(CREDITS TO THE OWNER OF THIS PHOTO: L'OFFICIEL HOMMES MAGAZINE)
A/N’s NOTE: I found this playlist in Youtube concerning the likes of Amy and Laurie from Little Women and I got hit immediately with the feels. I've also thought about Ga-on and Soo-hyun from The Devil Judge (go watch it if you haven't!) in their final moments together and thought why not combine the two and this was the result. Hugest of thank you's to @bookishcatto for reading this. This one-shot is dedicated to ma'am @enaasteria because her stories are absolutely gorgeous and link to her masterlist can be found in my fiction recommends here.
ANOTHER NOTE: I think I'll write my stories based on which seems fitting for the story which is either "You", "She/Her", "GN! Reader" or "OC" and it's not always going to be a "You" or "Y/N" version. Also, throw a tomato at me if this one-shot is cringy AF or something LMAO.
Ratings and Warnings: PG
Characters: Oh Sehun X Seo Jaeun (Cop!OC)
Word Count: 1,636
Date of Publication: 31-12-2021
The thin line of agony and anger snapped at the thunderous slamming of her hands as boiling silence engulfed the two of them. They were at the meeting of their eyes, never swerving to the left nor the right. Those orbs of hers, those lovely visions of expression of hers were now like extinguished flames while he was of a deer caught in the headlights. The air surrounding them was so dry it might have probably cracked everything in them.
Or furthermore fissured her already lacerated heart.
Glassy eyes scrunched eyebrows, and almost bleeding lip from too much biting in holding back, the aching pound of Seo Jaeun’s heart against her chest was beginning to be taken over by fear. The danger was not evident in their zone yet her veins were almost made out of cement from the tension. She let out a controlled yet shaking breath as she refined the words that emanated from Oh Sehun’s mouth before she might explode in tiredness.
“You heard me,” his voice was firm yet at the end was pleading like a child’s.
She sat back from her chair, a scoff passing her lips as her fingers kept brushing on her short disheveled hair. This was at the moment and it was truly happening as if it was a novel of her favorite that came to life and relayed its message in this chapter of her being. Sehun…loves her?
Jaeun looked back into Sehun’s features again; face hoping, lips pursing whilst waiting. This was the man she adoringly gave her heart for so long, the cause of her sadness and happiness, the cause of her downfalls and uprisings, and now, the cause of her topical heartache. Wasn’t this what she wanted all along? To hear those three words she never thought would be aimed at her at him?
But alas, dreams, while they are sweet, some are bitter.
And they must end as she wakes up.
“Fuck you,” she said sternly.
Sehun’s eyebrows raised at the confusion in her words. He was about to retaliate and support his statement but she raised a hand to halt him.
“Fuck you, Oh Sehun,” Jaeun repeated. “Do you think this is all a bluff?”
“I’ve been listening!” she clenched her fists to keep herself from repeating on hitting the table. “At all times! I always listen to you; your rants, your dreams, your thoughts and ideas, and most especially your love for her! But this? THIS? Sehun…you’re mean.”
“Jaeun,” Sehun tried to reach for her hand, but she quickly slipped it away. “I love you, always have been. You were always—”
“If you love me,” she gritted between her teeth. “You shouldn’t have always come to me about her."
Jaeun saw Sehun’s jaw shut tight, which became a cue for her to continue. “Have you ever thought what I’ve felt all these years? I had to keep on carrying you despite the growing pain in me. That yes, I may be here with you but your focus…is on her.”
“And I’m tired,” tears were threatening to spill from her eyes. “I’m sick of picking you up in ungodly hours, drinking away. I’m tired of how you came to meet me only because of your heartaches. And I'm wary of the fact that you're so unfair. That out of nowhere, my best friend just told me he loved me just because he didn't get her.”
Sehun quickly stood from where he sat, his long lower limbs taking two steps before kneeling in front of Jaeun like he was praying for some miracle to happen between them as his warm hands cupped her delicate face, their foreheads touching each other.
“I’m sorry,” Sehun’s eyes were watery as he sniffled. “I’m so sorry. Please…forgive me. Please, let me make it up to you. Please, don’t disappear from my life. Please.”
Please. It was one word yet it made Jaeun feel weak again for him, but the daggers that were plunged in her chest made her realize it was now the time for her to pull it all out, letting her heart slowly heal from the pain.
“I love you, Sehun,” Jaeun finally muttered while feeling Sehun’s thumbs caressing her cheeks. “I love you always but…I’m done. As much as I’ve been waiting to hear those three words from you, it all seems so…dull.”
That’s what Oh Sehun felt right now.
Nothing was making sense to him as if his head was reaching for something he could not comprehend. It all happened too quickly in the blink of an eye like a stream that swiftly passed by him. Blasts of sirens here and there that were rounded up like loose animals were muffled away from his hearing while his surroundings were faded into nothing but black and white.
Along with all he could ever see right now was crimson as thick pools of the color were sticking to the ground, to his shirt, and his hands.
And to her.
He stared dumbfounded. His hands trembled while looking all over Seo Jaeun, desperate to where he should place his palms just to stop the bleeding, to stop everything, to stop the horror that grew before his eyes. Eventually, he placed it where the actual gunshot wound was, hovering over her hand. The shock was not the word that fit what he was experiencing. He was ashen, lips trembling.
“J-Jaeun…” he stuttered. She can only gaze at him as she lay in his arms like a doll.
“Shh….” Jaeun gasped and winced. “Y-you…are…o-okay.”
“N-no…” Sehun looked up and down her body. “Jaeun…”
Sehun’s manner was disoriented; he kept holding back his sobs while glancing at her face and up around their environment; almost nobody was there except the two of them, save for a few who were held in their frozen states.
How the hell did they end up to this?
A presidential event where EXO was invited.
Turned into a horrific attempted assassination incident with a bomb on the loose.
Her clasping his hand, her sole concern was him.
Just the two of them.
Away from aid and surrounded by perpetrators.
Her pushing him to the ground…
Jaeun suddenly fell to her knees.
Clutching her right side and chest.
Him shouting at her.
More guns erupting from afar…
Him reaching her….
Sehun immediately looked down at the fading body he held; Jaeun's eyes fluttered up at him, trying to see him. Her form shook in pain as if a thousand syringes were plummeted in her skin, her hand pressing against where the blood continued to ooze out of her while she breathed heavily in panic.
Jaeun hazily lifted her shaking hand, steadily brushing her fingers against his cheek which received a cut from the glasses that spread throughout the vicinity.
“F-Fuck…” she still managed to laugh. “Y-you…got a c-cut here...ah.”
She shut her eyes and grimaced as Sehun clasp her soaked shirt, and he felt like shit; his best friend was in the line between life and death, still having the audacity to save him despite everything that conspired to the two of them.
And he felt nothing but remorseful as he’s incapable of providing anything to her at the moment.
“P-please,” Sehun choked. “W-we…we h-have to stop the b-bleeding. S-stay…s-stay with m-me baby, please.”
Tears flooded Sehun’s eyes as he tried to keep himself together for her sake. His heart felt like it was twisted and crushed to a pulp, wishing he had been the one shot instead of her. His body flew from stiff to mere actions and having more blood of hers in his hands got him to nowhere. Sehun knew that this was an almost everyday scenario for Jaeun on account of the fact she became a woman of law and order. What he wasn’t prepared for was to have this kind of scenario happen right in front of him.
“W-why…” Jaeun started. “S-stop...don’t c-cry…”
Sehun pay heed to her as she inhaled and exhaled deeply, her eyes threatening to shut down. The coldness of the night was creeping up to her as blood continued to rush out as Sehun tried to talk to her to keep her awake. He frantically hoisted his head to check the encircling, surveying for anyone possible to help them as he hauled Jaeun in his arms more properly.
“Jaeun…” Sehun whispered her name, attempting to keep a smile. “W-we’re going to…b-be o-okay, y-yes? P-paramedics may b-be here s-soon…”
Despite his aim to put up a brave front for Jaeun, it soon faltered as her eyes were only halfway from open, and she eye him intently. Sehun took ahold of her hand gently moving towards his hand, firmly grasping it.
“No!” Sehun yelled as he shook his head. “H-help will b-be h-here! T-they’ll….they’ll c-come soon! P-please! We’ll b-be a-alright! Jaeun—”
“S-Sehun…” Jaeun panted as if her breathing had already amounted to a small-sized helium balloon about to pop. “I love you.”
His world frailly crumbled as Jaeun’s hand lost its seize of his fist as her head tilted backward in his arms.
With her eyes now closed.
Moments later, shouts and footsteps were heard coming, revealing members of the Seoul Metropolitan Agency and the Special Operations Unit, their guns and other aid holding out. They ceased and halted their steps at the scene that unfolded before them. Blood was everywhere that came from its root which was Jaeun’s now lifeless form. One of the men who entered stepped up, his expression glum as he raised his walkie-talkie.
"Commander," he said "Lieutenant Seo Jaeun...she's now gone."
And it was followed by the gut-wrenching wails of Sehun who lost someone so dear.
Hello, my name is Jace, you can go follow me in my personal tumblr if you wish besides here, as this is just my writting/imagine account in which I would upload everything I write, from little blurbs and random texts to whole fanfics and imagines.
I'm the only one running this blog and it's honestly my first time doing this so please understand, I do this only for fun and because I can't find writting works of some of my favorite characters or artists as I follow many who aren't the most popular.
| WHAT FANDOMS DO I WRITE FOR SO FAR |
- K-POP in general, from 90's KPOP to nowadays KPOP, but with a special focus on second and third gen bands unless requested because that's the years most of my favs are from.
- ANIME in general, although so far I have only watched NARUTO and NARUTO SHIPPUDEN.
| IF YOU WANT TO REQUEST YOU MUST |
- Tell me the name of the artist, show, movie or character you want me to write about and the fandom they belong to (in case I don't know them)
- Let me know what type of writting you want, if gender non specific, female, or male. If you want a WLW or MLM work, I am queergender so this is a safe space to read about anything from anyone.
- Let me know about if you want me to write specifically the work with a person of color, any race is valid, you all are welcomed and respected here.
- Let me know if you want the character to be abled body or not in the writting work, again, everyone is welcomed to sugest any writing.
- Give me a bit of a description on how is their personality (in case I don't know them or because sometimes we see people differently)
- Let me know if you have some trigger to not add them to the writting work.
- Let me know what genre you would like, as what type of story plot you're looking for me to write (smut, fluff, action, horror...).
- If you want an IMAGINE, ONE SHOT, a BLURB, AN SCENARIO,...
| DO'S & DON'TS |
- I DON'T write smut for underage characters or ships that are wrong (incest, abusive or toxic)
- I DO write stories with possible TW
- I DO write abusive/toxic relationships but ALWAYS portrayed as something bad and wrong.
- I DO write about mental health issues but NEVER in a way of the protagonist fixing it within one writting work.
Authors note: This came out of nowhere and it really hurt to write, sorry in advance!
“I think we should end this.”
You stared at him blankly, face void of emotion. Not entirely sure you’d heard him correctly and not wanting to respond in case you said the wrong thing.
“See, even now, you don’t have anything to say.”
You blink your eyes, forcing the tears to stay hidden and look down.
“You really don’t have anything to say? Shit, Y/N. Do I mean that little to you?”
“What am I supposed to say?” you manage to ask softly.
“Ask me why? Ask me to stay? Something! Anything!”
“But if you’ve already made up your mind, what can I do about it? I won’t make you stay with me if you don’t want to.” you sigh.
He laughs dryly.
“I fucking love you, you know that? But you’ve built this wall around yourself and you won’t let anyone in, not even me. I waited for you. I was so patient, more patient than I’ve ever been for anything in my life. I guess I wasn’t enough.”
With your vision still glued to the floor beneath you, tears welling at your eyes and threatening to spill, you nod your head once to let him know you heard what he said.
You give him a small shake of your head.
He suddenly grabs your shoulders and shakes you.
His index and thumb gently grasp your chin and try to lift your face up.
“Look at me.”
You refuse to budge but he’s not giving up. He still wants to fight for you, he just needs you to give him something, anything. A sign that you want him too. His last ditch attempt to hold on to you.
“Please, just look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re okay with this.”
Inhaling a deep breath, you slowly turn your head upwards to look at him.
His eyes flicker back and forth between your own, searching for the slightest hint of something. Love. Sadness. Fuck, even if they were happy, relieved even. Anything.
But you were good at this. You put on your mask, let your eyes glaze over. Locking away the windows to your soul. You stared back at him, waiting for him to give up like you knew he already had.
Sehun sighed. His hand dropping from its hold on your face.
“Fuck. You really are heartless.”
Funny how when he said that, said organ squeezed inside your chest.
No more words said as he gave you a final, longing stare. His usual cool-guy exterior now visibly broken, replaced with a sad aura, heartbreak in his eyes.
He turned away from you and walked away. Away from you and out of your life.
It shouldn’t hurt this much. You knew it was coming. You knew this would happen.
I’ve been missing this fic a lot, and some of your lovely asks have reminded me that I should be making more progress on this, more intentionally. As such, here is a ~6kish word preview of the first section of Act III. This will be taken down once the full third act is complete and edited, but since it will still take me some time to finish, I figured a partial update is better than none.
There are still approximately 6-7 main plot points (with several subscenes) left to write; this preview section constitutes only 2 main plot points I wanted to cover.
Please do engage with me and let me know what you think. Hearing from you has been very helpful in encouraging me to get this work past the finish line, and I hope you drop by with a DM, comment, or ask even if it’s just to say you’re still going to read the finished product (lol)!
No header images in this preview; I just wanted to get something out there for you guys to read ASAP. Thank you endlessly for your patience! Unedited; final version might differ slightly.
Your eyes trace up the length of his arm. Alabaster, smooth skin covers obvious muscle, and you marvel at the human form. Sehun is doing nothing but cutting a slab of pork belly into more manageable pieces, and yet you cannot help but see him as statuesque and elegant in spite of the way he tentatively, but carefully, holds his knife.
“What would Kyungsoo say?” Tongue clicking, you pretend to scold him the way one of your college friends would. The older man is here for a personal visit, with family in tow, but both you and Sehun know he’s driven all the way across Los Angeles in search of an elusive dessert to bring back for dinner. Culinary connoisseur, Kyungsoo has hovered over (under, or rather, near) Sehun’s shoulder many a gathering, urging his junior to pinch the blade with a gentle reminder. Sehun’s stubbornness always wins out, though, as he prefers the handle grip over blade. (‘I’m not going fast,’ Sehun always plaintively chides. ‘And I’m not cutting a lot!’)
“Kyungsoo isn’t here, is he?” Sehun lifts up the knife, fingers tightening around the handle with thumb firmly behind the bolster. You watch in rapt fascination as tendons glide over bone in the back of his hand; you’ve always loved his hands, finding them equal parts capable of holding your heart and perfect for many other ministrations.
“What would Kyungsoo’s partner say?” The banter comes as a challenge. You have him trapped there, when you pointedly tilt your wineglass towards the dining room where she’s busy laying out the side dishes she brought from the Do house. She, too, is an excellent cook, but your threat is empty — unlike her spouse, she is less particular about Sehun’s knife skills.
The snicks against beautiful butcher block stop abruptly. You look up, surprised by the sudden silence.
“I missed this,” Sehun says, looking you directly in the eye with his face set to an expressionless mask.
Your eyebrows wrinkle together in amusement. “What, being roasted by the love of your life instead of hanging out in zero-gravity?”
The lack of response speaks volumes, but the sheepish turn away says even more. It’s cute when he hides his face like this, out of cringeworthy secondhand embarrassment or shy exposure and the like. He’s always been cute, though you wonder if you’re biased by a near-decade of being enamored with his very essence. Over the years you’ve both grown and changed, physically and mentally, horizontally and vertically, but Sehun’s appeal has been constant throughout each change.
He allows your words to marinate in the kitchen air, mingling with the aroma of freshly minced green onions and ginger, as well as the latest box of kimchi his mother so lovingly made for you (though she certainly made too much, most of which still rests in the kimchi fridge in the garage. That, too, was a gift from his family, as if to preempt the impromptu vegetable drop-offs). Soft gasps of lipped food containers reach your ears from the dining table as Kyungsoo’s wife opens their lids. The input becomes too much, all the data flooding your senses.
