do you wanna go see the sea tonight?

⭒˚｡AL ✧⋆// (she/her). I put the al in delusional.

[alxdelusional]

More Than Anything

⭒Pairing: Psychology student! Hongjoong x Psychology student! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Exes/ enemies to lovers, fluff, a bit of angst

⭒Synopsis: In finishing a research paper with Kim Hongjoong, someone you despise with a burning passion, the two of you are snowed in at your University's library.

⭒Warnings: Reader has a panic attack of sorts, mentions of a break-up

⭒Al's thoughts: Tumblr's algorithm decided to mess with my Yunho fic but I'm not going to let that affect me so here's our lovely captain. Also this is probably gonna be the last fic i post in a while due to uh, hectic busy things.

⭒Word count: 5.13 K

There were a lot of things you disliked. As a psychology student, any popular or pseudo psychological scams, like psychic mediums and astrology made your blood boil. As a person, things like cockroaches scurrying in the corners of your apartment, and your socks being drenched with fresh rainwater while you trudged around pathetically in them annoyed you. You hate those things with your whole heart. But there was one thing you hated more than any scam that prayed on the empathy of innocent people, any crime, any minor, or major inconvenience. Kim Hongjoong was the man you hated more than anything. You hated his laugh, which was so distinctly his. You hated his charming, toothy grin, hated his smiley eyes. You hated his soft black hair, and his defined jawline. Anything that had to do with him, you hated with a burning passion. You despised Kim Hongjoong, and his entire being. 

But Kim Hongjoong was the man you loved more than anything for two years, before that love was burnt to the ground in a catastrophic blaze a year ago. But you couldn’t blame him for it, because you were the one who lit the fire. You were the one who ended the relationship. You were the reason you hated Kim Hongjoong. You don’t like to think about it that way, though, and you instead blame it on the fact that merely three weeks after you two had broken up, he had a new girl on his shoulder. His smile was different from the way it was with you. Although that relationship didn’t last over a month, it was enough for you to use as a scapegoat. You painted Hongjoong to be an absolute evil in your mind, and somehow managed to convince every fiber of your being to hate him. Of course, you knew that love and hate were closely related, but even making the association of the word ‘love’ and Hongjoong sent shivers crawling down your spine, and you retching. 

As for why you’re in your university’s library, practically tearing your hair out at your research paper that you’ve been working on with Hongjoong? You couldn’t give an answer for that. The two of you somehow ended up taking the same internship, and chose to do a study together. Well, there was no way you were gonna back out of the study, your pride refused to let it happen. You would be willing to deal with him, and even if he did back out, you would feel no offense. But he didn’t either, and knowing his ego, you didn’t expect anything else. So here you were, a few hours before your paper was due, a large stack of hardcover books in front of you, and your annoying co-researcher sitting next to you. Despite your hate for him, you could admit that you and Hongjoong worked together incredibly. He was fast, fiery, as he worked so fast he left a trail of smoke behind him. But he wasn’t perfect, and made mistakes. You were the precise worker, careful, and you caught the errors he made. The two of you were also intellectual equivalents, which often led to tense debates and philosophical discussions between the two of you, which would put your work on halt. But you both shared a fatal flaw, which was procrastination. He always knew that with his fast-paced mind, he could finish the work, no matter how much time he had. And you, due to your fear of imperfection, shoved the work aside until the last minute, until fear took hold of you and forced you to work. You were feeling the effects of your fatal flaws in full intensity tonight, as the two of you scrambled frantically at your computers. There wasn’t much you had to do, just confirm your sources for your discussions of research, but the fact that you sourced from books, manually finding where each quote appeared, and the full details of all the authors, the publishers, and the dates was a living nightmare. It’s 11 PM, and you had to submit your paper in an hour, which would have been light work for you, if Hongjoong didn’t mess up and forget the results of your study in his apartment. You barely registered your leg bouncing frantically as you flipped through the pages of the book in front of you. You mumbled a string of curses under your breath, which was met by a hand on your forearm. You snapped out of your stress-induced trance, to meet Hongjoong’s gaze. It was his classic confident, assured stare, but with a hint of softness. 

“What do you want, Kim,” you said, pronouncing the edge in your voice to make sure he knew your hostility. Hongjoong laughed, disgustingly suave. 

“Calm down, y/n, we have an hour,” you rolled your eyes, shoving his hand off of you gently. 

“Yeah, we have to finish up here, which is gonna take another 20 minutes, and then walk over to your place, which will take another 10, and find the relevant parts of the study, which might take 5. We don’t have time,” you rambled. Hongjoong shushed you, voice barely above a whisper. 

“It’ll be fine, I can carry you on my back and sprint back to my apartment,” he said, which reeled a cold scoff from you. Confidence. Disgusting confidence. His joke did make you feel calmer, and grounded you. He knew how to calm you down. But you would never admit it. You went back to searching. Eventually, you and Hongjoong had compiled all the sources. All except for one. You couldn’t find the publishing date of this book for the life of you, and neither could Hongjoong. You exchanged a look of plight with each other, as he scoured online, and you through the book. As each minute passed, you felt your heart rate speeding up, and yourself becoming antsier and antsier. Hongjoong, observant as ever, saw your increasingly agitated state.

“Y/n, it’s okay, breathe,” you heard Hongjoong say from next to you, his confidence replaced with sincerity, but you ignored him, “we’ll find it.” His words flew by you, as you gave a distracted hum, acknowledging him. He knew you didn’t hear him, and that you were beyond the state of being reached. Flipping through another book that cited the book you were looking for, you gasped, seeing the date.

“Hongjoong!” your gasp of relief startled him, “I found it look! 1978.” You both leaned in towards each other, as you pointed your finger at the year. Hongjoong laughed, eyes meeting yours. As you looked into his eyes, you realized you called him by his first name. You hadn’t done that since the two of you broke up. 

“See look, I told you it would work out,” he said, pulling up your paper, and typing down the year. You nodded, looking around to see that the library was empty, save for the two of you. It was snowing outside, a little too heavily to be pleasant. You winced, realizing the cold weather you would have to face when you walked out. Now all that was left for you to do was to go back to his place, and cite the data from your study. Hongjoong started collecting his things, his laptop charger, his laptop, and his tablet, shoving them into his black backpack. You followed suit, shoveling all your papers and devices into your bag. Slipping on your jacket, the two of you were ready, and on your way out. As you walked by the front desk, however, the librarian stopped you. 

“Sorry guys, I just got notice that the snow was way too heavy, I can’t let anyone leave until the snow clears up,” you froze in your tracks. Fear panged in your heart. You looked down at your watch, you only had 20 minutes left until submission. 

“Oh, I see, okay, thank you,” Hongjoong, being the more level-headed one, responded. You could only stare blankly at him. You looked back at the librarian, explaining your circumstance. She only gave you a shake of the head. You wanted to reason, but Hongjoong held your arm. 

“We can just message professor,” he said. Before you could interject about how unprofessional that would be, he continued, “your safety is more important than the deadline of some paper. I’m sure he’ll understand.” With a deep inhale, you nodded. The two of you went back into the library’s main area, finding a corner with bean bags. Back when you two were still together, you would’ve killed for a chance to be stuck in an empty library with him alone, and have an impromptu library date. But it wasn’t the same as it was back then, as you two sat awkwardly next to each other in the pile of beanbags. 

“I sent the email to him already. I explained that it was my fault that I forgot the results in my apartment, because well, it is,” he said, closing his laptop, looking at you. You nodded, chewing at your lip, your heart refusing to calm down. Your eyes traveled to the sight outside the window, as the clouds of descending snow practically roared. 

“Sorry,” you apologized out of habit.

“Why are you sorry? There’s nothing to apologize for,” Hongjoong said reassuringly, looking into your eyes. You were unsettled by the lack of arrogance in his gaze, which instead was full of concern for you. You tried to brush it off. Tried. 

“I-” you started, but were promptly shut down as all the lights went off simultaneously. The power was out, and it took with it the buzz of the heater. You two sat in the silence, and now darkness.

“Well shit, just our luck huh?” he laughed, looking around. You could already feel the coldness creeping onto your skin, despite the thick sweater you were wearing. Your leg began bouncing out of habit and anxiousness, taking on a life of its own. You chewed on your nails, looking at the library that was now plunged in darkness. Worries began to swarm you, that you wouldn’t make it back, that your professor wouldn’t accept the excuse, and that you’d be stranded and frozen to death in this library with your ex-boyfriend being the last person who saw you alive. Your vision blurred, as you tried your hardest to steady your breathing. The cold air that descended on you wasn’t doing you any favors. You were not about to have a panic attack in front of Hongjoong. But the thoughts were incapacitating. The worries of not being ever able to leave, being stuck in there for days, and of course, getting a zero for your paper. Your hands rubbed themselves together in desperate search of warmth. Amidst your fear, you barely felt Hongjoong scoot closer to you. The bean bags beneath you dipped, as you felt a hand land hesitantly on your shoulder. You let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding, as you turned to face him. He opened his arms, which almost caused you to laugh aloud. In any other state, you would literally rather freeze to death than be hugged by Hongjoong. And Hongjoong knew that, but he also knew that when you were in your panicked state, being hugged was one of the most effective ways of calming you down. Despite not being massively fond of physical affection, he was still willing to initiate it with you for your comfort. Guess that hasn’t changed. You leaned into him, letting his arms circle around you, and your head fell into his chest. Warmth returned, as he scooted himself even closer to you, to the point where you were almost laying on top of him. You shut your eyes hard, and tried to anchor yourself. The feeling of his burgundy hoodie, cotton, soft but a little scratchy against your cheeks. The light rise and fall of his chest, steady, rhythmic with each breath he took. The gentle scent of coffee that he carried. The way his fingers traveled tenderly up and down your back soothingly. And the beating of his heart. You could feel yourself calming down, and your own breath steadying. At some point, Hongjoong had taken your jackets, and set them atop the two of you like a blanket. Your heart was still racing, and you know Hongjoong could feel it, as he joked about how you should drink less coffee. 

“Hey, remember the thirty six questions to fall in love?” he said, voice barely above a whisper, out of nowhere. You knew he did it to get your mind off of your situation. 

“Oh yeah, that pseudo-psych bullshit,” you laughed, still flush against his chest, “what about them?” 

“Wanna go through them for fun?” he proposed, “we can make it a game. I try to guess your answers, and you try to guess mine, and the one who guesses the most right wins.” You giggled, you could never refuse a challenge, especially when it was one from your nemesis, Hongjoong. 

“Alright, and what’s at stake?” you asked.

“Hmm, winner gets to slap the loser as hard as they want to,” he suggested. You nodded, liking his idea. The whole situation was absurd, you were lying in Hongjoong’s arms as not quite enemies, but not quite friends, and definitely not as lovers, talking about your past relationship with him, and asking questions to each other designed to make people fall in love. But deep down, you were content. You were enjoying this more than you thought yourself to be. It was less painful than you had imagined it would be. Pulling up your phone, you dug out the questions, which you had saved to your notes back when you were dating. 

“Alright, question one: given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” you read. Hongjoong hummed. You knew that your answer would stump him. But despite all odds, he guessed correctly.

“I think you would invite Sigmund Freud, because you hate him and want to know what went on in his mind to make him come up with his theories about sexual attraction,” he said, almost as if it was obvious. You pulled back slightly to look him in the eye, stunned by how he guessed it. 

“What in the actual hell? I thought there was no way you’d get that,” you said, astonished. Hongjoong looked at you with a smirk. 

“Well, you seem to have an obsession with being around people you hate,” he said, which caused you to slap him on the shoulder. He laughed, amused. 

“I think, no I know you would have Michael Jackson. You and your obsession with Billie Jean,” you said. Hongjoong nodded, eyebrows raised, beaming.

“Well, you’re right,” he said, “and we are tied one for one.” The two of you went through the questions, with you scrolling on your phone. Laughs came easily, as it dawned on you how little the both of you had changed since your split a year ago. You felt yourself let loose, and the two of you settled into a balance similar to one that you had when you were still together. You were still tied up until this point.

“Okay look look look, here’s this one,” you read, tapping on his chest, “‘alternate sharing five things you consider a positive characteristic of your partner.’ You have to name five to get the point.” Hongjoong scoffed, unfazed. You ushered him to go on, a part of you anticipating what he would say. 

“You are a hard worker,” he said, the honesty of his tone catching you off guard. You felt your cheeks dust pink at his words. 

“You, you give good hugs,” you said, your eyes meeting his. His eyes glittered, even in the practically pitch black library. You swore, even in the moonlit library, the tips of his ears were bright red. You were also taken aback by his beauty, the moonlight making his skin look milky, highlighting his pronounced cheeks, and dainty nose. His many earrings glinted, like stars in the sky. This was the first time you were looking at him so closely, for so long, since you left each other.

“You are a funny person,” he said, eyes not leaving yours. 

“You have a good heart,” you said, thinking of how he took the blame for your assignment being submitted late. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said, a hint of breathlessness in his tone. You tried your hardest to brush it off, excusing it to be a side effect of his confidence. It was your turn again, and despite only being two compliments in, you were struggling a bit. Hongjoong noticed, and instead of taking it to heart, he only laughed.

“You are reliable,” you continued. 

“You are intelligent,” he added, in a tone that said he could go on and on. 

“You are strong, mentally, that is, not sure about physically,” you joked, causing Hongjoong to roll his eyes.

“You know how to make me laugh,” he said, in response to your comment.

“I don’t hate you,” you finished. You could see Hongjoong grin at your last compliment, almost as if you just professed your love for him. And you were being honest. The longer you spent with him, the less sure you felt of your hatred for him. In fact, you weren’t sure of what you felt for him anymore. Pressing on, the two of you continued, desperate to find a winner. 

“Question 28,” you read, “‘tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met.’ I have to compliment you again? God, I’m running out of things to say.” You replied snarkily, which beckoned a laugh from Hongjoong. It was a lie, you were starting to realize why you used to love him so fiercely. You sat facing him, thinking about what you were going to say. Something, perhaps your desire, took over you, as you spoke.

“Well, I don’t hate your arms,” you said, running a hand down his arm, you could hear his breath hitch in his throat at your touch. Deep down, you felt satisfied at the effect you had on him even after being apart for so long. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, recollecting himself and ushering you to go on, almost as if to see if you dared to. 

“I don’t hate your hands either,” you continued, taking his hands in yours and admiring their sculpted gracefulness. He only looked at you, swallowing. His gaze darkened. 

“I don’t hate your face,” you said, placing a hand on his cheek, feeling his soft, warm skin, “your eyes, your nose,” you whispered, your face only inches away from his, “and definitely not your lips.” Your gaze was fixated on his lips. They looked plush, and soft. You could feel his breath on your skin, and the slight warmth it had. Neither of you moved, as if waiting for the other to crack. Hongjoong caved first, closing the distance between the two of you. His hands found the sides of your cheeks, pulling you in closer into him. You took a fistful of his hoodie in your hands, deepening the kiss. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, which reeled a needy whine from you, begging for more. Hongjoong responded by shoving his tongue into your mouth hungrily, and you tasted coffee and fresh air on him. You ran your hands through his hair, the locks soft and fluffy against the pads of your fingers. You kissed him like you were trying to inhale him, like he was the oxygen you breathed. Like he was all you needed to survive. Like all your frustrations and hate towards him were being exerted as your lips moved in tandem with each other. After some time, the kiss, which started fiery, full of passion, and hatred, had settled to be more languid and emotional. It was now full of something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. Something that was definitely not hatred. Hongjoong kissed you slowly, like you had all the time in the world. Like his lips were professing his deepest secrets to you, handing his heart over to you. The kiss felt like sitting by a fireplace on a cold day, the sun on your skin, and a melody in your heart. It felt like you were returning home. It felt right. When the two of you broke apart, a string of saliva connected the both of you. You were panting, arms slung around his neck, looking at him through a lidded gaze. He looked disheveled, but handsome nonetheless, his lips glistening in the moonlight. His hands were around your waist, holding you tight against his body. 

“The questions work, don’t they?” he remarked snarkily, running a hand through your hair. 

“Don’t get too cocky yet, Joong, I still hate you,” you said, affectionate with the use of the nickname, but with an edge in your voice. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, pretty girl,” he responded. You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his words.

“I swear to God I was ‘mere exposure effect-ed’ into not, not hating you as much,” you joked, full well knowing that mere exposure effect operated differently. He only chuckled.

“We could be the subject of an observational study about it,” he started, “and I bet you could also testify to the effectiveness of the 36 questions. We’re at question 28 and you’re already all over me.” You shoved him. 

“Do I need to remind you that you were the one who kissed me?” you said, poking him in the cheek. Hongjoong gave a hum of dismissal, pulling you back into his arms and laying down again. You two gave up on the questions, with them literally having served their purpose. You could feel weariness sneak up on you, as you grew drowsy in his embrace. Hongjoong pulled the jackets up more, before snuggling his nose into your hair. 

“I missed this,” he whispered. You saw another opportunity to fluster him. 

“What did you say?” you asked, playing dumb and batting your eyelashes. Knowing his pride, he wouldn’t admit to missing you. Not like this. 

“I-,” he hesitated, “I said I missed this. I missed you,” you were taken aback, “I really miss you, y/n. And I know it’s been a year, but I still do. Even when I tried to date that other girl, it was to forget about you. But I couldn’t. I only wanted you and I realized that way too late. And I wanted to respect you and your wishes, but I also resented you for leaving me,” he took a breath, “It’s hard not to hate you for leaving, I think I loved you too much. I think I love you too much.” Your mouth hung open in shock at his honesty. You knew he was serious, Kim Hongjoong wouldn’t just drop his pride for anyone. It hurt you to know that he resented you leaving him, but it was justified, as the real reason why you left him was unknown to anyone but you. To him, you lied, and told him that work and school were taking too much of a toll on you. It was an unconvincing lie, you thought, but Hongjoong believed you. 

“Hongjoong, I don’t know how to say this,” you started, “but I lied to you about why I broke up with you. And this is going to sound really shitty, but it was because I was scared of falling in love,” he looked at you, genuineness overflowing, “I dated someone before you, and he treated me very badly. He was very avoidant, and, and didn’t treat me the best. It was hot and cold with him. One day, he made me feel like the most important person on the planet, and on the next, he acted like he didn’t know me. My relationship with him made me very scared of love. So when I started dating you, and realizing that you were someone I loved so, so much, I got scared. I didn’t want you to leave me like he did, so I cut you out of my life. I’m sorry, Hongjoong,” you sighed shakily, “I am. And I would understand if you could never forgive me for it, but I figured you should know that leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made, and I feel it’s effects every single moment.” You explained, scared to meet his eyes. Hongjoong only responded by gently tilting your face so that your eyes met his, and pressing his lips against yours. This time, the kiss was soft, less hungry than the last. It was a confession, more of a confession than any words could ever be. You felt tears stream down your face as colorful emotions bloomed inside you. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you sighed, content this time. As the two of you parted, Hongjoong lifted his thumb, gently tapping away at the tears in the corners of your eyes. His eyes were glassy with tears threatening to fall. Despite that, he grinned. Toothy, but so innately him. 

“I forgive you, y/n,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours, “and I wish you could’ve told me sooner, but I’m more than happy you’re telling me now,” he continued, “letting you go was the biggest mistake I made, so I guess neither of us are saints.” You chuckled, feeling your heart swell with adoration for him. Happy, you pressed your head against his chest, taking in the sound of his heartbeat. A giggle escaped the both of you when you heard it speed up. 

“That obsessed with me, huh?” you said, pressing a chaste kiss on Hongjoong’s jaw. 

“You’re full of yourself,” he said, trying to bite back his smile. You huffed, closing your eyes, letting the steady rise and fall of Hongjoong’s chest, and the intoxicating warmth his embrace provided lull you to sleep, as your drowsiness took hold of you. 

You felt a kiss on your head, and a light shake on your shoulders. Then you heard a voice calling your name. The voice belonged to Hongjoong, whose arms you had fallen asleep in. Groggy, you felt your eyes peel open. He was sitting up, looking at you with a smile. You also realized how bright it was around you, and how warm it was again. Checking your phone, you saw that it was already 2 in the morning. 

“The snow has stopped, we can head back now, and finally submit the paper,” he said, pulling you up with him, into his arms for a quick hug, before letting you go. You groaned as he released you, already aching for his warmth. He laughed, and helped you put your jacket on. your eyes kept heaving shut, as you felt him place gentle kisses on them. 

“You’re so clingy, Joong,” you said to him. Nothing could stop you from teasing him. Not your tiredness, not anything in this world. 

“Well it’s not my fault you look so adorable when you’re sleepy,” he said, taking your hand in his as the two of you walked out into the night. You winced as the frigid air hit your face. Hongjoong, still holding your hand, slipped his hand into his pocket for warmth. The two of you strode wordlessly, fingers intertwined, through the snowy streets of the city. Your face was frozen in a wince, pained by the coldness around you. The only thing keeping you from freezing to death was the warmth from Hongjoong’s hand, which was wrapped tightly around yours. 

Your sour expression only disappeared when the warmth of Hongjoong’s apartment hit your face. It had been a year since you’d been there, and it changed very minimally. Aside from a few new plants, it was still very recognizably his home. The place was tidy, neat, and cleaned. His grayish-blue sofa was littered with pillows, ones that the two of you had gotten together. Posters of music artists he looked up to still hung on the walls. The place looked like it was frozen in a state of timeless beauty. 

“I’ll finish the paper, you go lie down and get comfy,” he said. You nodded, grinning at his considerate words. You both knew that you were barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone finish a report. You opened the door to his room, as a familiar scent of warm sugar and home overtook you. Hongjoong’s bed was one of your favorite places in the world, second only to his arms. Hastily taking off your thick winter jacket, you jumped under the covers. Even though you had bought the same comforter as him, it felt different when it was his. It felt softer, warmer but not suffocatingly warm, and it smelled like him. It was like being in his arms, but not as euphoric. A smile tugged on your lips, as you finally felt at home. You could hear Hongjoong’s footsteps faintly in the distance, as they traveled to, and stopped in the kitchen. A minute or so later, he arrived in his room, and your eyes lit up at the cups of hot chocolate in his hand. He laughed seeing you tucked so tightly in his bed. You sat up, taking one of the matching mugs that you’d bought for the two of you. 

“You never threw these out,” you said, before taking a sip of the drink. Your eyes shut out of reflex, as the sweetness brought you inexplicable joy. You let out a content hum. Hongjoong sat down next to you, pulling the comforter over him. 

“How could I?” he asked, taking a large gulp of the drink, “maybe I knew that we weren’t over.” you smiled wide, looking at him, endeared. He looked at you with a boyish smile. His smile. One that he reserved solely for you. One that only appeared for you, only when you were around. You tapped his nose affectionately. The two of you talked about the year that you’d spent without each other, the new happenings, laughing as you finished your hot chocolates. And when you felt sleep threatening to take you, Hongjoong noticed, as he gathered you in his arms, flicking his bedside lamp off. You snuggled into him, breathing in the fresh linen of his pajama shirt. You felt him kiss the crown of your head, wishing you a goodnight. 

If you said you hated Kim Hongjoong now, no one would believe you. And you knew better than anyone that it wasn’t true. That it was, more than anything, a blatant lie.

“I’ll finish the paper, you go lie down and get comfy,” he said. You nodded, grinning at his considerate words. You both knew that you were barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone finish a report. You opened the door to his room, as a familiar scent of warm sugar and home overtook you. Hongjoong’s bed was one of your favorite places in the world, second only to his arms. Hastily taking off your thick winter jacket, you jumped under the covers. Even though you had bought the same comforter as him, it felt different when it was his. It felt softer, warmer but not suffocatingly warm, and it smelled like him. It was like being in his arms, but not as euphoric. A smile tugged on your lips, as you finally felt at home. You could hear Hongjoong’s footsteps faintly in the distance, as they traveled to, and stopped in the kitchen. A minute or so later, he arrived in his room, and your eyes lit up at the cups of hot chocolate in his hand. He laughed seeing you tucked so tightly in his bed. You sat up, taking one of the matching mugs that you’d bought for the two of you. 

“You never threw these out,” you said, before taking a sip of the drink. Your eyes shut out of reflex, as the sweetness brought you inexplicable joy. You let out a content hum. Hongjoong sat down next to you, pulling the comforter over him. 

“How could I?” he asked, taking a large gulp of the drink, “maybe I knew that we weren’t over.” you smiled wide, looking at him, endeared. He looked at you with a boyish smile. His smile. One that he reserved solely for you. One that only appeared for you, only when you were around. You tapped his nose affectionately. The two of you talked about the year that you’d spent without each other, the new happenings, laughing as you finished your hot chocolates. And when you felt sleep threatening to take you, Hongjoong noticed, as he gathered you in his arms, flicking his bedside lamp off. You snuggled into him, breathing in the fresh linen of his pajama shirt. You felt him kiss the crown of your head, wishing you a goodnight. 

If you said you hated Kim Hongjoong now, no one would believe you. And you knew better than anyone that it wasn’t true. That it was, more than anything, a blatant lie.

“I’ll finish the paper, you go lie down and get comfy,” he said. You nodded, grinning at his considerate words. You both knew that you were barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone finish a report. You opened the door to his room, as a familiar scent of warm sugar and home overtook you. Hongjoong’s bed was one of your favorite places in the world, second only to his arms. Hastily taking off your thick winter jacket, you jumped under the covers. Even though you had bought the same comforter as him, it felt different when it was his. It felt softer, warmer but not suffocatingly warm, and it smelled like him. It was like being in his arms, but not as euphoric. A smile tugged on your lips, as you finally felt at home. You could hear Hongjoong’s footsteps faintly in the distance, as they traveled to, and stopped in the kitchen. A minute or so later, he arrived in his room, and your eyes lit up at the cups of hot chocolate in his hand. He laughed seeing you tucked so tightly in his bed. You sat up, taking one of the matching mugs that you’d bought for the two of you. 

