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#tbzhub
gaykey · 9 months
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I love Key so much and I always felt like no one got him like me and then I found your blog. I love your blog so much and your commentary on our fav constantly makes me smile
wtffffff no this is genuinely so sweet of you, and also, validates the lil freak in me sooo much fhdjsjwkskslw
it is so great when you find people that feel as pasionately about your fave as you do, isn't it.
really though, what a lovely thing to say, thank you! <3
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enhypenating · 8 months
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happy birthday!
:((( thank you 😊
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the-boy-meets-evil · 6 months
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all roads lead back to you | c.sc (scoups)
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(where you take an annual cabin trip with your friends and your ex decides to join this year)
pairing: ex!seungcheol (scoups) x f!reader genre: exes to lovers | angst, smut rating: explicit - minors DNI word count: ~10.6k warnings: these are exes and the relationship ended badly, but we're healing, drinking, midnight kisses, reader is mentioned as wearing a skirt & tights, making out, seungcheol picks reader up, body worship, slight nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. & m. receiving), choking, cheol has a big dick (i don't make the rules), unprotected sex (they talk about it, but don't do this), multiple orgasms & overstimulation (f. receiving), aftercare
a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 11 - cabin vacation. i'm not really sure what happened, something about scoups just makes me blackout and write too much (i only started this 2 days ago). also shoutout to @tbzhub for saying we'd do this together lmao. thank you to @gyuwoncheol, @wonwussy, & @wooahaeproductions for helping me land on cheol for this fic. also, just for fun, tagging some scoups enjoyers because i'm nothing if not a menace: @ugh-yoongi, @seungkwansphd, @wongyuseokie, @beomcoups, @horanghater, @cheolism
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The holidays are usually your favorite time of year. Sure, they’re really hectic and there’s always way too much to do without nearly enough time to do it. But, you still love it. Love being around friends and family. Love how everyone seems to acknowledge that any problems can wait for the new year. This is a time for joy and happiness. A time to celebrate all the wonderful things that did happen and leave the bad in the year you’re leaving behind. 
This time of year also brings around an annual trip that you take with friends. A trip to a secluded cabin where you can all just disconnect. Where you can sit by the fireplace and read. Where you can go to the nearby resort to ski or snowboard. Where you can drink hot cocoa and swap stories and just enjoy the company without the bustle of the city. It’s one of your favorite weekends every time the holidays roll around. 
Not this year. 
This year, your friends decide that they want to make the group a little bigger and spend a long weekend, including New Year’s Eve, together. Which is great, you’re single and there’s nobody else you’d rather ring the New Year in with. Except for one problem. Your ex is also coming. It’s been a little over a year since you broke up, so you know it’s time to move on. Moving on feels a lot harder when he decides he’s going to come to the cabin weekend again this year. It shouldn’t really surprise you. After all, you were friends before you dated. Didn’t think anything could stop you from being friends after. Didn’t actually think there would be an after, if you’re honest. And you’re definitely not going to be the one to back out or admit you’re still not really over it. 
So, that’s why you’re sitting in a car with Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Mimi, headed off to the cabins that your friends booked for an extended long weekend. You’re just thankful that Wonwoo offered you a spot in his car on the way up. Makes it a lot easier. Even if it means Jihoon and Mimi are currently in each other’s space in the backseat as she shows him something on her phone. It’s not that you mind how cute they are together, it’s just still weird to see Jihoon acting like that with anyone. She seems to have waltzed in and melted any defenses he had.
From his position in the driver’s seat, Wonwoo reaches over to squeeze your thigh. You look over at him, grateful for the reminder that you’re not alone in all of this. Grateful that he swore up and down to make sure you never felt awkward the whole weekend. Maybe it won’t be so bad, you think, as you queue up more songs for the drive. That’s the best part about being in the front seat. You get to control the music and Wonwoo started the trip by telling Jihoon and Mimi just to roll with it. Not that they’re paying all that much attention, but it was a nice thought all the same. 
The drive up is uneventful. Wonwoo navigates the winding back roads with a practiced ease. You sigh happily, taking in all the trees dusted with snow and the winter wonderland all around as you leave most of your troubles behind. There’s something almost refreshing about being out here. Like the air is crisper and everything is stiller. Wonwoo would make a smartass comment about how there’s more trees, less pollution, and a lot fewer people. So, of course all those things are true. You think it’s more, something about the magic of Christmas and the New Year. 
Your smile falls the second you pull up to the main cabin because you can see that Seungcheol’s car is already there. Figures he would not only drive, but beat you there. You try to set that aside, though, because the place is beautiful. It’s set up with a main cabin where you can hang out, cook, play games, or do whatever you want. Then, there are separate small cabins, mostly just with bedrooms and bathrooms, to sleep in. Nayeon, bless her, took care of figuring out the sleeping arrangements for everyone. At least that would be easy. 
Jihoon and Mimi are out of the car almost as soon as it stops, even if Jihoon grumbles about how his legs are stiff and the air is cold. It takes one smile from Mimi and he’s smiling back, grabbing their bags from the car to head for the main cabin. Meanwhile, Wonwoo adjusts his glasses and makes sure everything is turned off before getting out of the car to stretch. When he meets you at the trunk, his gaze is soft. 
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks. 
You sigh and pull out your suitcase, with a little help from your friend. “No.” 
“We shouldn’t have come,” Wonwoo says.
“Just because I’m being a baby doesn’t mean you should’ve stayed away,” you reassure him.
“You’re not being a baby,” he says with a frown. 
“Still,” you press. “We’ve been broken up for a year. There’s going to be a lot of people here, it’ll be fine.”
“As long as you’re sure,” Wonwoo relents. “He didn’t bring anyone, did he?” 
“No, Nayeon said it’s just him. She’s worried about me too,” you say with a playful eye roll. “She’s got me staying in a cabin with you, her, and Joshua.”
“I’m glad we’re at least staying together,” Wonwoo says.
“I’m gonna be fine, Wonwoo, you worry too much,” you insist. 
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You get through the first night and breakfast the next morning without having to say a single word to Seungcheol. It’s been awhile since you last saw some of your friends, so there’s a lot to catch up on. The group is also pretty large, which makes it easier to blend in. Everything, even something as simple as making a meal, is kind of a process, too. You’ve always been pretty comfortable in the kitchen and offer to help cook. Seungcheol can’t say the same. It feels like maybe it’ll be smooth and you can just do your own separate things without it being a big deal. Like you can both just agree to give each other space during the trip and not be awkward.
That lasts until the afternoon on the first full day, unfortunately. 
Even though a lot of people take time off between Christmas and New Year’s, a decent portion of the group decides a Friday will still be less busy on the slopes. They want to get some runs in earlier in the day before whatever everyone wants to do later. Seungcheol, thankfully, was one of the first to say he wanted to go. Not surprising, you know he likes really anything where he can be active. Wonwoo was also quick to say he wanted to, after asking you if that was okay. You, again, insisted it was fine. 
You’re reading your book by the fire, periodically watching Jun, Nayeon, and Mimi play cards on the other side of the room, when Seungcheol comes hobbling back in. Minghao just behind him, scolding him for not waiting and ruining the peaceful atmosphere. 
“What’s wrong?” Nayeon asks, looking up from the game.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Seungcheol says shortly.
“He rolled his ankle,” Minghao interjects. 
“Now you see why I stayed behind,” Jun says.
��I’m fine, really,” Seungcheol insists. 
“You should ice it just in case. And keep it elevated,” Minghao says as heads off to the kitchen. 
Trying to keep your face straight, you mark the page in your book and get up. All you want is for this to be as subtle as possible. But, Jun is also in the room.
“Where are you going?” Jun asks. 
“Oh, just back to my room to get something,” 
It’s a lie and you’re pretty sure they know it, but you also don’t care. You’re not going to stay in the room with an injured Seungcheol because he gets pouty when he can’t do exactly what he wants. This is going to be one of those times. There’s no way he’s going to be happy sitting still when he knows his other friends are still out on the trails. Especially when it’s such a minor thing. You hope that they all understand your decision to just let them deal with him and whatever he has to say.
When you feel like it’s been enough time, you venture back into the main cabin, portable charger in hand, for good measure. Not that you think anyone will ask what it is that you needed from your room, but it’s always a good idea to be prepared. Just in case. At first glance, you think the main living area is empty. That makes you sigh in a little relief. Not that you want to be alone when this is a trip for friends. It’s just nice to have a quiet moment in all the chaos. You think you’ll be able to get back to your book, at least for a little, until you notice someone laying on the couch. Not someone. Seungcheol. Quickly, you turn around, hoping he doesn’t see you. And it would probably work, if you didn’t bump into the corner of a table on your way out.
His head snaps up and swivels to look at you. “What - oh.” 
“Sorry, I was just leaving,” you say.
“Can you really not be in the same room as me?” he asks. He sits up so that he can look at you more easily.
“I’ve been in the same room as you plenty,” you point out.
“Not alone,” he persists. 
“What reason would we possibly have to be alone together?” you wonder. 
“You don’t have to be so…” he starts.
“So, what?” you press.
“So…like this,” Seungcheol finishes, somewhat lamely.
“How should I be?” you ask. 
“I don’t know, just, not like this. We were always comfortable with each other, even before…” he starts and stops suddenly.
“Before we dated? Before you shattered my heart? Before you decided it was easier to shut me out instead of just talking to me?” you ask, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 
“I know,” he admits.
“You just abandoned me,” you say quietly. “I needed you and you weren’t there. I never would’ve left you like that.” 
“I know. I made so many mistakes. So many things I can’t take back,” he says. He actually looks remorseful. You’re not sure if that’s better or worse. “I’m so sorry for that. I would take it all back if I could. I’d do everything differently.”
“This was a mistake,” you say.
“Talking to me?” he asks.
“Coming on this trip at all,” you admit and turn away. “I have to go.” 
With your back to him, you miss the way his face falls at your admission. Don’t see the way he considers getting up to follow after you. It’s for the best, anyway. Your heart's already breaking again just from one conversation. Just from seeing the emotion on his face. The one face you thought you’d always know better than your own. It’s amazing how everything can change in a single moment. How something that took years to build, first as friends and then as a couple, can all come tumbling down in a second. A split second or a fork in the road. One wrong turn and it’s all gone. 
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You make it through to Saturday without any more forced conversations with your ex-boyfriend. Manage to sit on the opposite end of the table from him during meals. Wait until he commits to playing a game or watching something before you decide what to do yourself. Still, you feel very included in everything with different groups of your friends because there are plenty of people there to hang out with. If you take the forced conversation with him out of the equation, it’s actually been a pretty good trip, overall. Not nearly as hard as you expected it to be. 
“I’m gonna go check out the lodge at the mountain, anyone wanna come?” Wonwoo throws out. There’s a smattering of lukewarm responses. Mostly, people say they may hit the trails a little bit later after they’ve had a lazy morning.
“I’ll come,” you offer. 
“Shocking that you two are a pair,” Nayeon jokes from her spot on the couch, curled up with Joshua.
“That’s enough out of you,” you joke back before turning to Wonwoo. “I’ll go grab my coat.”
“Can you grab my hat? I think I left it in my room,” Wonwoo requests.
“Sure,” you agree. 
When you meet Wonwoo in the entranceway, you find your eyes back on the living area. Almost like you can feel someone watching you. But, when nobody is, you figure that you must have imagined it, not noticing the way Seungcheol’s jaw tightens or his mouth turns down in frown. He had just been looking and he wasn’t liking what he saw. Instead, having missed all that, you fall into step beside one of your closest friends and head out of the cabin.
“It’s not a far walk, but we can drive if you want,” Wonwoo offers, sticking his hands into his pockets.
“No, a walk would be nice. It’s not as cold today,” you say.
One of the best parts of being friends with Wonwoo is the sheer comfort you feel with him. It’s always been like this, since the beginning of your friendship. Always just as easy to say the hard things to him as it is to sit in silence. Always easy to avoid the hard things, because he seems to find it easy to to tell when you don’t want to say something. Unfortunately, it’s also easy for him to push you to speak, even when you’re not sure if you want to. Like now, as soon as you reach the Lodge. 
“Are you doing okay?” Wonwoo asks as the pair of you make your way over to a stand selling hot drinks. 
“I’m assuming you don’t mean from the walk over here,” you deflect while you look at the menu.
“No,” Wonwoo answers simply. 
“I’m fine,” you insist, stepping up to the counter. “Peppermint hot chocolate and whatever he wants.”
“You don’t have to…” Wonwoo starts, falling silent at the look you give him. He sighs, knowing you won’t relent. “Just a plain hot chocolate.” 
“Thanks,” you say as you pay.
“You’re not fine. I can see it on you,” Wonwoo says.
You pause when someone calls out your name for the order. “I really am doing fine. The only hard part was getting sucked into a short conversation with him yesterday.”
“What did he say?” Wonwoo asks. 
“Nothing much,” you say and meet Wonwoo’s eyes. You can tell you need to carry on. So, you recount the conversation as best as you can remember.
“He misses you,” Wonwoo surmises. 
“And if he does? What does it matter?” you ask.
“You miss him too,” Wonwoo points out. “That’s why it matters.”
“I don’t,” you argue. “He broke my heart.” 
“What happened? A year ago when you broke up, what happened?” Wonwoo asks.
“You know what happened,” you say with a sigh.
“No, I don’t. I know he left, somehow, but I don’t know what really happened. You’ve always kept that part of the story close to the vest,” Wonwoo says.
“Because it still hurts,” you plead. 
“Maybe it’s time you let someone else take a little of that pain by talking about it,” Wonwoo suggests. You find a table to sit down as you’re considering sharing.
Ultimately, it would be nice to get someone else’s perspective. To get someone who knows you both, and cares about you both, to weigh in on everything that happened. Even if Wonwoo seemingly took your side, you know he still talks to Seungcheol as well. With a steadying breath, you launch into the whole explanation, at least your side of it. It’s time, past time, honestly, that you get this off your chest.
It was great, at the beginning. The two of you were friends first, for years, before something shifted and you started to see each other differently. Suddenly stepping a little more carefully around each other. Not really knowing what to do or what to expect. Not sure if it would ruin the friendship to admit that there were feelings there. Until one day, Seungcheol finally made the move, asked you out on a date, and made sure you knew that’s what he was asking. It got very serious, very quickly. Far more quickly than either of you expected. But, that’s what happens when you start as friends. There are so many things you already know, so many things you don’t have to ask, so many memories already embedded into your relationship. Things were good. It wasn’t like they were perfect. There were little fights here and there, but nothing that felt that serious. Nothing that felt like a dealbreaker. 
It’s hard to admit, even to Wonwoo, that you saw Seungcheol as your forever. As someone you wouldn’t let go of once you had him. He was your safe space without ever being boring. Your protector without ever being one of those toxic assholes. Your biggest cheerleader without being condescending. It was way too early in the relationship to be feeling like he was your forever, so you didn’t ever say it to him, but you felt it. Felt it deep in your bones. He was also vulnerable with you in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else. At least anyone else that you’d seen. The first time he just let you take care of him, let you see him as something other than someone strong and in control, it made you fall even more deeply for him. It didn’t hurt that he nearly stopped your heart with how stupid hot he was. That gets a snort out of Wonwoo before you continue on. 
Suddenly, everything changed. Seungcheol withdrew into himself and stopped confiding in you. He could always be a bit moody, a little deep in his feelings. Still, he would always talk to you about it. Would always share with you what he was feeling. Sometimes it was something so simple as you getting a little too much attention, which he didn’t like. He could be a little jealous. It was something you worked on with him. Sometimes it was a conversation with a friend weighing heavily or something going wrong at work. No matter what, he always talked to you about it. Until he didn’t. Until he just stopped saying much of anything. Until he got a bit secretive with everything in his life and you didn’t really recognize him anymore. His phone was always turned over. Not fully paying attention to you when you were in group settings. Not making plans the way he used to.
“What did you do?” Wonwoo asks. 
“I confronted him,” you say. Simple. It was so simple. “I told him it wasn’t okay and that I deserved better. That we always got through things together and that we needed to get back to that.” 
“Mature of you,” Wonwoo says.
“I thought so,” you say and take a steadying breath. “He agreed, even. Told me that I did deserve better.”
“So what…” Wonwoo asks, but trails off. Obviously confused. 
“He said that it was too much. That he couldn’t give me the things I deserved. That I would be better off finding someone else who could,” you say and wipe away the stray tear. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Wonwoo says. 
“I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want you to look at me like that,” you admit. “Like I was broken because someone didn’t want to love me.”
“You’re not broken,” Wonwoo insists softly, hand reaching out for one of yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. But it’s okay to admit when you need help. Or when you need a friend.”
“I know,” you sigh. “It’s just hard.”
“I know, but I’m here,” Wonwoo assures you. 
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Saturday night finds Wonwoo and Seungcheol as the last two awake in the living room, finishing their drinks in relative silence. It used to be easy for Seungcheol, sitting with his friend like this. Yet, it hasn’t been, not in the last year since he broke up with you. Not since Wonwoo made it clear that they were friends, but he was sticking by you no matter what. Not that Wonwoo’s been cold or rude or anything. That would have made it easier, Seungcheol thinks. No, instead he’s been mostly the same. Still just as friendly and supportive. All it does is make him feel worse. Why can’t Wonwoo just say what’s really on his mind?
“How was the lodge earlier?” Seungcheol asks.
“Hmm?” Wonwoo asks, eyes seeming to come back into focus as they look over at him.
“The lodge? You went over there earlier. I was just asking how it was,” Seungcheol repeats.
“Oh, fine. We just ended up getting hot chocolate and talking. Kinda watched people coming and going from the trails,” Wonwoo says like it doesn’t matter. Maybe it doesn’t. 
“Are you two…are you…” Seungcheol starts and stops the question several times.
“Dating?” Wonwoo asks, taking pity on his friend. “No. She’s been single since…”
“I broke her heart?” Seungcheol supplies humorlessly. 
“I wasn’t going to say that.” 
“No? It seems like someone spending that much time with her would say that.” 
