I remember I tried seven star cigs in Japan and I hated them… I had to chew fruity gum after to refresh my palate (I still smoked it… a cig is a cig)
But guys don’t smoke seven stars if you don’t like breathing in charcoal idk what i expected… it literally says charcoal filter
menthol cigs on top
Also hi it’s nana
- @bananagirl222
i dont even smoke and shit i js know what that is cus of nana all hail ren i love u ren, ren do u see this???? im sobbing charcoal filters SOUND LIKE they taste horrid 💔💔💔💔
gahdamn now i know ren prolly smelled like a fucking construction site geeezzzz also do menthol cigs not js taste like gumm????? 🤔
🦢 i dont really want to compromise our friendship, but i got a thing for you, yeah,, friend!juhoon x f!reader, friends that kiss, making out, clingy juhoon, juhoons tipsy, lowercase intended, profanity, fluff, neck kisses (once), 2k~
syn: your friend juhoon just cant stop kissing you. news flash! you dont want him to stop. the lines dont have to blur, right? you guys are going to stay friends, right?
listen to: lowkey by rochelle jordan
james was halfway off the couch, arguing with martin about something neither of them seemed especially invested in proving. seonghyeon had surrendered entirely to scrolling through his phone, occasionally contributing a sentence just often enough to keep james from claiming victory by default. iroha had curled herself into the corner cushion beneath a throw blanket she'd stolen from somewhere after complaining about how loud the party was, and keonho was in the kitchen, quietly rescuing another round of drinks before someone inevitably dropped one.
you sat somewhere in the middle of it, one cross legged, listening more than speaking. the conversation moved around you the way it always did with this group—overlapping, interrupting itself, picking up threads from half an hour ago without anyone needing to explain how they'd gotten there.
juhoon stepped inside carrying a plastic convenience store bag, the green glass bottles inside knocking gently against one another as he crossed the room. his cheeks were faintly pink beneath the warm apartment lights, the flush high enough to suggest someone had already convinced him to drink before he got here. not drunk. just ‘tipsy’.
he dropped the bag onto the coffee table. "i brought more."
james let out an approving noise. "finally."
a few hands immediately reached for the bottles.
juhoon didn't. instead, he looked at you. you noticed because you always did. he crossed the last few steps between you without much urgency and reached out, fingertips brushing lightly against your shoulder until you looked up from your phone. "i need your help."
you blinked. "with what?"
he tilted his head toward the hallway. "come with me?"
there wasn't anything unusual about the request. not to anyone else. martin glanced over from the opposite couch. "you need another person?"
"nah," juhoon answered easily. "we're good."
martin nodded once and reached for another bottle, already distracted again. that was all. nobody questioned it, why would they?
objectively, you and juhoon were friends. there were years of evidence supporting that conclusion. shared classes, same friend group, shared habits accumulated so gradually that no one remembered when they'd started. if one of you disappeared for ten minutes, the assumption was almost always that the other had dragged them into some entirely ordinary errand.
subjectively...subjectively was less cooperative. subjectively, friends probably didn't kiss each other often enough to develop an unspoken system for it. they probably didn't understand the difference between looking and asking. they probably didn't know exactly how long the other would hesitate before saying yes.
fortunately for both of you, those were details no one else had reason to notice.
you stood. "i'll be back."
james lifted a hand dismissing you both without looking up from whatever keonho had just said. the conversation continued itself almost immediately, filling the space you'd vacated. there were enough people there for anyone to notice your absence unless informed.
from the living room, a broad hallway stretched deeper into the first floor. the staircase waited at the very end, sweeping upward toward the second floor before disappearing around the landing. juhoon started walking without checking whether you were behind him.
you followed a pace later.
the music dulled with every step. by the time you'd reached the hallway, the party no longer felt like something you were inside. only something happening in the background.
you opened your mouth. "so...what exactly—"
his hand found your wrist. the interruption was so immediate that the rest of the sentence never made it out. his fingers curled lightly around you with the absent certainty of habit, already guiding you up the staircase before either of you seemed to register what he'd done.
you looked down.
then at him.
juhoon didn't notice.
or perhaps he did, somewhere beneath the pleasant haze of alcohol, because his pace slowed just enough for you to keep beside him without needing to tug against his grip. it wasn't until the foot of the staircase that he glanced back. his eyes dropped automatically to where his hand rested around your wrist. "oh."
there was no embarrassment in his voice. only mild surprise, as though he'd discovered himself halfway through an unconscious decision. for a second, you thought he'd let go. instead, his thumb shifted almost imperceptibly against your skin. "c'mon," he murmured.
juhoon led you further down the corridor of the first floor. pulling you into a vacant room. it looked like a guest room that hadn't been used in some time. a neatly made bed. curtains left half-open. the moonlight being the only source of light in the dark room.
the door clicked shut behind you.
you turned towards him, "you needed help?"
his arms slipped around your waist with an ease that suggested he'd forgotten to think before acting, and a second later his forehead found the crook of your neck. he let out a long and dramatic sigh, his weight settled against you. you could feel his breaths against your skin, his lashes grazing your skin every time he blinked.
your hands tangled themselves in his hair, before you realised it you were absentmindedly running your hands on his back. "what’s wrong?"
he hummed still nuzzled in your neck, the vibrations running down your neck.
"drunk?"
he giggled, "a little?"
