thanks for the tag @nichoberri babo you never bother me!!
i always get told i remind people of a black cat, especially people who know me irl because they say im quiet but intelligent (this is not self glaze i swear they say this)
but they also say owls and it used to be my fav animal for a long long time
only my sisters say i would be a pufferfish if i was an animal because im cute until i get mad but i think thats pretty accurate😭
Wait this is so cute ty for the tag love @sunmoonnie
tag game ! — what animals represent you
Am convinced that the deer is the one that resembles me mosapparently because my face fits the "deer archetype beauty" However sometimes given my booba eyes and slightly round face people also commonly say I remind them of a pump or a rabbit but the most one is deer🦌🐰🐶
thank you for the tag @woninlove I love these type of games so much!
Swimming Otter 🦦Because I'm a lane swimmer (freestyler) and synchronized swimmer (basically dancing in the water). I also used to do board diving.
Elephant 🐘: emotionally intelligent like my parents (my brother says so too I had to ask him)
Scottish Fold Cat: My elderly neighbor is a cat mom, and she says I remind her of a Scottish Fold 🐈 because of my quiet demeanour and round face. It's kind of cute.
honorable mention: Poodle Pups: My friends and cousins said it's because of my wavy curls. They also said I'm very reserved and observant when it comes to people.
tags (feel free to join if you see this in your fyp): @addictedtohobi @grandlightcandy @m1kkso @en-cityyy @aloveminsalade @ayliyahlyla @airixki @kjunebuggie @reep04 @mysticaljiminie @nicaa9002 @samsquanch02 @mayawastaken26 @satorusleft-eye @saphiranishimurashan @beomgyustea @justpassingdontworry @sugarangelhoon @iiamskz
pairing. hockey player ! james / f ! figure skater reader
info. strangers to situationship, morally grey characters on all sides, jealousy, emotional unavailability (both directions), soul tied bc of intimacy type thing, awful communication, fluff and angst
warnings. lowk recommend to be 16+ or so if u can't digest deeper themes, very suggestive themes (nothing explicit ofc), profanity, toxicity, possessiveness, kissing, arguing/banter, implied sneaky link intimacy
SYNOPSIS. you are on the perfect track to success and competing at the highest level of figure skating. james is seemingly on a similarly perfect track to playing in the NHL. there’s no reason to risk either of those things, so what’s the harm of a small fling? a small fling… that occurs almost every other night and includes a sprinkle bit too much of emotion that probably shouldn’t be there. you were both too committed, too closed off, too sharp at the edges for anything real to catch. four months in and you're still telling yourself that. you're both very good liars.
taglist. comment to be added for fic taglist & permanent taglist here
please specify which TL !
LISTEN TO... care by sonder ... stateside by zara larsson and pinkpantheress ... glorybox by portishead ... pushing it down and praying and ...what are we? by lizzy mcalpine ... wicked games by the weeknd ... devotion by dijon and justin bieber ... champagne coast by blood orange... illicit affairs and cowboy like me by taylor swift ... back to friends and undressed by sombr ... bags by clairo ... purple rain by prince ... no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys ... robbers by the 1975 ...
POWERPLAY RECORD
[ONGOING]
taglist. comment to be added for fic taglist & permanent taglist here
please specify which TL !
romeo!james x juliet!reader ♡ set in 1960s shanghai
( syn. ) only a boy stupid in love would risk his life going to the side of the city he’s not supposed to be in. but for the son and heir of the zhao family, it’s easy to be a fool if the evening promises james a night of his two favourite things: dancing, and you.
( tags ) r&j au • implied f!reader • set in the 1960s (though not too sure how accurate my writing is…) • forbidden love trope • implied gang violence (i don’t condone😭🤞) • mentions of blood • some lines can be taken as suggestive but this one shot is sfw • slightly inspired by ‘these violent delights’ by chloe gong/ ‘romeo and juliet’ by willy shakespeare) and ‘something stupid’ by frank and nancy sinatra as requested by my snoopy @soupysnoopy1 ♥️ • author’s note at the end! • wc: 4415
ONCE THE SUN HITS the horizon, everyone knows it's time to call their children inside and close all doors.
No matter how much the romantically orange sky may call one’s name, the blood feud on Shanghai’s streets isn't to be brushed off casually. Indeed, the Zhao family and their allies keep the threat of violence lingering in every corner, as each streetlamp begins to mechanically turn on.
But against all reasoning of safety and logic, Shanghai’s youth can’t help themselves from meeting after sunset. After all, when the days are gripped in helpless fear of bloodshed, it's the night that lets you feel alive. Which is why, when the familiar sound of pebbles being thrown on your window catches your attention, you don’t find yourself waiting too long to make your way to tie the velvet purple curtains back.
Leaning against your polished windowsill, you thank the stars your room is on the right side of your home – the window secluded from the main road and with it, any wandering eyes.
You thank your stars even more for the sight below you; Zhao Yufan, standing like a fool, hoping for simply a glimpse of you.
“My father will kill you if he sees you,” you state plainly, after sliding the window open.
“I’ll try my chances,” he shrugs, a smile already growing on his face. It’s going to be a lucky night for him – he can feel it in his bones. He put on his best dark grey suit for it too.
“I’m serious, y'know? The stunt your uncle pulled last Saturday… you shouldn’t be on our side of the city these days.” You warn. “Someone could walk past right now, and in two rounds of Chinese whispers, you’d be in a box.”
“Then I should make my way up to your room, shouldn’t I?” He tilts his head, never breaking your gaze as he does so.
The light breeze wafts through the strands of your hair. From his position, he swears you look like an angel – or maybe it’s just the light of the lampshade in your room. He makes a mental note to check, because he simply cannot accept you’re waltzing around looking like that so effortlessly.
“Oh, I don’t know… you’ll ruin that fancy suit of yours,” you retort. There’s no chance you haven’t eyed the way his shoulders look broader in it either.
To that, he simply scoffs. Skillfully stepping back, he makes a long jump at the crevices in the walls outside your home. The route he uses – the grasping of specific tree branches, and the stepping on certain bricks that stick out – has become a familiar one.
The combat training passed down from his elders since his childhood, has made the boy an expert at using his strong arms to get to you. The Zhao family would shudder in disappointment knowing his agility is being used to sneak into your room, but we digress.
“Good evenin’,” he breathes out. He isn’t bothered by the physical movement done moments before, and so, he decides the trouble in his lungs right now must be attributed to finally, finally, being with you again. Two days is far too long spent away from you.
The Zhao family, known for their elegance as the prestigious powerhouse of Shanghai, has only one son, and he’s now a blushing mess in your room. All elegance of prestige thrown out the window he just climbed through.
You’ve moved back to let him in, admiring his gelled and styled hair up close. He must have something planned for the two of you tonight, and it’d be a lie to say you weren’t already eager to go. “Hello, Yufan.”