“You never threw these out,” you said, before taking a sip of the drink. Your eyes shut out of reflex, as the sweetness brought you inexplicable joy. You let out a content hum. Hongjoong sat down next to you, pulling the comforter over him. 

“How could I?” he asked, taking a large gulp of the drink, “maybe I knew that we weren’t over.” you smiled wide, looking at him, endeared. He looked at you with a boyish smile. His smile. One that he reserved solely for you. One that only appeared for you, only when you were around. You tapped his nose affectionately. The two of you talked about the year that you’d spent without each other, the new happenings, laughing as you finished your hot chocolates. And when you felt sleep threatening to take you, Hongjoong noticed, as he gathered you in his arms, flicking his bedside lamp off. You snuggled into him, breathing in the fresh linen of his pajama shirt. You felt him kiss the crown of your head, wishing you a goodnight. 

If you said you hated Kim Hongjoong now, no one would believe you. And you knew better than anyone that it wasn’t true. That it was, more than anything, a blatant lie.

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@northerngalxy

[alxdelusional]

Warm Love and Sick Days

⭒Pairing: Vet! Yunho x Med student/ Doctor! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Sickfic, pure fluff, established relationship

⭒Synopsis: You come home from a shift at the hospital sick, and your boyfriend Yunho wants nothing more than to spoil you and take care of you. You wouldn’t let that happen though, as the last thing you wanted was for him to get sick. 

⭒Warnings: Kissing, Yunho is too cute, reader is sick

⭒Al's thoughts: The happenings of my mind while I had a cold, enjoy!!

⭒Word count: 2.88 K

It started with a scratchiness in your throat, like a piece of popcorn kernel was stuck to the back of it, lodged inside and unwilling to let go. You didn’t pay any mind to it while you checked up on all your patients at the beginning of your shift. 

Then it turned into the shivers that ran down your spine, that didn’t even go away when you gulped down hot tea. You blamed it on the AC of the hospital, set to freezing temperatures in the hot summer. 

You noticed your nose start running and ending up clogged. Shoving that aside, you had work to do. Then your muscles started to ache even from the simple task of standing up and walking around the building, which you excused for your lack of exercise due to being swamped with revision. You were moving to the next round of internships, neuropsychology, which had you shaking with fear even at the mention of it. Your entire life became working, and revising, with little time for even the most basic of things. But you needed to revise. You needed to make sure you wouldn’t flunk out of med school. 

It was only when a string of coughs left your mouth, did you start to accept it. And when you stumbled over yourself, your legs giving out under you, did you finally submit. You were sick. It wasn’t a surprise, as you spent most of your days in the hospital, but you always thought yourself to be pretty diligent when it came to warding off infectious illnesses. You sighed as you drove back to your apartment, leaving your shift two hours early due to the piercing migraine and dull ache in your muscles. 

You practically fell into your home, before erupting into a fit of dry, heavy coughs. The excited barks of your lovely golden retriever, Uno, barely flew into your register. On any normal day, you would’ve knelt right down, welcoming him into your arms as you gave him the attention he desired. The same could be said for your usual greeting to your boyfriend, Jeong Yunho, who rushed out to where you were, footsteps light, but hurried. You collected yourself, as he leaned down to help you up. You batted his hand away with your own, swatting at him like he was a rogue fly. 

“Don’t come near me,” you coughed, voice hoarse, “I don’t want you getting sick.” Yunho looked at you, eyes full of sadness and worry. You noticed how he was wearing the cute apron you bought for him, and the sound of water boiling hinted to you that he was cooking. 

“I was gonna say how happy I was that you were home early,” he said, a little bit of dejection in his voice, “now I see why.” He took your backpack from you, trying to help you. You handed him a pack of alcohol wipes, instructing him to wipe your stuff down. 

“Baby, it’s not like you have the plague,” he chided, gaze soft. You shook your head adamantly. 

“I don’t want my boyfriend getting this nasty sickness from me,” you said, taking a new medical mask out of its packaging, and slipping it over your face. Your skin almost burned you at how hot it was, despite how cold you felt. He sighed. He was used to your headstrong demeanor, and it was something he admired about you. How you would always speak up for yourself, especially when it came to something that meant a lot to you. Of course, it did have its downsides, and your stubbornness was definitely one of them. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle you and spoil you with affection in this state, but your strong will refused. You gave a quick pat to Uno, who trailed behind you as you stood up, facing Yunho but keeping him an arms length away from you. Your eyes threatened to heave shut. 

“Go take a nap,” he said to you with a warm smile, “I was making soup for dinner. I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.” You gave him a grateful nod. His food was always appetizing to you, even when you couldn’t smell anything, and had no will to eat. It just tasted like home, like a warm, fuzzy childhood memory. If he wasn’t a vet, you swore he could have a career as a chef. 

“Thank you, darling,” you muttered, before trudging over to your shared bedroom. Uno followed right behind you, tail wagging. Slipping out of your work clothes, and into one of Yunho’s fleece hoodies for warmth, you pulled the covers all the way over you. Uno joined you, opting to lay by your side. You took a hand and lazily rubbed his stomach, feeling his soft, luscious golden fur against your fingertips. The coldness had lessened, but was still unignorable. You heard the door creak open, as you peeled your eyes open to see your boyfriend with your first aid kit in his hands. 

“Nuh uh uh,” you managed to mutter out, “before you come any closer to me, put on a mask.” Yunho sighed, pulling one of the masks out from the kit, and putting it on. You were content, as he sat down by your bedside. You heard a chuckle escape him as he saw you in his hoodie. He set a hand on top of your forehead, feeling the heat emanate off your skin. He set a gel cooling patch on your forehead, pressing a quick kiss on it through the mask. 

“Yunho,” you grumbled, not having the energy to lecture him about how he was putting himself at risk. The gesture did make you feel better, at least emotionally. You could hear a shy giggle escape him. You could hear him open some packets, and set something down on your nightstand. Then, his slender fingers were on your temple, massaging them lightly. He knew from the furrow of your brow alone that your head was pounding with a headache. You relaxed, finally realizing how tense you were this entire time. His fingers worked around your head, somehow locating all the points that hurt. You could feel the pressure lessen in your head, a hoarse hum leaving your lips. After he was done, Yunho cradled your face with his hands, nuzzling his nose into yours, both of you still wearing your masks. If you had any more strength than you did, you would’ve tried to shove him away.

“Feel better, my baby?” he asked affectionately. The softness in the way he held your face, as well as in his words melted your heart a bit, as you could feel your stubbornness at him melting away. 

“Mhm,” you hummed after a cough escaped your lips, “thank you, Yuyu.” you tried your hardest at opening your eyes, and the sight you were met with was beautiful. Even though his mask covered up to his nose, you could tell he was beaming. He looked almost like Uno, a puppy-like joy in his eyes. You felt your lips stretching into a smile under your mask as well. 

“Dinner will be ready soon, take a nap,” he said, before getting up, Uno following behind him. You nodded lazily, feeling yourself drift away due to sheer exhaustion, now slightly relieved by the cold emanating off your forehead, and the magic that Yunho worked on your headache. 

You stirred at the bed dipping down. Your eyes snapped open this time, seeing Yunho sit down beside you, a steaming bowl of soup in his hands. A fit of coughs captured you, as you pulled yourself up. Yunho rubbed your back soothingly. You weren’t sure for how long you were asleep, but you felt a bit of energy returning to you. 

“Ready to have dinner?” he asked. A grumble that erupted from your stomach answered that question for him. You took off your mask, and signaled him to hand you the spoon. He ignored you, blowing on the spoonful of soup gently to cool it down. 

“Yunho, it’s just a fever,” you said. He shook his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

“I know, but you’re my baby, so open up,” he said. You would never admit it, but you reveled in him spoiling you, so you obliged. He grinned, making small airplane noises as he swerved the food around, and eventually into your mouth. A sigh of bliss escaped you as you closed your mouth around it. The soup warmed you up, dispelling some of the frost in your core. Even though your sense of smell was long gone, the soup somehow still managed to taste fragrant. The taste was heavenly, blissful. 

“How are you not a chef?” you asked, sniffling, “I swear this is the best stuff I’ve ever had.”

“Well if I was a chef, I couldn’t help all the little animals out there like our son,” he said, referring to Uno. You giggled. You’d always loved it when he called Uno your child, and the realization of the deeper emotions behind that was something you weren’t quite ready to face, “there are lots of great chefs out there, but not enough people helping animals. It’s the same reason why you’re in med school, doctor.” Your heart swelled at his words, reminding you of his own heart that was too great for this world. Too bright. Too pure. The use of the nickname caused you to giggle. He fed the rest of the soup to you, the both of you recounting your day to each other. You would always tell him about the various cases you saw, and the sometimes nasty people you had to deal with. He would divulge all the cute animals he got to care for, and sometimes got teary if one of them had passed. A part of you was jealous of his job. You’d much rather work with animals all day long, but you adamantly chose the path of med school, so you had to settle with hearing about the critters from your loving boyfriend. 

By your wishes, he left you alone after finishing feeding you, but not before he made sure you took your fever medication. You curled up under the covers again, groggy, but much better than you were feeling earlier into the day. Occasionally, he popped in, throwing out the mountain of tissues that had been piling up as you blew your nose, and filling up your bottle with fresh, hot water. 

“Yuyu, can we sleep separately tonight? I really don’t want you getting sick, baby,” you asked, and were immediately met with a look of heartbroken betrayal from him. 

“What? I- I don’t want to sleep on the couch,” he stuttered out. A shotty excuse that you saw right through. 

“Fine, then I will,” you said, hoisting yourself up. Yunho immediately ran over by your side, coaxing you to lay back down. 

“No need for that,” he said frantically, “I just… I was looking forward to cuddling with you.” he said with a pout on his lips. A pout that you wanted to do nothing more than kiss away. You swore you felt your resolve slip away from you for a second, but you yanked it right back. 

“I know, I was too,” you cooed, “I promise I’ll give you all the cuddles and kisses you want the minute I feel better, okay?” Content with your promise, he nodded, the pout fading away. 

When it did come time for you to sleep though, you quickly regretted your decision. You tossed and turned, sleep refusing to take you. The bed felt too big, too cold, too empty. You felt like something was missing. And something was, that something being the strong arms of your boyfriend, and his warm chest against your back. Sure, Uno was cuddled right up next to you, but he only provided a fraction of the warmth Yunho did. A fraction of the comfort, too. You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. You cursed at yourself, knowing that it was too late now, as he could already be sleeping soundly on the couch in your living room. 

A sound that was vaguely of the creak of the door pulled you from your frustrations. Light, shuffling footsteps quickly followed, as you saw the sleepy form of your boyfriend, clad in his pajamas, walking towards you. His eyes met yours in the room which was dimly lit by moonlight escaping in through the blinds. 

“Yuyu?” you croaked out, which he met with a hum. 

“Baby,” he whined, tiredness laden in his voice, “you know I can’t sleep without you in my arms.” You sighed. 

“I know, but I’m sick right now,” you mumbled. You also couldn’t sleep without him, but that wasn’t important. The health and wellbeing of your tall, cuddly boyfriend was. The cold emptiness of the bed was something you were willing to endure if it meant your boyfriend was healthy and happy. You could sense the dejection from him. 

“You let Uno cuddle you and you won’t even let your boyfriend cuddle you?” he reasoned.

“Uno is a dog, Yunho, you don’t need to be a vet to know that dogs can’t get sick from humans,” you grumbled. Yunho whined and lightly stomped his feet, not giving up. His cuteness was what made your will snap. You muttered a curse to yourself, before reaching your arms out to him. 

“C’mere,” you said, which was received with a small giggle from him. 

“Uno, move honey, let me cuddle your mama,” he said quietly to him, as to not startle him. As if the dog could understand him, it leapt out of your bed, settling into its own in the corner of your room. The next second, he was next to you, pulling you into your favorite spot, which was in his arms, face next to his. Everything that was missing came back, as you could feel yourself relaxing just with his presence. He was so warm, warmer than the sun’s blistering heat. The warmth he had was also softer than that of the sun’s. You much preferred his warmth. He was basically the sun to you anyway, brightening up your days, and brightening up your life. 

“You’re gonna get sick, Yuyu,” you whispered. You’d given up fighting against it, as your face was mere inches away from his. 

“I don’t care, let me cuddle you,” he said, pulling you into him. You finally succumbed to your desires, wrapping your arms around his back. His heart beat against your chest rhythmically, steadily. 

“Fine, but if you get sick, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” you mumbled, your face fitting into the crook of his neck. You breathed him in, smelling the familiar scent of his lavender cologne. He pulled away from you slightly, before pressing a gentle, long kiss on your lips. His lips were soft against yours, as you felt your eyes flutter shut lightly. Your hands caressed his soft cheeks. Even in these few short hours, you missed him. The kiss felt like home, and you felt at home, with his lips on yours, and his arms around you. 

“That’s how much I care,” he said as he pulled apart from you, nuzzling into you. You only scoffed lightly. In his arms, you were finally content, and you could feel yourself slip away into the tides of dreamland, falling quickly asleep.

You awoke to the shrill blaring of your alarm, which you promptly shut, as to not wake your boyfriend up. Sunlight snuck in through the cracks of the blinds. Due to your diligence, and the fever meds, you were practically okay, aside from a light cough, and a slight sniffle. The same could not be said about Yunho, who stirred at the sound of your alarm with a grumble, opening his eyes with a sniffle. You were about to get up, before a firm hand pulled you back under the covers. You gasped, as Yunho snuggled into your chest like you were a plushie. 

“Yuyu, I still have work today,” you muttered into his hair. He whined, holding onto you tighter. 

“You’re still sick, you can’t work today,” he said, which made you laugh, your hand finding its way into his soft hazel locks. You could hear him try to quiet his coughs. 

“I think you’re the one who’s sick, baby,” you teased. You felt Yunho shake his head against you, and his sudden, enhanced clinginess made sense. Just as you rightfully predicted, he was, indeed, sick. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he whispered. You sighed. You needed a break anyway. It had been far too long since you’d last gotten a day alone with your boyfriend, without work and school getting in the way of it. 

“I don’t know why I indulge you,” you sighed, the tenderness of your tone not matching the slight harshness to your words. 

“It’s because you love me,” he answered with a beam. The joy in his tone sent an arrow through your heart. You chuckled, defeated. 

“You’re right, Yuyu,” you said, a grin forming on your lips before you swiped his hair away from his forehead to press a kiss onto it, “I do love you.”

⭒taglist: if you want to be added leave a comment/ reblog/ message and lmk!

@northerngalxy

[alxdelusional]

Paper Koi

⭒Pairing: Figure skater! Mingi x Figure skater! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/ comfort

⭒Synopsis: You had just lost another skating partner to the goal of turning professional, and wanted nothing more than to give up your dreams of pairs figure skating. Your best friend and fellow skater, Song Mingi, sees this, and not wanting to see you give up, he suggests to be your new partner. 

⭒Warnings: Physical injuries (minor), a few tears shed, Mingi is very anxious, possible inaccurate portrayals of figure skating (I did some research but ofc I'm not perfect).

⭒Song rec: (it's a classical music piece) Nostalgia, Joe Hisaishi

⭒Al's thoughts: This one is pretty long!! But it is very fluffy and it is my darling Minks so I love it so much!!!

⭒Word count: 7.30 K

A droplet of dew landed on the pond, sending ripples that momentarily blurred the crystal clear water. You sat on the cobble pathway, transfixed on the graceful koi fish that were swimming peacefully. Their scales shimmered like gemstones with the sunlight gently hitting them from above. The fish looked so healthy, as they had the whole entirety of the spacious backyard pond to themselves. They were also healthy due to the diligent care and love they were showered with by their owner, Song Mingi, who walked out to join you. You looked up at him as his footsteps neared you. He looked like a giant from where you were seated on the ground, wearing a tight black exercise shirt, and his ebony hair falling neatly by the sides of his face. He stretched out his hand, taking yours in a strong grip and pulling you up onto your feet. 

“Chicken’s scales are finally healing,” he said with a loving smile directed at his fish, as you rolled your eyes. He had a name for each of his eight koi fish, and they were all the dumbest names you’d ever heard. Chicken was by far the dumbest. But you didn’t expect anything else from him. And it made him happy. When he was looking at these fish, he was happy, and you rarely ever saw him that happy. The only other thing that you could think of was when he was figure skating. 

The two of you had grown up together as neighbors in a sleepy town that snowed heavily in winter. Riddled in your memories were days where you would knock on his door excitedly, as the two of you carried your ice skates in your arms, and ran over to the frozen lakes. Those days were the best, the two of you giggling as you raced each other on the ice, or traced large figure 8’s with the blades of your skates into the icy lake surface. Either that, or it was to your community ice rink, the rink that you trained at now. Throughout the years, you’d found a home on the ice. The love of ice skating both of you shared was anything but passive, as you both chose to pursue it, with him skating individuals, and you choosing pairs once you were older. Although it had been your childhood dream to skate in pairs after watching the Olympics one winter, the chance had been ripped away from you three separate times now, with all of your partners choosing to turn pro, instead of continuing down the path of partnership. It left you partnerless, miserable, and hopeless. You were sick of it, the constant fear that once you had another partner, he would just leave again. So, you were heading over to the ice rink today to discuss with your coach about going back into singles. Mingi just so happened to have training scheduled today, so the two of you decided to head over together. Taking one last look at his beloved fish friends, Mingi’s eyes met yours, and with a nod, the two of you were out the front doors of his house, strolling down the streets towards your local ice rink. 

“I’m gonna stop at the bathroom,” you said as the two of you walked into the rink, “you go ahead first.” Mingi nodded as you scurried off. You splashed cold water on your face, looking at yourself in the mirror. A part of you was still hesitant, wanting to cling onto the hope that maybe you’ll find a partner, and you could still do pairs. But the more logical part of you knew how much of a scarcity male figure skaters are, how hard it would be to find another, and all the issues of suitability that would come if you’d found one. And that’s to say you could even find one. Taking an inhale, you were ready. Emerging from the bathroom and down the halls to the entrance of the rink, you heard Mingi’s voice, unintelligible, and that of your coach’s. 

“You’re gonna have to ask y/n about that,” your coach said as you rounded the corner to see them. You laughed, your coach greeting you with a smile.

“Talking about me?” you asked. 

“Well, Mingi has made a suggestion,” he started, “he wants to be your partner for pairs.” Your brows scrunched in confusion as if he was speaking in an alien language to you. You understood all the words he said, but they simply didn’t make sense to you. Mingi always wanted to skate singles, there was no reason he should change his mind now. You directed your look of utter shock and confusion to Mingi, who looked at you, smiling like a puppy. 

“You’re joking right, Minks?” you asked, “you’ve been avoiding pairs like the plague for so long.”

“I’m really not,” he started, smile melting away, “I don’t want to see you give up after so long, so I might as well try it out. And plus I hated seeing the hands of those douchebags on you.” he finished jokingly, with the corner of his lip tucked in a smirk. You slapped him on the shoulder in attempts to distract from your increasingly flustered state. 

“Be serious,” you scolded him before turning to your coach, “would that even work, coach?” He shrugged. 

“I mean I’ve taught both of you all this time, and purely considering skill level and logistics, it would work out,” he said, “He has the full capability to be able to lift and throw you, it would just be the training to make sure none of you die during it,” His tone reeled a laugh from both you and Mingi, his more of nervousness than amusement. You did see where he was coming from though, as you snuck a glance at Mingi’s toned arms and chest, which were highlighted by the sleekness of his shirt as your coach continued, “the two of you also grew up together, so the chemistry and teamwork definitely wouldn’t be a problem.” You nodded, exchanging a quick smile with Mingi. The three of you stood, looking at one another.

“Well I’ll tell you what. I can give you guys a basic routine, and y/n you’ll already have some experience, this is mostly for Mingi,” your coach spoke, “and we can see just purely preliminarily, if this would work out. Does that work for you guys?” 

“Sounds good, coach,” Mingi said. You nodded ecstatically, before going to your designated locker, and slipping on your skates. After arduously tying up the intricate laces, you hopped on the ice. Sometimes, skating came easier than walking for you. The cold air of the rink fully hit your face. It was a feeling you’d grown to love over the years, serving like a shot of caffeine, and waking you up. Mingi followed right behind you, joining you by your side. 

“Be honest, Minks, do you even know what pairs skating entails?” you asked, looking at him with an eyebrow cocked. He hummed, tapping a finger on his chin in thought. 

“I’ve seen a few videos of it, and I’ve watched you do it for years,” he replied, ending almost accusatively, earning a scoff from you. The most exposure to pairs skating he got was from your competitions. Even then, he was too focused on how your partner was gripping you tightly, almost a little too sensually to be excused off as ‘performance effect’. You could see annoyance and jealousy bubble up in his face as he thought, his brows knitting together. Secretly, you’d always wished it was him as your partner. Deep down, you’d dreamed of his hands on you, him lifting you up with his strong arms, gliding along the ice to classical music with him. But you never told him, you didn’t want to cross that line. 

“I’ll take that as a no then,” you said. It was endearing how he was willing to try. Your coach then led the two of you through some of the most basic types of moves, which was easy on your end, since you’d been doing this for years. But you could sense a little bit of struggle fro Mingi. Every time he instructed Mingi to keep a hand on you, or hold you, you could see his ears dust pink as he placed his hands on your waist. His flustered state made you giggle. Even though this was your first time skating as a pair ever, you already could envision the two of you taking the world stage. It was an image that made you ecstatic, that made your heart glow warm like hot iron. After going through, and discussing some more with your coach, he deemed the two of you fit as a pair. Neither of you contested against that decision. 

“Then do I still need to train today?” Mingi asked, hand still placed lightly on the small of your back, which drew your focus away from his words. You knew that boy was lazier than anything, would die at any opportunity to just laze around in bed. If it weren’t for his burning passion for the sport, he would’ve given up a long time ago. 

“Well, not really unless you want to, and knowing you, you don’t,” your coach said to him, reading your thoughts exactly, “but I will see the two of you here tomorrow bright and early. No slacking off, Mingi.” He continued, pointing a finger at Mingi, who laughed at his callout and raised his hands up defenselessly. With one last wave, your coach was off, leaving the two of you alone. Your heart swelled, realizing that you didn’t have to give up, and now you had your best friend by your side, something you dismissed for years as a foolish, childhood dream.

“You heard him, princess, no slacking off,” you joked as you skated past him and back onto the normal floor with a little stumble. 

“Hey, you shouldn’t be bullying your new partner like this,” he said, acting hurt with a pout that tugged at your heartstrings. Stirring the pot, you played into it. 

“Oh I’m so sorry little baby, will getting ramen for dinner tonight make up for my bullying?” You said, giving his cheeks a pinch. His skin was soft, and felt like a marshmallow on your fingertips. 

“I guess,” he said, “but only if you pay.” You rolled your eyes at him again, as a cheeky grin grew on his face. 

“I don’t know why I indulge you sometimes,” you said, untying the laces of your ivory ice skates and throwing them in their bag. 

The path to your favorite ramen store was ingrained deeply in the memory of your muscles just as all the turns and jumps of figure skating were. The savory smell of pork broth greeted the two of you, along with the warmth of the store compared to the chilliness of the frigid winter air. A waitress led the two of you to the counter-side seats, taking your orders which both of you knew by heart as you sat down. As she left, you sighed, feeling Mingi’s eyes on you. 

“What kind of routine are we going to do?” he asked, inquisitive, and a little bit startled. 

“I mean my other partner did kind of abandon me in the middle of a routine we have scheduled, so if you’re cool with it you can just take over on that,” you said, and trying to reassure him, “if you find certain things too hard that’s okay, we can adjust it to be what you’re comfortable with. Do you wanna hear the piece I chose?” Mingi nodded, his leg bouncing lightly. You took out your earbuds, handing one to him. The piece was called Nostalgia, by one of your favorite composers, Joe Hisaishi. You looked at him anticipatingly as you clicked play. The first piano chord rang out, followed by the strings.

“Ah yeah I’ve heard this playing before when you were practicing,” he said. You noticed the tension in his shoulders melt away a bit, and his head swayed lightly to the music. He tapped his feet to the rhythm. You nodded. The piece, according to its name, brought you an unbridled amount of nostalgia. It was the kind that you weren’t sure if it was about your own memories, as images of rolling meadows and oil-painting clouds flooded your mind. It was the kind of nostalgia that felt like sunshine tickling your skin with its warmth, like thin dresses and blouses swaying in the breeze. A wave of euphoria washed over you, your expression settling into a tranquil smile as the piece played in your ears. As the final notes rang out, you opened your eyes, gaze meeting Mingi’s. 

“So, did you like it?” you asked, he nodded eagerly. 

“It’s amazing,” he said, eyes glimmering from the warm yellow lights of the restaurant. Soon enough, your ramen was set in front of you, along with a serving of fried chicken Mingi had ordered in the name of celebration. You just knew he was ordering it because you were paying. 

“So do I have to throw you?” he asked after taking a few bites of his noodles. You nodded, eyes meeting his to see the anxiousness in his gaze. Mingi was someone with a strong sense of duty and responsibility, and you knew just based off his words alone that he was terrified out of his head over even the possibility of injuring you. Seeing his little nervous nod, you smiled. 

