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#hwa :: visuals
wingsnwangs · 10 months
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floriseu · 4 months
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ꫂ ၴႅၴᯓ Num piscar de olhos eu tava num lugar tão bom, e sem pensar, eu me joguei. Foi você que me fez pular. E me faz te querer por perto; olho aberto, sempre alerto.
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analogboii · 1 month
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yk what pic of seonghwa is also insane??
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like are you JOKING?? 🛐🛐🛐
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jungwonderz · 11 months
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how you get the man of your dreams - l.hs
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synopsis - yn finally lands a job at a good paying company , duolingo. her task is to think of ways to get more publicity / bring attention to said company. what better way than to publicly show her love for an idol? maybe this is her chance for him to finally recognize her, while giving attention to the company.
pairing - heeseung x fem!reader
warnings - cursing , kms/kys jokes , mentions of food , bullying , hurtful words (later on) , no set face claim - pictures are for visuals
started - 11/01/23
ended - N/A
taglist - open !! bold cannot be tagged @hoonvrs @seongclb @kjrcrz @fakeuwus @jeongintwt @luvistqrzzz @ghostiiess @l0ve-joy @k1ttylvr @manooffline @ramenoil @thisisnotjacinta @sungookie @marybboooooooo @teddywonss @oldjws @jihanlovic @nyxvrse @neocockthotology @riziwon @j-wyoung @httpsneptvnn @heavenhannie @wonsays @heelovesmeknot @thesassy-mia @pluviophilefangirl @neoculturewhat @fluerz @trashx678 @ineedsomezzz @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @i-hwa @ahnneyong @toeslicker @silverfond @renaishun @mrowwww @junsflow @itsactuallylina @nishimurasgirl @heerinnie @enhalovie @222brainrot @rikisly @mochamvgz @filmofhybe @enharts @ashiitex @moaqong @angrybananapolice @jaylans-stuff @tytrackfebreze @heestrawberries
a/n - hi guys🤍 yes a new smau even tho secret idol has been ignored for the last 3 months..😂 ANYWAYS this smau will not be serious and it’s just a fun little joke !! feel free to give ideas / tips💕
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PROFILES
chaconne deez nuts , duolingo slaves
CHAPTERS
0.) the text
1.) finally employed
2.) felt cute might delete later (written)
3.) i’m just a girl
4.) scammed💔
5.) …
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hwaightme · 9 months
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Impressionism
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(masterlist) (taglist)
🩸 pairing: vampire!gallerist/collector!seonghwa x art historian!gn!reader 🩸 genre: fluff, noir, soulmates, supernatural, strangers(?) to lovers, art nerding 🩸 summary: a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art? 🩸 wordcount: 12.3k 🩸 warnings/tags: questionable editing, mention of blood, fangs, wounds, suggestive, many pet names (love, darling etc), art theory/history ponderings, time skips, mention of rituals, philosophy, hwa is centuries-old, yearning hwa 🩸 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🩸 a/n: happy birthday to @starrysvn!! lheo, ilysm, and i hope you enjoy this little rambling <3 hugs to everyone, all reblogs, notes and comments appreciated! 🩸 playlist: nfwmb - hozier, who is she? - i monster, keep on loving you - cas, la vie en rose - edith piaf, a l'ombre de nous - pierre barouh, les feuilles mortes / sous le ciel de paris - yves montand, moon over bourbon street / until - sting
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‘Love and Pain’ - an enigmatic masterpiece that was painted by Edvard Munch, the famous Norwegian artist, in 1895. In vibrant oil paints a dramatic scene interpreted by millions as something more sensual, darker, revealing was immortalised. Perhaps quite literally. You leaned back on one hand, feeling the coolness of the bench located in the middle of the gallery hall, careful to not let the notebook in your hands slip from your lap. ‘Vampire’ - first, it was a label for the woman with the alluring, long red locks that was leaning over her supposed lover, then it turned into a second name for the work. It was comical how Munch himself had initially stated the piece depicted nothing more than a woman kissing the neck of a man, and yet, the tale had told itself. What followed were six versions of this same subject, with a woodcut titled “Vampyr II”, followed by paintings titled ‘Vampire’ and ‘Vampire in the Forest’, and then through common acceptance that this indeed was the ‘submission of a man to the bite of a vampire’, if you were to paraphrase a critic who had been in an astoundingly similar position as you, except without the decades upon decades of other material to refer to. They had been the firstcomers, the initial perceivers to set the tone for society’s consumption of the artwork, the louder of the many voices in the artwork who often had the final say. In some senses, they were your long lost colleagues - they were there to create history, and you were there to study it.
While it was not exactly a part of the movement you had decided to specialise in, you nonetheless would never reject the opportunity to learn more about the stunning world of visual arts, trying to guess how the artist had felt in the moment, what did they see beyond what they presented to the world, how did they translate the heart into brushstrokes. You were taken by all forms of art since you were little - having grown up surrounded by items that were far removed from what you called your air, you were intrigued by anything that was external to your version of ordinary. In your case, it just so happened to be the little private gallery that you had spent almost all of your monthly allowance to visit when you were a school kid - you had been so dedicated, in fact, that the elderly guard who had often also acted as a guide to the visitors had become your first friend in the art world, something of a grandparent figure, and on multiple occasions - when the lack of eyes would allow, simply let you through with a grin and glance out of the entrance doors.
And so here you were, many years later, many hard decisions and conversations behind you, regarding artworks with an unprecedented soulful closeness that you had initially thought was unattainable. Had you believed all those who remained outside of the walls of your personal paradise, you would have been immersed in the same cycle that had been drilled into the majority of your family members, except maybe a handful who you had never met for the exact reason that they had chosen something for themselves. But you regarded your dream as the thorned path - undoubtedly more challenging, not immediately fruitful, but in the long run leading to the heaven of your design. What more could you ask for?
It was enjoyable to be alone with the paintings surrounding you, portals to new realms that any visitor could have the pleasure of exploring. And what was even more inspiring, was that in the eye of every beholder was a different universe, and no matter who one would speak to, their version of the painting would be different, even if just slightly. You huffed, amused. When was the last time you had visited a gallery with anyone else? You could not quite recall - it was likely that you had never seeked company from another because you were more than satisfied with the company of the legendary works that were regarding you from the many walls. It was possible to compose oneself, spend limitless time on every piece, study the details, and drift into one’s own musings when there was no one to ground them. This was when you dared to say you got your best work done. Even though you, of course, conducted research within university and ventured out to galleries, museums, collectors or auctions only within professional bounds, the bulk of the thinking process was carried out in times such as this. When it was just you, your notebook and pen, and a new point of focus. However, this time, you could not say you were fully attentive to the painting that you had decided to focus on, as a certain someone was appearing to share your level of interest in ‘Love and Pain’ too. 
A gentleman who could not be much older or younger than you, at most a couple of years, stood off to the right of the bench, unmoving, gaze fixated on the painting. Dressed in a pinstripe navy suit, light blue dress shirt, lacquered dress shoes and a matching navy tie, he was nothing short of being a moving work of art. Hints of a glimmer from his thin framed, elegant silver spectacles gave the man a scholarly aura, while the slicked back dark hair - evidently a lot longer than the styling would suggest, added notes of business, entrepreneurship, perhaps leadership. Nothing was out of place, not a crease, not an exposed thread in sight. Needless to say, your curiosity had been sparked.
Much like you found joy in exploring creations in the realm of the visual arts, you were fond of crafting stories about the people who were strangers in passing. You could not help it; perhaps this affinity for creative internal ramblings had come as a package with studying the degree you had selected, or perhaps this was a naturally occurring guilty pleasure that you simply had not had the chance to entertain before you cut yourself off from expectations and predetermined patterns of thought. But now, you had the full pleasure of wondering, letting your mind travel to lands far away as you took the real life masterpiece in, and pondered why the man could be here, what he could be thinking as he studied Munch’s work, and what resonated with him, and only him. 
There was a melancholia with the weight of centuries resting upon his shoulders, that much you could decipher in the stranger’s stance. Even then, there was a gentle burning flame within his heart judging by just how dedicated he was to inspecting the artwork. Like he was seeing an old friend for the first time in years, and was attempting to memorise them anew and recognise each change, bit by bit. You suppressed a chuckle, entertaining the possibility of this man finding a kinship with the painting, but chose to set the idea aside for the time being, instead focusing on sketching his emotional landscape. Was the stranger remorseful? Lonely? Perplexed? You could not quite pinpoint the answer, at least not before you noticed the man’s head starting to turn, and soon enough, his eyes were peering into your own.
They were two pools of deep chocolate, an all-consuming shade that, due to the ever so slightly dimmer lights than in the general halls of the gallery, appeared to be approaching a captivating onyx. The gaze that originated from behind the glasses, and glided across the room that was suddenly too small for two struck you, and you could feel heat starting to rise on your face, blush threatening to reveal the effect of the man’s spontaneous act of confidence. Lowering your head, you gave the stranger a sheepish grin, and pretended to make a random note, pen erratically scribbling over a filled page. He continued to regard you with that same unwavering expression, and only when you looked up again did he seem to catch himself and give you a closed-mouth smile, equally as bashful as yours, and crossed his arms. One step, another, and he was right by the painting, though careful to not obstruct your view - instead, he took his time to read the brief paragraph on the information plaque that had been stuck to the wall off to the side of ‘Love and Pain’. With the same familiarity that is common among those grieving, or in a state of existential sorrow. A bittersweetness prevailed in his aura, one that reminded you of autumn - the falling leaves in red and gold, twirling to join a magnificent carpet, but nonetheless, making a departure, albeit a nearly unnoticeable one. Had he seen many fallen leaves? Was he himself approaching the season? You gasped, but even though the sound was barely audible, you caught the stranger making a minuscule turn in response. 
His footsteps were louder than your thoughts, his departure an irrevocably impactful act that left you breathless. You did not know him, and yet you felt as though you had gotten a glimpse at multiple lifetimes, and were part of a moment that was greater than yourself. In the wordless exchange, question after question had found its root, and something told you that you should not dare attempt to craft him a backstory, and choosing to believe in anything but what would be declared by him would be a gross misinterpretation, much like one that was carried out by those who did not wish to reflect on art and look beyond a first impression. For the first time since you had made your initial discovery of the arts, you felt like you were not alone in the gallery, the other visitor’s presence remained so intense that he could be sat right next to you, scrutinising the same painting, entertaining the same thought. Was the woman with the bright tresses indeed what she had been declared to be over the many years she had been introduced to many venues, many variations of public, and finally finding a home on this wall? Did she settle with her lover, or perhaps a carefully selected victim? Would the man have an answer?
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ . It was unlike you to retrace your steps a mere few days after a visit and return to the same gallery, amble down the same halls, and seek for a new source of investigative inspiration among the same selection. This obviously did not mean that you would never return, definitely not, that would be almost criminal of you to possess such intentions, but you tended to try to cleanse your palate with alternative movements, contemporary takes and avant garde interpretations between searches which were more directly related to your studies. And yet, for the first time in a while, nothing was stopping you from your return. It felt only natural, and so right. Moreover, you felt no unease when you headed straight towards the section that housed the impressionists. An individual with an unspoken, mysterious mission, you were on the hunt for the creative streak, something that would help you ponder the next section of your hefty dissertation, and you could sense that it had to be somewhere here. And, like always, you were right.
‘Bazille’s Studio’, one of the most famous works painted by the so-called ‘tragic artist’ of the impressionists, Frédéric Bazille in 1870. In fact, it had been a collaboration between him and Édouard Manet, another gifted artist, though more renowned as a figure leading modernism, and depicted a scene of discussion and creative collaboration in the studio that Bazille had shared for a certain period of time with other spectacular figures of the visual arts, Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, who could also be found in this painting. On the walls were works rejected by the Salon, which at the time had been the one of the most influential, famous art exhibitions in the Western World, administered by the Académie des Beaux-Arts in Paris. Interestingly, above the piano on the right hung a painting which Bazille had purchased from Monet, potentially hinting at the material ties between them, and the importance the young artist had because of his familial wealth. In a sense, Bazille expressed his support, as well as showed an intimate, platonic scene of the art world where there was a moment of calm, of mutual appreciation, despite the financial troubles and tensions due to character that had been experienced in those walls.
You stepped closer to the painting, trying to detect the transition from Bazille’s to Manet’s hand, the latter of whom painted in the former to take ‘centre stage’, palette in hand. Truly seamless work, though what else could it be? This painting had been a new addition to the permanent collection, and after strenuous, detailed restoration work to give the oil paints their original vibrancy and for impeccable strokes to forget the burden of time, you had the pleasure of seeing it in person. You were an arm’s length away from yet another work essential to history, culture and the arts as a societal colossus.
While it was easy enough to appreciate the technical detail, you found yourself halting to remember the names of all those depicted in the painting, failing to finalise the list in your head. Starting from Bazille, you had determined for yourself the presence of Monet and Manet in his vicinity quickly enough, however where Renoir was, or what were the names of the two other gentlemen in the scene, slipped your mind. You rocked to the side to lean closer to the plaque that was meant to provide you with the information, however you only found the name of the painting, the artist and the medium, much to your misfortune. Clicking your tongue, you returned to studying the faces of each individual, and furrowed your brows in agitated concentration. It was simple to take out your phone and search for the answer, though you knew that just as neutral that action would be, so would be your reaction unless you were to remember, or somebody were to-
A presence to your side caught you off-guard, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. One glance was enough to determine that it was the same man from yesterday, only the outfit revealing a change. Other than that, he had the same impeccable posture and stance, as well as a thoughtful look towards the painting in front of you both. His arms were crossed, though not in a defensive manner; instead they offered an interpretation of philosophy, as though this man was carrying centuries of wisdom with him, history having pummelled down on him and yet needing to support it like Atlas; the titan carrying the world.
Today, he was dressed in a mahogany coloured suit, with a white top underneath and some black boots with thick white rubber soles - quite the transition from last time, when he had been a manifestation of a sleek and pristine office gentleman. Hair, now let down and wavy, neatly framed his face, accentuating the regalness of his features. It was astounding how you were still sure that it would be more likely to find a man of this fashion in a painting, rather than standing beside you. You kept quiet, not wanting to interfere with his musings. Perhaps it was just a silly coincidence that the two of you were at the same place and at the same time again - how else? You did not know him, and you hoped that he did not know you. Though, you truly did not mind his company, and maybe it could serve as your motivation to figure out the rest of the characters in the painting. Once again, your attention returned to the task at hand, but before you could even begin to list off prominent figures of the art world during the era of Impressionism, a deep, honey-like whisper halted you and made you hold your breath. 
“Auguste Renoir is the one seated, Emile Zola, the writer, is on the stairs, Monet, Manet and Bazille are, as you likely know in the centre, and that,” he paused to raise his hand, gesturing in the general direction of the far right of the piece, “is Edmond Maitre. Pianist, art collector, and Bazille’s closest friend.”
“I- uh- thank you. How did you know I was trying to recall? Pardon me, I must look so clueless-” you trailed off, eyes finding the floor, an action which seemed to be your automatic response to being under inspection of the man, though this time, he captured your gaze quickly by stepping closer towards you. Looking up, you found concern and apology in his eyes.
“No! Not at all, I… sorry if I misunderstood and I am sorry for forcing you into such erroneous conclusions,” he gave you an ever so slightly crooked smile, charming, very disarming and so suiting this beautiful stranger, that you were instantly prompted by your instincts to return it, dismissing doubt. 
“You saved me,” you joked, though the phrase contained within itself an unlikely compassion. Two people, alone in the same gallery, sharing a precious dialogue was something to cherish, and with all your might you wanted to make it last.
“Just as you made me regard the painting in a new light, for which I thank you, greatly,” he bowed his head, the smile not leaving his face for a moment. There was a recognition in his gaze, as well as an inexplicable admiration. What did he discover?
“I guess it might be true that no matter how many times you see a painting, every viewing brings something new,”
“Well said. Are you an artist? A critic, perhaps?” He inquired, moving closer to stand level with you, head turned slightly in your direction to spare the occasional glance. You shook your head slowly, wondering if in a retelling of your destiny you could have pursued either of the careers he had mentioned.
“I am in the arts, though rather than looking at the present I remain in the past. Art historian, well, a postgraduate. Nothing too fancy.”
“Oh? But that is marvellous, and what are you focusing on?”
“I like to call it the painting in plenair during the turn of the century. I focus mainly on impressionism, though do sometimes stray into its interplay with post-impressionism, modernism and expressionism.”
“Ah, no wonder I have been seeing you here often. Enjoying the new collection?” he asked, eager to hear your opinion. There was excitement in his voice as though you were a renowned expert and were about to bestow upon him a priceless evaluation. And this was without considering the technicality of you having only half-met. Just crossing paths twice in one week.
"Yes, of course… The collection is unlike any other I have seen. I keep wanting to return and stay here for ages." You explained, glancing at the stranger while he nodded along.
"Incredibly happy to hear it. I swear I have seen you around quite often during the past month that the exhibition has been open? Am I correct?" evidently, your rapid blinking was interpreted rather quickly as perplexion, for the man gasped ever so lightly, as if to catch his own speeding thoughts.
“I- how do you know? I do believe this is our… second time meeting?” you uttered, one eyebrow raised in suspicion, which, to your disbelief, revealed something akin to fear in the beautiful stranger’s features. Nervously, he adjusted a strand of hair that was threatening to cover his right eye.
“Not quite… you were present at the opening event, right?” he quizzed.
“Indeed, my depar- wait. But how? Respectfully, I am starting to think you know me.” you enunciated with newfound caution, while the man pursed his lips. One second, another passed in near total silence, until a chuckle escaped him and he shook his head. It appeared as though he was mentally scolding himself - his eyes held no malice, instead glinting with hope, that melancholic wisdom, and something unidentifiable, ethereal, supernatural.
“I think it is high time I introduce myself before this gets out of hand. See, in some sense I work here, and most of my days are spent in the gallery or labouring for it-”
“Ah, I see-”
“Park Seonghwa, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” with one arm folded behind his back and the other on his chest, he bowed to you like how you imagined princes in the numerous portraits you had studied would bow. And the most enthralling part was how the gesture flowed, and was so befitting. Quickly, you bowed in return, but while raising your head, you froze. It hit you why he would know. And know a lot. And would remember you, and likely anyone and everyone who visited. In a low whisper, you asked:
“Am I… correct in assuming that you are ‘the’ Park Seonghwa?” quickly enough, you realised that it was a mistake to find his eyes again - clearly, you were not ready for the intensity, nor for the intrigue that was contained within them, nor for the fact that he moved another step closer to you, the rubber of his boots dampening any sound produced.
“I never knew that there was a ‘the’ attached to my name. I simply love art.”
“Well that love translated into the creation of what is possibly the greatest gallery in the nation, if not worldwide,”
“Oh you flatter me too much, ah, your name-”
“L/N Y/N, and I, too, love art.”
“Elated to hear it,” he gleamed, and you swore the room exploded with the illumination of a thousand stars.