His hands, which weren’t wasting a second to reach out to hold you, suddenly short-circuited.
At his pause, a small laugh chokes out of you.
“You know that’s not what you call me here. Not when we’re alone,” he sighs, taking a small step towards you but still not yet letting himself make contact.
Giving him a short nod, not wanting to tease him as much as you normally do, you playfully sigh back. “So high maintenance,” you smile at his slight pout. “Hello, James.”
The name he’s chosen – the one with no ties to his family and his title in Shanghai – being said out loud by your voice, is all the permission James needs to place his hands on your waist.
Your secret moments with him these past few months still haven’t gotten you used to the way James feels when he touches you. His hands, warm like the sun, set you on fire.
“Seonghyeon is hosting a gathering tonight. Think you’ll have the time to spend an evening with me?” James starts smart – he knows this is an event you couldn’t resist.
A breath of relief escapes you. Unbeknownst to him, James was right. This was something you could agree to being whisked away to.
The Eom family had stayed neutral – or as neutral as one family could be – between the two sides of the city. Their connections to the West left them at an advantage over all families within Shanghai, and so, both the Zhaos and your family, have remained in their debt to access international goods.
In fact, you’ve seen the Eom children around often. Free to pass through both of the city’s divided parts, they’d made it their duty to host the secret get-togethers of Shanghai’s youth.
Seonghyeon, the heir to the Eom’s legacy, was well known to be the first in town to have records from foreign artists. His bona fide gramophone, and endless collection of music so smooth you couldn’t believe your ears, made his social gatherings the most anticipated within your social circles. As long as your parents believed the Zhaos and their allies weren’t in attendance, you were free to do whatever you willed with the Eoms.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You ask, excitement growing, and James can’t stop both sets of dimples from appearing on his face. “I have nothing to wear!”
Suddenly jumping out of his arms to run to your neatly organised dresses, you sift through each hanger as quickly as possible. James grumbles at your absence, but makes his way to your canopy bed.
“Easy,” James shrugs, allowing himself to get comfortable. “Wear the red one I like.”
You glance back at him, knowing his intentions immediately. Unfortunately, his suggestion is one you don’t disagree with.
The red dress, in all its glory, is at the back of the line. You’re about to turn around with it off the hanger, when with no explanation, James suddenly rolls off of your sheets, sliding himself underneath the bedframe with the ends of his shoes peaking out from the canopy bed’s curtains.
“What are you doi-” You don’t finish your question. Without warning, your mother sharply opens your door.
“Who are you talking to?” She demands, a line of suspicion on her forehead, gazing right to the window where she thought you’d be. It hasn’t been the first time she’s caught you talking to the Zhao boy – against her wishes, at that.
“Myself, ma.” You say immediately, stepping into the act of a perfect daughter as naturally as you can. You will yourself to calm your nervous heart and do everything in your power to not even blink in the direction James is hiding in.
Your mother hums, eyeing the dress in your arms. “I could’ve sworn you were talking to that boy again.”
Worse. ‘That boy’ in question was underneath your bed, his long frame threatening to peek out even more from under the overdraped covers.
You knew you had already tested your mother’s patience with the Zhaos. She was used to brushing off your questioning when you were younger, simply explaining the feud between your family and his as something you’d understand later in adulthood.
But after the one instance he walked you home, finding you hurt five months ago, she’s had her suspicions about the developing relationship between you two. Your mother personally believed you could’ve made it home with your bleeding arm on your own, but secretly appreciated the act of chivalry from Zhao Yufan, nonetheless.
The three of you knew better than to tell anyone else about that day’s events. Especially your mother, who noticed the way James had stared at you like you were something out of his dreams. She had sent him home immediately, and forbade you from making contact with him again.
Such warnings went in one ear and out the other however, when he came back, throwing pebbles at your windows only hours later. You’d barely even known his name back then, only that he was a Zhao.
Smiling fondly at the memory of the first encounters with your James, you shake yourself out of your thoughts.
“No, ma.” You start, “Yufan doesn’t call for me anymore.”
Lie.
“Well, I’d hope not. Your arm’s been long healed.” Your mother huffs, as she gestures towards the dress in your hands. “Going somewhere?”
You shake your head, “Only leaving it out for tomorrow.”
Another lie.
Your mother watches you intently, reaching a cold hand out to take hold of your cheek. “I miss when you weren’t such a grown girl.”
“Easier to control?”
A scowl spreads across her face. “Don’t say horrible things like that.”
Ruining her mood always cuts short her times in your room, with tonight not an exception. Your mother makes her departure, and when she’s finally closed the door behind her again, you scramble to change out of your nightgown.
A voice from under your bed interrupts your movements. “Can I come out yet?”
“You tell me, James.” You continue zipping up the soft fabric of the red dress. “You were the one who heard her footsteps before I did.”
Feeling his legs beginning to ache from crouching in the uncomfortable position for so long, James pushes himself out from his hiding place. Close call.
He takes a minute to adjust his eyes to the brightness of your room again, but all the trouble goes to waste when you step out from behind your closet door, sliding in a hairpin behind your ear.
His jaw clenches at the sight of you, and it takes a few heartbeats before James’ breathing steadies. “Was a bad decision asking you to wear that dress,” he mumbles.
“You like?” You ask, giving him a small twirl with a devilish smile plastered on your face. You already knew the answer, of course – there’s a reason this dress isn’t worn regularly. It’s saved for special occasions, where you feel bold enough to let the darker shade of red hug your figure the way it does. You just enjoy seeing James flustered.
“Agreeing that I only ‘like’ it would be an understatement.”
He takes three long strands to get to you, and dares to trace the skin of your shoulder that’s exposed. The dark look in his eyes reveals to you everything you need to know, and a slow, satisfied, smirk takes over.
“Time to go, James.” You tell him, not wanting to miss a minute more of Seonghyeon’s music. “I want to dance.”
Regretfully following you to the window, James makes sure you get out safely first, before starting to climb out after you. Your dress makes the departure down a slow one, but you’re a giggling mess by the time you and James are on the ground, already high off of the thrill of being with him in the night again.
To be seen with a gentleman during the evenings without a chaperone was scandalous on its own, but to be caught with James, would be the start of something far worse. A slaughter for both sides of the long-standing feud that you don’t even want to imagine.
Thoughts of your families vanish into thin air when you’re with him though, as being with James doesn’t feel like you’re doing anything wrong. Instead, it’s quite the opposite – you’ve almost forgotten the girl you were before he came into your quiet life, filling it with shades of bright colours you didn't even know had existed yet. For something so looked down upon within the city’s scene, it felt so, so right.
It’s not long before the two of you make it outside the entrance of Eom Seonghyeon’s lounge. It crosses the unmarked border of your side of the city, but you know you’re safe here – you’re safe with James.