“You’ll be fine, Minks, I’ve been doing this for years. I know how to stick a landing, or at least ensure I come out of it alive,” you joked, “and we both know you can lift me easily. With a bit of practice I know you can do it.” Mingi looked at you as if asking if you really meant what you said, which was met with a pat on the shoulder from you. You lifted the apple juice you ordered in a toast. 

“Here, cheers to the start of our partnership!” you said. Adorning a gummy smile, Mingi’s glass of water met yours with a light clink. The two of you scarfed down the rest of your noodles, accompanied by occasional conversations and quiet laughter. 

You were doing some warm up jumps when Mingi skated up to you. He rubbed his eyes, tired, grumbling how early it was in the morning. Too early for him. You looked at the digital clock that was hanging on the wall. Not only was he not late today, he was 10 minutes early. 

“Sleep well, princess?” you asked. Mingi’s lips stretched into a thin line, giving you a nod. While you guys continued warming up, your coach skated up to you. Upon seeing Mingi, his eyes flew open.

“Wow, I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you arrive early to practice. This proactive for y/n, huh?” he said with a laugh, which also earned one from you. Mingi shrugged, a coy smirk on his face. Your coach then explained what you had told him last night, that the two of you would continue with the already choreographed routine for the upcoming competition. He explained that there were 2 throws, and a lift that he had to complete, and that is what you would be working on. Although the two of you were slightly short on time, as the competition was set to take place in two months, you were dead set on winning. One look at Mingi, and you could tell he shared the same goal, the tiredness in his gaze now replaced with determination. And of course, fear.

“Uh, coach, what if, what if I drop her when lifting her?” he asked. Your coach gave a smile, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Easy,” he started, “you don’t.” Mingi looked even more nervous at his response. You placed a hand on his forearm, which was slung across his chest. 

“You won’t,” you said, emphasizing the ‘won’t’. Mingi gulped, giving you a slight nod. After leading Mingi through most of the choreographed bits of the routine with the music playing, save for the throws and lifts, you could tell he was getting a better idea of what he had to do. You taught him some of the arm movements for the segments where the two of you skate in sync with each other, which he picked up with ease. His fast learning skills compensated for his laziness. Your coach then brought the two of you off the ice to practice the lift, due the insistence of Mingi. You heard his breath hitch when he held your waist. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, mumbling. You weren’t sure if he was asking you if his hold was correct, or if you were okay with him touching you. 

“It’s fine, but you’re gonna need to hold onto me tighter than that, Minks, or else I’m just gonna slip right out of your hands,” you said, looking at him. His cheeks dusted pink, as he nodded, tightening his grip. You couldn’t suppress the smile that grew on your face. You pressed your back against his chest subtly, or as subtly as you could, reveling in the warmth that he radiated. Coach walked him through the basic dos and don’ts of lifts, and after giving him a nod, Mingi hoisted you up in one swift motion. Your eyes widened at how effortless he made it seem. Even some of your past partners had a struggle lifting, but Mingi didn’t. I mean his toned, muscular arms and broad shoulders did give away why he found it easy. You let out a shocked laugh, as Mingi giggled beneath you. 

“See I told you you could do it,” you said as he set you down carefully, like you were made of glass, “I just didn’t know it would be that easy for you. You’re a born pairs skater, Minks.” He beamed at your compliment, a hand traveling to his nape. 

“That was good, now you just have to do it on ice, while you are skating,” your coach explained. 

“Light work,” Mingi joked, more bashful than cocky. He did indeed make light work of it, though through your laughs as you soared through the air, you could see him wince a little in trying to keep balance. 

“For a first lift, that was pretty good,” your coach started, “you could work on form a bit, but those are technical. You guys actually give me hope that we can get this done in two months.” The two of you exchanged smiles with each other, excited, anxious, and everything in between.

The next month passed by in a blur. Days that were once silent and long for Mingi turned into ones full of brightness and laughter with you by his side. For you, there was always a bit of awkwardness and tension when it came to interactions with your previous partners, but that was nonexistent when it came to being with Mingi. Although practice was physically taxing and arduous, it was hard not to be happy and enjoy it with your best friend by your side. From lunches on the bleachers by the rinks, to late nights and hushed laughter on the ice. From leaning on his shoulder when you were drowsy and your entire body ached, to massaging his neck, kneading out all the knots inside of it. These were the moments you learned to treasure as the competition descended upon you. 

Working with a choreographer, the entire routine came together. And as the two of you practiced, Mingi grew more and more confident in himself, and you could see the joy on his face whenever you two did a successful run-through. Emotion also started to come through, as now familiar with the technical movements, you both put your own interpretations of them. With Mingi, it looked natural. The poetic and ethereal aspects of your routine came naturally. The story came naturally. It wasn’t something either of you had to force. He was your favorite partner by far, and you knew that if he ever decided to go back to skating singles, you could never find someone who beats him. 

The incident happened on a particularly long training day, three weeks until the competition. It was late, and the two of you were doing one last go-through of all the lifts and throws. You could tell Mingi was in pain and extremely tired, based on the winces he tried to hide from you. You’d also suggested that the two of you call it a day, and head home. But he was insistent, as there was one throw that he couldn’t quite get. He was set on getting it down before the end of your training session that day. You were growing tired too, but you figured one last run couldn’t really hurt. As he let go of you, tossing you into the air, you felt a sharp ache of pain in the muscle of your calf. The jolt disoriented you, which caused you to lose your orientation, and panic. Mingi had acted too slow, watching you tumble onto the ice in front of him instead of being able to catch you. 

“Y/N!” Mingi yelled, dropping to his knees frantically. You were lucky, as you’d just landed pretty hard on your butt. It was nowhere near the worst fall you’d ever suffered, and being an ice skater, you had your rodeo with falling on the ice, or getting cut by the blades of your ice skates. But combined with the intense and jagged pain in your leg, you couldn’t really move too much. Mingi pulled you up and into his lap as you rubbed your leg, a stream of curses leaving your lips. As the pain dulled, you felt your senses come back to you. Mingi’s hands were patting you all over your body, trying to check for any major injuries. Aside from some small scrapes, a few cuts, and a bruise, you were completely okay. But Mingi was panicked, frantically scanning you with his eyes to 

“I’m okay, Mingi,” you exhaled, “just a leg cramp that’s all.” You winced, your calf muscle now sore. Mingi’s eyes refused to leave you, still full of worry. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t catch you properly,” he said, dejected, “I should’ve listened to you, we’re both way too tired. I’m so sorry.” You let out a pained laugh. 

“It’s fine, Minks, it’s not your fault my leg decided to give out,” you assured him. 

“But it is my fault that I didn’t catch you,” he said. You looked at him, both endeared and sad over how he held himself so accountable. You turned your focus to your leg, where a scrape had begun seeping a trail of red down your calves. Mingi followed your eyes, and jolted up in panic at the sight of it. He skated away fast, and returned not even a minute later with alcohol wipes, and a bandage. With a touch as light as a feather, he started to wipe at the wound on your knee. When you would wince, his movements became even slower, and even more gentle. He worked diligently, cleaning up the blood and flakes of ice on your knee, before putting the bandage on it. Giving it another tap for good measure, he finally met your gaze. You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was being hard on himself. That he still felt guilty. You put a hand on his cheek reassuringly, caressing it lightly. He melted at your touch, leaning into your palm. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” you said, “this is not your fault, okay? I refuse to let you take the blame for something that you didn’t do.” You held his gaze. He nodded, smiling. You beamed, light laughter escaping your lips. He joined you, as the two of you sat together on the ice. You leaned into him, laying your head on his chest. His hand rose and landed on the back of your head, stroking your hair gently. His heartbeat pounded in your ears. 

“Let’s go home. We can work on the move tomorrow,” he said with a sigh, and a weak smile. You nodded against him, before he pulled you up. 

From that point on, Mingi never dropped you. Sure, the two of you still took your tumbles, but he never dropped you. Even when you did mess up your turns in the air, he would make sure to catch you no matter what. 

When it came time to try on your costumes, Mingi was beyond excited. Walking into the boutique, he was babbling like a little kid about how ecstatic he was that the outfits would be matching and complementary to each other. But he didn’t know the surprise you had planned for him. You’d secretly told your stylist and costume designer to make the two of your costumes themed after koi fish. Splashes of oranges, blacks, whites, with accents of gold littered the costumes. The ends of your skirt looked frilly, like the fins of a koi fish. The gems made the effect even more pronounced, mirroring the shimmery, rhinestone-like appearance of actual koi scales. It made sense too, as nostalgia washed over you when you saw the fish swimming joyfully in his backyard. Your eyes were fixed on Mingi when she walked out, your custom tailored, hand-sewn costumes in her hands. His jaw dropped, realizing what he was seeing. You couldn’t help but giggle at his joy. He held his outfit in his hands, running a finger over all the jewels and gems sewn on. His eyes glinted brighter than the gems did. 

“Like it, huh?” you remarked. He looked at you, diamonds swimming in his eyes, a gummy grin plastered on his face. 

“You’re the best,” he said. Your heart pounded at the sincerity in his words. Your designer ushered the two of you to try the outfits on, just to make sure all the sizing and customizing was suitable. Emerging from the changing room, the sight of Mingi in his costume transfixed you. The way its sleekness hugged his body, defining the muscles in his arms and chest. The colors looked stunning on him, and you could see the freckles on his chest due to the deeper cut the costume had. He looked like a sculpture, perfect, ideal. You coughed, trying to take your eyes off of him. His eyes were stuck on you the entire time, and you could feel them roam all over your body before snapping away in shyness. Neither of you spoke, standing, facing each other, cheeks and ears pink like cherry blossom petals. 

“How are you expecting me to skate well when you look like this,” Mingi said with a slight airiness in his voice, “you’re beautiful.” You knew he meant his words, and they weren’t just an empty compliment that a previous partner may have given you. And from the way he looked away from you when he said it, you knew he was scared of your reaction to his confession. You shoved him lightly, mumbling under your breath, which caused him to chuckle. It signaled the effect that his words had on you. 

And before you knew it, it was the day before your competition. After a taxing flight, the two of you were finally in the hotel, dragging along your suitcases with your skates slung over your shoulder. You were clad in matching athletic sweatsuits, dark blue, that your coach forced the two of you to wear, despite incessant complaints from you about how it looked dumb. The outfits made you attract some stares, but none that were overly judgemental. Your grumbling to Mingi about how idiotic the two of you looked was abruptly interrupted when your coach turned to face the two of you. The two of you looked like kids who were caught in the middle of breaking rules. 

“So, do I need to get separate rooms for the two of you? Or can you handle staying in the same room as each other?” His accusatory question caught the two of you off guard. You’d grown up with each other, so sleeping in the same room was definitely not new to you. But something had changed between the two of you. Your gazes, still full of love and adoration from each other, also contained something deeper. A kind of longing, yearning that words couldn’t describe. The idea of sleeping in the same room as him now made your heart jump in excitement, and your face heat up. 

“What are you talking about, coach, we can totally handle ourselves. We aren’t horny teenagers,” Mingi responded with a laugh, which earned a slap on the shoulder from you. His words did nothing to convince your coach, and if anything, he was set off even more. 

“Minks what the hell,” you sighed, “but yeah, getting one room is fine. We grew up together, we can handle ourselves.” Your words seemed to be more effective. 

“Sure, but I need a promise that no funny business is going to occur tonight. I don’t need a scandal or an injury from the two of you a day before the competition, got it?” he asked sternly. You both nodded, before he handed you the room key, and told you two to go settle down. 

The room looked out to the city, as the lights of the buildings blinked outside like fireflies in a meadow. Floral wallpaper covered the walls, and a decently sized television stood atop the large cupboard like a flag stake in a mountain. There were two beds, lined perfectly with white sheets and plump pillows. It was a standard room, a little bland if anything. 

“I claim the bed in the corner,” Mingi said as he threw himself on the bed, as you realized how when the two of you slept in the same room, it was usually always in the same bed. But you also hadn’t slept in the same room as Mingi since you were children. 

“Whatever you want, princess,” you huffed, sitting down at the glass desk that was in the corner of the room. You looked blankly at your phone in your hand, mind wandering. You weren’t too nervous, well, the fact that this was your first competition skating with Mingi did set you off, but not an abnormal amount. Mingi, on the other hand, had looked anxious out of his mind the entire day, though he vehemently denied being scared. But the neverending bouncing of his leg, the hushed mumbles he spoke to himself, and the pained huffs he let out gave him away. This was the first time he looked relaxed today, lying limply on the bed, facing the ceiling. An idea sparked in your head, as you pulled out a stack of intricately patterned origami papers from your backpack. You thought about how before every single one of your performances or competitions, Mingi would fold a paper koi for you. You’d collected them throughout the years, having a dedicated shelf to them. It became your little ritual, and you sometimes blamed your poor performance on the fact he didn’t make a koi for you that time. You weren’t planning on letting that tradition die. Not tonight. 

“Minks, wanna make paper koi?” he immediately sprung up, a smile stretching across his lips. 

“Is that even a question? We have to,” he said, pulling up the chair by the small coffee table to join you at the circular desk. You laid out all the origami paper you had. Some of them had traditional Japanese artworks on them, while others had small patterns, and others were simply plain. Mingi chose an orange one with gold waves on it, and you chose one with delicate cranes pictured on it. 

“You’re gonna have to teach me though,” you said. Mingi scoffed, like he wasn’t affected by the challenge. He patiently led you through each fold, never growing annoyed at you, even when you growed annoyed at yourself for not being able to get it. He only smiled, and placed his hands over yours, gently guiding you through the movements. You looked up at him, the slight smile on his face, and the passion and excitement in his eyes. This was your favorite Mingi, one who was so focused on doing something he loved. Your heart swelled seeing him, gentle words of encouragement spilling from his lips as he continued to fold his own koi. Being unable to hold yourself back, you placed a quick peck on his cheek. Instantaneously, he tensed up, eyes blown open in shock, mouth hanging slightly agape. His koi fell to the table. You put a hand over your mouth realizing what you’d just done. 

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I don’t know why I mmphmm-,” you started, cut off when Mingi removed the hand you were using to cover your lips, replacing it with his lips instead. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you felt him lace your fingers together, holding your hand tightly. At first, the two of you were both frozen, but he started moving against your lips, which was more than welcome on your end. Mingi kissed you with diligence, the kind of diligence you only saw when he was extremely passionate about something. There was also a fervor to his movements, one that stemmed from a fiery yearning that was finally being quelled inside of him. His hand lay gentle on your face, but firm, as he tilted your chin to allow his lips to slot better with yours. Your lips moved against each other’s together in a soothing harmony. Taking on a life of their own, your hands found the soft, silky tufts of his ebony hair, and combed through them. You could feel all the tension and fear melt away as he kissed you. Sparks flew inside of you as you hoisted yourself closer to him when he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. The gesture reeled a pining mewl from you, as you parted your lips slightly to let his tongue into your mouth, feeling it explore. Just as heat started to coil in your core, he pulled himself away from you. You looked at him through lidded eyes, taking in the deep red of his cheeks, and the glisten of his lips. He ran a hand through his hair frantically before picking up his koi, hands shaking slightly. Confusion riddled your gaze as you observed him, entertained by his flusteredness.

“I need to hold back,” he muttered to himself under his breath, “where was I?” he said before making a few more folds, which reeled a laugh from you. He looked at you, embarrassed and shy, with a lovestruck gaze. 

“What are you laughing at?” he asked innocently, which almost made you forget the way he kissed you a mere few seconds beforehand. 

“Nothing, you’re just too cute, princess,” you said, caressing his neck and placing a kiss on his jaw. You could feel his breath hitch at your touch. 

“You’re going to kill me, you know that?” he whispered, before his lips came crashing into yours again, leaving you no time to respond to him. This time, the kiss was more heated, as if Mingi was trying to take you in, trying to drink you up like ambrosia. You pulled him into you, hands slung tightly around his neck. When you broke apart, a thread of saliva connected the two of you. Mingi was properly disheveled, panting heavily like he’d just been running for his life. 

“We need to focus, y/n,” he stated, trying to control the shake in his voice as he went back to folding his koi yet again. You could tell his willpower was wearing thin. 

“I’m very focused, thank you,” you teased, “I think it’s you who’s distracted, baby.” The nickname caused his breath to get caught in his throat. 

“How can I not be when you say things like that?” he said, lips meeting yours for the third time that night. You were more than happy to indulge him, your lips stretching into a smile against his. The two of you settled into a languid pace, emotion and pining for each other fueling the both of your movements. He tasted of caramel and home. He felt like home. His lips on you, his hand on your face and your waist. It was home. He was your home. You’d wanted him for so long, and finally kissing him, you felt euphoric. When your lips finally parted again, you pressed your foreheads together. You shut your eyes, trying to ingrain this moment into your mind. Mingi’s chest heaved, as your gazes met. Taking his face in your hands, you kissed the tip of his nose chastely. 

“I’ve been dreaming of that for so long, Minks,” you hummed. 

“Me too,” he said with a content sigh, “you don’t even know.” He pecked your cheeks, as the both of you turned back to the task at hand. Finishing the koi, which would have taken Mingi five minutes maximum if he were doing it alone, took the two of you about an hour, because he couldn’t keep his hands, and lips, off of you. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics as the two of you worked. After finishing them, you sat together, hand in hand, admiring your works of art. Your good luck charms were finally made, and it was even more special, since you’d made them together.

After you’d both washed up, you tucked yourselves into your respective beds. Even though you were under the thick comforter, you still shivered from the cold. Mingi looked hesitant while laying down too, which made you wonder if he was thinking the same thing as you were. Your suspicions were confirmed when he outstretched his arms, gesturing for you to go over to him. Settling in his embrace, you let out a sigh. Only with you pressed flush against his chest did you feel warm again. You felt him pull the covers higher, and placed his hands on the small of your back. This was what you’d grown up with, sleeping in your twin sized bed shoulder to shoulder, having no room to toss or turn. It was a bit better now though, the bed was bigger, and you were in his arms, where you were meant to be. Sleep came easy now that his arms were around you like a fortress, and you felt your consciousness slip away as Mingi placed a soft, long kiss on the crown of your head. 

The two of you walked down to the competition stadium, hand in hand. Greeting your coach with a chipper hello that you were shocked you could even muster up, the two of you started to put on your skates. You finished up first, walking up to your coach, who had a cautious look on his face. 

“You seem happier than usual,” he said. You hummed. 

“Just excited to be competing with Mingi, you know,” you responded, the real reason for your happiness concealed. You heard Mingi chuckle from behind you, joining you by your side. 

“No funny business last night?” he asked. You raised your hands, and Mingi shook his head to signal innocence. If the funny business he was talking about meant making origami and kissing each other, then you would both be high-level offenders. But you were sure it wasn’t, so for all he has to know, the two of you were completely innocent. Your coach nodded. 

The day passed quickly, after a few runs of your routine, changing into your costumes, and getting your makeup done, the competition was starting. The two of you watched the audience file in, filling the place to the brim. Mingi gulped, brows scrunching together. You raised your hands to his face, gently scratching the area behind his ears like he was a puppy. His expression softened at your touch. Out of your peripheral, you saw your coach scoff jokingly, and shake his head. 

The two of you were slated to go last. All the other contestants were talented, you could admit, but a lot of them lacked chemistry with their partner. You inhaled, knowing that it was something you didn’t have to worry about. Mingi had a hand on your thigh, while he pointed at the pairs, commenting on everything and anything. Their music choice, their outfits, their form. You knew he was doing it to distract himself, as it neared your turn. 

The very moment you’d been dreading, but anticipating for months finally arrived, as the two of you were ushered onto the ice, and came into your starting positions. You took one last shaky breath, as the music started. That familiar piano chord rang out, which signaled the start of your routine. The two of you glided flawlessly on the ice. You could see the fear and determination in Mingi’s gaze as you approached your first throw of the routine. You gave him a slight nod, before he tossed you. You felt your body twist elegantly in the air, as you stuck your arms out for a perfect landing. Applause erupted from the audience, and a smile grew on Mingi’s lips. As the music continued, the two of you found your rhythm, letting the emotion sing out in your gestures and expressions. His eyes glinted, as you took in the dazzling sight of him. The next throws came easily to the two of you, with you landing in his arms, just as the two of you practiced. There was one lift left, which you two completed with ease as the violins rang out, coming to a stop as the music quieted. The tips of your fingers met, as you two stood in the center of the rink. That was it. You were done. As the applause and cheers from the audience roared, Mingi broke into a beam, as you leapt into his arms. He held you tight, voice choked with sobs as you held each other, kneeling on the ice because your legs had given out. His body warmth was pleasant when paired with the cold air of the rink. You broke apart from each other, him placing a kiss on your cheek. A realization washed over you, you wanted Mingi to be with you in everything. Both as a partner in the domestic comfort of your home, but also under the dazzling lights of the ice rink. Tears fell out of your eyes, and you both were teary messes leaving the rink. Your coach pulled both of you into a hug, shaking Mingi in his arms, telling him how perfect he was for his first ever competition. Mingi had his arm around you as you waited for your score to be displayed. A gasp left your lips as you saw the number flash up. It puts you in second place. Mingi screamed, high-fiving your coach as the two of them roared with joy. Your eyes met again, as you felt the tears streaming down your face when he hugged you again. 

“We did it, we did it, we actually did it,” Mingi said with a laugh, burying his face into your shoulder. 

“We did it, Minks, we did it,” you echoed. The fact that you were in second place did not bother either of you, as the joy of being by Mingi’s side overwhelmed everything. The two of you could now share your dream with each other, basking in the glory of being each other's partner. And silently, in your heart, you thanked the paper koi. The paper koi, a symbol of good luck for the two of you, and a symbol of your love for each other.

[alxdelusional]

 Different Idea of ‘Destressing’

⭒Pairing: Non-idol! Wooyoung x College student! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Smut, a little bit of fluff (but not with very fluffy intentions ;))

⭒Synopsis: You were just minding your own business on your most recent runthrough of the game Hades while trying to destress, when your boyfriend Wooyoung decided to join you, annoy you, and distract you.

⭒Warnings: Smutty insanely smutty smut (MDNI!!), wooyoung menace agenda, mentions of stress from school, my personal struggles while playing Hades

⭒Al's thoughts: I simply cannot see Wooyoung in a very fluffy way, even though he's very cute and very affectionate, he's also very sensual. So enjoy this little Woofic.

⭒Word count: 2.00 K

You booted up your Nintendo Switch, and without wasting a minute, opened up your favorite game, Hades. It was your favorite for many reasons, the art style, the character design, and the fact that it could essentially be boiled down to mindless slaughter, and slightly strategic button mashing. You could already feel some of the stress that the overwhelming amount of work your courses needed washing away when you heard the metallic slash of the sword, and the homepage music. When the stress became too overwhelming, your favorite way to get rid of it was by feeling the joysticks rumble in your hands as you obliterated pixelated enemies, wishing secretly that they were the people who annoyed you. You’d purposely set the difficulty higher than normal, wanting a challenge. Satisfied after messing around with the settings, as well as your skillset, you chose the Twin fists of Malphon as your weapon. In times like these, you just needed the weapon that would allow you to plow through the monsters the fastest, and the speedy attack style of the twin fists allowed for that. Letting out a sigh, with the click of a button, you began your escape attempt. 

You were starting the first boss battle against the furies, when your boyfriend, Jung Wooyoung, joined you. 

“Ooh, who’s this one?” he asked, sitting down next to you on the couch. He was no stranger to Hades at this point, as he’d watched you play it countless times throughout the year that the two of you have been dating. And he knew that each time you booted it up, stress was eating away at you. This time was no different, and you knew he knew that. 

“Megara,” you answered, not taking your eyes off the screen. Even though you’d beaten the game many times at this point, she was still one of the most challenging bosses to you. You noted the smell of shampoo on him, signaling that he’d just come out of the shower. 

“Oh she’s the one with the whip, right?” he asked with a smile. You rolled your eyes. Of course that was the detail he would remember. 

“Yes, she is, Wooyoung,” you responded. He laughed, proud at himself, as you continued through the battle. Because of the buffs that you had collected up until then, the battle was relatively easy. With one last punch, the screen turned black, signaling Megara’s defeat. Her voiceline aired out, as you let out a sigh of relaxation. Wooyoung gave you a small round of applause with a nod. 

“I bet I could’ve done that,” he said confidently. You knew he was bluffing, so you handed the controllers to him, which you were met with vehement denial about. He shrunk, which drew a laugh from you, as you proceeded. The next segment of the game, Asphodel, was only slightly more difficult than that of Tartarus. If anything, most of the damage you took was from the lava, and miscalculations on where you landed after a sprint, ending up in the magma pool. You could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on you as you cursed under your breath when a battle got too difficult. You had faith in this run, hoping that you would break your personal record for the speed. The luck you had was insane, every boon you needed, you got. This was it. You grinned in glory, watching the monsters die wave by wave at your fingertips. You were zeroed in. Your boyfriend being there wasn’t much help though. Every other minute, he would ask another question, sometimes about the game, and other times about Greek mythology. You answered as best you could, trying to manage both the gameplay, and him. You could feel your brows furrowed in concentration, and the smirk that it reeled from him definitely did not go unnoticed by you. You couldn’t tell if he was proud of annoying you, or if he had other intentions. 

Then it started, with his hand suddenly sneaking under your hoodie, which was one of his, amidst your battle against the hydra. You were trying to explain to him the different phases of the boss, and let out an audible yelp of surprise when you felt his warm, slender fingers on your skin. 

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly, going to retract his hand. Even though he seemed apologetic, you knew he was giggling internally at how he caught you off guard. 

