Muses and Daydreams

PANEL 2 — CLOSE ON YOU

You’re standing dead center, holding a coffee. You stare directly at the narration box with the expression of someone who's been dealing with this for far too long.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn it.

The narration box flickers.

NARRATION: ...and the villainess plots her next—

“NOPE,” you snap, grabbing the box mid‑air like it’s a misbehaving balloon. “We talked about this. No villain monologues before 9 a.m.” You fold the narration box until it is the approximate dimensions of a post-it note and shove it into your pocket.

The rest of the campus, meanwhile, bustles around you like nothing happened. Like it never happens. Like there isn't a floating narration box following you from birth and plotting your eventual fall from grace. You really should start looking into those therapy services offered by the mental health office. You know they can't help you with "being narrated since birth" but it's probably the next best thing, right?

Anyway, it's spring and, frankly, you're very tired.

You, Y/N, are the notorious campus queen: the stunning daughter of an affluent political family and the presumed villainous antagonistic force in Kim Mingyu's, your childhood friend, star-crossed love story. For three volumes and counting, you, Mingyu and Lee Ara have fallen into a rhythmic dance of misunderstandings, relationship dramas, and flashy battles all leading to one, inevitable conclusion: Mingyu and Ara will fall in love and live happily ever after.

Or that's how it's supposed to work.

Except none of that happens in the shadows, the white spaces that the Writer's pen never quite fills in. Those are the places where characters come to life in ways even the omnipotent Writer can't see coming. Like when Mingyu saved you from a car last spring. Or that night you snuck into the school pool together and splashed around instead of studying. When it was just the two of you, when no one could see, no one was writing. When everything seemed perfectly scripted without a script.

In those moments, when the narration box couldn't reach you, nothing else seemed quite as important as his smile.

Until the next scene began, that was.

You don't remember when you and Mingyu became aware of the fact that none of this was real. You always thought that you were losing your memory, wondering how you ended up at home when you were just in class seconds ago, how so much time seemed to pass without your realizing it. It didn't click until you were aimlessly roaming the school halls one afternoon and noticed the air fluttering unnaturally around you, things moving floating out of place in the corner of your vision and an unsettling feeling of something. A presence? A monster? A force beyond your knowing and naming trying to reach out to you.

When you talked to people, they'd be confused or dismissive, thinking you're joking. And when you'd ask them again some time later, they wouldn't know what you meant and keep repeating the same responses over and over, no matter how many times you would try and ask, hoping it'd finally ilicit a different response.

Finally, you tried talking to Mingyu about what was happening to you, only to find Mingyu was feeling exactly the same way. That things were happening without his express conscious will, and he felt the presence of something vaguely sinister outside of his direct sphere.

That's when you both realized the absurd, nonsensical reality that you're living in a webtoon, in a narrative world crafted by someone who felt very little need or concern for either of your agency. That something, a presence beyond human knowledge and imagination, was dictating and guiding you along towards an end goal: an inevitable romance between Kim Mingyu, the male lead, and Lee Ara, the female lead, and you're left to be the evil side character who had to be defeated for Mingyu and Ara to obtain their Happy Ever After.

Which sucks ass because you really like Mingyu. Maybe even a little too much. And you know, deep down, that the feeling is mutual. The Writer might make you do whatever she wants to further the plot, like flirt with Mingyu against your will during scripted love tropes. But whenever the writer isn't actively intervening, you get to be just you and Mingyu, and not the fictional, plot-dictated versions of you two that are forced together by the writer. You wonder sometimes, if it wasn't for this damned world, if you'd be happily dating each other.

You feel the narration box wriggling in your pocket, desperate to escape and comment. To announce loudly, obviously that you'll do whatever you can to disrupt Kim Mingyu and Lee Ara from meeting, but ultimately end up helping the course of fate along because the Writer makes it so. Because the narrative demands a twist at the very last second, and Kim Mingyu can't end up with you.

With a sigh, you take the now much smaller narration box out and unfold it, letting its words be absorbed back into reality:

NARRATION: ...and the villainess plots her next loser plan to keep our golden boy and pure maiden away from each other.

"I fucking hate you," you mutter under your breath.

Just then, a slim figure rounds the corner: Lee Ara in all of her oblivious perfection, wearing a fluffy dress that no college student would survive in, looking very much like she is running towards you.

PANEL 3 — BUST SHOT: YOU, GLOWERING.

Your lips curl up into your default, scheming smile. You really wish it didn't feel so natural.

PANEL 4 — EXTREME CLOSE UP ON LEE ARA.

Her hair blows dramatically out of the way as she stares determinedly ahead like this isn't a typical, daily interaction for the two of you. You can't tell if it's supposed to look brave or goofy, but it sure isn't intimidating.

"Ara, you look absolutely stunning today," you feel your eye twitch as the words leave your mouth, words you didn't choose, didn't want to say, words that materialized on your tongue like someone else is operating your vocal cords.

Which, technically, someone was.

Ara blinks up at you with those impossibly wide doe eyes. "Oh! Um, thank you? That's... really nice of you to say."

No, it fucking isn't, you thought viciously, even as your face arranges itself into what you know is a calculated, mean-girl smirk.

"I just wanted to say," your mouth continues without your permission, and you feel the familiar horror of a scripted scene taking over, "that dress is so brave. Not everyone could pull off that... particular shade of yellow."

There it is. The backhanded compliment. Right on schedule.

Ara's face falls slightly, and you want to scream. You helped her pick out that dress last week during your actual, off-page friendship that the Writer conveniently ignores. You told her the sunshine yellow made her look like bottled happiness.

"Oh," Ara says softly. "I... thank you?"

"If you like looking like you're blocking traffic, then feel free to keep wearing it," you snort and then the scene releases you like a puppet with cut strings, and you immediately grab Ara's arm. "Wait, that came out wrong—"

PANEL 5 — ARA TURNS.

She's already walking away, and you know why. The Writer has got what they wanted: another moment of you being terrible to the heroine. Another panel of the villainess doing villainess things.

You stand there in the middle of the quad, students flowing around you like water around a stone, and contemplate the very real possibility of screaming until your throat bleeds.

"Rough scene?"

You don't have to turn around to know who it is. You recognize that voice anywhere. It's the voice that makes your stomach do complicated acrobatic routines, the one that belongs to your best friend since childhood, the one that's supposed to fall in love with Ara and definitely not with you.

"Mingyu," you say, turning to face him. "I just told Ara her dress makes her look like a jaundiced traffic cone. How do you think it went?"