"you dragged me upstairs because you’re a little drunk?"
he answered by shaking his head, slow enough that the movement brushed the tip of his nose against your skin before he finally pulled away. the absence of his warmth settled over you almost immediately. for the first time since he'd tugged you upstairs, there was enough space between you for you to properly look at him.
his cheeks were still faintly flushed. a few strands of dark hair had escaped beneath your fingers, falling untidily across his forehead. his eyes met yours. his eyes were blown out.
yup, he’s drunk.
he stared at you for a second, as if he was trying to memorise your face. then, without saying a word, he lifted both hands. his palms settled lightly against your cheeks. you startled not because of the touch itself, but because of the contrast. "your hands are freezing."
his thumb slowly caressed your cheek. "don’t want me near you?"
you laughed softly, "i didn’t say that."
"deal with me then." his voice was raspier than usual. he bent down slightly, one of his hands slipped away from your face disappearing into your hair instead. he gently laced his hands in your hair, making sure not to pull it. his cheek rested atop of your head.
"changed your shampoo?"
you hummed in response as your hands, left with nothing better to do, drifted almost unconsciously to the chain resting against his collarbone. your fingers rolled the small pendant back and forth, the cool metal catching between your fingertips as silence settled comfortably around the two of you.
after a while, he lifted his head from where it'd been resting against yours. the sudden absence of the weight was almost enough to make you look up. his hand remained buried in your hair, fingers still loosely threaded through the strands as though he'd forgotten they were there. with the smallest tug, he drew you a slight bit closer.
he tilted his head. his gaze found yours almost immediately. there it was again. that look. his eyes were still soft from the alcohol, heavy-lidded, carrying the kind of request he never seemed capable of putting into words. he wasn't asking out loud.
he never had to.
you held his gaze for another second before letting out the quietest sigh. "you're unbelievable." you rolled your eyes, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you almost immediately.
he smiled.
the sight of it made your own resolve crumble far faster than you cared to admit. he leaned in slowly, leaving more than enough time for you to stop him if you'd wanted to.
you didn't.
his forehead brushed yours first. then the tip of his nose. his fingers slipped a little further into your hair as he closed the last few inches between you, his lips meeting yours. his other hand met your hips as stepped closer. Your back was pressed into the hallway wall as tispy giggles escaped juhoons lips.
you pulled away slightly, “what?”
“you’re so fucking cute,” he connected his lips to yours again for a brief second before pulling back. he kissed the corner of your mouth, slowly making his way to your neck leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw.
“jju, no.” you whined, gripping his shirt.
his glossy eyes met yours as he kissed you again, hands cradling your lower back. his lips moved against yours as if he was trying to memorise you. You hum into his mouth, “what’s with you today?”
“hmm,” was the only thing leaving his mouth before his mouth brushed yours again. his thumb stroking your jaw. his hands leave your lower back making way to cup your cheeks again. your hands slowly let go off the scrunched material, pushing juhoon away. he only fought back by trying to pull you closer.
he failed.
you pull away breathing heavily. “are you trying to kill me?”
he let out a long, dramatic groan, his forehead falling briefly against your shoulder before he looked at you again. "stop pulling away."
you laughed, giving him another gentle push that he very obviously disagreed with. "juhoon."
"what?"
"i can't breathe here."
he frowned. "i don't care."
You roll your eyes at him again. "yeah, i noticed."
"i missed you." the words left him so easily that you almost forgot to respond. his brows pinched together as he looked at you, genuinely aggrieved. "you were with them the whole time."
you blinked. "juhoon."
"what about me?"
"you were buying drinks."
a pout reached his lips. "i still missed you." you stared at him for a second before letting out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "i even hit pregame before i came inside."
your eyes narrowed. "you what?"
"had to prepare."
"for?"
"seeing you talk to guys that aren’t me." there wasn't an ounce of embarrassment in his voice. if anything, he looked entirely convinced that made perfect sense. you rolled your eyes so hard they almost hurt. "you're unbelievable."
he smiled. "that's what you said earlier."
"because it's still true."
you reached up, smoothing the front of his shirt where your hands had left it slightly wrinkled. "i'm going downstairs."
his smile disappeared. "Already?"
"yeah."
he sighed. "a few more minutes."
"juhoon."
"one."
you shook your head. "you can come down five minutes later."
his face scrunched immediately. "Five?"
"yes, five." he looked offended by the number. "if anyone asks," you continued, fixing the chain around his neck where you'd been absentmindedly fiddling with it, "some girl was throwing up. we got distracted trying to find her friends so they could take care of her."
he watched you quietly. "Okay?" another pause. "one more kiss?"
you snickered. "nope."
"please?"
"if we're gone any longer, they're going to start wondering."
"let them."
the answer came so quickly you couldn't help smiling. you reached up, brushing the hair away from his forehead one last time. "you're drunk."
"so?"
"so i'm not taking your words at face value."
his lips parted as though he wanted to argue. instead, he settled for the most exaggerated pout you'd ever seen. you cupped his face, getting on your tippy toes to peck the corner of his mouth. "five minutes." you finalised, walking away.
he mumbled something under his breath.
you turned towards him. "what was that?"
"meanie."
your laugh slipped out before you could stop it. you opened the door, glancing back just once more. he was still standing exactly where you'd left him, watching you with the expression of a child whose ice cream was stolen.