“No, it’s fine, you can continue,” you responded, gulping, “I was just surprised, that’s all.” With a content smile, he hummed, continuing. You could feel his fingers dragging painstakingly slow down your sides, sending shivers down your spine. He scooted to sit even closer to you, to the point where your back was pressed against his chest. The hydra was an easy boss though, if it were any harder to fight you might have actually died. This continued for a while, before his other hand somehow found its way under your shirt too. You knew he was planning something, but you were way too focused on your game to pay any mind to him. He started to massage the knots out of your back and your neck as you made your way through Asphodel. You could feel his hands, as well as his breath stutter as he realized you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your hoodie. A sigh of relaxation escaped you as his hands worked their magic on you. 

“Sorry if I’m distracting you, baby,” he said, tone laden with something far from innocent. 

“No, don’t worry, I’m completely focused,” your reply earned a huff from him. After he was done, his hands went back down to resting on your stomach, as he pulled you against his chest. You sighed, thinking that was the end of his terrorization of your focus. 

You were proven insanely wrong when his hands began creeping up your front, stopping at your breasts. A gasp slipped out of your mouth as he began massaging them, and cupping them in his hands. You could feel sweat build up in your palms, making it harder to grip onto the controllers in your hands. Focus began to slip away from you as you felt your throat grow dry at his touch. His fingers grazed over your nipples, and you tried to conceal the sound of your pleasure with a cough. You could feel him laugh, and his lips latching onto your neck. Nevertheless, you persisted, now approaching Theseus and the Minotaur, the bosses of Elysium. You tried to ground yourself, trying your best to only take in the gameplay. It was hard though, Wooyoung was really good with his fingers. Your breath hitched when he lightly pinched one of them. As hard as he was making it, the adrenaline that the boss fight gave you made it only slightly difficult to tune him out. Your gameplay, once polished and strategic, was becoming sloppier and more careless as your boyfriend sucked the skin on your neck. You were almost at the final boss battle with Hades when you felt his hands travel downward. 

“Wooyoung, whatever you’re planning, don’t,” you muttered breathlessly as you began the boss battle. You were so close to beating the game. Just a few more minutes of enduring him and his antics, and you could finally put the controllers down, and give him the attention he desired. He hummed, dejected, but not relenting. 

“How can I not when you’re so sexy when you’re focused?” he whispered into your ear, “I just want to make my baby feel good.” Your heart jumped as his hands snuck under your sweatpants. Hades was entering his second phase, and you had no more revives left. You had to focus, but he was making that a remotely impossible task. 

“Still focused? Don’t wanna distract you,” he teased, full well knowing he was distracting you. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, as he slipped a finger into your soaked heat. You bit down hard on your lip, not wanting to give into him. Your health was dangerously low, but so was Hades. You had faith, but that faith slipped away from you when the heel of his hand found your clit. A stifled moan left your lips, much to the joy of Wooyoung. 

“Does my girl like it when I play with her little clit like this?” he snarled into your ear, voice dropping an octave. You nodded, your legs trying to close around his veiny wrist out of instinct. He held your legs open firmly. You fumbled with the controller, trying to still maintain your attention on the game. One more hit, and you would be dead, and this run would be unsuccessful. He pulled a moan from you when he stuck another one of his slender, long fingers into you. You felt your eyes flutter shut as he did, not even paying any mind to the death voiceline that played, signaling your loss. You leaned your face into his neck, fully laying against him, quietly sighing into his skin. He chuckled as you settled onto his chest. 

“Am I making you feel good?” he whispered, seeing the controllers fall limp as your hands landed by your side. You whined in response, “I asked you a question.” 

“Yes, Woo,” you mumbled, “so good, so good.” You felt your judgment and all your thoughts slip away as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting the spot that made you arch your back against him. Before long, you felt your release approaching, and with one airy cry, you came undone.

“Woo, I want you in me,” you muttered against his neck, coming down from your high. The laugh that came out of him rumbled in his throat. 

“What, was coming on my fingers not enough for my girl?” he teased. You hit him lightly, as pleasure continued to capsize you. Within a minute, he had you under him. As you tried to remove the hoodie still on you, he stopped you.

“I want to fuck you with it on,” he said “you know how much it turns me on when you wear my clothes.” His words alone caused you to whine. He removed his own shirt, revealing his defined chest. You raised a hand to trace along his sculpted muscles, feeling how sturdy they were beneath your fingertips. He slid into you with ease due to how well he worked you open, and how much you wanted him. You could hear him groan above you, curses leaving his mouth. You could feel him pulse inside of you, which sent electricity flying through you, heat coiling in your core. 

“Fuck, if you keep clenching around me I’m not gonna last,” he said into your hair, holding himself still and collecting his breath. When he was ready, he started moving. A high pitched moan that you did nothing to conceal left you, which Wooyoung drunk up as his lips met yours, before they traversed down your jaw, and onto your neck. He rammed into you, each time hitting the spot that made you cry out. Shifting you, he swung your legs over his shoulders, allowing him to angle into you even deeper. With the way he felt inside of you, and how fast his hips were snapping into yours, you felt another high quickly approaching. 

“Wooyoung, I’m gonna come,” you stuttered out. He cursed under his heavy breath, and you knew he wasn’t far behind you. 

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he mumbled. And with one last snap of his hips, you were both unraveling. You could feel him pull you onto his chest as you came down from your second high. 

“What do you say about that for destressing, hm?” he chuckled innocently while wrapping his arms around you, which almost made you forget the sinful words he was just spouting a few minutes prior. 

“Our ideas of destressing are very different,” you said with a sigh, cuddling into him, “but I liked yours better. Much better.”

[alxdelusional]

Rendezvous With Destiny (2/2)

Part 2: Better Than Me

Part 1 (here!) | Part 2

⭒Pairing: Royal Advisor! Hongjoong x General and bodyguard! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Fantasy AU, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

⭒Synopsis: Prince Seonghwa’s father has passed away, now leaving him and his wife to be the king and queen of your kingdom. As his right hand woman, best friend, and once lover, he promotes you to be his general. It was great, you got paid more, you got to spend more time with your best friend, and his wife, whom you were warming up to. The only downside is that now you now have to work with the king and queen’s annoying royal advisor, Kim Hongjoong. 

⭒Warnings: Smut scene! (MDNI), Injury (stab wound), the name Yerin is used (no basis in reality!!), Minor (mentioned) character death

⭒Al's thoughts: I'll tell you a secret, this is my favorite part of this little 2 part series. Though Seonghwa's part was fun to write, this one holds a special spot in my heart. This is actually my favorite fic I've written thus far, out of the many that I don't even have posted.

⭒Word count: 6.21 K 

You didn’t believe in destiny anymore after it yanked your lover, Prince Seonghwa, away from you. It had been a few months since, but your relationship with destiny had not healed one bit. You thought it was just a lie told by elders to children to give them a false hope about the world. To shield them from its cruel nature. You cursed yourself for ever believing that destiny was real. 

But you stayed by Seonghwa’s side. Not like you really had a choice, because you were still his, and now his wife’s bodyguard. Your love for him, did overtime simmer back to something like it was before you began longing for him. It was undeniable that the two of you were still best friends. You’d also started to get closer to the princess, Yerin. And once you had, all of Seonghwa’s compliments about her made sense. If you thought Seonghwa had a pure, kind soul, hers would have looked angelic by comparison. She was beautiful, undoubtedly, having an effortless gracefulness to her that you’d only really seen in novels. Her smile was radiant, and she was authentic, not like many of the other aristocrats the two of you were constantly surrounded with. As much as you hated it at the time, the two of you immediately clicked, and now it was regular for the two of you to be seen around the palace, hand in hand, gossiping, or just chattering about your mutual interests. The more time you spent with them, the more you realized the two of them were really made for each other. And the fact that you were able to admit that, and be happy for both of them, made you realize that Seonghwa was right. The two of you were made to be best friends, while the two of them were made to be lovers. Being around Yerin also led to you coming into contact with Kim Hongjoong, the royal advisor, way more often than you wanted to. He’d grown up with Yerin, and she regarded him as a younger brother, because she didn’t have one of her own. And he certainly acted like one too, his nature being nothing compared to his adoptive sister’s. So it was a shock to you when you learned that Hongjoong was older than both you and Seonghwa by a little bit. He was snarky, witty, and had an edge to his character. Even his walk was full of confidence somehow. Sure, he was really good at his job, but it didn’t make his sarcastic remarks, and confidence regarding his intellect any less annoying. 

One thing you did respect him for, was that he kept his word about you and Seonghwa’s past relationship. Initially, you were a bit distrusting of him. But seeing that not even his own sister knew when you and Seonghwa opened up to her about it, he gained your trust. You were starting to enjoy your life in the palace again, with your newfound friend, and annoying adversary. 

But the pacing of life was messed up heavily for you, for everyone, when Seonghwa’s father, the king, passed away. It was during a battle, which they had won, but had lost their king in. And with his untimely death, Seonghwa had to put aside his grieving, and step up to be the ruler the kingdom needed. You were glad he had Yerin by his side, as you were swamped with duties on the army side of things. The general had also been killed in that battle, and you essentially had to fill his shoes for the time being. You migrated over to his office, going through the tasks and documents he left behind in his death. Hongjoong did occasionally pop down to the office to relieve the burden a bit, but you found yourself much rather not wanting him there, with his cynical comments. But he was an extremely efficient worker, so you kept your grumbles to yourself. That, and the fact that you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, as he also had to help Seonghwa with the royal side of things, made a part of you grateful he still was helping you. You were rarely out of the office, with Hongjoong being the only one of your close friends that you saw regularly. You didn’t consider him a close friend though, you only grouped him in with Yerin and Seonghwa by association, seeing the fact that he is essentially her younger brother. As the workload began settling down, and things were looking more stable, Seonghwa came to visit you in the general’s office. You were in the middle of an average bickering session with Hongjoong about some arbitrary thing when he walked in. 

“Your majesty,” the both of you greeting him at the same time, knowing that he hates it when the two of you and Yerin call him that. He huffed in disappointment, as the two of you exchanged cheeky smiles with each other. Only when messing with other people did you and Hongjoong find yourselves to be in agreement. 

“The two of you,” he mumbled with a sigh, before setting it aside and turning to you, “y/n, I have  a matter I need to discuss with you, actually, Hongjoong your input would be welcome too.” 

“Go ahead Hwa, we’re listening,” you said for the both of you, looking at him expectantly. 

“I want to promote you to being the General,” he said, looking at you. Your eyes widened. 

“What, me? You’re crazy,” you said, shocked, “what about the other lieutenants, and soldiers? I’m sure there’s someone who’s more suitable than me.”

“No I think it’s a good decision actually,” Hongjoong piped up, hand on his chin, eyes narrowed, “you’re already doing the work that he left behind, so you’re essentially just him without the title. You also are respected by pretty much everyone in the palace, so that wouldn’t be an issue. And we are already familiar with each other, so I know how you work, and what you’re like. So it would be easier for the two of us to collaborate if we ever needed to.” You were dumbfounded by his breadth of consideration. 

“Hongjoong is right, y/n, you’re perfect for the job,” Seonghwa said. 

“Well, if your majesty is asking me to, and the royal advisor,” you said with a snarky tone, which caused Hongjoong to scoff, “is agreeing with him, then I accept.” Seonghwa gave you a smile of trust, choosing to ignore your use of his title. 

“Well, then I’ll make the announcement at the meeting tomorrow morning,” he said, bidding you both a quick farewell as he walked out of what was now your office. You sighed, taking a look around at how the sunlight streamed in from the tall windows, illuminating the grand desk that you were sitting at with a light yellow glow. The bookshelves stood tall, full of different books about war tactics, but with some empty spaces that you could sneak your favorite novels into. There was a blue couch against the wall, where Hongjoong was splayed upon, flipping through the stack of papers in his hands. You could see yourself getting used to this place. 

“Congratulations on the promotion, General,” Hongjoong said, eyes meeting yours. He sounded genuine, but his voice always had a sarcastic edge to it. 

“Great, now I have to deal with you even more,” you said, dramatizing your annoyance. 

“Okay then I’ll leave right now,” he said with a laugh, pretending to get up. 

“Oh I’m so sorry great royal advisor, I was simply joking, how could I ever function without you and your otherworldly intellect here to help me?” you joked, batting your eyelashes at him. He smirked, crossing his hands over his chest and sitting back down, the two of you settling back into your rhythm of working, with the occasional squabble that broke the silence. 

Your promotion was officially announced the next day, as Seonghwa said. And as Hongjoong predicted, everyone was behind the decision. There was a pressing matter at hand, which was solving the conflict between your kingdom, and the one that neighbored it. The conflict that had gotten the previous king and general killed. Because of this, you, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa, along with the other various diplomats, and officials were constantly caught up in meetings. You initially found this new pace of life suffocating, as your life simply revolved around training, paperwork, and meetings. But with time, you’d slowly grown accustomed to it. But it wasn’t the only thing you had to grow accustomed to, as Hongjoong essentially staked out your office like it was his own. It was like having a mosquito constantly by your ear, buzzing and buzzing. Sure, an intelligent and capable mosquito, but a mosquito nonetheless. He would always finish his work before you, and make his entire life’s goal to annoy you. Well, sometimes he wasn’t doing it intentionally. Hobbling around the office, picking books off walls and sometimes knocking out a few adjacent ones while he was at it, and insisting on dueling you in a swordfight were his favorite methods. The second one only reeled a laugh from you every time he brought it up. 

“Not even Seonghwa can beat me, and you think you can, Kim?” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, if I can’t beat you, we’ll finally have found something you’re better than me at,” he said with a chuckle. His ego infuriated you, and this was your final straw. As much as it angered you that he enjoyed seeing you riled up, and playing into his hand, you couldn’t take it anymore. So on a day where you managed to escape your responsibilities for the afternoon, you found yourself, your trusty blade in your hand, facing Hongjoong, who held a sword like it was his second nature. And that’s what it felt like, because while fending Seonghwa off was easy, you found yourself struggling against Hongjoong. Just like his work style, he was insanely fast with a sword, to the point that almost had you, the general, disoriented. He was still a little less skilled compared to you, so you were able to maintain having the upper hand. The two of you were in the knights’ training arena, the same place that you and Seonghwa used to duel in as well, so you had the advantage of knowing the terrain. 

The duel was looking in your favor, until Hongjoong caught you in a moment of weakness, and almost overpowered you. That was when you realized he was spending the first part of the duel observing your every move to find a hole in your combat style. And when he finally did, that was when he struck. He quickly overturned the tide of the battle, the sounds of your swords clanging together becoming more and more frequent. Before you knew it, he had you pinned beneath him, sword mere inches above your throat. You cursed under your breath, realizing that his ego was definitely based in reality. He was panting above you, worn out. Clearly, you weren’t an easy opponent, as his chest heaved. His hair umber hair fell down in front of him, as you could see the sweat glistening like crystals on his face. Although he wasn’t angelically beautiful like Seonghwa, he had a boyish charm and a rough edge to him, one that captivated you. One that was responsible for the way your eyes dragged lazily around his face, and landed on his lips, which looked soft and were cherry-red. His gaze was full of pride, but had a hint of something else in it. Something that you felt building up inside you as well the longer you looked at him. 

“Looks like I’m better than you at this too, General,” he said. In a haze, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt down into you, your lips crashing like a wave against his. He threw his sword to the side away from the two of you, hands cradling your face like he’d been waiting for this moment. His lips moved against yours fervidly, with the kind of fiery desire that was expected from him, with a hint of desperation. You ran your hands through his hair, which felt silky against your fingertips. He kissed you like he was trying to drink you up, like you were water and he hadn’t drunk in weeks. Your hands slung around his neck, as you hoisted yourself up to straddle his lap and kiss him better. The two of your lips settled into a passionate tandem with each other. He bit your bottom lip, a silent ask for entrance which you responded to by parting your lips slightly. His tongue roamed in your mouth, and you could taste scalding sunshine and a slight sweetness on him. You could feel the heat pool inside of you as your hands took on a life of their own, roaming around his body, feeling the skin of his lean but defined arms, which were exposed from the shirt he was wearing. He groaned into your mouth, which you soaked up. When the two of you finally parted from each other, you could see how his lips glistened. The both of you were panting again, but this time for a very different reason. Something between the two of you changed violently. Something you weren’t sure the two of you were ready to address yet. 

“Pretend like that never happened?” you suggested, still straddling his hips, eyes meeting his. His lips stretched into a smile, a prideful one, but more joyful when it was directed at you, while his gaze met yours bashfully. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod and a sigh of relaxation. Of course, neither of you could fully wipe it out of your memory, as a kind of awkwardness was present whenever the two of you were together. It was so pronounced that even Yerin had pointed it out when you were at dinner together that night, joking that it was like the two of you had confessed your love for each other, which turned the both of you into blushing, flustered messes. Safe to say, it left Seonghwa and Yerin very confused. But the incident didn’t impact how you and Hongjoong treated each other, as he still very much regarded you with a tone of sarcasm. The two of you still regularly got into arguments at meetings about the current situation, ones that Seonghwa would have to break up. 

“You can’t just send soldiers off into that place knowing that there could be an enemy attack at any second, that’s just stupid,” you said, after Hongjoong proposed that soldiers should be stationed by the borders of your kingdoms. 

“Then how else are you going to ensure that they won’t just invade us and murder us all,” he asked, almost accusatory. 

“Well, we can try to sort out the issues diplomatically, and then maybe if that doesn’t work, we could station camps by the border,” you started, “I just feel like you treat the soldiers like they’re pawns.”

“Sometimes some sacrifices need to be made in order to ensure the safety of the greatest majority,” he said, “but I suppose diplomacy could be a good tactic. We’ve seen how military efforts have failed in the past.” A part of you was shocked Hongjoong backed down, and agreed with you, but you did also acknowledge the fact that his words did have some basis in truth to them. With a consensus reached, Hongjoong quickly went to work with some of the other officials in contacting the royals of your neighboring kingdom. Within days, a meeting time was struck up, and it was agreed to be in their palace. Despite the complaints of you and Seonghwa, Hongjoong assured you both that it was necessary in order to establish a baseline level of trust with them. 

The day came, and the three of you made your way over with some soldiers to accompany you. You were wary from the moment that you crossed the border, unsure if a sneak attack would be launched on your party. You were met with none though, a fact that you were grateful about. The royals of the other kingdom greeted you three politely, but from their tone you could tell that they were also a bit cautioned. You stood beside Seonghwa as his general and bodyguard, with Hongjoong also standing, despite being offered a seat. Your eyes were glued to him as he spoke. The way he carried himself, how he paced around you and Seonghwa as he spoke, the determination in his voice, the intellectual value his words carried, and the smirk that his lips were stuck in perpetually as he talked had you transfixed. You’d let your guard down somewhat, seeing the civilized nature of the discussion and the fact that you were actually making progress. The shuffling behind you escaped your register, as you heard a scream to ‘watch out’ from someone facing you. Panicked, you turned around to see a man clad in all black who had been detained, a bit too late however, as Hongjoong laid on the floor behind you, a small blade sticking out of his torso. Horror drowned you, as you dropped to your knees, scooping him in your arms. You could hear in your peripheral Seonghwa’s voice rising in volume, yelling at the king how he felt betrayed, and started to threaten war. The king of this nation attempted to calm him down profusely, but it all faded out of your awareness as you held Hongjoong in your arms. You could hear his soft grunts of pain, and the soft huffs of his breath. Your heart was caught in your throat when you realized how the dagger was initially aimed for you, but he’d intercepted it. You raised a hand, swiping a strand of hair out of his face. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, shaken up. Hongjoong laughed, more pained than anything. 

“I’m alright, it just hurts a bit,” he said, “couldn’t have him hurting our general, couldn’t we?” You gently hit him for his words, as if he wasn’t in enough pain already.

“You’re so stupid, just let me take the knife in the back,” you said, trying to remain calm. He shook his head. 

“No can do, no one is laying a hand on you when I’m there,” he responded, sounding more like a bodyguard than you did. You felt your cheeks dust pink at his words. The royal medic arrived, as the two of you carried Hongjoong to his chamber. You gave your hand for Hongjoong to squeeze when the doctor pulled out the blade. He let out a grunt, breath hitching, squeezing your hand so tight you feared it would’ve broken. You didn’t care though. Hongjoong’s breath steadied as the doctor stitched up his wound. It wasn’t too big, nor was it too deep, with the doctor giving you a guarantee that he would be better in around a month, he would just need his bandages to be changed once in a while to ensure no infections sprung up. You nodded at his instructions, having had a multitude of years worth of experience with wounds like those. You slung Hongjoong’s arm around your shoulders, your hand on his hip to support him as the two of you trudged out of the palace. Outside, you saw Seonghwa, who looked frustrated more than anything. He immediately ran over to the two of you, pulling Hongjoong’s other arm over his shoulders, guiding him to the carriages you came in. As the three of you finally sat down and were on your way home, Seonghwa told the two of you that it was apparently a traitor, who had no affiliation with the court at all. He also told you that war was not threatened, and if anything, the king was more willing to listen to any conditions that Seonghwa had proposed. Your eyes met Hongjoongs as a laugh escaped him. 

“Small sacrifices must be made in order to ensure the safety of the greatest majority,” he said. You nodded, fully understanding what he meant this time. Yerin was terrified when she heard the news of Hongjoong’s injury from Seonghwa, but her expression morphed to one of endearment as she learned he took the knife for you. You tried to ignore your friend’s prying, curious, but harmless gaze, shoving her away lightly. 

Hongjoong insisted he could change the bandage himself, but you insisted harder to help him, partially because of your guilt for needing him to take the stab for you in the first place. He could see it in your eyes, as he huffed, giving in. He took his shirt off, revealing the wound. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander around his lightly defined chest, lingering on each little scar that peppered it. 

“If you’re just saying you’re gonna help me with my bandages just to see me shirtless, I’m flattered, but I’m gonna have to reject your offer,” he laughed confidently, which earned him a slap on the shoulder from you. You went to work, first disinfecting the area around the stitches, before laying the gauze on top, and securing it with the medical tape. Giving it a light pat, you admired your handiwork. 

“There, happy?” you said. He only beamed, a little bit dramatically, but you could see the genuine joy in his eyes. He hummed, tucking himself under his covers. He looked cozy. 

“Goodnight, general,” he practically sang, “thank you.” You gave him one last smile, before you walked out his room, the door creaking shut behind you. 

The two of you grew even closer with each other. He now had a permanent residence in your office, which you found yourself to be less against than you imagined yourself to be. In fact, you started to find comfort in his presence, and felt safer when he was around you. With the closeness, the two of you also grew softer with each other. You guys argued less, and while the bickering remained, it had a different undertone. A more amicable, affectionate one. And every other night, you helped him switch out his bandages. As the days passed, you both watched it heal, and before you knew it, it was time to take the stitches out. Yerin, who had some experience in medicine, offered to do it. With her handiwork, the thread had been taken out, leaving him with his brand new scar. You still showed up to his room that night, forgetting that you didn’t have to bandage up the wound anymore. 

“Oh shoot, sorry I came over to help you bandage up your wound. I forgot Yerin took out the stitches today,” you said, turning back around. On your way out, you heard Hongjoong mutter something. You turned back to face him. 

“Stay,” he said, barely above a whisper. You walked over to his bedside as he stood up, facing you. Tension sat heavy in the air. Silence rang out between the two of you, almost like you were beckoning the other to speak, or do something. Hongjoong leaned in, stopping himself just before his lips met yours, leaving you confused. 

“Can I kiss you, general?” he asked, desire riddling his voice. You nodded in response, “I need words, y/n.” the use of your name from him made you shudder. 

“Yes, Hongjoong,” you muttered, growing desperate, before his lips met yours. They didn’t stay on yours for too long, as he kissed down your jaw and neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you felt heat begin to pool between your legs. The two of you found your way onto his bed, with you straddling his lap like that day in the arena. His lips explored your neck, taking in your every reaction. Every hitch of your breath, every light, airy moan that you let out. The sounds were like music to his ears, as he grazed his teeth over the spots that he found you liked, leaving open-mouthed kisses on them. Your hands slipped under his shirt, caressing the entirety of his chest, which caused him to groan against your skin. Quickly, his shirt was discarded, as you took in the full sight of his exposed chest in front of you. This time, you didn’t have to hide, as you let your eyes wander over every spot, every freckle, and every scar that was on his chest. You began to trace over each little spot on his torso, trying to map them out like constellations. You wanted to remember each and every one. His skin was warm under your fingertips.

“Like what you see, huh?” he joked with a huff, breath shuddering at your touch. You nodded shyly, which caused him to chuckle. His mouth latched onto the base of your neck as. In trying to seek for the friction you desired, you rolled your hips down, reeling groans from the both of you as you felt him grow hard under you. He flipped the two of you so now he was over you, and you were laying on the bed under him, facing up at him. Hongjoong assisted you in pulling your shirt off, and removed your bra in one swift motion. He looked at you, a smirk on his face, before his lips were back on you, traveling down your chest, stopping at your breasts. You felt heat coil inside you as he gave them attention, cupping them in his hand. 

“Joong,” you sighed, letting out a whine, which caused Hongjoong to laugh against your skin. 

“That needy for me, huh, pretty girl? Where do you want me?” he practically growled, which made you whine again, “I’m going to need you to use your words so I know what you want, can you be a good girl and do that for me?” 

“I, I want your mouth on me, Joong,” you muttered breathlessly, feeling embarrassment flood you. Hongjoong noticed, as he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” he chided, giving another laugh of amusement, before diving down between your legs, licking a stripe up your already soaked folds. It reeled a throaty moan from you, as he worked you open with his tongue. You swore there wasn’t one thing Hongjoong wasn’t good at, as pure bliss filled your veins. When his tongue reached your clit, you saw stars, burning, white, as you felt heat begin to build up inside you. A string of curses left your mouth, along with his name mixed within them, which caused him to moan against your core. He lapped at you, sending sparks flying in your nerves, lighting their ends on fire. Your lower half twitched, which he steadied with a firm grip on your thighs. Satisfied at your state, Hongjoong removed his mouth from you, dangling a high just out of your reach. Just before you could complain, you felt his tip prod at your entrance. 