From an outsider’s perspective, the silent street doesn’t allude to anything remotely interesting happening inside. The venue’s harsh doors and long stairway, capture all the music underground.
Seonghyeon, with his hair slicked back, and his typical grey suit jacket on his shoulders, greets the both of you with a warm hug when he sees you make your way down the stairs. The red dress is hard to miss.
“What’s on the menu for tonight, Hyeon?” James asks, the different shadows and lights of the room casting a gorgeous glow on his already warm cheeks.
“Jazz, my boy.” Seonghyeon walks backwards as he points to the gramophone playing an unfamiliar, curious melody. “New Sinatra!”
The place is busy with Seonghyeon’s usual circles from both sides of the city. Groups had begun to mingle already – friends of the Zhaos mixing with the Edwards and Ahns as if Shanghai’s historical boundaries didn’t exist. Suppose, they didn’t seem to. Not when the evening was blossoming with fresh tunes.
This city’s gangs may be networks of criminals above the law, but above these family feuds, was simply the art of jazz.
Attending as what looked like a couple, you and James had been a mysterious topic of conversation between Shanghai’s youth – could you two really be together?
It’s a great trust the two of you have put in the teenagers and young adults here. A murmur of a rumour to the older generations would add fuel to the fuse that never seems to end… but the logic was simple: I won’t tell my parents you’re here, if you don’t tell your parents I’m here too.
And so, the children of Shanghai’s notorious families dance the nights away together in as much harmony as they can, every Thursday night.
James’ presence lights up the room, the same way he lights up your heart. The Zhao boy, known here for his natural rhythm in footstep, used to have girls lining up for just a chance of one dance with him.
Almost everybody had taken a glance at James when he walked in, and with you in his arms right besides him tonight, it was a sight of envy for every boy in the venue.
“Come with me,” James says in a low voice, his right hand moving from your waist to take hold of your own hand. He pushes through the crowds and leads you straight to the middle of the dancefloor. You can already feel the electrifying way your blood is pumping through your body.
“I love jazz,” you smile up at him, once the two of you had found a spot of your own. James looks stunning in this light, sharp features but soft gaze, all paying attention to you.
“I know,” his eyes are crinkling now too. Oh, the things he’d do to keep that smile on you ‘til the end of time. “You wanted to dance, right? Let’s dance.”
James’ style was so different from any other boy you had danced with before. His movements were smooth, gliding the two of you across the room like he’s done this with you thousands of times. Entranced by being so close to him, and the heat of his body radiating onto yours, you let yourself follow his footwork.
He’s lucky his body remembers how to take over when he’s dancing – muscle memory, the same in combat – because James’ head is currently too busy, filled with how intoxicating your perfume is. Inhaling your now-familiar scent, James never wants to let you go. Even straying away for a second to let you twirl is too far away for him (but the bright joy on your face makes the sacrifices worth it).
Ignoring the way you feel many eyes on you, your confidence grows as you move beautifully in time with James. Ballroom dancing had been a mandatory task your parents put you in as a child, but it is with James, that you feel the impact of its culture.
It’s only three songs on the floor together before you already need a break. “Drink?” you mouth to James, face flushed from the dancing. He nods before the two of you make your way to the refreshments table, nodding and waving to various people as you go. The whispers and giggles as people watch, can no longer be avoided.
“Have you been practicing?” James begins to tease. “You’re getting better. You’ll possibly be better than me soon.”
He’s pouring you a cup of iced tea before your small conversations are interrupted by a keen voice. No introductions or greetings necessary, Kim Juhoon cuts through the current Vietnamese jazz track like a knife.
“It’s funny,” Juhoon glances between you and James, “Eom told me not to come tonight, but I had to see with my own eyes if Martin was pulling on my leg or not.”
The Kim family was close with yours – you and Juhoon had grown up across the road from each other. As children, your parents had always believed the two of you would eventually get married too, sealing the alliance like a transaction.
It was a shame for both your families, when both of you had only strictly seen each other as siblings. Juhoon, overprotective of you from the day you had met, immediately took a dislike to the Zhaos. At first, you thought he had simply fallen victim to his family’s teachings, but you couldn’t help but wonder if his distrust towards Yufan recently had to do with the knowledge that you thought he was beautiful.
“No trouble here tonight, man.” James responds, starting to pour a second drink for himself.
A chuckle. “If anything, you’re the one starting trouble, Zhao.” Juhoon’s eyebrows lift in your direction.
The intentional use of family names angers you enough to speak up. “Leave me be, Juhoon.” Even before you had started seeing James, Juhoon made it clear he didn’t approve of any boys in Shanghai showing you romantic attention, let alone the son of the Zhaos.
“So the whispers are true? You really are messing around with him.” Juhoon continues, only looking at you now.
The accusation of ‘messing around’ leaves a sour taste in James’ mouth, and no amount of sips of iced tea is sweetening it out. What had been growing between you two these past few months, was beginning to feel more to him than simply being curious about the girl his family felt generational hatred towards.
Juhoon lets out a low whistle. “I’m just saying… I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s only hanging around for some ulterior motives. You know what they’re like.”
James makes a threat to step forward, but Juhoon takes a step back faster, with a playful expression, and hands raised to show retreat.
“I suggest you go.” James says, “I said no trouble tonight, but we’re still on my side of Shanghai.”
When Juhoon is back in his own circle with Martin and the youngest Ahn boy, you turn towards James and pull him close. Taking the refreshments with you, you drag James to a loveseat in the corner of the lounge – the music is quieter here, the sultry strings of guitar becoming a backdrop for the rest of the time you want to spend with your boy.
“I’m sorry about him, James.” You begin. “Thinks he’s my brother or something…”
But James just shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. He brought up what we’ve been avoiding anyway.”
He says your name as a question, unsure of how to begin the conversation.
How does James even start trying to accept that soon, he can’t be with you? That neither of your families will allow it? That one day, you’ll both be forced into unhappy marriages with somebody else? The mere thought of that last question makes him resort to unbelievable anger.
Having only spent a few months with you, James already knows you’re it for him. There can’t possibly be somebody, who ever makes him feel as much as you do. Who makes him feel as alive as you do.
“You want to discuss this now? In here?” You glance at the lounge, still bustling with young adults finding each other in the darkness to dance.
A gentle laugh escapes him, as he calls your name once more, to get your attention back on him.
In a serious tone now, James asks, “You don’t believe what Juhoon was talking about, do you?”
You swallow. It had occurred in your mind at first, yes, given the cat and mouse game your family had been playing with his for years, long before the two of you even existed. Members of your family, your friends, and at one point, you, had all been hurt at the hands of the Zhaos – falling for their only son was a complicated, and dangerous line you’d been tiptoeing since November.
“Not anymore,” you admit.