Stunning, awe-inspiring, ever so elegant. He was a walking dream. In that smile was concealed a certain something that had been taboo, a well-kept secret until a couple of decades ago, when those like Seonghwa had started to be fully integrated into society, and no longer had to hide, changing identity from one century to another. With that came Seonghwa’s success - you had read in an article that advertised the permanent exhibition a short blurb of his story, and how for many turbulent decades, the man single-handedly collected masterpieces, crafted a meticulous network and introduced genius artists to the world, and the world to the artists. The gallery was a magnum opus for Seonghwa - a presentation of what he had achieved as a collector, as a patron of the arts, and a celebration of his personal culture. 
You could not help but hone in on the fangs, and recall the original reason why it was even possible for Seonghwa to obtain such legendary works and have as much influence as he presently did. It was not spontaneous; submerged in turmoil, he had personally approached artists who, previously abandoned by critics and other prospective buyers, had never considered a future beyond a mysterious tomorrow. Hiding his own true nature, he crafted the tale of a ‘Park’ dynasty, and rose again and again to continue his work. Perhaps, now, some might argue that once he had revealed himself as a vampire the velocity of Seonghwa’s developments had fallen, but you would passionately argue the opposite. It was challenging to believe that any move by this stunning artistic mastermind was not strategic - the announcement had given the gallery more partnerships, more donations, and in turn, an even greater prominence in the community both among professionals and enjoyers. 
“Thank you,” the phrase spilled from your lips inadvertently. It seemed to be the only thing that was reasonable to say in that given moment. You pondered the pains that must have been suffered to make the world that you were consumed by come together, and the painting in front of you, aside from what was contained within the frame,now shined in a new light externally too, possessing its own story, resembling a search for a kindred spirit, a true home. 
Seonghwa remained quiet, the words of gratitude echoing in his heart. It was endearing, encouraging to hear such warmth from you. So, you did know him, at least the parts he had shown to the public - as was expected from someone so deeply ingrained in visual arts and history, but he could not help but identify it as something much greater than mere awareness. The openness with which you had welcomed conversation with him, the kind charm that radiated from you as you engaged in the careful verbal waltz reminded the vampire of times long, long ago when all that existed for him was drive, enamourment and art. Oh, how your eyes glimmered. His heart clenched into near unbearable agony as he read your expressions, and wondered how much you have seen, what have you yet to see, who you were in this temporary life. If only he could ask fate to tell him how much you remembered of who you had been before. 
“No, thank you, for giving this,” he gestured to the gallery around him, graceful hand unfurling as though revealing a delicate flower, “meaning, and reason to exist.”
“I highly doubt I am of much significance, Mister Park,” you responded, a soft smile on your face.
“Would anything hold the same meaning if there was no one to behold it?” he responded. You chose not to answer, catching onto the rhetoricism, “and please, call me Seonghwa. I’d like to say we are to be good friends.”
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .
Sitting across from Seonghwa in the cafe that was located on the top floor, above the main halls of the gallery made you feel strangely serene. Today he had foregone the straighter hair styles that you had begun to get used to, surprising you with a head of tousled, almost curled locks that embodied the world’s softness, though remained to be quite the contrast to the more formal and highly fashionable attire that adorned his stature. A suit, tastefully oversized with a buttoned double breasted jacket that was simultaneously serving as a shirt, the plunging v-shaped neckline revealing perfectly smooth skin, and what you noted to be a solitary freckle right in the centre of his collarbone. The trousers, at least from the glimpse that you had allowed yourself when you had met at the entrance to the cafe were of a loose fit, defining his waist at the top and falling to form an almost skirt-like silhouette should he stand how he usually stood: the echoes of what would be called the ‘third position’ in ballet, more relaxed, but still retaining an elegance that only he could carry. The biggest shock to you, however, was Seonghwa’s choice of shoes - a refreshing point to the visual, he had selected to contrast the formalwear with a pair of limited edition, geometrically intriguing Converses. You could catch a glimpse of one of them from over the edge of the table whenever his slightly shaking leg, positioned over the other, would rock forwards just that tiny bit stronger. 
While the setting was meant to be casual, the circumstances in which you found yourself were nothing short of miraculous. Never in a million years would you have imagined for it to be possible to be sat across the table from, quite possibly, one of the most legendary contributors to art restoration, collection and exhibition. On top of that, Seonghwa was a figure who actively bridged the gap between disparate communities, finding a common language, and using the arts as a salvation. You were in awe, and could not hold back on regarding the handsome vampire as he quietly reported your and his orders to the waiter who had floated to your table.
“Are you sure you do not want anything else?”
“Yes, I am sure. I do not wish to exploit your kindness-”
“-Not at all. I hope you do not mind that I… must make a rather unconventional order,” he smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat so as to attempt to hide his doubts, though you were uncertain as to how much of such emotions could possibly be left after what had to have been centuries. 
“An unconventional order is pouring a sugary energy drink into a triple shot espresso and calling it dinner,” you answered, eyes travelling from Seonghwa’s face to the mural on the wall a few tables away that wrapped behind him and to your left, disrupted only by the occasional floor length window that provided city vistas - rather gloomy, compared to the optimistic illumination of the restaurant. Perhaps out of pity, or out of genuine entertainment, Seonghwa chuckled.
“That does sound like an acquired taste, indeed. Thank you,”
“No need. Thank you for inviting me,” you turned back, nodding a polite bow as he softly waved your gesture off.
A silence settled across the table as you waited for your respective drinks. Your hand, had you not consciously restrained yourself, would have probably reached for the phone that you stored in your purse, but now was fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, finding the buttons to stress test the threads that had them sewn tight to the fabric. You were not bored, in fact, far from it. You needed a barrier. The grandeur of this man’s presence was almost overwhelming. He was not a mere individual in a room, he consumed it. Had you just walked in, you were certain that your gaze would still settle on his form. Just like the concrete outside was grey, and the pause retained a divine ambiguity, Seonghwa was unforgettable. In an attempt to calm your clouded thoughts, you studied the mural once more.
“May I inquire into your thoughts on the decor?”
“The choice of ‘A Sunday on La Grande Jatte’ is wise. I am guessing you were the one to make the decision?” you heard an exhale, and once more your attention was captured.
“Alas, I cannot take full accolades for this. This stemmed from a discussion that a good friend of mine and I had one late night. Seurat just so happened to make an appearance amidst the chatter, and so… this was born,” he gestured at the surroundings. Clearly, the interior was picked carefully to fit the theme of the legendary painting. 
From the colours to the textures and the greenery that had been intricately set up across the restaurant, every detail had a meaning and a place, and did not take away from the spaciousness of the hall. It was breathable, while still giving the illusion that you were stepping into a whimsical impressionist paradise. Perhaps that was another reason why you could not quite contain your disbelief firstly in your encounter, secondly in its progression, and thirdly in your interlocutor’s warmth. 
“Spectacular, truly. I have heard you have an eye for detail, however this surpasses all expectations.”
“Oh? There is more you have heard?” he interjected, leaning closer to you and placing an elbow on the table, simply to rest his head on his hand. While this could potentially be seen as slightly unceremonious, it hinted at well-kept confidence, ownership, control. A healthy undercurrent of motivation that came with indirect praise.
“I-oh y-yeah of course,” you did not mean to stutter, but some part of you was grateful you did, for the smirk that had threatened to burst on Seonghwa’s lips was enough for you to feel ignited to elaborate, “if my memory is not failing me, you were the one to distinguish a reproduction of a piece some time ago, no?”
“Ah- yes. That was a Degas reproduction. I must say, the attempt was sincere, however when I saw the-, hm, you will not be startled, will you?”
“Please,” you urged him to continue, intrigued by the story. 
“When I saw the original, as it was being made and when it had been finalised, it would be shameful of me to not spot a fake,” he fell back into his chair, just in time for the drinks to be served. 
A coffee for you, and a non-descript beverage concealed by a semi-opaque, tall glass for him. Though, you did not need to be a detective to guess what it was that Seonghwa was bringing to his lips, and what he took a tentative sip of. The only mystery that was remaining for you was what ‘type’ he had picked - was it O+? B-? Whatever else? You joined him in the tasting, lifting the mug and indulging in the wonderful aroma of your americano. It did not strike you as necessary to opt for something fancier and lie to yourself - so you settled for your regular order, much to your joy. Familiar taste and the reliability of the caffeine hitting your system painted the scene in more comforting colours, and gradually, you found yourself easing into the dialogue more and more, until life stories, musings and a surprisingly large common ground came pouring. 
You discovered that Seonghwa possessed a unique sensitivity and attunement to those around him. Focused on the emotional experiences, he felt through time and could recount emotions like the memory was from a mere few days, rather than decades ago. He was well-spoken, eloquent, intelligent, polite in every right as he navigated through the linguistic landscape and guided you like a partner in a dance. You were spiralling oh so quickly, intrigue catching up to you and prompting you to sacrifice all of your senses to the man and the pleasantly intoxicating atmosphere he captured you in. He was enchanting, and it was far too easy to give in. 
“May I reveal something?” in a hushed tone, he inquired, a finger absent-mindedly tracing the rim of his glass. 
“Oh, a little secret?” you raised your eyebrows in jest, lightening the initial seriousness with which Seonghwa uttered the question.
“Perhaps, perhaps not. Depends on how you take it. A confession might be more accurate,” he waited for you to take the final sip of your coffee before continuing, unphased by your unwavering focus, “if I were to be honest, I have been meaning to approach you.”
“Pardon?”
“As you know we have a… common awareness of each other thanks to what is housed under this roof, but ever since we first unknowingly crossed paths… I wanted to speak to you.”
Confused, you did not speak, though the words contained an unparalleled affection within them. What could he possibly mean? You chose to refrain from commenting, your hesitation prompting the vampire to continue.
“Do you remember the most recent opening night? Of the exhibition? I believe you were with someone…” he trailed off, hoping you would continue for him.
“Ah, yes, a friend of mine from university. So?”
“This might sound strange but, I distinctly remember you mentioning a name. An artist from the same era, dubbed as L/N Y/N?”
“Goodness, you overheard that? I am so sorry, it is just that said artist has intrigued me for some time, and I was half-hoping to encounter their work. Maybe it is because our names are the same but still….”
“Elusive, aren’t they?”
“To put it softly, yes. I only vaguely recall seeing… maybe one piece in my lifetime, when I was little, and then… nothing. And there is barely any information on the artist online, let alone libraries and archives.”
“Hm, indeed. I guess that makes two of us…”
“Two of us who are searching?”
“That’s right. It brought me happiness to know that I am not alone in this endeavour.”
“Then we can keep searching together.”
While you were positive that you could not conceal your interest, Seonghwa’s did not go unnoticed either. It was of course possible that he was simply well-versed in political correctness, but the burning depth of his pupils told you otherwise. Enthrallment, the discovery of a kindred spirit, recognition, the rekindling of a bond that had existed at some point long ago - all fantasies that played out in your mind as you returned that look with subtle fervour. You wondered how many people he graced with those charms. How many had succumbed to his influence, becoming a marker on his infinite life path, a fleeting second? How many had his lips known, how many had turned into a decadent treat for a genius man with natural peculiarities? While the researcher part of you was perplexed and aching for answers, the you that was caught in the moment simply let it go on, and the feeling of Seonghwa’s leg brushing against yours, and the pride blooming in your chest as he praised the few articles and papers you had published upon having claimed that he ‘knew some things about you too’ preoccupied you in the most magnificent way.
Naturally, you agreed to meet Seonghwa again. On your journey home, in the privacy of the anonymous metro, immersed in the cacophony of deafening rails and the millions travelling to anywhere, you pressed your phone to your racing heart as the vampire, the man, the beguiling Park Seonghwa sent you a message confirming so. Who knew a simple selection of words could be so captivating?
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .
Under the comforting thrum of raindrops on the large umbrella, you walked down the streets of the grey-coloured city, your hand lightly holding onto Seonghwa’s arm while he ensured that both of you were protected from the elements. Despite the dull light and bitterness of the cooling season, Seonghwa appeared radiant, truly timeless with every gesture and stride. The elegant angles of his face that you could tirelessly study stood out against the monotone buildings and overcast skies. His voice drowned out the sound of droplets racing one another to the ground. A miraculous gentleman who appeared in your life much like a portrait, or a landscape - a masterpiece you wanted to explore in every spare moment, and better yet, this masterpiece was equally as open to you as you were to him. 
“...essentially, yes. It is like another nationality. A marker of species isn’t too far isn’t it? Just another line on a stack of documents. Nothing more,” Seonghwa concluded his explanation, pursing his lips for a moment before letting an exhale turned dragon’s breath escape into the afternoon.
“Makes sense. So would that mean there are separate medical papers and treatment too?”
“Well… when regeneration fails us or when a given case is severe enough… yes. Though it is handled by private clinics run by other vampires.”
“There are private clinics?”
“Of course. Often they are connected to donation points too, and that is how we remain on the right side of the law and stay alive,” he nodded to himself, giving you a bittersweet smile when he noticed confusion overtake your gaze. “Blood,” he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, “I mean blood.”
In a nervous stupor, you cleared your throat and focused on a droplet that was hanging onto the edge of the umbrella, right in front of you, all the way until the gentle motion of Seonghwa’s amble provoked its abrupt descent onto the stone under your feet. 
“Ah, yes, I see-”
“If you find this disturbing, we can forget the conversation ever-”
“-I want to know you better, Seonghwa, truly-”
“Careful-”
“Sorry wha-” 
With an extraordinary swiftness, you were tugged abruptly by the arm. Not registering your surroundings, you merely went with the inertia, caught off-guard by the proximity of your face to the vampire’s as he held you against him with the arm that you had previously been resting your own on. A hand that you raised on instinct went limp and landed on Seonghwa’s chest, feeling the thick felted wool of his coat. The ringing of a bell, going farther away from you by the second, incessant but at least waking you up from the blur, was enough for you to put two and two together - a cyclist who thought they owned every part of the street, like always. You sighed.
“Reckless… my apologies I did not mean to-” Seonghwa tried to detangle himself, refusing to remain in your personal space for longer than necessary no matter how much he did want to, but his efforts were reduced to nothing when your hand moved to a hold on his upper arm - reassuring, comfortable, accepting.
“Thank you,” you interrupted, “that bike would have definitely run into me…”
“It’s nothing,” a low chuckle echoed in your ears as Seonghwa peered into your pupils, confidence that had previously wavered out of habitual caution now restored, growing into a pride as you continued to hold onto him, “the man was slow enough for there to be no risk of harm. I hope you are not too startled though.”
“Oh? You have super powers too? Do elaborate,” you jested, resuming your walk.
“I would call it more like… being a finely tuned machine. Can’t say I have bad reaction speed. Though I must say, it was a little challenging pulling you out of the way,” there was an evident intent behind the words. However, you were too curious to pay it any mind, instead preferring to find out their meaning live.
“How so?”
“I think this,” dropping his arm, Seonghwa’s hand reached for yours, and without a moment of hesitation, his fingers were intertwining with yours, his palm pressed against yours, “would be better. You know, for safety.” As if you could ever reject him. This was a fact you had established for yourself with an unprecedented certainty. His gallant disposition, attentiveness all confirmed a care for you that was impossible to ignore. 
There was something picturesque about the present after meeting this wonderful, infinite pool of art and humanity. You found yourself leafing through articles, art books and biographies with a more wistful and sentimental perspective, imagining what it would be like if it were you who was immortalised in the thousands of brushstrokes, or if you were on the other side of the canvas, how would you go about depicting the scenes unfolding before your very eyes. Timelessness - a quality shared between the art you so adored, and the man you had encountered and over the weeks, let your intrigue be transformed into a shy flame of infatuation. Perhaps it was the underlying reason why you did not reject his advances, nor cower in fear of his true nature with which he was upfront. The other, of course, was the search for the mysterious artist, an adventure that fuelled many of your dialogues, and prompted you to spend more time in the library and the archives of your university than you had ever done before - to the point where Seonghwa himself had encouraged you to take a break from your intellectual expeditions and step into the world as a casual observer. So, you let yourself drift; it finally hit you, what scenes your once again tranquil stroll reminded you of, and you smiled to yourself as you recalled the intricacies of the not quite commonly discussed representation of the Impressionist movement. 
‘Rue de Paris, temps de pluie’, painted by Gustave Caillebotte; his most famous work. Not quite as widely discussed, despite still technically being created in the Impressionist era, perhaps due to the meandering through form, realism and reliance on stronger lines rather than broad brushstrokes and the study of light. You did find it fascinating how Caillebotte’s passion for photography had seeped into this piece, however. Much like how, in recent days, you could easily find a way to mention Seonghwa in conversation, be it related to the arts or not. From the subjects in the foreground being slightly out of focus while the middle ground was crystal clear, to how the shapes of some passersby were cropped were all characteristic of photos, rather than paintings, making this particular work all the more dear to you. It was a reflection of life, of behaviour and of what had been daily back in the late nineteenth century.
Was it any different from now, aside from those grand, global topics that historians dedicated their lives to studying? If one were to whittle down to the intricacies, the miniatures that ornamented the span of a human existence, was it so terribly far away from what you were born into, and Seonghwa saw develop and had adopted? How people shielded themselves from the rain with umbrellas, and then used them as a tool to isolate themselves from other urbanites who were in a rush to take a day-long route out of their homes… and back again. The latest silhouettes of dress and accessory; the same rush to be with the times as now.
You felt your companion’s arm move, prompting you to let go and leave your hand hovering as though you were awaiting some kind of change. You bit back an unprecedented sliver of disappointment, only to be caught by surprise once again as you felt the hand settle on the small of your back. Cautious, like you were going to melt from any more pressure than the brush of a feather. A quick glance was enough to determine that you were being studied intently for any sign of discomfort - Seonghwa was ready to pull away at any moment, any sigh, and most definitely at any word. A meek smile settled on your lips, and you shyly used an oncoming stranger as an opportunity to affirm the gesture, stepping towards the vampire, and sensing the confidence of his protective measure be solidified. With glee he followed your every tilt and turn, angling away from the passing form that neither of you could focus on. The touch was electric, somehow monumental despite being so common and barely present. Your mind was on fire, pondering what it would be like to put your head on the elegant man’s shoulder, and let yourself be carried away into a terrific fairy tale.
“This really is a rainy day,”
“Seems quite sunny to me,” you respond with sarcasm, realising only after the fact that your phrase still did retain an element of truth within it. 
Sunshine did not have to be literal. It was easy to see, you just needed to return Seonghwa’s gaze, and watch as another spring flower blossomed in the soul of one you had initially assumed to be so cold, so distant. In the darkest winter was a safe haven that you could not help but lean into, and regardless of what you had initially thought, with him, you felt more human, more safe and alive than ever. He listened without fail to your ramblings, and could easily pick up the ball and balance it with his own musings that you could listen to for many lifetimes.
