I currently have a few shorts for my #PictureThis collection for Han, Taehyung, Chaewon, Bang Chan, Sakura, Jeonghan, Lee Dong Wook, Gong Yoo, Wonwoo, Lee Know, Jungkook, Sukuna and Mingyu!!!
I have a a few longer fics for Kyungsoo, Mark Lee, Hyunjin, Taemin, and Jinsik. I’m really excited to share these!!!
Plus many more that haven’t moved from my notebooks yet since I’ve been finding it easier to write on paper … but not edit hahaha
I will be posting a few of these soon. I plan to post this week!
I have so many things I am working on and so many ideas - and more time now to write so I’ll be more active again for a little while before college starts back up in the fall 💕
hey bestie!!! ok so genuine question and i mean this with love but. WHEN. i have been sitting here for months (years??) refreshing your page like my life depends on it and i am not the only one i KNOW there are others. you clearly have talent so why are we all just left to suffer?? i am actually losing my marbles waiting for an update to your many MANY unfinished fics lol it's been months and i am starving here!!
not to be that girl but if you’re suffering from writer's block have you thought about just using ai to finish the drafts?? 😭 like just to get the words out? a bunch of my mutuals use it for plotting/filler scenes and it would save you so much time so we can finally get more content!! just a thought love you mean it xx
Ummm. Was, this, written, by, ai? lol sorry if it wasn’t, but what is this? Thank you for reading my content and enjoying my content but if you like what I write then you shouldn’t want me to use AI. I know I take forever to write (or actually to edit 😅) but I really don’t understand the point of using ai. It wouldn’t be my own work — please stop saying it is.
Thank you for your support but please continue to support me and not ai content. The funny thing is I have checked out many of these ai’s and I wasn’t able to find a way to use them. I don’t like the way they sound and I don’t think they’re as smart or useful as everyone seems to think they are. All they succeeded in doing was making me pull my hair out. I shouldn’t have to tell it every single tiny minuscule thing I need it to do for it to work. It takes less time to do it myself AND it hurts the earth less. Plus it just isn’t what you think it is. It’s unfulfilling.
Imagine if I went to get a tattoo with a list of everything I wanted in detail including a bunch of reference images and then when the artist I paid to make this piece of art was finished I went around telling everyone I was the one who completed the tattoo.
What if I gave the contractor all my ideas and every time they did something I wasn’t happy with I asked them to change it. Did I complete the house remodel? Or hey, I drove myself here, after all I gave the driver all the directions. I watched the keys move on the self playing piano after supplying the song I wanted to play. I’m the piano player. Hell, at this point I must be a piano teacher.
Paying for someone else to do the thing or asking a machine to do it is not doing the thing! People using calculators are practically math gods at this point. “Let’s clean the house,” you say putting down the Roomba.
And I’m so sick of using disabilities as an excuse for ai. As someone who struggles to write consistently due to several illnesses I take offense to this. Sorry babe but if you can’t even write a fanfic because of your disability then maybe you need to find a new hobby, because what you are doing is not creating, all you’re doing is delegating. Prompting is not creating. And can we all agree and notice that when they are called out they are somehow able to write a long winded response? But I thought you couldn’t do that by yourself because of your disabilities?
I know writing and making art is hard. That’s okay. It’s not for everyone. If you don’t love it enough to keep trying and chipping away at it you don’t have to keep going. No one is forcing you to keep going, no one is forcing you to finish within a certain timeframe and no one is forcing you to be here.
And anyone with any amount of experience with writing and/or ai can tell when it is ai generated. It’s pretty obvious and it’s annoying. I wonder if they get off on people not knowing. I don’t blame the readers. Every fic sounds the same. Also now the newer writers who actually do write their own content are seeing this ai slop and how many notes they can get and of course that is how they’ve all started to write. It’s an endless circle jerk cycle and I’m sick of it!
I have been working on a LDW fic actually! Well, I was before I started going back to school haha
It’s almost summer break though so I plan to edit and post a few things and to write some fics again! So hopefully there will be some updates here shortly!