But he understands. “It would’ve been foolish if you hadn’t. I had my suspicions at first too.”
There was once a time when you swore you were only saying yes to his evening endeavours for your family – acting as an inside spy to what the Zhaos were like, and hoping for James to reveal any useful information you could’ve brought back home.
But nights quickly began to blur into hours of exploring something else with him, something real. It was so easy to be conjured up in the midnight conversations, where the world was empty save for the two of you.
“And now?” You ask, another small huff of laughter escaping.
And now, James wants to take you away from Shanghai. Away from this mess, where he can love you as freely as any man should. He’d ask you to elope tomorrow if he could.
“Would you let me say it out loud?” James tests the waters.
Your head tilts in confusion. What more was there to say except that the two of you have found a liking for one another?
Your name again, and then, “I lo-”
That’s when your eyes widen in realisation.
“Don’t,” you say suddenly, pressing two fingers on his soft lips. “Don’t spoil it all by saying something stupid.” Your voice is kind though, hoping he knows you’re not stopping him because you don’t feel the same way, but because saying it out loud makes the fantasy you two are in, vanish. Saying it out loud makes it real, with its consequences and all.
For a few moments more – just a few more if the stars will allow it, you don’t want to be the daughter and son of a Shanghai feud again. You want to stay here, being you and James.
Your eyes are so intensely staring into his own earnest ones, you almost don’t realise he’s kissed the two fingers still on his lips.
“Alright,” he sighs, moving his head back, almost looking like he’s in pain to do so. “I won’t say it, but know that I feel it. I feel it so much, I can’t feel anything else.
The things Juhoon said… I wouldn’t dare to have any ill intentions towards you. I never have… that’s all them.”
“I know, James.” The way you say his name goes straight to his heart again. “I feel it all the same, you have to know that too?”
He had an inkling – a spark of hope, that maybe you had been falling just as fast and hard as he had – but hearing your unspoken way of saying it out loud meant more than he could even process. James’ eyes would fill with tears later that night, when he replays this entire conversation in his head over and over again. You feel it all the same.
And when he remembers how he touches you, and holds you, and whispers sweet secrets for your ears only, it makes him hate his family name even more. Why would the stars be so cruel and keep you from him all this time?
“No more talk now, let’s go back to dancing.” You say, after an hour of going back and forth with James on what the two of you will do tomorrow, and the day after that, and any time in the future he can make his way to you again. Satisfied knowing you’ll get to at least see him again, you’re longing to go back to being twirled around to the beautiful melodies of these foreign songs.
James had been absent-mindedly playing with the strands of your hair the entire time you two have been talking, and the way his fingers kept brushing your neck is making you itch to have his hands on you properly.
Frank Sinatra’s rendition of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ takes over the room, and other couples have made their way back to the dancefloor too. Before he places one hand on your waist, and takes the other to hold yours, extending them out for a tango-like premise, James presses a kiss to your forehead.
“James! People will see,” you whisper, heart spiking in fear, knowing that eyes are on you two again.
“Let them,” James says simply, placing another kiss on your left eyebrow, and then one on your right cheek – dangerously close to the end of your lips. If he dies tonight, at least he’ll die a satisfied man. “This is how I can tell the world I’m yours.”
Your body melts into his, like pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly, and the two of you are off again. Spinning around the lounge, and gliding across the room, his eyes never leaving yours for a second. You were here together now, and that’s all that needed to matter.
Against the disapproval of your families… of your friends… and of Shanghai, something beautiful is brewing in this helpless city of hatred. Something that you and James don’t dare to admit out loud, keeping these violent delights bubbling between the two of you instead.
And somehow, it’s the most pure and precious love these streets will ever come to see.
( #🫖’s note ) ROMEO SAVE ME THEY’RE TRYNNA TELL ME HOW TO FEEL!!!! THIS LOVE IS DIFFICULT BUT IT’S RE-ALLLLL!!!! what’s up chat 🔥 it has come to my attention that my new readers dont know i’m the biggest james girl to exist. makes sense because i write for martin the most but trust me when i tell you that that yufan guy is never not on my mind 😹 lord half my screentime is me js rewatching edits of him like 😹 if you made it this far… ☹️☹️ thank you so much for reading!! people on twt said that james in the dior suit didn’t hit but they don’t get the vision the way i do. that’s my romeo.
this was for my snoopy: hi queen i am So sorry this took me so long 😭😭 the original idea was following the lyrics of them having a dance and drink or two but i felt like it was a bit too basic 😣 decided to add to the lore to make it a bit more intriguing but now here we are 💀 cortis are sons of shanghai’s gangs in the 60s yasss ok!! 😄💯 lock this girl uppp 😄💯 so it’s a bit different, but i hope you liked it snoopy 😭🤞♥️♥️♥️♥️
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 keonho has taken a liking to the girl who works at the new local cafe and to no one’s surprise, he’s an absolute fool around her. after finding out that she’s attending james’ grad party, he finally has a reason to actually talk to her! how many shots will he take until he finally gives up? or until she gives in? 🤔
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 keonho (grounded) attempts to communicate with seonghyeon (not grounded) via student gmail. a few wrong numbers entered leads to him flirting with y/n (stranger) through an email thread! what could go wrong hahaha (a lot)
ᝰ.ᐟ nonidol!keonho x fem!reader | friendgroup!cortis | older brother!juhoon
ᝰ.ᐟ smau mini series! fluff, humor, cussing
ᝰ.ᐟ 01 02 03
ᝰ.ᐟ a/n: 🐻 FINAL PART YAY!!! this is mostly what their relationship is like after the Great Lock In of 2026 😳 … hence the little timeskip dividers😭 i hope ygs enjoyed!
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 yawnmi writes:
last part yay!! ty for all the love on this mini series it was super fun i hope ygs found it even a little bit funny 😅😅 anw stay tuned for more works and checkout my masterlist if ygs like the cortis smaus 👀👀👀👀
number neighbour ᰔ someone who has the exact same phone number as you, except for the very last digit, which is one number higher or lower than yours.
pt. 4
.✦ ݁˖ summary – you move to korea with your parents, abandoning everything you knew back home. the cultural shock makes it difficult for you to adjust, especially since you barely speak korean. apparently, most people mind their business here. you also don’t know much about kpop, nor kdrama, so finding like-minded people that way is also impossible. in search of comfort, or maybe even a friend, you decide to text both your number neighbours. they don’t reply after many texts, so you’d gotten into the habit of sending one of them to-do lists, grocery shopping lists, and random thoughts. but what happens when one neighbour replies, and the other starts to do the same?