Lifetimes; immortality, the one concept you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Well, the latter was technically not true, as Seonghwa had elaborated some few days ago: vampires did age, albeit at such a slow pace that to the run of the mill human being, it was impossible to notice, and if they did, it would be someone very close, and only over a matter of decades. Maybe it was this exact inability that made you want to stay and learn all there could be about the gallerist - you thought that would make you feel like you have been living forever. His wisdom was beautiful. The kindness with which he treated you, akin to that of how a spouse treats their long-time sweetheart with a mellow and comfortable affection, was not something you asked for nor expected, but something which he introduced himself with through every action, progressively more amiable when you allowed him to advance.
“Mm, no wonder I can’t quite look at you,” he mused out loud, dramatically looking off into the distance. You raised an eyebrow, curious about what was going to come after his theatrical pause, “your brightness is unparalleled,” Seonghwa chuckled, satisfied with your sigh and the way in which you pretended to be annoyed, only to dissolve in a mute giggle. “So, I do suggest we get out of the rain for a moment and stop by that book shop over there, shall we?”
Following his hand, you spotted an antique bookshop a few doors down, marked by an iron sign and ornate shop window decorations that glistened with each hit of the dancing droplets. A warm golden light emanated from the inside, the hue comparable to a summer’s day. An odd feeling of deja vu washed over you, as though you had been in this store before, even though this was quite the distance away from your home, not on any of your usual commutes and in a part of town you barely visited aside from the occasional brisk walk. It had been established over a century ago, sporting a historical plaque and detailing original to the era the date on the sign suggested. Suppressing your internal monologue, you simply nodded, fond of Seonghwa’s excitement as he pushed lightly against your back and walked on ahead. If you were any more of a romantic, you would have assumed that the shop was a representation of his heart, but you couldn’t allow yourself to think that way, at least not when you felt heat rise to your cheeks as he whispered your name, openly planning what you could look for amidst the rare editions together. You and him turned into a ‘we’ so naturally, you barely had time to blink. A new brushstroke on a canvas, brave, bold and bright. Impressionist.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .
The hypnotising improvisation on a semi-acoustic guitar, followed by a launch back into the theme of a well-known jazz song had you tapping on the counter, unknowingly following every drum beat. The bar turned cosy music venue that Seonghwa had invited you out to was proving to be every bit a wonder of the world, and paradise inside of the otherwise gloomy city which had been plagued with miserable weather and lack of daylight for atrociously long. The classy establishment was a well known favourite among the vampires residing in the city, especially those aligned with a more bohemian and art-focused lifestyle. Critics, painters, collectors, musicians, poets alike all gathered to share ideas and energy, and reminisce days long gone, while the band - one that had not changed since the bar’s establishment, revived legendary pieces one after another. 
With ease, Seonghwa had ordered your favourite drink, having memorised it after your many outings that had smoothly transitioned into dates and shared nights. He remembered every detail about you, holding each one tenderness. Your lover gazed at you as he ended a conversation with a fellow collector who had recently come to town for a few days, stretching out his hand until it just touched yours, guiding it to lie flat on the counter. Seonghwa’s palm, still retaining a pleasant coolness despite him having had a couple of drinks of his own, was another reassurance that in the buzz of the venue, you still had your person by your side. Feeling his digits tap and then proceed to brush the back of your hand, you hummed in contentment, and let your eyes travel over the beautiful vampire, who leaned back, tempting you just for fun, knowing full well that you were wholly his, and even when you turned to look elsewhere, it was his face you saw in the crowd, it was his voice that rang in your ears, it was his touch that ghosted over your skin. 
The bustier from Alexander McQueen, the gorgeous flowy shirt with ruffles and cuts so tastefully sewn and executed, the statement necklace that was worthy of being displayed at a gallery and must be the envy of many, the high heeled boots that were concealed by elegant trousers - Seonghwa was your favourite work of art, and you could never deny it. Each one of his gestures was worthy of marvel, and the care with which he approached everything - even the tending to the items which he painstakingly selected and matched for tonight made your heart skip a beat. It was boggling how each garment and accessory was either an original, or a one of a kind piece. But at the same time, you did not expect anything less of Seonghwa.
He must be impossible to depict in paintings, you concluded, shamelessly staring at your lover’s face, from the shape of his nose, to the plushness of his lips, to the waviness of his night-like inky locks. You bet many had tried, but judging by the lacking evidence in the art world, they must have failed, miserably, to create something more immortal and invincible than the model and muse. You understood them, and Seonghwa gave no signs of being perturbed. 
“So, was that the intent behind our spontaneous trip to this bar tonight?” you gestured at your surroundings, taking another sip from your ornate glass. A sharp exhale accompanied a contrasting soft answer:
“Not at all,I had the business sorted a couple of days ago, and tonight was a lucky crossing of paths to secure the deal,” cryptic as ever, Seonghwa only alluded to the matter at hand.
The matter, or how he had referred to it as ‘business’ was a particular artwork that he had been hunting, by the elusive artist you had been investigating, first in your lonesome, and then joining forces with Seonghwa. Apparently, one of the pieces, by some stroke of unimaginable luck, had been kept safe in the private collection of a ‘Mister Kim’, at least that was how he had been initially introduced to you. Until you put two and two together, and when the very well dressed and styled character had entered the bar and made a beeline towards your partner in artistic musings and romance, recognised the man as a world-famous designer and fashion icon, Kim Hongjoong. And of course, another vampire and kind soul in one. 
Their conversation had happened outside of your earshot; whether it was on purpose or just so happened to unfold that way was for your ruminations to determine, but you did overhear enough to figure out that this was a portrait, a never seen work, and was completed by the artist who as it had turned out had been closer with Seonghwa than you had initially thought. 
“Seems to be very important, and not just in a ‘collector’ sense…” you trailed off, watching as the ice in your drink cracked, “is this why you were interested, you know, back then?”
“If I were to be honest, darling, I was, and still am, a lot more interested in you. The artist was something of an excuse to get a conversation going. And I do hope,” Seonghwa turned and sauntered towards you, “this conversation does not end.” 
Even though you were sitting on one of the bar stools, the heels and stance still left him some room to look downwards, and his sultry expression, orbs glinting at you through dark lashes left you transfixed. In moments such as this, you hated to be mortal. There were so many things that you could not possibly know, and no matter how hard you would try to comprehend the vastness of the angelic man’s mind, you would always remain theoretical, and accept the grand majority of intricacies as axiom.
“I hope so too,” your voice barely rose above a whisper as his gloved hand landed on your neck, gliding upwards to caress your jawline.
“I’m so glad I found you,” his thoughts were elsewhere, you were sure of it, and yet, his gaze remained unwavering, “my eternal love”. Lips stained with bittersweet worship, the words stumbled from them to strike you repeatedly in the heart, forcing it to lose its rhythm. He was regarding you like he had stumbled upon a priceless treasure, a divinity, a paradise. Something far from you and from this planet, but by Seonghwa’s careful selection, etched in your features.
Were you the embodiment of something greater for him? You would not consider yourself to be a model example of a human being, neither were you a pretty statue to display in an exhibition. You were you, but Seonghwa kept on convincing you that it was exactly this that had captivated him and showed him a new beginning. Did you wish to believe that? Of course. But a vampire who was hundreds of years old could keep a grand variety of secrets beyond your understanding, even if he were to exclaim them right in front of you and sketch them out. His eternal love - your version of eternity, or his? A life the duration of a butterfly’s abstract dance to the heavens.
“Love?” he called out to you, eyebrows knitted in concern due to your prolonged silence. You had set your drink down, and were staring at the shine of the glossy chrome silver and pearl on Seonghwa’s necklace. “Talk to me, say anything.”
“I- hm. I think I am just tired. Yeah, that must be it. Tired so I am overthinking, no worries. I’ll just be right here and-”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you tilted your head, noting how Seonghwa immediately straightened out, and instead of attempting to tower over you stepped over to the side to set a protective hand over yours.
“This is a majority vampire bar, full of unfamiliar individuals, this whole deal with the artwork is up in the air and-”
“First of all, I don’t care. Second, you are here with me. And third, I want to trust in the fact that you would not do anything foolish nor harmful. Am I right in my evaluation?” you uttered, still not quite able to look into Seonghwa’s infinite pools of brilliant sienna and dark brown.
“I- I am honoured, but that still does not detract from the fact that we can go get some air and come back. Shall we?”
“You don’t have to-”
“I want to. Hell, need to. Let us have a quick wander?”
“...I’d like that.”
In no time, the winter air hit your cheeks and you were wrapping yourself as tightly as you could in your oversized coat. In your ears the pleasant sound of the vampire’s heels rang out, echoed by the stunning road onto which you were spat out by the heavy black front door of the bar. Warm-toned streetlights liberally decorated the sidewalks and painted the night in honey, gold and copper accents. Reflections of an artificial summer in the puddles and winter chill. Downright magical. Seonghwa seeked out your hand, holding it tight and guiding it into the pocket of his own coat, smirking when you raised an eyebrow. 
“What?”
“Nothing at all.”
You were certain that you were walking through a landscape painting, every element captured by your vision falling into its rightful place, harmonising with the rest. The mumbling and music was long gone, only to be replaced by conversation of other late city explorers and the occasional rumbling of a car lazily rolling past. 
“Pissarro.”
“Hm?” Seonghwa kept looking ahead, but squeezed your hand to ask for you to continue.
“Boulevard Montmartre at Night. Painted in 1897, no?” you pointed at the surroundings with a tilt of the chin.
“Ah, indeed! Your perceptiveness never ceases to amaze me.”
“Well, thanks to you I got to see the original, so how could I not make the visual analogy?” you nudged his shoulder, earning a chuckle.
The painting was the only example of a landscape at night from the artist Camille Pissarro, making it all the more special despite it being part of a series of 14 views of the same location. Snow, rain, fog, morning, varying seasons, but only one glimmering night. It was one of the works that Seonghwa had managed to provide for your studies, resulting in a more than impressive academic outcome. Like Pissarro kept on painting the vista, your lover kept on giving, never asking for anything more than for you to share your hours with him, something you did not need to be prompted to do anyways.
“...I’m sorry I cannot reveal more than I do, at least not just yet,” he apologised, as though what he was committing was the greatest crime known to humanity and the supernatural.
As you looked up at the starry night sky, you swore you had heard these words before, uttered by the same voice, the same fingers interlocked with yours. A stabbing sensation in your cranium made you gasp, but you regained your composure quickly enough to not make it a priority for either of you. At the same time, Seonghwa’s expression altered to a semblance of… hope? Longing? You could not pinpoint it, but one of the many glowing dots above you clearly landed in his shining orbs, and he eagerly waited.
Waited for longer than you could realise in your present state.
On their own accord, your lips moved, forcing out a subconscious acknowledgement, previously suppressed. You swore the phrase belonged to another being, but it was as refreshing as the breeze tousling Seonghwa’s locks.
“I know. I can wait too.”
“Soon, my love.”
“I-I know.”
“I miss you.”
“I-” vision growing hazy, you reached to the vampire for support, which he readily provided, “I- too.”
One blink - oil paints decorated your hands, and those alluring eyes were staring back at you from a canvas. Another blink - Seonghwa was repeating your name, pressing his cheek against yours as he shielded you from falling into darkness with his strong arms.
______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .
Your office was inviting and offered a secure haven: a collection of neutral and wooden tones, with dashes of greenery to relax the eyes. From a potted ivy plant settled on the top of a large wall-length shelving unit to an indoor palm tree enjoying the rays in its designated corner, the room was a miniature paradise. You ran your hands over the thick birch desk, cautiously avoiding the stack of documents you had arranged for yourself to go through this day. Artwork restoration reports, contracts, exhibition plans for years to come… everything you thought you would never see, and yet it was right here in your palms.
Time moved slower, or at least that was how you began to perceive it now that it was in abundance. A fountain that did not cease to bestow gifts upon you - again, something you would have never imagined prior to the curious series of events that were your previous life unfolding the way they did. One fateful meeting, and you were a changed person, staring into the horizon and labelling it as a continuation rather than as a termination of all you could achieve. The world was your oyster, and loving dedication was the price. But when the price was so sweet, and so easy, who were you to say no? If you had to pick a concern, it would be the bandages and binding on your right arm; friction from the sleeve of the turtleneck and blazer you had worn today applying uncomfortable pressure to the delicate wound concealed within. 
You stood up from the leatherbound office chair, adjusting your clothes and stepping to the window behind you to look out at the garden belonging to the gallery - a recent expansion. Grand, regal, and as the papers had emphasised, now returned to its rightful owner. You wondered just how much of the city had belonged to vampires at least for a portion of time, and you had no doubt that you would be making more discoveries soon, but for the time being, you were happy with the re-acquisition, or as Seonghwa had called it: your ‘turning’ gift. A particularly strong shift of the arm made you wince, and your other hand shot to nurse your sore arm.
“I’m so sorry darling, does it still hurt?” Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had slipped into the office, and immediately rushed towards you, concern painting his beautiful face through furrowed brows and a tiny scowl.
“N-no, barely. The sweater is silly-”
“Let’s not disregard ailments, shall we?” your partner gingerly lifted your arm, and after gaining permission through a few lethargic nods, pushed the sleeve upwards to reveal the bandages, “I- really, we need to apply the ointment again, that must be it-”
“Seonghwa-”
“Work can wait, I just need to-”
“My love-” Seonghwa paused his ramblings to stare back at you, puzzled, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Literally just a bite, isn’t it?” you smiled, the action instantly being mirrored, albeit with a tinge of remaining worry.
“Mm, perhaps I am overreacting, I can’t help it,” your thoughts were numbed by the silken touch of his lips on the back of your hand, wool against cotton as he pulled you into an embrace, “it should heal well once you get used to your new form, I am sure of it,” his tresses tickled your nose, but you ignored it, instead letting your head fall against him.
You stood almost completely still aside from the rocking side to side that was habitual for you both. A lulling motion, one that either of you revealed only to each other. A secret reserved for intimate, loving moments such as this. You shook your head in amusement and buried your nose in Seonghwa’s sweater, inhaling the aroma of his sweet perfume, recalling ‘Love and Pain’ - the painting that had marked the tightening of the invisible string tying you together. Or was it? Coincidentally, on the wall behind your lover was the real inception of your union, one that you had forgotten from one lifetime to the next. A portrait. The one that Seonghwa had been chasing, and what had been his decades-long mission came to an end.
Signed with your own hand, were initials of your name and the year of completion of the painting. None other than the beloved collector and muse, Park Seonghwa, who had posed for you, or rather a version of you, and ever since then, you were the only one on his mind. You had been the master both of the arts and of his fate.
“Please, I am embarrassed…” your partner mumbled, settling for futile attempts to position you in such a way that you would be looking out at the garden, but to no avail. Poking him playfully at the side, you induce a halt, and question him:
“What is there to be embarrassed about? That’s you. Painted by me.”
“Exactly. And you have it in your office, of all places.”
“Well I can’t exactly have you, in the flesh, on display all the time and I would like a work of art around here-”
“Shh-”
“Don’t shush me, Park. Be grateful I don’t keep the sketches out too.”
In all honesty, He would not mind if you did. You could do anything, and the vampire would adore and honour it. Whether it was in your blood or in his nature, he had never regretted almost losing himself in your favour. In your last life, he had gone against all rules set up by vampires, playing against what he swore was the devil in order to have the sliver of a chance to start again and, this time not lose you. Had his plan not succeeded, it was highly probable that he would have been erased from this planet too. But he would rather call himself a masochist than be law-abiding when it came to you.
“Next, you’ll be threatening me with a showcase of just my face-”
“What if I do?” you quipped, pulling back to boop his nose with yours, “I think it would look very pretty. Besides, now that I remember my apparent mastery of the visual arts, can’t I be a tiny bit proud, hm?”
“I would be terribly disappointed if you weren’t. Now, may I put that ointment on you?”
As if you could refuse those sparkling eyes. Promptly following him to the loveseat, which unfortunately for Seonghwa was situated right under the portrait, you sat down and waited. Your partner rushed to the medical cupboard - another new addition installed exclusively to support you as you were getting used to the vampiric nuances in your day to day. With well-practised motions, the required kit was in his hands, and in a blink, set down on the plush cushioning of the miniature sofa. You held back a chuckle as you saw the pout you so loved appear as he focused on unwinding the bandage with utmost care. Before you could feel any hurt, Seonghwa would already let go, or alter the angle at which he was tugging on the material. As soon as the plaster was peeled, you were met with the reason for your eternity and reawakening.
Two deep punctures, still a little irritated, not quite healed, but nevertheless a marking of your future and something you regarded with fondness. Wounds did not hurt when they were merely physical, especially not when you had someone who had bound their immortality to yours to tend to them. Seonghwa bit his lower lip, discontented with the ache as though he could feel it too, and took numerous pauses while cleaning up the wound to glance at you. 
“I’ll be applying the ointment now, tell me if it stings, okay?”
“Okay,” you knew it wouldn’t. You had never heard a man be so adamant on checking ingredients at an apothecary before following Seonghwa after your first appointment as a vampire. But just to appease him, you followed this small spoken routine. 
“You know… I was scared,” his voice was barely audible, and he could not look at you.
“What were you scared of?”
“Losing you again.”
“Well, I am here, aren’t I?”
Even before you were aware of Seonghwa, let alone the truth behind the portrait, all the roads still led to the same resolution. The arts, art history. Virtually synonymous, for without creation, there would not be the past, and without the study of the past, there would not be the celebration and respect of creation. Finally, you understood the beauty of evolution that Seonghwa had undergone all while remaining the same vulnerable yet legendary figure, dedicated to his vision of the arts, having recollected your own. 
“So many things could have gone wrong,” Seonghwa’s mind was reeling from the sheer terror of possibility. He had taken advantage of his high social standing as an aristocrat and pulled rank to avoid waiting for any ritual guides to step in - it was not the first time, but still only the second. And both cases were related to you. 
The first time might have been a foolish decision in retrospect, but considering the dire circumstances the extreme solution was the only one. With one foot crossing to the afterlife he was combatting the reapers, and was not going to let go of you even if it meant being pulled in. This time, when you had approached him a number of nights ago with your final agreement to his tentative proposal and kissed his ruminations away, he was ready. Years of study were not going to waste, after all. And yet when he studied the same irises as those from a time long gone, when he held the same hands, his blood ran even colder. What a gambling man he had been back then. The procedure to regift life to you had been risky, and Seonghwa, having never practised those elements of the dark arts bestowed upon his kind, had been taking shot after shot in the dark. How dare he play with your being like that? How dare he hold your existence on a sinful scale?
“But they didn’t.”
No they did not. Your confidence in him had aided considerably, he had to admit. The positioning of his fangs was perfect, and he had memorised all incantations down to the inflections. Second time a charm, but much more anxiety-inducing. Turning was not the same as revival, either. He could not stop himself from imagining the many scenarios of where he would have gone wrong, and cemented your identity only as a name on manuscripts, dissertation, paintings and reports. 
“Even the ritual, what if you did not remember-”
“I would love you just the same. Whether I had all my memories or not. That much I can assure you of. That is why I trusted you in the first place, Seonghwa.”