“Shhh,” he whispers, pressing a finger to your lips. “I don’t want to know your name.”
Before you can respond he’s flipping you around, jamming you up against the wall, his chest hard against your back. His hands roam across your body and his lips caress your neck. Heat spreads across your skin focusing on your face, arms and between your legs.
How did you even get here?
Not that it really matters now though, not when his cock is sliding in and out of your wet pussy.
The tight space of this little stall, the unknown stranger thrusting inside you, the way he grinds his fingers hard against your clit, hard and dirty – it’s all too much. The feeling of it all has you riding your high faster than ever before.
But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. As if you’re just a tool to him, he keeps up his pace to the point of overstimulation meets fear. Right when you’re sure you can’t take another moment of it he spills inside you, his body tight and tense as he fills you up.
He hums against your neck and pats your head before pulling out, zipping up and walking out without another word, leaving you to clean up the cum dripping down your thighs.
Sitting at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, you look out the window with a frown. The birds are singing, the sun is shining, the kids are laughing. Everything is merry and bright yet you can’t stop yourself from feeling this sense of dread.
“You had the dream again last night, didn’t you?”
His voice startles you. Namjoon leans against the counter looking down at you as you sip the bitter mess of a coffee you made this morning. He’s just worried about you but a part of you resents him; for his ability to sleep, for his ability to think clearly, for his ability to look well rested. He looks great, clear skin and silky hair, nothing like the bug-eyed drowned rat of a person you’ve become.
“How’d you guess?” You try not to sound like an asshole but it’s hard to be kind on two hours of sleep.
“What do you think it means?” He doesn’t miss a step, continuing as if you hadn’t just barked out the question.
“I wish I knew.” You sigh, his stable patience breathing new life into you. “It’s not even a horrible dream – that’s the thing. Anyone else would be happy with it. I should be happy.”
“You shouldn’t be anything. You’re allowed to feel whatever’s going on inside,” he says, his eyes on yours. It’s too intense. You look away. He leans over and kisses your forehead before turning to pour himself a coffee. It’s a mistake; you can see it on his face as soon as he takes the first sip. It’s awful. You should know.
“Tell me about the dream again,” he says as he pours the sorry excuse of a coffee down the drain.
“It’s the same one.” You resist a sigh. He’s trying to be helpful, there’s nothing he can do so he’s trying to figure it out. “The pressed flowers in a pink envelope from a traveller who says it’s always been mine when I open it. The music box that only plays when it rains. A book with no words that when I touch the pages hums a hymn I’d forgotten long ago. It’s not horrifying, and that scares me the most. It feels like it should be something wonderful but somehow all it does is fill me with dread.”
He nods for a moment before holding up a finger. “Aha! I have a brilliant idea.”
“Oh course you do,” you say, shaking your head with a smile tugging at the edge of your lips. The man can do literally nothing and still make you smile.
“You’ve been thinking too hard about the problem. You need a day off.” You raise a brow and he continues, “Let's play hooky.”
“Hooky?” Who says ‘hooky’?
“That’s right. Let’s call out sick.” Before you can shut him down, he adds, “You’re overworked and stuck on this dream as if it’s a problem to be solved. Maybe it's a cry for help. Perhaps it is telling you to live a little. Let’s go for a bike ride and act like kids for the day, exploring and making even the small things fun.”
You laugh. “Who are you?”
He pulls you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest. “I’m just trying something. I don’t want to see you sad anymore.”
“Okay,” you whisper, your lips against his neck as you let your mind wander to the pond down in the grove not far from your house. There’s a giant koi fish inside that sparkles like gold when the sun hits it just right. “Let’s find that childish spark of wonder once more.”
Being called AI has to be a top fear right now. But then I remember that I don’t post anything because I don’t edit anything 😭😭😭😂 There is so much ai content out there right now too, it’s disheartening because it is doing so well.
But that’s okay! Things are coming! I have been writing a lot! I am trying to get into the habit of editing more now too so more content coming soon!