It’s not like anything is different, not like there’s any stimuli you really need to respond to. You’ve watched Sehun cook in the kitchen countless of times, and vice versa. You’ve had the Dos over for dinner at least once a month when Kyungsoo swings by the Valley for business. There’s nothing new in the kitchen, no new appliances with new sounds to register, no fancy renovations for Shaker cabinetry or white tile backsplashes. There is only Sehun, and routine, and the comfort of intimacy that extends beyond skin.
“I’m going to miss this,” he says now, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “All of this.”
It doesn’t take much to understand that ‘this’ means everything you’re taking in, and more. Stolen moments of domesticity and simple bliss will be few and far between in a matter of months when Sehun is whisked back to Florida for the longest mission of his life. (A niggling, irritating voice in the depths of your mind worries that ‘longest’ might actually measure out to ‘forever,’ but you push those thoughts down when you notice Sehun’s expression tugging downward into forlorn anticipation).
You jump down from your stool, quickly ducking around the kitchen counter to close the distance between your souls.
“Hey,” you wedge yourself between his body and the counter as Sehun sets down the knife. His now-free hand smooths down the plane of your back, both for his emotional comfort and yours, but also to make sure your shirt doesn’t billow out onto the raw meat. “Don’t you worry about that,” you reach up to grasp his soft cheeks in your palms. “You’ll get these moments back, in spades, and then some. Maybe I’ll have finally found a contractor I like to get the kitchen redone, and then we’ll have a new…” Your voice falters as you stare into the depths of his eyes. “…a new… all of this.”
He nods against your fingertips, peach fuzz delighting your nerve endings. You can feel a bit of his daily stubble growing back, and it’s the sensation of touch that shoots a pang of misery into your stomach when you realize that you, too, will miss the blessing of proximity.
Sehun stiffens against you, straightening his spine and adopting a look of determination across his gentle features. “O-kay!” He cheers with the energy of a little boy, voice coming out choppy and thrown to sound cute. He knows what his weapons are, and he knows every one of your soft spots. Bolstered by your encouragement, he shoos you out from beneath his frame and resumes his slicing with reinvigorated motivation. A part of you is happy to see his mood restored, but another part of you keenly feels the loss of warmth as you’re ushered back to the opposite end of the kitchen counter.
“One giant pot of kimchi-jjim, coming right up!” He pauses, then glances up at the clock. “I mean, in an hour!”
“And that’s why we brought dishes,” Kyungsoo’s wife laughs as she enters the kitchen, though the beautiful sound fades when she notices the strange, spacey look on your face. “I don’t think Kyungsoo will be happy to wait that long after driving back from Porto’s.”
You compose yourself, giving her a slight smile to thank her for jarring you from your reverie. “I told him to start earlier!,” you whine, throwing an arm around her shoulder and wandering towards the awaiting dinner table. Behind you, Sehun sticks his tongue out at your back — you don’t turn to look, but you expect he’s doing something of the sort, and your guess is precisely on the mark.
Early November 2020, Los Angeles, California
You wake in your bed, goosebumps traveling up your arms before you grapple blindly for your robe. A strangled gasp forces its way from your throat, and you reach for your face — it feels like your fingers move in slow motion, and it takes you a length of time for you to register the moisture at your fingertips as tears. Nausea waves over you, fueled by a strange feeling you can only describe as a horrific manifestation of loss and longing.
It’s not the most pleasant to be served dreams that are not fiction, but rather memory. The dark creature of worry that now lives inside you stirs awake, sending a surge of panic up your spine and making your mind for you. Something is going to go wrong, the creature whispers, you need to be there.
Where? You ask it, but you know the answer already. Your fingers tap at a saved number on your phone you’ve never called; ‘emergencies only’ they’d told you when you noted the digits.
Somehow, your body takes over while your mind whirls through every possible worst-case scenario. When your brain finally decides to release you from your prison of anxiety and communicates with your body once more, you look down to see your hands poised over a laptop keyboard, the screen opened to an emailed flight confirmation for a one-way ticket to Houston.
Mid-November 2020, Mars, near Arsia Mons
Sehun leans over the tiny brushed-metal basin that functions as his bathroom sink, observing himself in the semi-useful (read: useless) mirror that adorns the wall above it. It’s not a fantastic mirror, made of reflective, polished metal, rather than glass, but he appreciates the safety feature nonetheless.
Lean, dry fingers tug against the skin on his face; one cheek, then the other. He’s mildly grateful he got laser hair removal right before entering pre-conditioning, as it’s saved his chin from developing too much of a space scruff. He turns one cheek towards the mirror — it’s sunken in; he’s gaunt, despite his best efforts to maintain his caloric regimen — something about Mars burns more of his energy than he realizes.
He’d taken inventory as soon as the messages came in from Mission Control in early October; he had approximately 60 days of emergency food left after his primary rations would dry up by the end of October — this had been planned, as the SpaceX shipment of new equipment and supplies had been initially slated to land by mid-October at latest. With the change in trajectory, however, he would need to take the next two-odd weeks traveling to the new rendezvous point in Gale Crater, where he would set up base using the container from SpaceX as his new home. But to traverse the planet, he would need to cut down his rations by a considerable amount — the rover could only fit so much within it, and that was with leaving many samples behind in his lab.
It was anything but ideal. The equipment chamber that would land on Mars was intended only for storage and science, not living. It would be approximately the same size as his current abode, but filled with nearly three times as much stuff — therefore less space for him to live. In the least, it had been prepared for suitless human occupation as a secondary research facility, and secondly as an precaution were he to be trapped in the research bunker during a dust storm with no time to reach his regular home base. If Sehun added that knowledge to the reality that he’d have to live in his RV-equivalent research vessel (the Tank, as he now preferred to call it), he had to surmise that he, in fact, was fucked.
He turns his other cheek, furrowing his brows and glaring at the scowling face in the mirror. Sehun doesn’t like what he sees; who he sees. Whoever’s looking back at him is haggard, exhausted, and only a shell of the sprightly young spaceman who landed after a six-month ISS stint not three years before. But he doesn’t feel like the man in the mirror; he’s scared, yes, but this is his life’s work — his dream — his everything, except for you. The image in the mirror doesn’t match how he feels inside, and the sight shocks him every time he gazes into his own eyes. Sighing, he turns away from the mirror and slides the impossibly small door that leads to the bathroom as he exits it. Even he’s not sure how he’s survived this far with an economy-class airplane bathroom, but life will find a way, he supposes.
Dim, yellowed lights glow from the corners of his base, following him through his path towards the main living space of his room — not that there’s anything accurate about the words “living” or “space” anymore. Boxes upon boxes are strewn apart the room, with a few atop his semi-comfortable cot. Some are labeled, some are not; the labeled ones will come with him in the Tank and the rest will be left behind to erode, much like Chanyeol’s old base somewhere on the other side of the planet.
It’s weird to be saying goodbye to his Martian home already, and even weirder because his mission isn’t over.
He pauses. He has to survive the next month first -- maybe the mission isn’t the highest immediate priority, but it’s hard for him to feel that way even in the face of danger.
Narrowed eyes gloss over lead-insulated duffel bags stuffed with hastily processed hard drives and triple-layered plastic bags filled with Martian terrain. The hard drives are less important than the specimens; the majority of what’s on the hard drives has been sent back to Earth in summaries.
Sehun’s eyes scan to his cot next, where he observes piles of high-calorie, vacuum-sealed biscuits and the remainder of his meals, emergency and planned. He might have to tap into the emergency supply if the trip over to Gale Crater results in a few detours, but he’s semi-confident that the route he and NASA have planned will be straightforward.
There’s a small part of him that’s excited for the adventure ahead, even though he knows his real mission is on pause, and that this excursion is not one for science. But he knows no other man has had the opportunity (or otherwise, morbid motivation) to traverse nearly 6000 kilometers on another planet. Sure, he won’t be spending most of that time gawking at Mars, but at the rather slow rate of 17km/h he expects to take navigating the Martian terrain, he knows he’ll have much to look at.
“16 hours a day seems a bit optimistic,” Mission Control texts him, but Sehun manages to win over his superiors by mentioning that his original plan was to chunk each day into segments perforated by only two REM cycles. He’s not sure if they’re worried about a sleep-deprived astronaut destroying a billion-dollar investment by mistake, or if they’re worried about his health (probably both, he surmises), but Mission Control eventually comes around to his proposal of a 16-hour workday, driving nearly 300km/daily for the next three weeks.
Perhaps it is optimistic. But that’s what Sehun is, because he’s too scared to find out what happens if he loses hope.
Mid-November 2020, Los Angeles, California
“I’m going to Houston,” you announce to a room of shocked, pained faces — but everyone quickly settles their expressions into those of understanding. “Jongin, can you housesit?”
His voice is tentative. “I can,” he says. “But are you sure you want to be there? We can help support you if you’re in L.A.” Next to Jongin, Junmyeon and his wife nod enthusiastically in agreement; his wife strokes the hair of their daughter in her lap, as their daughter hides away from the apparent stress on your face.
“I know that,” you almost snap, but stop yourself right before and make sure to correct your tone. “But who’s going to support Sehun?” Your voice cracks against your will and you reach blindly for an ottoman to sit on. Jongin quickly reaches out to push one closer to you. He notices as you glance at Sehun’s jacket, still draped over the couch, though now arranged differently as you’ve been picking it up for comfort all week.
You can’t support him from here. You can text him, of course, but you can’t sit idly by a console, waiting for confirmation of either triumph or failure, waiting for any sort of news from NASA or Sehun himself. No — you need to know what NASA knows in real-time, if only so you can stay strong for Sehun through the security of being armed with knowledge.
You’re not sure, though, that the security will will really feel like it. What happens if Control bursts to life with alerts and lights ablaze, engineers fretting over a complication? What will you do when bad news comes to you faster than the information can be screened through your NASA liaison, when it comes raw and real and unscrubbed? Even Sehun can’t relay emergencies directly to you quickly enough; his data is only as good as what’s on-the-ground in front of him and what can make it all the way back to Earth. But NASA, with their birds-eye view, can figure out what’s happening at once, sans 8-minute delay, and for that reason alone you know you need to be at Mission Control.
When the offer was extended to you days ago, you hadn’t hesitated to say yes. It was clear to you that sitting at home would be impossible until you knew Sehun was safe, and the opportunity to understand Sehun’s predicament directly was one you couldn’t miss.
Your shoulders now fall as you tuck your arms into yourself and try to make yourself smaller. “I know —” your voice catches in your throat. “I know that it’ll be stressful. I know that… that I might learn the worst right as it happens. But I have to be there to understand what’s happening to him. I have to be able to talk to him about anything without having to wait for NASA to explain his situation to me.”
The living room falls silent. The others all know what you mean. Kyungsoo’s partner gets up from her seat, placing her hands on your shoulders for a quick squeeze. They all understand that you have to go to Houston prepared to learn that Sehun might not have made it; that it may all come to an end while you are away from their care and their love.
“Call us as soon as you need anything — no matter what, no matter when, okay?”
You nod, clutching your arms to yourself tighter, and lean into your friends’ embrace.
Mid-to-Late November 2020, Mars, near Arsia Mons
Loading equipment and rations into the Tank is no small feat, what with Mars’ unfortunate gravity and for the arduous, annoying effort of sanitizing in the airlock every ‘trip to the car.’ It’s the worst grocery run Sehun has ever been on, and he’s been to bulk goods warehouses with you — so it’s saying a lot.
It takes him two days to get everything loaded and all remaining local data shipped off into the stars towards Earth, and it’s all rather anticlimactic in the end. There’s no real good-bye, no sign-off as he closes the airlock to his base from the outside for the last time. At best he gives it a bit of a salute before clambering up into the body of the Tank and pressurizing the cabin.
He pulls off most of the protective suit; he only plans to wear it when he’s sitting in the cockpit under the windows where the Sun will inevitably get to him. But when he bunkers down in the back, two thick layers of protective walling deep, he has to make himself as compact as possible.
He’s MacGyvered the fabric of his old cot across the top of a stack of his equipment; everything is secured into place with shelves bolted to the walls of his space RV-Jeep—thing so the Tank can maneuver around roadblocks or traverse steep inclines. It takes a bit of adjustment to get used to, but Sehun figures out the best way to clamber up to the faintly claustrophobic sleeping alcove he’s made for himself (stepping on the hard drive duffel bags seems to work better than the slippery boxes of MREs), and he straps himself in every night.
The crawlspace isn’t much at all; only 24 inches in height, and only just long enough to fit his whole body, but it beats trying to sleep out in the driver’s seat, which doesn’t recline for safety and spatial reasons.
He closes his eyes to thoughts of you every night, clutching that small square of fabric as his overtaxed, overstressed brain forces him to bed.
November 29, 2020, Houston, Texas
The first thing you notice about Mission Control are the tense jaws worn by every engineer you meet. It’s not a good sign, but you are somewhat comforted by the fact that everyone looks just as worried as you do. They get it, you think, they understand the gravity of this all.
It’s not true, of course, because while they are just as invested in Sehun’s survival as you are, they are not nearly as invested in Sehun. To them, he is an important asset and colleague, perhaps the hope of space exploration at best. To you, he is your presently missing half. You know you can pick up the pieces of your shattered self eventually should he not return (you shudder at the mere thought), but it will be a long and arduous process that you’d rather not endure.
Here you’re able to type directly into a terminal that sends messages to Sehun; the delay is more or less the same (being at Mission Control saves you a few milliseconds; transmitting his messages from Mission Control to your home computer is the trivial part of their journey), but something about being one fewer jumps away from him helps. A little. Not much, but it’s better than nothing. The fact that nobody offers you platitudes or empty comfort is also strangely nice — it feels like you’re all suffering together, your muscles all clenched in the same, tightly-wound anxiety.
The problem with Mission Control is that this static, buzzing energy of tension permeates every corridor, every glance, every single action taken in the cavernous building. You know the feeling too well, and while its familiarity brings some satisfaction, you are all-too-aware that it’s the energy of a tipping point. At home, you are shielded from this livewire energy and separated from it by physical distance and a computer screen. But here you are a part of it, and your own nails-bitten-to-the-quick worry adds to the the aggregate concern. You and everyone else in the room have the same wishes: you hope that the invisible threshold is never crossed, that no more news pushes past that tipping point.
Hope, you learn, is a fickle mistress. She prevents you from moving on, instead holding you to her breast and whispering small comforts until you are pulled into the purgatory of not knowing, but not ignoring. Sehun is slated to reach Gale Crater in two days; the shipment of supplies is in orbit and everything seems to be on track. It seems too good to be true, but you find yourself wishing and praying to the cosmos that you might be able to hold onto your hope. You struggle with your relationship with hope nonetheless; knowing that the more you have the more any bad news will hurt. But day after day (for a full two weeks) of no change in Mission Control’s frenetic, constant energy allows you to cultivate more hope — it’s dangerous, you know, but you think you might go insane without it.
When the energy changes in a split second, you correct yourself — you think you were destined to lose your mind and sense of reality by holding onto false hopes.
The room changes so quickly you don’t have time to understand what’s happening — there are sharp beeps and barks and loud shouts and flashing screens, flickering lights, mathematicians and physicists scrambling to their notepads and MacBooks to figure something out. But what, what? You cry out internally, because your scream in Mission Control would have gone unheard above the din anyway, but you cry out to anyone in the universe who will listen nonetheless. You need answers, answers that the engineers are still trying to suss out, and the wait is torture. At the edges of the room you clutch at the sides of your chair, trying to make sense of the calculations and images flashing on the many screens lining the far wall. Your ears try to block out the flurry of activity, but the roaring is too intense to screen out.
A firm hand lands on your shoulder, and you recognize its owner as one of Sehun’s mission facilitators; the director is elsewhere, presumably leaning over a physicist’s screen trying to understand why the room is in a sudden panic.
“It’s a lot of input in here,” the man says, voice gruff. His thick mustache barely moves as he speaks. “Come with me.”
Your feet carry you, though every step makes you feel as though you are made of lead.
He leads you to a relatively quiet conference room; you can still hear the shouts and beeps and keyboard clacks from the other side of the door, but it is thankfully muffled. The man strides across the room to fetch you a cup of hot water.
“Please,” your voice comes out weaker than you’ve ever heard it. “What’s happened?”