You did not need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. All you could do was suggest a brighter palette, and be by his side no matter what colour scheme he were to decide on. It was an artist’s duty to know when to set the tools aside and consider a painting finished. The luxury of a collector was to live through many paintings, unify the souls contained in each and sustain a chronology of expression. The keepers, the scholars, made to observe change rather than induce it directly. This was why you were all the more grateful for Seonghwa daring to change your mortal fate not once but twice, risking himself and his image in your favour.
When your partner was satisfied with his medical care, he hummed to notify you and began to clear up, at least until you placed a weak hand on his leather-clad thigh to gain his full attention. He searched for a hint in your features, eyes darting across your face at lightning speed. Relief came when you grinned brightly, whispering sincere gratitude.
Impressionism - the movement and path made by legends. A rejection of traditional practice, a new vision and interpretation of the outside world in the hues of the soul. Light, reality, immediate action. A breath that reset the arts, magnificent and radical for the time, and now, much adored. From its conception to its establishment, you were there to witness and fall in love, and now could look back at the beauty that had bloomed. His irises, your favourite colour. The speckles of various shades, your favourite details. You stared into Seonghwa’s eyes and did not dare blink. Your favourite impression.
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cheollipop · 1 year
Note
so I've been thinking about the sleepover and there's one scenario won't leave my mind.. Imagine you (reader) is dating seonghwa but he seems to know that san has a thing for you as well. He thought nothing of it when san would linger in his room when you were over but then he started to notice san's eyes look longingly after the two of you. There was nothing san missed, not a touch or shared glance, but he didn't seonghwa watching him. After sometime seonghwa suggest san "sleepover" while that watch a movie marathon. cramped side by side in seonghwa's bed you try to watch the movie but there's more attention on you than on the flashing tv screen.
My brain hasn't filled in the blanks but what if San lays beneath you, pressed chest to chest while seonghwa rails into you from above. Imagine San's poor cock trapped between the two of you. Leaking and swollen red. But he can't take his eyes of your changing face expressions. Seonghwa has practically pinned your waist to San. A whiny moan leaving San's mouth everytime Hwa thrust harshly. Fingers probably twitching at his side, unsure if he can touch you or not.
I'm going to throw myself in front of a moving bus,,, I am so horny for these two.
2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩
nabi.....i've dmed you about this very ask,, screaming, creaming, crying, throwing UP- ahem. no fr though, the visual alone had me gripping my sheets and contemplating arson. bc???? oh my lord. I wrote this all in one go, and it ended up being longer than I thought it would be bc I ignored every possible ending until I realised that I needed to stop ✋ thank you SO much for sharing this with me, and I really hope I did it justice!~ happy reading~ ^^
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pairing: bf!park seonghwa x fem!reader x roommate!choi san
w.c.: 0.9k
tags: smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, mean-ish dom!seonghwa, san is soo desperate, begging, grinding (ig?), hints of a creampie kink, i think that's it >:]
nsfw under cut—minors dni!
“You wanna touch her, don’t you?”
The fingers digging into the flesh of your hips splayed out between your shoulder blades, pushing you down onto San’s body, nipples brushing over his and breaths mingling in the shortened gap between your faces. Seonghwa hammered his cock into you, getting off on the broken moans leaving your lips, and perhaps on San’s pathetic expression as well—furrowed eyebrows and teary, hooded eyes taking in the sweat beading on your forehead—as he watched him use your cunt like a cocksleeve, arms resting idly beside him while he resisted the urge to touch your trembling body.
“Bet you’re leaking all over her.”
A shiver ran through San’s body, spurting more precum onto his lower belly, the sticky mess transferring onto yours as you jerked forward with every thrust. A whimper fell from his lips, his cock—hard and throbbing—trapped between his firm torso and yours, and more than ever, he wanted to watch it sink into your tight heat, to empty out the load he’d been holding onto just for you, only to watch it flood out in thick streams.
“Think I didn’t know you were jerking off in your room every time I fucked her? You dirty slut,” the backs of your thighs stung as Seonghwa pumped his cock into you with fervour, folding himself over your figure with a growl echoing in his throat, peering at San over your shoulder. You nearly scoffed; he’d missed the hints of irony laced into his last statement. Seonghwa was the one getting off on fucking you atop his roommate’s body, his cock pulsing between your walls at the desperate whine leaving San’s lips. “You wanna touch her?”
San’s eyes snapped off your blissed-out face to meet Seonghwa’s, fingers twitching at his side at the mere thought of running them over your damp skin. He nodded his head vigorously, envisioning your nipples at the mercy of his thumbs and pointers, handfuls of your ass in his palms, pushing you back onto Seonghwa’s cock, and forward to grind on his.
“Beg for it, Sannie.”
And San was a desperate man, with a pride that allowed him to give the older man what he wanted, the heavy presence of his cock resting under your heated flesh nearly driving him to delirium. “Seonghwa, please. Fuck—hngh—c’mon, let me touch her, I’ve been so good. Please, please, Hwa-”
Sandwiched between the two men, Seonghwa pressed you down onto San until your face buried into the crook of his neck, missing the wide, glimmering eyes staring into those below you while he spoke, a sly smirk evident in the deep baritone, “don’t wanna.”
A stubborn, possessive side of Seonghwa surprised the both of you, a frustrated huff leaving the younger man’s lips before the other straightened up, regaining his balance on his knees before building up to a pace he knew you enjoyed. Enjoyed, meaning: burning pleasure sent your nerves into overdrive, rolling you over the edge before you could even process the speedy climb, legs closing around San’s hips while Seonghwa continued to fuck himself into your weeping cunt. Your orgasm stretched, face tucked into San’s neck and your thighs quivering violently, hips spasming away from each thrust, only for the firm hands grasping them to pull you closer again.
San simply laid there, eyes shut as he took in the melody playing in his ear—your euphonious voice matching the beat of skin-on-skin—unconsciously rutting his hips into your belly, moaning piteously as you glided over the length of his cock, painfully hard and angry at the neglect.
You wanted to give him attention since, as he said, he’d been so good. But then Seonghwa was unloading within you, making sure every last drop was fucked deep into your womb. “There we go—fuck—my pretty girl, my beautiful darling,” he grinded his cock into your used cunt, eyes fluttering at the loud squelch of your mixed arousal, “taking it all so well, ‘bet you feel so full.”
You nodded lazily, resting limply over San’s body and inhaling the faint scent of bergamot off his skin. As the blinding haze of his orgasm faded, Seonghwa’s possessiveness came into play, eying the tranquillity, the ease in which you allowed yourself to drowse in over another man’s chest. So he disrupted it, veined arms wrapping around your middle to pull you off the firm body and into his own, mooning over the slow turn of your head, the pucker of your lips as you leaned in to plant a kiss onto the plush of his. A reminder of the man settled under you came in the form of a simple muscle twitch, and two heads twisted to gawk at the sight of him: sprawled out on the sheets, milky cum painting his defined abs—the remainder of his load clinging to your abdomen—while he looked up at you through his eyelashes.
Seonghwa huffed out a laugh, an amused smirk curling his lips, “that wasn’t very good of you, was it, Sannie?”
San tilted his head, a smile gracing his feline features while his spent cock twitched in interest, his tone spiked with childish playfulness, “and what are you gonna do about that?”
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27vampyresinhermind · 27 days
Text
Am I the only person who wants Hwasa and Seonghwa to collab? Like, it would be the cuntiest thing to ever be served! It could be called 2Hwa or like Hwa^2 or just MOTHER! The visuals alone would be insane!
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Just fucking look at them!! Plus the vocal power of these two together would be legendary.
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AND THE WARDROBE!!!!!!!!! THE WARDROBE POSSIBILITIES!!!! Think of it!!!! They could play on femme vs masc stylings, subverting gender norms in the styling which they’re both incredible at, I CAN NOT BE THE ONLY PERSON TO HAVE THOUGHT OF THIS!!!!!!
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solaris-amethyst · 2 months
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💫 Animal Crossing vs Stardew Valley💫
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✨Pairing: non idol!Seonghwa x gn!reader ✨Prompt: You and your best friend Seonghwa argue about which game is better than the other. ✨Word count: 0.7k ✨Genre: fluff, best friends ☀️Authors Note: I definitely play way more Stardew Valley than Animal Crossing so had to get the help of my friend who's played AC way longer than I have to have some good materials for this one shot! Let me know if you liked it!🥰
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"There is no way you prefer Stardew Valley over Animal Crossing New Horizon." Seonghwa said looking at you flabbergasted after you had confessed you preferred said game over Animal Crossing.
"Why wouldn't I prefer Stardew Valley over Animal Crossing?! Stardew has so much more gameplay and a storyline and it's so much more fun!" You argued back at him, he sat up straighter in the sofa the two of you were sitting in with his mouth hanging open as if he could not believe the words you had just uttered.
"No no no you're wrong! Animal crossing is much better, the villagers are super cute, you get to choose who stays on your island! You can't do that in Stardew! You're forced to have the exact same people as everyone else!" He said as he turned his switch towards you to show his villagers who were waving and just in general being cute.
"Well at least I don't need to restart or get a new switch if I wanna restart a new farm in Stardew! You have to delete everything if you wanna start a new farm meaning you'll have to delete all your memories and that's no fun!" You pout "And besides Animal Crossing don't have Krobus so that's automatically a minus point!"
"What the hell is a Krobus?!" Seonghwa asked making a face causing you to gasp and turn toward him almost offended he asked who Krobus is.
"He's a precious friendly monster! You have not seen his little face when you gift him an emerald! He's adorable!!" You defend the creature.
"Well do your villagers congratulate you on your birthday?" He argues back which causes you to let out an annoyed:
"No they don't."
"Hah! See! My game is superior! They sing a little song and do a little dance for you. Plus the visuals are much cuter than your game!"
"Hey! The visuals are really nice as well!!" You lightly hits his leg as he laughs.
"Besides Stardew stresses me out. I want to be relaxed when playing a game and yet there's a time limit every day, if I want to save I gotta go to bed and if I'm mining I get attacked by everything from crabs to slime monsters to bugs." He rants and it brings out a laugh from you.
"That's why Animal Crossing is slightly boring. There's no fighting, no action or adrenaline rush while playing the game! Plus Stardew has a storyline, your game is over once you earn three stars which is like what do you do after that?" You retaliate and you can see something click in Hwas head as his eyes starts looking a bit mischievous as he fights a smile.
"Well you know Sprout Valley is better than your game!" That caused you to gasp, there was no way he actually uttered those words to you.
"You take that back! You agreed last week when we played it that it was good but not as good as our favorite games!" You point at him and he's now wearing a Cheshire grin on his face
"I changed my mind" He singsongs, giggling at your flabbergasted face.
"Get over here!" You say pouncing at him to tickle him causing him to shriek trying to get away from you.
"Stooppp!!! Hahahahaha noooo stop it Y/n!!!!" He tries to push you off of him but hes unsuccessful of getting you off and stopping your attack.
"I will stop if you take it back and say Stardew is the best game out there!!" You smirk trying not to laugh at how he was turning red from laughing.
"Okay! OKAY!! Ahhhh you win!!! Stardew Valley is the best game out there!!" Once he had screamed that you stopped, laughing at him. Seonghwa looked as if he had been to war with his now tousled hair, beanie on the ground and shirt slightly tangled.
"See! I won." You say sitting back in your corner of the sofa looking like a cat who just got the cream. Enjoying your victory over Seonghwa who usually was the one who won these kind of arguments. Your victory did not last long before he wheezed out:
"I lied. Animal Crossing and Sprout Valley is leagues better."
"Why you little shit!" You said before lunging at him with a screech causing him to let out a scream of his own trying to avoid your fingers who were ready to tickle him again until he gave up.
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luvkyu · 1 year
Text
vacation ( park seonghwa )
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seonghwa x male!reader
seonghwa takes interest in a stranger he meets on vacation.
content : 1.9k words, fluff, swearing, idol!hwa x non celeb!reader
( a/n ) the end is my favorite idc
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"mine!"
seonghwa's eyes were fixed on the volleyball that yeosang bumped toward him. he quickly raised his arms and set the ball for mingi to spike to the other side of the net.
"mingi, yours!" he called in determination for his friend.
san, yunho, and jongho were on the other side of the court. the first two instantly jumped to try and block mingi's spike, while jongho stayed back to save the ball if needed.
mingi turned the direction of his body at the last second, making the ball barely miss san and yunho's blocks. jongho's eyes went wide in realization before throwing his body to try and get to the ball before it hit the ground. missing the hit and diving into the sand, jongho groaned and rolled onto his back in defeat.
mingi, seonghwa, and yeosang all began cheering at their victory. they exchanged high fives and sent playful glares to their opponents on the other side.
"tsk. cheaters!" yunho shouted.
"wha- i smell jealousy?!" mingi shouted back. the others began laughing at the outburst, a playful argument resulting in yunho's remark.
seonghwa scoffed at his friends. his eyes followed the ball as it now rolled out of the court's bounds. he looked over at his opponents' side, seeing that none of them were paying attention to the escaping volleyball, despite it being over on their side. seonghwa jogged over to catch up with it as his bandmates continued bickering and shit-talking.
"no, no, no.." he muttered after seeing the ball stop next to another guy who was sitting on the beach, closer to the water. "now i have to go talk to him," he groaned sadly. usually he wouldn't mind, but this was his vacation, and vacation meant not talking to people.
as seonghwa got closer, he could see the male more clearly. the ball stopped right beside his chair, but he didn't notice as his head was buried in a book. seonghwa's heart began to race after being able to make out his appearance better, quite taken by his visuals.
"okay, maybe i want to talk to him," he mumbled again. the guy suddenly turned at hearing seonghwa's voice, resulting in seonghwa silently swearing at himself for failing to be quiet.
"uh, sorry.. our ball rolled over here," he said with a polite smile before picking it up. the stranger quickly smiled back and shook his head.
"no worries!" he responded. seonghwa frowned when the other looked back at his book to continue reading. seonghwa found himself wanting to talk more with him, which also slightly confused him.
"..what're you reading?" he blurted out. the stranger turned again while seonghwa felt like hitting himself. the former smiled, holding up the small book in his hands.
"it's a book of poems by different authors," he replied warmly. seonghwa nodded at this and felt his heart drop at the realization that he had no idea what to say next. the other noticed this though, finding it a bit cute.
"i'm y/n."
seonghwa's brows raised as he watched y/n put his book down and stand up next to him.
"oh, uh.. i'm seonghwa!" he returned the greeting with a beaming smile, which made y/n internally coo.
"nice to meet you, seonghwa."
"you too! do you wanna join us?" seonghwa asked, gesturing to the court that was farther back on the sand. y/n looked over at the five others on the court as he considered the offer.
"mm, thanks, but i'm not really wearing the right outfit today. these are my favorite shorts," he answered with a small pout as the two now looked down at his outfit. "plus, it looks like you'd have an odd number if i joined."
seonghwa frowned, seeing now that he was right.
"park seonghwa!!"
y/n and seonghwa's attention quickly turned back to the court again. mingi had yelled his name while the others waved for him to come back with the ball. seonghwa rolled his eyes and sighed before looking back at his new acquaintance.
"it was nice meeting you!" y/n said kindly, not wanting to annoy his friends. seonghwa managed to give him a small smile in response, although he'd much rather stay and talk more.
"you too," he said with a small nod. after turning with the ball under his arm, his smile fell into a small frown. his mind was urging him to turn right back around and at least ask for y/n's number, but his legs continued to take him back to his members.
"your serve!" san shouted while seonghwa stepped back into his place. he tossed the ball over to yeosang, who was serving next. yeosang, however, was not focused on serving the ball right now. he sent seonghwa a knowing stare and teasing grin.
"find something you like over there?" yeosang asked. seonghwa looked back over at y/n, who was watching them for a moment before sitting back down to return to his book. seonghwa looked down  bashfully as he now got into a ready position.
"shut up," he muttered.
yeosang let out a small snicker before serving the ball to finally start another round.
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"hey guys! how was volleyball?" wooyoung asked as seonghwa and yunho entered their shared hotel room.
"really fun! you should join next time," yunho answered. wooyoung shrugged at the suggestion, hopping off his bed and going to the fridge to get a drink.
"you good, hwa?" wooyoung asked after seeing his friend's dissociated manner.
"oh, he's fine. just sulking cause he met a guy but didn't get his number," yunho answered teasingly. seonghwa rolled his eyes and flopped onto his bed.
"i could've if you guys hadn't interrupted," he shot back. wooyoung looked between them in confusion.
"you cockblocked him?!" he shouted at yunho while hitting him lightly.
"no!!" yunho protested, trying to shield himself from his friend, "it was mingi!"
wooyoung clicked his tongue in disapproval before looking back at a disappointed seonghwa.
"is he still out there? can you go back and ask?"
"no, he left before we finished the game," seonghwa responded. wooyoung frowned and nodded. he sat with the other and pat his back supportively.
"i'll manifest that you see him again while we're here."
seonghwa let out a light chuckle at this.
"thank you, woo."
"of course," wooyoung replied happily. "oh, also! hongjoong and i decided to go out for dinner if either of you want to join us."
"oh, i'm in! i'm so hungry. just let me shower real quick?" yunho asked. wooyoung nodded, resulting in an eager yunho grabbing his clothes and disappearing into the bathroom.
wooyoung looked over at seonghwa again, who was now on his phone.
"you sure you're okay?"
seonghwa looked up at him. a smile stretched on his lips as he nodded.
"i'm alright."
wooyoung's mouth titled down a bit at this answer, but decided not to push it anymore.
"i'm gonna go chill on the balcony for a while," seonghwa said while getting up. wooyoung watched him open the door to their hotel room's balcony, the sound of the ocean waves filling the room before dying down again once seonghwa closed the door behind him.
wooyoung frowned to himself. he didn't like seeing his friend so down, but he tried to brush the thought off and focus on getting ready for dinner.
meanwhile, seonghwa let out a long exhale as he leaned against the balcony's railing. a beachfront hotel was definitely the right call for ateez's vacation. he already felt a little better, looking out at the sea as the sun began to set in front of him.
he found himself quite surprised at his behavior since meeting y/n. they only said a few words to each other, and yet he felt pretty upset with himself for not staying to talk more or at least getting y/n's socials.
"seonghwa?"
seonghwa's head whipped around at the sound of his name. his sights landed on a very surprised looking y/n sitting in a chair with a laptop on the neighboring balcony.
"oh shit, y/n?"
y/n set his laptop aside and stood up, the pair now only separated by the railing.
"you're staying in this hotel??" y/n asked before mentally scolding himself at the obvious answer to his question.
"yeah, i'm staying here with my group on vacation!" seonghwa said eagerly. y/n's brows furrowed slightly.
"your group?"
"mhm! i'm a member of the group ateez."
y/n's eyes brightened as he nodded at the information.
"ohh, nice! how long are you guys staying?"
"we just got here yesterday and we're staying for a week! what about you?"