Which I have been saying for years but I really mean it this time! Believe me! Believe in me! I really mean it! I do! 😂
I have so much to post once I edit and I’ve started editing a few shorts a week so I’ll be posting some of them soon and I’m working my way up to editing the larger ones 🥺
He makes it look so easy. It is easy. It shouldn’t have been the ordeal you made it out to be and maybe it wasn’t. Some part of you, a not so far down part, knows that you could have done this yourself. After all, it’s not hard to change a lightbulb.
In your defense, it is encased in a shade with strange screws, in the hallway, above your staircase. Sure, you can’t reach it yourself, but a ladder would work just as easily. And yes, the step stool you tried did almost kill you but you could have found a way to steady it. This is all correct. You could have found a way to replace your own lightbulb.
But where’s the fun in that?
Watching Jeno reach up to change the bulb after lugging in more tools than necessary after you had talked up the job was worth it. You have nothing going on today, why not be entertained by your friendly neighbour? Especially in those tight jeans that hug him in all the right places and that tight tank he’s donning. Add in some bedhead and you can’t help but wonder if he rushed over here as soon as he woke up.
Some might say you’re gawking but you prefer the term admiring. Guys do it to you constantly so what’s the harm in doing it right back? When they’re as hot as Jeno is, anyway.
He hands you the glass shade and you wrinkle your nose. It's dusty, and a film of grime soon covers your fingers. You don’t want to miss anything but this thing must not have been cleaned since this apartment was erected! You rush into the kitchen and wash it quickly; rinsing, cleaning and drying with a speed you didn’t know you possessed before scurrying back to your personal handyman.
He’s waiting for the lid with a smile on his face. A smile that quickly fades as you say, “I thought you would be wearing less.” You hand him the glass shade and his mouth drops. You hold your hand under the shade to support it as his grip loosens for a moment.
“You what?”
“The utility belt is a nice touch.”
“I was under the impression this was a more difficult job,” he says, regaining his composure and his grip on the glass. He tuts at you before turning back to the task at hand, quickly securing the light shade in place. He grins and adds, “if I had known it would be this simple I would have brought out the short shorts.”
“Don’t tease.”
“I’m not.”
“Unless you’re wearing them, you’re teasing.”
“Maybe I have them on underneath these,” he says with a chuckle as he slides a hand down the side of his jeans.
“Liar.” You couldn’t fit anything under those pants. They are practically a second skin.
He leans in, his breath on your neck and whispers, “There’s only one way to find out.”
Thought I was doing amazing with my 840 words in one sitting until I looked over at my writing partner and she’s easily at 2k (no doubt closer to 3k) and I’m just 😩
Summary - Your next door neighbour has some friends over and they are loud. You ask them to keep it down and one of them follows you back to your apartment.
Genre - Fluff
Warnings - Suggestive, misunderstandings, pet names, swearing, teasing,
Word Count - 2.5K
A/N - Yunho won the poll! I finally edited this one! Hope you all like it <3
Can you figure out which member is which?
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It’s late and your next door neighbour has all his loud friends over again.
It’s not the first time this week and neither is it the first time you’ve had to go over and ask him to keep it down. When he’s by himself the volume is fine–when he’s alone he’s great!–it’s only when they all get together it turns into complete utter chaos.
You don’t want to be the bad guy but you’re trying to get some work done before you head to bed and you don’t plan to stay up all night. Why can’t he keep this under control? Why do you always have to be the bad guy?
The door is practically jumping, the vibration from the noise and movement inside shaking it on its hinges as you walk up. Will they even hear you knocking at this point? Surely no one will hear you over the hysterical laughter coming from inside. You try it anyway, three firm knocks.
There’s no response so you try again, harder.
And again.
And again.
Tapping your foot with impatience you decide on a backup plan – a post it note. Luckily you had the sense of mind to bring some along with a pen. After all, this isn’t your first time at this rodeo. Also luckily for you, this apartment is cheap and the construction of said building questionable, the doors don’t quite touch the ground which leaves plenty of room to slide the note underneath.
You write out a nice message (nice considering the circumstance, nice considering the time of night and nice considering your current mood) and try to slide it under the door. The sticky note latches onto the bottom of the door. You hold in a groan by biting your lip as you bend down closer to the door, down on your hands and knees, and yank the note off. You try again and this time it gets stuck in the crease of the door jam. It has somehow sucked it up and under and crammed it into the small space.