The facilitator meets your eyes, but his gaze is downcast. “We don’t know for sure yet,” he pauses. “But it looks like a large storm is approaching the proposed drop site — we’d been monitoring it, but something changed its path. It’s speeding towards Gale Crater now, instead of missing it by a few hundred kilometers, and we’ll lose contact with both Sehun and the shipment in the drop zone.”
A lump conquers your throat and renders you speechless. Your eyes try to form tears, but you freeze in your seat instead. The facilitator takes one of your blinks as a question: what does that mean for Sehun?
“It’s not looking too great,” he admits. “It’s not the worst storm we’ve noticed on the planet, so assuming nothing else goes wrong, the rocket should be able to land using completely local instructions, without contact with Mission Control.”
“But?” Your voice cracks.
“But it’s a big risk. There are no human pilots on board; there’s nobody to manually ensure that it lands correctly. If it weren’t a matter of rations or death, we might have been able to try it, but we need to make sure the food isn’t blown up upon impact. We won’t be able to tell where exactly it lands if it goes even minorly off-course, and we won’t be able to let Sehun know, either.”
You open your mouth to ask another question, but the door slams open as a harried-looking engineer calls for the facilitator. She nods at you, waving at you both frantically. “You’re going to want to see this,” she says breathlessly, and then the doorway is clear. The facilitator is hot on her heels with you not far behind, and you rush back to the main control room.
“Sir, we tried telling him that we can still attempt the drop-off; the math might work out, this storm doesn’t seem to have speeds high enough to really interfere with the thrusters—”
A woman who looks infinitely more severe than the facilitator who comforted you snatches a clipboard from the claws of a nearby scientist. She flips through the equations and predictions hand-scrawled onto the sheets, knowing the chicken scratch was supported by complex mathematical models run through one of the more powerful supercomputers. Her lips purse, and she hands the clipboard back.
The scientist points at the row of screens, where the upper right quadrant of screens has been programmed to blow up the size of Sehun’s messages.
<<< OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE; OH, SEHUN: DO NOT DROP SHIPMENT OUT OF ORBIT
“What the hell is he thinking?” The female director mutters under her breath, echoing the same sentiment that thunders internally between your ears. She quickly strides over to a terminal, its resident engineer immediately swiveling away in their chair to give the director space.
>>> OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE: NOT AN OPTION. ESTIMATED DURATION OF STORM 6 WEEKS; RATION CALCULATIONS BASED ON LAST REPORT INSUFFICIENT
November 29, 2020 Mars, near Gale Crater
Sehun glances behind him, then mutters a few disdainful curses into the void. “Like I don’t know that,” he glowers, his mind running through his ration inventory for the thousandth time that day.
Food, unfortunately, has been almost all he’s been thinking about for weeks. Sure, he portioned out his remaining spare rations rather well, but the food he’s eating is not nearly enough to sustain a man as tall as him for long — even with how thin he’s become. But he grits his teeth, forcing himself to think about something else as he estimates the chances of death for either of his options.
Attempt to land the shipment in a dust storm and it’s likely the food will be lost to the dunes forever, imploded upon impact. Keep it in the (lack of) atmosphere in orbit for a bit longer, and gamble for another chance at a viable landing — and eat one half less cracker a day, hoping that an opening appears. He chews at his inner lip, the action reminding him of gum and providing temporary relief from his hunger.
<<< OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE; OH, SEHUN: RATIONS ADJUSTED; ENOUGH TO WAIT OUT STORM
It’s a lie, of course. Approximately a month and a half of normally-portioned rations lay abandoned in his old basecamp; he could only bring enough for three weeks with him on the rover. He’d been stretching those portions as thinly as he could, but operating the vehicle and dealing with the stress of navigating uneven terrain prevented Sehun from eating only crumbs each day. He was somewhat grateful that the physical strain of donning his safety suit and brushing electromagnetic dust from the rover treads forced him to indulge in at least a few bites of food daily — meager bites were better than nothing. But every bite he took was another bite he wouldn’t have in the future. He pushes those thoughts away now; he knows you’re in Houston, watching his messages at the other end, and the last thing he wants is for you to understand the full truth of his situation.
He’ll tell you someday, he thinks, later on when his feet are back on Californian soil and this ordeal is well behind him. But for now, he estimates he can — somehow — make his last two weeks’ worth of food last him 6. His meals will be on the order of two bites each, but.. it’s entirely possible. It’s at least something he can control, something he can estimate for himself.
The viability of landing a very necessary shipment correctly in a dust storm is something else entirely. Not only can he not control it, but he knows exactly how bad things are. Unlike the unmanned Mars Rovers, his food cannot simply be dropped from the sky and padded with inflatables; the shipment is too heavy and he needs to live out of the container that the food will arrive in — a single dent might leave him truly for dead, and one bounce too hard might send all of his food flying, never to be found underneath a fresh layer of Martian dust. No — the shipment must be landed with fuel-intensive retro rockets, thrusters gently lowering the equipment. A dust storm would interfere with the rocket’s ability to communicate with Mission Control, jeopardizing the landing.
Too risky, Sehun concludes. At least eating less per day isn’t as big of a gamble.
>>> OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE: FUEL RESERVES MAY NOT HOLD
Irritated, Sehun holds back from sending a highly workplace-inappropriate retort. He knows the fuel situation isn’t great; the rocket spent nearly eight months traveling from Earth. Of course it’s in the last leg, using the last bit of estimated fuel, and that’s including contingency supplies and redundancies. But he’s down here and Mission Control is up there, teeming with a small swarm of the world’s best astrophysicists. It’s their job to calculate everything, and to make the fuel supply work. If the rocket is held in orbit at a good height, somewhere between the heights of the two Martian moons Deimos and Phobos, then perhaps enough fuel might be conserved to nudge the rocket out of orbit with minimal thrust, with plenty left over to land once the coast was clear.
So he ignores this warning, hoping that the engineers scrambling around in Houston take the hint and figure it out.
<<< OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE; OH, SEHUN: ESTIMATED CONTACT WITH STORM?
He can imagine the director’s face now; her lips are probably pressed into a thin line, asshole clenched with the full force of bureaucratic panic, and the image makes him laugh despite his present situation.
>>> OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE: STORM TO ARRIVE AT GALE CRATER IN FOUR DAYS, CONTACT WITH ROVER IN FOUR TO SIX DAYS
<<< OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE; OH, SEHUN: LAND SHIPMENT AT FIRST OPPORTUNITY; SEND COORDINATES PROMPTLY
Four days is not enough to outrun the storm, but it is enough to get Sehun situated better along Gale Crater such that any emergency trips he may need to make will require little to no energy, using Mars’ meager gravity to carry his science tank somewhat downhill. He pores over the tiny terminal, sighing as he tries to adjust his tired bones and get more comfortable (he knows it’s futile; living out of this vehicle for the past few weeks on his solo trek across this lonelier planet has taught him that there is no such thing as comfort in a non-reclinable seat).
I’ll just make it work, Sehun thinks. He sighs and glances back at his dwindling supply of food, his mind wandering to your homemade pasta and his mother’s incessant supply of kimchi. His stomach rumbles much in the same fashion it has been since he left home base and set off for Gale Crater.
All things considered, he’s doing alright, he tells himself. And it’s true; he’s traveled farther in distance than any of the unmanned Rovers have simply because he doesn’t need individual instructions from Mission Control to move a few feet. He’s literally done what no man has done before, and — if he survives this ordeal — he might just get to brag about it someday.
Sehun squares his shoulders and stretches his neck from side to side, preparing himself for another long, bumpy, and precarious ride across the Martian surface. He checks all of his equipment and types off a brief report to Houston. Then, before setting off, his fingers hover over the small terminal one last time. He doesn’t switch to the separate line this time, primarily because he’s tired and achey and his heart has endured enough stress this past day (hell, year) to last him a lifetime. His mind registers the notion that what he sends will be visible, blown up across several giant screens, in front of a room full of his colleagues.
<<< OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE; OH, SEHUN: TELL MY WIFE I LOVE HER
Maybe it sounds a bit like a goodbye. Maybe it’ll end up being one. Either way, Sehun musters up the last of his energy to send this message, then puts the terminal in low-power mode so he can continue towards Gale Crater.
November 29, 2020, Houston, Texas
Your hand flies to your mouth. Half the room turns to glance at you, a few scientists catching a glint of light bouncing from your engagement ring. You’re not his wife — not yet. Had he not flown such an incredible distance away from you, you might have been his wife by now, a year’s worth of wedding planning and cake tasting and seating arrangements behind you. But that was not the reality you lived in.
His failure to address you correctly worries you and encourages you in one fell swoop; did he make the mistake because he’s hungry and delirious, possibly inches from death? Or was it intentional, a way of telling you what you mean to him, a way of conveying how he sees you and how you’ve kept him company in his isolation? Or — was this a cry for help, a glimpse into his fear?
A thousand implications race through your mind and the weight of all of them, good and bad, pushes on your shoulders. Your legs give out, and someone has the sense to quickly roll a chair over for you to collapse into. Someone else rolls you towards a terminal.
Every press of your finger against a key feels incredibly loud and impossibly long, but you manage to string together a coherent set of words.
>>> OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE: YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE IT. I’M RIGHT THERE WITH YOU
You’re not sure who you’re comforting at this point, but you figure that you both probably need it.
Genre: non-idol!AU, chaebol!AU, angst, drama, slice of life, friendship
Characters: OC (Choi Seoyeon), Oh Sehun, and many others.
Word count: 1.3k words
Remorse [/rəˈmôrs/] : feeling of deep regret or guilt
A/N: Sorry for going MIA for a while- I was quite busy with work and family. And since this is update is very short even though it's been a while, I promise to update the next chapter soon!
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It had been a week since then; I did not contact Sehun at all, nor did Sehun tried to contact me. I suppose Sehun really did not need me any longer, not when he had Joohyun now. It hurt a lot when I realized that I was probably just used as a rebound by him. No one was there by his side when he broke up with Aeri except me, and just like what Jongdae said months ago, he became too clingy with me, yet I did not notice that I had taken his bait just like that. It hurt so fucking much that I could not stop crying that night at the airport, and almost made Junmyeon postponed his flight to the USA- especially after I told him of Sehun’s little confession before he came to the rescue. I did not let him do that just because of my cries, of course, although in the end his parents and Jongdae did come along to my house to help explain things to my parents and brother of what happened, and also to ease Junmyeon’s worry over me. Still, I could not help but to cry myself to sleep that night, and the nights after.
It was only three days after that, when I started to get numb to the feeling, and tried to focus on the impending final revisions of my thesis to distract my mind of what happened. It worked until now, when unexpectedly, a call came from Bae Joohyun. I also had not contacted Joohyun since the incident at the airport- although it had nothing to do with her. Well, okay, it did, but nothing directly damaged my friendship with her, because she was in the dark of all this anyway. All that she knew was Sehun was a close friend of mine, just like she was to me, and period. It was not easy though, because like I said, my heartache both had something and nothing to do with her.
“Hey, Hyun, what’s up?” I answered the call in the end. “Get ready, I’m picking you up in half an hour,” she told me without further explanation. I choked on nothing, “What?”
“You heard me Yeon; you and I both know that we need a small break from thesis,” she reasoned, “So we’re having girls time tonight,” she said again. I scrunched my nose, I did need a small break from everything, although somewhat preferably not with her. But then again, she was in the dark of everything. “I can’t say no, can I?”
“Where are we going by the way?” I sighed, knowing that I could not deny her request no matter what. “Probably Hongdae, I still haven’t had the chance to go to that Harry Potter themed café.” Well, that was a temptation. I huffed, “Fine, see you later,” we hung up the call.
And that was how I ended up having a life update with the one and only Bae Joohyun two hours after the call. I actually hesitated and almost cancelled the plan when a thought of Sehun being with us came into my mind- but then I remembered she said that it was going to be a girls time, which usually meant only the two of us and no one else. We also had just finished dinner earlier in a dalkgalbi restaurant nearby, and were now having a heart-to-heart talk inside the infamous 943 Kings Cross Harry Potter Café in the heart of Hongdae.
“Enough about me,” I told her. After talking a little about our thesis defense preparation and business, the topic mostly revolved around me- apparently there were rumors about how I was close with Samsung’s President- well, the currently inactive President, Kim Junmyeon. I told almost everything to Joohyun, of course, and emphasized on how Junmyeon and I were just friends and nothing else. He had said that he only saw me as a little sister anyway. “What about you? Anyone you fancy now?” I asked her as I sipped on my caramel macchiato.
She blushed at that, “Sort of, that’s why I want to talk to you,” she muttered under her breath. My heart panged at the possibility of who that someone was- I just had a hunch. “What? Is it Oh Sehun?” I raised a brow. Her face went an even deeper shade of red if possible, “Is it that obvious?” I snorted, trying to seem playful although the pain in my chest was multiplying. “Is it not obvious?” I gave out a teasing grin at her. “Oh come on Seoyeon!” she groaned and hid her red face behind her arms. I could only laugh at her.
“It’s been a while since you like someone, Hyun-ah,” I smiled softly at her. She bit her lips then, “It is, but... I don’t want to come between you and Sehun, Yeon,” she whispered. I blinked my eyes and felt my heart beat faster, did she know that I liked Sehun? “What do you mean?” I asked her. “Well, here it goes,” she muttered under her breath. “Don’t you like Sehun, Yeon-ah?” I felt my heart stop right then and there, but I still managed to keep my expressions neutral. “Sehun and I are just friends, Hyun,” I told her. “But the two of you seem...” she trailed off with a shrug. I sighed, “There’s nothing between us, Hyun, believe me.”
As much as I wish there’s something between us, there’s actually nothing, I thought to myself.
Now it was Joohyun’s turn to sigh, “Well, if you say so; I guess that’s one question out of the list,” she nodded to herself. “There are other questions?” I tilted my head to her. “Yeah, it’s uhm...” I could see that she was wrecking her brain to find the right words. “As you know, we’re quite close with each other now, so I think it’s going to be weird if I date him... right?”
“I just, don’t know what to do, I don’t want to ruin my friendship with him if this doesn’t work out,” she bit her lips again. It was a habit of hers when she was anxious about something. “With the way you’re wording this out... he had told you that he likes you, didn’t he?” I gave out a sad smile. She did not notice it however, as she was clouded with her own thoughts. She nodded her head at that, then slumped down on her seat again with her face on top of her folded arms on the table. “I really... don’t want to lose our friendship,” she murmured as she looked out the window.
I bit my own lips to prevent my tears from pouring out- I could not believe that I was going to give an advice to a friend, an advice that I resolutely rejected this whole time. “If you’re sure of how you’re feeling, then just go for it,” I told her softly, “You might regret it for life if you don’t,” I quirked a small smile when she glanced at me.
“Are you sure it won’t ruin our friendship?” she whispered. I forced myself to smile without spilling out the tears in order to tone down her anxiousness.
“I’m his close friend for a long time, so trust me; if he’s serious, he won’t let you go,” I reached out to hold her hand in mine. “He will cling onto you like you’re his lifeline, that, I can assure you,” I squeezed her hand to reassure her, although my own words were piercing my heart.
“Thank you, Yeon-ah,” she squeezed my hand back. “You won’t regret it, I promise you,” I gave her the final reassurance.
You’ll have your happy ending with Sehun, Joohyun-ah, unlike me.
Summary: Your father is the leader of the world's largest Mafia organization. Fortunately for you, your father cares immensely about your happiness, and has given you the opportunity to decide out of 8 men, who your future husband will be. The 8 men are each the next to take over their own fathers organizations, but all would love a chance to merge with your fathers. They get a full 24 hours to show you how they would treat you as your husband, and how they would help build onto your empire, and on day 10 you will make your decision.
—pairing: oh sehun x reader (oc; female) [ft. ot9 exo and (one mention of) park jinyoung from got7]
—genre: one-shot, romance, humour, fluff, soulmate!au, holiday!au, a sequel to my fic, chasing stars—can be read just as a standalone (i think), but a good portion of the context and humour will make better sense with a reading of the original one-shot.
—summary: the posse has reunited to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year, this time in Seoul, and while some people have some surprises up their sleeves, the rest are just here to relax, to spread holiday cheer, and maybe to reaffirm, even just to themselves, the fact that love is and always will be a choice, no matter what the stars have in mind.
—rating: R (just for the mild smidgen of smut i included)
—warnings: suggestive content and implied smut—a spicy prelude to a changing room quickie; mentions of food and alcohol; spoilers of the 2018 kdrama Mr. Sunshine (lol); idiots-in-love shenanigans as per usual.