"ah, my friend and i just wanted a weekend getaway so we're leaving tomorrow actually," y/n responded, a bit of disappointment masked in his voice. seonghwa frowned and nodded.
"awh.. i was gonna say maybe we should hang out while we're both here.."
y/n smiled at the suggestion. the nervousness in seonghwa's voice was very evident, but he held hopeful eye contact with y/n.
"well, i'm free tonight if you wanna do something?" y/n said.
"that sounds great! maybe dinner?"
y/n's smile grew while nodding excitedly.
"i'd love that," he responded. seonghwa could feel his heart hammering against his chest as he looked at him.
"i can come over to your room in like an hour and we can go?" seonghwa suggested. y/n nodded again while closing his laptop and picking it up to go back inside.
"sounds perfect. see you soon," he said, trying to stay calm despite the fireworks going off in his stomach. seonghwa nodded a goodbye to him as they both departed back into their rooms to get ready.
seonghwa quickly closed the glass door and drew the curtains, unable to wipe the ear-to-ear smile from his face. he looked down and began to fidget with the ring on his finger.
"what's with you?" wooyoung asked while fixing an earring in his left ear. seonghwa instantly looked back up after hearing his voice.
"oh, hi! y/n's in this hotel!! his room is right next door!"
wooyoung's face turned in confusion.
"y/n..?"
"the guy who's number i didn't get earlier!"
"oh!" wooyoung's face now brightened with happiness, "what the hell, that's so crazy! did you get his number?!"
"no, but i asked him to dinner tonight!"
wooyoung, being wooyoung, screamed loudly at the news. the two quickly hugged and continued yelling together. after a moment, yunho threw the door of the bathroom open in concern, a towel barely hanging around his still soaking waist.
"what?! what's going on?!!"
"seonghwa found the guy from earlier!!" wooyoung shouted. yunho let out a deep breath of relief, leaning over to rest his hands on his knees.
"are you fucking with me? i thought something bad happened!" yunho shouted back as he took a nearby pillow and threw it at his friends. with the excessive movement of his body, his towel loosened and fell to the floor. seonghwa and wooyoung immediately yelled again and shielded their eyes from the unwanted nude visual in front of them.
"jeong yunho!!" seonghwa scolded as he turned away.
"sorry!" yunho hurriedly grabbed the towel and disappeared into the bathroom again.
"at least he's hot..?" wooyoung said slowly.
seonghwa shivered.
"..nasty ass," he mumbled with a small swat at wooyoung's shoulder.
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fics-lovebot · 1 year
Text
ateez fic recs
main masterlist
· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations
i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))
pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️
ot8 / poly
ateez as boyfriends - smut, the description is so- just read it pls, you´ll get the visuals
loved - angstttty, they make you feel insecure about the relationship so you leave and they want to kts, part 2
mythical beings! ateez as your boyfriend - 80% crack, mingi is def my fave one lmao
in the same class - they´re so fucking flirty and hot and sdfksjdfkjsldkfjh i loved it, yuhno plays too much, the yeosang one would me be fr, mINGI MANSPREADING YESSS
when they have a crush - love love love, so fluffy
realizing they´re in love with you - so fluffly too :(
hongjoong
he´s kinda hot - demon! joong, he kills ur ex-bf bc he sold his soul for some stupid shit, now he wants you
seonghwa
biker seonghwa - slice of life, brother´s best friend! hwa, yeosang as the brother, he is flirtyyy, "pretty girls don't use their pretty mouths to lie"
san
fucking you stupid - idol!san, this made me want to sCREAAAAAMMMM bc wtf????, he is MEAN but at the same time it´s an aPoLogY kind of fuckinG?? ikyfl, he marks you,, LITERALLY.
car accident - angst, angst, angst, aNGSTTTTTT, my god. reader is pregnant with twins, read if you want to fucking crY :)
glimpse of us - a lil angsty angst, break up au
his princess - smut, fluff, bad boy! san, innocent spoiled! reader, he´s obsessed with her, so so in love
wooyoung
mingi
the princess treatment chronicles -fluff, crack, f2l, best friend!mingi, he has this 5 step princess treatment list and falls in love with whoever completes it.. yes, reader gave him princess treatment, as she should. this is really cute, she does everthing on accident and he paniCKS bc they´re besties and all that, very very cute
virgin loser!mingi - smut, shy! mingi, brain dead every time he sees you, he´s a fucking pervvv skdfskjd, dirty thoughts 24/7, dreams of you, watches porn thinking of you, ass man (canon), he´s so obsessed omg
you´re drunk - slice of life, I LOVE ITTTTTTTTTT, bf! mingi taking care of drunk oc but she doesn´t recognizes him, he call her "tiny" :(, he fixes her skirt :(((,
no good - angst, cheating au
yeosang
prince yeosang - royalty au, I LOVETHISSSSSSSS, he´s so husband material :(, it´s so well written
his fan - ido! yeo, baby daddy! yeo, long distance relationship, he falls in love with a fan at a meet & greet, pregnancy, he just wants his own lil family :( so cute
yunho
yunho as your boyfriend - fluff, smut, I hate thESEEE bc they make me so delusional sdlfjsdfj
hands - smut, "do you want to breathe or do you want to cum" SIR?????
size kink - smut, we already know yunho is a big mf, tiny! reader, you wear one of his shirts and goes all praise kink on you, we love that
size training - smut, size kink, wwwwhat do you mean size trAINING??? what is we talking about rn??
jongho
so lovely - fluff, you take care of him after a show, this is so CUTE, it´s pure sweet love
166 notes · View notes
shootingshinestar · 2 months
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ATEEZ AS FRUITS THREAD ⤵️
I had trouble thinking what fruits they would be cuz they are the whole fruit basket
Hongjoong as cherry 🍒
Cherry can be sweet or sour. However, that doesn't stop it from being on top. I imagine cherries with being on top of ice cream like a banana split. He is always on top of work and performing! He is their captain leading his crew! Cherry is the center piece of desserts and used as the final touch. Just like those cherries, hongjoong brings ateez together as their center~
Seonghwa as strawberry 🍓
Literally strawberry is part of the shine star core. Talk to any hwa stan and they will have something with strawberry on it. Strawberry and croquette is just part of shinestar life atp 💀
Yunho as pear 🍐
Honestly, I had trouble with what yunho would be as a fruit, and then I chose pear! I read that pear is associated with good and healthy relationships! I think his friendship with mingi shows that. He is the ateez member who always does the tiktok challenges with other idols lol he has a friendly demeanor and good aura to be around (I think it's funny that yunho is always the Mc for shows like his vibes are just prefect for showcasing awards and acting)
Yeosang as grape 🍇
Grape are often in portraits of luxurious and rich. Yeosang has a very elegant and royal visual so I thought grapes fit him so well! Grapes come as a bunch, which fits yeo well as everyone in ateez is always after him hehet
San as orange 🍊
Ever since I saw him dressed as an orange farmer for thier fan meet, I associated with him with oranges. Orange can be simple like his fashion taste but it can versatile like him doing all sorts of things like going to fashion shows to picking garlic.
Mingi as watermelon 🍉
The hard shell of the watermelon can be compared to his cold and judgy approach however in the inside, he is a big softie and cutie ^^ (I'm gonna bring it up now, but mingi is not a frat boy 😭 I've seen those videos of which male idols would join a frat and it includes mingi and san??? Like bro stays in the room all day and watches anime lmao he only hangs out with yuyu)
Wooyoung as peach 🍑
Bro is so babygurl coded like ??? Anyways, Peaches are often associated with sweet and cute aesthetic = babygirl woo. Also bro had shake that during crazy form. Iconic fr ✨️ Bro is grabbing everyone peach too lmao.
Jongho as apple 🍎
Apple is literally part of his brand lol apple are so strong that it cause head injury which is funny considering jongho can possibly do the same thing to you haha. He is one of the strongest members in the group! I mean he is known for breaking fruits like apple with his bare heads like? Pretty iconic fr
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cookycherry · 2 years
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Truth or Confession: Choi San One shot
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*this gif is how I visualize he looks at Y/N over anything they do*
Pairing- San x reader
Genre- smut, some fluff,forest sex, fem!reader, established friendship, established friendship with group, friends to lovers
Warning-smut, forest sex, unprotected sex
Word count-2700
Summary-Your best friend Seonghwa invites you to a weekend of camping, which unfolds into confessions from your admirer.
It felt like summer break back in primary school.
A long weekend holiday in the great outdoors.
You were invited by your childhood friend Seonghwa who managed to keep you by his side through all of his crazy life ups and downs.
He becomes a trainee; you got your first after school job.
He debuts as part of one of the biggest up and coming idol groups; you graduate college.
For each one of your successes you both always texted each other to celebrate.
He always invited you as a sole VIP to any events to mingle with his band mates. As your presence became more welcomed and frequent, It was clear to you that one of Seonghwa’s new friends was very intrigued by you.
His name was San, and he always made sure to be the first to greet you when you were invited around.
So, when you got texted the invite for the weekend camping getaway you weren’t surprised and even were less surprised to be doted on by San.
For the past three days when it came to hiking, swimming or any friendly banter; San was right there by your side, very much like a puppy.
“San, will you stop bothering Y/N and help me with this campfire?” Seonghwa struggled to get the kindling to catch the flame while Yunho laughed.
San had taken it upon himself to assist the job that required very little help of setting up the s’mores.
“San, I really think you should go over there before Momma Hwa kills you.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he opened a bag of graham crackers.
San looked over his shoulder at the sad excuse for a campfire.
“I’ll save you a spot next to me when we make the s’mores.” You smiled at San and nodded your head in the direction he was being summoned.
San’s face lit up like the sun. “I’ll hold you to it.”
You watched how San sauntered over to help, taking in his muscular frame. He had let his black hair grow out a bit. The jeans he wore hugged his butt just right and the peach shirt he was wearing accentuated his sunny demeanor.
Looking at him this way made the butterflies in your stomach flutter.
———
“So that’s how I ended up recording the same song about 1395 times.” Hongjoong laughed as he munched on the end of a s’more.
The air was light and flowed in a way you felt all the cares in the world were lifted off your shoulders.
You all had spent the evening well into the sunset laughing. It gave you peace that everyone was enjoying this freedom of being able to talk like they weren't celebrities, just normal guys you grew to know.
“So, y/n got any embarrassing stories of Seonghwa from your years growing up with him?” Mingi took a swig of soju as he playfully nudged Yeosang who was laughing up a storm.
You looked at Seonghwa who was red with panic and probably too much soju.
“I mean there was one time where he made us late to a joint family vacation cause he took an hour long shower!” You laughed while everyone began to rag on your pal.
“Oh oh! I have an idea. Let’s go around and play truth or dare.” Wooyoung had stood up taking charge.
A round of agreements.
The game then started and turned into a drinking game of sorts, eventually it got back to being San’s turn.
“Ok. San.” Hongjoong giggled while he tried to find the words for having San pick truth or dare. “Truth! Or Dareeee.” He wiggled his fingers in an attempt to be spooky.
San, who appeared to be holding his alcohol well, smiled. “Truth.”
The boys all ooohed and awed at the sudden bravery.
“Hmmm ok.” Hongjoong smiled as he bit his lip. “Do you or do you not have a crush on y/n?” Hongjoong giggled like a schoolgirl while everyone waited for the answer in hushed silence.
San inhaled deeply before turning to you. You were gripping your soju bottle until your hand was white knuckled. His face was solemn and his dark eyes studied your face.
“I think I’m in love with her.”
Hongjoong fell backwards off the tree stump he was perched on;Yeosang and Jongho ran to help their leader. Mingi and Yunho let out a cheer as if they were at a soccer match. Meanwhile Seonghwa and Wooyoung sat in complete drunken shock.
You sat taking this in.
No one had ever confessed their feelings for you, you thought of how in primary school you confessed and were turned down. You wouldn’t deny you didn’t have a crush on San mutually, you couldn’t believe someone famous and this handsome was this into you. You felt like you were in a drama on tv.
Your mouth opened and closed, unable to say anything.
“Well. I think it’s time for bed.” Seonghwa stood up, beginning to pick up around the campfire. “We have a boat rented for early tomorrow to be out on the water so we should get some rest.”
You watched as San went around picking up the trash, he was wandering his way further from the scene of his confession.
“San, lemme help !” You jogged over to him to offer any assistance.
The rest of his band mates were crawling into their respective tents. The moon was now peeking over top of the campground. A light chill was present now that you weren’t cradled by the warmth of a flame. You shivered and held your arms around your body. Your sweatshirt was doing little, especially when you were wearing shorts.
San noticed and walked over rubbing his warm hands on your shoulders, “Are you cold ? You really don’t have to help me pick this stuff up. I’m almost done anyways.” His voice was deep and warm. You caught the scent of his cologne.
Your teeth chattered as a gust of wind blew. “I want you to know that I like you too.” You held his gaze during your own confession. You felt his hands grip your shoulders more. A crack broke from his voice and he appeared to be starstruck.
You leaned over and kissed his dimple, grinning, “I’m sure we can find a way to get some alone time.” You pushed yourself against him to emphasize your point, it was now or never. Maybe it was the soju, the confession and the fact you hadn’t slept with anyone in three years ;everything building up to this moment. Your stomach went into a nosedive as you waited for his response.
He chuckled to himself, his beautiful dark eyes twinkling, “I think I would love nothing more than for that to happen.”
Your heart leapt to your throat.
Surveying quickly to see if anyone was roaming and would notice your sudden disappearance you grabbed San’s hand and led him into the forest opening. He followed quickly behind you as he held your hand. You then stopped in a clearing that was the perfect distance for you both to not be caught with what was about to happen. “San, are you sure?”
You looked up at him and ate up the attraction on his face he was holding all for you. You blushed, feeling your face heat up. Eagerly, you went in for the kiss, you connected your lips with San’s. His lips moved sweetly, gentle as they caressed your own, his hand coming up to cup your face and draw you closer. Taking San by surprise, you parted your lips defiantly, letting your tongue venture out to prod at his slightly parted mouth. His eyes flew open as you cupped his face and brought his lower lip between your teeth. San firmly grabbed your face, forcing you to look directly into his dark brown, almost ebony eyes, “Once this happens I really can’t hold back. I’d be the happiest man alive.”
You froze, suddenly feeling hot. Now was the time, your whisper was soft as a feather, “Of course.”
San’s demeanor changed completely then, the sweetness in his touch felt like hot brands on your skin, everything was replaced by this new man in front of you who you had only experienced as a boy striving for your attention. He lifted his head, holding his gaze was like lifting a heavy weight. There was so much withheld emotion and want in his eyes, you didn’t know what to do except kiss his waiting lips.
He immediately responded to your touch, moving you so that you were pressed against a firm tree. His lips tasted like passion and soju; every time he bit your bottom lip, you let out a small noise of appreciation. He was patient with you, letting you figure out what you liked and where it was you wanted to be touched. His hands roamed around your body like embers, but as soon as he let his hands slip under your shirt and brush across your hips and back, you lost it. His fingertips were rough against your fragile skin, warm as the sun.
You groaned when they traveled to your thighs, squeezing them tightly before releasing and then repeating again. San broke from the kiss to gaze at you in both amusement and amazement, he didn’t realize how satisfying it would be to finally hear your sounds of pleasure.
“San,” you whispered against his lips, loving the sensation when they brushed against his. It felt so intimate, so right.
He let out a groan, his hands coming up to grasp at your breasts through your shirt, pinching a hardened nipple which earned him a moan in appreciation. “You want me?”
You could only nod frantically when his hand traveled to your clothed core, rubbing you through the rough material of your jean shorts. Never had he seen you look so undone before and both of you were still fully clothed. You had the same thought at that moment, and tentatively reached for the hem of his shirt, you fiddled with it, not sure what to do.
He noticed your hesitation and slid his hands comfortingly over your own, helping you to pull his shirt off, “It’s your turn now.” His smile was warm and in that moment, you knew he was going to take care of you through this.
You allowed him to slip both your sweatshirt and bra off, feeling the brisk air more intensely. You felt a rush of happiness mixed with pride as you saw San’s eyes roving over your skin hungrily.
He then allowed himself to kiss all over your chest, his hands finding your hips and tugging you toward him rhythmically.
You let your hands slide into his raven hair, pulling at the tips as your hips rolled into him. You savored the way your jeans rubbed against your increasingly aroused core.
San’s voice rose an octave as your crotch slid against his hardened length, “Shit.” He began to pant, as you increased your speed, suddenly feeling frantic as you continued to remove yourself over his jeans.
Your clit throbbed, confusion and desperation coming together to form want, “San, please.”
He slowed your hips, making sure he had your full attention. He didn’t want to hurt you, your word was final. His voice was tender, “Are you sure you want this now? Tell me to stop and I will.”
You felt panic in the back of your throat for a second, but it wasn’t from fear, it was the thought of not having him tonight. “No, please,” you calmed yourself quickly, collecting your thoughts, “I want you.”
San nodded, his eyes darkening as he caressed your cheek, kissing you chastely before he began to unbuckle his belt. You felt your anticipation rise at each clink of metal, your hands going to the button and fly of your jeans as well. The two of you watched each other with bated breath, not wanting to miss what the other was doing.
Soon you both were completely bare to each other. You felt overloaded as you became aware of each place his skin was touching yours. It surprised you how warm San was against you. He suckled your neck, his hand drifting to your soaking center, his thumb making teasing circles on your clit.You cried out when he slipped a finger into you and he bit his lip at the sound, feeling himself grow hard.
You unconsciously moved your hips with the movement of his hand and you practically bucked into him when he pushed two more fingers into you, “San!”
He groaned, adoring the way you called his name out, “Who’s making you feel this way?” He increased the speed of his fingers, crooking them inside of you, and pressing down hard on your clit.
You were a mess. Feeling your eyes squeeze shut and hands balled into fists, you cried out, “Choi San.”
His fingers suddenly left you completely, making your eyes fly open in the absence of contact. You looked down to see that he was pumping his cock slowly, his eyes roving against your naked, wanting body. You watched with bated breath as his hand moved over himself, feeling yourself instinctively edge closer each time he let out a groan.
San licked his lips, looking forward to feeling you around him finally. “Are you ready for me?”
It took you a few moments to process his question as you were distracted with the way his hand was moving, you nodded.
He smirked deliciously, pushing you against the tree and lifting your leg for easy entry, planting his forearm by your head. He guided his cock to your entrance, rubbing your core teasingly, making you squirm in anticipation.You gasped as he pushed further in, you ran your fingers into his thick hair anchoring yourself and gasping loudly as he fully entered himself in you.
San let out the most satisfied moan you’d ever heard, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to control himself from pinning you down and fucking the shit out of you. You saw how much he was battling with himself and you whispered, “It’s okay, San. I can handle it.”
He began to roll his hips into you, collapsing into you with a moan as he gave into the feeling of your walls sliding around him. You moaned as well, relishing the feeling of his hot skin against your own, wrapping your raised leg around his hips to draw him closer. He buried his head into your neck, biting down on your shoulder occasionally when the pleasure became too much. His pace seemed to increase with each second, the slap of skin against skin filling the buzzing night air.