“For fuck’s sake!” You curl your fingers under the door to free the note as the door flies open, leaving you to topple to the floor face first.
“What are you doing?” the man asks as you look him up at him, your face burning. It’s not your neighbour. It must be one of his friends.
“I was leaving a, uh, a note,” you stammer the words, snatching the post it note back from the jam. It tears in two, leaving most of it behind, now crumbled up inside the door frame. You lean close to the door, ignoring the sneer of the man above you, and peel the pieces back one by one as he watches. You hold out the pieces of the note as evidence.
“You’re writing a note for San?”
“San?”
“You don’t know San?” The man frowns down at you, one eye more narrowed than the other. “Who did you say you were?”
“I didn’t. Look, I’m just leaving a note to ask you guys to keep it down,” you say, standing up with a sigh. “I knocked several times.”
“Did you guys hear a knock?” he yells over his shoulder.
An echo of ‘no’s’ rings out before you hear a familiar voice ask, “Who is it?”
“Some girl,” he replies, giving you the old once over. “A cute girl.”
“Invite her in,” someone yells back and a chorus of laughter follows.
“Just keep it down in there,” you huff out, hands on your hips. “There are people with children, you know. And jobs to get to in the morning.”
“She’s a single mum,” he adds to his previous comments as some of his friends start to mosey over.
“A MILF,” one of them adds with a nod as his eyes flutter across your body, making you feel exposed.
“I’m not a MILF!”
“Don’t be shy, girl,” the new guy says, coming up to the door. “You’re hot.”
“I’m not, I mean, what I mean is–”
“She’s cute when he’s flustered,” another one says, leaning lazily against his friend at the door. “You wanna come in? We can send Wooyoung to look after the kid.”
“Hey!” The one who answered the door, Wooyoung, smacks the newcomer with his open palm. “Why don’t you take care of the kid and I’ll take care of the mother.” He grins at you, his brow quirking as he asks, “What do ya say?”
You roll your eyes. “There’s no kid.”
“Great, then you have no reason to say no,” the newcomer says, opening the door a little wider.
“Just keep it down,” you practically growl out the words before turning and stomping back to your own door. There’s another round of laughter before the door shuts, dampening the sound… but not killing it. They are obnoxiously loud.
The door opens again and you spin on your heels, keys in hand, and gasp.
He’s fucking gorgeous.
Tall and commanding, sultry and dangerous. You inhale deeply and as if compelled take a step back.
“Oh shit! Yunho’s going after the MILF!”
“She’s not a MILF, idiot!”
“I thought you said she was hot?”
He shuts the door and the chatter dims. He’s smiling.
“Sorry about them. They can be a bit… rowdy.”
“Aha,” you say, letting the syllables of the word draw out as you motion towards the door with a flick of your head. “And I’m sure you’re Mr. Responsible.”
“Well, maybe not entirely responsible,” he says with a grin. He’s dazzling, his smile sucking the air out of the room, a smile that screams ‘this has worked on all the girls before you’ and you’re sure it has. He takes a step towards your side of the hall. “I promise we’re not so bad.”
A silent battle rages within and the urge to return his smile overpowers you. “Not so bad? Just really loud.”
“I’ll tell them to keep it down.”
“You do that.” You turn back to the door and slide the key into the lock. “Good night.”
“You aren’t going to invite me in?”
Turning back to face him again you narrow your eyes. Ignoring his puppy eyes you ask, “And why would I do that? I don’t even know your name.”
“Yunho,” he says, a hand on his chest as he takes another step towards you. “And you are?”
“Tired.”
“Right, of course, how rude of me.” His lips pull back into a grimace as he makes a clicking noise with his tongue. “A single mother needs her rest.”
“A single– I am not–”
“Ahhh. Hmmm.” He nods, his eyes pensive, a determined thin line where his lips used to be.