⊹ ࣪ ˖꒰ঌ tags — ࿔ cortis smau, 09z, [idol]keonho & reader, [idol]seonghyeon & reader, [female][18]reader, i apologize as english is not my first language, crack, fluff, twins being twins, multiple parts, 25 slides
𑣲a/n. ouuu shii crazy development
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a couple days ago, after the ticket giveaway. keonho pov.
the cortis/coer youngkeukeu application form was cute, so i wanted to turn it into a fun little game (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)♡ i'm tagging all my mutuals (so i can know you all better), but no pressure if you don't wanna do it/don't follow cortis!
no pressure tags :: @kloversung @yawwni @us3rkilxz @channlust @ninisei @koiiq @b4echo & anyone else that wants to!
LOVE THIS OMG ITS SO CUTIEEE thank u koifish for da tag > < tags ( np ) @starriniqhts @tanghuyuj @candoiella @revrette @williamssbabydoll @ourhyeons @yyel1ah @twiishaa and anybody else who wants to join innnn
SYNOPSIS :: Following your campers locking you and Seonghyeon in a closet together, you try to pretend he doesn't exist, but Seonghyeon and your two cabins of relentless matchmakers have other plans.
W.C :: 4.6k
CONTAINS :: campcounselor!seonghyeon, a spinoff of mr and mrs camp counselor, the campers are menaces, stubborn reader, crack, fluff, angst if you squint, the love bomb, skinship, kissing
PLAYLIST :: Tongue tied - grouplove; It’s not living (if it’s not with you) - the 1975; Slide away - Oasis; You are the right one - Sports
It had been exactly one day since the storage closet incident that saw you and Seonghyeon finally confess that there was something between you both.
When the two of you were freed from the makeshift prison you had attempted to give the campers a thorough talking to. Really, you had.
You'd marched them all to the main lodge, mustered your most authoritative counselor voice, and launched into a speech about boundaries, respect, and the importance of not locking people in confined spaces.
They'd stood there in a ragged semicircle, faces arranged in expressions of performative contrition—and then one of them had pointed at your hair and whispered, "It's still there."
Another had started giggling, then another.
Within thirty seconds, the entire group had devolved into helpless laughter, tears streaming down their faces as they pointed at the glitter still stubbornly clinging to your part, your temples, the collar of your counselor polo, all the while you tried to maintain your composure.
Then you'd glanced at Seonghyeon, who had somehow gotten it worse: his entire left shoulder sparkled like a disco ball, and there was a particularly stubborn cluster of purple flakes stuck to his eyebrow, and you'd lost it too.
The "talking to" had devolved into all of you laughing so hard the camp director had come outside to check if someone was dying.
Safe to say, you deemed the whole thing a wash and the lecture was officially canceled. The campers had won yet again.
And so, in your own stubborn and unrelenting methods of punishment , you refused to allow the campers to see you interact with Seonghyeon at all in the hopes that eventually the campers would stop being so persistent.
It was petty, sure, but seeing their faces: the way their eyes would light up whenever you so much as glanced in his direction, and they'd scramble for that ridiculous notebook, then they'd start narrating your every move like you were characters in their personal drama—it all made you want to scream.
So you'd decided: no interaction, no eye contact, no accidental hand brushes, no standing within ten feet of each other. No anything that could be documented, analysed, or turned into another entry in Operation Summer Romance.
You were going to starve them of content.
It was a brilliant plan. Foolproof. Diabolical, even.
It lasted approximately one day before collapsing.
You had started the morning off strong, positioning yourself on the complete opposite end of the counselor’s dining table to Seonghyeon, as far away from him as physically possible.
The campers noticed immediately, and you watched their faces drop, eyes darting between the two of you.
"Why is she sitting so far away?"
"Is she... avoiding him?"
"Why would she avoid him? They were literally trapped in a closet together yesterday."
"Maybe she's embarrassed."
"Maybe he did something wrong."
"He wouldn't do anything wrong. He's perfect."
"Nobody's perfect."
"He is. He's perfect for her."
You stabbed your oatmeal with unnecessary force.
Seonghyeon, at the opposite end of the table, was pointedly not looking at you. You could tell he was trying not to look at you. His eyes kept drifting in your direction, then snapping away, like he was fighting a physical urge.
It was kind of adorable, but you weren't going to think about that.
The whispers continued as breakfast finished up, it was only natural for them to speculate anyways, they had quite literally witnessed you two fall into each other laughing upon your release from the closet. The sudden switch up from "they're obviously in love" to "she won't even look at him" was jarring, even for the most dedicated investigators, especially considering both you and Seonghyeon still had the remnants of glitter dusted across you, so what could have possibly happened in that short time period?
You could feel their confusion radiating from the other side of the dining hall like a physical force.
Eventually you pushed your bowl away, your oatmeal a lost cause.
Standing up, you collected your tray and turned to your campers, who were still huddled together, watching you with the intensity of hawk-eyed detectives.
"Clean up," you said firmly. "We have archery in twenty minutes. I don't want to hear any excuses about being late."
Your campers exchanged glances. They clearly wanted to ask more questions and demand answers, but something in your tone made them hold their tongues for now.
You walked toward the tray return, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead. You could feel Seonghyeon's eyes on you from across the room, the weight of his attention like a physical presence, warm and steady and impossible to ignore.
You didn't look back, you refused to.
That afternoon you were walking back from the archery range when you saw him coming the other way, flanked by his campers. The path was narrow, there was nowhere to go, and you were going to have to pass him.
You squared your shoulders and lifted your chin, prepared to walk past him like he was a stranger, a complete non-entity, someone you'd never met in your entire life—
"Counselor Y/N."
His voice stopped you in your tracks.
You turned to see his campers watching with barely contained glee. Your campers were watching from a distance, having somehow materialised out of thin air the moment they sensed an impending interaction.
"Yes?" You said, keeping your voice flat.
Seonghyeon smiled that soft, private smile that was only ever for you. "You have something in your hair."
"Really."
"Really."
"Let me guess, glitter?"
"Purple."
You reached up. Your fingers brushed against a cluster of stubborn sparkles still clinging to your part. You tried to pull them out, but they were completely stuck despite your insistence.
One of Seonghyeon’s campers squealed quietly, barely able to contain her excitement as she watched Seonghyeon’s smile turn even fonder than it already had been, "He's going to help her."
"He's going to touch her hair." Another responded, swinging the arm of the camper beside them in uncontrolled glee.
Seonghyeon stepped closer, his hand already reaching out towards you. "Do you want—"
"I've got it," you said quickly, far too quickly. "I'm fine. Thank you."
You turned and walked away, continuing your trek down towards the camp. Behind you, the campers gasped. "She walked away!"
"He looks so confused." Your camper whispered behind her hand, watching Seonghyeon carefully from a distance. The crowd of kids surrounded him like concerned bodyguards, all of them tracking his every micro-expression following the... rejection, if you could even call it that.
"He looks hurt."
"She hurt his feelings."