Wonwoo regards him for a second, adjusts his glasses like he’s buying time to think. “What happened? With you and her, what happened?”
“I’m sure you’ve already heard it from her.” The answer is short. Seungcheol doesn’t want to play these games, not with someone that’s so obviously close to you.
“I’m not asking to hear it from her. I’m asking to hear it from you,” Wonwoo presses. He’s insistent, but his eyes are soft. It’s easy to wonder if it’s time to share. 
“I got scared,” Seungcheol admits. “And jealous.” 
“Of what? Or of who?” Wonwoo asks.  Seungcheol takes a long sip of his drink and grimaces a little. He isn’t buzzed enough for this. Can’t really believe he’s entertaining sharing in the first place. But, well, isn’t this what he’s hoping for? Another chance?
“Of everything and everyone,” Seungcheol says. “She was so kind, so patient, so good to me. Good for me. Just the best person I’ve ever known. I just thought that one day, she’d wake up and she’d realize that she deserved more than me.”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “Why did you think that?” 
“I don’t know,” Seungcheol admits. “I guess, well I know I can be difficult. That I get in my head a lot. I know sometimes it’s hard to talk about what I’m feeling. She made a lot of that feel easier, which made me fall harder for her. But, then she makes a lot of people feel that way, doesn’t she? Like she’s the only one who will understand. I don’t even think I was the only friend of ours that had feelings for her. I just, I don’t know, it sounds so fucking dumb now, but I couldn’t compete.” 
“It wasn’t a competition, Cheol,” Wonwoo says.
“I know that,” Seungcheol insists.
Wonwoo fixes him with a stare. “Do you? She’s a lot of things, maybe a lot that make people interested in her. But, she chose you. She chose you and kept choosing you, every chance she got. I don’t think that ever would’ve changed.” 
“Do you want me to feel worse?” Seungcheol asks, voice rising a bit. “I already told her that I would go back and change things if I could, but I can’t.” 
“Do you still love her?” Wonwoo asks, voice so quiet. Yet, it carries all the same.
“Of course I do,” Seungcheol says.
“Then figure out a way to tell her,” Wonwoo replies.
“It’s not that easy,” Seungcheol says. “And aren’t you supposed to be telling me to leave her alone? As her friend?” 
Wonwoo rises from his seat. “It can be that easy, if you stop being your own worst enemy. And I’m your friend, too. It doesn’t seem like the chapter is really over for either of you yet.” 
Seungcheol sits and considers what his friend shared. Wonders if there might be something there. He barely registers as Wonwoo says goodnight and calls a goodnight in response. Then, he’s left with his thoughts again. Should he say something? Can he bring himself to say something? Or will you just shut it down again?
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New Year's Eve brings a snowstorm with it that has your group of friends deciding it’s best to just stay in the cabins instead of venturing out to the party they’re having at the lodge. There’s plenty of you for a party, plenty of food, and plenty of warmth, especially close to the fire. The snow falls lightly outside the windows, blanketing everything around with a fresh layer of powdery flakes. It’s not supposed to get truly heavy until much later in the evening. So, you can just get dressed up and have a party with everyone that’s familiar to you. No worrying about mixing with strangers and how they’ll impact the party.
When you and Mingyu go into the kitchen to take stock of what you have and plan out the food for the day, you realize that maybe you don’t have everything that you need after all. You could actually use more food and you definitely could use some champagne to toast with. It makes sense, though, you planned to go into the lodge to ring in the new year. Your smile when Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Joshua offer to go out and do a run is immediate and wide. You hand over a list of what you need (well, you text it to all three of them just to cover your bases) and they’re off into town. That lets you turn back to the kitchen, where Mingyu and Mimi are starting on an appetizer. You’re trying to figure out what you can work on when someone clears their throat. Your heart skips a little when you look up.
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” Seungcheol asks you, face more open than you’ve seen in a while.
It makes your mouth go dry. How are you supposed to turn him down when he’s asking in front of everyone like this? Like it’s just a totally normal thing to ask? All you can do is nod and avoid looking at anyone else around you. Just nod and follow him into a smaller side room off the main living area. 
“Thanks,” he says when they stop walking.
“What was I supposed to do? Make a scene?” you ask. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to ask you to talk,” he admits.
“I heard you,” you say, cutting across his words. He looks confused. “Last night? I heard you talking to Wonwoo. I left my charger in here and came back to get it.” 
“Oh,” is all he says.
“Oh?” you repeat.
“I wanted to actually tell you, not have you overhear me talking through things with someone else,” he says, mouth turned down like he’s upset.
“Then you should have just talked to me,” you press.
“I couldn’t! You won’t talk to me,” he says defensively.
“Not this weekend. A year ago, when it all happened,” you say quietly.
“I know,” he says. You expect him to look annoyed or defeated, but he only looks sincere. “I knew the moment you walked out that I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I’ve tried a hundred times since then to just talk to you, but the words never felt right.” 
“Cheol,” you plead. You’ve been waiting a year to hear this. Except, you finally feel like you’re starting to move past it all and this is only making it confusing. 
“Just, you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to hear me out,” Seungcheol pleads. “I know I have absolutely no right to ask you that, but I’m asking anyway.”
“Okay,” you say, barely above a whisper.
“I fucked up. I knew I did when you walked out, but it took me a while to realize just how bad. I didn’t just drive a partner away, I drove someone away that got through all my walls in a way nobody else ever has. I drove away the person that made me feel comfortable, that supported me even when I was being an idiot, that constantly showed up for me. I was afraid that I didn’t deserve you and always jealous of everyone else that paid attention to you. I thought one day you were gonna wake up and realize that there were better people out there that were less, I don’t know, emotionally closed off. I didn’t realize until way too late that you knew exactly what you brought to the table and what you deserved, but you picked me. I didn’t realize that it’s the only thing I ever needed, was you seeing all of me and picking me anyway,” Seungcheol says. 
“I don’t, that’s…” you trail off and shake your head to clear it. You’re trying to find the words when Nayeon pokes her head in.
“Hey, I’m so sorry to butt in, but Mimi just kicked me out of the kitchen. I was only offering because Mingyu said he needed help,” Nayeon says. “I think they need you.”
“Oh, um,” you start, kind of like a deer in headlights.
“You should go help him. I don’t want everyone hating me for keeping you from helping Mingyu,” Seungcheol says with a light chuckle at complete odds with the situation. 
“Thank you,” Nayeon says with a smile as she grabs your arm to whisk you away.
“Does Mingyu actually need me?” you ask.
“Huh? Yeah, he does,” Nayeon laughs. “I wasn’t trying to save you, you’re good enough at that on your own.”
“I don’t buy that,” you say, pulling both of you to a halt. Nayeon rolls her eyes.
“Fine, maybe I heard what he said to Wonwoo last night from Joshua and maybe I want you to at least consider what he has to say,” Nayeon admits. “I liked you together, sue me.”
“I just might,” you grumble, heading off to help Mingyu in the kitchen without Nayeon in tow.
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After dinner, you and Mingyu insist that you’re not getting anything, for anyone, for the rest of the night. And probably into tomorrow. Mimi got distracted part way through and disappeared for entirely too long with Jihoon. Which would be fine, but there were a lot of people to cook for and you needed all the help you could get. Joshua popped in and out, thankfully, but it was still tiring. The perk has been that you actually haven’t had to lift a finger since. Your drink stays full and someone is always willing to get you something to eat. That lets you settle in to play a game with the group.
The TV in the background steadily counts down as it gets closer to midnight. Occasionally, the performance draws your attention to watch. Mostly, you’re just drinking entirely too much. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your brain, you know that you’re just trying to avoid thinking about everything Seungcheol said. Or trying to avoid thinking how good he looks tonight. It’s hard to stop yourself from lingering on the way his shirt clings to his chest. Has he been working out even more? Or the way his pants stretch tight across his thighs. Not for the first time, you shake your head to clear it, recross your legs, and focus on whatever game it is you’re playing. Ignore the look Wonwoo gives you from his place next to you. He certainly hasn’t missed your looks. (And nobody else really has, either, except for Jun. But, that’s just Jun for you.)
Everyone sets aside the games when it gets closer to midnight, milling around with varying amounts of energy instead of sitting still. You realize, even with any awkwardness from Seungcheol being there, you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather ring in a new year with. Surrounded by all of your favorite people, what else could anyone ask for? Well, except maybe a New Year’s kiss. As if on cue, your glance drifts over to Seungcheol. It’s a little surprising to find he’s already looking at you, smiling softly. It sends a surge of emotion through you to think of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. When you turn away to take a sip of your drink, you find it’s empty. With midnight rapidly approaching, you really need a refill on the champagne. You’re about to go do that when a voice breaks into your thoughts.
“Here,” he says.
You turn to look at Seungcheol, now very firmly in your space, holding out a new glass of champagne. “Thanks.”
“I just noticed you were almost empty and figured you’d want it,” he offers.
“Yeah, I should make sure this one lasts,” you chuckle out.
The host on TV announces that there’s only a minute left. Everyone around you starts talking excitedly or getting closer to their partners, if they have them. Jokingly, you told Wonwoo that he would be your New Year’s kiss. Now, that’s the last thing on your mind. Seungcheol hovers close by. When you look over at him, though, his eyes are on the TV, counting down along with the host when it gets to ten seconds.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” 
Everyone shouts together and starts clinking glasses. Hugging their friends or kissing their partners. Your body makes the decision for you when you turn to the man next to you and cheers his glass. As he starts to turn away, you grab his arm and pull him into you. Press your lips against his before either of you can figure out what’s happening. He recovers from his surprise quickly and wraps his free arm around your waist to pull you against his chest. It’s familiar and also somehow completely new at the same time. 
Breathless. That’s what you feel when you pull away and cheers with other friends. You throw your arms around Nayeon and press a kiss to Wonwoo’s cheek. Pointedly ignore any looks or raised eyebrows about your decision to kiss your ex in a room full of all your friends. It’s fine. Everyone is doing fine. You’re definitely thankful that someone suggests a game and you can all go back to celebrating without talking about the elephant in the room. A very different elephant than when you first got to the cabins. 
There’s another massive difference, too. Instead of sitting on the fringes or carefully leaving space, Seungcheol plops down right next to you. Lets his arm rest along the back of the couch. His arm isn’t around you, but it could be with the slightest adjustment. Several of your friends look at you with the question in their eyes. You avoid all of them, like the true adult you are, and focus, instead, on the warmth of Seungcheol’s thigh when it presses into yours. Actually, you avoid drinking any more, either. The whole night has been a little confusing (read: a lot confusing) and you don’t need an alcohol haze adding to that. It doesn’t escape your notice that he stops drinking as well. 
When you start to get a little tired, you excuse yourself to the kitchen, claiming you need a snack and don’t know what you want. A minute later, Seungcheol appears on the other side of the island. Leaning casually against it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like he hasn’t sent your entire world into a spiral. Like he’s not still one of the hottest people you’ve ever seen in your life.
“So, uh, I don’t wanna assume anything…” he starts and you hold up a hand.
“I’m going to excuse myself in a minute to go to bed. Give it a few minutes and then come to my room,” you say, walking around him without waiting for a response. 
When you tell the group that you’re going to turn in for the night, you do your best not to meet anyone’s eyes. You’re not naive enough to think you’re fooling anyone. Not that you even want to. It’s just, well, you want this time to figure out what’s happening. It’s a little hard to do that when you know everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. There’s the tiniest bit of you holding onto the hope that you can pass it off as you being overwhelmed by the kiss at midnight. Like you didn’t just tell him to meet you in your room.
Back in your room, you shrug off your jacket and sit down on the bed. The seconds seem to drag by waiting for him to show up. For a second, you wonder if he’s actually going to show up at all. You stop those thoughts in their tracks. He had a lot to say and he kissed you back. Then, he spent the rest of the night pressed up close to you. He’s going to show up. Before you can spiral further, there’s a knock at the door. You’re halfway to the door when it opens a crack and Seungcheol peeks his head inside. 
“Can I come in?” he asks, looking unsure for the first time since before you kissed him. 
“I did ask you to come to my room,” you joke.
“I was a little surprised,” he admits.
“Me too,” you agree. 
He shuts the door behind him, allowing you to really look at him for the first time all weekend. To take in his appearance, as he removes his jacket, without any other eyes on your. Or anyone analyzing the interaction. To just appreciate the man you fell in love with. His hair is a little shaggy and blond, a color you don’t remember seeing on him before. He catches you looking, but instead of a smirk, there’s only a smile. Hopeful and genuine. It’s a little overwhelming to have him in your space. To know you need to talk. To know there’s so much to work through.
Instead, in the only move you can think of, you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his middle. He doesn’t even miss a beat. Just wraps his arms around you, erasing any last bit of space between you. It feels calm, familiar. Like no time has passed. Like you’re not different people now. He kisses the top of your head, so soft you think it might shatter any resolve you have left. 
“I’m sorry I kissed you in front of everyone without talking to you,” you mumble into his shirt.
“I’m not,” he quickly reassures you.
“I really fucking want to kiss you again,” you admit, still talking into his shirt rather than looking at him.
“Then,” he starts, moving a hand to tilt your chin up, “what are you waiting for?” 
“We probably should talk,” you say.
“You’re right,” he sighs.
Except, do you really want to talk right now? Do you really want to stop yourself from kissing him again? You stopped drinking so your head would be clear enough to make this decision. You’re just a little sick of overthinking everything this weekend. Sensing the indecision, Seungcheol presses a feather light kiss to your lips. Enough to make the decision, while also being light enough that you could easily pull away. 
You do, just for a second. “Fuck it, let’s talk tomorrow.” 
Your lips crash back against Seungcheol’s, hungry and desperate, arms wrapped around his neck. It makes him tilt down a little so that you can press against him. There’s no hesitation on his end, either. You find yourself wondering if he was always this good at kissing or if he’s gotten better since you broke up. Or maybe it just means more the second time around. When he picks you up, you gasp into the kiss. Wrap your legs around his waist to feel a little steadier. Not that you think he would ever let you fall. It’s easier than you expected to fall back into this kind of trust with him. 
It’s like you both want to go fast, yet also take your time. Seungcheol deposits you on the bed, then takes his time removing your shoes. Toes his off a little more quickly. You go to remove some of your layers, only to have his hands stop you. He’s so slow, removing the sheer top with painstaking care. Kissing along your skin as he exposes it. The amount of attention makes you squirm. You’re prepared for something quick and dirty. Something more like a one-night stand. You’re not prepared for him to worship your body as he exposes more of your skin. Part of you feels really exposed, because he’s still fully dressed, as he carefully unhooks your bra. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world he’s ever wanted, makes your heart ache. Makes you second guess if this is right. 
“We can stop. We don’t have to do this,” he whispers into your skin. 
You grab his face so that you can look him in the eyes. There’s something in you that just needs to gauge him for a minute. Needs to really know what decision you’re making. There’s so much love there, so many unspoken words, so much sincerity. Maybe you’re not over him at all. Maybe he meant everything he said.
“No, I want this. Want you,” you assure him. 
His eyes sparkle a little. There’s no time to dwell on it, though. His mouth is on your skin again. Kissing the spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. Kissing the beauty mark on your shoulder. Kissing across your collarbone. When he works his way down to your nipples, he’s not being so soft anymore. He pinches one between his fingers without warning.
“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss. 
“Too much?” he asks. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, but you do anyway. That knowing smirk sends desire coursing through you.
“You’re such a little shit,” you whine. 
He pinches the same nipple again. Watches you as he flicks his tongue over the other. Actually smiles when you arch into his mouth. “You don’t seem to mind it.” 
You wind your hand into his hair in response, pull a little harder than normal. He groans against your breast, sending a little vibration into your skin. “You don’t seem to mind a little pain, either.” 
There’s no answer. Not that you need it. One of his hands moves down your body, mouth still focusing on your chest, until he gets to your thigh. Your skirt is bunching up around hips from squirming on the bed. “How much do you like these tights?”
You look down at the sparkly tights you bought just for the party. That you’ll probably never wear again. “I mean, they’ve got sparkles. Wasn’t planning to wear them again.” 
“Good,” he says. 
You’re expecting him to rip them on the spot. Instead, he returns his mouth to yours, kissing you hard, and lets a finger run over your entrance, through both tights and underwear. It’s not enough. There’s entirely too much fabric in the way. He’s teasing you, he has to be. There’s no other reason that explains this kind of torture. 
“Jesus, Cheol, please,” you beg. 
“What are you trying to do to me?” he groans. Seems like he still likes it when you beg for something.
In either case, he carefully rips a hole in your tights, too focused on you to figure out pulling them down. Seemingly in one motion, your underwear is pushed to the side and he’s got a finger running up your entrance. Feeling that you’re turned on from the way he’s been kissing all over your body. Thankfully, you don’t have to beg again. At least, not yet. He presses his fingers at your mouth and you suck them in eagerly. Swirl your tongue around them. He almost looks reluctant when he withdraws them to press one inside your cunt. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans. 
“Forgot how good your fingers felt,” you answer, squirming underneath him.
“Bet I could make you come just on my fingers,” he says as he adds a second one.
“Fuck,” you draw out. He’s not being gentle with you anymore. “Then you don’t get to taste me. And we both know how much you love that.”
He leans in closer, you’re assuming to kiss you. Instead, his lips find your ear. “Who says I can’t do both?” 
You bite down on your fist to keep from screaming out when he thrusts faster. Try your best to hold on when his thumb brushes over your clit. All you want is to prove him wrong. Prove that you can hold on and that you’re not putty in his hands. Except, your body remembers. It remembers just how good he makes you feel. Remembers how well he knows what makes you crazy. Nobody has ever known your body like him. And it’s a little annoying. With his fingers inside you, it’s easy to realize that nobody feels as good as him. You could never get yourself off like he could.