Mingyu winces, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. He's wearing his usual off-scene outfit: an oversized hoodie that's seen better days, glasses slightly askew, hair unstyled and falling into his eyes. He looks nothing like the chiseled, perfectly-coiffed golden boy who appeared in the actual comic panels.

"Ouch," he says. "Did you at least get to apologize before the scene ended?"

"Tried. She walked away. The Writer probably needed her to be sad for the next panel where you comfort her and she realizes she has feelings for you for the millionth time," you make a gagging noise. "I hate this. I hate all of this."

"I know," Mingyu falls into step beside you as you start walking toward your next class. "I had a scene this morning where I had to flex at the gym for fifteen minutes while Ara watched from the doorway. Fifteen minutes, Y/N. Do you know how long fifteen minutes of flexing is?"

Despite everything, you snort. "Did you at least get a good pump?"

"I got a cramp in my left bicep and the overwhelming desire to go home and read my economics textbook," he pauses. "Which I did, by the way. Chapter twelve is fascinating. Did you know that—"

"Mingyu, I love you, but if you start explaining supply and demand curves right now, I will push you into that trash can."

The words hung in the air for a moment. I love you. You said it all the time, had said it for years, best friends who'd grown up together and know each other's every secret.

But lately, the words felt heavier.

Mingyu's ears turned red, they always did when you said it, even casually, and he clears his throat. "Right. No economics. Got it."

You reach your classroom and stop, turning to face him fully. He's tall, he'd always been tall, but he hunches slightly, like he's trying to take up less space. It's such a contrast to his on-page persona, where he stands with the confidence of someone who'd never doubted himself a day in his life.

"Same time tonight?" you ask. "My place? We can finish studying for that chem mid."

His face splits into a grin, a wide, boyish one that makes his glasses slide down to the tip of his nose. "Definitely," he agrees. "Maybe without the interruption this time."

PANEL 6 — ARA WALKING TOWARDS MINGYU

"And here I go," you mutter, "back to fading into the background so these two can have their meet-cute."

"I'm really sorry," Mingyu says again, "and I know that doesn't mean anything. I hope I can—"

NARRATION: ...Kim Mingyu notices his true love standing alone in the corner, a beautiful flower ready to bloom into...

"You changed into your jock gear," you note, sounding unimpressed, as Mingyu looks down and realizes that yes, he's wearing the clothes his character usually wears to work out instead of the sweater he wore before.

"Fuck," he sighs, "Here I go, I guess."

"You want me to text you after?" you ask him.

He nods, giving you a strained smile, and says, "Please."

PANEL 7 — SLOW ZOOM-IN ON ARA'S FLAWLESS SKIN AS SHE LOOKS UP AND ATTENDS MINGYU'S DAZZLING SMILE, HEARTS POPPING AROUND HER AS WE DRAMATICALLY FOCUS IN ON MINGYU.

"Ara! Just the girl I wanted to see."

You let out a long sigh, before turning away from the pair. Your story might be stuck in this linear route, but you really don't have to stick around and watch the love of your life play his part in this tale.

PANEL 8 — Y/N WALKS AWAY, SHOULDERS HUNCHED, BACKGROUND BLURRING INTO SOFT PASTELS AS THE ROMANTIC SCENE CONTINUES BEHIND HER

Each step away feels like wading through honey. You can hear Ara's delighted laugh behind you, that genuine, sweet sound that makes you hate yourself for being scripted to hurt her. You can hear Mingyu's voice doing that thing: that confident, flirty thing that isn't him at all.

The real Mingyu stutters when he's nervous. The real Mingyu talks about economic theory at 2AM and falls asleep with his glasses on.

But the Writer doesn't care about the real Mingyu.

PANEL 9 — CLOSE-UP ON Y/N'S FACE, EXPRESSION CAREFULLY NEUTRAL, BUT EYES BETRAYING PAIN

NARRATION: Meanwhile, the villainess retreats to lick her wounds, knowing she can never compete with—

"Oh, fuck off," you snap, reaching up to grab the narration box again. It's vibrating indignantly, trying to narrate your heartbreak into something convenient for the plot.

You squeeze it harder.

"You don't get to narrate this. This part is mine."

So that’s what the last decade has been, pretending as if everything is okay. It’s even worse now. One of his best friends got married to your younger sister a couple of years back and it was even more impossible to ignore your name. He sees you often, sometimes with a boyfriend who never lasts very long.

"It's been like what, ten years, and you still can't get over her?" Dongwoo says, taking a gulp of beer.

"Shut up, will you?" Myungsoo groans.

"If you had stopped her from going on that plane, you'd already be married and have mini-Myungsoos and Y/Ns running around," Sungyeol smirks. Myungsoo could punch him right now.

"And how is things with your current girlfriend? The model, right? How's that going?" Myungsoo questions, in a childish voice.

"Jinkyung loves me, thank you very much." Sungyeol retorts.

"Okay guys, please, let's not argue," Dongwoo interferes, his voice pleading. "Y/N will be there no matter what. Eunha insisted that her sister be there."

Myungsoo still can't believe that Dongwoo got with Y/N's younger sister. They had never even interacted that much, not even at any parties or friendly gatherings. However, Dongwoo has always been a charismatic kind of guy. Everyone liked him, and when Eunha came into the picture, it was almost impossible to avoid it. You and Myungsoo couldn't avoid each other, no matter how hard you tried . You both just mastered the art of being "normal" in one another's presence.

He knew you were seeing other people, sometimes for just a few months, other times it seemed longer. He tried too, but no matter how many dates he went on or how much time he invested, he couldn't truly commit, They just weren't you.

"I'm heading out," Dongwoo waves, shouting to the male occupants in Myungsoo's apartment. "Eunha wants me home so that we can get packing."

"Yeah, yeah," Myungsoo waves, noticing that Sungyeol is grabbing his jacket and keys to leave as well. "See you guys in the morning."

Dongwoo leaves first, followed shortly after by Sungyeol who shouts that he'll call Jinkyung and convince her to come along. Sighing, Myungsoo lies across the couch, arms under his head, eyes glued to the ceiling.

Another get together with the guys and their girlfriends. Okay, he could handle it. He did it plenty of times over the years and survived. It sucks when he's the only single person, well apart from you, but hey, at least you're someone he can comfortable be around. Just a trip with friends, he could do this.

Right?

You drop your weekend bag when Sunggyu tells you that you'll be riding with Myungsoo since everyone else's cars are packed to the brim.