—word count: 10k (this was meant to be a drabble, but it is what it is)
—tagging: my third pair of eyes @5am-rainyandgrey for betareading this piece of chaos (any mistakes/typos still present in the fic are my own so please let me know if you find any!), @yeoldontknow for reading (chanyeol's) parts and encouraging me, and @j-pping for being ever so excited about this story and for being the only one who gives me the strength to write sehun. because oh boy, is it a challenge.
author’s note: here’s my entry for @ficscafe’s peppermint latte holiday event! please enjoy the works being contributed to it! i had missed writing for this universe so i thought i will go ahead and spread some holiday cheer of my own. a belated happy thanksgiving, a very merry christmas and a happy new year (in advance), everyone! *tosses confetti and breaks into auld lang syne*
"Babe, did you get the white rum? For the 'nog?"
The change of visual scenery from chilled leafy greens to the fleecy purple of your boyfriend's sweater is stark, sudden, but hardly anything to complain about or be disoriented by—you just need to stop forgetting your glasses every time you leave the house. His hair has fallen across one end of his forehead like the most attractive comma in the history of hairstyles and punctuation, and god, how does your brain even come up with ridiculous compliments like that?
"Not yet. You're the fancy liquor expert in this relationship."
Sehun snorts, and you wish it was not as cute as it is, the sound of his mirth and the scrunch of his nose. Amongst all of the things you signed up for when you agreed to try having a real life with him—one that does not revolve around astral miracles, epiphanies in people's kitchens, and kissing against Parisian bridges—you were expecting everything from terrible, masculine hygiene and impromptu quickies to loud snoring and incompatible pets, but not this—this constant capacity of yours to be so enamoured by him everyday. It is not as much about the way he looks or speaks, but more about the endearment that embroiders the way he holds you—you, the revelation he had been awaiting for as long as it had taken for the two of you to meet.
"Rum is not fancy", he chuckles, leaning into you in a way that makes your head fall back against the shelf behind you. "But it's good", he finishes with a smile, dropping a playful peck onto your lips before you can protest and complain about the people around.
"Sometimes I feel like you should've been Minseok's alcoholic soulmate and not mine", you sigh, exhaling a scoff as you go back to choosing between near-identical bundles of kale and spinach. "The stars probably missed out on that one."
"Nope, the stars did just fine." Pressing his chin into the crook of your neck, Sehun follows your lead in choosing greens, handing you the ones he finds best. "Only you are enough of a sweetheart to let our laundry pile up in our gaming chairs. Minseok-hyung wouldn't survive anything beyond a week with me."
The shopping cart moves from veggies to packaged food items, and watching Sehun throw a preposterous amount of candy into the cart makes you question your romantic choices, just for a minute, until your spot your favourite brand of jalapeño-flavoured nachos. You face little hesitation before tossing in three of those yellow, inflated packets into your steadily growing treasure trove of unhealthy pleasures.
"Why would you choose these? They're like", Sehun nimbly picks one of them to read the fine print on the back, "seventy percent air and thirty percent chips. Bet you ten bucks they don't even use real jalapeños."
"Flavoured air won't make my teeth rot", you huff, eyeing that one obnoxious packet of artificially sweetened butterscotch candy, smirking up at you from right beside the tasteful bag of whole grain rotini pasta—the audacity. "A lifetime supply of sugar will."
Sehun catches your oblique gaze at his offensive taste in sweet treats, inadvertently rolling his eyes before pulling it out—but not without replacing it with something just as inflated as your nachos. You squint and read the label. Seaweed bugak chips.
"Baby, you know I can make better ones for you." You look at the scrawl at the back of the packaging. "For free. As often as you want."
"But", Sehun pauses, pointedly looking at you before dropping another one of those into the cart, making you narrow your eyes at him—from the non-verbal response you see on his face, you're sure you just look visually impaired and not threatening at all. "You can't make them while being on the couch, in my arms, as we watch a movie. And I have very specific cuddle needs during movie night."
"You can't even finish a movie in one go", you bite back, "you always want to... make out."
The moment your near-perfect retort has left your mouth, you know you've been ensnared—the lithe curve of his lip says it all. Brushing past your mobile heap of snack choices and the colourful array of shelved treats, he crowds into you, making you battle away his semi-public display of affection.
"Oh, honey", he drawls, making you giggle while still attempting to fight him off yourself before someone from the nearby aisles decides to inspect the resounding mirth erupting in this corner of the supermarket. "We do more than just make out. Last time, I even made you take that phone call while you were minutes away from—"
"Don't you dare." You slap your palm across his stupid, filthy mouth just in time for a woman to come strolling in with her tiny daughter. "And I only had to take it because Kyungsoo called you thrice within an hour and you never picked up."
"I was busy." Sehun pretends to arrange all the items in the cart, the faint shade of pink across his cheeks unmistakable to your eyes. "We were busy."
The little girl takes a sudden fascination to your menace of a boyfriend and leaves her mom to help him with his sorry excuse of a shopping arrangement, miniscule hands reaching for the cart. Her object of affection does a little unspoken check-in with her mother, bowing gracefully in greeting before holding her up against his hip, the white fluff of her dress falling around his forearms, and she grins at him, enraptured. Same, girl. Same. But you're devious, despite what your plethora of feelings might suggest, so you do what you have done best for the past two years—you absolutely get back at him for his earlier attack on you. Picking up the puffy packet of kimbugak, you hold it out to her until her joyous fingers appear around it, and Sehun looks beyond betrayed for about five seconds before letting a curl of acknowledgement lace the ends of his lips. Well played, it says.
It also screams wait until we get home, but it's not like you'll have to deal with that until later. You can enjoy your triumph for now. Y/n: 1, Sehun: 0.
"No, she's yet to wake up. We didn't fall asleep until like 6am."
For a change, his house is bereft of people except for himself and his wife, and the latter has been stuck in dreamland for the past six hours. When Chanyeol had called his parents a few weeks back, excited in the anticipation of his visit home, he'd been told that they shall be away—for an predetermined trip to Jeju, which had absolutely slipped his mind prior to booking the flights and deciding on an itinerary. They'll return just about three days before he has to fly back to Nice, which is probably better than not seeing them at all. Of course, a considerable part of being home in Seoul was to be with his family, but he'll take what he can get. He's the one who has made a new life on the other side of the world, after all.
"I'm hanging up if you bother my ears with details of your sex life."
Chanyeol laughs—maybe a little too loudly for the fact that he is about two feet away from where Natsu is sleeping, and he winces, carefully tiptoeing out of the room when he finds her stirring, almost tripping over one of her slippers during his little stealth mission.
"Your ears are in luck, because it's just jetlag."
On the other end of the call, he hears his best friend letting out a quietened yah and the subdued lilt of a whine before Tara's voice drowns out the wispy static on the line.
"It should be a drinking game. Me and Chanyeol being TMI about our love lives." Her words are walking a careless tightrope between sweet and slurred, and he chuckles before pressing on the video call button. The screen shifts into the view of a familiar living room and a snoozing poodle on the couch, and he jokingly shuts his eyes when he finds Tara pressing kisses on Kyungsoo's cheek before the perplexed man pokes her head away from himself, but continues holding her hand, attempting to keep his miniscule act of skinship somewhere below the purview of the smartphone and the ongoing video call.
"Why did you call if you wanted to keep your eyes closed?"
With a snort, Chanyeol returns his sights back onto the screen, levelling Kyungsoo with a knowing stare. "You'd climb through the phone and bonk my head with a wooden spoon if I purposely watched your girlfriend kiss you."
"It's called voyeurism, Soo", Tara pipes up again, looking just as drunk as she had sounded earlier, her smile pressed into the backrest of the sofa. "Don't hit him for that. Some people are just", she pauses and purses one of her small hands, as if to emphasise the brilliant point she's trying to make, "they're just into it."
Kyungsoo looks like he is questioning just about everything in his current life along with every previous one that he has lived, and Chanyeol almost drops his device, tears in his eyes from how badly he's keeping himself from booming forth into a raucous fit of laughter. The video call is put on hold—by Kyungsoo, for obvious reasons—just in time for the bedroom door to squeak open. Natsu practically tumbles into the living room, his old varsity t-shirt haphazardly hanging off her frame and skirting the tops of her bare thighs, and the blanket she had been sleeping with is now scrunched around her shoulders as she makes a beeline for her husband's awaiting touch.
"Did I wake you?"
A tiny shake of a head answers his question as she burrows further into him, tucking her cold hands into the pockets of his hoodie, her legs folding themselves around him as she noses at his neck. "I was cold. I missed you." She falls back asleep just as swiftly as she had arisen from it earlier, her endeared husband kissing at her hair while she does so.
The suspended phone call then beeps back into activity, and Kyungsoo reappears—this time, with frazzled hair and a stray lipstick stain right below his ear, edged against his tattoo. He looks like he was about to greet Natsu but holds back on it as soon as he realises that she has retracted back into her slumber. In quiet solidarity, he angles his screen away from his face and onto the seat of the couch where Tara sleeps, her one arm thrown around his dog who looks like she has accepted her fate of being unintentionally squished for the night. Chanyeol watches his friend gaze at her, the smallest of smiles playing at his full lips until he catches himself with a clearing of his throat and turns back to the screen, looking miffed by the fact that he had let someone in on an transparent expression of his fondness.
"Did you let her break into the holiday drinks early?", Chanyeol whispers, careful not to let his words be animated with more than a chuckle, in case he wakes Natsu up again.
"She's persuasive when she wants to be", Kyungsoo sighs into a tired laugh, and Chanyeol can tell he'd joined his girlfriend in on the alcohol as well—he probably didn't go beyond a couple drinks so he can take care of her. "That's all I can say. And you better not be late on Sunday, it took me ages to get a meeting with the chef at Boccalino."
"Of course. Hey", Chanyeol pauses, leaning into his screen as if he were truly sitting across from Kyungsoo, "did you decide on it?"
His best friend squints in puzzlement until the unsaid nuance behind the it dawns upon him, making him exhale yet another sigh. Flopping back against his sofa, he runs his free hand through his hair, the fringes kissing at the tops of his rimmed glasses.
"You'd think a proposal would be a cakewalk when you're practically fated to be with the person", he mumbles. "I don't know, what if it's too early?"
Chanyeol scoffs, almost pained by how he has to consider his volume every time he has a chance to tease his friend. "As someone who met, fell in love, and married his soulmate within a matter of two years, I think I am ready to take offence to that thing you just said."
"I'm just considering everything before I do it."
"No, you're not", Chanyeol fires back, "you're trying to find a loophole so you can continue chickening out like you have for the past year and a half."
"Yah", Kyungsoo snips, clearly uncomfortable at being called out so openly. "I thought you wanted to help me."
Chanyeol rolls his eyes, his exasperation, at his friend's second guessing over something so crystalline in its truth, only edging upward, and he was well on his way with crafting a perfect retort when his wife chirped up from beside him.
"He has been helping you ever since the two of you met", Natsu whispers, her words kissing at the fleece of his hoodie. "Not advocating for anything as breakneck as our marriage, that's just our shared impatience, but you've been with her for about five years." The light in Chanyeol's eyes could dwarf every last star as he watches his wife rub the sleep off her face and smile at the screen he holds up. "Even if we subtract the magic, do you still want her the same way? Because she sure does."
Kyungsoo looks uneased to the point where he would probably know peace if he could crawl his way through the plush leather of the sofa and bury himself, but he relents to the resolute, and oddly arousing, stare Natsu holds him within—Chanyeol would perhaps be rocking a semi by now if not for his acute sleep deprivation and the serious conversation happening right now, so he distracts himself with the sight of his friend and the helpless look he casts at his sleeping partner.
"Of course", Kyungsoo finally utters. "I can't imagine being without her."
"I swear", Chanyeol replies, relieved that he doesn't have to quieten himself anymore, "the stars could come down to earth and hand you a written certificate that the two of you are meant to be, and you'd find a way to rip it into shreds."
"Consider this", Natsu adds, "the stars already did it, because these two are literal soulmates. But here we fucking are, anyway." Her husband almost claps her in the face in the event of his laughter, and she seems confidently pleased about being the heart of his joy.
Kyungsoo looks petulant about the jokes being made at his expense, but there's hardly any room for him to argue—does that stop him, though? Not really. "What if", he mutters, almost as if he's embarrassed about letting his following words see the light, "what if she isn't ready?"
Natsu looks like she'd like nothing more than to throw a hand through the phone and smack the chef, and Chanyeol is just incapable of anything beyond a prolonged cackle at this point. Meokmul finally squirms free of the drunken arm over her, and he watches her swan dive into Kyungsoo's lap, a fluffy ball of relief as his friend combs his fingers through her fur.
"Remember when I used to joke that you should take a page from Soo's book and think before you speak?", Natsu finally says, her eyes and words aimed towards her husband, who is lying on his side on the floor, one hand growing numb and barely keeping the phone propped up as he nods through his laughter. "Yeah. I take that back. I love you. Never be like him." Chanyeol snorts, his face smushed into the carpet almost entirely, and his wife just stares at the screen in what looks like blatant disbelief. "That woman wouldn't even have to move out if she didn't want to be with you, she would literally just climb two flights of stairs and be back to living by herself. Please stop being a coward."
"Fine." Chanyeol watches entire worlds change across his friend's face, his eyes slightly unfocused as the mild inebriation rushes him into his sudden defiance. "I'll do it on Christmas. At the party. You", Kyungsoo points at Natsu, and then at him, "and you will watch me do it. I'm no coward."
"Who's no coward?"
Everyone is jolted by the sudden verbal intrusion when Tara peeps in, eyes laced in sleep and the beginnings of what will be a terrible hangover in the morning. "Baby, what's happening?", she whispers, squinting at the phone, and then at her partner as she tries to get her bearings.
"Nothing much", Kyungsoo says with the tiniest smirk at his lips, suddenly devious as he side-eyes his friends on the video call, "but apparently my best friend has made a secret out of the fact that he's been wistfully browsing through baby outfits on Amazon."
Chanyeol finally drops the phone at that. When Sehun calls him shortly after, he's already been tugged off to the bedroom—his sleep deprivation now a thing of the past, it'd seem. He has nothing but gratitude for Kyungsoo, but he will kick his ass on Sunday anyway, just because he can. Just because it's fun.
"For the last time", you say, eyeing the men in front of you warily, "it is not a costume party."
Jongin just huffs, somehow managing to look defiant while making the most ridiculous puppy face at the woman beside you, who is clearly not even half as resilient as you when it comes to your best friend. Sehun, your favourite personification of the word menace, is supremely unbothered and is clearly scrolling on Instagram through what looks like an array of couple costumes—
"Sweetheart", you almost yell at him, "did you not hear me?"
"I did, much like the other three times", he retorts, giving you the most saccharine smile that doesn't deter you at all—at least not yet. "I just don't care." He holds his phone up to show you a photo of what seems like a Tuxedo Mask-Sailor Moon couple cosplay and Jongin immediately kicks him in the leg.
"I will switch sides if you come for me like that. I'm only helping you because I didn't get to use my Halloween costume this year."
"Nini, stop lying", Ada finally speaks up, and you sigh in relief—you were all too sure that this woman is just strung way too far into what you have termed as Jongin's slippery sphere of sexiness and would hence be of absolutely no use when it comes to dissuading her foxy fiend of a soulmate from derailing a perfectly chill Christmas party that is set to start in, oh, less than twenty-four hours. "You wore your vampire ensemble for a good five hours."
"I wore it well, didn't I?", Jongin says with all the artful audacity of a man who knows how to allure his women and avert his crises—and going by the bewitched look on Ada's face, you're pretty sure this intervention is going nowhere. "We didn't even leave the house for the rest of the eve—"
"No one cares", you say, dispelling whatever wizardry your demonic best friend is casting, and earning yourself an appreciative smirk from Sehun. "We can't ask people to arrange costumes in a day. And believe it or not, there are people who are visiting Seoul for the holidays and wouldn't exactly know where to go for outfits like that."
"We can take them with us", Sehun argues, and Jongin nods in approval. When you'd introduced your soulmate to the gang two years ago—quite eventfully so, breaking your best friend's heart and detouring from a wedding in the process—you'd have never believed that these two men would get along as famously as they do, because at this point you're convinced that if soulmate-ship happened through shared stupidity, they would definitely fit the bill. The cat to the sparkle ball, the frog to the lilypad, the clown to the circus—you name it, they are it.