It’s an embarrassingly short time before you’re coming on his fingers, fighting not to scream out. Trying anything you can not to make it more obvious just why you decided it was time to head to bed. Seungcheol guides you through the high as you fall back into the bed, sinking deeper into the mattress. After a moment, you prop yourself up to watch him remove his shirt. You’re no longer the only one that’s overexposed. Then again, you don’t feel exposed being half naked around him. It only feels comfortable. Once he removes his shirt, he moves back to your body. Actually takes the time to remove your tights and underwear now. His breath ghosts across your cunt. That action alone is enough to send a little shiver through your body. You’re definitely sensitive. 
Seungcheol positions himself between your legs and looks up when you suck in a breath. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He’s so pretty like this. You’ve always thought that. Pushing his hair out of his eyes and looking up at you from underneath his lashes like he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. So caring. The little bit of caution you get from him in the middle of him ruining you. You clear your throat to remember he asked you a question. “Yes, Cheol. With you, always.” 
It’s immediately more honest than either of you are expecting. Instead of breaking the moment, though, it seems to spur him on. The kind smile dissipates into something much more confident. He spreads you open and looks up for a last time before his tongue licks a strip up your entrance. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time he was between your legs, your entire body remembers. It’s like muscle memory. The way your back arches. The way your hand knots in his hair. The way the praises fall from your lips. You’re sensitive. So fucking sensitive. And he knows. It’s always been one of his favorite things with you. Pushing you to the edge and then over again.
“God, I forgot how fucking good you taste,” he says when he takes a breath. 
“Well maybe, fuckkkk,” you start before cutting out. 
For once, he’s not a demon. He doesn’t ask what you were about to stay. Just keeps alternating between fucking his tongue into you and sucking your clit into his mouth. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. When his nose bumps against your clit as he’s buried deep in your pussy, you lose it again. Come all over his tongue and his face. Come harder than you remember coming in a really long time. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. 
By the time the last shock works through your body, he’s laying next to you on the bed. You can’t help it. You have to lean over and kiss him. Want to taste yourself on his lips. It’s almost like you need that to know this is all real. That it’s all happening and it’s not just some weird, horny dream. (It’s not like that would be a first, either. You’ll never admit it, but you’ve thought a lot about him since you broke up. Especially when you were horny and needed a release. That’s your business, though.)
“Fuck, Cheol,” you utter when you pull away from the kiss.
“I’ve missed hearing my name on your lips,” he admits. “Specially when you call me Cheol.” 
“I’ve missed saying it,” you share, equally honest. 
You’re a little weak already. It’s hard to imagine what tomorrow is going to be like. But, you move down the bed anyway. Seungcheol tracks you with his eyes as you position to undo his pants. He moves his hips up to help you pull both his pants and briefs down. His stare as you pull your skirt down and discard it at the side of the bed is almost possessive. It sends something through your body. 
It’s your turn to remind him that he’s not the only one who remembers. You also remember just what drives him crazy and just how to get him going. You remember every place he likes to be kissed. So, you start there. Run your lips along every part of his body, like you’re committing him to memory again. As if you could ever forget anything about him. You delight in the sounds you pull from him just with your kisses. Maybe he knows, though, that you’re working your way down. 
“So hard just from getting me off,” you comment. 
“Because I know that nobody can make you come like I can and it’s fucking hot,” he answers.
It’s the same answer he’s always given and something about the familiarity makes you bolder. Even though you know there’s a conversation for tomorrow, it feels like the easiest thing you’ve ever done. You take his dick in your hand, run a finger over the tip and feel a little bit of the precum there. When you lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft, he shudders. Closes his eyes for a second before they snap back open to watch you. He’s always been like this. Always wanting to watch. This time is no different as you slowly take him into your mouth. You know he wants to fuck into your face, know you’d let him. But, you’re thankful he doesn’t. Even if you remember, he’s still big and thick inside your mouth. You need the time to get used to him. Once you do, though, you start to bob. Slowly, at first, before you let him take control. Relax your throat and let him find purchase in your hair. Encourage him to jerk his hips up as you keep your eyes on him as much as possible. You know how much it drives him crazy, even as the tears form and you gag a little 
“Fuck,” Seungcheol utters. 
He pulls you off his cock and up to his face so that he can kiss you. This is your favorite version of him. When he’s needy and desperate and completely putty in your hands. Like he can’t possibly imagine being anywhere that you aren’t. It’s when you know that you’re not crazy, that he’s just as far gone for you as you are for him. 
“I really need to fuck you,” he says. His lips are swollen from kissing you and his pupils are completely blown. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.” 
“It’s fine, I’m still on the pill and I haven’t been with anyone since you,” you say. 
That seems to catch him off guard. “You haven’t?”
“No,” you answer.
“I haven’t either,” he admits.
“Then, we’re fine. I trust you,” you tell him. 
“Thank god, I really miss being inside you,” he breathes out.
“Think you just miss me,” you grumble as you reposition to straddle his lap.
“You and that smartass mouth of yours,” he retorts.
“I’m about to ride you, Seungcheol, and you just fucked my smartass mouth. So, maybe, pipe down,” you warn him.
This has always been your dynamic, swapping back and forth for who’s in control. As much as he says he likes control, you know he likes giving it up to you just as much. You know that he hasn’t ever let anyone else be in control apart from you. He looks up at you as you position yourself over him. There was a time when you hated this position. Felt really self conscious about how you must look from this angle. The second you admitted it to him, he was quick with his praise. Assuring you that you’re beautiful to him and there’s nothing to worry about.
He stops you before you lower yourself onto him. Puts his fingers in your mouth again and you obey without a second thought. Then, he runs his fingers along your entrance. Slides a finger in before quickly adding a second. It’s an awkward angle, but you get what he’s trying to do. Appreciate that he wants to make sure you’re at least a little prepped. When he pulls his fingers out, you’re only a little embarrassed at the moan that slips through your lips. If you completely ignore the smirk that he throws your way, well, who can blame you? The smirk is gone a second later when you finally lower yourself onto him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans. 
You know him so well. You know his instinct is to buck his hips up into you. You know it’s hard for him to let you adjust. But, you also know that he wants to be gentle, even if it’s just for a moment. 
“I forgot how good you felt, jesus fuck,” you moan out. 
“Please, I need to feel you move,” he begs. It’s nice, when he’s the one to beg for something.
And who are you to deny him anything he asks for when he sounds so pretty asking? You do move, entirely too slowly. You need to find your rhythm, though. Need to find some place to anchor your hands. They settle on his chest, at first, and you actually can’t believe how much muscle he has there. He’s always liked to work out. Always wanted to be in shape. This is even more than that. You’re still appreciating the way his chest feels when he grabs one of your hands. Without a word, he moves it to his neck.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He nods. It’s been awhile since you choked him, even lightly, but it turns you on. It’s easy to see that it turns him on, too. As you apply a little bit of pressure, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips. You do everything that you can to pick up the pace. To move faster on top of him. It doesn’t take very long until he’s planting his feet so that he can set the pace. He takes over the rhythm and it gets a lot harder. Bodies slapping together with each movement.
“Fuck, Cheol,” you say, trying not to scream. 
You move your hand from his neck so that you have a better grip. He’s moving too fast for you to feel comfortable that you won’t press too hard into his neck. It’s insane, you know that it’s insane, but you already feel like you’re getting close again. You start to clench around Seungcheol, making the stretch feel that much more intense. 
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come if you do that,” he groans. 
“Then do it,” you force out. “Wanna feel it inside me.”
“Jesus,” he groans. 
Everything happens so fast. You can feel him everywhere and your body is on fire. He’s still fucking hard into you, but he’s also rubbing your clit. Helping you get there with him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem to realize you’re already on the verge of your third orgasm. Oversensitive and overstimulated. Your body starts to shake and it’s hard to keep yourself upright on top of him. 
“Fuck, Cheol, I’m coming,” you hiss out. 
“I’m about to come too, fuck,” he answers. 
His thrusts get a lot more erratic and you feel him let loose inside you. You feel the way he moves to try and support you even while he’s working through his own release. When he stills, you collapse forward onto his chest. Breaths shallow and heavy. Your whole body’s exhausted, yet so happy at the same time. Carefully, you pull yourself off him. You’re sure a little bit of cum slides out with the loss of his cock inside you. Not that you care. 
It’s several minutes of silence. Seungcheol lays on his back and you’re on your side next to him. It might be a mark of how much he really did miss you that he doesn’t flinch when you start tracing patterns onto his stomach. It’s not like you just stop being ticklish. Eventually, you realize you need to get up. The last thing you want is to go to bed crusty. 
“Come on, I got lucky and I have an attached bathroom,” you say when you get up off the bed. You reach a hand to him and smile when he takes it without question. 
It’s quiet again as you help clean each other up. A comfortable kind of quiet. The way it used to be. This is another favorite of yours with him. Aftercare has always been his thing. No matter how rough he is with you in bed, he’s impossibly gentle when he cleans you up. It makes your heart ache a little because you’re so fond. It’s a weird mix of feelings.
“We should sleep in my room tonight,” he says. 
“We’re already here,” you point out. 
“With sheets that are probably soaked,” he teases back. 
“What are the chances we can get to your room without being seen?” you wonder. 
He shrugs. “It’s late. Probably better than the chances nobody heard us.” 
Your cheeks flush a little. Sure, you definitely tried to be quiet. You’ll have to wait until the morning to see if you succeeded. 
“Come on, my room has a door to the outside,” he says. 
So, you follow. You put your layers back on and grab something to sleep in. And you don’t actually see anyone before you’re safely tucked away in his room. That night, falling asleep tangled up in Seungcheol, is the best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. 
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Morning comes and brings with it the need for an actual conversation. As you stretch in bed, you appreciate the soreness in your body with a smile. Anything you’re feeling now is surely worth it. That is, until you realize you’re in bed alone. Dread creeps in. Could last night really have meant something different to Seungcheol than it did to you? Did you just make a massive mistake? You’re starting to wonder if you’re only going to break your own heart this time, with nobody else to blame, when the bedroom door opens. Seungcheol steps inside with a thermos and a bag that looks like it might have some of the pastries Wonwoo brought back from the store yesterday.
“You’re awake,” he says with a smile. He sets down the thermos and removes his jacket to hang it up. 
“I was worried you’d left,” you admit when he finishes taking off his shoes and sits next to you. His face looks hurt for a second before it settles. 
“No, I just went to get coffee and figure out what we were walking into before you got up,” he says. 
“And?” you prompt. 
He pulls out a pastry and hands it over. “Nayeon asked where I slept last night and if I knew where you were. I don’t think she heard anything, but who knows with her? Wonwoo wasn’t in the main area, so I don’t know. They said they all knew I was following you, though.”
“Guess we can’t really avoid it,” you joke. 
You’re expecting him to smile, too. Instead, his face is serious. “Do you want to? Avoid it, I mean.”
It makes you serious. Maybe a little too honest. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“I don’t expect you to believe me, not right away, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he says and takes your hands in his. “If you give me another chance, I’m never letting you walk away from me again. I’ll prove that I’m worth everything you give me.”
“You’ve always been worth it, Cheol,” you tell him. 
“I realize that now,” he agrees. “I also realize it’s up to you to know what you deserve and what you want. That wasn’t ever my decision to make and I’m really sorry for doing that to you.”
“It hurt, for sure, but not having you around hurts so much worse,” you admit. It’s hard to meet his eyes, even though you know you’re safe. 
“It hurts so fucking bad. I hate it. Last year was the worst year of my life,” he says. 
“You got a massive promotion, though! Wonwoo told me,” you say. 
“This is going to sound so cheesy, but I’m done caring. That promotion didn’t mean shit without you being there to share it with,” he shares with you. 
“I guess we’ll have to celebrate it this year,” you say. 
His face lights up. “Really?”
“I want to give us another chance. I don’t think either of us are over it,” you acknowledge. “Last night aside, I want to take it slow. I want to take our time instead of rushing in like we did the first time around. I want to get it right this time.”
He nods immediately. “We can go as slow as you want. I mean it. I’m not letting you go again.”
“Good, because I don’t think we should wait to see if the third time’s the charm,” you joke. 
“I’m glad I came this year,” he says as he grabs the thermos. 
“Me too,” you agree. 
It’s funny, you think, how someone can feel so familiar and yet so new at the same time. Seungcheol feels like home, like your favorite sweater, or like curling up with a book by the fire in winter. But, he feels entirely new, too. Like maybe you both changed over the past year. Maybe you both grew into the people you needed to be to love each other better. To love each other right. Later, you’ll have to break the bubble and face your friends. Right now, though, you can just appreciate that this silly little cabin trip brought you peace. 
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this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you liked it 💕
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zzoguri · 5 months
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the perfect pair ➵ masterlist
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esports player!kim sunwoo x esports player!reader
being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?
general genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, afab reader (they/them pronouns), slow burn, slight angst, crack, fake relationships (you two pretend to be friends) sexual tension, smut aka porn with plot (just know sunwoo whines), esports team au specifically during valorant champions tour, misogynistic & sexist remarks and behaviors, drinking, pet names, bets are made, a lot of gamer lingo, one bed trope™, also probably wrong format and flow of vct but who gaf!
word count ➵ currently 10.5k words, expected to be 20-40k (sorry i cant help it + vct is pretty long)
playlist ➵ yuck by charli xcx // stop talking by day6 // constant repeat by charli xcx // happier than ever by billie eilish // take a hint by victoria justice & elizabeth gillies // jealous by nick jonas // useless by omar apollo // somebody else by the 1975 // and july by dean fy. heize // talk by beabadoobee // teeth by 5sos // motive by ariana grande ft. doja cat // i wanna be your slave by måneskin // cologne by beabadoobee // a little death by the neighbourhood // the perfect pair by beabadoobee // babydoll by dominic fike // bet u wanna by sabrina carpenter// not in the same way by 5sos // just friends by keshi // sugar by men i trust // disaster by conan grey // shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t by niki // it’s you by zayn // die for you by the weeknd ft. ariana grande // flash forward by le sserafim // plot twist by niki
taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @tbzhub @stealanity @wooluv09 @deobi0412 @untilsunset @hiefisch @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @wonuroyal @sunkitti
a/n ➵ i made this masterlist post because i dont think tumblr will be able to handle all the parts i need to pump out :’) my headcanon of sunwoo being a shit gamer will forever live, but i’ll make an exception for this story <3 major shoutout to @shegotthewoobies for guiding me throughout the process <3 lots of love always to my val duo for life! do reblog and leave feedback!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist
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guides
➵ the guide: “welcome to valorant.”
your official guide to “the perfect pair” universe, from gaming lingo all the way to vct timeline
➵ the players: “wáchale güey, my crew is coming through.”
your official guide to the main characters of “the perfect pair” universe
official parts
➵ one: “ew, is that sunwoo over there? 저리 꺼져.”
being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?
➵ two: “okay kids, we’ve got company. pretend you all get along.”
➵ three: “sunwoo, we are the perfect pair.”
extras/drabbles
number and names of chapters are subject to change!
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wooahaeproductions · 11 months
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WIP GAME 💌
Thanks for the tag twin twin @the-boy-meets-evil
Rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous they are. let people send you an ask with any titles that most intrigue them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.
My wips:
-You Drive Me Crazy
-The Answer is You
-Discotheque Juliet
-Saturday in the Park
-Part of your Symphony
-Over the Radio Waves
-You Never Walk Alone
-Cool for the Summer
-Coffee and Blossoms
-Snowblind
-Love is Looking for You
-Inevitable
There’s a ton more and I don’t if some of these will even see the light of day bahaha. But I look forward to talking about them!
Tagging: @wonwooslibrary @playmetheclassics @shuadotcom @flowerboykun @anyamaris @sun-kore @tbzhub @raibebe (ignore if you’ve already been tagged and no pressure to do it!)
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yunki-reads · 2 years
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fics so cosy and comforting that my heart exploded
under the cut is a compiled m.list of all the fics that make me feel warm and fuzzy inside precisely when i need it the most. thank you to all the writers! ♡
¸.•*' all the works are fluff ! (but some might have hints of being suggestive or angsty so please read the warnings first)
¸.•*' this m.list will be updated from time to time, so send your fluffy recs in ♡
¸.•*' fics reblogged before december ‘21 are not included here
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ATEEZ
nothing here :(
THE BOYZ
♡¸.•*' younghoon
12 days of the boyz - younghoon — by @tbzhub
♡¸.•*' juyeon
[8:57pm] — by @stealanity
ENHYPEN
nothing here :(
SEVENTEEN
♡¸.•*' ot13
seventeen and types of physical affection — by @multi-kpop-fanfics
seventeen playing with their s/o's hair while they cuddle ! — by @jungwnies
mtl likely to tell the members about their crush — @wildhosh
♡¸.•*' jeonghan
a sanctuary in you — by @dokiyeom
jeonghan bf hcs ! <3 — by @nayaaatv
[11:43] — by @delicatewerewolfsoul
♡¸.•*' joshua
a guy called joshua — by @suhojunmyeons
phone call — by @sweetiesicheng
♡¸.•*' wonwoo
dating wonwoo feels like... — @ssentimentals
♡¸.•*' dokyeom
the d in dk stands for dihydrogen monoxide — by @savventeen
♡¸.•*' vernon
[20:44] — by @delicatewerewolfsoul
dating vernon feels like... — @ssentimentals
initiate your joy — by @sukisdeliveryservice
STRAY KIDS
♡¸.•*' chan
25 days of christmas ~ day 24 — by @dreamescapeswriting
♡¸.•*' minho
pine needles — by @sweetrainwrites
♡¸.•*' changbin
why are you in the kitchen? — by @lee--felix
♡¸.•*' jisung
070. “you’re warm.” — by @huenjin
TOMORROW X TOGETHER
♡¸.•*' ot5
signs they fell for you — by @hykai
♡¸.•*' soobin
untitled, two. — by @kurosism
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shuadotcom · 8 months
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Rules: pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people
tagged by @rubyreduji thank you jj! ❤️
Scoop - lil nas x Happy fools - txt Ungodly hour - chloe x halle All about you - ateez Darl+ing - seventeen Open the door - topp dogg Teenagers - my chemical romance Caraphernelia - pierce the veil Odd future - uverworld Megan's piano - megan thee stallion
tagging (no pressure!): @horanghater @gyuwoncheol @thesafecafe @tbzhub @loveyongie @kimsmingyu @yoonkyoong @anyamaris @lovejoshua @kqweenn
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ugh-yoongi · 2 months
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bias check !
tysm for tagging me, @eoieopda!
since you bravely included only one per group, i will do the same. i absolutely do not have a type what are you talking abt <3
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tagging: @the-boy-meets-evil since it's only one bias, @effortandmore, @hot-soop, @tbzhub, and anyone else who hasn't done it yet & wants to!