You felt bold in your passion and gasped out, “I wanna hear you, San.”
He groaned at your request, his thrusts become rougher, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He tangled a hand in your hair, pulling it just enough to make you cry out in sheer bliss.
You could feel your thighs begin to spasm as your orgasm approached, a knot tightening in your stomach, your walls clenching, your clit throbbing as he applied just enough pressure.
You cried out, your climax slamming into you as San continued to thrust roughly into you, the rhythm of his hips becoming more sporadic. You felt his cock twitch inside of you, his pants becoming soft whimpers as he finally released messily inside you. You legs shook in over stimulation as your muscles continued to clench around him, he groaned breathlessly.
It took the both of you a few moments to collect yourself as you experienced each other’s highs, your breaths mixing together. San pulled out gently so as to not hurt you, before catching himself against the tree against you and drawing you into his chest.
You laughed, your cheeks flushed with happiness, “Worth the anticipation.”
He languidly brushed your hair, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “I think I gotta thank that stupid game.”
He kissed your cheek sweetly, “So where does this leave us?”
You blushed happily, pulling him in for a kiss, “Well, you can tell them tomorrow over breakfast.”
475 notes · View notes
twice-usagi · 3 months
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10 . I’VE GOT YOU | TDOONG
୨ ₊ ┈ ⪩⪨ ┈ ₊ ୧
⠀⠀ ⌢ . ꒰ うさぎ | 🐻 ꒱ . ⌢
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ BIRTH NAME : choi usagi
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ KOREAN NAME : choi hwa-young
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ ENGLISH NAME : serena choi
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ NICKNAMES : twice’s #1 fangirl ( once ) , usa, nation’s sweetheart, ace, siren of k-pop, diamond maknae, teddy bear ( twice, once ) whitney houston of k-pop, usa-bear, jyp’s lottery ticket
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ BIRTH DATE : january 26, 2002
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ AGE : 22 ( int. ) 23 ( kor. )
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ ZODIAC SIGN : horse
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ BIRTHPLACE : nowon-gu, seoul, south korea
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ NATIONALITY : korean
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ HOMETOWN : nowon-gu, seoul, south korea
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ ETHNICITY : korean, japanese
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ LANGUAGES —
-ˏˋ korean - 100%
-ˏˋ japanese - 100%
-ˏˋ english - 100%
-ˏˋ spanish - 50%
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ HEIGHT : 157 cm ( 5’2ft )
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ WEIGHT : 50 kg ( 110lbs )
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ BLOOD TYPE : O
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ HAIR COLOR : black ( natural ) dark green ( currently )
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ EYE COLOR : dark brown
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ CLAIMS —
-ˏˋ face : seulgi + mackenyu
-ˏˋ vocal tone : seulgi ( red velvet )
-ˏˋ vocal range : wendy ( red velvet )
-ˏˋ dance : seulgi ( red velvet )
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ GENDER : female
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ PRONOUNS : she/her
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ RELATIONSHIP STATUS : in a relationship ( est. 2022 )
TDOONG CARRER..!
⌢ . ꒰ うさぎ | 🐻 ꒱ . ⌢
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ STAGE NAME : usagi, usagi uchiha
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ HANGUL : 우사기, 우사기 우치하
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ COMPANY : jyp entertainment
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ TRAINEE PERIOD : 5 years ( 2010 - 2015 )
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ DEBUT AGE : 13 ( int. ) 14 ( kor. )
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ UNIT : misamogi
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ LINE(S) —
-ˏˋ 4mix : nayeon, jeongyeon, jihyo, usagi
-ˏˋ japanese line : momo, sana, mina, usagi
-ˏˋ visual : sana, mina, tzuyu, usagi
-ˏˋ maknae : mina, dahyun, chaeyoung, tzuyu, usagi
-ˏˋ dance : momo, mina, usagi
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ GROUP : twice ( 트와이스 )
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ POSITIONS : main vocalist, lead dancer, visual, maknae
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI : 🐻
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ RANKING —
-ˏˋ vocal : 10/10
-ˏˋ rap : 4/10
-ˏˋ dance : 10:10
-ˏˋ visual : 9/10
-ˏˋ stage presence : 10/10
-ˏˋ acting : 10/10
-ˏˋ producing : 9/10
-ˏˋ songwriting : 10/10
-ˏˋ choreography : 8/10
-ˏˋ leadership : 3/10
-ˏˋ public speaking : 5/10
TDOONG PERSONAL..!
⌢ . ꒰ うさぎ | 🐻 ꒱ . ⌢
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ MBTI TYPE : INTP, logician
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ DESCRIPTION : INTP personalities often lose themselves in thought – which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. People with this personality type hardly ever stop thinking. From the moment they wake up, their mind buzzes with ideas, questions, and insights. At times, they may even find themselves conducting full-fledged debates in their own heads. And it’s not uncommon for them to drift off during conversations. Their mind simply executes a detour to uncharted territories of thought where new ideas are constantly being born.
INTPs cherish their independence and often find themselves most productive during the late evening hours when distractions are kept to a minimum. Even so, it would be a mistake to think that these personalities are unfriendly or uptight. When they connect with someone who can match their mental energy, INTPs absolutely light up, leaping from one thought to another. Few things energize them like the opportunity to swap ideas or enjoy a lively debate with another curious, inquiring soul.
From the outside, INTPs may seem to live in a never-ending daydream. They have a reputation for being pensive, detached, and a bit reserved. That is, until they actively try to direct all of their mental energy on the moment or the person at hand. But regardless of which mode they’re in, INTPs are Introverts and tend to get tired out by extensive socializing. After a long day, they crave time alone to consult their own thoughts.
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ STRENGTHS : open-minded, curious, honest, analytical, generous
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ WEAKNESSES : overthinking, impatient, disconnected, insensitive
TDOONG TRIVIA..!
⌢ . ꒰ うさぎ | 🐻🐰 ꒱ . ⌢
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ HABITS : zoning off, braiding her hair, popping/cracking her knuckles, taking 0.5 pictures
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ PHOBIAS : fear of heights, fear of clowns, fear of deep parts of water
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ LIKES : once, twice, one piece, anime/manga, silly socks, the color pink, kdramas, chocolate, food, horror movies, zombie tv shows/movies, bts, shopping for new clothes, taking 0.5 pictures, marvel, batman, legos, her curly hair, true crime podcasts/documentaries, cats, lying on the floor/her bed, her family
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ DISLIKES : getting yelled at, failing, heights, crying babies/toddlers, pruny fingers, straightening her hair, snakes, insects, stinky people
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chaerssss · 1 year
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REDAMANCY
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Word count:- 4.2k (approx.)
Pairings:- childhoodbestfriend!hwa x y/n
Type:- Mini series (part 1)
Genre:- Fluff, angst, romance, comedy, a hint of fake relationship. (look forward to the smut in other parts besties!)
Song reccs:- Love, Maybe (secret number), stay with me (miki matsubara), Day and night (Jung seung hwan), Some (bol4)
Seonghwa's theme:- Ditto (instrumental)
Y/n's theme:- Gone (instrumental)
FYI:- the title means, 'A love returned in full'
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"I'm so bored."
"Should we go eat at a café?"
"No."
"Karaoke?"
"No."
"Arcade?"
"No."
"Comic store?"
"No."
"Wanna go jump off a building with me?"
"Yes please."
The latter chuckled at your response and shook his head. His hands shuffled through his pockets and he took out an item familiar to you. "Here, you left your scrunchie at my house. My mum found it." Your eyes go wide to finally see the scrunchie you had almost died finding yesterday, "and i thought I had lost it."
Your hands hold the scrunchie and you wear it on your wrist, as you always did. "Seonghwa's always at your service ma'am!" Seonghwa said, imitating a butler and you laughed it off. The bell rang and it was finally time to leave the school. "Ok but seriously I'm in need of food!"
"But i recommended a café before, didn't i?" Seonghwa recalled how you had rejected the proposal, "but I wanna eat rice cakes made by you!"
Your hands clutched his arm, and Seonghwa's eyes fall to your face. You looked so tiny from his perspective, but he knew if he said it, he'd get beaten up. Then came your eyes. So pretty. And so...magical. As though they casted a spell and he fell, his heart couldn't take the visual right now. So he turned his face to the other side, hoping you won't see his red face, "alright!" He mumbled.
Coming back from school was probably the best part of your day back then. Going to beaches, cafés, random karaokes. Even in the middle of the night, you were glued to the computer screen, talking to Seonghwa, while doing your homework together.
The next morning, meeting at the same river with your cycles to reach the school at the same time. It was like you were living the best days of your life. And...you took them for granted. Maybe that's why it was taken away.
Everything was planned for the future too. Your savings for your future to buy an apartment together, then getting a job for college to pay the fees. Oh and how could you forget the seperate section of money both of you collected for an exo concert.
Everyone assumed that you both were in love.
You weren't. But he was.
And so you still dread that day. Graduation. Because, all your plans had scattered before your eyes. You maintained a safe distance from him. All while, faking a smile as your principal allowed the students to throw their hats in the sky. The crowd was so loud, strange and..dark.
It felt, as though, everyone around you were in slow motion. That's when your eyes met his. Instead of those bright, round eyes, you saw sorrow in them... Regret, pain.
He glanced at you once, as if capturing this moment with his eyes. His hands untied something on his hand and he turned his back at you. You could see him wipe his tears despite his attempts to be subtle. And seconds later he disappeared. And it all went blank.
"../n?"
"...ke up!"
"y/n?"
"Y/n!!"
Your eyes open with a gasp. You lay there for a while, trying to make sens of your surroundings, until a head pops out. "You're sleeping during work hours?" Uh-oh your boss had seen you.
"Jeez, joong you gave me a scare." And you turn your head in the other direction and cover it with your arms while on the desk.
This guy. With blue hair. Was your best friend. You both met in the first year of college, both a little lost, both a little crazy. You guys had sewed together many dreams. Unsure if the future was anything like you had planned for yourself. However, fortunately.
Both of you got admitted to a fashion company in your second year. Which is pretty big for you guys because you were still inexperienced. With ups and downs you learned, and eventually you officially became permanent members of the company.
Hongjoong was dear to the previous CEO, so she promoted his position. Many other employees were so jealous and some even left the company because of the mistreatment but to you, Hongjoong deserved it. Despite being young, he had worked hard. And now the company is doing even better than it was a few years back.
"I scared you? You were practically wincing in your sleep." Your expressions dropped at his comment. "'Don't leave, don't go...' who were you dreaming of?" He leaned, raising one of his eyebrows. "No one."
He laughed aloud, which you knew very well was his sarcastic laugh, "you've got some guts to lie straight to your teeth and to 'me'!" He pointed at his chest, knowing damn well, who you were dreaming of. "I'm going to get a coffee, it's already time to go home. Take a good rest."
The walk back home wasn't long, mere 20 minutes. You decided to walk or cycle, rather than use a vehicle. One could say you were health conscious. And yet, it felt like an hour. Your eyes wander around, gazing at the dipping sun and the ducks in the lakes were swimming back.
The old couple, as usual was at the bench, never failed to make you smile. A brisk breeze makes your hair dance. Your path is decorated with brown leaves that fell from the now leaf less trees. A few get crushed under your shoes making a crunch sound, giving you a sense of satisfaction.
It was the same actually. Your hometown. Nothing had changed. And yet, something felt missing.
You bought an apartment as planned, it's well decorated, your salary is decent too, good Neighbors, a boss that's a friend as well, you have family and friend reunions from time to time. Everything was fine.
Then why?
Why did you still cry in the shower everyday?
Why did you still looked at that one picture frame for a little too long?
Why did your heart ache while watching those rom coms you once loved to watch?
Why did he still appear in your dreams?
Why, why won't your brain let you forget him?
A ring reaches your ears and pulls you from your thoughts. You put back the same photo frame, of him and you on the first day of school. He had a bowl cut and you had two silly pigtails. His cheeks were wet, he was crying, like his mother used to say...a crybaby. And you stood near him cracking the cutest pose when the kid next to you was having an existential crisis.
"Hello? Mom?"
"Oh hello honey, how are you?"
"I'm doing fine..what about you?"
"Oh me too, uh...sorry to call you at this hour but Surprise, surprise Mr and Mrs Park are here!" She exclaimed.
"...uhm, mom be specific."
"Seonghwa's mom! Well his parents are here and they wanted to meet you. After all it's been so many years. You should come by."
"...what?"
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Your heart sank. You could feel it. All the other sense had been turned off. You couldn't hear a thing or what your mom said and then cut the call off, the only sound you could hear was a precise ring. It had gotten a little hard to breathe. You put the phone down and held your head with your palms.
You can't comprehend what just happened. Neither do you know why's this happening but your anxiety level had risen to a whole new level. You keep walking around your living room in your comfortable extra large hoodie, in stress.
Was it really required for you to be there? And first of all, out of all the times, they decided to greet us now? What if you just ran away? Hongjoong could help!
And for a moment you came back to your senses, your thoughts had halted and you gently sat on the edge of your sofa's arm. Your lips let out a scoff, "he still has an effect on me..." That's the funny thing. Because all those years, there was not a single spark between you and him. Well, it might've been different for him. But, at the the same time you could never imagine a day without him.
Why are you like this? What has he done to you? You stare off at the empty wall, with the spirals of your words you doodle across it with your eyes. Just like that the time flew by and you hear your house bell ring. It pulled you out of your thoughts and you open the door without thinking much into anything.
Or without predicting that the person at this hour could be none other than...Park Seonghwa. "How is my favourite person doing?"
7 years.
7 fucking years.
And these are the first words he says to you. The last thing he said to you was something you still remember. Now look at him, calling you out so nonchalantly. Yeah...look at him.
He had changed. His style had changed. Or perhaps, seeing him after so many years was so...shocking. Back then, he couldn't style clothes for himself, or tie his tie. You remember, you were the one who taught him to tie his laces in around 2nd grade.
Look at him now. He looks lovely. As if he just came out of a magazine cover. Not a blemish on his skin, brighter than the sun. His jawline had gotten so sharp, and his shoulders. Even though he wore a coat due to the chilly weather, you could see they had gotten broader. His hair a little longer, his eyes...still intense as ever.
You probably look like an idiot, standing there with your jaw open and eyes wide, staring at your childhood bestfriend. So invested in his beauty, you had forgotten to speak. So the man just made his way inside the apartment.
"Woah, so you did buy an apartment for yourself. I must say it's well decorated!" He wandered around the house, admiring each and everything while you slowly started coming back to reality.
"What....what are you doing here?" You finally spoke as you closed the door behind you. The room temperature had fell down a little due to the cool air entering through the door you had opened for a little too long. "me?" He pointed to his chest, while looking at you with his boba eyes. As if there were more than two people in the room.
"...of course you!" You said with eyebrows furrowed because what kind of a question was that? He slowly makes his way to the sofa and settles there as though it was his house? He took out an apple from the fruit basket kept on the table, "I'm a friend y/n, of course I came here to see you. It's been 7 years after all!" He took a bite and it felt like the crunch had echoed through the dead silent house.
"...just like that?" Your eyes narrowed and had visible pain in it. And his were an opposite of yours. "Oh! You should get ready, my parent's are at your house, waiting for us to arrive." His voice muffled because of the fruit. And you just followed. You don't know if he had noticed your slightly teary eyes....you didn't care.
You were still perplexed and had to sit in the same car as him. This is the best time to regret your decision of not buying a car. Plus, the whole faking the smiles among his parents and yours. But it had been such a long time, seeing aunt and uncle. All the memories came flowing like water. Her delicious mochi dessert, or how she scolded hwa when he teased you. Uncle's first car, in which he took you to all the parks known to mankind, or his annual gifts for you.
So you just hugged them and sobbed like a child. Which didn't go unnoticed by Seonghwa. It reminded him how close you guys actually were. Even your families. All those little picnics and trips. And seeing you cry like that made his heart swell...how because of him a beautiful relationship like so was about to be destroyed.
Even though you said that you could return back on your own. Both of your families insisted that you should go with Seonghwa. And that man didn't back down as well. See if it would've been any other person, you would've agreed but to think it was Seonghwa. You had to again bear the awkwardness in the car.
The entire time you were looking out the window. Trying to distract your mind, which.... didn't work as always.
"Why did you come back?" You asked, still looking outside the window. Afraid to meet his gaze. The roads were empty as it was around midnight, it was a smooth drive. Thanks to that, the awkwardness was easy to manage.
"...I was trying to avoid the question." He chuckled which made you look at him. "Well not you can't..." "i know.."
He continued, " i know, I know it's weird that I came back..and at this point of life where, you probably moved on from the past. But I'm here to tell you that..."
The car came to a pause and because of the impact you slightly moved forward, and the words that's came out of Seonghwa's mouth were enough to rethink your entire life, "reconcile our friendship."
"....why?"
He seemed taken aback by your response, "well...it seems like you certainly don't want to." Jeez, his teasing habit still hasn't changed. "No...it's not like that,..." You paused and you fixated your eyes on dashboard, instead of his eyes, "why..did you have to leave in the first place..if you were gonna come back?"
Seonghwa gave out a deep sigh, "y/n-ah..." His honey like voice, said your name. He let his head rest on the seat and a lazy smirk appeared on his face...he must've been tired. Your heart...it's beating abnormally fast. "We were kids back then...and I was the one at fault. So... consider this as an apology, for what happened during graduation."
So carefree.
Why?
If the feelings he felt were true...so true that he decided to leave. How can he be saying these things to you?...were you...the one who hadn't moved on?
"I love you..."
His words. You still remember them. His expressions... his eyes. Everything.
"So what do you say y/n?"
Maybe you were in the wrong back then...or maybe you and no idea how to respond.
"I have..since we were kids."
It was flowing back to you as he sat right in front of you, recklessly asking you to turn back to the friendship he had broken. And made you like this.
"Hm?"
So,...your emotions weren't valid now, right? Neither were your feelings...So why should you care?
"Be mine for an eternity."
Your throat had started to feel tight. You took in a gulp to eliminate the lump, "I'm willing to be friends again..."
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"Woah you look terrible.." Hongjoong says as he comes by your cubicle. Of course, you do. You couldn't sleep a wink last night. "Do you wanna know the reason?" You ask him while lazily typing on the computer. "Hm, as far as I know it could not be a human, so I'm guessing, a sad movie or series?" Terrible. What a reputation you had built.
"I'm afraid this time it's the opposite." You've never seen Hongjoong throw his bun on the ground with his eyes so wide they could pop out anytime, "what...the..f-" you cover his mouth just in time. "rest in peace, Mr bun, it was not your fault."
For the next few minutes, you explain Hongjoong your entire story. The way your life quite literally changed in a night. "... that's actually crazy...and reckless. I mean I would personally call it shameless but I know that you called dibs on him so..." You crane your neck towards him, "I did not. I never told you that!"