"don't come down early," you warned.
he sighed dramatically. "whatever."
you gave him one last amused smile before slipping out into the hallway. the door clicked shut. not even three seconds passed before his muffled voice came through the wood. "this is a really long five minutes."
iro's notes: writing ts was so fun. omg the whole idea of WHATEVER THIS IS has been on my mind 4 so long, all hail rochelle jordan and this fire fucking song like OKAY BARS. also ref'd blue spring ride and hair sniffinf THAT ONE TRAIN SCENE AFTER KOU STEPPED OUT FOR HER EUGHHH
make out in your mustang, to radiohead
—ahn keonho
🌊 ex!keonho x f!reader, keonho's rich af, angst, fluff, profanity, crack, underaged drinking (loads), making out, sort of aged up? (both are 18 as the setting is the end of highschool), miscommunication, nostalgia, yearning.
w.c: 5.4k~
syn: legendary lovers. that's what you and keonho were.
playlist: the one that got away by katy perry / stereo love by edward maya / an eater by matt martians / love songs by kaash paige / talk show host by radiohead / i love you so by the walters
iro's notes: this was in my drafts for so long, it was supposed to be 30k but i just couldnt wrap my head around it so heres a smaller version </3
The beach house hadn't changed a bit in the two years you'd been gone.
The music was still deafening. The ocean still lapped lazily against the shore. Somewhere between the kitchen island lined with vodka bottles and the crowded living room, everyone had somehow slipped back into the people they used to be.
High school was over.
Before everyone scattered down different paths, one last reunion was inevitable. And what better place to hold it than Keonho's beach house? Everyone knew he came from money—might as well take advantage of it.
The last two years had been anything but easy. Moving away for the last two years of high school, hours from the people you'd grown up with, left an ache that never really went away. FaceTime calls became late-night messages. Weekend hangouts turned into holiday visits. Somehow, despite everything, the six of you never stopped being friends.
Distance had changed a lot, just not everything. Some conversations never happened. Some feelings never found the right time. It was easier to laugh with everyone else than to sit down and unpack what had already been left behind.
So you didn't say anything and neither did he. It worked at least, well enough.
Until tonight.
You were sprawled out by the pool, drink in hand, completely invested in whatever ridiculous story Martin was telling. Iroha was laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink into the water, Wonhee was busy arguing that she'd done absolutely nothing wrong, and Minju kept chiming in, adding fuel to the fire.
Everyone had grown up.
Martin had somehow become tall enough that you had to tip your head back to look at him now. You weren't entirely sure when that had happened. The last time you'd really noticed, you'd both still been borrowing each other's hoodies because they fit exactly the same. Iroha looked like she'd grown into herself in a way that only seemed unfair to everyone else, all effortless confidence and silver rings. Wonhee still talked with her hands, still interrupted herself halfway through every story, only louder now. Minju hadn't changed much at all. You were strangely grateful for that.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Probably the alcohol. Either way, you weren't complaining. "You are actually the biggest liar I've ever met," you laughed, nudging Martin's shoulder.
"Oh, come on. I swear it happened exactly like that."
"It literally did," Iroha cut in. "You were thirteen calling the math teacher ‘mom’"
The group erupted into laughter again. You barely noticed Keonho approaching until Martin's attention shifted over your shoulder. Keonho wandered over from the patio, a couple of vodka bottles balanced effortlessly in one hand. He'd just dropped the rest off to James and Juhoon, who were already arguing over who'd claimed which bottle.
"You're all alcoholics," he muttered, shaking his head.
"Says the guy supplying us," Martin shot back.
"Difference is," Keonho shrugged, "I'm generous."
"Rich," Wonhee corrected.
"Generous."
"Rich."
He rolled his eyes, setting the remaining bottles down beside the chairs before dropping into the empty seat at the edge of the circle like he'd always belonged there.
No one acknowledged the shift. Martin had already started talking over everyone again before Keonho had fully sat down. Iroha reached across Wonhee to steal her drink, immediately got caught by Minju, and denied it despite being caught quite literally red-handed. Martin laughed. Wonhee complained. Minju looked unbearably pleased with herself.
The conversation never stopped to make room for Keonho.
It never had to.
You looked at him because, eventually, you always did. He happened to look up at the same moment. It lasted all of two seconds, maybe less. But just enough to recognize each other, just enough to remember. Then Martin was calling your name, everyone was laughing again, and whatever had settled between the two of you dissolved back into the noise.
It dissolved as quickly as it came. Like it always did.
You and Keonho had become strangely good at this. There'd never been a conversation where either of you suggested staying friends, never a mutual agreement that things would work because they had to. You just kept showing up, twice a year you would take a flight back over the weekend. Be it for occasional hangouts squeezed in-between everyone's impossible schedule or for someone's birthday, but you always showed up. Somewhere along the way, pretending things were normal stopped feeling like pretending at all. Maybe that was because neither of you wanted to make everyone else choose. Maybe it was because the six of you had spent too much of your lives growing up together to imagine losing more than you already had. Either way, it worked. Not perfectly. But well enough.
The relationship itself hadn't lasted very long. Six months. Objectively, that wasn't much. People had relationships that lasted years before they fell apart. People built entire lives together before deciding they couldn't anymore. Six months shouldn't have been enough to leave a mark this deep.
And yet, you'd never really understood why people measured love in time.
Six months had been enough to learn the quiet parts of him. The version of Keonho that rubbed sleep from his eyes before saying good morning. The one who'd silently swap drinks with you whenever you'd accidentally ordered something too sweet. The way he'd always reach for your hand without looking first, already certain it'd be there. Somewhere between all of that, talking to him had stopped feeling like conversation. There was no effort to it. No rehearsing your thoughts or explaining why something mattered. You'd simply think it, and somehow he'd already be there.
Everything with him had always been easy.
Which was probably why the ending felt so ordinary.
No screaming, no betrayal, no fight that neither of you could come back from.
Just two people sitting in his car after school, windows rolled down, the spring air drifting through the silence you'd never struggled with before. "I'm moving." You remembered him blinking at you, waiting for the rest of the sentence. Waiting for the joke. Waiting for you to smile at him and say got you.