"Seriously, I can ride with Dongwoo and Eunha," you mumble as you hand your bags to Myungsoo, who wordlessly packs it along with his own things in his car.

Your sister elbows you softly before leaning in to whisper, "Stop that and act normal. You've been friends for all this time and now all of a sudden you don't want to be alone with him?"

Eunha knows how you feel towards your college flame. She was the only one you could turn to when things ended abruptly and without closure. It hurt, not knowing if the love you had shared was really real, or just a fleeting thing between two college students. You had both wanted different things and in the end it ended badly, not that you were expecting anything different. In those kind of relationships, that's what it was bound to be.

When you came back home from your overseas trip, she could see that something had changed, you were different, somehow, even if you were only gone for a a few years. It took weeks and lot of alcohol to confess about what happened with you and Myungsoo, how you both got into an argument on the drive to the airport, how you yelled at him that he wasn't supportive of your dream to study overseas and to travel, how he was holding you back and you were suffocating from being around him. Then, it just snowballed downwards from there and things that shouldn't have been said were thrown back and forth, and the next thing you knew, you were staring at your reflection in the plane window, trying not to breakdown while the plane taxied onto the runway.

You knew it was your fault. You should have never yelled at him in the first place, or accused him of not wanting the best for you. He loved you, after all, why would he try to stop you from doing what you had always dreamed of? Myungsoo had dreams too, and sometimes you felt selfish wanting him to choose you over it, but it still didn't change the fact that it was your dream.

When you asked him if he was going to choose you and come with you, you didn't expect the answer you heard. He didn't think about choosing, he couldn't put himself and his dreams before his family's, that's what it seemed like at least. They needed him back home, in that small town where they couldn't afford to have one less set of working hands, and it hurt so badly when he had told you. It wasn't that he wasn't supportive, it was more that he felt responsible for his family and their financial well-being. You were so wrapped up in yourself that it seemed like your own world.

Did you hate Myungsoo, after that happened? Maybe a little bit, at the beginning, but eventually, after time had past, you missed him and wished that things had been different.

You learned over time that life moved on and things happened for a reason, or for the worst. What happened with him made you stronger, or so you liked to tell yourself. You graduated school and went traveling as planned. You came back to Korea a few years later, landing a decent job at an upscale marketing firm where you stayed to this day. You learned that Myungsoo was working at a design firm in a separate part of the city, and you were happy that he was able to achieve something he loved. From what your younger sister had shared with you, he was doing well for himself and had finally bought a nice apartment. You both learned to co-exist around the others, remaining cordial and friendly, no signs of anger or tension around you or him.

Well, you aren’t cordial at this exact moment as your fingers grip the bag resting on your lap. Myungsoo stays relatively quiet throughout the first hour or so, save the few grunts and slight teasing comments. You sigh heavily, crossing your legs and arms.

"Seriously Myungsoo, can't we listen to the radio for something? This silence is kind of deafening," you whine. "Also, not sure if you remembered or not, but I'm a little prone to carsickness, so I need to stay entertained."

The raven-haired male side glances towards you before fixing his vision on the empty road in front of him. It would be another three hours until you got to the cabin and there was hardly any traffic, perfect weather to head there early. "Fine," he agrees quietly, switching the radio on. You sit for a little while, occasionally humming along with whatever song that played.

"Are you even into any idol groups nowadays or even into this sort of music?"

He lets out an exasperated laugh. "Excuse you, I keep myself updated. Actually, a friend of mine sings."

"Wow, never thought you to be the type," you mutter, stifling a laugh.

"Ha ha, so funny."

You feel anxious sitting together in the same vehicle with the person you had been avoiding for nearly a decade now. Not much has changed really, he still had those model like features, but they had matured into something sharper. The once lithe, slim frame had filled out quite a bit.

"What?" his voice fills the silence.

"Huh?"

"You were staring," Myungsoo glances sideways, giving you an awkward look, wondering why you were staring at him for so long.

"I wasn't!" You say, brushing the accusation off quickly, looking out the passenger side window. You can tell he doesn't believe you, but there’s no further comment. You hum along with the tune playing on the radio to help distract from the strange atmosphere surrounding the two of you, wishing you were already at the cabin with everyone else instead of trapped alone with Myungsoo in this car.

"Why are you nervous?" He asks, and the question comes out quiet, a little hesitant. His voice is softer than it has been the whole car trip. You swallow, turning to face the view out the windshield. It’s suddenly become difficult to put together a simple sentence.

"Me... nervous?" You swallow again, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed in your throat. "You seem a bit nervous though?"

Myungsoo does indeed seem a little fidgety, and it does seem a bit strange. "Am I?"

"Yes, you are," you nod your head. "Unless my intuition has finally lost it's touch and is just sending me false signals..."

"It's not false," Myungsoo agrees with a light laugh, as if trying to get rid of the extra tension between you. "Let's say it's real. Why would I be nervous?"

"I have no idea, but since when did Kim Myungsoo show his emotions like this? He used to keep everything bottled inside."

"You seem to know me rather well then."

"Was that a challenge?" You shoot him a challenging look.

"I know you rather well too." He flashes you a smirk. It's such an expression, one that is usually saved to throw a girl, or anyone really, off. And it works rather well.

"Okay, that is actually pretty true," you admit, trying to stay in control of your body. Control? You wanted to snort, there is no way for that when you had your first crush, on someone like Kim Myungsoo. It didn't help at all to add the fact that the man was hot, way too handsome for his own good. Even more so than his college self. "Anyways... how's life been, I know from Eunha it's been quite eventful." You struggle to think of something, anything to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Same-old, work has been good. Well... everything has been good." A small smile dances on his lips. "How about you?"

"It's been great. Work is good," you smile, placing your right leg on top of the left, playing with a loose thread on your jacket.

"Still... single?" The word rolls off his tongue easily as he watches your body language change a little, but it’s almost unnoticeable.

"Unfortunately," you laugh, hiding the growing pit in your stomach. "You? Seeing anyone? Last I heard, you and Haesol were on and off for quite awhile." You honestly tried to stay away from that part of news regarding him, but some things couldn't be avoided, especially when friends who shared similar mutuals knew of this information and wanted to gossip about their close friends with each other.

Myungsoo looks uneasy, probably because he doesn't enjoy the topic of past flings, but it was going to pop up sooner or later, why delay it any further? "I wouldn't call it 'seeing someone'..." he mumbles quietly, glancing from the road and back towards the empty road.