“You’re so tight, baby,” he said, voice growing shaky as he entered you. You winced, despite the fact that you were opened up, you still felt a bit of pain taking him in. 

“Joong, it hurts,” you whimpered. He stopped his movements, concern washing over his features. 

“Shhh, I know baby, I know,” he said, pressing chaste kisses on your cheeks, “but I know you can take me, my good girl. I’ll go slowly, hmm?” he asked, and once he received a nod from you, he continued, “if it hurts more, I’ll stop.” But once he was fully in, and the two of you regained your breath, you felt the discomfort wash away into pleasure. You gasped, feeling satiated at the feeling of him inside you, giving you a kind of fullness no one had ever, and could ever give you. No one but him. Giving him a nod, he started to move inside you. He started slowly, languidly, as if trying to map you out and find all the spots that made you cry his name, dragging along your walls and observing your every reaction. When you whined, bucking your hips up to try to meet his, he picked up his pace. He slammed into you vigorously, but not mindlessly, as each time he angled into you methodically so he would hit the spot that made you keen. You slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet the moan that escaped your lips, which he promptly removed. 

“Let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” he whispered, pinning your hands above you, “I want everyone in this palace to know that only I can fill you up so good, make you feel like this.” His words alone made another whine escape you, which wasn’t even addressing the brutal pace he’d set for himself. You obliged, not holding back or quieting any of the sounds you made, which seemed to make him happy. 

“Only you, Joong,” you rambled, the pleasure capsizing you, your thoughts clouded by how good he felt inside of you, “only you. ‘M made for you. No, no one else for me.” With his pace, and his lips relentlessly on the sensitive spot on your neck, you felt your high quickly approaching. His was approaching too, as he lost the rhythm he’d set for himself, stuttering as he cursed under his breath. Your release came first, as you fell limp under him, hiding your face behind a pillow, your senses washed over by the pleasure. You felt the pillow ripped away from you, and Hongjoong’s darkened gaze on your face, soaking in your every expression. 

“Don’t hide yourself, darling,” he muttered with a curse, leaning down to kiss your forehead, “you look so beautiful like this.” His high followed soon after, muttering your name under his breath like a prayer as it crashed over him. Hongjoong pulled himself up to lay beside you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, a laugh escaping his lips. 

“Guess we finally found something you’re better than me at, y/n,” he said, looking into your eyes. You swore you could see the universe in the gold flecks of his chestnut eyes. His comment reeled a coy smile from you. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you responded affectionately, laying your head atop his chest, pressing a chaste kiss on his newly formed scar. It caused him to giggle. You traced it with your finger, transfixed. A smile grew on your lips knowing that protecting you was the reason behind it. That you mattered so much to him, even if he didn’t admit it openly. 

“It looks pretty badass huh?” he asked. You rolled your eyes. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Joong,” you said, feeling yourself grow drowsy. Hongjoong, feeling your breath steady against him, pulled you up so that your head was laying on the pillows, facing his. 

“Careful, wouldn’t want you more sore than you’re already going to be tomorrow,” he said snarkily. 

“Cocky,” you scoffed, shaking your head. Despite your words, you nuzzled into his chest as he draped his arm over you, covering the both of you with the soft comforter. The feeling of his hand combing through your hair, and warmth he emitted lulled you to sleep, as you drifted away. 

You were strolling around the courtyard of the palace the next morning, humming, a small smile on your face. 

“Y/n!” a voice called out to you. You swiveled your head to see Seonghwa’s mother, the previous queen, sitting at a table in the courtyard. She smiled, waving at you to come over. Even as she was aging, her face was radiant, and she was poised, dressed in an elegant sundress, wearing white gloves on her hands. 

“Good morning your majesty,” you greeted her with a grin. 

“Oh, no need with the formalities my dear,” she patted the seat next to her, “come, sit next to me.” You complied, as the two of you looked out into the distance at the sun, which was rising above you. You heard her sip on her tea beside you.

“Do you believe in destiny, my child?” she asked you out of the blue. She was known to be eccentric, so it wasn’t a strange question in your eyes. 

“Well, I used to, up until a while ago,” you laughed, thinking back to Seonghwa’s wedding day, and the emotions you felt. You could look back on it now with a smile, though. She smiled, nodding at your words before speaking

“Let me tell you something,” she started, taking your hand in hers, “I knew about you and Seonghwa’s relationship,” your mouth hung open in shock, “well, I was the only person in the palace who knew. To me, it was just so obvious. His smile just looks different when he’s in love. I see it with Yerin now, and I saw it with you back then,” she said, “to be honest, I would have been more than happy to see him marry you. But I couldn’t let that happen, and do you know why?” 

“N-no?” you muttered, anticipating her response. Your heart was racing at this new information.

“Because I believe in destiny. When I found out about the two of you, I scried, looked into the stars and asked them if you were meant to be, and they said no. So I didn’t want you to waste your time and your effort on my son, when there was someone else out there waiting for you. Someone else whose fate is intertwined with yours,” her words made you think of the ones Seonghwa spoke to you back then, “I’m sorry for the pain it caused you. But there was no other way.” You nodded, understanding her as she looked at you with a gaze of sorrow. An idea popped into your head. 

“Wait, your majesty, if you knew that me and Seonghwa weren’t meant to be, then you also know who I am meant to be with, right?” you asked, which earned a laugh from her. 

“You and I both know the answer to that,” she answered, taking your hand in hers. Just as the meaning of her words sunk in, you heard a name calling your voice. Turning around, you saw Hongjoong coming towards the both of you. 

“Your majesty,” he greeted her, with a bow, earning a little chuckle from her, “apologies, but can I borrow y/n for a second? There’s something I need to discuss with her.” Your eyes met the queen’s again, as she smiled and nodded at you. 

“Of course, she’s all yours,” she responded with a hinting look directed at you, and sent you off with Hongjoong. His hand found yours, leading you to the far end of the garden, away from any prying eyes or listening ears. You laughed, realizing that it was right by the corner where you were when you were crying over Seonghwa. Where Hongjoong found you after the wedding. 

“Joong, what’s up?” you asked, looking at him curiously. He met your gaze with a smile, one that you’d never seen before. It was shy, loving, and joyful. It was one of almost childlike innocence. Unbridled adoration. The closest thing you’d seen to it was the flustered look he gave you after the two of you kissed in the arena. 

“Look, y/n,” he started, and the use of your name signaled that this was a very personal, and very important matter, “I think I’ve fallen for you. Your smile, your charm. I can’t be mad at you even when you bully me. Especially when you bully me I realized, I can’t bring myself to hate you, and in fact what I feel is pretty far from hate. I want to be the one who loves you the loudest, I want to be the one, the only one who you let love you. I want to be yours,” he finished, eyes glinting as they looked into yours. You giggled at his ramblings, before taking his face into your hands, and pressing a long kiss into his lips. It was warm, just like the sun on your skin as it hung over the two of you, bathing both of you in a golden glow. It was soft, like the breeze that enveloped the two of you, which sent your blouse and hair flickering by your sides. It was like everything had come into place. Everything felt right. Now, more than ever, you understood what Seonghwa meant. Because when you were with Hongjoong, nothing else mattered. Hongjoong pulled you flush against his chest, a hand snaking around your waist. 

“You’re mine. Mine and only mine, for forever,” you whispered against his lips when you pulled apart from him. Although you weren’t fully convinced, perhaps destiny was real, and it was a little thread that led you through your life, and all the way into Hongjoong’s arms. You hummed. You could see yourself getting behind the idea of him being written in your destiny. In fact, it was more than that. You knew that if destiny was real, Hongjoong would be yours. 

[alxdelusional]

First of all I am crying and I love you and I love your writing and I love seonghwa

Second, if that sort of thing ever happened to me irl I am such a little baby I would literally run away and fake my own death idc. Like yeah seeing your best friend happy and being able to stay in the environment you are familiar with and grew up in BUT I am a little wuss and would not be able to ever face him without crying and so in order to save myself the embarrassment and also remove myself from the problem I would just leave lmao.

Nobody asked for my opinion, and sorry for the random dump <3 I'll be off now.

Please write more. I am frantically chewing the paint off of my walls in anticipation. I am going to sob.

OH MY GOD IM GONNA CRY THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON I LOVE YOU TOO MY BELOVED?? THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND EVERYTHING AND YOUR KIND WORDS IM SCREAMING RN

But yeah no 1000000000%, i don’t know what i would do if something like that happened to me in real life either, but sometimes you know that you truly love someone when their happiness matters the most to you, no matter if they’re in your life or not. and i think that’s what i wanted to embody with this fic.

please do not be sorry!!! this has solidly made my day <333 i love hearing your thoughts so please do feel free to send them in whenever!!

more will be out very shortly xx <33

[alxdelusional]

Rendezvous With Destiny (1/2)

Part 1: No Matter What

Part 1 | Part 2 (now up!!)

⭒Pairing: Prince! Seonghwa x Cavalry captain and bodyguard! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Fantasy AU, forbidden love, angst, secret relationship, hurt/comfort (debatable), some fluff, smut

⭒Synopsis: You are the cavalry captain of the royal guard, Prince Seonghwa’s bodyguard, best friend, and secret lover. But your romance was put to end quickly, as he was married to a princess from another kingdom. But deep in your heart, you’d always wish that destiny would be in your favor, and the two of you would be able to love each other in the daylight.  

⭒Warnings: Consumption of alcohol, there is a smut scene!! (MDNI), lots, and lots of angst (I'm so sorry), slightly angsty ending

⭒Al's thoughts: This is a two parter!!! Mostly because I cannot stand the angst. And to s1riushwa, I apologize sincerely, and here you go.

⭒Word count: 5.48 K

As the crown prince’s bodyguard, your sole job was to protect him. Your entire life was devoted to protecting him. It was your duty. What made your duty easier was the fact that you and him were also best friends. Ever since you were promoted to being the royal cavalry captain, and since even before then, you and Seonghwa were insanely close with each other, essentially clicking with each other since the minute you entered the palace. In fact, the fact that you were even his bodyguard at all was his doing, as he insisted to his parents for them to allow you to be his personal bodyguard. You were grateful, as it meant you got to spend a lot of your time with your best friend. When days were calm and you didn’t have too much to do as the cavalry captain, the two of you were seen together, laughing with each other in the palace’s library, or dueling each other in the royal guards’ training room. He would always ask to duel you, seeing that you were the most skilled swordswoman that he knew, he always wanted to defeat you. Your skill was leagues above his, but you would lose on purpose sometimes just to see him happy. He began to catch on after a certain point though, and it took a lot of assurance to wipe the pout off his face. There was nothing you felt you couldn’t tell him. Well, nothing but the fact that you were deeply infatuated with him, and wanted nothing more than to be his lover. The prince was, undeniably, beautiful. It was like he was hand sculpted by the Gods. Everything about him was perfect, from the way his black hair framed his face, the plushness of his soft lips, his big doe eyes, and his defined jawline. He was the most beautiful thing you swore you’ve ever seen, and none of the royal portraits of him could ever get it right. He was beyond being captured in artwork. He was ethereal. But it wasn’t just his beauty that drew you to him. His character was radiant, his heart one of the purest you’ve ever known. He felt like the first ray of light that breaks the night, a heavenly choir. He could be an angel, and you wouldn’t doubt it for a second. You loved him so much it hurt. In the days where you two wandered around the castle together, or you accompanied him to the city in the name of exploration, you couldn’t ignore your love for him. You wanted to be by his side as something more than a bodyguard. But you knew it wasn’t possible. He was the crown prince, the man that would one day rule this kingdom, and you were simply a nobody, who worked all the way up the ranks to become the cavalry captain for the royal guard. You were content with simply being by his side most days, but sometimes you wanted more. For years, you’d silently hoped in your heart that he was your destiny. That above all odds, the two of you would find each other, and be the person for each other. It was a childish belief, the idea of soulmates, but it was one that brought you solace that maybe, just maybe, he was yours. 

You were resting in your chamber, staring at the ceiling above you absentmindedly when you heard a knock on your door.

“Yes?” you answered, not bothering to move. 

“Prince Seonghwa is asking to see you,” the voice of a servant who worked in the palace said. Your eyebrow raised in confusion. It was late into the night, and Seonghwa rarely ever called for you at this hour. 

“Did he state why?” you asked. 

“No, he simply asked to see you, and when I asked, he just said he wanted to see you, and that it was very important,” the servant responded “he’s in the garden.” Perplexed, you finally got up, throwing a coat on with the knowledge that he was outside. Opening the door, you gave the servant a quick nod of thanks, as you walked down the grand halls of the palace, and out into the night. The air was cold against your face, the standard autumn chill. The moon hung above in the sky, round, glowing. You stepped through the dimly lamplit garden, as you rounded a corner of hedges to see Seonghwa, staring up at the sky. He was humming quietly to himself, gently swaying. The bottle of wine he was holding in his hand did not go unnoticed by you. You weren’t sure how drunk he was, but knowing him, he was probably plastered. You sat down next to him, and his head swiveled to see you. An airy laugh left his lips, as you saw how even in the darkness, his cheeks were red. You were right, he was definitely plastered. 

“Y/n-nnie, you made it,” he said affectionately. He beamed at you, joy washing over his expression as he moved closer to you, laying his head on your shoulder. 

“Your highness,” you said in fear that someone would see the two of you, trying to peel him off of you. It was a futile effort, as he just clung onto you even tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It’s okay y/n-ah, I sent everyone away. It’s just us, you don’t have to act,” he reassured you. Even when he was drunk, he could sense your worries. You let out a sigh, deciding to trust him. 

“Okay fine, Hwa,” you called him, “why did you want to see me?” He hummed, as you felt his arms snaking around your waist even tighter, pulling you against his chest. You prayed he couldn’t feel your heartbeat. 

“Do I need a reason to see you?” he asked, stumbling over his words, “I just wanted to see my y/n-inne, is that not allowed?” You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his use of the word ‘my’. You coughed, focusing back on the matter at hand. 

“Why did you drink so much, Hwa? Did something happen?” you asked, voice softening. Seonghwa was usually very level headed and collected, so for him to get so wasted, you weren’t even sure it had ever happened before. You turned back to face him, and when his eyes met yours, you saw another smile bloom on his face. It was a beautiful sight.

“Mm my parents keep rushing me to get married,” he confessed, putting a hand on your cheek. The prince was never this clingy or touchy, but deep down, you didn’t mind. His words made your heart crack, as you were reminded that once again, the two of you could never be together. 

“Mhm, and is there someone in your mind you want to marry?” you asked. He closed his eyes, thinking. 

“You,” he said after a moment of deep thought. Even with his drunkenness, you sensed a sincerity to his words that worried you more than anything. You laughed, nervous. If the prince wasn’t drunk, that remark would have been life ending. But you excused it to be nonsense due to the influence of alcohol. 

“Hwa, don’t say things like that,” you said, giving him a reassuring smile that was meant more for yourself. 

“I mean it, y/n,” he said, taking your hands in his, “I want to marry you.” You gulped, feeling your heart beat erratically. It was getting harder and harder to convince yourself he didn’t mean what he said. 

“Wh-why would you want to do that?” you asked, voice barely above a peep. 

“Because I love you, y/n,” he started, and you could swear your heart finally exploded, “I’ve loved you for so long. I want you to be my wife, be my princess. You’re so beautiful, you’re so, you’re so strong, so smart. So kind. I don’t want to marry anyone else but you.” The genuineness of his words caught you off guard. Those words were ones you’d been waiting to hear for years, and now you were finally hearing them from him. All your wildest dreams were coming true, the one you loved so dearly also loved you back. But that didn’t change the fact that the two of you could never work. 

“Hwa, darling, we both know you can’t marry me,” you said, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes at the mere thought. Seonghwa pouted, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. 

“Why not?” he asked, dejected, which caused your heart to squeeze at his innocence. 

“You’re the prince, the future king. I’m your bodyguard. We simply can’t,” you said, trying to keep your sadness at bay. 

“Well, can I at least kiss you?” he asked, childlike. You wanted to say yes, but you knew he was drunk, and was scared that he would regret his decision. So shutting out the desire in your heart, you laughed. 

“No,” you wanted to toy with him a little, “but I tell you what, if you can remember this conversation, you can find me tomorrow, and I’ll give you a kiss then. Does that sound good?” Seonghwa nodded with a grin, accepting your challenge. Satisfied, you ran a hand through his hair, smiling, and looking at the stars twinkling above. You knew that with his plastered state, the minute he woke up the next day, his memory would be wiped of anything that happened. 

You were proven wrong when he found you in the weapons room in the morning. You were polishing a few of the swords laying around, almost forgetting about what happened the night before until you saw him walk through the door. 

“I thought I would find you here, y/n,” he said, walking up to you. 

“Good morning, your highness,” you said with a smile, meeting his eyes nervously, “hope you slept well last night, is there something you wanted to talk to me about?” 

“Well, yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you about last night,” he started. Your shock was unconcealable as he continued with a smirk on his face, satisfied at your reaction, “I remember you made a promise to me that if I remembered the conversation we had, I would get a little something from you. Hmmm, I’m forgetting what it was, do you care to remind me?” he said, leaning in closer to you to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath. You felt yourself grow dizzy, heart swelling while trying to take in the way he looked in the sunlight that was pouring through the window. Somehow, he looked even more heavenly when bathed in the golden glow of the morning sun. You gulped your nervousness away, deciding to bask in the moment, and tease your best friend a little more. 

“Hmm, I’m forgetting too, are you sure you don’t remember?” you whispered, leaning in to the point where your lips were grazing each others. You felt Seonghwa’s hand on your waist, as his gaze was entranced by your lips. 

“Perhaps this will jog your memory,” he muttered breathlessly, before his lips came crashing into yours. Your eyes slammed shut as you pulled him into his arms. A sigh escaped you. You could feel Seonghwa smile against your lips as he kissed you, soft, gentle, like if he touched you too roughly you would shatter against his fingertips. But he also kissed you with a love that was so strong, so overpowering that you could feel it in the way his lips moved against yours. Unbeknownst to you, tears had started streaming out your eyes, and when you parted for air, his thumbs came up to your cheeks to gently wipe them away. Your vision blurred as more tears fell, and Seonghwa brought his lips to your face, stopping them in their tracks. 

“Shhhh, darling, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here,” he whispered between the soft kisses. 

“Hwa,” you choked out between sobs, your affection for him growing even more. 

“I meant everything I said last night, y/n, I love you. I love you so much,” he whispered into your ear, “I want to be everything to you in the way that you are to me. Let me love you, give me a chance to love you.” You nodded frantically at his words. 

“You are everything to me,” you said. A laugh escaped his lips, as he nuzzled his nose against yours. You wanted nothing more than to be frozen with him in this moment forever. For nothing else to matter, for the responsibilities you both had to disappear, and for your love to be the only thing that you had to think about. You wanted to stay in this moment where you were with him, where you could love Seonghwa, and not have to worry about anything else. 

So started the secret affair between the two of you. Your days were still the same, as you had to be by his side no matter what. But now, there were stolen glances between the two of you, sneaking around the palace grounds in the darkest of nights. Running through the castle gardens, fingers interlocked with each other, those same hands roaming all over each other’s bodies in his room, both of you not daring to make a sound. His hand found a resting spot on the small of your back when the two of you were together now, though sometimes you had to take it off, so as to not raise any suspicion. Seonghwa was still your best friend, but he was also so much more than that to you. You wanted him with your whole heart, and now you knew he did too. The thought sent butterflies flying through your stomach, and a smile creeping on your face each time. He was yours, and nobody else had to know. Sometimes, bouquets of fresh flowers would appear at the palace gates, and be addressed for you. Everyone in the castle knew you had a lover, but no one knew who it was. Sure, you wanted to scream it at the top of your lungs that the nation’s crown prince was your lover, but you had to be content with hiding it. You wanted to love him the loudest, love him unapologetically for everyone to see, but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. And you had to be okay with that, because you had no other choice. But your love felt real, and his love for you felt real, and that was enough. It was enough. 

You were sneaking into his bedroom again, as was routine for you now, and as you clicked the door shut behind you, you saw him, sitting hunched over at his dark oak table. He looked stressed, his eyes narrow, and brows furrowed. But it wasn’t the normal type of thought you saw his features submersed in, no, this time, there was a sadness in his gaze. One that worried you. He didn’t even notice you walk in. You cleared your throat lightly, which seemed to break him out of his trance. Warmth drowned his features as he saw you, a smile adorning his face. He walked up to you, taking your hands in his. His gaze was full of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“Everything okay, Hwa?” you asked, raising his hands to your lips and grazing over his fingertips. He sighed. 

“My love,” he said, reveling in your touch, “my love, I-” he struggled, breathing growing unstable. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Hwa, slowly,” you ushered him. He took a minute to collect himself. Whatever he was about to say, you knew it would be bad. 

“My parents told me that they found a fiancee for me,” he said, “The wedding is next week.” Your heart shattered. The world froze. You couldn’t believe his words. Your hands fell limply in front of you. Seonghwa was trembling, and despite your gaze having glazed over, you could see his lip quiver. This was it. This was the end of your love with him. You were being yanked out of the little, perfect reality that you created for the two of you. Wordlessly, Seonghwa enveloped you in a fierce embrace. He was suffocating you, but you didn’t care to stop him. For all you cared, you would have let him. Your hands found their way to his back, as you clung onto him. You pressed your face so hard into his chest you saw stars. You could hear Seonghwa’s hushed, choked sobs. When the two of you pulled away from each other, you saw his glassy eyes, which were full of tears. 

Before you could even respond, his lips met yours in a haze. It was unlike the chaste pecks and soft, sweet kisses the two of you normally shared. This one was hungry, and it made heat grow inside of you. You felt Seonghwa’s teeth graze against your lips, a whine escaping you as he bit your bottom lip gently. You parted your lips just enough so that his tongue could slide into your mouth, exploring. The way he was kissing you, along with how his hands were traveling up and down your sides made you want him even more. The two of you parted, your gaze lidded and full of desire for him. His eyes met yours with a similar kind of want, dark with lust. Without uttering a single word, he lifted you into his arms, and set you on the bed. Hovering over you, he connected his lips to yours again, kissing you desperately. Like he wanted nothing more. Your hands found the back of his neck, a soft sigh escaping you as his lips trailed down from your jaw to your neck. You craned your neck up, allowing him better access. When his lips met a certain spot, a moan left your lips. Seonghwa picked up on it, and began lapping at the spot repeatedly, pressing open mouthed kisses on it. You could feel yourself growing needier by the minute, as you shuffled, trying to relieve some of the pressure building between your legs. 

“Hwa, please,” you mumbled breathily, “I want you, Hwa.” Seonghwa hummed, stopping his ministrations. 

“I know, my love, I want you too,” he said, groaning at your words, “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you, hmm?” A part of you wanted to tell him to be rough with you, but the emotion that was behind each kiss that he pressed to your skin made your stomach fill with butterflies. Seonghwa continued, after lifting his linen sleep shirt over his head in one fluid motion. You looked up, admiring the sight before you. His lightly defined chest, porcelain smooth skin. You lifted your hands to run them over his chest softly, dragging them. You could hear his shaky breath as you did so. Seonghwa watched you, his hands fumbling with the hem of your shirt. 

“Can we get this off you, love?” he asked. You nodded, eager, helping him in taking your shirt off. You shuddered at the cold, your bare chest now exposed to the cold air of his room. Instinctively, your hands flew up to cover yourself from his view. Seonghwa gently took your hands away, swallowing you with his loving gaze. A sigh escaped his lips as he marveled at your body. In a blur, his lips were on you again, trailing down your neck and onto your collarbones. 

“You’re so beautiful, my darling,” he said between placing gentle kisses on your collarbones. You threaded your fingers through his hair. The noises that left your mouth were incoherent, a mix of mewls and his name. A moan escaped your lips as he traveled down to your breasts. He rubbed the mounds of flesh firmly, as a sigh fell out of your lips. After trailing kisses all the way down your navel, he gently pulled down your pants and underwear, coming face to face with your core. Where you wanted him most. He was so close, but not close enough, which made you whine, a plea for him to move. Seonghwa understood, as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, before dragging a finger along your folds. A string of curses left your lips, as you tried closing your legs around him. He held your legs firmly open with a strong hand, as he continued. You felt the pressure coil inside of you as he slipped one of his long, slender fingers into you, his thumb finding your clit. The feeling sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, as you bit down on your lip to quiet the moan that escaped your lips. Seonghwa raised his other hand to your face, pulling your bottom lip out from under your teeth. 

“I want to hear you,” he whispered, voice dropping an octave, kissing the skin right behind your ear. 

“Hwa, I need you,” you mumbled. 

“I’m right here, my sweet girl,” he chided against the skin of your neck, which was red from all the nibbles he left on it. 

“I need you inside,” you said, feeling your mind drift away due to the pleasure as he added a second finger inside you, and curled them. Your body jolted at the feeling. A groan escaped his lips at your words. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he said. 

“I don’t care, Hwa, please,” you begged, needy. He caved at your words, as you felt him take out his fingers. You winced at the feeling of emptiness, which was soon filled with something more. Your eyes fluttered open to see Seonghwa hovering over you, lowering himself into you. The pain caused your eyes to snap shut, which did not go unnoticed by him. 