"You want to drive a dozen people around on Christmas morning just so you can make jokes about their costumes and gather blackmail material at the party that will earn you favours from your hyungs until next December."
"Bingo", Sehun replies, batting his eyes at you and making you scoff at his nerve. "Come on, I've seen your Tumblr blog. You know I'd look superior as the yakuza guy from Mr Sunshine. You can dress as Kim Tae-ri."
"My husband has a name", you fire back, "it's Yoo Yeon-seok. Please be respectful."
"Your husband?", he smirks, "don't you mean your late husband? Because he dies in the show?"
You gasp, and Jongin snorts before clapping his palm onto his mouth to defuse the absolute wrath you could unleash upon him and the man in front of you for picking at your raw, fiction-obsessed nerve. Sehun casually goes back to swiping at his phone, stopping and holding up a photo from the show where Kim Taeri is dressed in a traditional hanbok whilst holding a rifle, and your perfectly alive husband is wearing a maroon yukata and wielding a katana. Truth be told, there is no greater fact than the one Sehun mentioned earlier—he would look fantastic in that attire, and the sword is a sweet, sweet bonus—but it would still be such a damn hassle for everyone attending to procure a guise for a Christmas party that is evidently becoming much more than that.
"Okay so here's the thing", Ada finally says with a clearing of her throat and an air of compromising surrender, side-eyeing Jongin who has now assumed the grin of a Cheshire Cat because he's perfectly aware that he and his bestie have won this round—while said bestie is staring at you with a rather suggestive smile on his face that is maybe a little too much for this kitchen that happens to be accommodating two other people. "What we can do is suggest their inconveniently stupid idea on the group chat and see what happens. We're not exactly attending a charity ball or a costume gala, so even if someone refuses or is unable to find an outfit, it'll be okay."
Damn Ada and her reasonable brain—it's something that her soulmate clearly lacks, so she's simply taking one for the team. You can admire that, and even stand with that. "Fine", you relent, "but you fools are taking kitchen duties after me, Kyungsoo and Natsu are done with preparing the Christmas dinner."
"Rude", Jongin sighs, "but we'll manage if we rope the hyungs into helping us. Especially Minseok-hyung."
"I'll be fine", Sehun snips, with a tilt of his head that insinuates you, "as long as this one lets me leave the bedroom. You know, dressed as her dead husband and all that."
Your boyfriend is lucky—because he's cute, because he's your soulmate, and because the only closest thing you could throw at his face within the next five seconds, while Jongin and Ada dropped to the floor in howling laughter, is a flimsy kitchen wipe.
"I can't thank Sehun enough for this amazing idea", Baekhyun says as the lot of you skim the aisles of Joyparty, one of Seoul's renowned costume outlets. "My old workplace used to go all out with their Halloween celebrations, and I have kinda missed it after moving here."
"I don't think I ever asked you about your transfer", you wonder aloud. "Because I know I'd never want to leave if I got to live in Kyoto. I'm glad to befriend you but I'm also curious."
"I mean I'd have moved here eventually to live closer to my parents, but I wasn't in a hurry because my brother lives with them", he replies while closely inspecting what seems like a vampire mask but has bat wings around the ears, dropping it with a laugh when you stare at it quizzically. "But Maria was offered a promotional transfer at one of the hospitals in Seoul. I truly didn't think it'd be a problem, us living apart, given how busy we always are, but there's only so many hours I can spend gaming and sleeping my feels away. I got lonelier than I will ever admit to anyone, including her, so I looked up open positions at the Seoul branch, and luckily they had one in your legal team."
You smile as he picks up another piece—a replica of the heroic disguise from The Mask of Zorro, complete with the hat and the bands that get tied below the chin to hold it all together, right in time for your other new friend to join you.
"Hyung", Baekhyun pipes up in delight, "this looks exactly like the one you'd worn when we attended that one party in Taiwan."
Yixing's eyes squeeze into crescents as he throws an arm around his friend, inspecting the mask further closely alongside Baekhyun. "Wait, it really does. Small world, huh? Oh hey, Y/n", he says, his other hand coming to pat at your shoulder in a friendly greeting. "Thank you for planning this. I thanked Sehun already, but he says he only got serious about this because you rejected the idea within the first ten seconds."
You snort. "Jongin supported him wholeheartedly so if you want to thank someone else, it should be him." Baekhyun bursts into a cackle as he hunches over into the lower shelves, picking at a hot pink Catwoman mask, which almost tides Yixing over onto the floor. Despite knowing these two for only about a year, you don't think you've seen many friendships quite as precious. The younger man practically lives to make his friend laugh, and Yixing's loyalty towards the friendship is constantly evident and unrivalled. It reminds you of yourself and—
"Sehun thinks he's so cool because he just happened to find a yukata the same colour as the one from Mr. Sunshine", Jongin announces, his whiny arrival making you grin just a little bit wider given that you were just thinking of him seconds ago. "Go say something annoying to him right now so he stops smirking."
You wrap a playful arm around his waist, and scrunch your nose up at him. "Oh, but you two were going so strong in my kitchen yesterday. Whatever happened to being besties?"
"You're my bestie", he mumbles, his hands curled beneath his sweater paws as he twines them with yours. "He's a fool. Stupidly handsome, but still a fool."
"Welcome to my life", you laugh, and for a minute, it's just you and Jongin watching Yixing and Baekhyun clowning away with the silliest masks, Chanyeol joining them shortly after. "I'm going to say something weird and out of place for Christmas morning, and you will not judge me."
Your best friend holds onto you and walks you through the aisle, one arm around your back, one hand meshed with yours. "You know I'd never. Just go for it."
"Are we okay?", you say, almost in a whisper, as if you're shamed and scared of bringing this up. "Like we were two years ago?"
Jongin quietly exhales a chuckle, serene and almost expectant of you to bring this up someday or the other. "When have we not been okay?"
"You know what I mean", you sigh, "and yes, we've been over this plenty of times, but not anytime recently. We've been busy and time has just whizzed by in the blink of an eye. Feels like it was just yesterday when I—", you pause, suddenly uncertain of how to phrase your divulgence, "when I called you from Paris."
"Oh, you mean when you broke my heart?", Jongin quips, a smile playing at his mouth, and you wince until you're tugged back into his arms. "Hey, someone has to say the hard things. Never forget that you actually left your soulmate stranded in the middle of Nice with no way to contact you until you'd shared everything with me. I think that alone says that you loved me more than anything else. You", he leans in, "chose me over your fate. You held me above your happiness. But I", he says with an exaggerated flourish of his hands, making you giggle, "am the smart, thoughtful, dependable earth sign half of this friendship, so I had to stop you. And now I have my own soulmate bragging rights. Unlike you, Ada is great at letting me sleep in and taking my Instagram photos."
"I love you. Present tense, always." You refuse to look up at him because he doesn't need to see the line of mist across your eyes, but given that it's Jongin, he probably knows it already. "I was just thinking about how much fun we used to have before. Now we're tired, overworked, in serious relationships, and need three months to make time for one Christmas party."
"Don't forget old", Jongin replies. "Being thirty should come with a warning and an agreement. Do you, Kim Jongin, choose to care for your aching back, from now until forevermore? Do you, Y/l/n Y/n, wish to be with your knee pain until death does you apart? Serious stuff like that."
"Not all our bruised knees and muscle pulls are from our age, though", you give your friend a sly smile, and he winks in reply before trudging off into the following aisle with you in tow. Your phone buzzes in the pocket of your winter coat, and you pull it out to see what it is.
monsieur oh (11:42am): second floor. changing room three. you have five minutes.
"Oh, no", Jongin snorts, "she has a dick appointment. In the middle of a fucking costume store."
"Remind me", you scoff, "who was doing unspeakable things with his girlfriend at the Italian restaurant we went to last month? As if unleashing every faucet in the restroom could have saved my ears."
"Why were you there anyway?"
"To call you back for the next course", you laughed in disbelief, "but clearly you and Ada were having your own dessert in there, world-class tiramisu be damned." Jongin just rolls his eyes in fond frustration.
"They were doing what?"
You turn to see Tara with her face pressed into her hands as she stands back and restrains her amusement that's begging to burst forth, while Kyungsoo is staring at Jongin with his mouth agape in what looks like sixty percent horror, thirty percent anger, and ten percent of actual embarrassment from overhearing your best friend's sexcapades—at a restaurant he suggested and got reservations at, for you. Something about one of the chefs being his senior in culinary school. Yeah, you'd be bitter too if you were in his place.
"Take me with you", Jongin whispers. "I'll stand outside your changing stall and play mobile games on full volume so no one has to hear your obnoxious mating noises."
You suck your lip into your mouth, just to not laugh straight into Kyungsoo's face—you're not stupid enough to mess up your friendship with the best chef in town six hours before a party where he's helping you cook for over a dozen people. "Look at you trying to make it seem like you're doing me a favour."
"Honey, you run one of the best restaurants in Nice", Tara supplies, placing her hands around Kyungsoo's shoulders, "and you've frequently used that fact, and that kitchen, to your advantage. Let's not make a big deal out of this. "
"If it helps", you add with a wily grin, "Sehun and me were perfect angels that day. We even sat across from each other. No funny business from us." Despite himself, Kyungsoo chuckles, leaning into Tara's touch, and patting Jongin's shoulder in faux consolation as he pouts, you head for the second floor—and no, no one has to know that you had spent that very same dinner playing foreplay footsie with Sehun beneath the pristine table cloth of the three-star restaurant.
"It's hard to believe that you're so serious about this dress-up business."
Sehun glances up from matching your hanbok blouses to the rich red of his costume yukata, the raised curve of his brow a subtle challenge. "What else would I call you here for? Me? Interrupting whatever crucial situation you were in downstairs? Without a good reason?" He tugs two of the choices from the changing room stool that is now draped in a myriad of coloured faux silks. "I could never."
"Now I am certain that you're fucking with me." You roll your eyes, pulling one of the blouses from him to hold against yourself in the mirrored view of the walkway, the dark purpled embroidery complementing the maroon of his ensemble. "You're a menace. I'll go try these on. And no, you will not stand outside my changing room like a creep because there is nothing on this that needs to be zipped or buckled."
"No one else would complain about having the most caring partner in the world the way you do", Sehun snips as you walk away with a wave of your hand, your right arm carrying swathes of silken skirts. "I love you", he whispers quietly, to no one but the mirror before him.
He's back in his stall, his attire worn and ready to be revealed when his phone dings, the lockscreen waking up to a message from you.
mademoiselle y/n (12:28pm): promise me you won't laugh at the next thing i say.
It is a tradition at this point, one that came to be birthed from a concoction of his eagerness and your chronic clumsiness. Sehun hops off the stool, pushing his one bare foot into his shoe. it's not like you have a choice even if i did. what did you do?
A wordless array of eye-rolling emojis follow, followed by that one sad face that you use primarily when you're forced to own up to your shit. Sehun carefully types out a let me help you, baby, just in case it is truly something serious and time-sensitive.
mademoiselle y/n (12:31pm): i,,, tied the knot on this blouse a little too tight. it won't come off. i still haven't tried the other one. :(
Exhaling a fond chuckle through his nose, Sehun drops the fake katana that goes with his costume into the stool he was sitting on. you're giving me express permission to undress you at a public retail outlet in Korea. on one of the busiest days of the year. this is monumental.
mademoiselle y/n (12:33pm): either you help me or i am texting jongin.
Sehun takes exactly ten seconds to zoom off towards your stall. Three seconds in, he returns, to take the shiny sword back along with him. For aesthetic reasons, of course. And maybe some personal ones, too. He takes half a moment to check himself out in the mirror on the way. You did really love that dead, fictional husband of yours, after all.
When you quietly unlatch the dressing room door to the sight of your boyfriend, you have to lean back against the mirror and relearn how to breathe. The red sits against his skin like silken sin, his chest is out, and the makeshift ponytail paired with the weapon in his hand is making it a little too hard for you to get your wits back in place. So, you do what any sane person would do—you close the door on his face.
"Baby." He's laughing—the audacity he has to be amused at your misery. "You asked me to come here and help you. What are you doing?"
"You can't come in here looking like that." He puts a couple more ounces of his strength against the door, and you give in. Your wardrobe malfunction impaired you in the face of war, what an unfortunate betrayal. "Keep your distance, you're too fucking much, oh my god."
Sehun carefully closes the door behind him, the two of you going mum at the echoing footsteps of a watchguard—someone who probably excels at undoing spicy situations and possibilities for couples just like yourself and the gorgeous, six-foot personification of a menace in front of you. They walk past your stall, then return, and seem to pause right outside the door for a good few seconds before leaving. You tell yourself you didn't hear that ghost of a scoff because it clearly didn't come from Sehun, and you're being kissed almost immediately after the risk of surveillance disappears.
"Quiet." He winks, pulling away from your mouth to skillfully unravel the pesky binding that had you trapped in your own choice of a costume. "There, you're free now."
"Free of your dress", he whispers, leaning into your neck, a purposeful drag of his teeth greeting the length of your neck and making you gasp as the blouse falls away. "But never from me."
"This was", you sigh, "your plan all along, wasn't it?"
One of your own playful hands manages to drag the robe off him, and he looks up from where he kneels before you, his palms moving up the curves of your thighs. The overhead lights turn his skin to a roseate gold as he smirks. "I don't kiss and tell."
"You can kiss just fine, though."
"It's one of my prized talents." His lips caress the surface of your belly, making your head fall back against the wall in perfect bliss. "Shall I demonstrate more thoroughly, miss?" The question is merely a pose, you know this, because he's already tugging off your panties and watching them slide down your leg, pooling around your ankle, before his mouth latches onto the skin just shy of where you need him most. You aim to push him into giving you your relief, by clutching at his outgrown hair that falls out of its styling from the pressure of your hand. You edge him closer to yourself, without having to own up to the reality of your desire, but he's Sehun, and you're weak.
So of course, you nod—the glorious fool that you are for this man—and oh, did he guide through the vast expanses of his sensual skillset. His last name just keeps making more and more sense to you every day.
"We were about twenty minutes into the drive, talking about how tiny her hands are, and Sora started smiling a little too bright so I knew she was about to cry", Jongdae narrates amidst the jovial chiming of plates and cutlery, his own eyes a little misty despite the way his smile reaches into them. He distracts himself by fixing the long sleeves of his Harry Potter outfit. "So, she FaceTimed her parents the rest of the way because they're keeping Yeonhwa while we're here."
Everyone coos at the emotional, not-so newly minted parents, but it is their first time being away from their daughter for more than a couple hours. Sora looks every bit the sleep-deprived mother, but the joy on her face is unparalleled as she leans into Jongdae. "He's lying, I didn't bother them the entire way here. We were excited to see all of you clowns, too. Especially Kyungsoo", she bats her eyes at him in feigned attraction at the chef on the other end of the table, who waves her away in a burst of embarrassed laughter. "I have missed his meals. Dae can't even make his eggs right. Tara, how does it feel to live my dream?"
"Did you", Chanyeol's voice booms through the conjoined mirth across the dinner table, his bright Howl Pendragon cape swishing every time he speaks, "just quote a TikTok trend at the one woman in the world who doesn't use that app?"
"Hey, I'm no hermit", said woman quips instantly. "Your wife sends me the best ones on Kakao all the time." Dressed as Mia from Pulp Fiction, Tara pushes hair off her face with enough pizazz to elicit a chuckle out of everyone who is watching, then turns to Sora. "The dream is excellent, thank you for asking."
Kyungsoo, the Vincent Vega of the party, sputters into a giggle with his soup spoon still in his mouth, and when he catches Chanyeol's meaningful gaze, he quietly looks the other way. The ever-observant Mrs. Park, presenting as Sophie to match with her husband, has other plans, though. "I swear, the first time I met Tara, I couldn't comprehend how she keeps up with Soo. But it's been years, and now I know better", she says, winking at the chef and her own husband beside her. "Soo is always on his toes, thanks to her. And he loves it."
"We all do, my entire relationship is indebted to them", you chuckle, passing a platter of galbi over to Natsu, while Sehun helps Minseok and Yixing—who are Li Shang and Flynn Rider for the evening, respectively—with serving out more drinks, coming over to drop a kiss to your temple before going back. "Anything new up your sleeves, Chef Doh?"