“I’m not pregnant, I’m not married and I don’t have kids. I’m just someone who has to get some work done tonight before I go to sleep.” You open the door a crack before turning back to face him. “And I don’t want to be some conquest you run and tell your buddies about in the morning.”
“Mmm.” He nods, a whisper of a smile on his lips. His happy bubbly energy is infuriating.
“What?”
“Hmm?”
“You obviously have something to say. Go ahead and just say it.”
“No, no, no. You have work to do,” he says, laughter dancing in his eyes.
“Just spit it out already.”
“It just seems to me that you’re lonely.” He takes a final step, now right next to you and a part of you wants to pull back but this is your door.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been over here, working hard,” he says, leaning against your doorframe, blocking any exit plans you may have had, filling up your field of vision. Strength and comfort in a single stance. “And there’s a part of you that’s reaching out for some human contact.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep.” His smile is so bright you take a step back and as you do you have a chance to really take him in. Messy bedhead waves, kind eyes and lips that make you want to test if they’re as soft as they look. His shirt is styled larger than he needs and it hangs off one of his shoulders revealing a tank underneath. As you continue to stare his hands inch up to his neck to play with the hair there. His fingers are long and slender as they move across his collarbone, tempting you with what else is hiding beneath.
“Hmm.” He bites his lip as he straightens his shirt with a look of discomfort. When you raise a brow he grins, his previous expression gone. “I’m not a piece of meat, you know.”
Resisting an eye roll you motion for him to move. “It’s late.”
“It’s only 10PM. On a Saturday. What kind of nightmare boss do you work for?” He laughs but he moves away from the door.
“Some people like to get up early.”
“No one likes to get up early.”
“Well… some people have to.”
“Like MILFs?” He grins, his eyes almost closing as he bares his teeth in a Cheshire Cat grin. He leans against the wall right next to your door.
“Very funny. You’re a funny guy.” You let out a long sigh. “Maybe if you and your friends hadn’t been so obnoxious all evening I would…” You let the words fade away as you look up at him, that little niggling frown back. What? You would have what? This guy is a stranger and a friend of your neighbour at that. You know better than to get involved with someone so close to home.
“You would…?” He’s good looking and he knows it. He almost got you, he almost had you dancing to the drum of his seductive beat. Swooning. You refuse. Shaking your head you straighten up.
“I would have had a better night. That’s all.”
“Ahh…” His smile fades and you reach out your hand to soothe him on autopilot before catching yourself mid arm pat.
“Well, good night then.”
“Yeah, you already said that.”
“I know,” you say quickly as you try to ignore the fact that your body has inched closer to his, like a magnet, your chest now seeking his. You swallow and pull yourself together. “I know. I just wanted to make sure you heard me.”
“Awe, you want me to have a good night?” He grins again, his eyes practically sparkling with mischief. “What else do you want for me?”
“You’re a menace!” You nudge his shoulder and laugh. When he continues to look at you expectantly you hum in thought. What do you want for him? Maybe you want him to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, take you inside and toss you down on the bed so he can defile you. All. Night. Long.
But you can’t very well say that. Not out loud. Not to his face. Well, at least you shouldn’t.
As if able to read your inner dialogue a sly smirk spreads across his perfect features. “All that, huh?”
“I want you to be quiet. You and your friends,” you mumble out the words with an angry pout, your hands on your hips. “How about that?”
“How about”–he slides closer, closing the already nonexistent gap between you to lean down close to your ear and whisper–“you tell the truth?”
Blood rushes across your skin, your heartbeat thumps to a song only you can hear making everything except the closeness of the man to you dull and blur. In this moment, nothing else feels important.
“Fine, the truth is–” You cut yourself off as your hands bury themselves in hair and fabric, one under his oversized shirt, one feeling just how soft those locks are. Your lips quickly find his, tasting him as you melt into his touch. He lifts you up and you take the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist as his tongue dances along your lips until you open them to allow the kiss to deepen. It’s not enough.
You rock gently against his crotch, overwhelmed by the heat flooding your body. Would it be wrong to tear his clothes off right here? You want him inside you. Now.
You’re tempted to, and maybe you will, but you shouldn’t, not here.