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enhypenating · 8 months
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🤠 September receiptify 🎉
It’s that time again!!! Tagged by @blueside-hobi as expected 🤭🥰😃🫂😊😌
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I’m gonna tag @bourgeoix @strawberryfrostiing @boobzi @rikilove4 @aizeachew @librapropaganda @declawed @joon-rkive @cherryhub @tbzhub and @lip-scrub :3
if you wanna be tagged just like and I’ll add you :)
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the-boy-meets-evil · 6 months
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take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | pt 3
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(where you and chan are friends, but he's your brother's best friend. and you've always been just a little out of reach. until one season changes everything.) pairing: brother's best friend!chan (dino) x f!reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, angst, smut rating: explicit warnings/notes: mentions of unhealthy relationships (reader x boyfriend), mentions of food, mentions of drinking/alcohol, friendsgiving, chan is having a crisis, explicit smut in this part, kissing, body appreciation, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, protected sex (p in v), aftercare, chan is a tease, chan calls reader baby one time, i think that's it but let me know if it's not word count: ~9.2k (full fic is roughly 23.5k) notes on the characters: anyone used as a background character is meant to be an OC, i'm just lazy with coming up with names a/n: SHE'S DONE! i cannot believe that (not me sticking to a timeline). huge thanks to @svthub for hosting this fall collab. check out the full list of fics here. make sure you go back and read parts 1 & 2 for context. this is the last one 😭 (unless i return for a drabble/timestamp). also thank you to my bby indi for creating an amazing banner @classicscreations.
tagging: @christinewithluv @aaniag @dejavernon @tbzhub @bitchlessdino @seungkwansphd
part 2 | masterlist
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Even though he feels a bit weird about it, Chan makes good on his promise to Carla and they reschedule. Instead of going out to a too-loud bar, Chan suggests a favorite restaurant of his. Some place with good food and a better atmosphere. The perfect place to try and get to know his date on a real level. Not only is she beautiful and genuinely interested in him, she’s kind, easy to talk to, and surprisingly funny. The perfect person to finally move onto a healthier, strictly friendly relationship with you.
Everything about the date goes even more smoothly than he expects. Despite how open she is while texting, Chan’s surprised to find how engaged she is in person. It’s like nothing and nobody else exists apart from the two of them. She talks openly about liking him, too, because she says she doesn’t see the point of dancing around things, playing some kind of game. Life is too short not to tell someone how she feels. There’s a warmth in hearing that, like something dormant being awoken. It’s not like his other feelings completely disappear, but it’s nice to have that kind of connection.
At the end of the date, they walk out together and Chan grabs her hand without thinking twice about it. She stops him just outside the restaurant to pull him towards her for a kiss. Maybe it doesn’t make him see stars or anything insane like in the movies, but it’s nice. Her lips are soft against his and seem to just kiss away any worries. It really has been the best date he’s been on in a long time. So much so that he considers coming up for a drink when Carla invites him. There’s just a little something in the back of his mind holding him back and so he politely declines. He reasons it away that he’s got Friendsgiving the next day. It’s been a great date, but he’s definitely not ready to bring Carla to meet his friends. It’s only been one actual date. Even if they have been texting a lot.
Chan is up a little early the next day because he needs to run to the store to get some drinks before making his way to Seokmin’s house. That’s been their go-to place for bigger gatherings like this since he bought it because it’s got the most space. Last he heard, there were fifteen people coming for Friendsgiving. He’s also got to pick up Jay and Vernon on the way there so there aren’t too many cars. Jay should’ve been helping him pick up drinks. But, no. He crashed at Vernon’s. Which isn’t entirely surprising since Vernon’s new game is at the beta-testing stage and Jay’s always been the number one tester. It’s more than mildly concerning to see his two friends smirking when they get in the car, though.
“What?” Chan prompts.
“How was your date last night?” Vernon asks.
“Yeah, are we going to have to set an extra place at the table?” Jay adds on. 
“What are you talking about?” Chan questions.
“You went on a date last night, right?” Jay presses. 
“You know I did,” Chan confirms. “We live together.”
“And you took her to that restaurant we love,” Jay carries on.
“Yeah,” Chan says slowly, drawing the word out.
“Oh, cut him some slack. I guess you were so caught up in the date that you entirely missed that some of our friends were there too,” Vernon says and laughs at Chan’s face. “Yeah Jiyeon texted me laughing about how she tried to get your attention and you didn’t even notice.”
“Oh shit, I’ll have to apologize to her,” Chan says. 
“She was with Mina, Lisa, and my sister too,” Jay adds on. 
“They were all there?” Chan worries. 
“Yeah, I think it was my sister’s idea. A little bit of a girl’s night for whoever was free,” Jay says. “Rude of them not to invite us. But clearly you were busy.”
“So are we going to be seeing her today?” Vernon asks. 
“It was one date,” Chan deflects.
“One date that you kissed and then left with,” Jay adds on. Chan whips his head over to look at his best friend.
“Sorry, Ji had a lot to say about it. You know how she is,” Vernon shrugs. “And Jay wasn’t sharing the game so I had a lot of time to text her.”
“Great,” Chan says. 
“Hey, that’s a compliment! I stayed up playing a game and crashed on a couch, for you,” Jay complains.
The two of them carry on bickering while Chan’s head is a million miles away. Not exactly what he’s prepared for or expecting walking into Seokmin’s house. At least he knows ahead of time. For all the times Jay’s a pain in the ass, which is basically any time he’s breathing, he’s a loyal friend. He might be ribbing Chan for being so oblivious now, but he’s also giving him time to prepare before he walks in because Jiyeon is going to give it way worse. So, Chan takes the rest of the drive to figure out how he’s going to say. 
It’s hard, though, because entirely too much of his brain focuses on the fact that you were there, too. Something Jay kind of glosses over, probably trying to take the focus off. He’s never called Chan on it, but he’s known how his friend feels for a long time. You were there and you saw his whole date. Saw the way he was caught up. Saw the way he left with Carla. Saw the kiss. Saw everything. Because you were with Jiyeon and she would have been doing a live commentary. That’s just who she is. Not in a malicious way, she just hates being ignored. It’s stupid to be caught up on what you thought. He’s moving on. That’s what the date with Carla was supposed to do and he knows he can’t just live in this perpetual state of caring about you. Not when you’re in the middle of putting your heart back together. Not when you haven’t shown any interest. Not when you straight up said Chan was just a friend. 
He’s barely through the door before Jiyeon is harassing him. “So, what, you go on a date with someone you barely know and you just forget we’ve been friends for literal years?”
“Easy, Ji, I didn’t see you,” Chan repeats. 
“Well obviously,” she retorts.
“Did you call my name? Or send me a text to be like hey, over here?” Chan fires back. Fighting fire with fire is the only thing she responds to.
“No, you were too wrapped up in your little date,” Jiyeon answers like it’s obvious.
“Maybe you didn’t really want to get my attention. Maybe you just wanted to bitch today. Maybe you woke up and chose violence,” Chan says, earning an immediate eye roll. 
“Did you just call me a bitch?” Jiyeon asks with faux outrage.
“I said you wanted to bitch, I’d never call you a bitch,” he answers anyway.
“Well, where is she then?” Jiyeon asks as she makes a show of looking behind Chan.
“Carla? She’s not here. Obviously,” Chan says.
“Oooooh do you like her enough to use her name? Not just the girl you’re dating?” Jiyeon teases. 
“I hate you,” Chan utters without any bite.
“I know,” she sing-songs.
Almost involuntarily, Chan’s eyes find their way to you, looking for some kind of reaction to the whole scene. But, you’re sitting with Seokmin, like you aren’t paying attention at all. Like maybe you don’t even care. Which is good, right? Chan wanted you to leave Seungsik so that you could be happy and heal, not so that he could have a chance. Which is exactly what happened. It should be a good thing, seeing you happy. It’s just that he can’t help but feel like you don’t seem as happy as you did the day after leaving Seungsik at his aunt’s house. 
It starts as Chan thinking he’s overreacting. Throughout dinner, it becomes crystal clear that something is off. You stick close to Seokmin and Lisa, don’t even really mingle with people in the same way you do any other time everyone is together. Even with the friends you don’t get to see as often. There’s something a little dull about you, like the dimmer switch isn’t all the way on. And Chan never sees you without a drink in your hand, which is a little odd, too. Almost everyone drinks too much at Friendsgiving and then naps or sobers up before leaving. Drinking is normal. This isn’t that, though. 
The thing that hurts Chan the most is that you hardly speak to him at all. Several times, he tries to start a conversation, only to have you give short answers before excusing yourself to do something else. Or talk to someone else. Or be anywhere that Chan isn’t. That hurts on a much deeper level than any feelings he has or had for you. Over the past two months, it’s felt like you were coming to depend on him more as a genuine friend. Someone that you could turn to or be vulnerable around. More than just another person in a decent sized friend group or your younger brother’s best friend. There were even times when he wondered if he was in your inner circle. Things definitely shifted. But, whatever it was seems to have been short lived. The two of you are further apart than where you started. 
It’s not until Chan is back home at his apartment, leftovers from the meal tucked away in his fridge, and getting ready for bed that he gets answers. He’s not tired and he doesn’t want to go to sleep. All he wants is to get comfortable and watch something mindless. Jay seems to sense that something’s off and doesn’t even give him a hard time. Just lets him go off into his room and shut the door. His phone dinging catches his attention, though. 
You: today ws wierd and i hted it You: i mis m y channie 
The text catches him off guard for a lot of reasons. The first is that you’re clearly a little drunk, or maybe a little buzzed. You’re not usually such a sloppy texter. But, the much bigger reason is that you called him your Channie. You’ve called him Channie but never yours before. 
Chan: are you drunk? Chan: are you okay? You: ‘m fine You: not drunk Chan: are you home? You: no stayed at seoks Chan: good i’m glad You: do you like me
Chan stares at that message for a good minute like the words will somehow change. Does he like you? Are you asking as a friend or something more? Can he really try to get over you when you’re texting him like this?
Chan: course i do, we’re friends You: that’s not what i mean
Of all the ways the night could have gone, this was not one Chan considered. Things were definitely weird during Friendsgiving. He’s not sure how many people noticed. Jay definitely had, if him giving Chan space when they got home is any indicator. Seokmin probably noticed too, since you’re currently staying there. Before he can answer your text, his phone is going off with an incoming FaceTime. He answers without thinking.
“You answered,” you say like it’s some kind of surprise.
“Of course I did,” Chan breathes out. “What’s wrong?” 
“Do you like me, Chan?” you repeat. It’s so different watching you say it than seeing it typed. He’s trying not to focus on you sitting in bed just like he is. 
“I told you…” Chan starts and you’re shaking your head. 
“I know we’re friends, but do friends do everything you’ve done for me? Do friends go on train rides and apple picking and photoshoots and to pumpkin patches? Do friends spend an entire party not even bothering to talk to anyone else? Do friends support each other the way you’ve supported me?” You’re rambling, Definitely a little drunker than you want to admit, especially with some of your words slurring together.
“I don’t know,” Chan admits. 
You turn back and look straight into the camera. “Why didn’t you even see me last night, Chan?” 
“Well, I guess I was just…” Chan starts.
“What? Distracted? So distracted by your date that you didn’t even see me?” you ask. His heart breaks for how hurt you look. That’s the last thing he wants. 
“I’d already kinda blown her off once, over you, kind of,” Chan admits. Too honest.
“Over me?” you ask. Your eyes are wide like it’s not what you were expecting.
“I was, well I was with her when I saw Seungsik,” Chan says. “I made an excuse and left, but said I’d see her again another time.”
“Oh,” is all you say.
“Yeah, so I didn’t really want to do that to her again. She doesn’t deserve that,” Chan says quietly. 
“What about what I deserve?” you wonder.
“You know I think you deserve the entire world,” Chan insists. 
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth like you’re at war with yourself over something. “Do you think you could love her?” 
Before Chan can answer, he hears a door open and watches you turn to the side. Somewhere in the room, he hears Seokmin.
“I thought we said no drunk texting or calling or anything?” Seokmin reminds you, sounding very sober. 
“I thought you meant Seungsik,” you shrug, unashamed. Seokmin comes into the frame and sees Chan.
“Oh, hey, Chan,” Seokmin says, smile not quite as bright as Chan is used to. It’s clear that Seokmin didn’t just mean your ex.
“Hey, Seok,” Chan answers.
“I’m gonna take this and put her to bed,” Seokmin says.
“Good idea,” Chan agrees. 
Seokmin turns the camera to you. “Say goodnight to Chan.”
“Night Channie,” you call out.
“Night,” Chan answers. 
“Goodnight, Chan,” Seokmin says.
“Wait,” Chan says and watches as Seokmin’s face turns to him. “Delete the last few texts in our thread. That’s probably a better conversation to have when we’re both sober.”
Seokmin’s face relaxes and he nods, like he understands more than Chan does at the moment. Maybe he does. The entire conversation is weird and it’s leaving Chan with way more questions than answers. Why are you so curious about his feelings now? Why do his feelings for Carla matter to you? Why are you drinking like that? Did something happen with Seungsik? Are you finally processing and this is part of the grief? Why does it hurt to feel like an outsider to it all again?
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The next time Chan sees you, there’s no mention of the brief FaceTime call or the texts. Things with you are somewhere between the total comfort of the party at his aunt’s house and how you were before all the Fall activities. It’s this weird limbo that he doesn’t really know how to process. It seems like nobody else really knows how to process it, either, and unfortunately, some of them are picking up on it. 
Then, there’s the issue of Carla. She hasn’t done anything wrong, but Chan also isn’t sure how he feels. On one hand, he really does think it’s best to just move on from his feelings for you because it’s all just been too much. On the other hand, it feels dishonest to keep going out with Carla when his head isn’t totally in it. But, she really is kind and she seems to understand some of his hesitation and even suggests that they do something a little more lowkey, like lunch during the work day, and that seems fine, right? Everyone has to eat lunch.
Wrong. 
Well, not about the lunch part. She picks a place that’s close by where they work, since they don’t work far apart, and Chan appreciates the slightly longer lunch. It’s a welcome break in his day and the perfect way to end the week. Carla is sweet, doesn’t push him to talk about anything he’s not ready to, though she can obviously tell there’s something. There’s a subtlety to the way she lets him know that he can talk to her about anything, no matter how awkward. And a grace when he says that he’s just not ready. She keeps all the conversation light, easy. There’s even something about it that feels a little more friendly than like a date. It’s really just an incredibly pleasant lunch.
And then comes the text. The text from you. Why on Earth did you need to send Chan a text saying you heard he went on a lunch date with the same girl from the other day? Why did you need to say that you hoped he had a good time? Why did it matter if he was spending time with someone else? It’s just kind of confusing because you’re definitely friends, but not the kind of friends that text like this. Not when it’s the first text you’ve sent to Chan since the ones he asked Seokmin to delete for you. 
So he doesn’t answer, doesn’t really know what to say. Instead he tries to make plans with Vernon to go for drinks after work. But, Vernon has other plans and Chan settles on just asking Jay. Although Jay is truly his best friend, he’s not Chan’s first choice when it’s you on his mind. Chan’s feelings for you, whatever they are, aren’t a secret to Jay, even if they’ve never talked about them. If he’s going drinking now, though, it might be too hard to keep avoiding talking about whatever he’s thinking. 
It seems initially like Jay might let Chan get away with just wanting to drink. They talk about work, about the holidays coming up, about upcoming plans. Jay mentions the big family Thanksgiving, which they’ll both be at. Chan talks about how he already feels behind on holiday shopping. They both talk about how crazy it is that Vernon’s so close to finishing one of his games. It’s just normal roommate shit. Much like lunch with Carla, everything is light and unserious. At least through the first drink. Everything changes when the bartender sets the second drink down in front of them. 
“We’ve gotta talk about it, man,” Jay finally says. 
“Talk about what?” Chan feigns ignorance.
“Whatever your feelings for my sister are,” Jay presses on, unwilling to let his best friend continue to ignore a problem. 
“Is this where you tell me that she’s fresh out of a relationship and give me some sort of speech about protecting her?” Chan asks.
“No,” Jay says simply. “She’s an adult and I’d never tell her who to date as long as she’s happy. Besides, you’re friends with her too.” 
“I really don’t know if we’re friends right now, things are weird,” Chan admits.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Jay says with a bit of a snort. 
“I went out to lunch with Carla today and then I got a text from her saying she’d heard about my lunch and hoped it was good. What am I supposed to do with that?” Chan asks, louder than he meant to.
“I don’t know,” Jay admits. “I don’t think she knows, to be honest.” 
“What do you mean?” Chan asks.
“Well, I’ll admit that I told her that you went to lunch with Carla because she’s been really weird about you since she broke it off with Seungsik. Probably before that, honestly, but it’s definitely been weird since then. I know she went to your aunt’s house the day after you told her and she confronted that asshole,” Jay says.
“Yeah, my aunt was thrilled,” Chan remembers.
“So was my sister, she said it’s one of the best times she’s had in awhile,” Jay shares.
“What did she say to you when you told her I was out to lunch?” Chan wonders.
“She just said oh good for him,” Jay says, “which I assumed meant she didn’t want me to know what she was thinking so I wouldn’t have to lie to you. I figured she was going to text you, too. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Chan brushes off. 
“Do you like her? Like actually like her?” Jay asks. 
“I don’t…I’m not sure, honestly,” Chan admits. 
“You were sure, though,” Jay presses. “I could see it in the way you looked at her. I remember thinking anyone would be lucky to have someone look at them that way.” 