"So, fuck buddy? One-night stand? Whatever floats your boat," you answer back casually, shrugging. The reaction you were expecting was him gasping, spluttering, or choking on the air as the words flowed out, however, it was not the response. Instead, you watch his gaze return onto you, and a smirk decorates his otherwise expressionless face, eyes twinkling with mischievousness.

"Jealous?"

"Hell no."

You both stare, for who knows how long, until finally, Myungsoo clears his throat and faces the open road ahead. You wished you could say you were a hundred percent lying about the whole ordeal, but damn it, he caught onto the tinge of jealousy laced in that quick reply. "Haesol and I weren't really that compatible." he continues, ignoring the small jibe. "So we split up. It was no big deal."

You nod silently, relieved that the current conversation was shifting to a safer direction. For the remainder of the drive, there’s nothing but small-talk and a few random things said. Finally, Myungsoo turns onto a gravel and dirt road that leads towards the cabin. From the back, you could see a handful of vehicles parked, and a few figures gathered by the large deck outside.

"Here we go," he comments, coming to a stop, placing the car in park.

"Good luck," you reach over to pat him on the shoulder, "You're gonna need it when the girls roast you for being single."

He laughs, unlocking his door. "You're single too. Remember?"

"Fuck," you whisper, scrunching your face into an exaggerated grimace. He lets out a chuckle, hopping out of his car, going to retrieve both his and your bags. You give a weak smile, throwing a quick wave at the approaching couples that made it in first.

Sungyeol waves first, followed quickly after with the rest, then immediately stops and scrunches his face.

"What? No hug?" Sungyeol makes an exaggerated show of making himself bigger, spreading his arms out wide.

"Nope. Not doing this. No," you smile, shoving him aside, "you can hug Myungsoo."

"Is my love not enough for you anymore!?" Sungyeol fakes being offended, putting on a fake hurt expression.

Jinkyung, his girlfriend, scoffs. "Go hug that weirdo." She smacks him across the chest, shaking her head.

"That weirdo?" Myungsoo interrupts from behind, arching a brow. "Gee, thanks, love you too."

"Did anyone pack a can opener by any chance? Dongwoo and I wanted to cook something to pass the time," Eunha hollers from inside the cabin, followed by the sounds of rummaging through the kitchen cupboards.

Sunggyu and his wife, Jinhee, tell everyone to just relax and take it easy, no plans. The married couple had made it a yearly tradition have a cabin getaway with friends and they thought it would be the perfect time, seeing that both Woohyun and Sungyeol, being part owners of a restaurant chain, were in need of a little vacation.

"I packed one!" Hyoae, Sungjong's girlfriend, pipes up excitedly, putting her hand up like a student in elementary, searching her bag quickly. She produces a can opener and presents it to her boyfriend with the widest smile, grinning with pride.

"There! We should be able to manage," Sungjong returns Hyoae's smile, patting her on the head before handing it over to Dongwoo.

"Did we pack enough food?" Woohyun pipes up, noticing the duffel bag he was carrying is heavier than it was before. "Honey, what did you pack in here?" he looks at Jooyeon, his fiance.

"I kinda got carried away," she confesses, putting her face down, slightly embarrassed. Woohyun doesn't mind at all though, laughing at his over-enthusiastic partner, finding it rather cute actually.

You stand next to Myungsoo, the both of you looking at the lovesick couples before you, almost grossed out by how cute they could be. "Gross."

"Room assignments!" Sunggyu calls out, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Rooms will pair off as follows—”

Woohyun cocks an eyebrow. “We’re literally already paired off.”

Sunggyu glares at him. “LET ME HAVE THIS.” He clears his throat dramatically. “Woohyun and Jooyeon. Dongwoo and Eunha. Sungjong and Hyoae. Sungyeol and Jinkyung. And finally—”

"Myungsoo and Y/N!" Jinhee finishes for him, waving her hand around casually, as if she was mentioning the weather outside or something of no importance. Sunggyu pouts at his wife and she rolls her eyes. "Honey, you were taking forever."

You practically gape, giving both your heads of friends a surprised look, "Wait... what?! Seriously? You want us to sleep... in the same room as each other?!"

"I thought the cabin had 7 rooms?" Myungsoo tilts his head at Jinhee, brows crinkling together as if he was thinking about something.

Sunggyu quickly chimes in, "Oh right! About that, me and the missus stored furniture and junk in one of the rooms when we were renovating the cabin, we just haven't found the time to get the old things out so that's why there's no extra room this time.."

"This sucks..." Myungsoo voices your thoughts perfectly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'll just sleep in the living room then."

"Don't be an idiot," you smack his shoulder, giving him a deadpan look. "You'll freeze and probably catch a cold."

"But if I sleep with you..." he mumbles under his breath, more for him than anyone else, eyes diverting.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

You don't believe it for a minute but just let him be, pushing the matter aside.

"So now that's settled, let's just chill for a while," Sunggyu declares. The sun is still out, so a few people volunteer to make lunch. In the end, it’s Dongwoo, Eunha, Sungjong and Hyoae who make lunch with Hyoae also baking the cake for dessert.

"I brought a whole stash of board games, so pick whatever you want, and we'll set it all up later," Woohyun tosses the plastic bag of games to Sungyeol who digs around through the bag. "Did anyone bring extra alcohol? Truth or Drink would be a good game too."

Everyone gives a thumbs up, assuring they do indeed have their own stash, and with that, Woohyun clasps his hands together, nodding and deciding to lounge in the living room and catch up with everyone.

You find yourself zoning out during most conversations. You would have participated a lot more than usual had the idea of sharing a bed with a certain Kim Myungsoo not flashed through your mind constantly. Everyone knows that you and he had a past relationship, but honestly, it’s better to be stuck with him than someone you barely even know.

But your heart still feels weird, and you definitely can't concentrate fully. Maybe you should try and put distance between you and him? But that’s pointless. It’s just a harmless trip, friends going up for a short time away from civilization. So far, everyone seems normal, including Myungsoo, who’s engaging in an argument over something stupid. Yeah, just keep it together and it'll turn out okay. You mentally make up your mind and keep up a determined stare.

You’ll stick close to the girls for most of the trip and distance yourself from Myungsoo a little. You’ll remain friends, and there’s nothing else beyond that. You think that, but not even an hour later, you’re staring at Myungsoo's half-naked body while he frolicks with the guys in the creek behind the cabin.