You never did. "My dad got transferred," you’d said instead, staring straight through the windshield. "We're leaving after sophomore year."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, it was unfamiliar. Because for the first time since you'd known him, neither of you had known what to say. Maybe that had been the problem all along.
Just two people who'd mistaken silence for understanding.
"Beer pong!" The shout cut clean through the memory.
It was followed by another, then another, until the living room dissolved into overlapping voices, the scrape of chairs against hardwood, and Martin loudly insisting that this time he was going to win ‘through sheer athleticism.’
"You don't have athleticism," Iroha called back.
"I have spirit."
The conversation around the pool unraveled almost instinctively. Wonhee was already standing, laughing into her drink before she'd even finished it. Minju sighed the kind of sigh reserved for people she'd known far too long, then followed after them anyway. Martin clapped his hands together once, declared himself ‘the people's champion,’ and disappeared through the sliding doors before anyone could argue otherwise.
You watched everyone disappear inside until the only thing left behind was the soft glow of the pool lights stretching across the water. The music became quieter with the glass doors closed, the bass muffled beneath the steady rhythm of waves breaking somewhere beyond the sand. The air felt heavier now, thick with salt and humidity that clung stubbornly to your skin.
You assumed Keonho would follow them.
He didn't.
He sat where he was for a moment, eyes lingering somewhere out toward the ocean, absent-mindedly turning his cup between his fingers. Then, without saying anything, he crossed the patio.
Not toward the house.
Toward you.
He lowered himself beside you with the familiarity of someone who'd done it a hundred times before. Close enough that your shoulders almost touched. Far enough that they didn't.
You glanced over.
Almost at the exact moment he glanced at you.
Neither of you looked away.
Not immediately.
He let out a quiet breath, the corners of his mouth twitching into something that wasn't quite a smile. "So..." His voice came softer than you'd remembered. "How've you been?"
It was such an ordinary question. You almost laughed. "I'm... good." The words came out with more hesitation than you'd intended. You took another sip from your can of coke before glancing over at him. "A little busy, you?"
"I'm good too."
The pause between the conversation should’ve been awkward, but it really was not. Keonho let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head to himself. "You can loosen up a little, you know."
"Hm?"
"I'm not interviewing you."
A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "I know."
"You look nervous."
"I do not."
He grinned as he furrowed his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling back. For a second, it felt painfully familiar. He reached behind him, fingers wrapping around another bottle before holding it up between the two of you. "Drink?"
You glanced at the label before looking back at him. "I've actually never drank before."
His eyebrows lifted. "Seriously?" he chuckled, "That's tragic."
"It’s a good thing you know."
"Thinking about it like that is your first mistake."
You laughed. "So dramatic."
"I'm honored."
"Hm?"
"That I get to make your first proper drink."
There was something strangely domestic about the way he said it. Like he'd said it a hundred times before. Maybe he would've. If things had turned out differently. He reached for an empty plastic cup, nudging yours aside with the back of his hand. "Okay," he said, sounding far more serious than the situation called for. "Lesson one."
You rested your chin in your palm, watching him with an amused smile.
"First..." He cracked open a bottle of Sprite. The sharp hiss cut through the quiet before he poured it into the cup. "Sprite." Then came the green apple vodka.
You watched the clear liquid keep pouring...And pouring. "...Keonho."
"Hm?"
"That seems like a lot."
"It isn't."
"It definitely is."
"It's science."
"Alcohol isn't science."
"It is."
"It really isn't."
"It is alcoholic science." He sounded so absurdly confident that you couldn't help laughing. "There you are again," he murmured.
"What?"
"Laughing." You hadn't even realized you'd stopped. He slid the cup across to you. "Go on." You eyed it suspiciously before taking a careful sip. The sprite hit first. Then the burn. Your face scrunched almost immediately. "Oh."
"What?"
"That burns."
“Good.”
You scoffed, “I think you poured too much.”
He leaned back against the couch, “Your first time, not mine. I know what I'm doing.”
Somewhere between proving him wrong and insisting he was making the drinks too strong, the conversation stopped feeling careful.
It slipped, almost without either of you noticing, into the familiar rhythm you'd once known by heart. Martin's dramatic attempts to confess to his eighth-grade crush. Wonhee's ongoing feud with every driving instructor she'd ever had. The time Iroha somehow convinced the six of you that a haunted house was a good idea. The matching detention you'd all gotten in middle school because Martin thought pulling the fire alarm would be ‘funny.’
Every memory led to another.
Every story ended with one of you saying, "Do you remember when..."
The answer was always yes. By the time Keonho glanced at the empty bottles gathered by your feet, he'd gone suspiciously quiet. "How many shots have we had?"
Your lips formed a line, "Hmm, five?"
He blinked. "In an hour?"
"I think so."
"I was teaching you responsibly."
"You literally invented alcoholic science."
"I stand by alcoholic science." You laughed so hard your stomach hurt. The world had begun to soften around the edges, the distant music blending with the sound of the waves until you couldn't quite tell where one ended and the other began. Neither of you had noticed how drunk you'd become. Or how easy this had started to feel again.
The two of you dissolved into another fit of laughter, louder than the joke had probably deserved. When it finally died down, the silence that followed felt comfortable.
The ocean filled in the gaps instead.
You hadn't noticed how humid it had gotten until a strand of hair stuck to the side of your face. The air clung stubbornly to your skin, thick with salt and summer, refusing to move no matter how strong the breeze became.