“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t that subtle to anyone but her,” Chan jokes. 
“I think even she stopped being oblivious,” Jay laughs. “So what changed?” 
“I don’t know,” Chan shares. “I guess, I don’t know, it just felt like it’s been all this time and I was doing all these things with her when Seungsik didn’t want to. And I had this moment where I thought I could do things like that with her the rest of my life and be happy. But, then we were talking about him after I saw him out and she said something about how he always thought I liked her but she brushed it off. So I just kinda realized I needed to move on.” 
“Can you do that if she never knew for sure how you felt?” Jay asks. “Is it fair to either of you?”
“Is it fair to her when she’s only just gotten out of a relationship?” Chan challenges. 
“Like I said, Chan, she’s an adult. Just telling her that you have feelings for her isn’t the same as expecting her to jump right into something new,” Jay reasons. “If you love her, like I think you do, then she deserves to know that she isn’t crazy. Even if nothing happens. The only way to move forward is by being honest.”
“Love her…wait, why would she think she’s crazy?” Chan worries. 
“Because you’ve been weird too, bro. It isn’t just her,” Jay laughs. “She is going to absolutely kill me for this, but she remembers texting you and then FaceTiming you after Friendsgiving. She knows you asked Seokmin to delete the chat and dodged her question about how you felt. So, I think she thinks that she imagined you liking her.” 
“Shit,” Chan breathes out. “I was just trying to do what I thought was best.”
“I know that, but I’m not sure she does,” Jay shares. 
“Fuck it, I need shots,” Chan declares. 
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He’s definitely not sober when he shows up at your apartment a few hours later. Despite Jay’s insistence that they eat something, he’s still very buzzed, bordering on the world having some blurry edges. Although Jay insisted this could wait until tomorrow, he’s still here at your doorstep. Doesn’t even look back at the Uber after he gets out. His fingers dance over the keypad to the building on autopilot because he’s been there enough times before. There’s no thought about if you’re home or what time it is. No thoughts about if you have company. All he can think is that he’s sick of this weird limbo. 
You answer the door with your hair piled on top of your head, oversized t-shirt hanging off your frame, and a look of complete surprise on your face. Whatever you see on Chan’s face makes you step aside and let him in without a word. It’s not until he feels the couch dip as you sit next to him that he really meets your eyes.
“What are you doing here, Chan?” you ask. 
“I’m sorry,” Chan whispers.
“For what?” you prompt.
“For so many things,” Chan answers. “For Seungsik, for not being a better friend, for not seeing you that night at the restaurant, for telling Seokmin to delete your texts, for not giving you a straight answer, for going on dates with someone. But mostly for falling for you when it’s the worst possible timing.”
“You’re drunk,” you say after a moment.
“A little, maybe, but that doesn’t make any of it less true,” Chan argues. 
“I want to hear all of this from you in the morning, when you’re sober,” you say. 
“Please, I don’t know if…” Chan starts.
“Come on, Channie, let’s get you to bed and we can talk in the morning,” you say. 
You stand and reach a hand to him. He’s not sure if it’s the thought behind the gesture or hearing you say Channie, but he takes your hand without questioning it. Before he knows it, he’s tucked into bed and his eyes are closing. It may be the most comfortable bed he’s ever slept in. 
The next morning, sun through the cracks in the blinds wakes Chan up and it takes him more than a moment to remember where he is. It’s only when he looks around and sees your familiar decorations everywhere that it dawns on him. Not only is he in your apartment, he’s in your bedroom. He slept in your bed last night. Somehow that realization has him feeling even worse than the slight hangover. Since life is really unfair, you walk in a minute later, looking far better than anyone should in the morning. You hand over a cup of coffee. Fighting his embarrassment, Chan sits up so he can accept it and take a sip. Of course it’s perfect. It feels like the reverse of the morning after the Halloween party.
“How are you feeling?” you ask.
“Terrible,” Chan admits ambiguously. 
“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for drinking so much. Jay said he wasn’t sure where you were putting it,” you chuckle out. You pick up your own coffee mug to take a sip.
“When did you talk to Jay?” Chan wonders.
“He was blowing up your phone and I don’t know your password so I figured he was worried about you. I texted him to say you were here and passed out and you’d text him today,” you answer. “He didn’t seem concerned once I said you were here.” 
“Yeah, well it’s not really the hangover that’s making me feel terrible,” Chan mumbles and you raise an eyebrow at him. 
“I hope I’m not making you feel terrible,” you throw out.
“No, I’m just embarrassed, really,” Chan says. 
“You don’t need to be,” you assure him, voice gentle. 
“I am so sorry for telling Seokmin to delete those messages, I thought it was the right thing to do,” Chan begins. 
“It’s fine. I’m not surprised my darling brother told you about that, though,” you say. 
“It’s not fine. I just, I don’t know, I didn’t really know what was going on and it felt a little overwhelming,” Chan says. 
“Yeah I can see that. To be fair, I’m not really sure what I was even trying to accomplish that night,” you say quietly.
“Can I try to say the things I wanted to say last night?” Chan asks. “Jay actually helped me realize some things.”
“He’s got his moments,” you laugh. “And yeah, I think I’d like to hear what you wanted to say, now that it’s morning and you’re sober.” 
“I could repeat what I said, but it really comes down to this. I like you. A lot, way more than I should and I know that it’s, like, the worst timing in the world because of Seungsik and the break up,” Chan rushes out. “I know it’s probably not fair to you to tell you now, but Jay also pointed out that I can’t really try to move on when I haven’t told you how I feel. I just, I got kinda freaked out to tell you when you said the thing about your ex thinking I liked you, but you brushing it off.” 
“Chan,” you try to interrupt.
“And, fuck, I was trying so hard to date someone and get my mind off you that I didn’t even think about it,” Chan carries on. “But the reality is that all the things we did all season long have been some of the best times of my life. I’m sorry, I know that I’m rambling.”
“Can I speak now?” you ask and Chan’s cheeks burn red. 
“Sorry,” Chan whispers.
“I like you, too,” you admit. “I’m not really sure when it happened. Maybe somewhere along the way of you just constantly being there.”
“Yeah, we’ve spent a lot of time together the last like two months,” Chan agrees. “Wait, did you say you like me, too?”
“I did and, like, we have definitely spent a lot of time together doing all the things I love to do, which maybe helped me realize, but I think it’s been there a lot longer. All this did was make me realize how you’ve been there for me for years and I didn’t see that it was more than just a friendly thing,” you say. “You probably don’t remember but back in college, that idiot broke my heart and you and Jay spent the whole weekend cheering me up. I get why Jay did it, he’s my brother, but you didn’t have to.”
“Of course I remember, that’s when I realized I had a crush on you,” Chan says softly. 
“Chan, that was like 6 years ago,” you say, nearly choking. 
“Pushing seven,” Chan admits.
“You’ve liked me all that time and I didn’t realize?” you wonder.
“Maybe not all that time, it’s not like I haven’t dated,” Chan points out. 
“Oh yes, because you’ve dated such winners,” you scoff. 
“Are you, were you jealous?” Chan teases. “You started acting weird when I went on the date with Carla and didn’t notice you or our friends.”
“I wasn’t acting weird,” you protest. 
“Yes you were, even Jay said so,” Chan counters.
“Oh whatever, you’ve liked me for seven years,” you tease with a roll of your eyes. 
“And you’ve probably liked me just as long but you’re stubborn,” Chan says.
He’s not sure where the confidence comes from now, but hearing that you like him too just makes it feel lighter. Even though there’s no telling what happens from here, it feels good to have it all out in the open. You’ve both abandoned your coffees at this point and are just sitting on the bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 
“I am not stubborn,” you protest. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, I must be thinking of someone else,” Chan teases. 
“Must be,” you agree.
“Hey,” Chan says, more serious. “I don’t know what happens next and I know you just got out of a relationship, so there’s no pressure or…”
Chan can’t finish what he’s saying when you press your lips to his. It takes him several seconds to get over the shock, though. It doesn’t matter that you admitted to liking him, too. That’s still a big step to go from that to kissing. You’re pulling away when his brain finally connects and he kisses you back. Makes him pull you back into him so that he doesn’t miss another second of the way your lips feel against his. Makes him dig his fingers into your hips when he pulls you on top of him. You pull away to gasp and catch your breath. Let yourself get situated with a knee pressed into the mattress on either side of him. All you can do is just look at him, pupils a little blown and chest rising with each breath. Loosening his grip on you, he looks down and watches his hands slide over your thighs and back up to your hips. When he looks back at you, he finds you’re watching the movement. 
“You don’t have to be so careful, Chan, I’m not that fragile,” you utter.
“I know you’re not,” he confirms. “But, are you sure?”
“About this?” you ask and he nods. “The most sure I’ve been about anything in a long time.”
He’s about to ask you again but you just shake your head before leaning in to kiss him. You’re giving him confirmation and permission all at once. Confirmation that you want this and permission to not treat you so gently. It’s all he needs to start running his hands up across your hips and then under your shirt and up your back. Your hands move from the sides of his face to fling your arms around his neck when he presses you tighter against his body. Kissing you isn’t anything like he imagined. It’s not soft and tender. It’s a little desperate and needy, but still completely full of affection. As if testing what you said about not needing to be careful, he nips at your lower lip. The light moan shoots straight to his dick and his hands travel back down your back to your hips. Gripping you tight but also making you slightly rock against him. 
It’s not enough contact, though. Now that he’s got you like this, he just wants more. It’s almost too much when he pulls your t-shirt off and he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra. Maybe this was in your plan all along. Chan pulls back and plants a light kiss on your lips, currently pouting and a little puffy from the kisses. When he kisses across your jaw and down to your neck, you arch into it. He wants to savor this, to take his time taking you apart. Wants to coax every noise out of you. Wants to be the reason you’re completely ruined. Doesn’t know that he’s already well on the way there. 
He kisses across the top of your chest, from one collarbone to the other and you let out a small please. Probably that you need more. That’s definitely going to take time, though. When he places a feather light kiss between your breasts, you whimper again, rock your hips forward over him again. It’s everything he can do to not get too turned on too fast. It doesn’t matter if you have a million more times after this. This is the first time and he wants to savor it. Slowly, he moves his lips over to one of your breasts, flicks his tongue across your nipple a couple of times. Nips a mark into your sensitive skin and laves his tongue over to soothe the sting. Your hands are tangled in the ends of his hair that’s longer than you remember it being before. Even if you won’t admit it, he can tell you like it by the way your hands keep finding it. 
As he kisses his way back up to your lips, he moves you a little further back on his lap. Misses the confusion cross your face. But, he’s got a plan. Once he’s kissing you again, one hand slides down your inner thigh and plays with the edge of your shorts. You squirm when you realize just what he’s doing. He can’t fight the groan when he realizes you don’t have any underwear on under your shorts, either. Jesus. He has to pull back for a steadying breath. This is about you and making you feel good. He can’t get too turned on too fast. His lips find yours again and his thumb runs along your slit, inside your shorts. Collects the wetness already between your legs. You try to pull away from the kiss to moan and he uses his free hand to anchor you to him. Lightly, he spreads your lips apart so that his thumb can brush over your clit. That’s when he finally let’s you pull back. 
“Fuck,” you utter immediately.
“Is this still okay?” Chan whispers against your skin before kissing the spot just below your ear. 
“Yes,” you hiss out as his thumb continues to caress your clit. 
“You can stop it if you want,” he tells you. 
“I will kill you if you stop,” you threaten, lust heavy in your tone. 
“Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” he teases.
“Stop being such a - fuck,” you gasp out when Chan slides a finger inside you. 
“Such a what?” he prompts. 
“A tease,” you finish. “Please, Channie, you’re moving so slow.” 
Instead of answering right away, he leans in to kiss you again. Captures your moans, but doesn’t increase the slow, almost lazy speed that his finger enters you. “You in a hurry?” 
“No,” you whine, “but I need more. Please. Please just give me a little more.”
The way words fall out of your mouth, begging him to carry on, makes his dick twitch. He’s thankful you don’t seem to notice because he likes having the control like this. Likes watching you squirm on top of him and knowing it’s all for him. Gives you at least a little of what you want when he slides a second finger in. Doesn’t tell you that it’s still just warming you up for something more. Something he’s been thinking about for weeks. 
“I want to feel you, please,” you beg when Chan pulls his lips away from yours again. 
“Not yet,” he tells you.
“Why?” you whine out.
“I want to taste you first,” Chan says, fingers stilled inside of you, but thumb still lightly circling your clit. 
“Can’t we just…” you start.
“Are you gonna make me beg, baby?” Chan wonders. Your eyes widen at that, both out of surprise and desire. “I will, I have all the time in the world.” 
“N-no, you don’t need to,” you stutter out. “How do you…”
“I want you to sit on my face,” he says simply.
“What?” you nearly gasp.
“I want you to sit on my face,” he repeats. “Just straddle my face and let me show you how good I can be for you.” 
“I’ve, um, well I’ve never…” you start, turning a little shy. 
Chan takes his free hand and tilts your chin up, so gentle that he doesn’t realize the act almost breaks you. “Never had someone eat you out like that?” 
You shake your head. “I, um, haven’t actually been eaten out much.” 
“Can I admit something too, then?” he asks, wanting to make you comfortable. You nod. “I’ve been thinking about what it would feel like to be under you since you got on my shoulders at the orchard and your thighs squeezed my face.”
It’s clear that’s not what you’re expecting. It’s something so honest that it’s all you can focus on. Where Chan would usually feel too exposed, he only feels comfortable with you. Like he can expose everything about him and he’ll still be safe with you. He wants you to feel that too. Doesn’t realize that you’ve never had someone take their time with you like this. 
“Well it was kinda hot, the way you picked me up like that,” you finally admit. 
“So trust me again, I won’t let you fall,” he urges. 
You mumble something under your breath that sounds suspiciously like too late. He’s trying not to focus too much on that, too much on what happens after this. All he wants is this moment to last forever. To be able to show you just how much he cares for you.
“So how do we…” you start.
“Here, get up for a second,” he directs you, gently moving you off his lap. 
In one quick motion, he pulls his shirt off and watches the way your eyes drink him in. His muscles contract as you reach out to run a hand along his stomach. Doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath and waiting for your verdict.
“Fuck me, you’re hot. I’ve seen you swimming, have you always looked like this?” you say, sounding annoyed and making him laugh. 
“Let’s get you out of these,” Chan says instead of answering and helps you pull off your shorts. 
He leans back and makes sure that he’s comfortable. Then, he directs you to straddle his face. Urges you to trust him, Promises you that you’re not going to hurt him. Reminds you that this is about you, but it’s about him, too. He’s wondered what it would feel like to have your thighs boxing his head in. To be so caught up in you. Just as you’re about to protest, he licks a strip up your core and you gasp. He continues to run his tongue up your entrance, sliding his tongue deeper into you as he goes. You start to squirm almost immediately and he reaches up to anchor your legs on either side of his head. 
It’s honestly far better than Chan was imagining. The noises coming from you were only encouraging him to keep going. Not that he really needed any encouragement. He could drown between your legs and be the happiest he’d ever been. It was unthinkable that nobody wanted to take care of you like this before. Your arousal coated his tongue as he pressed it deeper inside you between his licks. His nose bumped against your clit and he had to grip you harder again to keep you from arching off his mouth. As if sensing that he needed you closer, you leaned forward, gripping onto the headboard. He squeezed your legs and fucked his tongue faster into your pussy. 
“Chan, fuck, oh my god, your tongue, I just - fuck,” you curse out. 
He’s good with his tongue, he knows that. Knows he’s good at a lot of things. This is different, though. Every noise sounds so much better, every body spasm is that much more rewarding, every curse sounds perfect. It’s not until your body starts quivering hard that he realizes he’s never wanted to make someone come on his tongue more than this. You must be close because you start to get more incoherent, start to try and pull yourself off him. Instead, Chan holds onto you harder.
“Please, I’m gonna come,” you whine. 
Chan pulls away from your pussy just long enough to utter a single phrase. “Then, come for me.” 
And then he’s back to burying his tongue inside you, licking faster, reaching a hand around your leg to circle your clit with his thumb again. It’s nothing but a string of curses that you utter. Clench your walls around his tongue. There’s nothing hotter than how fully you trust him as you let go, coming on his face. He times the strokes of his tongue to guide you through the high before helping you off of his face so that you can lie back on the bed and catch your breath. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, fully aware that he hasn’t gotten it all, and repositions to lay next to you on his side. Your eyes are closed and he can’t help but brush a piece of stray hair off your face. The tenderness at odds with the previous moments. 
“Whoa,” you finally say when you open your eyes to look at him. 
“Yeah,” he agrees.
“That was…fuck, that was good,” you admit. “I don’t want to give you a big head or anything but damn.” 
“It’s a bit late for that,” Chan jokes. “I could feel how much you enjoyed it.”
You swat at him. “Fuck off.” 
He catches your hand and presses a light kiss to your knuckles. “Not before I fuck you.”
The contrast between the kiss and the statement nearly gives you whiplash. It’s plain on your face that you’re wondering where this version of him came from. 
“Unless you changed your mind or you’re too tired,” he offers. “I just remember you saying you wanted to feel me.”
“Oh no, I definitely still want that. I seem to remember you promising to show me how good you could be for me,” you say, regaining the confidence. 
“My pleasure,” he says and gets up from the bed. 
You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he pulls his briefs and shorts down in one motion, dick springing free. There’s a satisfaction to watching the way you take in the sight of him fully naked. He’s confident in his size, definitely confident he can make you feel good, but it’s still nice to see the way your eyes go big. Nice to see the way you swallow while watching his hand move lazy along his shaft. 
“Condoms?” he asks.
“That drawer,” you indicate. 
He reaches in to get one and rips the package with his teeth. He’s watching you as he slides the latex over his dick. Watching for any signs of second thoughts. There aren’t any, but he wants to check anyway.
“You’re still sure?” he asks.
“Yes,” you confirm, meeting his eyes. “And if something changes, I’ll stop you.”