"You're staring," Eunha's soft voice enters your ears.

"Huh?" You snap out of your haze, tearing your eyes from the raven-haired man, turning towards your younger sister. "No I wasn't."

"Girl," Jinkyung rolls her eyes, "even a blind person can tell you're still interested in him."

"I'm not interested!" You snap, before you catch your mistake and cover your mouth with one hand.

"Uh-huh," Jooyeon coos, rubbing her palm over yours, "If you're not gonna stare, I will."

"I'm telling Woohyun on you!" You retort.

She laughs, putting her free hands up. "Okay, okay!" she laughs, knowing you don't mean a word of the threat. "But there's nothing wrong with looking. I'm sure he worked hard for that bod being in the marines and whatnot during his enlistment service."

You find yourself stealing another glance towards where Myungsoo is. They are splashing water and pushing at each other, like a bunch of teenagers rather than grown adult men. But you find Myungsoo immediately, moving and pulling himself back up on the rocks, eyes immediately fixing on his abs. He was always muscular back in the day, but damn, Myungsoo is sporting a nice body that puts his younger self's to shame, especially with the light sheen of water droplets decorating his smooth skin.

"They look good, don't they? All wet and strong," Hyoae smiles, adding fuel to the fire, making a point of waving her finger over the six wet males. You watch as Hyoae wiggles a finger at Sungjong and laughs lightly. "My Jongie," she coos, beckoning him, and she runs straight into his arms as Sungjong holds his out and embraces his lover tightly in his wet body. You sigh to yourself, wishing you were the lucky one.

"You've been sighing a lot today. If we could translate those sighs..." Jinkyung puts a finger to her temple, "I would say something like... I really want a boyfriend, and for that boyfriend to be my hot, wet, naked crush out there, holding my body close. Oh the things I would do-"

You slap a hand to Jinkyung's mouth and narrow your eyes dangerously. "If you so much as speak another word, I will smack you."

"Oops..." Jinkyung places her hands up, but then grins wickedly. "But really though. What was Myungsoo like? Like in... bed and stuff, did he give-"

"No!" You slap a hand to your own mouth as the other girls dissolve into laughter.

"Tell me you at least got laid good when you two dated," Jinhee retorts.

"I am not going to talk about my sex life with you all," you groan and rub your face.

The ladies laugh in chorus, enjoying each other's company, unaware that the six soaked men have already exited the waters and are standing only a few feet away.

The others approach first, in various states of being dried off and Sunggyu waves, gaining the girls' attention. He wraps Jinhee in his arms, smacking a kiss on her cheek. "Oh! Ohohoho, here comes the wet, naked and hot, as promised."

"Gross," you feign a look of disgust, looking away only to catch Myungsoo standing directly in front of you, his six pack abs glistening with beads of water. You bite your lower lips, feeling your face heat up for staring way too long. "I'm going in," you quickly utter and rush inside the cabin before he can say a word.

The cabin door slams behind you, the sound echoing louder than it should. Your pulse is still racing from the sight of him — water‑slick skin, the curve of his waist, the way he looked at you like he knew. You lean against the counter, trying to breathe.

You hear the front door open behind you — heavy footsteps, the soft thud of someone drying their hair with a towel. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is. His presence hits you like heat.

“Myungsoo, don’t,” you mutter, staring straight ahead.

The footsteps slow, stop behind you. The sound of him breathing is so, so quiet. He's so quiet.

Suddenly, you turn, and you're shocked to see him within reaching distance. If either of you take one step closer, the tips of your toes will touch, your chest will graze his. You lift your gaze up, catching his dark eyes with your own. The silence stretches out before either of you can dare to speak.

"Why not?" His tone is smooth and low. The air feels charged, and you inhale deeply, licking your suddenly dry lips. It feels wrong, seeing him so exposed, almost vulnerable. He continues his torture. "What's holding you back?"

It seems wrong, talking to him so seriously while his skin is mostly bare for your viewing pleasure. He shouldn't have those muscles, not the firmness around his middle, not the ridges that disappear under his pants. And those thick arms, the shoulders that look like they could hold up the entire universe, hold it all together, shouldn't be so... kissable.

Your throat goes dry, your cheeks burn, and all you can imagine doing is pressing your palms up the sides of his stomach, kissing him like he wants. You don't even hear the thunder roaring or feel the cabin trembling because everything seems so small and insignificant now.

"Go put on a damn shirt," you snap, shoving past him to walk briskly to the bedrooms.

"Were you staring?" He calls, laughter dancing through his question.

"That was not staring!"

He laughs again and you slam the bedroom door. The last thing you hear from him is: "Cute."

"Power’s out!" Sunggyu calls from somewhere in the cabin. There is a loud crash, a sudden wave of curses, and the sound of someone hitting the wall hard, followed by the cry of pain. It's pitch black and hard to move around. "There's some flashlights and candles in one of the closets. Myungsoo, Y/N, mind looking?"

"Sure," Myungsoo replies.

There is the shuffling of clothes, followed by footsteps. Suddenly, a cold hand wraps around your wrist, "I got you."

"How'd you know it was me?" You let him lead you forward, surprised by how quickly he can find his way around in the dark.

He shrugs, opening one of the closets before you and rummages through a box of items before producing a package of flashlights. "I could tell it was you."

"Yeah?" you ask.

"Maybe," he answers, flicking on the flashlight. It glows a dim light, before dimming just as suddenly. He frowns, checking the flashlight once again. "Dang. We need the good batteries."

Somehow, the door to the closet is shut, and suddenly his arms are caged on either side of you. The dim, flickering beam of the dying flashlight does nothing to illuminate the closet; it only casts long, sharp shadows across the planes of Myungsoo’s face. The space is suffocatingly small, smelling of old cedar, rain-dampened wood, and the intoxicating, clean scent of his skin.

"The batteries," Myungsoo murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly vibration in the dark. "They're... up there."

He shifts, his broad chest brushing flush against yours as he reaches upward. You gasp softly at the friction, your back pressing hard against the shelves behind you. The movement brings him entirely into your space. Because of the cramped quarters, he can't just reach up; he has to lean his weight fully into you to stabilize himself.

"Myungsoo," you breathe, your hands automatically coming up to find purchase. Your palms land flat against his bare, warm chest. The contact is electric. You can feel the rapid, heavy thudding of his heart beneath his ribs, mirroring your own wild pulse.

"Hold still," he whispers. His voice is strained now, the playful confidence from the kitchen entirely gone, replaced by a thick, heavy gravity.