Pulling back you pant softly as you catch your breath, you look down at him as your fingers caress the side of his face, his throat, his neck. He looks so beautiful with his lids half closed, your lip gloss smeared across his lips and down his throat, as he watches you waiting to see what your next move will be.
Leaning in close you retrace your steps, this time taking it slow, each kiss bringing about a murmur of excitement from Yunho until you are flipped around, a squeal escaping your lips as you cling to him. Back pressed up against the wall you moan as his lips find yours once more.
Spirals of pleasure circle up and down your body as he grinds against your aching cunt, your own small rhythmic rocks adding to the friction. Your fingernails dig into his back as you bite his lip, eliciting a groan from the back of his throat as Yunho squeezes your arse and pulls you even closer. You open your eyes as a clicking sound pings from down the hall but you close them again as Yunho’s lips move down your neck. Tilting your head you give him more access and instantly regret it as a moan exits your lips the moment his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your neck.
“Dammmnnn.”
The voice rings out, your body is humming with pleasure and your mind is still trying to catch up but once it does you realize the voice wasn’t the man with his tongue now down your throat.
“Yunho’s out here necking that MILF girl.”
“Who says necking?”
“What? Are they fucking?”
“He looks like a vampire in heat.”
Why are they so loud? There’s only one outside, the others are still inside. For now. Nevermind, two more just popped their heads out from the other side of the door. They are all grinning over at you, one of them is covering his mouth as if in shock.
“Ahh,” Yunho breathes out, the pressure of his hands tighten protectively as he continues to hold you up. You twist slightly and he lessens his hold, easing you down until your feet are back on the ground.
“Maybe we should,” you whisper, and motion towards the doorway right next to you. “You want to?”
“Your room?” He smirks, causal in his avoidance of your hand as you try to slap him. “How about we have a drink first and see where it goes?”
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I am working on a few things! I’m so excited! So many exciting things coming!
I have decided to limit the amount of people I write for, I’m think I’m feeling a little overwhelmed with how many options I’m providing. Not to say that I won’t write for anyone else but I’m going to start narrowing who I write for most of the time.
I have a couple of series that are in the works and a few longer fics (I say longer but you know that just means it’s 3-5k lol lol lol 😭😂) in the works! I’m so excited to share them with you!!!!
Don’t worry I’m still editing the Yunho fic and the Chishiya fic! I haven’t forgotten them! They are coming!! And I’m about to post a poll for an upcoming SVT fic. I have so many plans and I have been posting regularly 🥰
I really just need to get better about editing now lol lol lol I am done with my SVT collab fics with @kpoptrashlord-007 so those will all be posted this year! Yay! And I have a few prompt list ideas that will also be coming out soon! One in time for kinktober 🥰
October is coming up on us fast! I’m thinking I might hold a mini event with my prompt list for it. And I’ll write for pretty much anyone. So look forward to that!
A/N - This is part of the Holidays With Seventeen Collab co-hosted with @kpoptrashlord-007. Happy green Day <3
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“Oh no,” Seokmin says, rubbing the space between his eyes. “They’ve found us.”
“Who?”
Turning your head you look behind you. There’s people everywhere; the sakura tree park is a popular place on Green Day after all. Your eyes search, looking for someone or rather several someones coming toward you. It takes a moment to weed through the crowd but you finally spot them. Two men walking toward you, one with a grin so large his eyes have turned into thin crescents, the other wearing a half smile with a raised brow.
“We can escape if we abandon the food,” Seokmin says as he grabs a bottle of soju.
You laugh until you realise he’s hundred percent serious. “Who are they?” You’re getting nervous now.
They call out to him – one is loud and calls out something while the other waves, trying to get Seokmin’s attention.
You grab your bag and start to grab the corners of the checkered blanket when he says, “My roommates.”
You stop. “Your roommates?”
They’ve covered a lot of ground in little time, much closer than they were even mere seconds ago. Looking back at the pair you frown. They seem harmless enough. “Why are we running then?”
“We aren’t running per se…”
“It sounds like we’re running.”
“Who’s running?” a bubble voice asks from behind you.