“Good, because I still wanna make you come at least two more times before I do,” he tells you.
You shudder. “You sure you can do that?” 
“Positive,” he says with a smile that’s entirely too confident. 
Except he knows he can deliver. Knows that he can show you just how good he can be. Knows that he can make you feel amazing. He directs you to lay back on the bed and spreads your legs. Instead of sliding right in, he uses a finger to make sure you’re still ready for him. To make sure he’s not rushing it. You squirm against his finger and he can tell you’re getting impatient again. But, he wasn’t kidding. He’s going to take his time with you. 
You’re still so sensitive that he brings you almost to the edge just with his fingers. Delights in the way you arch into him. In the way his name falls from your lips like a prayer. In the way your fingers dig into the sheets at first before you grip one of his arms. Before you leave scratch marks along that same arm. Before you’re begging him just to let you feel him inside of you. It’s enough to finally make him give into your begging. He lines himself up at your entrance and presses his dick in slowly. Much slower than his finger was pumping into you. He wants to let you adjust to the stretch, though. Your hands make their way to his back and your fingers run down his muscles there. Gently at first, like you’re just exploring his body. When your fingers run down his back again, this time scratching along the way, he buries himself in you and pulls back to snap once, quick. The resulting gasp is music to his ears. 
He sets a varying pace. Mixing slow with fast. Shallow pumps with deep ones. Tries to find out just what you like the best and what pulls the best sounds out of you. He leans back so he can throw one of your legs over his shoulder and hit a different angle. That seems to be the one you enjoy the most and it’s only moments before you’re coming undone around him again. He pulls out when you start to clench around him because he’s not sure that he’s strong enough to hold back through that. And he really does want to make you come more before he does. 
It carries on like that, Chan constantly changing your positions, doing more than his fair share of the work, studying every inch of your body. It’s clear that your brain is going a little mushy and that you’re insanely overstimulated. In the end, he makes you come two more times, in addition to the two previous orgasms, before he finally lets go. It’s honestly the best release he’s ever experienced. The best high and the best sex. Everything feels magnified and also like the most natural thing in the world. He finds it’s really easy to figure out the things you like and they seem to line up with things he enjoys as well. 
He lies back on the bed and you curl into him after you take a minute to recover. Actually tuck yourself right into his side and nestle in with his arm underneath your neck. He wouldn’t ever move if he didn’t have to. But, you both definitely need to get cleaned up. 
“Where are you going?” you ask when he starts to move. Your eyes look a little worried. That kind of breaks his heart because why do you look so nervous?
He leans back onto the bed and presses the softest, most gentle kiss he’s ever given anyone on your forehead. “To get a towel to clean up a bit. And I was gonna start a bath for you, I know your tub is crazy nice.”
“A bath actually sounds really amazing,” you admit.
“Just stay here then and let me take care of you,” he insists. 
You nod and lay back onto the bed, closing your eyes and smiling. It makes his heart swell at the level of comfort you seem to feel. He also knows that you and him need to talk, to figure out what’s going on and where this is heading. Knows that he’s already in way deeper than he should be. But, all he focuses on now is cleaning himself up a bit. It’s a little hard to do, so he just hops in the shower to rinse off as quickly as possible. Once he’s done with that, he focuses on getting the bath running for you. 
When he feels like the temperature is right, that the bath bomb has dissolved enough, and that it’s all completely perfect for you, he walks back into the bedroom. He expects to find you asleep. Instead, you’re sitting up with some fresh clothes next to you. 
“I heard you in the shower,” you say and offer him the clothes when you get up. You wince just slightly. 
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. 
“I’m not,” you disagree. Chan helps you to the bathtub and helps you in. He blushes a little when you return the favor and kiss him softly on the lips. He turns around when your voice stops him. “Where are you going?”
“I was going to let you enjoy the bath,” he answers.
“I’d like it better if you stayed here,” you admit and his heart feels like it really will explode. 
“Let me just put on some clothes,” he requests.
“You could also just get in with me,” you offer. “Not in a sexual way, just in a closeness way.”
How can he argue with that, really? Your tub is plenty big enough, a sticking point for you even if the rest of the apartment was on the smaller size. The main bathroom was massive, comparatively. So he gets in carefully across from you and settles into the water. It does actually feel really nice. His eyes fall on you moving gingerly to wash yourself off. 
“C’mere,” he says, “turn around.” 
You do as he asks and settle in between his legs, with your back leaning against his chest. He picks up your loofah and takes over rubbing it carefully across your skin. You relax further against him almost immediately, which he takes as a good sign that he’s doing something right. There’s a lot he’s done or tried, but this is new territory for him. And he wants to be good at it, too. 
Once he’s finished cleaning you off, the two of you just stay like that, you leaning against his chest. It’s a comfortable silence that neither of you feels the need to break. It’s not until the water starts to feel cold that you both admit you need to get out. This time, you actually let Chan put his clothes on and you put something comfortable on as well. He helps you pull the sheets off the bed to throw them in the wash. 
The two of you check your phones when you plop down onto the living room couch and Chan grimaces. He’s got a whole bunch of texts and missed calls from Jay. Some are from last night, like you said, but some are from today, too. He shows them to you and you show him a string of notifications that look similar. 
“Time to break the bubble?” Chan asks. 
“At least for long enough that he stops having a heart attack,” you agree. 
So, Chan dials and isn’t surprised when Jay picks up on the second ring.
“What the fuck, Chan, where are you? And why isn’t my sister answering either?” Jay asks instead of a hello.
“Uh, you’re on speaker,” Chan answers. 
“Hey,” you chime in.
“You’re still over there?” Jay asks incredulously. “How much could you possibly have to talk about?” 
“Worried I’m going to steal your best friend?” you tease.
“Or are you worried I’m going to steal your sister?” Chan asks and you laugh.
“No, you’re better than literally any person she’s dated ever. By a lot,” Jay acknowledges. 
“Oh my god, you really are just missing your best friend,” you groan. 
“And my roommate, he’s my roommate too,” Jay protests.
“We have things to talk about,” you say.
“How much do you have to talk about?” Jay wonders. “He likes you, you obviously like him. What else do you need to know?” 
“That’s between us,” you say as Chan starts to talk.
“We also didn’t talk last night because I was drunk,” he adds.
“Yeah and it’s late afternoon now, so what have you been…oh my god, that’s fucking gross, that’s my sister,” Jay sputters out.
“I didn’t even say anything!” Chan protests. 
“You didn’t have to. We’re roommates, remember?” Jay answers.
“If you miss me, just say that and go,” Chan teases.
“I do miss you, I made Vernon come over earlier and it’s not the same,” Jay says.
“Hey,” they hear Vernon say in the background.
“I think I hate this already,” you say and scrunch your face.
“Sick of him already?” Jay jokes.
“No, I don’t like you liking someone I’m dating,” you disagree. 
“Dating?” Jay and Chan ask at the same time.
“Oh, well, I just figured…” you start.
“I’m hanging up on you, bro, we have things to talk about,” Chan says. 
“Fine, but just be good to her, she deserves that,” Jay says.
“Yeah, she does,” Chan agrees, eyes on you. 
He hangs up the phone and just looks at you, unsure of what to say. Unsure of how to start figuring out what this is. You just got out of something that was really unhealthy and he’s not trying to rush you into something new or risk it being unhealthy because you didn’t heal. Couldn’t stand to be a rebound. He’s never thought this far.
“I didn’t meant to assume, I just…” you start.
“Of course I want to date you. It’s just, you just got out of a relationship and I want to give you time to get over that,” he says.
“I think I’ve been over it since the train ride, to be honest,” you say. “Maybe it took me a while to realize. But you showed me, time and time again, what it means to show up for someone you love.”
“I love you, too,” Chan says softly.
“So we figure it out together?” you ask, so hopeful.
Chan leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. “Yeah, we figure it out together.”
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i'm sad this is over, but it was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoyed them as much as i did. and there's a very real chance i'll return to this with future timestamps/drabbles. but who knows when because of who i am as a person!
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zzoguri · 7 months
Text
[part one] of guitar strings and peeled tangerines (i’ll bruise my fingers just for you)
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non-idol!jacob bae x reader, slight non-idol!ji changmin x reader
when you are unable to continue staying in the city, you are forced to move back to the small provincial town you begged to stay away from. but when you come face-to-face with the reliable village co-chief, jacob bae, you learn that your stay won’t be so pleasant after all.
genre/warnings ➵ childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn, slice of life, angst, slight fluff!, afab reader (they/them pronouns), hurt/comfort, flashbacks, being lost (and trying to figure things out) in your late 20s, a lot of trauma that stem from mommy issues (tiger moms :')), themes of grief, forgiveness, and pressure to succeed, quitting your job & lying to everyone out of shame, realizing you have grown out of your hometown, ju haknyeon is your lovely best friend, jacob bae has issues with you </3, you two also work together, use of nicknames, alludes to someone's death, depictions of panic attacks
word count ➵ 8.2k words
parts ➵ check out the series masterlist
taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @tbzhub
a/n ➵ SHE'S DONE!!! SHE'S OUT!!! EARLY RELEASE YUP!!!! needed this out just to give me time to work on the fic exchange event </3 please be patient for the other parts (there will be more jacob and reader interaction </3) this is very slow burn so i hope you guys will stick with me all throughout! i hope you all enjoy! i would really appreciate it if you could take the time to reblog this (even if it's in your tbr!)
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! main masterlist
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The first steps you take are ones you don’t remember; the first time you managed to stand on your own two feet in front of your parents, the first words you say to your dad—poopy—as he changed your diapers, even the first book you read to yourself. (It’s The Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister, though you probably didn’t understand the string of words at the time)
Yet, within the four corners of your mind, a cardboard box labeled “do not throw” sits by one of them. It stores fractions of moments that’ll never get lost in a hole that time continues to shovel down; your first day in kindergarten where you scraped your knee from playing, and the first friend made in your first years of school who you cannot help but think about until now.
But most of all, you’ll never forget the aspirations that propelled you to where you stand today. The desire to be good—great, even—so that you could prove that you are capable never seemed to dwindle. And no matter all the times the ambition felt like it would slip from your fingertips, you gripped it tighter than ever, forming calluses all over. You couldn’t allow yourself to settle for less. You had to prove yourself to someone—one who underestimates while expecting everything from you.
It’s funny; a monologue about determination and pride only for you to stand in your apartment littered with boxes filled with household items, ready to move out of busy Seoul. You stand in the middle of the mess, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes scan through the items that need to be packed and sold.
“Appa, I’m sorry again for causing you trouble,” you whisper.
A chuckle sounds out from the other end of the line. “What’re you sorry for? I’m happy that you’re coming back home!” You sigh as you sit down on your couch. It’ll be the last time you ever get to sit on it until you move tomorrow.
“I swear, I’ll be back on my feet soon enough. It’s just that,” you try to keep your heart at bay. “HR is forcing me to use my vacation days, and rent here is impossible without me doing work.” The lie leaves your mouth like how you practiced it over the past weeks.
You couldn’t stand to break your dad’s heart with the truth. The child who should’ve succeeded had turned into an unemployed individual. Who would’ve expected that you, out of all people, would quit your job? It paid well and kept you afloat amid Seoul, and you wonder why you did that in the first place.
Now, you stand between crossroads without any road signs. Without a clue of which track to thread on, you take steps back rather than moving forward. You were supposed to reach another height your father could commemorate. Instead, you’re back in the town you grew up in—the place you’ve grown to hate, the one you abandoned for the right reasons—and you can only imagine the disappointment that will coat your father’s face as he has to shelter you once more.
The brown container that sits in the corner of your mind doesn’t only store the trinkets that are in good shape—it holds novelties that bring sorrow. No matter how many times you wish you could chuck it down the endless hole, these tangible fragments always land back in the box as if they never left. The case can never be thrown away; there’s nothing you can do but leave it as is, stirring away from it as much as you can.
“I really don’t mind. I mean, it’s been years since I last saw you,” your dad says, and you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek.
“Still, I’m sorry I sprung this on you last minute.” Your eyes land on a picture frame that hangs on the wall. A picture of you and your coworkers during one of the team buildings; it’s your favorite memory with them. “I would’ve asked my friends if they could help me out but they didn’t have the space to accommodate me.”
This time, you were telling the truth. Kim Namjoon from Production and Kang Seulgi from Marketing, your friends from your old job, didn’t have enough room for you in their respective places. You didn’t want to inconvenience them with your troubles, anyway. Ultimately, it’s your fault for leaving your job after all, and it’s not your friends' responsibility to take care of you.
“Y/N,” your father starts. “I said it’s fine. I’m happy to take you back because I miss you.” You pout at his words. Although you had the right reasons to leave home, you felt bad that you abandoned him as well. You two tried to stay in touch through short calls you managed to squeeze into your busy schedules, but you know that it could never replace the comfort of physical presence.
“Appa,” you whine out as you lean back on the couch, the leather squeaking against the friction. “I miss you, too,” your dad chuckles on the other end of the line; it’s a sound you haven’t heard in a while.
As you stare at the opened boxes, you let out a sigh. “Appa, I’ll have to go. I still need to finish packing and sending some items away.” He hums in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you by next week, okay?”
“I’ll pick you up from the station.”
You chuckle before saying, “Appa, it’s fine. I still know my way around town.”
“Still! I want to help you out with your luggage, and the town has changed a bit since you last visited for—”
“I get it,” you cut him off. He doesn’t say anything after that. “I’ll figure it out. I want you to focus on your restaurant, okay?” He only hums. 
A beat passes. You’re about to say something until he beats you to it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“Appa, it’s fine.” The tone is convincing, but you two knew about the sensitive issue that he almost touched on. A sigh leaves your lips. “I mean it, okay? You don’t have to worry.” The last thing you wanted is for your dad to worry about you again; he’s done enough of that while you were still under his care.
“But I’ll always worry about you because I care. You know that, right?” You bite the inside of your cheek, letting out a hum. Your dad sighs before saying, “Okay, I’ll let you go now. I’m sure you have a lot of things to do.”
You smile to yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, Appa.”
“Bye, Gyul-ah.”
Warmth spreads to your heart. It’s been a while since you heard him call you that—mandarin orange. To you and him, clementines and tangerines looked and tasted the same, no matter what other people tried to convince you of their differences. The fruits were staples in your childhood home, always peeled and ready to eat.
“Bye, Appa.” The call drops. You move your phone to the side before letting out a sigh. You look at the mess that surrounds you. It’s tough work but one that must be done. You’re staying there for two weeks, and you’ll return to your life in Seoul right after. You’ll be able to find a job within that time frame, right?
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Six years ago—that was the last time you visited this town. In your time away, it still looks the same. Unlike Seoul, the sky isn’t polluted by the exhaust from cars or the blaring lights of every skyscraper. Puffy white clouds contrast the bright blue.
The sounds of cicadas fill your ears, and the heat pierces your skin. God, you remember why you disliked staying here, and it wasn’t just from the minor issues. So many reasons to leave, and yet, you’re back here with no choice.
A sigh leaves you as you step out of the train. The station looks the same as the last time you left; rust covers the arms of benches, the clock still ticks slower than the one on your wrist, and leaves are scattered all over the floor. You notice only a few passengers have gotten off this stop (five people including you) and you only wonder what business they have here.
Nothing is interesting about where you grew up. It’s a rural area; the fields of fruits and vegetables, a small communal market at the center of town, and only around 200 residents living in this area. It’s a small town—what could’ve changed over the years?
You step out of the station, luggage trailing behind you, and you bump into the busy community. In their arms were crates of produce; vegetables, fruits, eggs, you name it. The faces that passed you were familiar ones, but no one seemed to recognize you. Maybe you grew out of your 18-year-old self. And you expect to feel a sense of relief take over—you have finally grown out of your past—but you feel more displaced than ever.
But before you can dwell on it, you hear someone call your name. The voice is familiar, one you haven’t heard in ages, and your eyes land on a boy—your first friend back in kindergarten. Your heart soars at how much he’s grown. He comes rushing to you with a crate of oranges and drops it as soon as he stands in front of you.
“Juhak,” the nickname leaves your lips, a smile following.
Before you know it, he brings you into a hug; it’s one you haven’t felt in years. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” He smells of citrus, probably from the fruits he was handling. The scent reminds you of home; tangerines and clementines in every corner, unpeeled and ready to consume. Your arms wrap around him, your face snuggling into his shoulder, and you breathe him in—almost to make up for all the years spent separated.
Ten years ago—that was the last time you saw your childhood friend, Ju Haknyeon. The difference between him when you first left versus now isn’t stark. Long gone is his fluffy hair, and a short fringe is what he sports. He’s grown a few inches taller, and he’s definitely gotten more muscle on him. But baby fat still fills his cheeks, and he flashes you a toothy grin; it’s a Juhak signature. In this man, a part of your best friend still resides.
“I—wow, I don’t even know what to say,” he says as he rests his hands on his hips, taking in the sight of you. “Can’t believe you’re dressed up like that.” The chuckle that leaves his lips has you rolling your eyes. Clothed in a pair of jeans whose material seems hotter than fleece and a long-sleeved shirt, you were not dressed for this type of heat. This outfit is normal back in Seoul, even something you would wear during summer, but you’ve forgotten how different the heat is back here.
“Sorry, didn’t know there was a dress code.” It’s laced with sarcasm, and Haknyeon snorts. You pull on your collar, letting the air pass and graze your skin. You smile at him. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” Haknyeon gulps down nothing. It’s a habit of his—swallowing nothing whenever he couldn’t find the right words to say. You’re almost shocked at how his antics are still the same even ten years later.
Silence takes over. In those few seconds, you two allow for it to settle. You two couldn’t believe you’d finally set foot back into this town, and the joy of reuniting with an old friend shifts into discomfort. The reality sinks in—you abandoned your best friend without any notice. 
You divert your gaze to the ground. In your peripheral vision, you spot him picking up the crate. “I, uhm,” you fix your posture, back straight as you stare back at him. A gentle smile rests on his lips, and you’re only reminded of how shitty you were to leave this town with no way to contact you. “I’m—yeah, I don’t even know where to start.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m assuming you're on your way to Abeoji.” He glances at the luggage behind you. As you hum, he says, “I’ll go with you.”