He stretches higher, his abdomen flexing hard against your stomach. Every muscle in his torso is defined, moving against you with agonizing slowness as his fingers sweep blindly across the dusty top shelf. Your breath hitches. To keep from stumbling backward into the shelving, your fingers curl into the fabric of his jeans at his waist, pulling him a fraction of an inch closer.

Myungsoo lets out a low, ragged exhale at your touch. He freezes, his arm still raised, his fingers just brushing the edge of a plastic battery pack. He doesn't grab them. Instead, his focus shifts entirely to you.

The silence between you is deafening, filled only by the sound of your synchronized, shallow breathing. In the shadows, his dark eyes lock onto yours, burning with a decade's worth of unsaid words, regrets, and starved affection.

Slowly, deliberately, his free hand comes down from the wall, his knuckles lightly grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. The touch is feather-light, a agonizingly slow caress that sends a violent shiver straight down your spine. His thumb finds your jawline, tilting your face up just a fraction. He leans in closer, his lips hovering mere inches from yours, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

It takes you a moment to realize he had already reached up and plucked down the batteries needed, the very ones you came here in search for.

"You're shaking," he whispers, his thumb tracing a slow, agonizing circle on your cheekbone.

"It's cold," you lie, your voice barely audible and your hands tightening their grip on his waist. You shouldn't want this. You should push him away. But the sheer heat radiating from him is the only thing keeping you grounded in the dark.

"Liar," he murmurs softly.

He leans just a hair closer, his chest crushing softly against yours, his hips pinning you gently against the shelf. For a terrifying, exhilarating second, you think he’s finally going to bridge the gap and kiss you—to obliterate the ten years of agonizing normalcy you both forced yourselves to endure. Your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting in silent invitation.

The plastic package on the top shelf crinkles loudly as his fingers finally hook around it.

With a sharp, sudden intake of air, Myungsoo pulls his hand back from your face, gripping the heavy pack of D-batteries. He doesn't step back immediately—he can't, and perhaps, he doesn't want to. His forehead rests against yours for one prolonged, agonizing heartbeat, his body still draped over yours, heavy and warm.

"Got 'em," he says, his voice rough and laced with a thick undercurrent of tension.

Before you can process the sudden loss of his touch, he shifts his weight, blindly reaching behind him to twist the closet doorknob. The door swings open, flooding the tight space with the cool air of the hallway and the faint, distant chatter of your friends.

Myungsoo steps out into the hallway first, the flashlight clicking completely dead in his hand, leaving him a dark silhouette. He clears his throat, calling out to the living room, "We found the batteries, Sunggyu!" He tosses two flashlights to Sunggyu and Jinhee who are still digging around through other cupboards in search of the spare flashlights.

"It is raining like hell out," Woohyun laughs, "Probably got struck with lightning. It would explain the power out."

"Fuck, it's so damn dark," Eunha announces, leaning against Dongwoo, squinting her eyes.

Dongwoo kisses Eunha's cheek and glances around the room, "I guess playing truth or dare or strip poker is out. The rest of the night will just be sitting in the dark."

Sungyeol holds a finger up, "Or, we can play 'Never Have I Ever'! We have plenty of alcohol and enough flashlights and candles going on, so why not?" He suggests, gathering the attention of everyone. "You can opt out any time or not join if it's making you uncomfortable."

"Works for me," Eunha replies.

"Me too," Dongwoo nods.

The whole room buzzes with murmurs of agreeing to the game. With everyone gathered around the living room, an array of bottles is set at the center, the circle of people forms as some opt for seats and the rest sit on the carpet floor. It wasn't anything new, and seeing how the game will proceed, most don't object when a bottle is grabbed and tossed in the center.

The usual beginning statements of rules are presented, and it isn't long after that the game starts up.

"Hmm..." Sungyeol squints his eyes, looking thoughtful. "Okay. Never have I ever gotten arrested for underage drinking!"

Everyone turned their heads towards Jinkyung who groans and grabs the nearest drink. Everyone bursts out into a series of 'ooh's and she tosses a pillow at Sungyeol, complaining the whole time.

A couple rounds pass with the questions not getting any deeper or provocative, which leads Sungyeol to getting frustrated with his questions getting called out. So then, the fun part starts up.

"Come on, these questions are so soft! Nothing naughty going on here," Sungyeol pouts his lips. He calls out with a devious glint in his eyes, "Never have I ever..." He takes a moment to think, finally his lips twitching into a smug smirk as he spoke, "been in a messy breakup!"

He totally directed that one straight towards you and Myungsoo and everyone was curious, watching the two of you grab the nearest cups and take a drink of alcohol.

"We don't talk about it!" both of you spit out.

Sunggyu claps his hands. “Okay, next—”

But Sungyeol cuts him off. “No, no, no. We’re not skipping past that. That breakup was legendary.”

You stiffen. “Sungyeol—”

“What? I’m just saying! You two were like… the couple. The couple everyone thought would get married. And then boom! Chaos, heartbreak, international flight—”

“Yeol,” Myungsoo’s voice is low. Warning. Dangerous.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

Sungyeol throws his hands up. “Fine, fine. Sensitive topic. Moving on.”

The silence that follows Sungyeol’s forced retreat is heavy, suffocating, and punctuated only by the aggressive drumming of rain against the cabin windows.

You keep your eyes glued to your drink, your thumb tracing the condensation on the glass. The word legendary echoes in your head. Is that what a shattered heart looks like to everyone else? A spectator sport? They hadn't been there for the suffocating silence of the drive to the airport. They hadn't seen the way Myungsoo’s hands had gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, or heard the absolute finality in the sound of your suitcase wheels rolling away from him.

Across the dim, candlelit circle, you feel rather than see Myungsoo’s gaze fixed on you. You risk a glance up.

Through the flickering shadows, his dark eyes are burning, raw with a vulnerability he usually keeps locked in a fortress of indifference. He looks exactly like he had ten years ago—hurt, defensive, and fiercely protective of a wound that clearly hasn't healed.

"Alright, I think the alcohol is hitting me harder than I thought," you lie smoothly, putting your cup down on the carpet. You force a bright, practiced smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "I'm going to turn in early. Don't let me ruin the fun, though."

"Do you need a flashlight, Y/N?" Jooyeon asks softly, her eyes filled with sympathy.

"No, it's fine, I'll use my phone screen," you murmur, already pushing yourself up from the floor.