Keonho tugged absentmindedly at the collar of his shirt. "It's so humid."
"Mhm."
"I think I'm melting."
"You'll survive."
"I don't know.." He glanced toward the house before looking back out at the beach. "Actually."
You followed his gaze.
His Mustang sat a little farther down the driveway, parked where the pavement gave way to sand. Even from here you could see the moonlight catching against the blue paint.
"We could sit in the car." You looked at him. "The AC works, and the view's better."
You looked past him, toward the shoreline stretching endlessly beside it. The waves caught the moonlight in broken ribbons, disappearing just as quickly as they appeared. Behind you, someone inside the house let out an ear-splitting cheer, followed by what sounded suspiciously like glass shattering.
Martin.
Probably.
"They're going to burn this house down."
"They've got at least another hour before that happens."
You smiled. "Probably."
"So?"
"Car?"
There was nothing strange about the suggestion. Maybe there should've been. Maybe, two years ago, climbing into Keonho's car would've meant something. Now, it just sounded quieter. You nodded once. "Okay."
He stood first, steadying himself with a hand against the chair before offering the other toward you almost absentmindedly. The gesture caught both of you off guard. His hand lingered awkwardly in the space between you for half a second.
Long enough to notice.
Not long enough to make it strange. He laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck before pretending he'd meant to stretch instead.
"Right."
You smiled to yourself as you pushed yourself to your feet.
Some habits, apparently, took a little longer to disappear.
You followed him without really thinking about it. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was because following Keonho had never been something you needed to think about.
The walk wasn't far. Just long enough for the music behind you to blur into something distant, the cheers from inside the house swallowed by the ocean until they became impossible to separate from the waves themselves. Somewhere behind the glass doors, Martin was almost definitely embarrassing himself. You could picture it without looking. Wonhee would be yelling. Iroha would pretend not to know him. Minju would sigh before inevitably joining in.
The thought made you smile. "What?" You hadn't realized he'd noticed. "Nothing."
"Liar."
"Hm?"
"You're smiling."
"So?"
"So I'm curious."
"You've always been nosy."
"I’d prefer observant."
"You'd prefer anything if it made you sound right."
"It usually does." You laughed quietly, shaking your head. Some things, apparently, survived distance. The silence settled again. It wasn't heavy. If anything, it felt familiar.
There had been a time when the two of you could spend entire afternoons saying almost nothing at all. You'd sit in his car after school with the windows down, sharing a bag of chips because he'd always finish the salted ones before you could reach them. Sometimes you'd drive to the beach. Sometimes you'd stay parked outside your house until one of your parents texted asking if you'd forgotten where you lived.
The conversation had never been the point.
Being there was.
You frowned to yourself.
Funny.
You'd spent so much time remembering how the relationship ended that you'd almost forgotten what it had actually been like. Keonho slowed as the Mustang came into view. The blue paint caught the moonlight the same way it always had, tucked beneath the streetlamp overlooking the water. You remembered teasing him the week he'd gotten it, telling him it was a very dramatic first car.
He'd spent twenty minutes explaining why it wasn't just any Mustang.
You hadn't listened to a word. Not because you didn't care. Because you'd been too busy watching how excited he looked talking about it. "I still think she's prettier at night."
His voice pulled you back. You looked over. He wasn't looking at the car. He was looking at the ocean. "You gendered your car?"
He looked mildly offended. "Of course."
You stared at him.
"It’s a she?."
"Mhm."
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. It echoed strangely in the quiet. You hadn't heard yourself laugh like that in a long time. Neither, judging by the look on Keonho's face, had he. For a second, neither of you moved. He unlocked the car. The headlights blinked once before fading back into the dark.
"Ladies first." You rolled your eyes.
"What a gentleman."
"I have my moments."
You shook your head, still smiling as you slipped into the passenger seat. The cool air hit your face almost immediately. Outside, the waves kept rolling toward the shore. Inside, for the first time all night, it was just the two of you.
"How drunk are you?"
Keonho turns his head toward you. Instead of answering, he just laughs.
You sigh. "Noted."
"I didn’t even get to answer."
"Your laugh said enough."
"No, no." Keonho shakes his head.
“This is responsible drinking?”
He slowly toys with the cup in his hands, "I'm letting myself go today.”
You snort, “Say that every time you drink?”
He furrows his eyebrows, “It’s summer.”
“And?”
“Our last summer.”
"That's your excuse?"
"Yeah."
"Terrible excuse."
"I think it's a pretty good excuse."
He reaches over and takes the bottle from your hands. "You're judging me."
"I'm absolutely judging you."
"Wow."
"Someone has to."
Keonho gasps dramatically. The two of you fall quiet. The only sounds you can hear are the sounds of Keonho breathing. He stares at the water for a second, "Cookie loves the beach." His face immediately lights up. "Cookie is so stupid."
You chuckle. "Don’t say that."
"No, no. The dog’s actually stupid." He points at you with the bottle. "One time, Cookie ran into a glass door."
"Keonho."
"I'm serious." He starts laughing before he can even finish the story. "Like full speed."
You cover your mouth. "Oh my God."
"And then cookie looked at me." He's laughing harder now. "Like it was my fault."
"Maybe it was."
"It wasn't!"
"It could've been."
Keonho watches as the giggles escape your lips. Fuck you look gorgeous. Your eyes meet his, and he immediately starts rambling again. "Cookie loves swimming though."
Your eyes light up, "You swim too! twins!"
His smile falters slightly, it comes back again. "Well." He shrugs. "I swam."
"Used to?"
"Used to."
"Why'd you stop? You loved swimming."