Your eyes widen at his offer, taking a glimpse at the crate he holds. “What about work?” 
“Lucky for you, I just need to drop this off at the market and then we can go.” He flashes you a smile, and you nod, accepting his request and hauling your luggage as you walk side-by-side with him.
As you two make your way to the center, you take in the features of the town. The buildings are shorter than the skyscrapers in Seoul, reaching only two levels high. There were marts selling different products; school supplies, ingredients, amenities, you name it. In every establishment, it would be filled with people who know each other. No matter who you passed, every store clerk had a relationship with the customers, and every customer seemed to know the other shoppers as well. It’s a tight-knit community, you always knew that, but it still amazes you that such an attitude persists after your disappearance.
“Here we are,” Haknyeon says, causing you to halt your steps. “This won’t take long.” Before you know it, he enters the establishment. The store clerk’s expression instantly brightens at the sight of him. As you watch the two interact through the glass window, your heart is enveloped in warmth. It feels similar to the glow in a fireplace—toasty enough to bring you comfort until your hand is too close to the source, leaving a mark that can only be soothed by cold water. The sight shows that Haknyeon is doing well, but it’s enough to remind you of what you missed out on during your absence.
He makes his way out of the store, hands-free, and grins at you. “Well, ready to visit Abeoji?” You nod before walking to your dad’s restaurant. You two make your way out of the center, entering the quieter parts of town. The chatter turns into mumbles and the buzzing of cicadas takes over.
“So, Abeoji renovated the restaurant,” Haknyeon starts. You glance at him before letting your eyes trail back to the path you take.
“Really? How different does it look?” Your dad never mentioned this. Even when you came back to visit six years ago, you were unaware of such plans. But you remember that you two never talk (and you mean actually talk). In your phone calls, it was always small talk—Hi, Appa. Are you doing well? Okay, I’ll ask the same question tomorrow. Bye—and never about what occurred in your separate lives.
“It’s nicer. It still has a wood interior, the chairs, the tables, you know.” You hum at what he says, glad to know that it won’t be too different from the restaurant you grew up with. “But the kitchen is a lot nicer and not as cramped. It’s still small and cozy. Your dad added sleeping quarters to the back.” You look at Haknyeon but he only looks straight, eyes still on the track you two take. 
His revelation made you wonder how much your father had to face all while you were gone. All while you were off in Seoul barely getting by, you can only imagine what your dad must’ve gone through. The waves crash against your heart, dragging it into the sea of black and consuming it as if it were nothing. Did you even have a heart if you abandoned everyone ten years ago?
He meets your gaze, a grin on his lips. “I’m so glad to see that you’re back!” You smile back at him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you back? Does Abeoji have a problem?” His question isn’t meant to be invasive. Out of all people, Haknyeon knew how to respect your boundaries. You wish you could tell him the truth—you’re unemployed and you have nowhere to go but here. And yet…
“Oh, I’m on leave.” His eyebrows raise in shock. “My company told me I need to use my vacation days. It’s part of the policy, you know.” The only truth that stands is that your old company did require you to use those allotted days; it’s their way of ensuring that they aren’t overworking their employees.
“Wow! Didn’t know city life was that progressive,” Haknyeon laughs. “I would’ve gone to Seoul if I knew that.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “I just got lucky with my company. Work is still work, you know?” He hums along. “I’m guessing you still work with your parents?” It’s a fair assumption considering his family has one of the more giant fruit farms in town.
“Yup!” His eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be taking over the business once Appa retires.” You forget how much Haknyeon enjoys this place. Never once do you remember him ever considering a life in the city, away from the noisy cicadas and troublesome flies. All he needs is found here.
“How’s the city?”
You hum, thinking about where to start. “Everything is cramped but far apart,” you chuckle as you shake your head. “The buildings are so close together but you need to commute to get around, and it’s hard to travel during rush hour.”
Haknyeon scrunches his nose. “That sounds awful.” You nod. “But I’m sure your friends helped you out in adjusting.” He meant to say it with sincerity but the tone is like ice water being thrown at you—a reality check of what you had done to him. You know of your sin—it’ll be one you need to repent for.
You two finally arrive in front of a small building, one that resembles a house. The roof used to be crimson with splotches of black, and the walls were once off-white. But the new look of your dad’s restaurant is a sight to behold; a cream-colored roof and walls painted in basil green with potted plants littered at the front.
“Well, here we are!” Your eyes snap back to Haknyeon. He holds the same smile he first shot when he spotted you in the crowd. “How long will you be staying?”
“Around two weeks.” That’s what you hope.
“That’s good to hear! We should catch up while you’re still here.” Knowing him, this isn’t an empty request; it’s one that you must fulfill. So you nod, smiling before making your way to the door. Your hand rests on the knob; you don’t know if you should turn it.
“There’ll be a party by the community hall tomorrow.” You gaze at him. He stands afar, chest open with a gashed heart. It bears the marks of your fingertips; he still hands it to you. “Your dad is coming, and I’m sure everyone else would love to meet you.” 
It’s Haknyeon’s attempt to involve you with the community once more—to give you a reason to stay—but it won’t be enough. Melancholy fills the air. The repulsive stench clings to every corner of town—only you can smell it—and that scent accompanies your sins; they take form in the faces of those you know. You didn’t want to be face-to-face with the one person you’ve disappointed the most.
“I’ll see.” It’s a whisper, one that signifies your hesitation. You’re sure he knows what that phrase means; it never changed during your years away. But he settles for a smile, not bothering to convince you otherwise. The ball is in your courtside, and it’s your choice on what you want to do with it.
“I’ll see you, okay?”
You nod and twist the doorknob, and the bells chime as it signals your arrival. “Bye.” A final glance and grin are what you spare him before you enter the restaurant. And when you close the door behind you, you realize that it’s not only the outside that carries the stench. Within these four walls, the scent is accompanied by murky waves. Every part of this town floods you with nothing but misery.
Picture frames litter the walls; photographs of the community, the sceneries of town, and artworks from unknown artists. Some you recognize back in the days you stayed here after class but others were new. In a sea of potted plants that hang from the ceiling, incandescent bulbs glow within the expanse of green. You once remember the lack of greenery in this restaurant. But the chairs and table are the same ones from then, their wood getting discolored with age. You’re almost sure you can find your old carvings if you spend time looking for them.
Every corner of this restaurant held a piece of the past amongst the new—a part of what you’re familiar with within the abundance of the unfamiliar—but these do nothing to drive away the stench. If anything, the scent intensifies. A face mask cannot do anything to keep you from smelling it. You’re only left to suck it in and plague you with memories you’ve pushed down. 
“Gyul-ah!” Your father comes in, a grin on his face. There are more lines on his face, a sign that he has gotten older over the time you were gone, and you are glad to witness him at this age. Not many people can say they’ve seen their parent’s hair turn white and wrinkles get deeper. The sight of him is enough to twist the valves, almost turning on the waterworks, but you keep your hand firm on the knobs. Today, you weren’t going to allow yourself to cry.
But you run to him, leaving your luggage by the front door, and wrap your arms around him. You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in for the first time in six years, and he embraces you. He smells of baby powder, the same brand you used back when he took care of you, and you realize that he keeps parts of the past to hold pieces of you. You can only imagine how much you’ve grown since he last saw you.
You grin at him when your head finally leaves the space between his neck and shoulder. You two untangle yourselves from each other. For a moment, you let yourselves bathe in each other’s presence; it’s a miracle after all.
“You continue to grow and become more beautiful with time,” he starts, his hand reaching out to your shoulder. He draws circles, almost as if he’s trying to process your presence. “But I know the child in you still lives,” he attempts to come to terms with how he barely knows you, but you won’t disagree—not this time, at least.
“Appa, I love what you did with the place. How come you never mentioned it?”
He shakes his head, retracting his hand from you. “Ah, it’s nothing. We’re busy with our own lives, so I didn’t want to trouble you with the details.” It’s a direct strike on your heart, but it’s the truth. “But I’m glad that you’re here to see it yourself. It makes the reveal a lot more authentic.”
“Yeah.” You bite the inside of your cheek.
“I’d love to catch up, but I need to prepare and open the restaurant,” he sighs before making his way to the door, flipping the sign that once said “closed” to “open.” “My employee will be late, so I’ll need to work extra hard for the time being.”
You frown. “Late? Why?” You quickly make your way to grab the luggage and drag it to the counter where the cashier is. “Let me help out.” You didn’t give him time to share the reason. 
“No, it’s okay,” your dad’s attempt to reassure you does nothing. His gaze rests on you as he slowly approaches where you stand. “You should settle from your long journey. I’m sure the ride was exhausting.”
“Appa, I only sat in the train for a few hours, and during the ride I was asleep. I want to help.” Before he knows it, you’re already dragging your luggage to the back of the restaurant.
“At least put your things in the quarters!”
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The last time you worked in your dad’s restaurant was ten years ago. Back then, you used to work with the cashier and clean dishes. But when you are left to handle all those tasks and tend to customers while your father focuses on cooking, it feels impossible. As the hand of the clock strikes 2:00 p.m., customers have made their way out of the restaurant. You can finally catch your breath.
Your dad exits the kitchen, spotting you leaning on the counter. “It’s nice to see that you still have it within you.” He doesn’t mean to mock you, you know that, but the sting of his words is still felt. Years spent in Seoul will never diminish the skills you learned from working under your father.
“How do you even manage? I mean, with you and your employee?”
He sighs. You watch him wipe the clean dishes and set them aside. “I like what I do, no matter how difficult it may be.” His gaze is affixed on you.
It strikes a chord within you. You spent six years in your old job, so indeed you must’ve enjoyed what you did, right? And yet, you stand in front of your father, a pitiful case that he’ll have to tend to once more.
You clear your throat. “Appa, you’re getting old. Don’t you want to rest?”
“No,” he chortles. “I want to keep running this restaurant until I can barely move. I’ll know when to let this place go.” He walks to the space beside you and grabs hold of your hand. The hand that changed your diapers and cooked your meals has aged. He’s spent so many years taking care of you; there’ll never be a good way to thank him for everything.
“I’ll have you stay in the old house,” he starts. Your grip on his hand grows tighter. “I’m not ready to go back there, so I’ve been sleeping here.”
A beat passes.
“Since when?”
“Six years ago.” He looks at you. “But I’ve been able to enter that house again. I just don’t sleep there. Don’t worry about the dust. My employee and I clean the place every week.” You’re not worried at all about the mess. It’s the stench that clings to the furniture, the murky water that floods the place, the spiders that crawl over the walls, the remnants of her. Those four walls only fuel your nightmares; ironically, you call them such when they’ve all been real.
So you want to tell him—no, beg him to let you stay here. You couldn’t walk into that house for it will have you relive fractions of your trauma. If you couldn’t enter that house six years ago, what difference would four years later make?
The bells chime, and your eyes land on the person who enters the restaurant. Foggy waves clash against you in full force, and the air is knocked out of your lungs. There he is, dressed in a baggy teal shirt and denim shorts. A few strands of hair hang in front of his forehead; it’s different from the old bowl-cut hair he used to have back in high school. But most of all, he’s grown up—not only out of his baby face but even in figure, aura.
A polite smile once rested on his lips. He looked ready to greet your father, almost ready to say hello to you, until he realized who stood beside his boss. The smile dissipates. Suddenly, time stills; it’s almost as if it worked under his command.
Under his gaze, you cannot help but shrink back to your 18-year-old self—the one who spent countless nights wondering what it would be like to be face-to-face with their best friend after abandoning them. And now that you’re finally in the situation you’ve spent days imagining, figuring out how to gain his trust again, you’re not sure what to say.
Jacob Bae—the home you sought out during your years growing up. (He still is, no matter how hard you try to dissociate that from him.) But now, he embodies your fears. The smell of tangerines is mixed with the repulsive stench—he’s turned into the house you ran away from ten years back.
Jacob’s expression shifts back to a polite smile as he looks at your father. “Abeoji, I’m sorry I’m late!” His nonchalant stride made the situation unpalatable. With every step taken towards your dad, an arrow is shot through your heart. It’s almost as if he didn’t care about what happened between you two (should he when you were the one who caused the rift?). His shoulder faces you all while he talks to your father; it’s a clear sign of what your relationship has turned into. Despite this space being one you grew up in, you’ve become an intruder. You have revoked your spot in this restaurant, this town.
“Don’t worry about it,” your dad says as he grips Jacob’s shoulder. “I hope all went well in the community center.”
Jacob smiles at him, and says, “Yeah, we got it settled. We’re just finalizing things for tomorrow.”
Your father hums as he glances at you. “Why don’t you bring back Y/N?” Your eyebrows shoot up. “They’ll need help getting settled in.” You shake your head at him, but he refuses to acknowledge your silent protest.
“Appa, I’m sure you’ll need him here,” you chuckle as your eyes glance to the back of Jacob’s head. “I can figure it out. I’ve lived there anyway; 18 years long, to be specific.” Jacob’s going to say no; you expect it. And yet…
“Okay.” 
Your eyes widen. He proves you wrong—you don’t know him after all.
“Alright! Go get your stuff Gyul-ah,” your dad says as he wraps his arm around Jacob’s shoulders. And for once, Jacob looks at you. You cannot pinpoint the emotion across his features.
You nod at your father’s words and make your way to the back of the restaurant. Your heartbeat rings in your ears. Years spent imagining what to say to Jacob didn’t prepare you enough to face the actual situation. Once you gather your things, you leave the sleeping quarters. Your dad’s chortle bounces off the four walls, probably from a joke he made. And then you catch a glimpse of Jacob’s smile; it’s still sweet as you remember it. You’re suddenly back to your 17-year-old self.
Then, his eyes land on you. The smile vanishes. He stares right at you (you mean really stares at you, a long one for the matter) for the first time since he arrived. So you clear your throat, hoping that he will be the first one to break eye contact—he doesn’t. Your dad spins to face you. “Ah! Okay, I’ll see you.” You watch Jacob nod all while he keeps his gaze fixed on you.
For once, you let your ego take the hit; you avert your eyes and make your way to the door. You two leave, and Jacob doesn’t give you a moment to think. He grabs your luggage from you and finds his spot beside you. And you were going to comment—I can handle it myself—but he keeps his eyes forward; you decide to do the same.
Instead of walking on the dirt trail path, you’re walking on eggshells. You’re not sure what to say to clear the silence. Unbeknownst to you, he can sense your awkward nature. Hands fiddling with the strap of your shoulder bag and gaze fixed on their feet; your antics remain the same after all these years.
“How long will you be staying?” Your eyes snap up only to see him continue to look at the path.
You clear your throat, afraid your voice might crack. “Two weeks.” He only hums. You two fall back into silence.
It’s weird to think about it; the same guy who you once treated as your best friend since childhood—the same one whom you’ve poured your heart to—is now someone you barely know. You grew up with him and stuck with him from your elementary days until your high school ones. Ten years apart can change so much between those who once swore to stay in each other’s lives.
You two finally arrive in front of the old house, your old house. Everything is in shape; the windows are crystal clear and the paint is intact. It’s just like how you first left it. A storm brews within you; you despise it. After all these years, you still can’t escape the horrors of this house.
“Here,” Jacob says and raises the keys. You open your hand, allowing him to drop it into your palm. “Your boxes are inside, they arrived a few days ago. I also cleaned out the place.” You only nod. He glances at the luggage he holds and asks, “Do you need help settling in?” You shake your head which has him nodding. He hands you your luggage. “Okay.” You take it from him.
Before you know it, he turns away from you. He only takes a few steps but it feels like he’s gone distances away from you. And you’re afraid you’ll let him slip away like last time.
“Cobie!” It’s the first time you’ve said that nickname since you last saw him. He freezes. You’re not even sure if you had the right to call him that. He looks back at you, and his furrowed eyebrows say enough. “Sorry, I meant,” you close your eyes for a moment. “It slipped.” It’s an honest mistake, but you’re sure he’s not pleased by it.
He turns back to you, walking until he stands directly in front of you. He doesn’t say anything, only looking at you with the same expression. “Do you want to come in?” His expression falters.  “Maybe just to catch up.” It’s a small step but still one to begin with. Maybe you’ll figure out what to say to him within those four walls for they have you at your most vulnerable state; it’s the doing of the ghost that haunts the building.
The Jacob you knew would hear you out after all these years. He’d be defensive but still accept the offer. Cobie—no, Jacob always found comfort in answers, closure. And yet….
“No,” he answers. Your eyebrows jump in shock, and he notices. “I’d prefer not to. Good luck with unpacking.” And before you know it, he takes his leave. You watch his figure become smaller with every step he takes. He’s slipping away from your fingertips; there’s nothing you can do for he would only free himself from your grasp.
The waves are strong enough to tip your balance. You do everything to stand on your own feet. The image of Jacob you drew on the sand has been washed off—it’s your fault for drawing it too close to the shore. 
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Autumn makes its way here; the scent of rotting leaves, bruised fruits that fall from trees, and the breeze that hits your cheeks. You stand under a tree whose branches are perched with twig nests. They hold flocks of birds, ready to keep themselves warm during the season. The birds huddle up and chirp away tunes—they remind you of what you don’t have.
Then, a swingset creaks, and you are snapped out of your trance. A few meters away from you is a playground, one you don’t get to play in as much as you’d like, and in the middle of it a boy who looks down to the floor. He grips the rope with his blue sweater hands but doesn’t bother to swing.
With nowhere to go, your feet bring you to him. He pays no attention to you for he doesn’t notice you. But suddenly, he hears the rustling from the swing beside him. And when his eyes drift upwards, he finds you, seated and eyes trained on him. It’s surreal to him; to be graced by the talk amongst his classmates, the kid whose father runs a staple within the town. He doesn’t know what to say, but you don’t allow him to worry.
“Does your mom go to school like you?” He’s perplexed by your question. How did you know of him and his mother? “I see you two going to school together, always thirty minutes before classes start.”
