?!” Mingyu whisper screams at his friends, doing a quick look around the restaurant before adding, “you guys are all horrible.”

“Cheol’s been bugging you about this too, huh?” It’s one of the first things Joshua’s really said, and Jeonghan realizes his brother is right.

“Bet he had a lot to say about the way you danced with our sister at the wedding.”

“Were you all watching that?!” Mingyu’s eyes have widened.

“It was quite the spectacle,” Jeonghan plays with his glass of water. “Cheol was jealous.”

“What!?” This time, when Seungcheol misses Jeonghan’s shin with his foot, the whole table shakes from impact along the underside of it. “Was not! I didn’t even dance with her- how could I be jealous when I never even danced with your stupid sister-”

“Stop calling her stupid,” Joshua’s harsh tone is a surprise to everyone, and the table goes quiet. “Just because you’re in denial about everything doesn’t mean you get to call our new sister stupid.”

“Someone’s taking their older brother role a little seriously-” Seungcheol lets out a whistle.

“Deflect all you want,” Joshua sighs, “Change the topic and make fun of me, but at the end of the day, you’re only making things harder on yourself… both of you.”

For a moment, both Seungcheol and Mingyu are put on the spot, then Seungcheol insists, “We’re not doing anything.”

“And denial is a river in Egypt,” Joshua sighs, shocking the whole table with a pop culture quote- something that’s very unlike him. “Cheol, you’re done eating, let’s leave these two and get a few more runs in before the storm makes skiing impossible.”

15: Monday - evening

Sitting on the floor with your roommates, roasting marshmallows on the fire while the storm rages outside, you find yourself noticing all the small details about them both.

It’s the first night that you’ve actually allowed yourself to take a breath and relax, accepting that, with the extreme weather, there is really nothing else that can be done except to work on enjoying your company.

Mingyu is easy, as you’ve grown accustomed to having him around. You’ve gotten used to his large form, the clumsiness and easy smiles.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, is something you’re newly exploring, sneaking glances at his side profile whenever you think he’s fully distracted in his marshmallow making.

Unlike Mingyu, who thrusts his treat into the fire and watches it burn, Seungcheol is meticulous about his food, preferring a spot where his marshmallow can slowly turn golden near the embers.

He’s got a pretty side profile, and there’s a stubborn set to his jaw when he focuses, eyes fixed on flames that light his face in pretty hues.

His nose is also quite striking, and along with his strong brow, his face is altogether quite attractive, something you’ve been fighting yourself on since the moment you entered the cabin and he’d been cold to you.

There’s something about the duality of him that has your heart racing whenever he’s around.

You’re never sure which Cheol you’re going to get.

You’ve had glimpses of his softer side, especially on your first day when he’d carried you to bed and then left you a map- then there’d been the way he brought you your dress shoes after you’d forgotten to pack them and trekked to the hotel in snow boots on the day of the wedding-

It seems as if Seungcheol is the kind of man who likes to do nice things for you when you’re not watching, but after your small altercation last night, wherein you’d realized he’s also been doing fire duty, you’ve made more of an attempt to notice small things.

Small things like the way he takes the perfect golden marshmallow out of the fire, places it between two chocolate graham crackers, and hands it to you without a word, giving you the best s’more of the night.

He balances his kindness to you by offering Mingyu the s’more after, and you think he must be doing it as if to say ‘you’re not special, I’ll share with everyone’ but you can’t help but think there might be more to it.

To your surprise, Mingyu is the first of the three of you to get sleepy, and after a quick washup in the bathroom, he’s collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep.

For the first time since arriving at the cabin, you find yourself truly alone with Seungcheol, no big, human buffer to keep you both in line.

The silence is thick. Even so, in the quiet, Seungcheol gives you wide birth to go wash your face and brush your teeth while he cleans up the few items from your s’mores.

There’s hardly anything to be said, and the two of you find yourselves getting into your own beds in no time at all.

“Turning off the light,” Seungcheol tells you, hand reaching for the lamp chord.

He pauses, waiting for your curt “okay” before following through with his statement of intent, and the room is captured in darkness.

The wind howls outside, drowning out any sounds of your roommates breathing, and for a little while, you can almost pretend you’re alone.

Almost.

In the dark, your mind begins to have all sorts of thoughts, and you surprise yourself when words slip out of you; “I’m sorry for calling you dramatic today.”

The air feels thick and heavy, a few beats of silence passing that almost convince you Seungcheol’s asleep, but then, he responds. “I’m sorry for referring to our disagreement last night as ‘a fight’ when I talked to Jeonghan this morning.”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly.

For a short while, you think nothing else is going to be said, but then; “Goodnight y/n.”

You take a breath, wrapping yourself tighter in your blankets. “Goodnight, Cheol.”

CONTINUE READING PART 2 HERE I note. the fic was too long to be posted in one tumblr post 🤪

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