One of the younger campers pouted dramatically, her lower lip wobbling as if she'd personally been rejected. "Why would she do that? They were so happy yesterday."
"Maybe she's playing hard to get."
"What do we do? We can’t let this stand." Seonghyeon’s camper declared, shaking his head dramatically.
"We'll fix it, somehow."
“How???”
What every single one of them failed to notice, in their mass whispers of shock and concern, was the smirk that now rested on Seonghyeon's lips as he watched you go.
He had worked out almost immediately what you were doing. The moment you'd sat at the opposite end of the breakfast table, refused to make eye contact, and now walked away from him on the path—he'd seen right through it.
You weren't rejecting him.
You were testing him, or rather, you were testing yourself. You were trying to prove that you could resist him, that you could keep things professional, that the campers hadn't already won.
It was absolutely adorable, and also completely, utterly futile.
He watched you disappear around the bend, your shoulders still squared with your chin still lifted and your hair still glittering with purple sparkles that caught the afternoon light like tiny stars. You were trying so hard to be strong, distant, and untouchable.
But he knew you.
He'd known you for three summers. He'd watched you comfort homesick campers at midnight and laugh so hard at a camper's joke that you'd snorted juice out of your nose.
He'd even watched you fall in love with him—just as he'd fallen in love with you.
This little performance of yours wasn't going to last, he'd make sure of it.
"You know," he said, not turning around to face his campers, "she's very stubborn."
"Yeah, we noticed."
"She's SOOOOO stubborn."
"Stubborn enough to walk away from true love."
Seonghyeon chuckled. "She's also very determined. Once she decides on something, she doesn't give up easily."
"Is that supposed to be a good thing?"
"It is when she's determined about the right things." A camper pointed out.
"And right now, she's determined about the wrong thing."
"Don't worry," Seonghyeon said, finally turning to face his campers. His smirk had softened into something warmer and more certain. "She'll come around."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know her." He tucked his hands into his pockets, already planning his next move. "And because I'm very, very patient."
"Patient for what?"
"For her."
The campers exchanged glances. Then, slowly, their expressions shifted from despair to hope, realising they had maybe underestimated their counselor.
That evening, you found yourself back in the boys' cabin.
It wasn't by choice, exactly. The glitter situation in the storage closet had become a genuine hazard—campers were tracking purple sparkles everywhere, and you'd drawn the short straw when it came to cleanup duty. So there you were, knee-deep in craft supplies, trying to contain the chaos that your campers had unleashed.
The irony was not lost on you.
You were just reaching for a particularly stubborn cluster of glitter that had somehow migrated to the ceiling when you heard footsteps behind you: the soft tread of sneakers on wooden floorboards that were familiar and unmistakable.
"I'm not talking to you," you said without turning around.
"I didn't say anything," Seonghyeon replied.
"Your presence is saying plenty."
"My presence?"
"Yes. It's very... present."
He laughed warmly, making your stomach flip. You'd heard that laugh a hundred times before, but somehow it still managed to catch you off guard and make your heart do that annoying little skip it had been doing for three summers now.
You refused to acknowledge it.
"I was just passing by," he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "I didn't realise you'd be in here."
"Liar."
"Excuse me?"
"You're a terrible liar, Seonghyeon. You always have been." You finally turned to face him, still holding the glitter container like a shield. "You knew I'd be here. One of your campers told you, didn't they?"
He had the decency to look slightly caught out. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck—a nervous habit you'd noticed years ago, one that he only ever did around you.
"Maybe," he admitted.
"Maybe?"
"Okay, yes. Jungwoo mentioned it during free period. He said you were 'on a glitter crusade' and that I should 'seize the opportunity.'"
You pinched the bridge of your nose. "They're coaching you now?"
"They're very invested."
"They're meddling."
"They prefer the term 'facilitating.'"
"Seonghyeon."
"Y/N."
You stared at each other across the small cabin. The evening light slanted through the windows, catching the glitter dust still floating in the air like tiny purple stars. Somewhere outside, a bird sang. Somewhere further away, campers shouted and laughed and continued their endless chaos.
But in here, it was just the two of you.
"I'm doing this for a reason," you said.
"Which is?"
"The campers. They're watching us all the time, and if we give them any more material, they're going to—" You gestured vaguely. "—do something. I don't know what. Something worse than the closet."
"Worse than the closet?"
"Yes. They're creative and unhinged. They have that stupid notebook, for god’s sake."
Seonghyeon took a step toward you. "So your solution is to pretend I don't exist?"
"It's a temporary measure."
"For how long?"
"Until they lose interest."
He raised an eyebrow. "They're not going to lose interest."
"They will eventually."
"Y/N. They've been watching us for weeks. They locked us in a closet. They have a Venn diagram." He stopped in front of you, close enough that you could see the flecks of colour in his eyes. "They're not losing interest."
You swallowed. "So what do you suggest?"
He reached up, very slowly, very deliberately, and brushed a cluster of purple glitter from your hair, his fingers lingering against your temple. "I suggest we stop pretending," he said quietly. "They already know. Everyone already knows. The only people who don't seem to know are us."
The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning.
You opened your mouth to respond, deflect, argue, do anything other than admit that he was right, and then you heard it.
A soft gasp from behind you. Barely audible, but unmistakable.
Your eyes widened. You started to turn to see who was there and had been watching, ready to question how long they'd been listening—
But Seonghyeon's hands were suddenly on your cheeks, cupping your face, gently but firmly holding you still. His thumbs brushed across your cheekbones, warm and steady, and his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.
"Don't turn around," he murmured.
"Seonghyeon."
"Don't."
"Seonghyeon, I—"
"Just look at me." His voice was soft, almost pleading. "Please. Just look at me."
You wanted to argue and pull away to see who was at the window and put an end to whatever scheme the campers had cooked up this time.
But his hands were so warm, his eyes were so steady, and the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world, like nothing else mattered, like the campers could be watching or not and it wouldn't change a single thing—made it impossible to move.
"Seonghyeon," you said again, and this time your voice came out as a warning, low and threatening. The kind of voice you used when campers were about to do something stupid.
He just tilted his head, his expression entirely innocent. His eyelashes fluttered and he smiled so softly you felt your heart clench.
"Yes?" He asked, his voice dripping with false sweetness.
You stared at him and he stared back, completely unrepentant.
Despite everything surrounding you at this moment, you felt the fight drain out of you.
You sighed, a long, defeated exhale that seemed to come from somewhere deep in your soul. "You're impossible," you said.
"I know."
"This is exactly what they want."
"I know."
"And you're just... going to give it to them?"
He smiled, his thumbs still stroking your cheeks. "I'm not doing it for them," he said quietly. "I'm doing it for us."
Your heart stuttered in your chest. "Seonghyeon..."