"Well it's obvious isn't it?" He plops from the desk and stands straight in front of you, "it is weird he came back out of the blue. If I'm being honest...you should clear out the things with him." His hands come to caress your head, "i care about you...I mean I'm enough for that jerk but I don't want you to get hurt in any way. Sort it out, what you feel and what he feels."
Your bestfriend's words kept circling around your brain. Even as you walk back to your house. However, you see a familiar car in the middle of the road, a man leaning on it's door, carefully looking at his watch. His long hair,...look so fluffy, his eyes are hidden by the sunglasses but as soon as he spots you, those cheerful eyes are revealed. His hand waving to you and you walk straight to him.
"What're you doing here?"
"Here to pick you up!" He says in an exciting tone, which you find annoying because can he tone his excitement down. And yet at the same time you can't take up the fact, how adorable he is. But then, Hongjoong's words echo in your brain again. And for some reason, right now, feels like the best time to ask him the question.
"Um...I wanted to ask you something." You say, hesistent at first. "Go on..." Your hands clutch the fabric of your tote bag, "If I'm being honest, you coming back...didn't sit right for me. And..I know that you understand that it wouldn't feel good for me...might as well take some time to adjust."
Seonghwa seems to understand each and every word and he knows where this is headed. Yet, you can't catch an expression of vulnerability. Or pain.
But why were you hoping for it? Why did you want him to feel bad about a thing that happened 7 years ago? "But...I hope...your feelings for me have died down." Oh my god, you said it! Could there be a better way of saying it? Were you too harsh? A ton of questions already bombarded you.
Seonghwa starts with a light chuckle, and a bright smile gets morphed onto him, "I know...i completely get you. I think i forgot to mention but...i have a girlfriend."
....
Oh.
".. that's nice. I'm.. I'm happy for you." Maybe you were. Tch. Who were you lying to? You weren't. Your heart sank and you couldn't hear a word he said afterwards. A girlfriend huh? So you really were the only one who was still stuck in the past. You wanted to cry. You wanted to weep. And ask him why?
Couldn't he have waited just a little longer? Couldn't he have given you another chance?
Why would he?
The smell of the wet grass reaches you from the park, the gardener must be working. A few moments ago, you couldn't hear a thing and it feels as if all your five sense have been activated. And you feel a little too hot. Your palms were sweaty and your head felt all woozy.
"So, shall we go to a café hm?" His soft voice reached your ears. You just had a lot of emotions bottled up. "Seonghwa... let's go to a bar."
You wake with a sudden feeling. It is becoming a habit of yours to wake up as if you just experienced a bad dream, like the way main leads in a movie wake up. For a few seconds, you lay there... contemplating your life. Your eyes wandering around the house.
The familiar fan you always open your eyes to, the blinds still closed but the sun light pouring in from the spaces, your tv on the front that you bought with so much excitement. The same cream and white walls. Yeah, you were home.
The bed started to feel like a fluffy cloud and you just wanted to sleep again, but...your head was pounding so bad. It was almost like you felt your heartbeat in your brain. And your throat felt so dry. You slowly got up, your hands gave support to your head and you turn to the side table to have some water.
While sipping the water you notice something unfamiliar kept there, a small glass bottle. The label on it read 'hangover cure'. Hm.
Wait.
So, you drank last night. Crazy how you had forgotten everything. It was there but a blur...maybe it'll come back. Because you definitely don't remember buying a hangover drink. But oh well, you took it because your head felt like it could kill you any moment. As you're about to take a sip, your hands feel a texture different from the glass. It was paper. Your turn the bottle around to see a pink sticky note with hello kitty's doodles on it. It read 'drink this, it'll lighten the headache!! - SH'
Ah. It was Seonghwa.
You carried on with your day. Slow. Thank God it was a Saturday because what would you have done if you had to go to work today? While doing that your mind tries to recollect what happened.
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"I know...i completely get you. I think i forgot to mention but...i have a girlfriend."
Couldn't he have given you another chance?
Why would he?
"Seonghwa, let's go to a bar."
"I'm familiar with this place, a few of my friends and colleagues brought me here countless times." As if on cue the bartender called out for you and you waved back at him. Seonghwa was surprised at the interaction.
Especially, the bartender's reactions. He acted all shy and soft. Well...now that he's observing him, he's not that bad looking. Tsk. That is what's bothering him right now. However, his eyes fell back at you and he admired your features.
It was all coming back to him now. All from when his mum made him talk to the girl he used to look at secretly from behind the tree in the playground. And there you were. Your hair tied in two low pigtails, with ribbons on them and tiny clips holding your baby hair.
To when you both were in highschool, eating lunch together on the bench that was near a lake, having deep late night talks on the rooftop, movie sessions at his house specifically because it felt just right according to you. Him teaching you how to cook and you ended up burning whatever you made because that could not be called food. Or how....you used to say things so nonchalantly to him. Not knowing the effect they had on him.
"I'd do anything as long as it's with you."
"The moon sent you to me."
And now you're sitting in front of him, grown beautifully into an adult, drinking like a mad woman. He chortles at the thought. His admiration for you is interrupted because of a phone call. "Y/n..i have to take this. Stay here alright?" He made sure to tell you this very carefully because you were already so drunk. "Don't leave ok? I'll be back in a few seconds.." he left only after he had heard you say ok...or more like inaudible mumbles.
But of course you weren't gonna stay on your place. He comes back to an empty chair. In attempts of finding you everywhere, he has to now push through the crowds. The club is so noisy. (It's supposed to be noisy park Seonghwa smh). His anxiety levels are rising right now, you're an adult you can take care of yourself but being drunk...you can act quite crazy.
The universe is literally screaming at this point for Seonghwa to look behind. Because you are having your own concert on the random table and are surrounded by strangers. Who... apparently are enjoying it?
As soon as he turns his head he's... perplexed. Because you're dancing seductively on a 2000s song, in your work clothes. Which was actually not that boring since you worked in the fashion department. Your white dress that reached just above your knees and a cropped pastel blue sweater on top, supporting the attire with your kneee high socks and platform heels.
You ruffle around your hair, use your hands to touch your body, feeling yourself. Not caring about the world. Looking like the main actress of a drama. Oh god, why was his heart beating so fast? His jaw was open, as if surprised but not complaining. However, as soon as his eyes go below he finds a crowd of people there.
Clearly, he wasn't the only one having fun. So disgusting these people are. Recording and gawking at a young, drunk woman. Well...not all of them. Seonghwa tried to call you down but you kept rejecting, all in your world. Until you hit a light on your forehead slightly, and came back down. Seonghwa immediately covered you with his coat, and gently rubbed your forehead.
The next thing you knew, you were outside walking around. And your drunk self being silly as usual. From screaming at the ducks for being so cute, to complaining about why bananas weren't pink. And Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh which you were offended by.
"It's not funny, it's a geniune request for the universe!!" Your voice all raspy and wobbly and so were your steps. "Why did you drink if you're such a lightweight?"
"...i don't know, I felt like it."
Yeah right. It was all just to escape from the pain of confused feelings.
"Hwa?" Your lips let out the nickname after so many years and it ignited a spark in the said man's heart. He looked at you as if...you hung the stars in the sky. "Yes y/n-ah?"
"Do you believe in soulmates?" The question got him a little off-guard but he replied anyways, "I do.." you took a deep sigh and clutched his coat that was on your shoulders even tighter, the cold wind slapping your face, it turned your nose and cheeks red, "then, do you believe in lovers that are meant to be?"
"Yes I do." He said, without taking eyes off of you. He saw you pause a little, hesistent maybe. And then you turned your gaze to him and spoke in a soft tone, "...what about... lover's who are unaware of each other's feelings..."
The wind kept picking up it's pace, you saw his hair dance, while his eyes...they looked, hurt. Why? Did you say something wrong? It was because he knew what you were hinting at. He would like to talk about it...one day, he'll make you sit and talk all about it. But finding the right time is getting harder. And he's afraid he might lose the time.
Before he opens his mouth to speak you shut him by saying it's late and we should head back. The entire car ride was so awkward. Not that it was anything new, but the drinking helped to distract you from the situation. As soon as you got out of the car, you gave him his coat back. The warmth that was taken away, you felt so dejected.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he seemed even more mesmerising than before. You just wanted to kiss him...but it'd be too spontaneous huh? His scent felt so intoxicating. While walking back a few tears fell from your eyes, you're not sure why. Seonghwa saw you wiping them....it broke his heart to see you like that, but what could he possibly do when in the first place, it was because of you, the seperation happened.
You can be quite a handful. Sitting on the beanbag, with coffee in your hand and a book on your lap. Which was just..there. because your mind was preoccupied by your last night's embarassing acts.
You felt a vibration as you were sitting on the bean bag, then your phone caught your attention. 'mum' the words shone bright on them.
"Hey honey...how was your day yesterday?" Her voice as gentle as ever. "It was...alright. I'm hungover right now by the way." To which you received a fit of laughter. Your mum had always been your biggest support, she was like a ball of sunshine wrapped in the attire of a mother. She always taught you to stay humble, grateful and a little crazy for the fun's sake. That's why you can share whatever you want with her.
"Whom did you go out with? Was it Hongjoong? Or That blind date guy, what was his name? Mountain?" She asked and you internally laughed at the 'mountain', "San mom, his name was San." A little Ah, of realisation came from the other end. "And no...I was with, Seonghwa."
As if other people weren't enough she started making teasy sounds and the 'oohs', for a fact you know her eyebrows are wiggling and she's poking the air which indirectly is you. "Mooom!" You whined trying to stop her trail of thoughts. "You know we're just friends right?"
"Of course I do...but he's a good guy no?" You rolled your eyes as if she could see you right now, "That doesn't provide as a valid reason to date him?" And your mom counter attacked with, "well, San was a nice guy too, I also teased you about him but you never gave him a chance as well."
You halted, because if it was about your relationship status, you could never win in that section with your mum. "I'm just saying....you guys have known each other since you were kids, and he's attractive too, hm?" Yeah, you would agree on that one thing. All those memories, where a number of girls had approached you just to fish out seonghwa's number or to get close to him. Oh and how could you forget the amount of gifts he recieved during valentine's day.
Thinking about it now, really makes you realize that...what you felt back then, was 'jealousy'. And not in a way that your friend was being taken away from you. But because...he was yours. It had always been Seonghwa and Y/n from the start.
"Besides, the way you two look at each other, can't just limit you to just 'friends'."
Was it really that obvious? Your lips gave out a sigh and you took another sip of your coffee. "Oh also, Seonghwa's parents are celebrating there 26th marriage anniversary, and all of us are invited."
The location was sent on your phone, you had to focus on the 'getting ready' part. On god, you never thought much about your outfits but today. Specifically today, you wanted to look the best out there. If Hongjoong was here he would've said "who are you going to impress with that dress?" While smirking and teasing the shit out of you.
But honestly,...who were you going to impress? "S-.." don't say it. You can't admit it!
The party venue was so beautiful. It was an outdoor restaurant, and filled with nature. Those trees and bushes were decorated with golden fairy lights, as you walked a bit further, all the tables were settled and flowers were hung on strings with more fairy lights that acted like a ceiling. Every table had a candle lamp. This reminded you very much of Tangled for some reason.
Your parents had already met you, in fact, even Seonghwa's parents greeted you. The only person missing was him. The party had all sorts of people, some you knew and some were absolute strangers. Amongst all, you wanted to look for him.
So restless. As though, without him you can't breathe. It just makes you question how the hell did you survive these 7 years without him? It must be funny to him too. You could've stopped him....but something about his back on you, made you feel like you weren't worth him.
A champagne flute in your hand, you were there physically but your mind was lost in the clouds of memories. Should you even be feeling this right now. As you're eyes wander around a tap on your shoulder is felt to which you turn around, "Who're you waiting for?"
Your head rotates towards the voice to find Seonghwa in a fitted white shirt, the first few buttons opened to expose his collarbones. God, you could almost outline his built, might be the lightening or the material of the shirt and he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, which for some reason was so hot? The bottoms were black, his wrist had a rolex while his neck was adorned with a gold chain. Oh yeah...he used to wear that back then too. His hair were down, and so floofy, you wanted to run your hands through them.
"Y/n?" His fingers snapped in front of you and you came back to your senses, realizing you were practically gawking at the said man. However, you weren't the only one observing. You could feel his gaze go from the top of your head to your toes. Analyzing, more like admiring the way you looked. Although, he wanted to rip of the dress right then and there that hugged your body so perfectly, he had to control himself.
The bun didn't make it any easier as well, the dresse's square neckline exposed your collarbones and he noticed that the dress had a slit as it went down showcasing one of legs. Gosh, you looked like a goddess.
"Y/n...you look, beautiful." He complimented in his soft voice, the way he looked down on you, and for some reason he leaned in even closer, your breath had started to hitch so bad. Your aura was now filled by his stimulating scent, he slouched down to meet your eyes, his eyes boring right into yours.
Somehow the whole world faded away, it was just you and him. One of his hands came up and tucked a hair strand behind your ear, from there, it went to your earlobe. He caressed it so softly, you were sure you'd fall, your knees were so weak, all because of the proximity between you guys.
"Did your earring get lost?" He whispered, and you stood there dumbfounded. "Hm?"
"Your earring."
Then it made sense to you, he was talking about one of your earrings which probably fell somewhere and you had no idea. "Oh...um...i-i.." ah yes, the classic stammering. No, honestly now you get why those main actresses reacted this way, tongue tied because apparently your mind goes blank and all you can think about right now is kissing him.
His smirk was still pasted on his face, like he enjoyed teasing you, "that's alright we'll find it." The rest of the night was beautiful. You enjoyed every second of it. Because on the dinner table your parents couldn't stop talking about your childhood stories and the same was for hwa's parents.
All the little stories, and Seonghwa's were mostly embarassing and you knew he wanted to run away. His face was so red and the wine was absolutely not the reason. Meanwhile, your laughter couldn't be stopped. You guys really stayed together for so long huh.
After a while when you got up to get ice cream, you see Seonghwa talking to a man. He seemed familiar for some reason. Just as gorgeous, but his hair were longer and he wore earrings in both his ears, and was also shorter than hwa. You decided to join them.
"Hey guys..." You started but it felt like you made a wrong decision because the atmosphere for some reason was already so tense. "Yes, her." Seonghwa said and you looked at him in confusion because now both of them were looking at you with their narrow eyes. "Wh-" and before you could speak Seonghwa interrupts, "my girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" A voice from the back greeted you. How lovely.
Both of your families had heard what this man had blurted out.
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Astounded. You sit in the car. Staring into space. Seonghwa sat besides you, panicking visibly. No, because if someone passed by the car they would see the most comical scene. You hear a meek, really timid call for your name and you don't even bother to look at the man. Instead you click your tongue and start screaming on top of your lungs.
"YOU IDIOT! WHAT HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?! HUH?" While throwing anything and everything you could find- which somehow included a bottle of sanitizer and a chocolate box?
"YOU ALREADY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! WHY THE HECK WOULD YOU LIE? ARE YOU CHEATING ON HER?? THIS WAS NOT THE WAY YOU WERE RAISED PARK SEONGHWA!!" nag nag, like a mom. And hwa was going through what could be described as a traumatic experience because now came your smacks and punches.
"Y/n let me explain!!" The man finally managed to say something but you hit him more before calming down. Seonghwa looked like a scared cat as he passed a water bottle to you. You glared at him and snatched the bottle, gulping it down.
"It's gonna come as a stupid excuse...but that just...slipped off my tongue." He began and you hands already found themselves in your hair, clutching them hard, "...what would you say to your girlfriend then? Why'd you take my name anyways?"
His face morphed into that of sorrow, "we...uh.." you already knew what he was going to say. "Broke up." It pained you to see him like this. You still remember vivdly, how he was so afraid to talk to other girls but some of his friends made him go on a blind date, and those girls were mean, they insulted him and he came back crying. This was 10th grade by the way. His head in your lap as you tried to calm him down.
He had always been so soft, you couldn't imagine what he would've went through in this cruel world. "We were already very distant. It always felt like we there just for the show. So last night...she finally decided to break up."
Now the stars align.
He then explained why he said that there on the spot. Apparently, Wooyoung, is one of his work rivals. He didn't want to back down in front of him, because he had taken a full 2 months vacation from his work, saying that he's getting engaged. And well, seeing Wooyoung here, he got a bit freaked out, because Wooyoung could end his career. But luckily you walked straight there, like an angel.
Yeah, more like a lamb walking into a lion's den.
"But you could've said it a little less loud... because the whole family heard...and it's going to take a lot of time to clear this misunderstanding." You began, because your families that already shipped you, were in their emotional phase right now and anything you would say could be and would be taken as a betrayal.
"Sorry..." He muttered.
Despite having a pout on your face you took your handkerchief and blew hot air on it so that it'll warm up and then used that as a heating devide on Seonghwa's forehead, "...must've hurt.."
Seonghwa watches you care for him, even though you winced more and kept asking "does it hurt?" Tch. Gosh, only if he could kiss you right now. Wait. What?
Yes, he thought that right now.
It's isn't his fault though. If one thing he has learned from his friendship with you, is that, soulmates exists. And one-sided love is true. God, he fell so hard. He can't look at anyone else like the way he looks at you. And no one, no one makes him feel the things you do. "You look like a dream..."
He says out of the blue, and you slowly move your eyes to meet his, that's when you realise you're too close. Dangerously close. "What did you say?" You whispered, too scared to speak up, as though breaking the shell both of you had created around you in a span of seconds.
"You look like a dream."
Wow, somehow you survived the situation. You're standing at your door step while Seonghwa's car is still outside the main gate, waiting for you to get inside. But you don't, you look back once again, with a grin, a little too happy for some reason and wave at him. You see him chuckle as he waved back and you got inside. You never wanted to leave but...had to.
As soon as you close the door you slide against the door, looking red like a tomato. Your palms hide your face as you squeal and giggle like a teenager in love. "I'm in trouble..."
Seonghwa thinks back at the moment, he got bold huh? But, someone honked right from behind then screamed "get a room". Yes. It was Wooyoung. He smiled at the memory, he takes off his watch and then his shirt to change into comfortable clothes that's when he realises, he forgot to return you something. His hand shuffle into the pockets of his pants.
A sigh leaves his lips, "guess this gives us another chance to meet." His palm held your earring that you had lost. He doesn't look like it but he is sneaky, he found that earring near where you stood but you were too lost in your world.
So you were Seonghwa's fake girlfriend now. And your family also believed that lie. Crazy, but now they kept teasing you for it. Something about marriage and kids and what not. You shurgged it off whenever you were on a call with them or ignored it when you were with them but secretly...you tried so hard to keep a poker face.
Even at work Hongjoong had caught you daydreaming, and he'd say "love looks good on you". If you were being honest... you've thought about it. How would it be feel to call him your one and only? To live with him? Sleep on the same bed with him....how would it feel if your feelings were reciprocated?