"Not really", Kyungsoo replies, almost a little too quick, so you tilt your head at him with an inquisitive brow—one that he returns carefully, with a signature shake of his head. Fixing his girlfriend with a steadfast smile, he says, "Just trying to find better ways to take care of what I already have."
"What happened to the investor you were corresponding with?", Haewon pipes up, taking her glass of wine from Junmyeon—starring as Victor Hugo's Gwynplaine—who leaves a kiss at her cheek before taking the empty chair beside her. "If that plan goes through, you can open a branch of the restaurant in Seoul, right?"
"Ah, Jinyoung", Chanyeol says, looking entirely too conspiratorial as he smiles. "Yeah, it's been going well. We had a meeting last week, since we're here, and he's visited us twice in Nice to get a good feel of the business before we negotiate further. A pretty charming man, if I may say so myself."
"That he is", Tara chirps in, and Sora leans in with peaked interest. Kyungsoo's not-so nonchalant stare practically goes unseen. "Apparently, he'd dabbled in professorship before getting into his business, and he's an avid reader, so we had a good conversation when he was in Nice."
"The only conversation, you mean", Chanyeol smirks. "The rest of the time, you just ogled the way he filled his three-piece suits out."
"Don't remind me", Natsu joins her husband in the animated narration. "Soo fumbled like three times during their meeting because every time he'd try and look at Tara, she'd be gaping at that man."
"Hey, it took him all of his business tycoon tactics, a Rolex and a branded suit to make me look at him", Tara says with a fond finality in her voice, "My man got me with nothing but a denim jacket, a baseball cap, and his terrible vision. Enough said." Kyungsoo tries to yah his way through the compliment, but ends up receiving a peck to his lips instead.
"Don't forget the tattoo", Sehun yells cheerfully from across the table. "Given how often Y/n brings it up, I think I should get one too."
"Please don't", you say, your chuckle pressing into his cheek as you kiss him. "I want to actually live to see the day when you learn how to use the air fryer. And that will take a while."
Everyone laughs, a melee of mirth surrounding you as you lean back into your chair and smile. Sehun catches your gaze, nudging the side of your head with his own. "You seem content."
"I am. Very much so." This time, as you try to kiss his cheek, he turns his face so it ends up being an impromptu smooch instead, and everyone oohs, which only spurs Sehun into kissing you yet again, finally relenting when you smack his shoulder.
"Dessert is for after you finish your dinner, sweetie", you whisper to him before leaving your chair to get the last of the entrée dishes—namely, the japchae and the butter braised shrimp. As you're setting the serving bowls onto a tray to carry them out, you hear footsteps behind you.
"Oh hey, chef-nim", you greet him brightly. "Did you need something?"
It's probably the only time you've seen him not mirror a smile you've given him, and you place the serving tray back onto the kitchen counter, pointing him towards one of the empty chairs with a look.
"I do", he sighs, and you can only reply with a quiet gasp when he tugs his right hand out of his pocket. A blue velvet box sits in his palm. "I need help."
"I thought it was something serious!"
"Sehun", you level him with a sobering stare beneath the overhead lights of your bathroom, then fix the neckline of his yukata to enclose the generous amount of chest he's been showing all evening. You need all of your braincells to work, along with his own. "A proposal is something serious. Probably more serious than whatever you'd come up with when I pulled you in here."
"Us dragging each other into wherever is a different kind of serious", he smirks, "but okay. How are we helping the lovebirds with their happily ever after?"
"You're staying with Tara", you whisper, careful of how your words may echo and filter out into the living room where everyone is having their drinks. "Don't let her out of your sights while we try and get everyone else in on what's happening. You can take someone along, if you want. Maybe Jun, since we've already brought him in on the plan. And Natsu."
"And you're on the groom's side, I'm guessing?"
"This is not a wedding, but yes", you smile, "me and Chanyeol are trying to make him not malfunction his way through this. Jongin said he'll help, too. And Minseok." Sehun hops onto the cold marble counter, watching you touch up your lipstick and smooth down some invisible crease on your hanbok. He leans a hand out, tenderly tucking a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, making you quirk a brow at him.
"Very." Alighting from his seat, he takes his place behind you, blithe arms coming to rest around your waist. "One day, you'll be out there, just as clueless as Tara while I'm freaking out with a diamond in my pocket."
"Oh?" You rest your head back against his shoulder, taking in the sight of yourself with him in the mirror, and you don't think you ever remember wearing a smile this big until a little over two years ago—maybe there is something to the way the universe works and reveals itself, the manner in which it forces your hand into choices that are in your highest and best, the persistence it has in refusing to let you live in your comfort zone, even when it's a person you cherish. Almost as if in tandem, you hear a bite of Jongin's laughter from the kitchen, and you smile to yourself. "That sounded an awful lot like your own proposal, Monsieur Oh."
"You'll know when I do it", Sehun says with a sway of his hand, as if he's filming a scene from a movie. "It'll be so good you'll have to say yes."
"The day you stop waking up an hour before work", you retort, turning back to once again fix his annoyingly scandalous robe, "and learn how to wear your sneakers without squishing out the heels is when I promise to be yours."
Sehun scoffs, tugging you into him for a kiss, and your hands have only just found the warmth of his scalp when a series of subtle knocks ring through the bathroom, effectively slicing through the romance and making him laugh.
"That's probably Soo", you move away from your living temptation of a lover. "Jongin would never be this quiet."
"Hey, I heard that!"
Sehun snorts, giving you one last kiss before the door is opened, revealing your three friends. Kyungsoo looks somewhat pale, but still resolute, while Jongin and Ada are just grinning from behind their fake fangs, the dorkiest couple in the history of vampire cosplay. Miso, decked in fluffy reindeer ears that Chanyeol brought for him, is towed into Ada's arms—you personally think it's the most hilarious thing that your cat likes her more than Jongin and Sehun combined, while the two men, with years of efforts, get no more than unbothered nonchalance from the feline.
You nod at your friends in affirmation. "Let's do this."
"I almost feel bad for him." Sehun snickers quietly in his observations, the exhale beneath his words a misty puff as it disappears into the night air. The porch is cold, patches of snow laced across the grass, but it is the one place in your shared home with your partner that is expansive enough to hold all your ever-growing posse of friends. "He looks like he's being taken to the gallows." Following Sehun's line of sight, you take in Kyungsoo in his little corner, Chanyeol and his wife flanking him on either side while Tara is kept thoroughly engaged by Baekhyun, Jisoo and Yixing only a couple feet away.
"He loves her, Sehun. Of course he's worried."
"I wouldn't be."
You roll your eyes. "You'll know how it feels when you decide on proposing to someone."
Sehun almost jolts out of his relaxed posture, the last of the merlot in his glass sloshing wildly. "What do you mean by someone?"
"Someone who you decide to marry, you dork." You laugh when Chanyeol meets your eyes, pointing at his best friend and making funny faces until he gets elbowed in the side. Mouthing a quiet you can do this at the chef, you finish your encouragement with a pair of upturned thumbs. "A marriage is one of the biggest responsibilities we can choose to have. These two have been together for five years and he's still scared. It's a strange world out there, and sometimes magic isn't enough."
"Time is a construct. You only ever empower it by not believing in yourself."
"Sure", you turn to look at him quizzically over a sip from your glass. That was abruptly thoughtful. "And what exactly do you mean?"
Sehun throws back the last of his drink, leaving the glass on the nearest low table before holding you from behind—it's what he likes to do when he's climbed deep into the heart of something, only wishing to put forth an expression of it in a way that doesn't hold him in a full purview of your observation. "I mean", he begins, pausing only to let his breath tickle at the nape of your neck as he picks his words, "that I wouldn't need five years or five months or even five days to be sure of how I feel. I always knew. I knew from that first night in Paris." He then laughs, squeezing his arm just a touch tighter around you, as if seeking subliminal support from you without having to ask for it. "Hell. I think I knew even when we were in school. I never forgot you, I had never known anyone of your measure—talented, versatile, kind and passionate. Sure, I grew up, moved, changed jobs, went out with people, held hands and kissed lips and touched hearts without worrying about their permanence. But I think I always carried that feeling in my chest wherever I went, that inkling in my blood, that it could still be you. That, somewhere in the world, you had everything in life and yet, you were waiting for me, too. Longing for the experience only we can give to each other."
It catches you off guard, the flourish of feelings that crawl up the column of your throat and threaten to spill across your face. You press back into your boyfriend, trying to appear nonchalant in the way you close your eyes and will yourself into a smile, and it happens just that much easier when Sehun leaves a tender kiss to the side of your head with the most knowing of grins.
"It's okay to cry", he chuckles. "That actually came out better than the way it sounded in my head."
"I hate you so much", you mumble, hiding your whelmed expression of love into his chest. "No, I don't."
"Of course you don't. Not today, of all days. I look just like your fictional husband, if not better."
"God, you just had to go there again after that wonderful moment we were having." You raise your sights to look up at him, only to be kissed on your forehead. "You're a menace."
"Your menace", he smirks, then lets his eyes disappear into delicate crescents as he laughs. "The only one. Oh, look, it's happening."
Turning excitedly, you grin when Kyungsoo finally leans off the porch railing and goes over to Tara, earning himself a peck on the cheek before taking her hand and leading her away from the fellow friends who are now also smiling and whispering gleefully. The woman dazedly takes the settee while her fumbling lover kisses her forehead before kneeling before her, and your own eyes get a little misty as you watch her face morph into a realization of what has been brewing all evening.
"You have driven me absolutely insane for the last five years, and I am a fool because here I am, asking for more of it", you hear your friend say, and everyone titters gladly. You're sure you just saw Chanyeol wipe at his eyes, and Jongin smiling at Ada before pulling her close. "I will yell at you for staring at your laptop for nine hours straight. You'll exile yourself into your room for three days after a fight, only to be lured out with a new book. I'll break dinner plates and you'll miss deadlines and we'll be maddened by each other, but I want all of it. Only with you." He carefully touches the line of ink around Tara's wrist, the one that's identical to what he has along his neck. "This was only the reason we met. You are why I stayed."
Sehun hugs you further closer into himself as you two watch Kyungsoo unfix the ring from the box, with Tara crying in earnest as she nods and leans a hand out for him to put it on her. "That was beautiful, what he said."
"You mean all of it?"
"Of course", your boyfriend whispers back. "But he's right about people meeting for a cause completely different from the one that convinces them to stay." You quietly watch the proposal, while Sehun continues to speak. "The stars can help us meet, but only we can make each other commit. And I know what keeps me here."
You smile up at him, holding back several promises of your own. In due time, you think, they'll show themselves. "Me too", is all you say.
Everyone hollers in joy when Tara screams a tearful yes and Kyungsoo rushes up to kiss her, relief flooding his demeanour as his fiancée throws her arms around his neck, then pulls away to giggle at the way her lipstick has stained the breadth of his mouth, only to be tugged into another kiss. Her ring gleams beneath the rice lights and the tinsel hung across the porch.
"Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals", Mrs. Park yells out, with everyone cackling and amplifying the holiday cheer in a resounding reply. Her husband kisses her in celebration and she squeals as he pulls her off the floor in his own wild, flamboyant gesture of love.
"Hey", you turn to your lover, who seems like he had been waiting for you to look at him. He's always waiting for you, as he had said earlier. You think you're happy in the revelation that you had someone to come home to, all along. You just had to do some watching and wondering of your own. You're here, now, and that's all that matters. "Merry Christmas, baby."
The squad starts shuffling back into the house as the skies start pouring a burst of soft white, and you follow in their footsteps, only to be held back in a sheltered corner of the porch by Sehun, who throws an arm around your waist, taking a moment to watch the world, with you by his side. You, who he waited for. You, who he believed in. You, who he would do it for, all over again, if he had to.
"Hi." He's sure you haven't noticed the mistletoe hanging above your head, but it's not like he needs it anyway. Letting you pluck a fleck of snow off his nose, he then kisses you very soundly to an indoor chorus of chortled cheers and off-key caroling. "Merry Christmas, my love."
‘It’s the kind of thing that darkness fears, yet shadows near; it’s the kind of kiss that hatred fears, yet love near….’
Note: All unfamiliar, unknown names or anything strange found here are generated for fanfic usage only.
“Wow, this place is beautiful” Sehun admires.
The warriors safely arrived at Planet Urania after having a night rest at the Dollux Village. The Dollux thank them for saving and healing the survivors. Through communication with D.O. and Lay, they conveyed the messages that the Dollux swore to became allies with the EXO planet and will come whenever they need help.
“Welcome to Planet Urania, planet full of elemental powers in different places. I admit this place is beautiful, but remember, each places holds different elemental power, so one or few of us may feel a bit weak here” Chanyeol caution his warrior brothers. They arrive at the first part of the planet. They saw a beautiful, clean river flowing; and they notice a tiny creature playing beside the river. Chanyeol suddenly coughs. They look at him with worry. “It’s okay. I just feel a bit tired here. I am weak against water elementals.”
“Ahh…. No wonder I feel refreshed coming here” Suho delighted. His happy voice heard by the tiny creatures and they asked “Who dares to come here without permission??” and they immediately surrounded the rest of the warriors with a water bubble. They are surprised with the sudden attack.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for making you scared. I am Suho, the leader. We are from EXO planet, and we’re looking for our princess who has been kidnapped by Darkmore forces. I’m just asking if you in case have seen someone in dark robes or clothes passed by here. If you may, please take my brothers down especially Chanyeol. He’s weak at this place” Suho tries to persuade the creatures. “You seem strong. We should have a round to see how strong you are. If you can drop one of us to the ground, we will let your brothers go” one of the water elementals challenged Suho.
“I know that you are stronger than me…. You are….” However, before Suho even finishes his word, they launch attack on him. “That was close!” Suho said. “How to take them down?” He thinks while fighting. The tiny elementals launch another attack, and it splashes him hard to the ground. “Ow! That hurts!” Suho moans in pain. His brothers unable to speak since all of them trapped in a water bubble.
Suddenly, he get an idea; Kai. While Suho fights them with his right hand, he put his left hand at the back and give signal to his brothers. They understood and alert Kai to teleport to the ground. Kai gets the message, and with his teleportation power, he manage to escape the water bubble. “Hey! How did you get out from there??” The tiny elementals shift their focus to Kai. Suho see the chance, quickly make a hard splash on them. Not only one, but three of them falls to the dry ground. “Noooooo!!!! You cheat! You shall pay for this!!!”
“Enough, you girls!! What did I say about a good and bad person??” A delicate voice, yet scary; echoing through the area. The water bubble explodes, letting go of the warriors. “Mom! He is a cheater! He….”
“Silence! You are no different too. What’s wrong of him using his friends to help him? You fight him many to one” and, they could see a large water fairies come to their sight. Suho politely take a bow towards the water elementals. “Oh, forgive me for my children’s misbehaviour. We are called water fairies, the keeper of the river, sea, and all related to water. We sent many spirits to visit other planets, and your place are the cleanest one.” The mother water fairy compliments Suho.
Suho thanked the water fairy. “Now tell me, why are you, warriors from a peaceful planet come to this place?” The fairy ask. “Our princess has been taken by Darkmore forces, and we were given a task to retrieve our princess back. While fighting them first at Planet Arion, some of them manage to fled here with the princess; based on the clue that we have found” Suho explaining the situation. The fairy nods as sign of understanding.
“As a matter of fact, one of the water spirits told me that they saw a group that matches your description, across this river, while ago, going to the west. If my children didn’t play with you, maybe you have caught them and get your princess back already. Oh, I’m so sorry for that” The fairy upset. “No! Please do not be upset. I am happy that you willing to cooperate with us. Your information is valuable. Thank you very much” Suho take a bow. “Hm…. What a well-mannered gentleman,” the fairy respects Suho. “What is your name again, young one?” Suho introduced himself to the mother water fairy.
“Come closer, and close your eyes” the fairy instructs Suho. Suho gets closer, and the fairy touches him, a spirit descends and bless Suho. “Wow! What just happened?” The water fairy smiles. “I just gave you a new power; water bubble. I saw within you that you can call water into rain and such, now with this water bubble power, you could cast a water barrier, also, you could trap and defeat your enemy, the Darkmore forces. Use it for the good purposes…. Now hurry, warriors, to the west you go!”
The nine warriors thank the water fairy. They continue their journey to the west.