The bedroom is freezing. You don't turn on a flashlight. Instead, you curl up on your side of the queen-sized bed, pulling the heavy quilt tightly around your shoulders, staring out into the dark. Your chest aches with a physical tightness. Ten years, and a single comment from a friend can still make you feel like you were bleeding out on an airport terminal floor.

Ten minutes later, the door creaks open.

A shaft of dim light from the hallway cuts through the room before closing again. Heavy, familiar footsteps quiet as they approach the bed. You hold your breath, tensing, pretending to be asleep.

The mattress dips significantly. Myungsoo lies down on his side of the bed, keeping a strict, painful distance between your bodies. For a long time, neither of you move. The only sound is the howling storm outside and the ragged rhythm of your own breathing.

"I know you're awake," Myungsoo whispers into the dark. His voice sounds wrecked, stripped of the playful sarcasm he’d used in the car.

You don't turn around. "Go to sleep, Myungsoo."

"Did you mean it?" He asks, ignoring your dismissal. He shifts, the fabric of his clothes rustling against the sheets. "Back then. When you said I was suffocating you. Did you mean it?"

The question is an arrow straight to the chest. The angst of a decade's worth of unsaid words swells up in your throat, choking you. You roll over to face him, the darkness masking the tears welling in your eyes, though you know he can feel the shift.

"Why are you doing this now?" You choke out, your voice trembling. "It’s been ten years, Myungsoo. You didn't come with me. You chose your life here, and I chose mine there. We broke each other. Why dig it up?"

"Because I'm tired of pretending!" He bursts out, a sudden, fierce whisper. You hear him move closer, breaking the safe distance. In the shadows, you can see the outline of his face, mere inches from yours now. "I’m tired of being in the same room as you and acting like you're just Dongwoo’s sister-in-law. I’m tired of watching you date men who don't deserve you, and I’m sick to death of trying to find you in every single person I look at, only to come up empty."

Your heart hammers against your ribs so violently it’s dizzying. "Myungsoo..."

"I wanted to ask you to stay," he confesses, his voice dropping to a broken, desperate pitch. "Every single day you were gone, I woke up wishing I had crawled on my hands and knees and begged you not to get on that plane. But I was proud. And I was stupid. And I thought... I thought you wanted a world that was bigger than me."

You force yourself to meet his eyes. “I was scared. I thought you’d choose your family over me. And you did.”

His breath catches — like you hit something raw. “I didn’t choose them over you,” he says, voice low, pained. “I chose what I thought was right. I thought you’d hate me if I held you back. I thought you’d resent me if I asked you to stay.” You stare at him, stunned. He laughs once — bitter, self-directed. “I didn’t realize I’d lose you either way.”

Your chest aches. “Myungsoo…”

He leans forward slightly — not touching you, but close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You think I didn’t want to run after you at the airport?” His voice is barely a whisper. “You think I didn’t want to grab you and beg you to stay? I almost did. I almost ruined everything you worked for.” Your heart is pounding so hard it hurts. “And now,” he continues, eyes dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second, “we’re here. In the same room. Ten years later. And I still—”

He stops himself. His throat works. His hands curl into fists on his knees, like he’s physically restraining himself.

You whisper, “Still what?”

He looks at you like the truth is tearing him open. “Still want you,” he says, voice rough. “Still think about you. Still feel everything I shouldn’t.”

The air between you goes molten. You inhale sharply. “Myungsoo…”

"I don't blame you," he whispers, his thumb catching another stray tear. "I never blamed you. I wanted you to fly. I just... I always thought that eventually, you'd find your way back to me."

"I am back," you breathe, your voice barely audible over the thunder outside. "I've been back for years, Myungsoo. But you never asked me to stay. Myungsoo, I never stopped wanting you.”

His eyes snap open. The candle flickers violently. The storm roars. And for a moment, neither of you breathe. He whispers, “Say it again.”

You do. "I never stopped wanting you.”

He exhales like he’s been underwater for years. He leans in — slowly, painfully slowly — giving you every chance to pull away. His forehead almost touches yours. His breath ghosts your lips. But he doesn’t kiss you. He stops a hair’s breadth away, trembling with restraint. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers. “Please. Because if I kiss you now, I won’t be able to pretend anymore.”

Your pulse is a drum. Your hands shake. Your heart is breaking and healing at the same time. You whisper back, “I’m not telling you to stop.”

He kisses you. His mouth fits against yours, and the taste of him hits you like a blow to the chest. One hand grips your jaw, his fingers curling into the hair at the base of your neck. The other hand slides up the column of your throat until his thumb brushes over your lower lip. The movement forces your mouth open, and then his thumb is dragging over the sensitive flesh of your tongue. He inhales sharply through his nose as you suck on his thumb, and the way he looks at you with heat and hunger makes your cheeks flush.

Kissing Myungsoo is so achingly familiar and yet so different. He used to be gentler and slow, exploring, but this, the desperation, the need to just touch you is driving him wild and you respond with the same amount of desperation. Myungsoo shifts his weight so he can deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping against yours. Your senses flood with him. Your fingers trail along his thighs as his other hand, the one that had been grasping your jaw, moves lower. Suddenly, your back is against the mattress as his body cages you. His warmth surrounds you as the kiss grows hot, hungry, as if he was ravenous for your mouth, and all you could think is, more.

He breaks away suddenly, panting, resting his forehead against yours. His breath is labored. His skin is warm and flushed. He stares at you with wild, unguarded, lust-blown eyes. All his restraints are gone, you think, and he is breathtakingly, breathtaking. Your hair is a tangled mess around your face and your lips are swollen. His shoulders flex with each panted breath. His voice is gravelly as he murmurs, "Y/N..."

His tone is questioning, soft. Almost loving and filled with a thousand things unsaid. He cups your cheek, his thumb stroking you so gently, his brows are scrunched together, concerned. His thumb is still resting lightly on your bottom lip, wet and hot, making you gasp, your knees weak.

"Yes?"

"Can I... do things I shouldn't do?" He breathes, his head lowering down, a brush against your lips. "Things that maybe..."

"Maybe?" You gasp.

"Just maybe," His breath is ragged, "...I've thought about them for a very, very long time." His hand slides along the curve of your body as he whispers in a strangled tone, "Things that I miss doing with you."

Your voice is raspy, his eyes fixated on your swollen lips. "Like what?"

"Kissing," he touches his lips lightly to the side of your mouth. His touch leaves your knees weak. "Holding. Touching," his fingers trail down your sides and make your body come to life. He touches your lips, and the world melts. He whispers, "Being with you."