“Are you okay, love? If you aren’t I can-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“I’m fine, keep going,” you said. Seonghwa heeded your words, slowly continuing. You could hear a moan escape from his lips as he entered you. The sound was heavenly, like an angel singing. Once he was fully in, he stilled, trying to steady his breathing. The pain had melted away too, into warm, dizzying pleasure. You felt so full, full in a way you haven’t felt before. You tapped Seonghwa’s arm, signaling for him to start moving. And when he did, you swore fireworks exploded in your mind. The sentiment that came along with his thrusts was what sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. As much as you wanted him to use you, the gentleness and sweetness in his movements made you feel even more lightheaded. It was raw, emotional. Just you and him, only you and him. It was more than just absentminded sex. It was a profession, it was full of love. It was full of pent up yearning for each other. It was fueled with the knowledge that this was your first time with each other, but also very likely your last. Seonghwa kept his body close to yours, connecting your lips again. The kiss was soft, full of longing, and bittersweet like a goodbye. 

“You feel so good- so warm,” he muttered, stumbling over his words between kissing you, “I love you so much. You’re the one for me.” You felt yourself reaching your peak, heart swelling at his words. 

“I love you too, Hwa, I’m, I’m,” you stuttered, before crying out, signaling your release. Seonghwa groaned, before his own release took over him. You laid in euphoric bliss, savoring the moment. Seonghwa laying on top of you, the two of you in his bed. It was something that you’d been dreaming of for ages, but something you know you will never experience again. A complaining whine left your lips as he slipped out of you. A couple moments later, you felt a warm towel between your legs, as Seonghwa gently cleaned the both of you up. You muttered a quick thank you, which he acknowledged with a hum. You felt a pair of thumbs on your cheeks, and you finally realized that you were crying. Seonghwa pressed his forehead against yours, settling into bed next to you. 

“My heart and my body, they both belong to you, y/n,” Seonghwa started, “my soul is yours. my being is yours. I am yours. No marriage, no one will change that.” His words quelled your worries for the night, as you fell asleep with his arms around you. 

But they did nothing to lessen the agonizing heartbreak of seeing him standing at the altar, facing a girl in her wedding dress. A girl that wasn’t you. You sat near the front of the audience, due to your position as his bodyguard and cavalry captain, so you couldn’t cry. You dug your nails into your wrist, trying to keep the tears at bay as Seonghwa’s lips, ones that worshiped your body, ones that you loved so much, met hers. As the audience roared, you sat, expression blank. Eyes glassy, seeing your lover be married off to someone else, and neither of you having the power to fight against it. Your mind was numb from the excruciating pain. Amidst trying to keep yourself composed, your eyes met with the eyes of someone in the audience. Who also sat near the front, on the opposite side of the aisle. You recognized him as Kim Hongjoong, the royal adversary for the princess, who you’d been briefly introduced to before the wedding. He had a piercing gaze, full of strength. His brown hair fell into tufts around his face. You broke eye contact with him, fearing that he would see through you, and see your sadness. This was the union of two powerful kingdoms, you as the cavalry captain should be ecstatic. But you weren’t, you couldn’t be, when your lover was being ripped away from you, and placed into the hands of another woman. 

You never received flowers from him again. At first, his gaze still carried some of the same emotions it used to, before the wedding. He used to still keep his hand on the small of your back when you were with him. It lulled you into thinking that the two of you could still be. That the wedding was just a nightmare, and the princess, as kind as she was to you, was a figment of your imagination out to kill you. But with time, you noticed that something had changed. His heart-shaped grin came out more when he was talking to the princess, his wife. His gaze changed, as he looked at her with a kind of fondness he used to only look at you with. His gaze to you, though still deeply rooted in love, had lost its spark. He looked at you like he did before, like you were his best friend, his trusted bodyguard, the royal cavalry captain, and nothing more. The burning love that he once had for you was gone. But you couldn’t believe it. You wouldn’t believe it. It hurt too much to accept. Your heart ached. You wanted more than anything for him to say you were imagining it, and that he still wanted you, and only you. He’d found you alone, and you were excited, thinking that he was finally back to profess his love for you. 

“Y/n,” he said, “I, I've been getting to know her. She’s amazing, sweet, brilliant,” you watched him say, his eyes glittering, “it feels right talking to her. Laughing comes easy when I’m with her. Something feels complete in my heart. It’s like a missing puzzle piece that I’ve finally found,” he said, eyes meeting yours. Your mind was dizzy with sadness, as you realized his smile was now for someone else, “I still love you, y/n. You’re my best friend. I trust you more than anyone on this planet. I just, I can’t keep leading you on, I don’t want you to waste your heart and your time on me,” he continued, “you’re beautiful, you’re hard working. There’s someone out there who can love you better than I can. I’m so, so, sorry, y/n.” Your world shattered. You nodded, plastering a bittersweet smile on your face, despite the wails and screams trapped in your heart. You knew it was better for the both of you. If you kept this affair going, it would tear his heart apart, and the kingdom would come crashing along with it. The happiness in Seonghwa’s eyes mattered more than what he was to you. You nodded, giving him a quick hug, patting his back. Seonghwa hugged you back lightly. Hiding your face, you walked away from him, trying your best to not fall onto the ground, and when you were sure you were out of his field of vision, you ran. Your eyes grew blurry from the tears, as you sobbed silently, still running. You only stopped when you reached the corner of the garden, the same corner where Seonghwa confessed his love to you drunkenly one night. Your sobs tore out your throat, as your entire body shook. You held your knees, rocking yourself as the wails poured out from your mouth. You swore you felt your heart actually shatter, being ripped apart roughly, leaving a splattered mess of blood inside of your chest. Seonghwa wasn’t your destiny. He wasn’t yours to lose, and that was all there was to it. Your love was short lived, secret, away from all the glances of everyone in the world. Not a soul knew about your love for him.

“Here, take this,” you jumped physically at the voice, a scream of fear leaving your lips. You looked up to see the wincing face of Hongjoong, the royal adversary. Hongjoong, who was the only person to see your distraught gaze at the wedding. His hand was outstretched, holding a handkerchief out to you. You took it, mumbling an apology. He stood by you. 

“Why are you even here,” you asked, voice hoarse from your tears, which still were falling. Your hands were shaking as you wiped your eyes. 

“Well, I was just strolling through the garden of the palace that I will now be staying at along with the princess, exploring, when I heard the screams of someone who sounded like they were being murdered, and I found you, here, crying,” he recounted, almost sounding unamused. You scoffed at his tone, rolling your eyes. 

“No need to hit them when they’re weak, royal advisor,” you said, “at least try to sound concerned. We’re going to be working together in the future now that my prince and your princess are married.” Your voice cracked, which gave you away. Hongjoong laughed, as your gaze shot up at him, angry. 

“Let me guess, you’re heartbroken over the prince being married off, aren’t you?” your gaze morphed to one of shocked horror as he spoke, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. You have my word.”

“How did you even know?” you asked. 

“Well, I noticed when we were introduced to one another that he always kept a hand on you, and when we were at the wedding you know, I saw the sadness in your eyes. You were the only one who wasn’t cheering. Everyone else was rejoicing, you looked like your world was ending. It’s not too hard to put two and two together,” he pointed out, as if it was obvious. You looked at him, captivated by his observations. From that alone, you knew he was a capable advisor. He had an eagle’s eye. He stayed by your side, standing about an arms length away from you until you calmed down. Seeing that you were collected, he huffed. 

“Don’t let your heart break too much for him,” he said, turning away from you, “look forward to working with you, cavalry captain.” 

“Wait, your handkerchief,” you said. 

“Keep it, it has your tears and snot on it, it’s no good for me anymore,” he said snarkily, which beckoned an eyeroll of annoyance from you. And with that, he rounded the corner, out of your sight. You sat down, defeated, eyes glued on the clouds above you. They moved swiftly across the sky, guided by the breeze. You swallowed. You were willing to stay by Seonghwa’s side no matter what, no matter what you were to him. Despite your heartache, his words gave you hope. Though he wasn’t your destiny, perhaps someone else was. Perhaps that someone else is just waiting in the wings for a chance to love you. The end to your love with Seonghwa meant that a love for someone else could blossom. It was all up to destiny, something you hated more than anything, now more than ever. 

[alxdelusional]

Like Lunar Tides

⭒Pairing: Surfer! Yeosang x Painter! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Tooth rotting fluff, a little bit of angst, hurt/comfort

⭒Synopsis: It’s your last day in your hometown before you leave for art school in the big city, and there are a lot of things you’re heartbroken to leave behind. But out of them all, the one you’re most scared of losing is your best friend, Kang Yeosang. So you set yourself one goal, to enjoy your last day with Yeosang to the fullest, before you left him and your home behind. 

⭒Warnings: Angst about moving, a few curse words, kissing, fluff.

⭒Al's thoughts: I have been obsessed with Yeosang, he's just so beautiful, so soft, so amazing. This is what came of that obsession, I hope you enjoy!

⭒Word count: 4.57 K

The wind, which was salty with the scent of the ocean, grazed you gently, sending your hair flying in the breeze behind you while you focused on your sketch. The sun shone brightly, standing strongly in the sky, engulfing the entire beach in a warm, golden glow. Your heart felt content as your pencil danced gracefully across the paper. You were capturing the scene in front of you, immortalizing it onto a sheet of cardstock, etching the sight into the paper, along with your mind. The way the waves crashed into the ebony colored, rocky cliffs. The way the soft sand lay, sprawled out across the beach, and how it felt between your feet as you looked out to the endless expanse of ocean ahead. And the way your best friend, Kang Yeosang, stood on his surfboard, as he rode the waves. Yeosang always had an affinity for the waters of the sea. He’d been surfing since you met him when you moved here in fourth grade. You remembered that kid who could barely balance on the board, who was too scared to even swim out beyond where his feet could touch. Looking at him now, with his dyed blonde hair swaying in the wind as he surfed, a proud grin growing on his lips as your eyes met his, you realized that you were smiling the entire time. You went back to your sketch, adding the last few touches, being sure to include a hint of Yeosang’s smile on his figure. Just as you looked at your work with a wistful smile, you felt someone sit down next to you. Just by the scent of fresh salt water emanating from him, you knew it was Yeosang. 

“It looks so beautiful, y/n,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. Your gaze shifted to look at him, almost as if your eyes had a life of their own, and their sole purpose was to look at Yeosang. He studied your drawing, as if trying to commit it to his memory, his brows lightly furrowing in the way they always did when he was deep in thought. Underneath the warm amber light of the afternoon sun he looked breathtaking. His sun-kissed skin shone, and the different hues in his dark brown eyes were on full display. His toned chest, and defined arms made him look like a classic sculpture, with the kind of natural, effortless beauty that would only be seen in marble sculptures displayed in world-class museums. He is an artwork, his beauty being uncapturable. Yet he swears that you are the only person who can draw him accurately, after showing you the multitudes of different portraits that his family had done at amusement parks and tourist destinations, saying that it only looks like him when it’s drawn by you. That he only likes portraits of him when you’re the artist. 

“It’s beautiful cause you’re in it, Yeo,” you laughed, pecking him quickly on his cheek. He smiled, bashful this time, as his cheeks and ears dusted pink. You always loved teasing him to see him get all shy, and most times that was being boldly affectionate with him. And you were the only one he would tolerate this kind of behavior from. Lingering glances, innocent kisses to the cheek, forehead, hands, warm embraces. You both knew that your friendship was never just friendship, but neither of you said it aloud. In the depths of your heart, you knew that you were his, and you could only hope that he felt the same way. 

“You’re gonna be so amazing in art school, I swear in a few years your art will be in galleries,” he said, leaning lightly into your side. You chuckled, as reality dawned in for the first time in a while. Art school. You were leaving tomorrow, saying goodbye to this place, these people, tomorrow. You were leaving Yeosang tomorrow. Since you’d read your acceptance letter from the school of your dreams, you’d been putting it off. You always thought it was so far away, and brushed it into the corners of your mind. But there was no ignoring it anymore. And the dread that washed over you was incapacitating. It wasn’t life away from home, or meeting new people that you were scared about. It was having to say goodbye to Yeosang. Not getting to see him every day, or being able to be in his embrace whenever you are sad. Not getting to hear his laughs while talking about nonsensical matters, or watching your favorite TV shows. Being apart from the other half of your heart, the other half of you. And you knew what would happen to the both of you, growing further and further apart with time, and distance, and a literal ocean between you. Losing Yeosang was unfathomable. Seeing him, and not being close with him, is an unimaginable reality for you. It was a reality that you knew you would have to face one day. One that you were running from. One that you can’t ignore anymore. You felt his warm, soft hand take yours, and lace your fingers together. He looked at you with concern, as he picked up on the sadness in your expression. He knew you better than anyone, and read you like a book. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, as you pulled him up.

“Come on, I want to enjoy the last few hours of my last day here,” you said, the both of you getting up, while you shoved the tears down inside you, “arcade and ice cream?” Yeosang smiled, concern still in his gaze as he flashed you a smile. 

“Sounds great,” he said. And with a smile, you led the both of you back to his car, and you got in the passenger seat. Yeosang got in a couple moments after you, now wearing a black, sleeveless top. You snuck glances at him as he pulled out of the parking lot. His arms, ones that made you feel so safe and loved when they were around you. His soft cheeks, that were a contrast to his defined features, but yet felt so right with them. You felt a smile tug at the corners of your lips as you watched him. In this moment, you convinced yourself that everything would be fine. You still had the rest of the night with Yeosang. You weren’t losing him yet. That was tomorrow’s issue. As you came to a red light, Yeosang turned to face you with a smile, and you wanted nothing more than to freeze time, and remain in the moment for forever. 

“What are you smiling at, pretty girl?” he asked, feigning confusion. The nickname sent a wave of warmth crashing in your chest. You both knew the answer to that question, and on any other day he would’ve just remained silent and blushed, but today it was payback for your unexpected attack on him earlier. 

“Nothing. I could ask you the same question,” you teased. Yeosang only scoffed, as the light turned green, and he went back to driving. You were greedy with the glances you took at him, lingering on him for longer than you normally would. You wanted every little detail of him tattooed in your mind. Every expression, every flicker of light in his eye, every line in his skin, every strand of his hair. You wanted it to be so clear in your mind, you never wanted the sight of him to be washed away. To grow dull. Blurry. You wanted him to remain as the clearest, most crisp sight in your mind. More than the cliffs, more than the sea. 

After finding a parking spot in the comfortably full parking lot, your eyes caught on the sight of the sunset ahead of you. The sky was painted all shades of pinks, violets, oranges, golds, and indigos. It looked like an actualized ghibli film, a poetic backdrop for your last day home. You stood outside the ice cream store, unaware that Yeosang had gone in, and gotten your orders. Ice cream was a tradition between the two of you, a way to address any situation, whether it was right after a surfing competition where Yeosang rightfully took his place as champion, or when you were dumped by your date during prom of freshman year, the prom that Yeosang didn’t go to because he had the flu. Both those occasions, along with countless others, all ended in the two of you sitting shoulder to shoulder along the curbside, ice cream cones in hand, sharing occasional anecdotes between bites of the sweet treat. Your bout of reminiscence was interrupted when Yeosang appeared next to you, handing you your cone of cotton candy ice cream. The two of you took your positions, with Yeosang on your right. You always had him sit on your right so you could see his birthmark. It was something he always tried to cover, something that he was especially insecure about when he was younger. You were a large part of the reason why he feels comfortable showing it, with your affirmations and complaining when he did cover it up. And it’s true, you did find it to be something that made him unique, and really endearing. It was, along with all the other parts of him, beautiful. 

“I got you your childish ice cream,” he joked, handing you your cone and sitting down. 

“I don’t think you have the right to speak, when you literally eat toothpaste for fun,” you retorted, pointing at his mint chocolate-chip ice cream cone. Yeosang laughed, hearty and dorky. Comfortable silence descended between you two, as you worked at your ice cream cones. The silence also came from the fact that the only thing the two of you could think about was the future. No more ridiculous homework assignments, petty school drama, no rants about extracurriculars or standardized testing. All of that was in the past. Today, your mind was caught in the future like a fish in a net. Your own future, and your future with your best friend. You could only assume Yeosang felt the same way. He didn’t speak, he knew that the last thing you wanted to talk about was the future. The silence wasn’t tense, it could never be tense between the two of you, but you knew so many unspoken thoughts hung in the air between you. As the both of you finished eating, you exchanged a knowing nod, and walked towards the arcade. 

The place was characteristically colorful, with bright neon lights illuminating the interior. You excitedly ran over to one of the claw machines, pressing your fingers on the glass window. Immediately, a plushie of a little white dog caught your eye. 

“Yeo, look at this one,” you said, your eyes meeting Yeosang’s, who looked at you joyfully, “it kind of looks like you.” You laughed, pointing at him. He only looked at you with an unsurprised smile on his face, as he sighed. 

“Well, if it looks so much like me, let’s get it for you,” he said, pulling out your joint arcade card out of his worn leather wallet, and swiping it. The claw machine lit up with life. Yeosang controlled the machine, his features drowning in deep focus as he aligned the claws with the little plushie. As he checked the position one last time, he hit the button with confidence. 

“No way you actually get it on the first try,” you said, knowing the scamming nature of arcades. Yeosang shrugged wordlessly as both of your attentions were focused solely on the claw, which clamped around the toy, and lifted it successfully over to the drop box, and let go. Your jaw was left agape by his insane luck. Yeosang bursted into laughter, slapping his leg as he folded over. 

“I can’t believe it,” he said between laughs, going to pick up the toy and hand it to you. You laughed, jaw still hanging open in disbelief, taking the plushie. The little, fluffy dog bore a striking resemblance to your best friend with its cuteness and daintiness. The pink bow on top of its head made you giggle. Your lips stretched into a line as you looked at it. You could bring him along with you, so you had a little Yeosang with you wherever you went. 

“I can bring it with me to art school so I’m always reminded of you,” you said, tapping the tip of his nose affectionately. Yeosang softened at your affection, nodding with a genuine smile. 

“You could also bring me with you,” he said, jokingly but with an edge of seriousness. You laughed at his proposition, secretly wishing more than anything that you could.

“We both know I can’t do that, Sangie,” you said, “and besides, how would I even do it?”

“I don’t know, stuff me into your suitcase or something? And when your roommate asks, say I’m your blanket, or that I’m your emotional support dog or something,” he said with a sheepish grin. His dorkiness tugged your lips into a smile, as your heart panged in your chest. The two of you walked through the rest of the arcade, wallowing in your fleeting childhood, stopping at the various other games, and occasionally trying to catch another plushie. You had no luck, however, leaving you with just the little dog plush as you walked out into the night. 

The two of you got back in his car, and as he started it up, you started cycling through the various playlists on your phone. It was an unspoken rule that you would DJ for the both of you whenever he drove. A playlist you made l titled ‘songs i LOVE’ with a heart caught your eye. When you tapped into it, you found it to be from many years ago. Wanting another kick of nostalgia, you hit the shuffle button. Your favorite song from middle school started playing, as you gasped in excitement. Yeosang chuckled, focused on the road ahead. Without missing a beat or a lyric, you began singing along as he drove along the seaside roads. The stars twinkled outside the car windows, like fireflies in a twilight meadow. Yeosang, seeing your euphoric state, rolled down the car windows to let the night breeze in. You let your eyes close, as you stuck your hand out the window, yelling the lyrics at the top of your lungs. Everything felt perfect. Everything felt okay. And for a second, your worries were washed away. You could hear Yeosang join you in singing along, as the two of you traversed through the streets of your neighborhood. Before you knew it, you were pulling into the driveway of your home. You hopped in, holding the maltese plushie by its paw, Yeosang following closely behind you.

Your bedroom was still, your bedroom. Of course, you couldn’t bring everything with you, but you packed the most important things, so the room was a skeleton of what it used to be. Some of your old artworks still hang on the wall, as well as photos from various points of your life. Photos with friends from your eighteenth birthday, pictures with your family from your trips together. Your bed was lined cozily with stuffed animals, creating a comforting, soft nest for you. Although, you did pack away some of the plushies, so it was different to you. Your room was Yeosang’s second home, and vice versa, so he gasped upon walking in, seeing the ravished state of it. 

“Tragic, I know,” you said, plopping down on your soft bed. You watched as he went around your room, seeing all the empty wall spaces that used to be covered in various things, your artworks, posters of your favorite artists and shows, and polaroids of your friends. 

“This place has lost its color,” you heard him mumble, as he walked closer to you. You felt a dip in the mattress as he sat down in front of you. Instinctively, you made grabby hands at him, a gesture that he eagerly picked up on, as he laid down, and pulled you into his arms. You sighed contently, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, where it fit perfectly. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you tried your hardest to take in the moment. Yeosang’s arms around you, protecting you like a fortress, his hands on your back, tracing absentminded patterns, your hands in his hair, combing through the soft blond tufts languidly. The smell of sunshine and sea salt on his skin, and the warmth that you felt, both due to his body warmth, as well as your heart racing inside of you. You felt him bury his face in your shoulder, and squeeze you tightly. You let your hands roam freely around his body, feeling the muscles in his arms, the sturdiness of his back, the warmth emanating off his neck. You wanted to feel him against you, against your hands, your palms, your fingertips. You wanted to remember how he felt. He did nothing to stop you, only pulling away slightly to look into your eyes lovingly. This was way more intimate than how your cuddle sessions with him normally went, but neither of you minded. In fact, both of you needed this. Well, at least you did. Your gazes met, as each of you beckoned the other to speak. Unsure of whether to back out, or dive deeper. Wordlessly, Yeosang took your face in his hands and before you could question what he was going to do, he pressed a kiss into your forehead. You reveled at the contact, letting out a light giggle. He then kissed the tip of your nose, and you could see a smile forming at the edges of his lips. Normally you would act tough, and fake trying to shove him off to retain your dignity. But tonight you didn’t care, as you pulled him closer to you. Yeosang then kissed your cheeks, pinching them affectionately after he did so, which reeled a joking whine of complaint from you. He was fully smiling, as your eyes met yet again. His cheeks were a deep red, and you could only imagine the state that your face was in. Feeling particularly bold, you spoke. 

“You missed a spot,” you mumbled, Yeosang looked genuinely confused, ushering you to go on. Nervously, you tapped at your lips. You swore your heart could have jumped out of your ribcage, and dived straight into the ocean when his lips met yours fervidly, like the waves meeting the rocky cliffs. Yeosang kissed you like you like his life depended on it, his hands cradling your cheeks tighter. Your hands found purchase in his hair, as you pulled him impossibly closer to you, leaning into the kiss more. You could taste the pleasant, sweet mintiness off his lips. The kiss was soft, like the love you two have had for each other all this time. You wanted nothing more than your soul to tangle with his, so you two could merge into one being and never be apart from each other. You pressed yourself flush against his chest as his hands circled at your waist. With your lips against his, everything felt okay. You could easily lull yourself into believing that you weren’t leaving, and that this was the start to your life with Yeosang. That you were the only two people who existed in this world. You could stay like this forever with him, kissing him, feeling him. Every sense you had was being overwhelmed by him, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. As you pulled apart from each other, your shaky inhales became inherently present. It was only when Yeosang swiped his thumb tenderly across your cheek, expression morphing from euphoria to concern, that you realized you were crying. You couldn’t even begin to verbalize your feelings, as happiness mixed with melancholy into a cacophony of emotions that only beckoned tears. Yeosang could sense it, as he didn’t ask you to speak, instead opting to press his lips against the streams of tears on your face. The gesture made your heart swell, and the tears fall faster. He loved you. And in this moment, lying in his arms, in your twin sized bed, the day before you are about to leave the city, you realized you loved him. That you loved him in a way that was so much more than friendship. A way that burns, the kind of love that sets souls aflame, that starts wars, that makes you want to go any distance just to be with the person you love. You felt that love for Yeosang. And finally, you knew that he felt that love for you too. Neither of you needed to say it. Neither of you needed to say anything. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you finally said, choking on your words, “so fucking much.” Yeosang pressed his forehead against yours, humming. 

“I’m going to miss you too. More than anything. More than you’ll ever know, my crescent,” he said. The use of the childhood nickname made you giggle. It came from a time in fourth grade when you just arrived, slipping up on your words, when asked ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’, you answered that you wanted to be the moon. You were laughed at and teased about it for the rest of the year, and you became ‘moon girl’ to everyone that knew you. But you were Yeosang’s moon, his crescent, that controlled the ebb and flow of the tide. You were everything to him, as he is to you. You were as important to him as the moon is to the tide. 

“Promise that you’ll text and call me every day?” you said, “and that you won’t forget me?” Yeosang only chuckled. 

“Of course, and how could I ever forget you, my love,” he cooed, voice barely above a whisper. You felt your cheeks burn at his affection, as you snuggled your face into his chest. He held you close, as you felt your consciousness slip away from you, falling fast asleep in the arms of your love. 

The morning was hazy. Foggy. You hauled your bags and suitcase into the driveway, and Yeosang lifted them into the trunk. Yeosang drove you to the airport. The drive was wordless, the radio filling the silence. You couldn’t stop the tears. You clutched onto the maltese plushie for dear life as Yeosang pulled into the airport terminal. Reluctantly, you stepped out of the car, as he handed your backpack and suitcases to you. You couldn’t look him in the eye. You knew that if you did, you could never leave him. As you two were facing each other in silence, he tipped your chin up lightly, as your eyes met. Your heart shattered, seeing the tears on his cheeks, and the glassiness of his brown eyes. With a sob, you flung your arms around him, as he pulled you in by your waist. Wails racked your body as you held him. Not wanting to let go. After what felt like seconds, but also simultaneously an eternity, you pulled away from him. He tenderly wiped the tears away from your cheeks. Before he could let go of you, you kissed him, hard. Like you were never going to kiss anyone ever again, which was partly true because you couldn’t see yourself kissing anyone but Yeosang. Yeosang returned the kiss with just as much desire as you did. It was soft like a feather, but had the intensity of tides crashing against the shore. You kissed him greedily, trying to take as much of him in as possible. His lips stretched into a smile against yours, as you both parted. You two exchanged one last knowing look, and you were on your way out into the big city. 