“Don’t believe what you see…. Don’t believe what you see….”
“Uh, see what?” Xiumin suddenly ask. “Yeah, wonder what that means” as Kai spoke, him, Sehun and Baekhyun look each other. “What did you hear?” Chen frowns. “Huh? Don’t you hear anything?” Baekhyun asking them. Chen, Chanyeol, Lay, D.O. and Suho shakes their head. “Means, only four of us can hear it….” Sehun conclude.
As they keep walking, they come across an attractive, pretty crystals along the way, until they reach a region-like-valley, full of crystal. “Is it me, or this place is really cold?” Lay ask. A similar voice with the same message heard at Xiumin, Kai, Sehun and Baekhyun ears again. At that moment….
Lay automatically teleported a bit further from them. “Lay hyung, I didn’t know you can teleport too!” Kai utters in amusement. “No! I don’t! Why am I….” And he gets transported to another place, farther from them now. Lay is attempting to get himself back to his brothers when he saw your image. “Brothers! It’s Princess Y/N! She’s running that way!” Lay dash to save you when the area strike by a heavy blizzard. The warriors are in panic.
“Okay, calm down, calm down, what should I do?” Xiumin talks to himself when an idea knocks him. Using his power, he rush making an igloo for their cover. “Get inside!” and they stay in the igloo until the blizzard fades away. “That was close!” Chen still in surprise, chilling. Baekhyun saw Chen, then holds his hand. A warm light from his hands warm Chen’s body. “Thank you,” Chen smiles; while Kai, D.O., Sehun, Suho hugs Chanyeol. “Guys? Really, really? Do you need to hug me this tight? I can just make a simple fire here….” But they keep hugging him.
“Is everyone okay?” Xiumin ask them one by one, all nodding. They leave the igloo to check on Lay, and they shocked when Lay has been frozen by the blizzard, turn into another crystal. “Lay! NOOO!!!!!” Xiumin screams. The other brothers exclaimed. “There must be something we can do to save Lay” said Suho. “I’m curious, what actually did you guys hear just now?” Suho continued.
“First, when we reach here. Me, Kai, Sehun, Baekhyun hears “Don’t believe what you see, don’t believe what you see….” And it’s repeated, two times. After that, Lay suddenly got teleported. He also said, he saw Princess Y/N, and again, teleport spontaneously. Then, blizzard storm came. We take cover. When blizzard gone, we see now Lay in this state….” Xiumin recalled the situation perfectly, but then sighed.
“Hm…. So, it’s like another test too…. Like me with the water elementals. We need to prove them, something like that. So, since this time you, Baekhyun, Kai and Sehun hears it, means the challenge are for four of you…. by saving Lay, I guess?” Suho trying to resolve the problem. “But, how do we get there? This place is full of sharp crystals, and teleportation only way to get to Lay hyung” Sehun speaks.
“Wait a minute….” Xiumin concentrates on the path. He exhales, he ponders. “Baekhyun, can you…. use your light to…. I don’t know, reflect these crystals to Lay?” Xiumin suggesting. “I can try.” Baekhyun touches the crystal, compassing his power to Lay. At that point, the light bounce to a different path, but it somehow the light orbited through Lay. “That’s it! This is the way to get to Lay! Not all of these crystals mirroring your light, can you see?” Xiumin said to his brothers, while Kai focusing himself, and….. he manage to teleport next to Lay.
“So, what about us? The snow is up to our….calf” Chen asks. “Hmm…. I can help you melt the snow” Chanyeol offers himself, producing a fire to melt the snow. But all of a sudden, all nearby snow melts together; thankfully Xiumin gets to freeze the water before it creates a flood. “No, no! Hmm…. Hmm…. Using a direct fire seems too strong here….” Xiumin is in silence again. After that, he instructs. “Chanyeol, create just a small fire from your hands. Then, um…. Sehun can you use a fire, to, uh, uh…. Smoke the area? I think it’s not fire, it’s just a warm thing to melt the snow perfectly.” Sehun understood quickly and did the job.
“Alright, snow problem solved. What about these then?” Kai shouts while pointing at the crystals. D.O. gets closer, and break one of the crystals that not reflected by Baekhyun’s power. D.O. tries again with the other crystal that reflected with the light. “I see…. The crystals that didn’t reflected are easily break” D.O. figures out, smashing all crystals that not shone by Baekhyun’s light. “D.O., can we not break anything here….” But D.O. ignoring Xiumin’s word and keep going forward. There’s no stopping D.O. from doing that. Finally, with those struggles, they are now closer to Lay that has been frozen by the blizzard. “Lay hyung….” Kai starting to cry.
“Don’t cry, my child, don’t cry….” The voice echoing the whole place, follows by a short quake, when all of them see a snow, shining giant, standing right front of them. Kai gets frightened, quickly hiding behind his warrior brothers.
“Welcome to the Frozen Crystal Valley, where you see shining, real crystals; and unfortunately, thousands of greedy, dead bodies lying here as crystals as well….” The introduction made them shiver. “However, congratulations my children, you have passed the test. Especially you, young one, who shows courage and being smart in this situation, what is your name, my child?” The giant points at Xiumin. “I am Xiumin….I am…. The eldest here. And I, I…. Have frost power….” He stammers. “You are clever, young one. You made an igloo and save your brothers from the blizzard. You prevent this place from flood that caused from melted snow. You lead your brothers a way to your teleported friend. You shall be granted a wish. What do you want, my child?” The giant asks.
“Hyung, you could ask that blizzard power! It looks cool though!” Kai suggesting, but Xiumin shakes his head. “I don’t want anything, mister, or sir, sorry I don’t know how to address you…. but, I just want my brother back. I have lost my three brothers, murdered by Darkmore forces, and I don’t want to lose another one here….” Xiumin touches Lay whom turned to frozen crystal.
“A wise choice, my child….” The giant gently touches Xiumin and Kai’s head with its huge palm. Both of them feels colder than before, but turns to normal temperature. After that, the giant swiftly blows Lay’s crystal statue, he is back, alive. “Lay!” The brothers reunited again. “So, what happen to both of them?” Suho curious. “For Xiumin, I’ve given him a blizzard power. Like what you have experience just now, you also now can cast blizzard towards your enemy. For your brother here who can teleport, I give him focus; his concentration is now as clear as a crystal, as well as, he can see the true image, what others can’t”.
“I helped too,” said the youngest brother, Sehun. They all laughed. The giant surprisingly, laugh as well. “Well, my child, don’t you feel a slight cold on your feet just now?” Sehun nods. “Well, you are blessed with Aeroportation. I saw you incorporating your wind power effectively with your fire brother when trying to melt the snow. Now with this new power, you now can teleport yourself with using cold air, wind”. Sehun grins and thank the crystal giant.
“I’m curious, what happen to the people who came here actually?” Chen implores. “Real Crystals. Greedy. Fight. Test. Blizzard. Die,” the giant answers. Chen understand what the giant mentioned. “Sir, so, if you mean I can see the true image, means what Lay saw about Princess just now was just….”
“Yes, a fake image, and your new power able to see which is false, and which is true. I believe it will help you save your Princess. Real crystals, real people can reflect light; while dead, greedy bodies here turned into crystals that even light can’t pass through; a sign of having a dark, corrupted heart, bad intention. But the strongest one made it to the Fire Mountain, North from here” the giant responds to Kai. “Last but not least, for your friend here….” The giant gets closer to Baekhyun. He swallowed, afraid when the giant goes directly near him. “Take this necklace. Use it when only you feel hopeless, despair. Your elemental is indeed, an uncommon one, my child. It’s the kind of thing that darkness fears, yet shadows near; it’s the kind of kiss that hatred fears, yet love near” the giant disappeared.
“It’s a crystal necklace. Gleaming differently than other crystals here, and I wonder what that word means just now….” Baekhyun discuss with his brothers. “Not sure, maybe we’ll figure out more along the way. Let’s go to the Fire Mountain, brothers” Suho continue leading them in their journey of finding you, the princess of EXO Planet.
note: I pre-wrote this on my typewriter without doing a word count and guess how many words this fic has... exactly 690! coincidence? I think not!
word count: 690
includes- sub!Sehun x dom!f!reader, 69ing (m on top), rim job, oral/cunnilingus
if you like my fics please reblog them with a nice comment or tag
Sehun’s eyes stared intently at the glowing screen. His tongue was slightly hanging out of his mouth, and you could count the pearls of sweat trickling down his neck.
You silently move up behind him, your hand gliding through his hair as soon as it’s in reach.
Sehun shivers as your breath fans against his skin, alerting him of your presence. You begin to leave a trail of kisses down his neck and his tense shoulders relax at the comfort of your touch.
He sighs, leaning back into his chair in frustration.
“I’ve been trying to beat this level for almost and hour, but I keep dying at this one point…”
His breath was loud, and his heart was beating so fast it almost jumped out of his chest.
“Mhh, maybe you should take a break, join me in bed.”
The offer was tempting but you knew how stubborn he could be. There was no point in trying to reason with him when he was in one of his competitive moods.
“Fine, guess I’ll have to use my own fingers then, since yours are busy.”
Sehun gulps, his pointer finger tapping rapidly against his mouse.
You make a turn, but he suddenly rolls back his chair and grabs onto your wrist to stop you from leaving.
“Wait, you’re right, I should take a break and it seems like you’re in more desperate need of help than I am with this game.”
You can’t help but chuckle as you watch his cheeks turn red at his own words.
You swiftly pull him out of his chair and push him onto the soft linens of your bed, which was waiting on the other side of the room. Straddling his lap, you grab onto his collar to pull him in for a rough kiss.
It didn’t take much to turn him on and the soft yet dirty feeling of your tongue against his own was enough to tighten his pants.
You grind your hips onto his erection, making him moan into your mouth. Flipping the two of you over you swiftly take off his pants and he does the same to yours.
“Sit on my face.”, you demand, and he immediately obeys.
His hard cock slaps against your necks as he sinks onto your precious features. He bends down to expose his puckering hole and you spread your legs so he can play with your clit.
You let your tongue run over his hot skin, teasing his rim and his short nails dig into your hips desperately.
Sehun harshly sucks your clit, as if it gave him some kind of halt or comfort, but the ruthless teasing of your tongue made him weak beyond belief.
Breathless moans of your name fall from his lips as you gently masse his balls with one hand.
He tries his best to please you with his tongue, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything but your magical wet digit.
“Fuck”, his curses were muffled by your throbbing heat, and you could feel hot drips of precum decorate your torso.
His thighs were shaking next to your shoulders as you push your tongue past his pink rim,
He absentmindedly licks your sensitive bundle of nerves as he pushes his ass back onto your tongue.
Sehun’s eyes were crossed, and his vision became blurry as his stomach tensed up and he could feel his orgasm coming.
You calmly caress his twitching thigh as you let go of his balls and rub the tip of his cock in your palm.
His hips stutter, then he jolts, as you tug on his tip and push your tongue into his hole once more.
He almost bites your clit in surprise as he cums, hard, and spurts semen onto your chest.
His heavy breaths tickle your heat, and you reach down to finish yourself off. Thrusting yourself up against his tongue, you moan his name as you cum and Sehun eagerly licks you clean.
You gently tap his ass as to say: “Well done, baby!”, and he hums against your pussy satisfied.
That, indeed, had been much more rewarding than his game.
tagging: @sannieshines who was thirsting over this concept with me
Welcome to Hyde House, the most well-known and respected home of Bondage, Discipline, Dominance, Submission, Sadism, and Masochism. We have an impressive array of tools, rooms, and, yes, even Doms to suit your kinks and fetishes. Whether you are new to kink or know well the nature of your demons, Hyde House has what you are looking for.
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⚠️A/N: The stories featured here are all rated M and meant for adults age 18 or older. These stories take place in the same alternate universe and there is some overlap in the details, but each is a stand alone work and can be read as such. However, in case there is anyone who cares, I put these in order based on when they were posted. I will be excluding Jongdae for my own comfort, I hope all my readers will understand. Thank you for your support and read responsibly!⚠️
a thief sneaks into the bedroom of a sleeping man to steal the most valuable item in the home. the connection to the item and the trust its holder has toward them is one they must break to finish the job.
genre: crime au (sort of? reader is involved in the crimes)! angst.
author’s note: so in my class today we had to write a mini narrative piece based on a prompt my teacher gave us (we’re learning about exemplification). naturally my nerdy ass gets way too carried away and writes more than expected and turns it into a tragic angsty love story. i read it aloud to my class and my teacher (who i really like) said it was beautiful (which was really great to hear lol!!) here’s a modified and longer version of said piece. enjoy!! <3
One-thirty in the morning.
You slowly push the window up, careful not to let it squeak. You’ve been here before; that damn window always squeaks in the same exact place. You luckily manage to deter the squeak and slowly slip inside the bedroom.
You look longingly at the man before you, sleeping in his bed without a care in the world. You mumble a quick apology in his direction before tiptoeing toward the dresser. A closed jewelry box sits atop the mahogany, anticipating your touch.
The box opens without a sound, practically glowing when the chain is revealed to you, the moonlight allowing it to sparkle right before your eyes. Gleefully, you wrap your gloved hand around the gold and place it into your pocket.
After closing the box, you woefully blow a kiss in the man’s direction and slip out the window, not bothering to shut it. Right as you make it onto the ground, the sound of the squeak permeates in the cool night air.
You look up at your former lover and notice tears in his eyes. Sehun stares down at you, fully aware of what you’ve taken from him. He doesn’t call to you like he has before, rather he chooses to continue to stare at you. You swallow all feelings of regret and turn away from him. You slip through the bushes, your hand still holding the chain.
Despite having spent most of the night tossing and turning, I manage to get up bright eyed and bushy at 10am. Actually, the bright eyed part is a total lie because my eyes are struggling to stay open. Nevertheless, I drag myself out of the house to run my errands.
Thanks to the surprisingly smooth traffic flow and empty bank and supermarket, I manage to complete all my stipulated tasks in less than 2 hours.
I am actually humming when i’m in the lift, going up to my apartment. I don’t know where the chirpiness in me is coming from when I barely got any sleep the night before, and am confused as hell because of Sehun.
As soon as I step into the threshold of my apartment though, the puzzlement in me dies away and my stomach drops at the view in front of me.
Seulgi is seated on the kitchen island with Sehun between her parted legs, and she is leaving love bites all over his milky neck. This is the first time i’m seeing them being intimate and I don’t know which of the two I want to punch more.
What the heck happened to the conservative fogey who wouldn't even French kiss her boyfriend?
My nose prickles and there is a sudden sharp pain in my left chest, like I have been shot, or like someone is squeezing my heart. I am holding onto the door knob for dear life as I sink down to my knees. There are tears swimming in my eyes and I just want the floor below me to open and swallow me up.
I am taking in short gasps of breath and am struggling because i’m trying to stay as inconspicuous as I can so that the couple doesn’t see me in a heap.
My ears are ringing and i’m praying to god that i’m hallucinating. But of course when the suckling sounds from the kitchen wander to my ears, I know i’m definitely not.
I really ought to just give myself a proper beating up. I should have known not to be swayed by Sehun’s humbug statements. What the heck was I thinking? This was the jerk who said he would marry someone else but still fuck me on the side. And yet, I still let him have his way with me the night before.
My sweaty palms slip off the door knob to wipe the tears dripping down my chin and as a result, the door slams shut with a loud bang.
Seulgi squeaks and jumps away from Sehun, her cheeks are aflame. They both are staring at me, muddled, because I'm squatting with bags of groceries around me, looking like I've just lost a loved one.
Seulgi gasps and hops off the kitchen counter.
“Are you alright?” Sehun interrogates before his girlfriend can even open her mouth.
My housemate glances at her boyfriend weirdly because this is the first time he is saying something to me other than hi or bye, in front of her that is, and it is very unbecoming of him.
But it doesn’t deter Seulgi because she then hits me with a, “yeah, are you ok?” She frowns, utterly worried.
I offer my housemate a small but fake smile, and nod soullessly as I attempt to hobble back onto my feet.
“Just tired and stressed from work.”
Sehun is watching me with concern written all over his brows as I join him and his girlfriend in the kitchen, but I don’t even bat an eyelash in his direction. My eyes stay solely on Seulgi even though it was her boyfriend who asked me the question first, while I cook up a lie about how my boss is overworking me. I try my best to remain indifferent towards the male.