He leans his head back slightly. He’s thinking, or maybe trying not to. He brings his hand up to his forehead. Massaging circles on his temple. It's honestly difficult to tell what he’s trying to do. "I don’t know." he says, finally.
"That's not an answer."
"It is."
"It's really not."
Keonho groans. "Okay, okay."
He reaches for the cup. Misses grabbing it completely. And then, he tries again. grabbing it successfully this time. "You know when you're little and adults keep asking what you wanna be?"
You nod. "Yeah."
"And then one day they stop asking."
You frown. "What do you mean?"
"They just decide." He shrugs. "At least mine did." The bottle hangs loosely between his fingers. "Someone's gotta take over my dad's company eventually."
"Your sister?"
Keonho immediately snorts. "My sister would rather throw herself into the ocean."
A laugh escapes you. "That's dramatic."
"No."
He points toward the beach. "That's her actual plan."
You laugh again. "Poor you."
"Nah." He waves a hand dismissively. "It's fine." He answers. "It's whatever."
You study him for a moment. The wind blows through his hair. His eyes are slightly glassy from the alcohol. The cup in his hands is nearly empty now. "You miss it?"
For the first time since coming out here, Keonho goes quiet. Actually quiet, he doesn’t try to throw a stupid comeback. His eyes drift back toward the shoreline. The waves. The water. The place where the ocean disappears into darkness. Then he shrugs. "A little." You don’t respond. "I was good, you know."
You look over. "I do."
"I was actually good.
"I know."
The words came out before you had the chance to think about them. Of course you knew. You'd watched every race you could. Sat through every medal ceremony, every warm-up, every meet where he'd climbed out of the pool shivering because he always insisted he wasn't cold. Somewhere along the way you'd learned the difference between the strokes just because he cared enough to explain them to you, even though you'd forgotten every technical term almost immediately afterwards. You remembered all of it. Funny, the things your mind chose to keep. Two years apart and somehow it was still the little things that refused to leave.
Keonho laughed under his breath, though there wasn't much humour behind it. "I always wondered if you remembered any of that."
"I remembered everything."
Silence followed, quiet enough that the song on the radio seemed louder. Outside, another wave folded itself onto the sand before disappearing into the next. Keonho watched it happen like it might have an answer neither of you had managed to find in two years. "I used to tell myself you probably forgot me."
You frowned. "I never forgot you."
"I know that now." Another pause. "Back then, I didn't."
He started absentmindedly fidgeting with his fingers. It was something he'd always done whenever he was trying to avoid looking at someone. You noticed that too. Apparently distance hadn't taken away your habit of watching him.
"I think..." He stopped, shaking his head once before starting again. "I think I spent so much time convincing myself breaking up was the right thing that I never really let myself think about whether it was the only thing."
You looked at him. "It wasn't."
"No." His voice was quiet. "It probably wasn't."
The words settled heavily between you. Not because either of you had expected them, but because they had arrived two years too late. "I kept replaying that day," you admitted, your eyes drifting back to the windshield. "The day I told you I was moving." He didn't interrupt. "I used to wonder what would've happened if one of us had just... said something different."
"What?"
"I don't know."
You laughed softly, though it caught somewhere in your throat. "'Let's try, or—We'll figure it out. Even a ‘'Don't go.' maybe" The last one came out smaller than the others. "I waited for you to say it."
His head turned so quickly it almost made you regret admitting it.
"I know that wasn't fair," you continued before he could answer. "You couldn't ask me to stay. My family was leaving either way. But some part of me..." You swallowed. "Some part of me just wanted to know you wanted me to."
Keonho closed his eyes for a moment. "I did."
The confession came without hesitation. "I wanted to ask you not to go."
Your chest tightened. "So why didn't you?"
"Because I loved you."
You stared at him.
He laughed once, quietly, almost at himself. "It sounds stupid when I say it out loud."
"It doesn't."
"I kept thinking," He looked back at the ocean. "If I asked you to stay, and you couldn't, I'd just make leaving harder for you."
"You didn't."
"No."
His smile was tired. "I just made it lonelier."
Neither of you spoke. The silence no longer felt like something either of you needed to escape. It simply existed between two people finally saying the things they'd rehearsed alone for years.
"I hated you for a while," he admitted. You blinked. "Not because you left." He shook his head. "I hated that I couldn't be angry at you." You felt your heart sink. "I wanted someone to blame, there wasn't anyone."
"I know."
He let out a slow breath. "So I blamed myself instead."
You looked down at your hands."I blamed you."
His eyebrows lifted. "For what?"
"For making it look easy."
He smiled sadly. "I thought you were doing the same."
"I was."
You both laughed then. Not because anything was funny, but because there was something almost cruelly ironic about it. Two years spent trying to protect each other from a pain you were both carrying anyway.
"I don't regret loving you," Keonho said after a long while.
"I know."
"I don't even regret us."
Your eyes met his. "I regret that we were so busy trying to do the right thing..." He looked down at the bottle still resting loosely in his hands. "That neither of us ever stopped to ask what we actually wanted."
Another wave broke against the shore.
The conversation had left something behind in the car. It lingered between the two of you, settling into the spaces where silence used to feel like avoidance. Now it simply existed, no longer asking to be filled, no longer demanding either of you pretend to be alright.
Keonho sat back in his seat, exhaling slowly through his nose. The empty cup rested loosely between his fingers. Outside, the tide kept pulling itself in and out, patient enough to outlast whatever two people were trying to make sense of in the front seats of a blue Mustang.
"You know..." he murmured after a while. His voice sounded different now, less guarded. "I spent two years trying to convince myself I'd made peace with it."