You sat down at your aisle seat on the plane, looking at the empty window seat next to you. A sigh escapes your lips that does little to quell the pain in your heart. You hadn’t even taken off, yet you already ached for Yeosang. How would you survive months and months of school without him? You couldn’t even begin to think about that one. People filed into seats around you one by one, and before you knew it, the plane was almost full. The seat next to you was still empty. You were zoning out, when you noticed a stranger tucking his suitcase up in the overhead storage above you. You looked up curiously, but you couldn’t quite glimpse his face. However, his bag did catch your attention, as it was the same one that you got Yeosang for his birthday that summer. A small across-the-shoulder bag, with some graphic drawings of smiling sea creatures on it. A wistful smile appeared on your lips, as you pulled out your phone, and typed a quick text to him about the bag while the stranger sat down next to you. His phone seemed to ding the minute you sent out your texts. Funny coincidence. 

“Already texting me? Miss me that much, my crescent?” your breath hitched. Your eyes widened as you turned to the stranger, who indeed, was not a stranger, and in fact was Kang Yeosang. Before you could even process anything your body acted before you, and you flung your arms around him, squeezing the air out of him. You felt him laugh against you, and hug you just as tightly back. You frantically pulled apart from him, looking him up and down, your brain still not making sense of the situation. Tears had blurred your vision already, as you desperately wiped them away, wanting to see your lover. 

“What the hell? Why are you here? Holy shit, what? How did you even know I was sitting here, what?” You rambled. Yeosang looked at you with a gaze full of love, as he patted your hair. 

“As for how I’m here, you sent me your flight details a few days ago, and I booked the seat next to you, and I just… changed and went to get my boarding pass after you,” he stated, as if it was obvious, “as for why I’m here, I found a job in the city. Surf coach. I figured it was decent, it pays pretty well, and I’m doing something I love. But I took it because I could be with someone I love.” he smiled, looking into your eyes. Your tears were uncontrollable as reality dawned on you yet again. You weren’t going to lose Yeosang. He was going with you. He was willing to leave his hometown, start a new life, all for you. All with you by his side. He chose his love for you over everything he knew. This was the start of your life together. You flung your arms around his neck, muttering softly against his skin through hiccups and sobs how he scared the shit out of you, and how much you loved him. You could feel him stroke your hair, as he chuckled in your ear, returning your affections. And as the tide can’t be without the moon, the two of you could not be without each other. The two of you will always choose each other. 

[alxdelusional]

The Wedding Conundrum

⭒Pairing: Businessman! San x Wedding planner! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Exes to lovers, fluff, angst, some hurt but lots and lots of comfort

⭒Synopsis: You and San broke up three months ago, and have now somehow ended up attending the same wedding. As you see him again, you also realize that your feelings for him have not died one bit.

⭒Warnings: Break up, consumption of alcohol, reader breaks down, reader gets insulted, the name Chloe is used for a side character (no real life basis!!),

⭒Al's thoughts: This is my first fic, well, ever posted publicly! I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always appreciated, but if you are mean you are stinky >:(

⭒Word count: 5.29 K

You hate weddings. The ceremony was boring, long, full of superficial professions of love and old traditions rooted in misogyny. The receptions were alright, but the concept of being in a room with so many people, having to greet and chat with each one was an idea that sent shivers down your spine. Especially in the circles that you found yourself involved with, full of entitled, dainty, rich wives, and their sneaky, sly husbands. This fact was especially ironic when paired with your job as a wedding planner. Your name was a household one, passed through the cherry red lips from various women at their exquisite afternoon tea parties. You were grateful for it, because it meant that you always had work, and could always support yourself, but a part of you was sick of seeing the extravagant church weddings, and skyscraper height cakes. But you didn’t always hate weddings, if you did, you wouldn’t have chosen this job. No, you only hated weddings since about… three months and twenty-seven days ago exactly. And the reason behind your distaste of weddings, you actually met him at a wedding you planned one year ago. 

Choi San, the son of the man who started an international, elite hotel chain. Choi San, who you met a year ago at a wedding for one of his father’s business partners, and immediately connected with. Choi San, who you loved so fiercely until your relationship was put to a striking halt three months and twenty-seven days ago. Choi San, the reason why you hate weddings. When he ended the relationship, you cursed at yourself, saying how you knew it was a bad idea from the start, dating a rich boy. Despite your level-headed nature, San wasn’t the easiest person to get over. He wasn’t superficial. Of course, he had a superficial side to him, every businessman does. But you were shocked to find that he was the most real, and most ideal person you’d ever known. He never bragged about his money, or his status. If you saw him on the street, you wouldn’t bat an eye at him, as he held a strong distaste for branded, luxury clothes. Though, he would never hesitate to spoil you, and it took incessant assurance from you that his love was enough to stop him from buying you luxurious goods. And he never looked down on you, or anyone, for not having as much wealth as his family. The first time you had him over in your apartment you were insecure, describing it as ‘cramped’ to him. But he only looked at you with a kind smile, and said that it was cozy, and homey. You had so many fond memories with him in your apartment. From the times you would watch horror movies in your bed, you curled up in his healing arms, to the quiet, jazz-filled nights of the two of you slow dancing in the living room. Everywhere around you were memories of the two of you, which made him excruciating to move on from. And you thought you had done a pretty good job. Aside from a bittersweet twinge in your heart whenever you thought about him, you felt nothing. There was no romance left over between the two of you. The only detrimental impact was the fact that now weddings, even the thought of them, made you cringe in disgust. Love, in general, kind of sets you off. But you were able to look past that disgust, and continue with your job. Besides, you weren’t from the kind of family that had enough money to last you a couple lifetimes. You needed to fend for yourself, which is why you convinced yourself that you and San could never work. Because you were from two separate worlds, with a couple of galaxies between them. 

You pushed aside your disdain as you pulled up to the wedding venue. It was the wedding of a friend of yours. Not too close of a friend though, because in these circles, how real could a friendship get? Regardless, she still invited you to the wedding, partially out of friendship, partially out of courtesy, since you did plan it. Stepping out of the taxi, you approached the venue. She said she wanted a small wedding, and clearly the two of you did not have the same definition of the word ‘small’, as hers meant a full exposition hall in the best hotel in the area, and 500 guests. You weren’t sure of the specific guest list, as she had one of her husband’s assistants deal with that, but from what you heard it seemed like all the billionaires in the area were coming to this wedding. 

Strolling around the venue, which was quickly filling up with guests dressed in lavish dresses and fine suits, you admired the beauty of it. This was one of your favorite weddings that you had planned in a while. It had actual uniqueness to it, with its theme laying somewhere in between an ethereal, classic wedding, and a traditional Chinese wedding. You liked the hint of ancestry that came through, and internally praised the bride for wanting to preserve her culture. Ivory paper lanterns hung from the grand ceilings along with chandeliers, which struck a strange balance in the chaos it created. There were traditional china patterns on the ribbons that decorated the benches, and porcelain sculptures placed for decoration. The lights above showered the room in a golden glow. After swiftly greeting a few familiar faces including the bride’s family, and some other previous clients, you found a seat at an empty bench near the back, humming quietly to yourself, preparing for the boredom of another long ceremony. 

A voice takes you out of your thoughts, although hushed, you could never mistake it for anyone else’s. It had a distinctive kick to it, one that no other voice had. As you questioned if it belonged to who you thought it did, the signature laughter followed, confirming your suspicions. You took a slight glance back, and your eyes met those of Jung Wooyoung’s, who practically jumped in excitement. He was dressed in a standard black suit, albeit adorned with some rhinestones, with a pair of matching glittery sunglasses on top of his head. He waved excitedly at you, almost screaming your name, but stopping himself just before he did. Your eyes drifted next to the figure standing next to him, as your heart sank. Choi San, dressed in a dark navy suit that accentuated the broadness of his shoulders, was standing next to Wooyoung. Of course, it was expected, you rarely found one without the other, as they were childhood best friends. You almost cursed aloud, realizing that your navy dress, with his suit, made it look like you coordinated outfits to attend the wedding. A couple’s outfit. He had barely changed. His hair was short, neat, jet black and slicked back. It made him look even more handsome than he was. He was looking off into the distance, seemingly deep in thought judging by the slight arch of his brow, but it didn’t take too long for your eyes. You could’ve sworn his expression softened upon seeing you, and his gaze caused the air to get stuck in your throat. It was like the first time you ever saw him, which it kind of was, because you hadn’t seen him since your split. He gave you a slight nod and a small smile, which you returned, before swiftly turning back to face the front. Seeing him made you so happy, yet knowing that he was no longer yours stung like a knife in the heart. You could feel your cheeks turning redder and redder by the minute. All it took was one look from him to make you realize that you definitely were not over him. You hit your hand gently in anger, mad at your weakness. 

“Y/N-ah!” Wooyoung exclaimed as you turned to see him. You stood up to greet him, as he flung his arms around you. Despite also being a model, and hailing from an upper class family, Wooyoung was one of the only people you found to be genuine. You two also met at the same time you met San, and you quickly became close friends. Even though you weren’t with San anymore, Wooyoung still made sure to check in on you, and even hang out with you once in a while. Other than San of course, who could only look at you, expression blank. 

“Hey Wooyoung,” you laughed, as he let go of you. He kept his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down. 

“You look stunning today,” he said, “if only some of these people could take notes from you, cause some of these outfits are atrocious.” You chuckled at his flattery, sneaking glances at San. He had a small smile on his face, but avoided your gaze. You wanted nothing more than to pull him aside and just talk. Ask him about anything and everything, how his life was now, what he had been up to, everything. But you couldn’t. You guys weren’t on those terms. 

“You inflate my ego, Wooyoung,” you said. Wooyoung only batted his hand at you jokingly, as his eyes scanned the room. You followed his gaze, realizing that most of the benches were all full. Most of them, and not yours. San also seemed to notice that.

“Wooyoung, we should go find seats,” San said, his voice silky as ever. It was only then that you realized how much you missed his voice. The fact that the three of you sitting together wasn’t a given anymore shattered you. Wooyoung looked at him, feigning confusion. 

“We can sit with Y/N, right? Y/N can we sit with you?” he asked. Deep down, you knew he was plotting something, you looked to San, who exchanged a similar gaze of caution with you. But you wanted nothing more than to feel like everything was okay, and that the three of you were still okay, so you nodded. Wooyoung grinned, and sat on the inside of the bench, forcing San to sit between you two. Wooyoung smirked slyly as he watched him sit down, seemingly happy with himself. You didn’t want to believe that he also wanted to see you and San together again, and you dismissed his joy as a trick of your mind. Before any of you could speak again, the ceremony started. As the priest began speaking, you could feel yourself dozing off. 

“Still a master of your craft, I see,” you heard San whisper next to you, which woke you up. Initially, you didn’t think he was talking to you, so you looked over to find his gaze on you. His gaze flickered back to the proceeding ceremony, though, as everyone watched the bride walk out. He had an expression of shy playfulness. You laughed, trying to quell your pounding heart at the realization that he was leaning into you, trying to keep his words as discreet as possible. 

“Of course I am,” you say, “and I assume you’re still stuck waiting for your dad to pass the hotels down to you?” his expression soured at your question. 

“I’m actually, not,” he began, your eyes zipped back to him, confused, “I, I started my own company, with Wooyoung. I have no financial affiliations with my parents anymore.” Upon hearing his name, Wooyoung leaned into San. 

“What, is someone calling for me?” he said. San shoved him away lightly, trying to not draw attention to the three of you. You held back a chuckle, seeing the boys’ dynamic again. You missed it more than anything. 

“Were you falling asleep earlier?” San asked once Wooyoung was out of the way. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“How? You planned this wedding, you… loved weddings,” he said, gaze traveling to the floor, aware that he was treading in dangerous waters by bringing up things that he knew better than anyone. You laughed, more coldness showing in your voice than you intended. 

“I’ve changed since we last saw each other, San,” you said, and you couldn’t ignore the sorrowful glint in his eyes as they flickered between you, and the ceremony at the front, “besides, these things are boring. It’s just the same thing over and over again, you blabber on and on about your love for each other, and some old guy says that ‘now you may kiss’, and you’re done. And I’m not, not the biggest fan of professions of love, anymore.” San nodded, the air between you growing tense. He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. You both knew why. 

“You’re right, weddings are kind of boring,” he said, eyes meeting yours, “but not the ones you plan.” he said, his entire face smiling as his lips stretched into a thin line. You rolled your eyes and shoved him lightly, trying to mask the joy that his remark drowned you in. You also tried your hardest to not take his words to heart, in fear that it would ignite the sparks into flames. He seemed to notice, though, letting out a hushed, but cheery chuckle. Your eyes met again, as you swore his eyes sparkled. Then again it could be due to the disgustingly pretentious and exuberant chandeliers that hung overhead though. 

“Ugh, her dress is atrocious,” you heard Wooyoung remark from beside San, breaking the tension between the two of you. You snickered, as San was the one who rolled his eyes this time, “I mean look at it, the mesh and the lace are two different colors and NOT in a good way, the frills make the sleek fit of the bodice look like she’s wearing a fucking loofah. And that’s not even talking about the train? And the tattered ass veil?” You couldn’t hold back your laugh, as Wooyoung sounded genuinely upset. You could tell the fashion model inside of him was speaking. 

“I know right, and she spent like 200 grand on it,” you said, which caused Wooyoung to gasp audibly, attracting some glares from the people next to you. San hit Wooyoung on the shoulder, telling him to be quiet.

“200 GRAND?? If only I knew it was this easy to scam people,” he sighed, shaking his head in defeat. You couldn’t help but laugh, Wooyoung was always one to make you laugh. There was something so naturally and innately funny about his character, and his mannerisms. 

“Wooyoung, don’t talk badly about people when you are at their wedding,” San scolded like he was his father. Wooyoung shrunk, pulling a face as he tried to hold back his laughter. You only smiled, gaze fixed on the bride and groom, who were now exchanging their vows. As the ceremony ended and their lips met, you were one of the first people to stand up and excuse yourself in the middle of the cheers and applause. Giving a wave to San and Wooyoung, you ran straight to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on your face, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Memories of your time with San kept coming back to you, and for the first time in months, you faced the fact that you missed him. You tried to stop the tears from rolling down, but you couldn’t. A part of you was happy he was acting like nothing happened between the two of you, while the other part was screaming for answers to why he left you so suddenly, and why you haven’t seen him or even spoken to him until today. Both of those parts could agree on one thing though: you missed San like the tide would miss the shore, like the moon would miss the sun. If you believed in souls, you would admit that your soul missed him. That your soul was aching for him. You put a hand over your mouth to quiet your sobs, shakily collecting yourself to at least make it through the wedding. With an inhale, and your commercial smile you used to greet the likes of your clients, you walked out of the bathroom. 

People were making their way to the reception, as you weaved through the crowd. Upon giving your name, you were led by one of the wait staff to a table that was empty. There were 12 sets of ornate, dining utensils set out on the ivory table cloth. The reception hall was decorated similarly to the main venue, with similar elements of culture and elegance running through it. A big, porcelain dragon hung off the ceiling, which captivated you with its level of detail. You weren’t alone for long though, as two familiar faces were led to the table where you were sitting. 

“Must be fate!” you heard Wooyoung say while sitting down. 

“Must be,” you laughed, defeated. If there was a deity out there, they wanted you dead. San sat down on your right, in between you and Wooyoung. You two exchanged a quick glance, with you not wanting to give away your breakdown earlier due to the glassiness of your eyes. Nothing you ever did could escape San, though, as his eyes lingered on you for a moment, silently asking if you were okay. You only broke eye contact, playing dumb and not giving him a response. Others began sitting down at your table, most of which were familiar faces. The bride’s close friend Chloe, and your acquaintance by association, sat down next to you, giving you a squeaky hello. You weren’t particularly fond of her, as she was the exact superficial archetype that you hated. Even with that, you still acknowledged her kindly. The amused glance she gave to San did not slide by you, as her eyes dragged up and down his body. You felt a sting of jealousy, only to remember that you had no relation to him anymore, and that you couldn’t stop anyone from hitting on him. 

As the meals were served, you watched, more pained than you’d like to admit, while Chloe struck up conversation with San. He responded politely, though never fully engaging her. You could sense some of the superficiality in his voice as he spoke to her. While shoving a piece of steak into your mouth, you caught a glimpse of Wooyoung, who gave his best friend a nasty glare. You scoffed, going back to eating. Bits of the conversation flowed in and out of your awareness, as you sat in between it. One phrase did catch your attention though.

“So, San,” she called him affectionately, as if they’d known each other for years, “are you single? Could I get your number?” You froze in your chewing, bracing internally for his response. 

“I’m not available,” he replied calmly, expression morphing into one of calm blankness. He looked into your eyes as he said so, while you cautiously, hesitantly met his gaze. You could hear Wooyoung’s sigh of relief at his response. Chloe caught on faster than you thought she would. Faster than you thought she could. She let out a huff of disgust.

“Really. Y/N? Her? You’re seriously gonna waste your time on some poor nobody?” yours, San’s, and Wooyoung’s eyes all blew wide at her words, “I mean look at her. You’re going to settle for this?” As if your night couldn’t get worse, you now had to deal with someone putting you down. You bit on your tongue hard to keep the tears, and your anger, at bay. You and San weren’t even together anymore. He had no obligation to defend you, nor was he ‘settling’ for you. You had to bear the brutality of her words alone. But you felt San put his hand on top of yours, giving it a light squeeze. You met his gaze, his sharp eyes full of burning fury, but also riddled with concern. You nodded, as he looked back at Chloe, the concern melting away. 

“I won’t tolerate you insulting my-,” he stopped himself, “Y/N, like this. So if you would please excuse us, we have somewhere to be. Apologies for the suddenness of our departure.” He said sternly, with a bow to the rest of the people at the table. He intertwined your fingers together, which took your mind off the embarrassment and shame of the situation at hand, reminding you how well your hands fit together. Eyes glued ahead of you, you took a bow as well, mumbled a quick apology, before San speedily led you out of the exposition hall. You heard Wooyoung stumble and follow quickly behind the two of you. 

The three of you didn’t stop walking until you were at the entrance of the hotel, in the parking lot. The night air was chilly, and you could feel San place his suit jacket atop your shoulders and around you out of instinct. Wooyoung stood, folded over, catching his breath. San had a hand on his head, rubbing his temple. You’d rarely ever seen him look so furious, so annoyed. Your vision growed blurrier and blurrier as the words she spoke replayed in your mind. You were right. You and San were from two separate worlds. He was the son of a renowned billionaire, and you were just some poor nobody, disposable at any second. All this hope you had in the two of you repairing your relationship, it was false. You just didn’t want to face it, but now you were forced to. You hastily swiped the tears away from under your eyes, trying to hide your tears so that you wouldn’t worry the two. But of course, your sadness could never escape San, as you heard him mumble ‘screw it’ under his breath, and take you in his arms. You collided into the warmth of his chest. The warmth that you’d missed so much. You felt yourself shatter, as the composure that you’d clung so hard onto was ruined in an instant. San enveloped you in a tight embrace, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other pulling you close into him at your waist. Your hands found their way onto his back, as you clung onto him, trying so hard to tell yourself that this was actually happening. That you weren’t just imagining it. Because for the first time in so long, you weren’t. You inhaled him, as the light scent of roses filled your nose. You could feel San gently kiss the top of your head as he held onto you even tighter. 

“Sorry, Sannie, so sorry,” you croaked, not even trying to correct yourself at the use of his nickname. It was one that only you and Wooyoung could use, one that if anyone else used, he would become instantly annoyed. You were sure you couldn’t use it anymore, but it slipped out in your chaotic state. You could feel San shake his head. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you now,” he reassured you. You pulled apart from him, as your gazes met for the millionth time that night. He smiled, wide enough that his dimples showed, before turning to Wooyoung, who was observing the two of you. He only hummed with an eyebrow raised, which earned him a kick from San. 

“Ah, I’m only joking, you know that Sannie,” he said, “anyway, I’m gonna head off now. You two need to talk.” Wooyoung said, before giving a salute, and walking out into the streets. Now it was just the two of you, standing, facing each other. Silent. 

“You know, I think he has a point,” you said with a light laugh, voice hoarse from the sobs. San only scoffed. 

“Yeah, he’s usually wrong but I think he’s right this time. We do need to talk, Y/N,” he said, looking into your eyes with the kind of genuineness you have never seen from anyone else. It was a look he would never give anyone else.

“My place?” you suggested, “for old time’s sake?” 

“Yeah, your place,” he agreed, as the two of you walked towards his car, “I got a bottle of red too, if you really want to do this ‘for old time’s sake’.” His proposition made you laugh, and nod, as he started the car.  

Seeing San in your living room again threw you for a whirl. You held the navy jacket of his suit, as he’d unbuttoned a few of the top buttons of his dress shirt for more comfort, though you did sneak in a few glances at the exposed bits of his chest. You went into your room to change into a more comfortable outfit, haphazardly throwing on a t-shirt and some shorts. When you came back out, San had already found the wine glasses, and was pouring both of you your wine. He handed you a glass, as the two of you sat down on your sofa. An idea struck you after a few sips of the drink, as you got up, and turned on your trusty vinyl player. A soft, soothing jazz melody played through the room. A smile spread on San’s lips as it played. Setting your wine glass down on the table, you extended a hand out to him. Wordlessly, he took it, as you pulled him up. The two of you swayed, finding your own rhythm shortly, naturally, like how it had always been. You danced with him like it was your wedding day, and the eyes of your family members, your friends, and everyone you knew were on you. You imagined yourself in your wedding dress, flowy and waving as you moved to the music with San. You imagined San as your groom, and the warm yellow lights of a ballroom shining on the two of you. The two of you found harmony in your steps, letting the music carry you, and your thoughts melt away. It was like you were never apart from one another. 

Eventually, the pace of your dancing changes, with the two of you settling into a slow dance. San’s hands were against your waist, yours in his neck and through his hair. You sighed, taking in the moment. His eyes were on you, and only on you, the way you liked it. In the spur of a moment as your inhibition slipped away from you, you connected your lips, meeting his in a soft, but fiery and passionate kiss. San didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, as your lips moved in a harmonious tandem like your bodies. You could taste the wine on his tongue, as your hand met the tender skin of his sharp jawline. The kiss started slow and languid, as the two of you tested the waters, afraid of breaking the unspoken harmony that you’d just rebuilt, but gradually became more heated. Before you knew it, you were out of breath, as you parted from him to regain it. But San didn’t relent, as he tried to lean in again, his eyes still shut, lips begging for more. His neediness caused you to lightly shove him off of you with a giggle. You missed this side of him. He opted to kiss along your neck and your jaw gently, without any ulterior intentions.

“I never moved on from you,” he whispered between kisses, “I think about you day and night. With every breath I take comes another thought of you.” You hummed, his pecks making it hard to focus on his words. 

“I missed you too, Sannie,” you confessed, “every time I plan a wedding I think about the one I planned for us. Every single time, and with you there today, it didn’t help a single bit.” you rambled. San stopped, looking at you, the universe in his eyes. 

“You planned our wedding?” he asked, voice almost cracking from emotion. You winced, cursing at yourself for letting it slip. He was still your ex-boyfriend, despite the fact that you had just been making out a few minutes prior. 

“Yeah, haha,” you mumbled, “guess I didn’t tell you back then… I’m a literal wedding planner, San. What do you expect from me?”

“Nono, I didn’t mean to ask that to embarrass you, I meant it genuinely,” he said, taking your hands in his and kissing the tips of your fingers, “tell me about it.” You gulped. 

“Well, I wanted us to get married in autumn, because winter is too cold, summer is too hot, and spring is so basic,” San giggled at your snarkiness, “I was thinking of a small wedding. An actual small wedding, with only people who mattered to us. Perhaps in a forest, or by the ocean. At least away from the city. The colors we’d use would be ivory, baby blue, and gold. I don’t know why, but that palette just speaks to me,” you continued, “and we’d get a small cake. Maybe we would even bake it ourselves, who knows. I also wanted to design my dress myself, of course, with the help of someone like Wooyoung who has an eye for fashion, but I wanted our wedding to be authentic. To be us, and not some manufactured, corporate mess.” San looked into your eyes, his own overflowing with love. He fumbled for something in his pocket, pulling out a ring, and handing it to you. Your jaw dropped, in shock and confusion. It was a beautiful little thing, with diamonds cresting it. Understated, in just the way you liked. As you spun it around, you saw both yours and his initials engraved on the inside of it, which meant this wasn’t an impulse buy, or meant for anyone else. It was for you solely. Before you could even ask, he spoke. 

“I actually got this just before we broke up. I intended on proposing to you back then,” he said, “I cut ties with my parents. Financially, that is. They’re still involved in my life to some degree. I did this because they were the ones that made me break up, and cut all contact with you,” your heart shattered, “they said a lot of nasty things about you, but because I was still financially reliant on them at the time, I had to comply. I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner. I understand if you can’t forgive me for that,” he said, taking a breath, “but I started the company I told you about earlier today with Wooyoung, and that kind of took off. It’s a fashion brand, no surprises, considering Wooyoung. Well, it took off enough for me to be financially independent, and without needing to rely on them for money, I could do whatever the hell I want with my life. And, I could finally get you back.” 