"Y/N." His forehead touched yours. "I've been waiting for three summers. I've been patient. I've been professional. I've been careful." He let out a soft breath. "I'm tired of being careful."
"You're tired of being careful?"
"I'm tired of pretending I don't want to kiss you every time you laugh at one of my jokes, and watching you walk away and not following. I'm tired of—" He stopped, his voice catching slightly. "I'm tired of loving you from a distance."
Your breath caught. "Seonghyeon..."
"I know the campers are watching." His voice was barely a whisper now. "I know they're going to make this into a whole thing and we're never going to hear the end of it." He smiled, soft and warm. "But I don't care."
"They’re going to actually plan our wedding."
"I figured."
"Seonghyeon."
"Y/N."
He was so close. His hands were on your face, his forehead was against yours, and somewhere behind you, through the window, a dozen campers were watching with bated breath.
But in this moment none of it mattered.
"You're not worried?" You whispered.
"Not even a little," he whispered back, his lips curving into a smile.
And then, before you could overthink it, you surged forward and kissed him.
His lips were warm, slightly chapped from the summer sun, the way they always were this time of year, and you'd noticed that detail a hundred times before without ever admitting it to yourself. You'd noticed the way he bit his lower lip when he was thinking, the way he licked them before he smiled, the way they curved around words that made you laugh.
But you'd never let yourself imagine what they'd feel like against yours.
Now you knew.
His hands were still cupping your face, and as you kissed him, his thumbs traced slow, reverent circles across your cheekbones. The gesture was so tender, so careful, that it made your chest ache with something you couldn't quite name.
You felt his breath hitch against your lips—a soft, surprised sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest. His hands then slid from your cheeks into your hair, fingers threading through the strands, pulling you closer, deeper, like he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life.
Which, you realised with a jolt, he had.
Three summers. Three years of stolen glances and accidental touches and breakfast cleanup shifts, three years of watching you from across the dining hall, of finding excuses to be near you, of loving you from a distance.
And now, finally, finally, you were here.
The kiss deepened, and you felt his body press against yours—warm and solid and real. His chest against your chest, his hands in your hair, his lips moving against yours with a slowness that felt almost deliberate.
You reached up, your fingers finding the collar of his counselor polo. You tugged him closer, and he made a soft sound against your lips—a sound that was half laugh, half sigh, entirely content.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed, his lips parted slightly.
"Y/N," he whispered, and your name sounded softer on his lips now.
"I'm here," you whispered back.
He opened his eyes. They were bright, warm, filled with something that made your heart stutter in your chest. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he said.
"I know."
"You know?"
"You signed up for breakfast cleanup on your off days for three summers, Seonghyeon. I wasn't oblivious." You smiled, your fingers still tangled in his collar. "I was just..."
"Scared?"
"Patient."
"You're not patient. You're stubborn."
"Same thing."
He laughed and pressed his forehead more firmly against yours. "I love you," he said quietly. "I've loved you for three summers, and I'm tired of pretending I don't."
"I know."
"Say it back."
"Seonghyeon."
"Say it back," he repeated, and his voice was soft but insistent. "Please."
You looked at him, seeing his warm eyes and his soft smile and the single purple glitter flake still clinging to his eyebrow. He was the man who had been waiting for you for three summers, who had signed up for shifts he didn't need and duties he didn't want, who had loved you from a distance and never once given up.
"I love you too," you said.
His smile was the brightest thing you'd ever seen. "Say it again."
"I love you too."
"Again."
"Seonghyeon."
"Again."
You laughed, pulling him closer. "I love you. I love you. I love you." You pressed a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, then the corner of his mouth. "Is that enough?"
"Not even close," he murmured, and then he was kissing you again: deeper this time, slower, like he had all the time in the world.
Behind you, the campers erupted.
“THEY’RE KISSING!!!” One shouted as the two campers beside her screamed and covered their eyes, trying to erase the sight from their memories.
“WE DID IT!”
“OPERATION SUMMER ROMANCE IS COMPLETE!”
You felt Seonghyeon smile into the kiss as the campers voices filtered in through the cracks of the window, the sun shhining bright onto the grounds. Maybe it was time to give in and accept that the campers were victorious, though if it meant you got to kiss Seonghyeon more often, you weren’t going to complain.
EXTRA ::
The sun hung low and golden over the lake, casting long shadows across the water as the final afternoon of camp drew to a close. The air was thick with the scent of pine and sunscreen and the bittersweet weight of endings. Summer was almost over, the campers would leave tomorrow, the cabins would empty, the laughter would fade into memory.
But not yet. Not quite yet.
You stood at the edge of the dock, the wooden boards warm beneath your bare feet. The water lapped gently against the pilings, a soft, rhythmic sound that seemed to echo the beating of your heart. Beside you, Seonghyeon's hand was warm in yours, his fingers laced through yours like they'd always been there.
The campers were gathered on the shore, a chaotic cluster of cabin shirts and sunburned noses and glitter-covered notebooks. They'd been watching you both all week—following you around like ducklings, documenting your every interaction, adding to their ever-growing collection of evidence that you were now, officially, a couple.
"Are you ready?" Seonghyeon asked softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the campers' chatter.
You turned to look at him. The golden light caught the edges of his face, illuminating the warmth in his eyes, the soft curve of his smile. "Ready for what?" You asked, though you already knew.
He smiled gently. "To make a memory."
Your heart swelled in your chest. "I've already made enough memories with you to last a lifetime."
"Then make one more."
The campers on shore were growing restless. You could hear their whispers and excited murmurs. "They're holding hands."
"They're always holding hands now."
"It's so romantic."
"It's so gross."
"Shush!! It’s beautiful."
You laughed, the sound bright and unguarded. Seonghyeon's hand squeezed yours, and you turned to face him fully. "Together?" You asked.
"Together," he confirmed.
And then you jumped.
The water was cold and shocking and perfect. It closed over your heads like a curtain, muffling the sounds of the world above. For a moment, there was nothing but the weight of the water around you, the pressure of Seonghyeon's hand still gripping yours, the strange, suspended feeling of falling without falling.
You then kicked upward, breaking the surface with a gasp.
The air was warm against your wet skin. The sun was bright in your eyes. The campers were screaming from the shore, their voices a chaotic chorus of excitement and disbelief.
But you barely heard them because Seonghyeon was there, treading water beside you, his hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes bright and laughing. Water droplets clung to his lashes like tiny diamonds and his smile was the widest you'd ever seen it.
"You're crazy," you said, laughing.
"You're the one who jumped with me."
"I didn't say I wasn't crazy too."
He laughed heartily and pulled you closer. His hands found your waist beneath the water, steadying you, anchoring you to him. "I love you," he said, and the words came easy now, as natural as breathing.
You smiled, water dripping from your chin. "I love you too."
He kissed you.