You turned your head. "Did you?"
A quiet laugh escaped him. "I got really good at pretending."
You smiled, though it never reached your eyes. "Me too."
Keonho reached to the display, “Still like Radiohead?”
You nodded. His fingers moved on the display. Talk Show Host is what he played.
Keonho's fingers drummed absentmindedly against the steering wheel before stopping altogether. Then, slowly, almost cautiously, he looked at you. Not the quick glances he'd stolen all evening. Not the ones you'd pretended not to catch.
He simply, looked. Stared basically.
You felt it almost immediately. Your eyes stayed fixed on the windshield for another second, maybe two, before curiosity got the better of you. You glanced over.
He hadn't looked away.
Your stomach tightened. "What?"
He blinked, almost surprised to find himself caught. "Nothing."
"You've been staring."
"I know."
"So stop."
"I don't think I can."
You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. "You're so drunk."
"I am, but I'd probably still be staring if I wasn't."
Your smile faltered. The compliment wasn't playful. If anything, it sounded like he'd said it by accident. You looked away first. There suddenly seemed to be a hundred fascinating things inside the car. A tiny crack in the leather stitched across the dashboard. The little glow-in-the-dark stars someone—probably his cousin sister had stuck in the corner of the windshield years ago. The digital clock glowing 2:21 in. An old parking receipt tucked into the cupholder.
Anywhere.
Everywhere.
Just not him.
"You still do that."
You frowned. "What?"
"When you get embarrassed."
Your hand froze halfway to your hair. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."
"You hide behind it." He smiled to himself. "You always have." Without thinking, you tucked a strand behind your ear anyway. His smile widened. "See?"
"Oh, shut up."
"I'm right."
"You are insufferable."
"I've been called worse."
"You deserved it."
"I probably did." The laughter faded almost as quickly as it came. Your eyes found his again.
Neither of you smiled this time.
It was strange, looking at someone you'd once known so completely. Stranger still to realize you still knew them now. The years in between hadn't erased as much as you'd convinced yourself they had. He still fidgeted when he was nervous. Still tilted his head ever so slightly when he was listening. Still looked at you like he was waiting for you to finish thoughts you hadn't spoken aloud.
Some habits, apparently, survived distance.
"So..." he said quietly. His thumb traced the edge of the cup once. "I've been thinking about kissing you for the last..." He glanced at the dashboard clock before laughing to himself. "...twenty-three minutes."
You felt your face warm. "Twenty-three?"
"I checked."
"You timed it?"
"I got curious."
"You are unbelievable."
"I know."
Keonho leaned forward first. Only enough to shorten the distance between you. Not enough to cross it. His voice had dropped so low you almost missed it. "Can I?" You looked at him for what felt like an impossibly long time. At the way uncertainty had finally replaced all that confidence. At the way his eyes searched yours, not assuming, not expecting, simply waiting.
For the first time in two years...He was asking. Not deciding for both of you. Not pretending to know what was best.
Just asking.
You answered by closing the space between you. The kiss was almost impossibly gentle. It lasted only a second before both of you instinctively paused, foreheads brushing as though you needed to make sure the other hadn't disappeared.
He smiled first.
You felt it before you saw it.
Then he laughed, quietly, the sound no louder than his breathing. "I forgot..." His voice caught. "how you kiss."
You couldn't help smiling. "You forgot?"
"I remembered everything else."
His hand lifted slowly, fingers brushing against your cheek with a tenderness that made your chest ache. This time, when he kissed you again, there was less hesitation. His hand settled lightly against your waist while yours found the front of his shirt, gathering the fabric without realizing it. The world outside continued exactly as it had before. Waves broke against the shore. Someone inside the house shouted loud enough that it carried faintly across the beach. Radiohead played on, indifferent to the fact that two years of silence had quietly unraveled inside a parked car.
When you finally pulled away, neither of you moved very far. "You know," you murmured, smiling despite yourself.
"Hm?"
"I think this is a terrible idea."
"It probably is."
"You sound...remarkably okay with that."
He looked at you for a long moment. Then, with the smallest smile— "I've spent two years making the sensible choice." His forehead rested against yours once more. "...I'd like to be selfish for five minutes."
This time, when you kissed him, it was your idea.
Morning arrived slowly.
Keonho woke with a dull ache behind his eyes, the kind that settled somewhere between too much vodka and too little sleep. For a moment he simply stared through the windshield, watching the waves roll onto the shore exactly as they had the night before. Nothing looked different. The beach was already beginning to fill with people. Someone jogged past the car without sparing it a second glance. It wasn't until he shifted in his seat that he realized the passenger side was empty.
"Baby?"
Only the ocean answered. The seat beside him was still reclined, carrying the faint imprint of where you’d fallen asleep. His phone sat on the center console beneath a pale yellow sticky note, his name written across it in handwriting he'd recognize anywhere.
He smiled before he even unfolded it. The smile didn't last.
Someday we'll get the timing right. Thank you for finally telling me the truth. I’m sorry.
For a long moment, he simply looked at it. Then he grabbed his phone and called.
Voicemail.
The walk back to the house felt shorter than he remembered. Empty bottles littered the deck, someone's shoe floated lazily in the pool, and the music that had blared until sunrise had finally gone quiet. Inside, Martin stood in the kitchen nursing a bottle of water, squinting against the morning light. "Have you seen her?”
Martin looked up. He knew exactly who Keonho was talking about. "She left."
Keonho frowned."What do you mean she left?"
"To the airport."
Something inside him twisted. "The airport?"