“No one,” Seokmin answers, taking a gulp of the soju. “Not now.”
The man behind you grins, his bright eyes disappearing as he does so. He’s a beam of sunshine, swaying back and forth as he waits.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” the one with the half-grin asks. Seokmin tells them your name with a shrug but doesn’t give you their names. The man waits a moment, the silence deafening as you listen to the sounds of couples laughing and birds trilling around you. Finally he smiles and holds out his hand. “I’m Joshua, and this is–”
“I’m Hoshi!” the other man says, thrusting out his hand as he moves closer. Joshua is forced out of the way as Hoshi shakes your hand ecstatically, then sits next to you on the blanket.
Joshua frowns at Hoshi but he doesn’t seem to notice as he talks to you, a string of questions bursting out of him. “So, how long have you known our boy, Dokyeom? Where did you meet? Do you like sakura trees? What is your favourite drink? What are your intentions with DK?”
“Yes,” Joshua adds with a sly smile. “Do you plan to make an honest man out of him?”
Seokmin groans and takes another gulp–or three–of the soju and you can’t help but laugh. “You guys are close, huh?”
“Not answering the question,” Hoshi says while pretending to write in a notebook. He nods and hums. “So how much do you know about Dokyeom? Did he tell you about the time–”
“Here!” Seokmin shoves a bottle of soju in Hoshi’s face. “Drink this.”
“Don’t mind if I do. Thanks!” Hoshi looks around and frowns. “Didn’t you bring any glasses?”
You dig in the picnic basket and pull one out for him. “Here you go.”
“Perfecto,” he says with a smile before pouring himself a drink. “After all, we're not savages.”
Joshua lets out a snort as Seokmin stops drinking his soju (directly from the bottle) mid-gulp. You giggle as your perfect boyfriend and his perfect skin start to redden.
“This is why I didn’t want you guys here,” he mumbles.
His friends ignore him, enjoying the day and the outing while he pouts.
“Why are you so quiet?” you ask him, nudging his foot with your own.
“I’m not!” he says rather loudly. “I’m being the normal amount of quiet. This is my normal inner voice.”
“You seem pretty quiet to me,” Hoshi says. “Doesn’t he seem quiet, Shua?”
“Hmm, he’s being exceptionally quiet. For Dokyeom.”
Meanwhile Seokmin is giving you puppy dog eyes and motioning towards his friends. You giggle and ask, “So how long have you guys been roommates?”
“Doesn’t answer questions but asks her own,” Hoshi says, writing in his imaginary notebook again.
“Let’s just say a long time,” Joshua answers. “What about you? Known Seokmin long?”
“Not that long,” you answer, taking a sip of your own soju, poured by your date just moments before his friends arrived. “But it feels like we’ve known each other for years.”
Joshua looks over at Seokmin and they share a look. “Come on, Hoshi, let’s check out the pond.”
“But I haven’t finished my drink. And I still don’t know why DK is acting so weird.”
Joshua wrangles in Hoshi and they both say their goodbyes before heading off. You can still hear Hoshi’s side of the conversation as they make their way toward the pond.
“I thought they’d never leave,” Seokmin says with a shake of his head, and you can’t help but giggle once more.
“I like them.”
“They are a headache.”
“You’re different around them.”
“I’m not trying to impress them,” he says with a wink.
“You don’t need to impress me, either,” you say, smiling as you nurse your glass of soju.
“You’ve already fallen head over heels for me, then?”
His grin is contagious and you can’t help but laugh. Picking up a napkin you toss it toward him but it doesn’t get far, instead spiralling to the ground next to you. You pat his hand playfully and his grin starts to fade, his features turning much more serious.
“That’s good because… I think I’m falling for you, too.”
“You think?” you ask, heat radiating out from your cheeks down to your neck and chest as you try desperately not to look away.
He leans closer and reaches out, grabbing your hand and delicately turning it over within his own. He plays with the lines on your palm. It’s hard to breathe with him so close, with him touching you in such a simple yet intimate way.
“Yeah, I’m still not sure.”
You blink.
He shrugs.
You frown.