His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, and you felt your feet leave the bottom of the lake. You floated together, suspended in the golden water, the world reduced to the warmth of his lips and the steady beat of his heart against yours.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed.
"Best summer ever," he murmured.
"Best summer ever," you agreed.
From the shore, the campers had lost their collective minds.
"THEY KISSED IN THE WATER!"
"THAT WAS SO ROMANTIC!"
"WE DID THIS! WE'RE MATCHMAKING GENIUSES!"
"WE'RE LEGENDS!"
Then, without warning, the first camper jumped.
A splash followed by a shriek and a burst of laughter, then another, and another.
Within seconds, the air was filled with flying bodies and screaming children and the unmistakable chaos of two cabins' worth of campers launching themselves into the lake with absolutely no regard for safety or dignity or the fact that they were all still wearing their clothes.
"CANNONBALL!" One shouted before they hit the water, you quickly turned your face away to avoid the spray of water from hitting your eye.
You watched in horror and delight as the chaos unfolded around you. Campers splashed and shrieked and laughed, their voices echoing across the lake like the sound of pure, unfiltered joy.
And then, as the realisation hit you—
"WHERE ARE YOUR LIFE JACKETS?!" You shouted, your counselor instincts overriding everything else.
A camper paddled past you, grinning. "Relax, Counselor! We're in the shallow end!"
"The shallow end is still deep enough to drown!"
"We're fine!"
"You're not fine! You're going to drown!"
"I can swim!"
"That’s not the point!"
Seonghyeon laughed beside you, his arm still wrapped around your waist. "They're not going to listen."
"Seonghyeon."
"Just let them have this."
"Someone's going to injure themself!"
"Well at least they would be having fun whilst doing so."
You turned to stare at him. "Did you just joke about campers getting injured?"
He grinned, water still dripping from his chin. "I'm very funny."
You splashed him in response.
The water caught him square in the face, and his head snapped back with a startled laugh. For a moment, he just froze: jaw dropped, eyes wide, water streaming down his cheeks like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
Then he turned to you, and his grin turned wicked. "Oh, it's on."
Before you could react, his hand came down in a sweeping arc, sending a wall of water directly into your face. You sputtered, gasping, as the lake water invaded your mouth and nose.
It quickly devolved into the two of you splashing water at each other relentlessly, wide grins on both your faces: your hands churning the surface into a frenzy, his laughter echoing across the lake as he dodged and retaliated. Water flew in every direction, catching the golden sunlight like scattered diamonds.
One of your campers shouted: "WATER FIGHT!"
It then became an all-out war. A free-for-all, even.
Campers descended from every direction, shrieking and laughing, their bodies cutting through the water like torpedoes. You couldn't tell who was an ally or an enemy anymore—only that you were aiming to stop swallowing so much water. Hands splashed from every angle, faces appeared and disappeared in the chaos, the lake had become a battlefield of pure, unfiltered joy.
You spun in circles, trying to defend yourself, but it was hopeless. There were too many of them and they were everywhere: behind you, beside you, in front of you. Water filled your eyes, your nose, your mouth. You were laughing so hard you could barely breathe.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, you caught a glimpse of Seonghyeon. He was surrounded by at least five campers, all of them splashing him relentlessly, and he was laughing so brightly his cheeks were turning red. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his shirt clung to his chest, and you realised truly that you'd never loved him more.
The sun shone brightly above, its rays gleaming against the rocking water. The lake sparkled like a sea of scattered stars, each ripple catching the light and throwing it back toward the sky. The air was warm and sweet with the scent of summer. The sounds of laughter and splashing echoed across the water like music.
In the middle of it all, surrounded by chaos and campers and the golden light of the setting sun, you found yourself thinking that this was it. This was the moment you'd remember forever.
The summer you fell in love.
The summer the campers won.
The summer that changed everything for the better.
synopsis ⋮ ⌗ ┆y/n and her friends are going to the KNUE university festival, like all other students in their top grade university are. The ever so trending group CORTIS are the 5th in the performance line-up. Like any other person around her, she goes all out in the dancing and screaming along. Having fun is good, but having so much fun that you drop your coolest shades ? How will she get them back? Actually—Does she even get them back?
pairing ⋮ ⌗ ┆idol!martin x f!reader ⟡
others ⋮ ⌗ ┆cortis cameo & kya, ye-on, woojin, dohoon, tina cameo , Mentions of ENHYPEN ⟡
author's note ⋮ ⌗ ┆my first smau guys pls bear w me🪽
Also like, I’ll post the twt accs + chat in the cortis gc before the concert tmr
synopsis ⋮ ⌗ ┆y/n and her friends are going to the KNUE university festival, like all other students in their top grade university are. The ever so trending group CORTIS are the 5th in the performance line-up. Like any other person around her, she goes all out in the dancing and screaming along. Having fun is good, but having so much fun that you drop your coolest shades ? How will she get them back? Actually—Does she even get them back?
pairing ⋮ ⌗ ┆idol!martin x f!reader ⟡
others ⋮ ⌗ ┆cortis cameo & kya, ye-on, woojin, dohoon, tina cameo , Mentions of ENHYPEN ⟡
author's note ⋮ ⌗ ┆my first smau guys pls bear w me🪽
Also like, I’ll post the twt accs + chat in the cortis gc before the concert tmr
synopsis ⋮ ⌗ ┆y/n and her friends are going to the KNUE university festival, like all other students in their top grade university are. The ever so trending group CORTIS are the 5th in the performance line-up. Like any other person around her, she goes all out in the dancing and screaming along. Having fun is good, but having so much fun that you drop your coolest shades ? How will she get them back? Actually—Does she even get them back?
pairing ⋮ ⌗ ┆idol!martin x f!reader ⟡
others ⋮ ⌗ ┆cortis cameo & kya, ye-on, woojin, dohoon, tina cameo , Mentions of ENHYPEN ⟡
author's note ⋮ ⌗ ┆my first smau guys pls bear w me🪽
Also like, I’ll post the twt accs + chat in the cortis gc before the concert tmr
synopsis ⋮ ⌗ ┆y/n and her friends are going to the KNUE university festival, like all other students in their top grade university are. The ever so trending group CORTIS are the 5th in the performance line-up. Like any other person around her, she goes all out in the dancing and screaming along. Having fun is good, but having so much fun that you drop your coolest shades ? How will she get them back? Actually—Does she even get them back?
pairing ⋮ ⌗ ┆idol!martin x f!reader ⟡
others ⋮ ⌗ ┆cortis cameo & kya, ye-on, woojin, dohoon, tina cameo , Mentions of ENHYPEN ⟡
author's note ⋮ ⌗ ┆my first smau guys pls bear w me🪽
Also like, I’ll post the twt accs + chat in the cortis gc before the concert tmr
pixelskylines
stormborns
baratheonpilled
theartofmadeline
titsay