However deep down, anxiety rose in the pit of your stomach. The reality is not it...it's nothing like your imaginations and thoughts. He might not feel the same way at all. "might not?" A painful smile appeared on your face...he obviously doesn't. He had moved on, and you were still stuck in the past like a teenager in love. Sleepless at nights, thoughts of him lingering a little too longer in your mind, replaying moments with butterflies each time.
In a different home and setting...things were quite similar. He realised his feelings had not even decreased one per cent. He'd laugh at the fact how confident he felt when he came back from abroad, feeling 100 per cent sure his heart wouldn't pick up it's pace and your eyes wouldn't work their magic on him.
Oh boy, was he wrong?
The moment he saw you, his pupils enlarged and his jaw opened slightly to take on all your beauty. How can a person become even prettier as time passed by? The world suddenly started to seem bright with you. And it wasn't a foreign feeling at all, it was as though he'd come back home. You. Just like before, every love song was and still remains about you.
How...vile of his heart? To not let go someone who doesn't even wants him. He hated the idea of you with someone else, but he was ready to leave you as long as you were happy. But...he didn't realize it was going to be this difficult.
Basically these two idiots had no idea, both of them liked each other secretly. They were hopelessly in love with each other.
Days went by, your work routine stayed the same but you know what else changed? Your evenings. Your nights. God, all the while you just patiently waited for your job to end, in fact, some days Hongjoong would let you off the hook early.
Then you and Seonghwa would explore the town in his car. Laughing, enjoying, mocking each other, taking silly pictures. It felt like those days were back, and you weren't going to take them for granted anymore.
Just like that, a dinner happened. It was organised by Wooyoung, Hwa's rival and both of you were invited. It was actually shocking to see those two act so in love at the dinner, because Wooyoung wouldn't stop kissing Seonghwa, he was just so drunk but then Seonghwa cleared that he was like that even when he was sober.
A lot of things happened during the dinner but the real fun...was after that. You guys strolled in the parks, laughing. Even catching a young couple, sitting on the benches, experiencing love probably for the first time.
Maybe it was invasion of privacy but it was just so wholesome watching the guy on the right put his hand on the bench and the guy, shorter than the first one, on the left inch by inch hold his hand and both of them looked on opposite directions probably blushing so hard.
You turned to see Seonghwa, his body was hovering you but his gaze was fixated on the couple on the front. You guys were hiding behind a few bushes. God if he looked down at you, you really couldn't control yourself. He never looked down but...you knew he was aware of you lingering gaze on him. How you traced his face structure.
You went to the karaokes, the beach in fact, which was eerily empty and because you were a fool in love, you found it romantic. Or going to the teokkbokki stall that was now built into a restaurant, and surprisingly the owner recognised you.
"Did you go to xyz High school?" The old lady with curly hair asked and Seonghwa responded yes, with a smile. "Aigoo, no wonder I've seen you before! You used to come here after school hours right?"
"Woah you remember!" You said, amazed. "So you guys became a couple huh? Ooh, such a cute and romantic dynamic. It's always the childhood sweethearts." She said while poking her fingers at Seonghwa's shoulder who was too perplexed to even deny her. You bit back a smile, watching his cheeks glow red and his silly reactions. He hadn't changed one bit.
Then when you sat on the bench near Han river, to watch a firework show. You don't think you can hold onto the feelings you felt when you were with him. It was so fuzzy...and warm. Like home..as you always said.
This time Seonghwa spoke, while gazing at the star filled sky, his eyes were bright once again. You aren't sure what he said at the start... because you were mesmerized by his magical looks...and not just because of his face, you could see yourself kissing his soft lips, holding his face in your hands, hugging him....
"Every time we're together, I just feel so happy and fulfilled..." 'I just wish I was brave enough to say the words, but maybe you feel the same way?'
You heard him say....and a smile creeped up your lips as he looked at you. A moment later the fireworks started to explode and your attention was preoccupied by them..in various colours they piped in the dark sky. Like painting an empty canvas... that's exactly how Seonghwa made you feel.
"I love you..."
You whispered while enjoying the fireworks, knowing damn well your words were muffled due to the loud noise of those fireworks. And yet it felt so light....that you couldn't stop smiling. "Hey..." He called for you and when you looked at him, he was holding out two sparklers, that ngit you lit then and smiled like children.
'I wish I was brave enough to tell you how I truly felt...'
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"Hwa!" Your knuckles knock on the door of his hotel room. He wasn't living in his old house with parents but seperately, he said he wanted to buy an apartment just like you. Which amde you chuckle.
Today, you stood in front of his door because you were finally ready to confess after a contemplation of a week. Holding a bouquet, with a blush on your face. However, Seonghwa didn't seem to respond.
"..oh the door is unlocked?" Your hands wrap around the door knob and open it up, "..is he not home?" mumbling to yourself, you took in the view the room provided. The silence was really strange and uncomfortable. Because you could hear... something.
You turned around swiftly, in hopes for finding someone...but there was no one. A sound of something falling from the left greeted you, and your anxiety was growing...you didn't want to whisper for some reason. You just followed the voice, hoping that it was Seonghwa. It lead you to the bathroom.
A sigh left your lips once you saw Seonghwa, his body turned around...and half naked? Your cheeks were red....and when he moved just a little to the left..
It was another woman.
Your heart sank to your stomach...and your eyes dropped down. Your eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly twitched. Unconsciously, you clenched on to the bouquet, not realising it had thorns, which pricked one of your fingers.
A tears drop fell and mixed with the blood from your lips because you were biting on it too hard. With a sigh, you stormed away, but on your way you slammed the door. Throwing the bouquet somewhere in the hallway, the blood had trickled down till your wrists, while your lips won't stop bleeding and your tears....they were the same.
Fuck you didn't even have a car to escape as fast you wanted to.
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
.....why?
Your feet took you somewhere you knew you'd feel better, if not...you won't feel terrible like you just did a few seconds ago. Your mind kept replaying the scene like a broken casette. Once you reached the garden...you plopped on the ground and hugged your knees.
Clicking your tongue, you bow your head.."it doesn't feel that bad..."
So you said....still crying as if you had been betrayed. You felt like your world was falling apart in front of your eyes.
Everything seemed to melt away, and the ground beneath your feet was turning to dust. Your chest felt like it was caving in on you, and could feel your heart breaking in your throat.
You knew this would happen, that some day he would meet someone else, but to see it right in front of you... to see the two of them together... You just... don't know what to do with yourself anymore.
"So...I never really knew you.." you cried with your breaking voice. Maybe... you took all this for granted again...
Two weeks had passed by.
And you and Seonghwa hadn't talked since then.
Remembering your conversation with Hongjoong was just absolutely painful at this point.
"So...do you like him then?"
"I don't want to."
"But..you do?"
"I do."
Then proceeding to cry out a river. It was all so funny to you. You were the one who rejected him first anyway.
...
Did you?
Oh fuck it who even cares if I didn't or not...i never had the courage to tell him how i felt. I was so afraid..a fucking coward!
"Y/n!"
You turned around to see the same man, you wanted to avoid. Because you knew if right now you saw him...you'd break.
"Where have you been?" He came running towards you in his dress shirt, his tie loosened up, a few buttons opened. His hair still styled up, looked like he had just gotten off from his office.
He had grown up.
He came in front of you and painted while his hands were on his knees. "Wooyoung said he wanted to meet you again and it-"
"Let's stop acting like this Seonghwa." Your stern voice caught him off guard and he looked at you with a concerned look. "What?...but you agreed.."
"I did...and honestly, I'm sorry i did. I was an idiot." Your throat felt so hoarse and tight, eyes were glazed over, staring at the person in front of you.
You were trying so hard to stay calm and collected, but the tears were welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.
"No, no, no" you whispered to yourself, you can't break down like a child again. It was all for the best...right?"
"Did...did something happen?" His hand extended to stop you, to hold you, to embrace you...instead you took a step back, "You...have so many people that you have to meet. So many things that you have to do...I think it's best to spend them.. without me. Oh and.."
Your hand shuffle through your bag and take out a bracelet with a star charm, you remember you used to have an identical one but with an infinity charm, "here...keep this."
Seonghwa took the item in his hand, thoroughly observing it, "you...found this?"
"Mhm...I kept it when you untied it and there it in the middle of the ground." Seonghwa looked absolutely distraught. This was no what he had expected when he came back from the office, "don't keep sanitizers in your car." As though you were trying to make him realise what he had done wrong, you bitterly smiled but looked at him for the last time, "it'll remind you of us."
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hongjoongscafe · 2 years
Note
Hellooo 🖤
This might be a bit lengthy so I apologize, but..I’d love to request something, and only if you’re into the idea! So please don’t feel obliged, I just have fairly specific visual hc’s 🖤
Poly relationship. Plus size girlfriend/fiancé (Female) reader x Matz.
Everyone’s kinda switchy..but essentially; Joong and Hwa are absolute raunchily obsessed with their woman. And her with them.
I get this beautifully stimulating mental image of just straight up filthy delicious dynamic between the three of them. Night before, or night of, Halloween. They live together…the house is decorated…maybe there’s some good filthy music on idk lmao…like think Halloween party atmosphere but it’s just the three of them…If you wanna have costumes involved, please feel free 😌🖤
Basically, boys absolutely spoiling reader, relish in pleasing her, immense body worship, in love with her figure but not fetishizing, breast play, she’s heavy on maternal energy and presence but there doesn’t necessarily have to be mommy kink, her men are just slack jaw obsessed with her and one another. She doesn’t have to necessarily be a pillow princess either lol but they definitely don’t want her doing much hard work 🖤 However you’d want to have Matz act toward one another is absolutely up to you 🖤
Ok this was a whole novel in one message I’m so sorry lmao I just wanted to be specific so it wasn’t too confusing..Thank you…You’re darling, I appreciate you. If you’re not interested, I won’t internalize it one bit and hope your weekend is absolutely wonderful 🖤
-🎃
I hope you enjoy this💓
Bitch hours
Halloween
pairing: seonghwaxreaderxhongjoong
Warning: boob job, pussy eating, raw penetration, cumming inside, cumming over boobs, cum eating. …
There was a party at your home. A Halloween party. You and your two boyfriends, Hongjoong and Seonghwa, were completely dressed for the night. A sexy policewoman and two thieves.  
But the sudden storm warning made everyone stay in their own places. None of you was complaining. 
Why?
Because you looked too hot for anyone else to look at you. They were obsessed with you and your body. And at the moment, your boobs were spilling out of your skimpy top. Your thighs looked inviting for them to kiss and worship them. 
In no time, the lights were dimmed, and scented candles were lit. Alexa was given the command to play your late-night sex playlist. It started with you being in between your thieves. Seonghwa's hand was fondling your boobs and Hongjoong's hand was working on your clothed pussy.
“Already so wet? You are dripping through your clothes. See,” he brought his hand closer to your face. His digits were shining with your slick. 
“She can't keep it in when her boys are looking like this,” Seonghwa deeply chuckled and wrapped his lips around Hongjoong's fingers and licked them clean. “So sweet.”
“Make me cum, baby,” you moaned when Hongjoong licked your lips and kissed your open mouth. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth clashing. Your and his chin were already covered with spit. “Fuck.”
Seonghwa got on his knees and quickly removed your tiny little shorts and ripped your panties off. He buried his nose in your cunt, sniffing it up. “Could you be any more perfect?” 
“You are so pretty,” Hongjoong opened your top and captured your nipple in his mouth. He swirled his tongue and nibbled on it. His hand squeezed your other boob and pinched the soft pebble. 
Seonghwa was eating you out like no end. His face was fully buried in your fat cunt, your big thighs wrapped around his head just the way he loves it. His tongue was deep into your cunt, his nose rubbing tightly against your clit. He could feel the throbbing. 
His cock was straining against his clothes and the bed. He was grinding like a bitch in heat. 
Hongjoong pulled away, “could I fuck your titties?”
“Mmm, yeah,” you hissed. He quickly got rid of his pants and climbed over your chest. Taking out the lube that they keep in the coffee table drawer. Just because…
Yeah.
He squirted a good amount of it over your chest and rubbed it around with his dick. You pushed your tits together to wrap around him. He moaned at the warm feeling. “Push them harder for me.”
“Oh my God,” you gasped when you felt Seonghwa’s big, fat cock pushing into your dripping cunt slowly. His cock stretched your tight hole just right. “Love how your cunt is always tight even tho we fuck you all the time,” he hissed as he pushed all the way in, his balls hitting your ass. 
“That's why we love that pussy, Hwa,” Hongjoong shakily said as he started thrusting between your boobs. 
“Shut up and fuck me good,” you moaned. 
“Your wish is our command, lady,” Seonghwa pulled out until his cock head was inside and plunged back in harshly and faster. Your whole body jiggled. He held your hips and thrusted hard and good. 
Hongjoong's pretty angry red cock head was peeking out whenever he pushed. “Hnngh,” your mouth fell open. “So good.”
“You look so pretty,” Hongjoong made eye contact with you. His eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure. He loved how your tits were sucking his length. He could never get enough of your body or you in general. He loved you. “I love you so fucking much,” he moaned.
“I love you, y/n,” Seonghwa grunted. His face was red from stimulation. He loved how your fat cunt swallowed his cock in. Your slick making his dick shiny. “Baby, you are hot as fuck!” his eyes rolled back when you clenched around his cock. 
Hongjoong's dick twitched, closer to his climax already. His thrusts got faster and more sloppy. 
“I think I'm gonna cum,” he hissed.
“Cum all over me, baby,” you pushed your chest tighter. “Paint my boobs with your cum, Mark me up.”
“Gonna cum for you,” he cried. He started cumming over you, thick ropes of cum painting your chest and landing on your face. He kept on thrusting until his balls were empty. He removed himself from over you and captured your lips in a nasty kiss, tasting himself from your lips. 
Seonghwa’s balls tightened seeing the lewd scene of Hongjoong sucking the shit out of your mouth. His hands went down to your swollen clit and rubbed it furiously. He could feel you suffocating his cock. “So fucking hot. Someday, wanna record it all,” he grunted.
“Cum inside me, Hwa!” You moaned into Hongjoong’s mouth. The knot in your stomach tightened, on the edge of exploding.
“Fuckkk,” his eyes rolled back as his cock spurted thick cum into your hole. His cock was overstimulated and felt you cumming over his cock. Your thighs wrapped around him as you came. “You feel so good,” he rasped. “My cock feels so numb but so good.”
“Baby, you both are so good at fucking me,” you breathlessly said. Seonghwa pulled out slowly. The stream of his cum poured out. He felt his cock weakly twitch, seeing it flowing through your cunt to your asshole. 
“Gotta clean out queen,” Seonghwa bit his lip.
“Right..” Hongjoong agreed and both dipped their faces in your body to lick you clean.
…..
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yyeonmi · 19 days
Text
🌷Hwayeon Miran🌷
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Full name: Hwayeon Na Miran
Hangul Name: 미란 나 화연 
Name Meaning: 
• Hwa (화) can mean "flower" or "prosperity," but also "fire" or "disaster."
• Yeon (연) can mean "graceful" or "beautiful," but it can also mean "flame" or "fire."
Mi-ran (미란)
• Mi (미) means "beauty" or "charm," but it can also suggest "deception" or "illusion."
• Ran (란) means "orchid," a symbol of elegance, but it can also imply "chaos" or "turmoil."
Occupation:  Honorary World Serpent, Rose Sword Hotel staff
Species: Gumiho
Age: 19
Birthday: March 8th
Height: 6’3
Ability: Goddess’s Grace (여신의 은총)
Ability Overview:
Hwayeon's ability, "Goddess’s Grace," grants her the powers of a gumiho, allowing her to create powerful illusions, rapidly heal, shapeshift into a gumiho or partially transform, and enhance her combat abilities. The ability has multiple layers, each tapping into different aspects of her gumiho nature.
Ability Breakdown:
1. Illusion Manipulation:
   Hwayeon can create complex and highly convincing illusions that affect all the senses. These illusions can range from simple visual distortions to elaborate, multi-sensory environments. She can use these illusions to confuse enemies, create distractions, or conceal her true movements.
   * The illusions are particularly potent during the night or in dimly lit areas, where the line between reality and fantasy blurs. She can also embed subtle, subconscious suggestions within her illusions, influencing the thoughts and actions of those ensnared by them.
2. Rapid Healing:
   * Hwayeon possesses the ability to rapidly regenerate from injuries, drawing on the mythical vitality of the gumiho. Minor wounds close almost instantly, while more severe injuries heal within minutes. This makes her incredibly difficult to defeat in prolonged battles.
   * Additionally, she can extend a portion of this healing ability to others, though doing so requires concentration and temporarily reduces her own regenerative speed.
3. Shapeshifting and Partial Transformation:
   * Hwayeon can fully transform into her gumiho form—a majestic, nine-tailed fox—gaining immense physical strength, agility, and heightened senses. In this form, she becomes a fearsome combatant, capable of overwhelming opponents with raw power and speed.
   * Alternatively, she can partially transform, summoning specific aspects of her gumiho nature, such as growing claws, enhancing her agility, or manifesting her fox tails. This allows her to tailor her abilities to different combat situations, blending human cunning with supernatural power.
4. Enhanced Combat Abilities:
   * Even in her human form, Hwayeon’s combat prowess is significantly enhanced by her gumiho nature. She moves with supernatural speed, precision, and agility, making her a formidable opponent in close combat.
   * Her foxfire—a form of ethereal, blue flame—can be summoned to her hands or tails, serving as a weapon to burn and disorient her enemies. These flames are not ordinary fire; they can bypass conventional defenses, inflicting damage directly to the spirit or mind of the target.
5. Gumiho's Curse:
   * As a double-edged sword, Hwayeon’s gumiho nature comes with a latent curse. If she overuses her ability, particularly the illusion and healing aspects, she risks temporarily losing control and fully transforming into her gumiho form, where she becomes more primal and less rational, driven by instinct rather than reason. In this state, distinguishing friend from foe becomes challenging, making her as dangerous to her allies as she is to her enemies.
Special Techniques:
1. "Moonlit Illusion" (월광 환상):
   * Hwayeon creates an elaborate illusion under the moonlight, trapping her enemies in a dream-like landscape where time and space are distorted. In this illusion, she controls every aspect, from the terrain to the perceptions of those trapped within it, making it nearly impossible to escape without her consent.
2. "Foxfire Dance" (여우불 무희):
   * Hwayeon partially transforms, summoning her fox tails wreathed in blue flames. She uses these tails to lash out at enemies, the foxfire burning both physical and spiritual targets. The dance is a mesmerizing combination of grace and lethal force, leaving her enemies entranced and vulnerable.
3. "Spirit's Embrace" (영혼의 포옹):
   * In dire situations, Hwayeon can use her gumiho power to heal a gravely injured ally by transferring some of her own life force to them. This technique, while potent, leaves her temporarily weakened, but can be the difference between life and death in critical moments.
Backstory: 
HERE!
ONESHOTS AND OTHERS
Hwayeon and Arashi Drabble How to Summon Half a Population of Cats, by Miran Hwayeon A Day of Relaxation
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