Seulgi pats me on the arm and offers me a reassuring grin.
“Don’t be stressed, ok?”
I inwardly roll my eyes.
Wow, what great advice. That really helped.
Not wanting to be in the company of the couple any longer, I muster a polite nod of acknowledgement before I inform Seulgi that i’m going to retire to my room. I quickly shove all my groceries into their respective places, making sure to steer clear of the area where the two had been frisky at, and then all but run off.
The only thing I can think about in my fragile state is how much I want to curl up under my blanket and wail my heart out. However, I don't even get the opportunity to gather my emotions because my phone chimes. It is a message from my boyfriend.
Jonginnie: Be up in 7.
I curse out loud. I can’t let Jongin see my red rimmed eyes, he’ll definitely try to pry the truth out of me. I spring into action, quickly washing my face and blending in some concealer over my dark circles for good measure.
I’m unable to hide all my blemishes to a T, but at least I don’t seem as haggard and like i’ve just had a tear fest. I study my reflection in the mirror one last time and when i’m satisfied, I exit my room to wait for Jongin.
Just as I step out, Seulgi is rushing out babbling something on the lines of ‘my pregnant sister is gonna pop,’ leaving only Sehun and I in the apartment.
The male is on the living room couch with his legs parted and his arms resting against the backrest. Usually I hate when guys have the audacity to manspread, but now, all I want to do is just march right up to him and kick him in the balls.
Sehun perks up when he senses my appearance. His eyes stalk my every move as I make my way towards his direction and sit down on the couch, as far away from him as possible.
My eyes are on the TV but all I can see is Sehun’s fingers combing through Seulgi’s hair as she leaves marks on his neck, and all I can hear are his heavy breaths. It is like the whole scene is encrypted in my brain. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, hoping the image would just magically fall right out of my head.
I am hyperaware of Sehun’s focus on me because my breathing rate is picking up but I don’t pay him any heed.
Sehun clears his throat, expecting me to turn my attention to him. He parts his mouth to say something, but before he can do that, he’s interrupted by the sound of someone keying in the passcode to the apartment.
Thinking it's Seulgi, Sehun sits down properly and faces the TV, gaze flickering between the screen and the front door. But it isn’t who he expects it to be.
As soon as my boyfriend enters the foyer of my apartment, he calls out for me with glee and like an excited puppy, I hop off the couch and rush to him.
Jongin hasn’t even fully stepped out of shoes yet but I'm already dragging him towards my room. We whizz pass the living room so fast that he doesn’t get the opportunity to see Sehun lounging there.
I shove Jongin into my room and slam the door behind us. With my palms on his chest, I back him up against the door. There’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
“What’s up, baby girl?”
I freeze and my expression falters for a second when Jongin calls me that. It is something he always calls me, but somehow, my mind keeps rewinding to the night before, when Sehun relentlessly called me the same pet name.
I am silent for a little too long and there is worry building up on Jongin’s face. But he barely manages to get another word in when I start pulling at his shirt to distract him. I don’t bother undoing the buttons one by one, that’s too troublesome. I just pull at the plackets, sending a tornado of buttons flying around my room.
Jongin is flabbergasted by my sudden animalistic behaviour but he doesn’t peep a word. He lets me have my way and even aids me by pulling the shirt off his shoulders. While I busy myself with working on the male's belt buckle, he manages to pull my top over my head and make quick work on my bra before discarding it into the corner.
Jongin's pants hit the floor with a clang. He steps out of them and kicks them to the side. He shoves my shorts and panties down at the same time and before I know it, i'm stark naked.
My boyfriend cards his fingers through my hair then glides his hand down my neck and the length of my body, not forgetting to graze my nipples with his fingernails along the way. At the same time, he sinks down to his knees while maintaining eye contact with me. He gingerly holds onto my right calf and places my foot on his shoulder. He propels forward, peppering kisses all over my inner thighs. I sigh with anticipation.
As a finale, Jongin leaves a kiss on my swollen clit that is peeking out of my folds, and that makes my hips jerk forward.
The male uses his thumbs to part my pussy lips and then he goes to town, licking me from my clit to my hole, over and over again. A wanton cry leaves my throat before I lose balance, body falling onto the door behind me with a loud bang.
I am quivering and panting but Jongin doesn’t let up. Without warning, he shoves his tongue into my opening.
"Holy shit!" I choke out and grab a fistful of his hair.
Jongin is lapping me up like he hasn’t had a drop of water to drink in days. My hips are jerkily moving about, basically riding his tongue and pressing my clit against his cute nose. On one hand, I want to press more of Jongin’s head into me, but on the other hand, I can feel the embers in me stirring up rather quickly so I want him to stop.
Even though I want to cum already, I shakily reach out to nudge Jongin's shoulders.
Jongin pulls away at once. He sits back on his knees, wide eyes examining me with worry. He traces my features, searching for any signs of pain on my face. My wetness is all over his mouth and on the tip of his nose and he just looks so hot when he's panting for air.
"You ok? Did I hurt you?” He questions as he rubs soothing circles onto my ankle.
I quirk him a smile and shake my head.
"Just don't want to cum unless you're in me," I finish with a shrug.
Jongin breathes out a sigh of relief and wipes the invisible droplet of sweat from his brow. His concern for me is so endearing that I can't help but bend down to hold his jaw between my fingers before pressing open mouthed kisses on the side of his lips, at the same time, tasting myself.
I feel Jongin’s cushions morph into a smile as he slowly stands to his full height, bringing me up with him. He has a gentle hold on my hips where he caresses the skin for a bit and then he leans down to wrap his arms around my thighs to lift me.
I am still sensitive from when Jongin ate me so when the tip of his dick nudges my clit, my lower body jumps away from him and I hiss, my neck rolling to the side.
“Let’s take this to the bed.”
“No,” I halt him. “I want you to take me here.”
Jongin staggers in his step and tumbles forward, pressing my tailbone into the door when I start gyrating my hips to coat his member with my juices. When his hands knead my bum for dear life and his eyes are roll to the back of his head, I know he’s giving into my request.
“Shit, baby girl, why are you so needy?”
I let out a guttural pant and reach under me to align Jongin’s length against my entrance. I slowly ease him into my opening and when the mushroom tip is in me, my boyfriend’s patience wears thin because for the first time ever, he slams into me in one swift motion instead of slowly easing himself in.
I yelp at the sudden intrusion and immediately grip onto Jongin’s shoulders, leaving crescent scars on his smooth, tan skin. My toes curl and my lips form a perfect circle because I am too overwhelmed. He fucks me just the way I like it, hard and deep.
“You’re so big!”
Jongin lets out an airy chuckle.
“You're flattering me sweetheart, you’re the one who's too fucking tight to be real.”
I bite my lip shyly and Jongin’s vision zooms in on that.
“Don’t bite your lip, baby girl, give it to me,” and then he puckers his lip, waiting for me to mend them.
I tighten my arms around my boyfriend's neck, pulling his plush pout onto mine.
Our kiss is sloppy and messy because I am constantly bouncing up and down in Jongin’s hold. It is uncomfortable when our teeth clash and when I have to bend my head awkwardly to kiss the male but we somehow make it happen.
“You feel so good inside me!”
This time, Jongin bites the side of his lip and shoots me a devilishly handsome grin.
The both of us continuously move in sync. Every time Jongin thrusts up into me, I slam my body down and the pleasure coursing through my veins increases tenfold. He squeezes my butt cheeks, encouraging me to slam down on him harder.
I purposely tighten my walls and Jongin yelps. I giggle when he looks like he wants to get back at me for the surprise attack.
“Jesus, sweetheart, give me a warning first!”
I feel the familiar twinge between my legs and I know Jongin does too because he starts tormenting my clit, just rubbing the bud until it is red and sensitive. I'm unable to make any noises, it’s as if my vocal chords have closed up. My mouth is parted and I keep letting out breathy gasps.
“Oh, god, baby girl, look at me when you come! I need to see you!”
Jongin gives my bundle of nerves a break and opts to hold my face steady against the door, his gaze piercing into mine. His palm cups my cheek, thumb caressing my bottom lip.
“Ooh, harder, baby!” I breathlessly exclaim especially loudly with every intention of letting Sehun hear me.
I dig the heels of my feet into Jongin’s firm butt and throw my head back in exhilaration when his strokes become frenzied.
The coil in my stomach snaps and I shudder deliriously before pressing my forehead onto Jongin’s so that I'm steady. My grool coats his dick nicely but that doesn't stop him from wildly drilling into me.
The door I am resting on is shaking and banging, practically protesting against all the sporadic and harsh movements that is being inflicted on it.
Before he can complete his sentence, Jongin's hips stutter and he blows his thick load right into my womb. I wail out and tremble when I feel him painting my walls white, and then I cum again.
It takes us a while but when we've finished shuddering and wheezing for air, Jongin's grip on my butt loosens and his frazzled body slumps onto mine, pressing my hips painfully into the door. My legs that were around his waist give way and I start sliding down because we're both sweaty and filthy.
Jongin gathers the last of his strength to sear a kiss on the inside of my wrist before he hugs my body closer to him and walks us to my bed.
He deposits me onto the mattress first then collapses beside me with a bounce. As if we're unlike poles of a magnet, I inch closer to Jongin and wrap an arm around his waist, curling up into his body. The male doesn't protest and snuggles me closer, his nose is digging into my hair and his lips are pressing against the crown of my head.
I use my toes to pull the blanket over us and as soon as I'm fully surrounded by warmth, I start drifting off to dreamland with the sound of Jongin's rhythmic breathing.
Despite my sore limbs and aching core, I manage to get up approximately an hour later. It is almost 5:30 in the evening and since it’s a Saturday, I know Jongin has plans to visit his mother. So, i’m left with no choice but to wake him up.
“Baby,” I call softly as I tap my boyfriend’s arm.
I hear a moan of acknowledgement but Jongin only changes his position, flopping onto his stomach and digging his nose into my pillow. He looks so much like an adorable puppy that I just have to lean in and give him a kiss on his puffed up cheek.
“Jongin-ah, you have to get up. Your mum will be waiting,” I gently whisper into his ear.
At the mention of his mother, Jongin shoots up from the bed. I smile tenderly when I see that his hair is sticking out in all directions. Even though I know it’s useless, I try my best to tame his mane, only to snicker when they jump back into their original haywire position.
Eventually, I manage to drag Jongin into my ensuite and we start our shower. We both sigh in unison when the warm water hits our bodies, melting the kinks and sores we attained earlier.
Jongin is standing listlessly under the rain shower, still groggy from his nap, so I force him down onto the shower bench and then start lathering his hair with shampoo. The male leans against the wall behind him with a content groan, letting me do whatever I want.
I am standing between his spread legs and Jongin has his arms loosely swung around my waist. I amuse myself by giving him different soapy hairstyles, and chuckling at my creations. Jongin just shakes his head affectionately, like he’s so done with my childish antics.
I know it’s time for Jongin and I to properly shower when my fingers start turning pruny. I tug my boyfriend forth till he’s resting his head against my tummy, so that I can wash the back of his head.
Jongin snuggles his nose into my belly button and imprints his lips on my soft skin. I hum in appreciation as I pamper my boyfriend by massaging his head for a bit.
I push the soapy suds away from Jongin’s forehead to see that his eyes are closed. From the weight of his head, I know he’s slowly falling asleep again. It breaks my heart that I have to wake him up when he looks so peaceful, but I have no other choice. He has places to go.
I wash my hands before tapping Jongin’s cheek lightly.
“Baby?” I coo. “Wake up, you have to go to your mum’s place soon.”
Jongin mumbles something incoherent but eventually darts away from me. He pouts and rubs the bleariness out of his eyes before standing under the rain shower and washing his body.
The rest of our shower session passes quite uneventfully, what with Jongin being too sleepy to do anything other than stand under the water. If it was any other time, we’d be all over each other.
Thankfully I have a stash of Jongin’s clothes in my closet or he would have had to leave my apartment with a ripped shirt. He picks out a plain black t-shirt from the pile and re-wears the pair of jeans he came over in.
I am in the mood to wear something that smells like my boyfriend so I grab a white shirt that he has grown out of, and slip my arms into the sleeves.
“Mmmm, baby, oppa marked you so well,” Jongin remarks as he pulls the collar of his dress shirt aside to trace his fingers over the purplish marks. I quickly glance into the mirror to see all the hickies blooming on my neck and clavicle.
My cheeks redden and I cling onto Jongin’s arm as we step out of my room. I don’t bother wearing pants and a bra since i’m only going to send him to the door and then head back into my room.
I lean against the doorframe of the foyer while Jongin laces up his shoes. My eyes twinkle as I stare down at him. His hair is damp and messy with his fringe falling into his eyes, and yet, he still looks strapping. I can see some scratch marks on his biceps, leading up into his t-shirt. I bite the side of my lip shyly as pride blooms in my chest.
When Jongin gets up from squatting, the corners of his lips quirk up, eyes turning into cresents when he sees that I am glowing. He comes closer and wraps his arms around my body, cradling my head into his chest. He slips his hands under the hem of my (his) shirt to caress my butt cheeks before playfully smacking and kneading them.
Gosh, this man and his love for my ass.
Jongin has me giggling when we pull apart. He wrinkles his nose cutely and leans in for a quick kiss. The smile on my lips is permanent because he’s being too cute, and it’s tugging at my heartstrings.
Jongin greets with a final flying kiss as I wave at him with a minuscule pout. I sigh breathily before pushing myself off the wall once he is out the door.
I only manage to take a step when I realise that Sehun is still sitting on the couch.
There’s a sort of dark energy radiating around him and I just want to jump for joy and cheer because this is what he deserves for hurting me after feeding me all those sweet words the night before.
I peer away from Sehun and face ahead, my only goal is to reach my room and it is going to take a little more effort than usual because I can already feel the dull soreness in my nether region.
I have already started puttering to my room when Sehun clears his throat. I freeze on my spot and swallow when he turns off the TV and comes to me. His brows are crinkled in disapproval and there is discontentment written all over his features, but he puts those emotions aside for a moment to show his concern.
“Why did you cry just now? Did you,” he pauses, expression suddenly nervous, “did you see something?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
I act clueless for a second, tongue poking my cheek in annoyance.
“Ah, are you talking about when your girlfriend was sucking on your neck?" I ask with a passive aggressive smile and my brows raised, condescendence clear in my tone.
"Yeah, I did. Thanks for the show, Sehun, I watched it really well!”
“No, don’t misunderstand. I-"
“Save it, Sehun-sshi, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re Seulgi’s boyfriend, you guys are allowed to be all over each other. Who am I to comment right?” I clap back with a nonchalant shrug.
“Just hear me out! It meant nothing. We were just-"
His voice is panic-stricken and I'm just wondering where in the world he gets the audacity to act like he cares about my feelings.
I cut him off again with my hand in the air, unwilling to hear any more of his excuses.
“Drop your pretentious act, Sehun. I've had enough of your prattling and i’m not buying it anymore.”
There is a beat of silence between us until I burst, the fire pits in me erupting.
“I can’t believe I loved you! How could I love you when you only treat me like a plaything? Like a replacement source of pleasure just because your girlfriend isn’t giving you any.”
I’m almost ripping my hair out in frustration because really, i’m so fucking stupid.
Sehun’s brows are furrowed like he’s confused.
“You-you love me?”
“Yes, I did! And I fucking loathe myself for it!”
Sehun comes closer and reaches out for my shoulder, attempting to comfort me.
“Don’t fucking touch me! And don’t fucking act like you care about me!” I scream bloody murder and swat his hands away.
I feel a certain warmth on my cheeks and that’s when I realise i’m crying. I swipe the tears angrily with my palms.
I can’t believe i’m crying because of Oh Sehun again. He has constantly hurt me and even though I know the consequences by heart, I keep letting him walk all over me time and again. But enough is enough. This is the last time i’m going to shed tears for my housemate’s man.
“You’re really the biggest asshole,” I start with a venomous glare, “and I don’t want to see you again, ever. I hate you!”
It is crystal clear that I don’t mean the last sentence because my voice cracks.
Before my true emotions come to light, I scurry into my room and shut the door behind me. My legs weaken and I fall back onto the piece of wood before slowly sliding down until i’m seated with my knees propped up, a hand clutching my head due to the impending headache and the other one pounding on my chest to relieve the ache that is blooming there.
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