He grins.
You revisit your old friend, the discarded napkin, and this time you’re close enough for it to land, hitting him square in the face. He starts to laugh, holding his hands up.
“I kid, I kid!”
“You know, I think you’re right – your roommates are bad influences.” Your breath hitches and the next words die on your lips as he leans back in, this time his lips brushing against your neck.
“I lied.”
“You lied?” You try to listen to his response over your frantic heartbeat.
“I don’t think I like you at all,” he says as his lips caress your neck. “I know I do.”
He pulls back, his lips departing from your skin to leave you yearning. When he looks at you now there’s no smile on his face. Your fingers wrap around his neck, pulling him back toward you, while your other hand slides into his hair. His lips press against yours, soft and warm. Heat spreads out across your skin, reaching out to every part of your body.
Right as you are about to deepen the kiss you hear a whistle.
The whistle is accompanied by a hollering hoot.
Pulling away from Seokmin, you both look over at his roommates. Joshua has a knowing grin on his lips while Hoshi is laughing, giving you both a thumbs up.
You had forgotten where you were for a moment – in the middle of a crowded park.
You bow your head as your face burns. “They are very encouraging,” you try to joke.
“Cheering for their new favourite team,” Seokmin says with a grin. “Me too. I’m excited to see what else they get up to.”
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The sigh that rips out from deep within your throat startles the man next to you. You apologise and scurry over to the next aisle.
This is unreasonably large. Who needs this many options when it comes to candy anyway? Rows and rows of varying types of chocolate, candy and snacks line the shelves; a diabetic nightmare.
Candy canes and candy ropes and candy taffy and candy gummies and candy bars and candy bears. Hard candy, soft candy, sour candy. Candy that melts in your mouth and candy that gets stuck in your teeth. How’s a girl to choose?
You let out another sigh. That guy is back. He smiles and nods at you before looking back at the candy options. You frown and turn your back to the stranger. It’s hard enough picking out what you want without feeling judged by some perfectly defined pretty boy.
What is this now? A chicken? A candy chicken? Does it taste like chicken? They really do have everything here. Who wants candy that tastes like chicken? And why is that man looking over here again? He smiles, again, this time with a lazy shrug.
“Incredible, huh?”
You narrow your eyes. “What?”
“The store. It’s huge,” he says with a halfhearted laugh. “Do they have to send in search parties at night?”
“Search parties?”
“To find…. You know? Because it’s so big that people– nevermind.” He brushes his hair back with an awkward grimace.
Great.
Now he’s made it uncomfortable.
He should have just let you talk first. He could at least have enough self-respect to take his losses and move on.
You pick up one of those ridiculous little chicken candies and hold it out for him.
“Here!” You shove it into his hand after he stares at it in confusion for a beat too long. “You can try this.”
“A chicken?” He holds it up toward the fluorescent lights overhead.
“They have packs of them if you want it,” you add pointing toward them. “You think it tastes like candy or…?”
“Or… like a chicken?” He grins and you feel a smile spreading out across your face. “Only one way to find out.”
“Let me know.”
“We can try them together,” he says, grabbing the packaged version.
“What if you hate them?” You jut your hand out to stop him as he grabs a second packet. He looks down at your hand and you pull back.
“Then we’ll just have to come back for something else.” He shrugs. “What else do you want?”
“I’m trying to limit the sugar intake,” you say the words but your body betrays you. You sway toward the other side of the aisle as your line of sight zeroes in on your favourite candy bar.
“This?” He grins as he picks up two of them. “You shouldn’t deny yourself.”
“That’s not–”
“For today,” he speaks over you, “just give in to your urges for one day.”
“Urges?” You quirk a brow and he chuckles. “You’re a bad influence.”
“I try.” He motions toward the exit. “You coming?”
He’s charming and his face makes you want to swoon – a dangerous combination. You should just turn away, run away, and never look back. And yet… and yet now that you’ve had a taste you want more. You follow him to the counter, grabbing a lollipop from the checkout display.
“Sweet tooth, huh?”
“If you’re lucky that won’t be the only thing I’m sucking tonight.”