He nods. “Yeah,” his voice is shaky. “She’s a teacher.”
“That’s cool!” Interest is evident in your tone. You move the swing side-to-side, going against the direction it typically goes. “Do you like her there?” Your eyes remain on him, and heat rises to his cheeks. He’s already shy, to begin with, and your stare only has his heart running. 
And he would’ve settled with nonverbal responses, either shaking or nodding his head, but he’s not sure what compels him to answer. “I do,” he whispers, a shy smile on his face. He looks away from you, afraid to look back at you. “I like seeing her.”
He hears you hum for a moment. Then, silence settles between you two.
He thinks he should say more. Maybe he should tell you of all the trips his mom would take to the faculty’s cafeteria whose food is to die for. But when he glances at you, he sees your hands preoccupied with peeling a fruit—a tangerine. Stubby, nimble fingers peel the rind off, exposing its orange-colored flesh covered in strings of white. “I wish I could say the same.” A sigh follows with a bittersweet smile.
He watches you tear a piece, and suddenly, your eyes meet his. You raise it to him, the bittersweet smile now replaced with a genuine one, and say, “Have one.” His eyes dart back and forth between you and the flesh you hold in between your fingers, and you can’t help but giggle. “There’s nothing to be scared of.” And when he sees your smile—feels the warmth you emit in the middle of autumn—all worries slip away.
He grabs the tangerine slice and eats it. With just one bite, the juice bursts in his mouth; the citrus taste coats his tongue. A grin is on his face as he chews away.
“Eomma taught me how to peel tangerines,” you start. “She says I’m getting old, and that I should learn how to do it myself.” He looks at you only to see your eyes staring off to nowhere. How can you be old when you’re only ten years old? He didn’t even know how to peel fruits himself. 
“But it’s okay. Not a lot of kids knew how to peel tangerines.” It’s almost as if you could hear his thoughts; he didn’t know if he should be petrified or amazed. Such a difficult task and you knew how to do it—perhaps his mom didn’t teach him how to do it so that he could meet you. 
Before you know it, a woman grabs onto your arm. Your eyes snap towards her. “What did I tell you about walking off?!” Her tone is harsh. He doesn’t know what to say.
You are pulled to stand up. As the woman drags you away, you glance at him. “I’ll see you in school, Cobie!” He never told you his name, and yet, you found the perfect nickname for him. As your mom tugs you away from him, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Perhaps autumn brought you what you needed the most.
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Ever since Jacob denied your offer, you weren’t sure how to act around him. He worked in your dad’s restaurant, and you offered to help them prepare for the party. It’s awkward, that’s for sure, and your dad could notice it. (Though, he never bothered to comment.) But you watch him all the way from the other side of the communal area, observing how he talks to an unfamiliar face.
“How are you enjoying your vacation?” Your eyes dart to where your father is. You’re sure he saw you looking at Jacob, but you can only hope he won’t bring it up.
You sigh as you carry a steel tray filled with kimchi. “Boring, really.” He only shows you an apologetic smile. “I like to work, you know me...”
He hums. “You know, it’s important to take time to rest.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you set the tray down on the table. “I’d be happy if you choose to stay.” To your father, it seemed like you being on leave (or you guess unemployed) would be the only way to have you stay here. You don’t blame him for wanting to try for you know it comes from a place of love, concern, yearning. But even ten years later, you still cannot find a reason to stay here.
“Appa,” you turn to face him. The apologetic smile is now replaced with pleading eyes—it’s hope. “I don’t like not doing anything, you of all people know that.” You’re a motor, one that needs to remain on, and feels the urge to always be on the go. Call it being a workaholic, you couldn’t stand the idea of not doing anything related to work.
And before your father can say anymore, a booming voice sounds throughout the venue. “Jacob! Sangyeon!” Your eyes snap to see Haknyeon hugging the two. Before you know it, his eyes settle on you. “And Y/N!” He rushes to you with a grin on his face. “You decided to show up after all!”
“Well, I want to help Appa out,” you chuckle.
“Abeoji, let me help, too!” Despite what your father says, Haknyeon walks off to grab some more trays.
Your dad sighs. “Haknyeon, always the one helping out.” A grin rests on your lips. He’s still the same boy you know after all. At least some things remain the same.
Before you know it, night comes, and the venue is filled with more residents. Most of them knew each other, talking amongst themselves as they filled their stomachs with food your dad made; it was a sight to behold. But most of all, you can remember the expression on some of their faces when they recognized who you were.
“It’s been forever!”
“You’ve grown up well! What do you do now?”
“You’re back? Since when?”
Admittedly, most of them weren’t expecting your return. You couldn’t disagree with them; you thought the same as well. After all, you moved all your things to Seoul. Still, the people who saw you grow up here were happy to see that you’ve come back, even if it may be for a few weeks. (That’s if you find a job in time.) But even in a sea of familiar faces, you feel out of place. Ten years spent refusing to contact any of them; it’s only expected that your absence would have you as the odd one out.
And you thought you would be okay with it, for you know that you’ll be going back to Seoul anyway. It’s okay if you’ve lost a home in this town for there was none to begin with anyway—no, there was. It would be wrong to say that there’s no trace of home here when the one person who provided you with that for eight years stands on the other side of the venue. He talks to Haknyeon, Sangyeon, and other faces you didn’t know the names of. The smile plastered on his face is one you haven’t received in a long time.
The waves crash against you; they tip your balance and drag your body into the unknown waters. And suddenly, the murky liquid fills your lungs. The bulbs that hang above you become streaks of yellow, and the ringing in your ears tunes out the music and chatter of residents. And before you know it, your feet are taking you elsewhere—anywhere—so long as it’s far from here.
You’re not sure how long you’ve spent walking, or what path you took. All you know is that you’re back here at the playground—the same one you first met Jacob. You find yourself seated on the same swing; it’s definitely smaller but you make it work. The thumping of your heart is all you can hear, and your eyes shut close. A shaky breath leaves you.
Swing. Chain. Steel. Tray. Silver. Jewelry. Sapphire. Blue. Water. Sand. Sun. Warmth. Home—Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. It always goes back to him. Your eyes peel open and they settle on the red slide a few meters away from you.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Slide. Red. Plastic. Short.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. You repeat the action.
The palpitations start to subside, and you can hear your breath become steady. Your brain is exhausted. Today, the waves were stronger—you can only hope the current dies down.
“Why are you here?” Your heart jumps at the sudden voice. As you look at where it comes from, you see Jacob whose hands are tucked in his pockets. His expression is laced with some emotion—you can’t pinpoint it. 
With his eyes staring back at yours, you can’t help but feel the need to spill it all out—fears, worries, the ugly truth about you. Maybe it’s the effects of your recent attack that have you in your most vulnerable state, but all you know is that you would do anything to go back to the way things used to be. All you want is to find that piece of home in this godforsaken town.
But your silence is enough to make a frown appear on his eyebrows, and you remember that this isn’t the Jacob you first knew. In front of you is a distant one—the realistic version of the house you’ve run away from—and you’re snapped back to your hardened state.
“I didn’t know we were talking.” The tone is harsh; the venom laced with your words shocks you. You notice how Jacob flinches at your response, and you wish you could take it back—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that—but he doesn’t allow you to talk.
“Fine, I’ll leave you alone.” He tongues the inside of his cheek. “I don’t even know why I bothered following you here,” he mumbles; it strikes a chord within you, and you stand up.
“What’s with you? Why do you suddenly have this attitude with me?” Your frown gets deeper with every question you throw at him. Jacob used to struggle with his anger issues, you know that, but he found ways to resolve it around middle school. Jacob, who used to have a short fuse, turned into one who knew how to control his patience; it seemed like he lost that control over your years away. The boy in front of you almost seems like the version you first knew all while being one you had no clue—a living oxymoron. “I mean, what did I do to deserve this?”
With that one question, something in him snaps. The frown gets deeper, and his hands leave his pockets. “Are you seriously asking me that?” He crosses his arms. “How do you expect me to talk to you after what you did? To someone who just got up and left?” Your face starts to relax, and you only stare at him—the one boy you’ve upset and disappointed the most.
“Y/N, you left with no message!” His hand reaches out to his face, covering his mouth for a moment as he looks away. “You didn’t even bother to keep in touch! How can you change your number right after leaving?” His eyes meet yours; they’re filled with anger, frustration, regret. “I can’t believe you would throw years of friendship away.”
Thunder sounds within you. “Jacob, you of all people know why I left,” you scoff. “Don’t make this about you. I had every reason to leave and you know it, so don’t try to turn this whole situation about you.”
An exasperated sigh leaves him. “You can’t just come back here, ten years later, and expect me to be okay! I have every right to be upset by your disappearance.” He clenches his teeth. “You didn’t even say goodbye!”
“I didn’t have the choice—”
“No, you always have the choice. Don’t try to play that card with me right now.”
Lightning strikes within you; it rumbles and shakes the ground. The river moves at a rapid speed, enough to leave bruises if you were to dip your feet into it. And the fire within you continues to grow, causing everything to erupt into flames. It didn’t matter if Jacob was right or wrong—all you know is that you’re upset with him.
“Fine. If you don’t want to talk to me without being pissy about it, then let’s not talk. I’m going home.” His angered expression falters. “Handle the party yourself.” Before he knows it, you take your leave. It’s possibly the worst thing you could do. You knew they were low on manpower, but you could care less about anyone, about him, for the matter.
With your back turned towards him, you walk to the house you were forced to stay in. And with every step, the sea level rises. The walk back is a tough journey; every step in high levels of water makes it difficult. And when you stand in front of the building that reeks of a scent only you can smell, you wish the water would fill your lungs and submerge your body—it’ll take you away from this place, after all. In this town, not a single trace of home exists.
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juyeonszn · 6 months
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COME THRU — TEN
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PAIRING ✻ ji changmin x f!reader
SUMMARY ✻ as a weed plug, changmin has had his fair share of clients. some were funny, some were weird, some were rude, some were nice. but none of them have ever been you, that much is apparent when you start buying from him and suddenly he’s falling for his new client’s pretty smile.
MORE ✻ i got really high last night and watched markiplier play fnaf help wanted 2 and that shit kept freaking me out 😭😭😭 0/10 do not recommend
↶*ೃ✧˚. ✻ ↷ ˊ-↶*ೃ✧˚. ✻ ↷ ˊ-
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TEN — the one where it’s all kim jungwoo’s fault
PREV ✻ NINE — the one with vernon’s discord kitten
NEXT ✻ ELEVEN — the one where changmin is just stupid
MASTERLIST
↶*ೃ✧˚. ✻ ↷ ˊ-↶*ೃ✧˚. ✻ ↷ ˊ-
PERM TAGLIST ✻ @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr
TAGLIST ✻ @mosviqu @luvleejuyo @smiles4jungwon @matchaoreocrepes @millksea @empire-x @blueresides @kumoseiza @tbzhub
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adorablehyunjae · 7 months
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@tbzhub bestie here's your girl dinner.
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wooahaeproductions · 8 months
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Something We Don’t Need
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Min Yoongi x Female Reader
Genre: smut and angst
Word Count: 859
Warnings: complicated feelings, unprotected sex, mentions of oral, a little begging, and kissing
Rating: 18 +
A/N: The second request for Anya @anyamaris. It’s been a very long time since I wrote for BTS so thank you for getting me to do it. I hope this lives up to the concept we both had in mind and I hope you like it! Special thanks to Codi @tbzhub for looking this over and telling me it didn’t suck 😘 ~Bee
One of The Kissing Booth drabbles
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You knew more than likely this would be the last time you and Yoongi would be together, like this at least. You had purposefully ignored how things were gradually changing, not wanting to admit what was happening. You weren’t sure if he had noticed it too, there was certainly no indication if he had.
It didn’t matter right now. You were here, in bed with Yoongi, letting him fuck you until your head was filled with static instead of intruding thoughts. He hovered over you, pushing his dark hair out of the way before latching his mouth onto your unclothed core for the second time that night.
There had been no sweet nothings whispered in your ear. There was a sense of urgency surrounding the two of you and it was amplified when Yoongi shed his pants after only teasing you again for a little while, the bulge in his boxers showing how needy he was.
A part of him wanted to take his time with you, wanted nothing more than to feel in love with you still. The other part of him, the one taking over now, wanted it to be fast; like ripping a bandaid off. He wanted the chaos and frenzy to overtake the melancholy that was seeping into his mind.
You let out a sharp intake of breath as he freed his length and you ran your hands over his chest that was already bare thanks to the fact that you had pulled off his shirt a little earlier. “Like what you see?” Yoongi asked with a smirk, hiding his uncertainty with cockiness. Your nails clawed slightly at the sheets and you bit down on your lip to prevent a moan from spilling out.
He closed the distance between you, letting his hips grind against yours and his tip brushed against your folds. The contact sent shockwaves to your core and the moan you were suppressing left your lips. Yoongi’s chest vibrated as he let out a satisfied chuckle. You were already wet from having his mouth on your clit a short time ago and it allowed him to push himself into you entirely without much resistance.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out as you relished in the feeling of him filling you up.
“Can I move?” he asked, his only pause in the middle of the lust filled atmosphere. You nodded, confirming you were ready for him. That was all he needed, he pulled his hips back and roughly fucked himself into you. It didn’t take long before he picked up the pace and was pulling out as far as he could before pushing his length all the way back into you, hitting just the right spot to make your pleasure build intensely.
You didn’t bother masking your moans and mewls anymore and the groans Yoongi was letting out as he thrusted into you were making you crazy. He pulled you closer to him, allowing him to piston his hips in such a way that made him hit your insides like never before. You let out a different kind of sound, a whimper of sorts and it made you beg for release. “Please, Yoongi.”
“Please? Please what?” he asked. He enjoyed teasing you, he loved the sight of you begging.
“Please make me cum,” you let out a more desperate noise.
“As you wish,” he responded and picked up the pace even more, if that was even possible. He battered your sweet spot, relentless, until the coil in your stomach snapped and you all but screamed his name. Your legs shook hard and you saw stars beneath your eyelids. Not long after you heard Yoongi let out a satisfying groan and you felt his seed spill into you, your core clenching around him as you were still coming down from your high.
He collapsed on the pillow next to you, chest heaving. “Shit,” he murmured with a wry laugh. You weren’t sure how long you two laid next to each other on the bed like that; recovering from your escapades. You were sure the sheets were stained but you couldn’t be bothered. Sleep overcame you.
Some time later, you and Yoongi were awake and had cleaned up. After not kissing you the entire time, he leaned in to kiss you goodbye. His lips pressed against yours, and while it was soft and sweet, it was not filled with passion, lust, or romantic love like it had been before. It felt like kissing a friend. You knew you didn’t feel anything for him anymore and he knew it too. The kiss was a consolation prize, an ‘I love you, but not like that’.
He broke away and looked at you, a resigned look on his face. “Goodbye,” Yoongi whispered. He brushed a hand along your cheek before turning around and walking out the door of your apartment. You felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes even though you knew it was coming, you had just hoped it wouldn’t. And now you were left wondering if he was saying goodbye to that part of your relationship or if he was saying goodbye to you entirely.
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©️wooahaeproductions
All works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works.
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hot-soop · 5 months
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handwritten bias challenge
rules: handwrite your kpop biases. feel free to use the list of groups below, and/or add or subtract any you aren't vibing with.
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ty for tagging me @ugh-yoongi 💛
tagging: @tbzhub @yelhsaart @yoongiphoria @here2bbtstrash @bubbleteakittyy but ofc no pressure bc this is a little bit more effort than a tumblr post 💕
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sleepy-stars-room · 2 years
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to be read
... this will be similar to my radiant read and review series except less formal. It’ll only show the fics to be read as the name suggests. I’ll work on creating their own posts later ! Just needed a place to put them. and as always take these as recs !!
features fics for txt, en- , svt, skz, and tbz
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TOMORROW X TOGETHER
our love in dandelions by @hyuukais​ (beomgyu)
run pt.1 & pt.2 by @loveliestfelix​ (beomgyu)
say goodnight and go by @jjunis​ (yeonjun)
when the ice begins to thaw by @soobmint​ (taehyun)
Soobin’s Story by @tqmies​ (soobin)
the only exception by @byeomtori​ (beomgyu)
tokyo by @beomie3​ (beomgyu)
limelight by @hueningshaped​ (yeonjun)
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ENHYPEN
caught in 4k! by @hinaaspanda​ (sunghoon)
a little liberation by @heetendo​ (jay)
20 days before heaven by @nyanggk​ (heeseung)
the two of us by @iyeonjuni​ (jake)
chantel by @kdyism​ (jay)
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SEVENTEEN
other people’s weddings by @neonun-au​ (seungcheol)
what’s your number by @husbandhoshi​ (vernon)
boo to you, too by @junkissed​ (seungkwan)
Jeonghan’s Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling in Love) by @starsstuddedsky​ (jeonghan)
Feu D'Artifice by @twogyuu​ (vernon)
Darling by @bluehoodiewoozi​ (wonwoo)
saturn without rings by @dropsofletters​ (wonwoo)
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STRAY KIDS
Rule Breaker by @mxxndreams​ (han)
sunshowers in spring by @sulfurcosmos​ (hyunjin)
till the end of time by @etherealinowrites (han)
loveless pt.1 & pt.2 by @xiaotingluvs​ (skz ‘00 liners)
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THE BOYZ
yours truly, by @mieohmy​ (hyunjae)
Because Of You by @letteredwings​ (hyunjae)
Reviving a Broken Heart by @tbzhub​ (hyunjae)
the sea is yours to take by @wavesmp3​ (hyunjae)
stereotype by @hvae​ (juyeon)
If the lipstick matches (maybe don’t wear it) by @jeongjaebae​ (juyeon)
filler by @cloudykyu​ (hyunjae)
it’s okay to not be okay by @cloudykyu​ (hakyeon)
Heartbreak for hire by @jeongjaebae​​ (younghoon)
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i think thats all but enjoyyy reading as I will too and thank you to these writerssss 
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