“Sannie, I,” you started, but he put a finger to your lips to shush you gently. 

“I want to make it a reality. I want to make us a reality. What do you say, Y/N?” he said, getting down on one knee, “marry me?” Your head whirred. You finally had all the answers you’d been longing for, but in gaining those answers, you got so much more. But what was most important, was that you had gotten your San back. 

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” you exclaimed breathlessly, kneeling down to pull your lover into your arms. San squeezed you, and slipped the ring on your finger. The both of you admired it, as he pressed a kiss into the side of your head. Slowly, you could feel your love for weddings return as you realized your love for San never left, and neither did his love for you. You two weren’t from the same world, but here you were, actively bridging the gap between them.

[puppy-lino]

I love the fact that in between all the angst, we have the menace that is Jung WooYoung

[alxdelusional]

BAHHAHAHAH i just thought he was so innately ✨wooyoung✨ and that little menace is so fun to write. and you can’t really have san w/o him 🤭🤭

[alxdelusional]

The Wedding Conundrum

⭒Pairing: Businessman! San x Wedding planner! Fem! Reader

⭒Genre: Exes to lovers, fluff, angst, some hurt but lots and lots of comfort

⭒Synopsis: You and San broke up three months ago, and have now somehow ended up attending the same wedding. As you see him again, you also realize that your feelings for him have not died one bit.

⭒Warnings: Break up, consumption of alcohol, reader breaks down, reader gets insulted, the name Chloe is used for a side character (no real life basis!!),

⭒Al's thoughts: This is my first fic, well, ever posted publicly! I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always appreciated, but if you are mean you are stinky >:(

⭒Word count: 5.29 K

You hate weddings. The ceremony was boring, long, full of superficial professions of love and old traditions rooted in misogyny. The receptions were alright, but the concept of being in a room with so many people, having to greet and chat with each one was an idea that sent shivers down your spine. Especially in the circles that you found yourself involved with, full of entitled, dainty, rich wives, and their sneaky, sly husbands. This fact was especially ironic when paired with your job as a wedding planner. Your name was a household one, passed through the cherry red lips from various women at their exquisite afternoon tea parties. You were grateful for it, because it meant that you always had work, and could always support yourself, but a part of you was sick of seeing the extravagant church weddings, and skyscraper height cakes. But you didn’t always hate weddings, if you did, you wouldn’t have chosen this job. No, you only hated weddings since about… three months and twenty-seven days ago exactly. And the reason behind your distaste of weddings, you actually met him at a wedding you planned one year ago. 

Choi San, the son of the man who started an international, elite hotel chain. Choi San, who you met a year ago at a wedding for one of his father’s business partners, and immediately connected with. Choi San, who you loved so fiercely until your relationship was put to a striking halt three months and twenty-seven days ago. Choi San, the reason why you hate weddings. When he ended the relationship, you cursed at yourself, saying how you knew it was a bad idea from the start, dating a rich boy. Despite your level-headed nature, San wasn’t the easiest person to get over. He wasn’t superficial. Of course, he had a superficial side to him, every businessman does. But you were shocked to find that he was the most real, and most ideal person you’d ever known. He never bragged about his money, or his status. If you saw him on the street, you wouldn’t bat an eye at him, as he held a strong distaste for branded, luxury clothes. Though, he would never hesitate to spoil you, and it took incessant assurance from you that his love was enough to stop him from buying you luxurious goods. And he never looked down on you, or anyone, for not having as much wealth as his family. The first time you had him over in your apartment you were insecure, describing it as ‘cramped’ to him. But he only looked at you with a kind smile, and said that it was cozy, and homey. You had so many fond memories with him in your apartment. From the times you would watch horror movies in your bed, you curled up in his healing arms, to the quiet, jazz-filled nights of the two of you slow dancing in the living room. Everywhere around you were memories of the two of you, which made him excruciating to move on from. And you thought you had done a pretty good job. Aside from a bittersweet twinge in your heart whenever you thought about him, you felt nothing. There was no romance left over between the two of you. The only detrimental impact was the fact that now weddings, even the thought of them, made you cringe in disgust. Love, in general, kind of sets you off. But you were able to look past that disgust, and continue with your job. Besides, you weren’t from the kind of family that had enough money to last you a couple lifetimes. You needed to fend for yourself, which is why you convinced yourself that you and San could never work. Because you were from two separate worlds, with a couple of galaxies between them. 

You pushed aside your disdain as you pulled up to the wedding venue. It was the wedding of a friend of yours. Not too close of a friend though, because in these circles, how real could a friendship get? Regardless, she still invited you to the wedding, partially out of friendship, partially out of courtesy, since you did plan it. Stepping out of the taxi, you approached the venue. She said she wanted a small wedding, and clearly the two of you did not have the same definition of the word ‘small’, as hers meant a full exposition hall in the best hotel in the area, and 500 guests. You weren’t sure of the specific guest list, as she had one of her husband’s assistants deal with that, but from what you heard it seemed like all the billionaires in the area were coming to this wedding. 

Strolling around the venue, which was quickly filling up with guests dressed in lavish dresses and fine suits, you admired the beauty of it. This was one of your favorite weddings that you had planned in a while. It had actual uniqueness to it, with its theme laying somewhere in between an ethereal, classic wedding, and a traditional Chinese wedding. You liked the hint of ancestry that came through, and internally praised the bride for wanting to preserve her culture. Ivory paper lanterns hung from the grand ceilings along with chandeliers, which struck a strange balance in the chaos it created. There were traditional china patterns on the ribbons that decorated the benches, and porcelain sculptures placed for decoration. The lights above showered the room in a golden glow. After swiftly greeting a few familiar faces including the bride’s family, and some other previous clients, you found a seat at an empty bench near the back, humming quietly to yourself, preparing for the boredom of another long ceremony. 

A voice takes you out of your thoughts, although hushed, you could never mistake it for anyone else’s. It had a distinctive kick to it, one that no other voice had. As you questioned if it belonged to who you thought it did, the signature laughter followed, confirming your suspicions. You took a slight glance back, and your eyes met those of Jung Wooyoung’s, who practically jumped in excitement. He was dressed in a standard black suit, albeit adorned with some rhinestones, with a pair of matching glittery sunglasses on top of his head. He waved excitedly at you, almost screaming your name, but stopping himself just before he did. Your eyes drifted next to the figure standing next to him, as your heart sank. Choi San, dressed in a dark navy suit that accentuated the broadness of his shoulders, was standing next to Wooyoung. Of course, it was expected, you rarely found one without the other, as they were childhood best friends. You almost cursed aloud, realizing that your navy dress, with his suit, made it look like you coordinated outfits to attend the wedding. A couple’s outfit. He had barely changed. His hair was short, neat, jet black and slicked back. It made him look even more handsome than he was. He was looking off into the distance, seemingly deep in thought judging by the slight arch of his brow, but it didn’t take too long for your eyes. You could’ve sworn his expression softened upon seeing you, and his gaze caused the air to get stuck in your throat. It was like the first time you ever saw him, which it kind of was, because you hadn’t seen him since your split. He gave you a slight nod and a small smile, which you returned, before swiftly turning back to face the front. Seeing him made you so happy, yet knowing that he was no longer yours stung like a knife in the heart. You could feel your cheeks turning redder and redder by the minute. All it took was one look from him to make you realize that you definitely were not over him. You hit your hand gently in anger, mad at your weakness. 

“Y/N-ah!” Wooyoung exclaimed as you turned to see him. You stood up to greet him, as he flung his arms around you. Despite also being a model, and hailing from an upper class family, Wooyoung was one of the only people you found to be genuine. You two also met at the same time you met San, and you quickly became close friends. Even though you weren’t with San anymore, Wooyoung still made sure to check in on you, and even hang out with you once in a while. Other than San of course, who could only look at you, expression blank. 

“Hey Wooyoung,” you laughed, as he let go of you. He kept his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down. 

“You look stunning today,” he said, “if only some of these people could take notes from you, cause some of these outfits are atrocious.” You chuckled at his flattery, sneaking glances at San. He had a small smile on his face, but avoided your gaze. You wanted nothing more than to pull him aside and just talk. Ask him about anything and everything, how his life was now, what he had been up to, everything. But you couldn’t. You guys weren’t on those terms. 

“You inflate my ego, Wooyoung,” you said. Wooyoung only batted his hand at you jokingly, as his eyes scanned the room. You followed his gaze, realizing that most of the benches were all full. Most of them, and not yours. San also seemed to notice that.

“Wooyoung, we should go find seats,” San said, his voice silky as ever. It was only then that you realized how much you missed his voice. The fact that the three of you sitting together wasn’t a given anymore shattered you. Wooyoung looked at him, feigning confusion. 

“We can sit with Y/N, right? Y/N can we sit with you?” he asked. Deep down, you knew he was plotting something, you looked to San, who exchanged a similar gaze of caution with you. But you wanted nothing more than to feel like everything was okay, and that the three of you were still okay, so you nodded. Wooyoung grinned, and sat on the inside of the bench, forcing San to sit between you two. Wooyoung smirked slyly as he watched him sit down, seemingly happy with himself. You didn’t want to believe that he also wanted to see you and San together again, and you dismissed his joy as a trick of your mind. Before any of you could speak again, the ceremony started. As the priest began speaking, you could feel yourself dozing off. 

“Still a master of your craft, I see,” you heard San whisper next to you, which woke you up. Initially, you didn’t think he was talking to you, so you looked over to find his gaze on you. His gaze flickered back to the proceeding ceremony, though, as everyone watched the bride walk out. He had an expression of shy playfulness. You laughed, trying to quell your pounding heart at the realization that he was leaning into you, trying to keep his words as discreet as possible. 

“Of course I am,” you say, “and I assume you’re still stuck waiting for your dad to pass the hotels down to you?” his expression soured at your question. 

“I’m actually, not,” he began, your eyes zipped back to him, confused, “I, I started my own company, with Wooyoung. I have no financial affiliations with my parents anymore.” Upon hearing his name, Wooyoung leaned into San. 

“What, is someone calling for me?” he said. San shoved him away lightly, trying to not draw attention to the three of you. You held back a chuckle, seeing the boys’ dynamic again. You missed it more than anything. 

“Were you falling asleep earlier?” San asked once Wooyoung was out of the way. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“How? You planned this wedding, you… loved weddings,” he said, gaze traveling to the floor, aware that he was treading in dangerous waters by bringing up things that he knew better than anyone. You laughed, more coldness showing in your voice than you intended. 

“I’ve changed since we last saw each other, San,” you said, and you couldn’t ignore the sorrowful glint in his eyes as they flickered between you, and the ceremony at the front, “besides, these things are boring. It’s just the same thing over and over again, you blabber on and on about your love for each other, and some old guy says that ‘now you may kiss’, and you’re done. And I’m not, not the biggest fan of professions of love, anymore.” San nodded, the air between you growing tense. He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. You both knew why. 

“You’re right, weddings are kind of boring,” he said, eyes meeting yours, “but not the ones you plan.” he said, his entire face smiling as his lips stretched into a thin line. You rolled your eyes and shoved him lightly, trying to mask the joy that his remark drowned you in. You also tried your hardest to not take his words to heart, in fear that it would ignite the sparks into flames. He seemed to notice, though, letting out a hushed, but cheery chuckle. Your eyes met again, as you swore his eyes sparkled. Then again it could be due to the disgustingly pretentious and exuberant chandeliers that hung overhead though. 

“Ugh, her dress is atrocious,” you heard Wooyoung remark from beside San, breaking the tension between the two of you. You snickered, as San was the one who rolled his eyes this time, “I mean look at it, the mesh and the lace are two different colors and NOT in a good way, the frills make the sleek fit of the bodice look like she’s wearing a fucking loofah. And that’s not even talking about the train? And the tattered ass veil?” You couldn’t hold back your laugh, as Wooyoung sounded genuinely upset. You could tell the fashion model inside of him was speaking. 

“I know right, and she spent like 200 grand on it,” you said, which caused Wooyoung to gasp audibly, attracting some glares from the people next to you. San hit Wooyoung on the shoulder, telling him to be quiet.

“200 GRAND?? If only I knew it was this easy to scam people,” he sighed, shaking his head in defeat. You couldn’t help but laugh, Wooyoung was always one to make you laugh. There was something so naturally and innately funny about his character, and his mannerisms. 

“Wooyoung, don’t talk badly about people when you are at their wedding,” San scolded like he was his father. Wooyoung shrunk, pulling a face as he tried to hold back his laughter. You only smiled, gaze fixed on the bride and groom, who were now exchanging their vows. As the ceremony ended and their lips met, you were one of the first people to stand up and excuse yourself in the middle of the cheers and applause. Giving a wave to San and Wooyoung, you ran straight to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on your face, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Memories of your time with San kept coming back to you, and for the first time in months, you faced the fact that you missed him. You tried to stop the tears from rolling down, but you couldn’t. A part of you was happy he was acting like nothing happened between the two of you, while the other part was screaming for answers to why he left you so suddenly, and why you haven’t seen him or even spoken to him until today. Both of those parts could agree on one thing though: you missed San like the tide would miss the shore, like the moon would miss the sun. If you believed in souls, you would admit that your soul missed him. That your soul was aching for him. You put a hand over your mouth to quiet your sobs, shakily collecting yourself to at least make it through the wedding. With an inhale, and your commercial smile you used to greet the likes of your clients, you walked out of the bathroom. 

People were making their way to the reception, as you weaved through the crowd. Upon giving your name, you were led by one of the wait staff to a table that was empty. There were 12 sets of ornate, dining utensils set out on the ivory table cloth. The reception hall was decorated similarly to the main venue, with similar elements of culture and elegance running through it. A big, porcelain dragon hung off the ceiling, which captivated you with its level of detail. You weren’t alone for long though, as two familiar faces were led to the table where you were sitting. 

“Must be fate!” you heard Wooyoung say while sitting down. 

“Must be,” you laughed, defeated. If there was a deity out there, they wanted you dead. San sat down on your right, in between you and Wooyoung. You two exchanged a quick glance, with you not wanting to give away your breakdown earlier due to the glassiness of your eyes. Nothing you ever did could escape San, though, as his eyes lingered on you for a moment, silently asking if you were okay. You only broke eye contact, playing dumb and not giving him a response. Others began sitting down at your table, most of which were familiar faces. The bride’s close friend Chloe, and your acquaintance by association, sat down next to you, giving you a squeaky hello. You weren’t particularly fond of her, as she was the exact superficial archetype that you hated. Even with that, you still acknowledged her kindly. The amused glance she gave to San did not slide by you, as her eyes dragged up and down his body. You felt a sting of jealousy, only to remember that you had no relation to him anymore, and that you couldn’t stop anyone from hitting on him. 

As the meals were served, you watched, more pained than you’d like to admit, while Chloe struck up conversation with San. He responded politely, though never fully engaging her. You could sense some of the superficiality in his voice as he spoke to her. While shoving a piece of steak into your mouth, you caught a glimpse of Wooyoung, who gave his best friend a nasty glare. You scoffed, going back to eating. Bits of the conversation flowed in and out of your awareness, as you sat in between it. One phrase did catch your attention though.

“So, San,” she called him affectionately, as if they’d known each other for years, “are you single? Could I get your number?” You froze in your chewing, bracing internally for his response. 

“I’m not available,” he replied calmly, expression morphing into one of calm blankness. He looked into your eyes as he said so, while you cautiously, hesitantly met his gaze. You could hear Wooyoung’s sigh of relief at his response. Chloe caught on faster than you thought she would. Faster than you thought she could. She let out a huff of disgust.

“Really. Y/N? Her? You’re seriously gonna waste your time on some poor nobody?” yours, San’s, and Wooyoung’s eyes all blew wide at her words, “I mean look at her. You’re going to settle for this?” As if your night couldn’t get worse, you now had to deal with someone putting you down. You bit on your tongue hard to keep the tears, and your anger, at bay. You and San weren’t even together anymore. He had no obligation to defend you, nor was he ‘settling’ for you. You had to bear the brutality of her words alone. But you felt San put his hand on top of yours, giving it a light squeeze. You met his gaze, his sharp eyes full of burning fury, but also riddled with concern. You nodded, as he looked back at Chloe, the concern melting away. 

“I won’t tolerate you insulting my-,” he stopped himself, “Y/N, like this. So if you would please excuse us, we have somewhere to be. Apologies for the suddenness of our departure.” He said sternly, with a bow to the rest of the people at the table. He intertwined your fingers together, which took your mind off the embarrassment and shame of the situation at hand, reminding you how well your hands fit together. Eyes glued ahead of you, you took a bow as well, mumbled a quick apology, before San speedily led you out of the exposition hall. You heard Wooyoung stumble and follow quickly behind the two of you. 

The three of you didn’t stop walking until you were at the entrance of the hotel, in the parking lot. The night air was chilly, and you could feel San place his suit jacket atop your shoulders and around you out of instinct. Wooyoung stood, folded over, catching his breath. San had a hand on his head, rubbing his temple. You’d rarely ever seen him look so furious, so annoyed. Your vision growed blurrier and blurrier as the words she spoke replayed in your mind. You were right. You and San were from two separate worlds. He was the son of a renowned billionaire, and you were just some poor nobody, disposable at any second. All this hope you had in the two of you repairing your relationship, it was false. You just didn’t want to face it, but now you were forced to. You hastily swiped the tears away from under your eyes, trying to hide your tears so that you wouldn’t worry the two. But of course, your sadness could never escape San, as you heard him mumble ‘screw it’ under his breath, and take you in his arms. You collided into the warmth of his chest. The warmth that you’d missed so much. You felt yourself shatter, as the composure that you’d clung so hard onto was ruined in an instant. San enveloped you in a tight embrace, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other pulling you close into him at your waist. Your hands found their way onto his back, as you clung onto him, trying so hard to tell yourself that this was actually happening. That you weren’t just imagining it. Because for the first time in so long, you weren’t. You inhaled him, as the light scent of roses filled your nose. You could feel San gently kiss the top of your head as he held onto you even tighter. 

“Sorry, Sannie, so sorry,” you croaked, not even trying to correct yourself at the use of his nickname. It was one that only you and Wooyoung could use, one that if anyone else used, he would become instantly annoyed. You were sure you couldn’t use it anymore, but it slipped out in your chaotic state. You could feel San shake his head. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you now,” he reassured you. You pulled apart from him, as your gazes met for the millionth time that night. He smiled, wide enough that his dimples showed, before turning to Wooyoung, who was observing the two of you. He only hummed with an eyebrow raised, which earned him a kick from San. 

“Ah, I’m only joking, you know that Sannie,” he said, “anyway, I’m gonna head off now. You two need to talk.” Wooyoung said, before giving a salute, and walking out into the streets. Now it was just the two of you, standing, facing each other. Silent. 

“You know, I think he has a point,” you said with a light laugh, voice hoarse from the sobs. San only scoffed. 

“Yeah, he’s usually wrong but I think he’s right this time. We do need to talk, Y/N,” he said, looking into your eyes with the kind of genuineness you have never seen from anyone else. It was a look he would never give anyone else.

“My place?” you suggested, “for old time’s sake?” 

“Yeah, your place,” he agreed, as the two of you walked towards his car, “I got a bottle of red too, if you really want to do this ‘for old time’s sake’.” His proposition made you laugh, and nod, as he started the car.  

Seeing San in your living room again threw you for a whirl. You held the navy jacket of his suit, as he’d unbuttoned a few of the top buttons of his dress shirt for more comfort, though you did sneak in a few glances at the exposed bits of his chest. You went into your room to change into a more comfortable outfit, haphazardly throwing on a t-shirt and some shorts. When you came back out, San had already found the wine glasses, and was pouring both of you your wine. He handed you a glass, as the two of you sat down on your sofa. An idea struck you after a few sips of the drink, as you got up, and turned on your trusty vinyl player. A soft, soothing jazz melody played through the room. A smile spread on San’s lips as it played. Setting your wine glass down on the table, you extended a hand out to him. Wordlessly, he took it, as you pulled him up. The two of you swayed, finding your own rhythm shortly, naturally, like how it had always been. You danced with him like it was your wedding day, and the eyes of your family members, your friends, and everyone you knew were on you. You imagined yourself in your wedding dress, flowy and waving as you moved to the music with San. You imagined San as your groom, and the warm yellow lights of a ballroom shining on the two of you. The two of you found harmony in your steps, letting the music carry you, and your thoughts melt away. It was like you were never apart from one another. 

Eventually, the pace of your dancing changes, with the two of you settling into a slow dance. San’s hands were against your waist, yours in his neck and through his hair. You sighed, taking in the moment. His eyes were on you, and only on you, the way you liked it. In the spur of a moment as your inhibition slipped away from you, you connected your lips, meeting his in a soft, but fiery and passionate kiss. San didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, as your lips moved in a harmonious tandem like your bodies. You could taste the wine on his tongue, as your hand met the tender skin of his sharp jawline. The kiss started slow and languid, as the two of you tested the waters, afraid of breaking the unspoken harmony that you’d just rebuilt, but gradually became more heated. Before you knew it, you were out of breath, as you parted from him to regain it. But San didn’t relent, as he tried to lean in again, his eyes still shut, lips begging for more. His neediness caused you to lightly shove him off of you with a giggle. You missed this side of him. He opted to kiss along your neck and your jaw gently, without any ulterior intentions.

“I never moved on from you,” he whispered between kisses, “I think about you day and night. With every breath I take comes another thought of you.” You hummed, his pecks making it hard to focus on his words. 

“I missed you too, Sannie,” you confessed, “every time I plan a wedding I think about the one I planned for us. Every single time, and with you there today, it didn’t help a single bit.” you rambled. San stopped, looking at you, the universe in his eyes. 

“You planned our wedding?” he asked, voice almost cracking from emotion. You winced, cursing at yourself for letting it slip. He was still your ex-boyfriend, despite the fact that you had just been making out a few minutes prior. 

“Yeah, haha,” you mumbled, “guess I didn’t tell you back then… I’m a literal wedding planner, San. What do you expect from me?”

“Nono, I didn’t mean to ask that to embarrass you, I meant it genuinely,” he said, taking your hands in his and kissing the tips of your fingers, “tell me about it.” You gulped. 

“Well, I wanted us to get married in autumn, because winter is too cold, summer is too hot, and spring is so basic,” San giggled at your snarkiness, “I was thinking of a small wedding. An actual small wedding, with only people who mattered to us. Perhaps in a forest, or by the ocean. At least away from the city. The colors we’d use would be ivory, baby blue, and gold. I don’t know why, but that palette just speaks to me,” you continued, “and we’d get a small cake. Maybe we would even bake it ourselves, who knows. I also wanted to design my dress myself, of course, with the help of someone like Wooyoung who has an eye for fashion, but I wanted our wedding to be authentic. To be us, and not some manufactured, corporate mess.” San looked into your eyes, his own overflowing with love. He fumbled for something in his pocket, pulling out a ring, and handing it to you. Your jaw dropped, in shock and confusion. It was a beautiful little thing, with diamonds cresting it. Understated, in just the way you liked. As you spun it around, you saw both yours and his initials engraved on the inside of it, which meant this wasn’t an impulse buy, or meant for anyone else. It was for you solely. Before you could even ask, he spoke. 

“I actually got this just before we broke up. I intended on proposing to you back then,” he said, “I cut ties with my parents. Financially, that is. They’re still involved in my life to some degree. I did this because they were the ones that made me break up, and cut all contact with you,” your heart shattered, “they said a lot of nasty things about you, but because I was still financially reliant on them at the time, I had to comply. I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner. I understand if you can’t forgive me for that,” he said, taking a breath, “but I started the company I told you about earlier today with Wooyoung, and that kind of took off. It’s a fashion brand, no surprises, considering Wooyoung. Well, it took off enough for me to be financially independent, and without needing to rely on them for money, I could do whatever the hell I want with my life. And, I could finally get you back.” 

“Sannie, I,” you started, but he put a finger to your lips to shush you gently. 

“I want to make it a reality. I want to make us a reality. What do you say, Y/N?” he said, getting down on one knee, “marry me?” Your head whirred. You finally had all the answers you’d been longing for, but in gaining those answers, you got so much more. But what was most important, was that you had gotten your San back. 

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” you exclaimed breathlessly, kneeling down to pull your lover into your arms. San squeezed you, and slipped the ring on your finger. The both of you admired it, as he pressed a kiss into the side of your head. Slowly, you could feel your love for weddings return as you realized your love for San never left, and neither did his love for you. You two weren’t from the same world, but here you were, actively bridging the gap between them.

[alxdelusional]

⋆｡˚About me˚｡⋆

Hello world (can't you see?), I'm al. If you found this and are reading this right now, welcome. I really appreciate you.

I am very much a multistan, with Ateez as my ult group. I don't want to disclose who my bias is because I will feel really REALLY guilty if it changes, but I can say that I fell in love with Ateez as a whole after my best friend brainwashed me into liking them. I also really, really love Straykids, Enhypen, Seventeen, and Twice. I also listen to many other groups too, and I'm always willing to fangirl about any of them (just message me :>).

I'm a student, and I have a very hectic schedule and very disgusting procrastination habits AND ADHD to top it all off so I cannot guarantee consistent updates. This blog may die, but be suddenly, and unpredictably revived. I also make art, but I don't know if I will ever post that.

I will say that I think the main group I will write for is Ateez, however that may change.

The world does not lack authors for Ateez (there are so many skilled ones already), but this seemed fun and sharing some little snippets of the happenings of my mind is something I am in no way against doing. So here I am. This is my little delusional journal, and if you're here, feel free to stay.

(PS. I did not initially intend on becoming a fanfic writer; I was always just an enjoyer. But I read a fic that absolutely demolished me emotionally and now here I am.)

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