Martin nodded, confused by the question. "Yeah. Her flight."
"What flight?"
A crease settled between Martin's brows. "...Europe."
Keonho didn't say anything. Martin hesitated. "Her university."
The silence that followed felt strangely familiar. "She told us weeks ago." Martin studied his face for a second before asking quietly, "She didn't tell you?"
Keonho looked back down at the note still crumpled in his hand. “Fuck.”
i will SMACK U I WILL SMACK U NOIR I MISS U TOO OMG CAN I HIT U LOVINGLY 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 did u see DID U SEEE CORTIS' NEW POST ON INSTGARAM DID U SEE JJU KEON AND SEONGHYEON I REPEAT DID U FUCKING SEE THEMMM
OMGGG HIII LOL I LOVE YOUR FICCSSS!! also can you write a fic where cortis 6th mem x Sean. In which they're doing a Livestream and Sean can't help but stare at YN???!!!
HAHAH HII TY FOR LIKINH MY WORKKK🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️
but SADLYYY i don’t write 6th memb..😓😓 it’s mentioned in my guidelines!! thanks for dropping by thooo😭😭 IN SORRYY (also reqs are closed as of now)
hey iro this is not that big of a deal, but i just want to say that i suggest you check next time if the color palette for your text is readable on both light and dark mode (or if it already is, hopefully not an eyesore) because your hyeon fic just came on my dash rn and i literally couldn’t read some of the words until i switched to dark mode and i think this is also the case with your few other works sorry 😭 love u tho!
IM CRYINGG THANK U FOR LETTING ME KNOW??? i lowk thought ab it as i uploaded it, but i thought it was always dark mode once u click on it💀 (cus thats how it works on my phone, but also maybe cus im a dark mode person omg) i dont read on my laptop so i never rlly noticed IM SORRY FOR BEING IGNORANT AB THIS AAAA
IM SORRY GUYS 😭 ima keep this in mind. omg thank u anonie my baby. lowk locking in on fixing this for all my works 😭 😭 😭 (side note: i physically cant edit bluelips cus tumblr js wont process it thru, idk why)
I'm still in bed. It's 3 pm as u know. let me yap a bit cuz that was amazing.. (a lovely message from your nana)
ok so I read love is war (CAN I KISS YOU) and it was amazing obviously I've been knowing you're the best person ever cuz I've witnessed it a year before these tumblr people did.. (I'm the og) (CAN I KISS YOU) and yes let's talk. 1. this was my first time witnessing your writting style and anything you've ever written and WOW. your attention to detail is admirable, and I couldn't take off my eyes the screen.. like a chud it's 3pm and I was reading since 1 pm MIND U I DIDNT MOVE. sorry for crashing out in ur dms without giving context but in my defense I just read "goodnight keonho" and my heart was pounding. (CAN I KISS YOU) 2. okay so I was so involved, so focused on trying to figure out who it was that my heart was pounding the whole time and my hands were shaking while texting you.. I adore how you built your characters, how smart the reader is and how she focuses on thinking about those who are close to her YET NEVER thought seriously that keonho might be a possibility. you know I started reading knowing nothing I didn't even read the tags or the synopsis.. but I had a feeling it would be keonho. when it was revealed I GENUINELY FELT MY HEART DROP. that was freaking crazy. you being able to raise suspense and leave people guessing is what makes you so freaking amazing. also I've been talking too much but you've known me for long enough to know I never shut up about you. (CAN I KISS YOU) 3. the ending was so cute. BUT BEFORE THAT I WAS ON THE EDGE OF MY BED SERIOUSLY THINKING ONE OF THE WAS GONNA KILL THE OTHER OR THEY DIE BOTH. ur freaking crazy I love ur brain. uhmmm I'm too clouded by how amazing that was that I don't know what to write anymore.. I definitely had better pointers while reading but it was so amazing I've gone dumb. I love you 😊💕 (CAN I KISS YOU) oh ok enough I will explore your "masterlist" soon. love u baby byebye
NANA SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP OHMYGOD DETAILED REVIEWWW
yes u very much saw me crashing out over d fucking plotholes in my OWN WORK BRUHHH (yes il kiss u) im wondering why it took u 2 hours to read.....17k words...2 hours??? u distacted af bruh but like lowk im giggling like....ok u can KISS MEEE WHATEVERRR WHATVEERR ION CURRR BRUHHHH. i was hoping that whnv anyone reads that bigfat goodnight keon they assume hes getting slimed out AND YES THANK GOD I SUCCEDEDDD HAHAHAHHA im lowk glad u didnt read the warnings but even if u did i never specified angst/ comfort/ no comf SO HEHEHEEEE
yo i dont know how to respond im so overhwlemed ur so nice ahahha il kiss u hahaha read ramparts manga AHAHAHAHAH
thank u sm nana my baby my chulo my little warm brownie w icecream my skillet cookie and i rlly luv that fucking cookie okay??? ok banahnanana nana ok?? u can kiss me ok??? ok???? i l*v* u okay??? bye, ok?
never knew i needed to be an assassin who has a best friend assassin turned bf this gave me something to daydream ab instead of studying
thank you for your service 🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️
stop i will kiss u ceeceee, run away or else i will genuinely trap u into a million kisses CEECEE.
this was me writing the plot ->😝, i was trying to do everything but let ppl figure out who d copy is i hope i did a DECENTT job at least....i lowk wanna see more of these topics on coerblr cus theyre so fun to read </3 i wanna see more psych thrillers bruh such goated fics in those genres
romaincrisis
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
yousharknotpass
blakekathryn
baratheonpilled
kianamaiart