A thousand sparks sizzle up your arms. Your gaze goes to the collar of his shirt, the fabric pulled taut, showing how perfectly toned he is. Myungsoo closes his eyes when he feels the warm tip of your finger tracing down his neck. "Like I said," you toy with his collar, voice lowered. "I'm not stopping you."

He opens his eyes slowly, only to find that your gaze is hot. So hot it causes his breath to hitch. Your nails dig into the front of his shirt and rip it open, buttons flying everywhere, making a series of sounds when hitting the hardwood floors. You part his shirt further and sigh at his muscles, finally on display, which flex with excitement at your reaction to seeing them, causing you to swallow audibly.

Your hands skim across his pectorals, trailing to his biceps and back up to his broad shoulders as they work to slide his shirt off, leaving his upper torso bare. He hisses through his teeth as you lean your upper body in, closing the gap between you as your chest brushes against his own, nipples hard and sensitive as the fabric caresses his skin. "I can't believe how badly I miss seeing you like this..." your lips meet his warm skin, just under his jaw, "you always had a gorgeous body, but even now... damn, it makes my mouth water."

He leans his head back as your kisses travel along his jaw to his lips and pull the fabric off, throwing his shirt on the floor. "Ten years..." his fingers twine themselves in your hair as he groans softly, "did you keep yourself busy?"

His breath is warm as it spills over your lips, and it makes you think of hot summer nights, of holding your breath in the dark with his naked, dampened skin against yours and the damp, sweat-scented air. Makes you want to hold him down and press your ear against his chest just to hear the thunder of his heartbeat.

"There have been men." Your hands travel along his shoulders, pressing and digging into his skin, mapping out the way he feels. "But none of them were you," you admit, words barely audible, almost like a confession as you smile against his neck. "It was never right. None of them could be you."

And like the sun after rain, your smile makes him smile too.

He steals your lips for another deep kiss. Your mouths are relentless as they connect. Breathy moans are lost in the confines of each other's mouths. The desire rises between you until the rest of the world fades out. There is just Myungsoo, the shape and feel of his body, his touch, his warm lips, his tongue, and you want more. So much more than what is possible to do in such a short period. You both have needs that cannot be quenched, the carnal desire for one another cannot be tamed even for a small amount of time.

"Myungsoo," you moan into his mouth, and your hips instinctively roll against him, earning a shaky groan. His hands find the hem of your t-shirt, bunching the fabric up before swiftly removing it and exposing your flushed skin. He rests one hand on the bed beside your head and lets his other hand smooth over the curve of your side as he captures your lips once again. With each movement, each sensual sweep of his tongue, every tender and forceful caress, his hand climbs higher, teasing the underside of your breast. It leaves you arching, wanting, craving. It leaves you a puddle of moans as your core aches with each sensual, intimate move, the tightness knotting and spreading pleasurable heat to each and every part of your body, electrifying your nerves and lighting your senses. You inhale a shaky breath as your hands work to take off your bottoms, leaving you in panties and a bra only.

You gasp sharply as the pressure of his pelvis is now heavy against your lower regions, and the anticipation makes you swallow anxiously in addition to the hardness straining his jeans against your center, causing him to smirk. But this is how it usually plays out, the tease and denial making you melt. Like old times, he loves hearing you beg for him, but the game has changed, because now you know you hold more power.

Your fingers hook beneath the waistband of his jeans, tugging down with a possessive ferocity that catches him off guard. A low, gravelly sound tears from Myungsoo’s throat as you push the heavy denim over his hips, your palms sliding down the hard, tense planes of his thighs, committing the rigid geometry of his body to memory. He kicks the trousers away, moving with a sudden, predatory agility that shifts him back over you. The sheer weight of him, solid and unyielding, settles heavily into the cradle of your thighs. The thin barrier of his boxer briefs offers agonizingly little protection against the thick, throbbing heat of his arousal, pressing firmly against your soaking panties.

"You think you hold the reins here, Y/N?" he murmurs against your jaw, his voice vibrating deep within your chest. His teeth graze the sensitive juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, biting down just hard enough to make you arch up into his touch, a broken gasp escaping your lips. "Ten years of waiting. Ten years of watching you look at other men. You don't get to dictate how fast we burn."

His hands descend to the clasp of your bra, releasing it with a practiced, fluid motion. The cool air of the room hits your bare skin for a fraction of a second before it is instantly replaced by the searing warmth of his palms. He cups your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tight, aching peaks, rolling them with a deliberate, agonizing friction that sends a white-hot current straight to your core. Your hips roll instinctively, seeking a deeper pressure, but Myungsoo pins you down, his thighs locking yours in place, denying you the completion you are visibly begging for.

"Myungsoo, please," you whimper, your fingers digging into the defined muscles of his upper back, leaving faint red crescents on his skin. "Don't tease me. Not tonight."

"Look at me," he commands, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a dark, primal hunger.

You open your heavy eyes, your vision blurred with tears of sheer frustration and desire. In the dim, flickering amber glow of the dying candle, his face is a mask of pure, concentrated lust. His jaw is clenched so tightly a muscle leaps in his cheek, and his gaze is fixed entirely on your face, reading every micro-expression of your pleasure.

"I want to hear you say it," he whispers, his breath hot against your swollen lips. He reaches down, his fingers sliding beneath the lace edge of your panties, finding the drenched, burning heat of your center. He doesn't insert his fingers immediately; instead, he circles your sensitive bundle, his touch light, maddeningly soft, tracing the slick folds until you are shaking beneath him. "Tell me exactly who is ruining you right now."

"You," you sob out, the sensation driving you to the brink of insanity. You tilt your pelvis upward, forcing his hand deeper, the friction causing a slick, wet sound to echo in the small space between your bodies. "It’s only ever been you, Myungsoo. Please, I can’t—"

He doesn't let you finish. With a swift, fluid motion, he strips the last remaining pieces of clothing from both of your bodies, discarding them to the floor. The sensation of skin-on-skin contact is overwhelming, a sensory overload that makes you both shudder. He positions himself between your thighs, his thick length pressing directly against your aching entrance, teasing the threshold.

He pauses, his chest heaving against yours, his heart hammering like a trapped bird. The yearning in his eyes is palpable, a decade-long drought waiting for a single drop of rain. "If I do this," he rasps, his fingers intertwining with yours, pinning your hands to the mattress on either side of your head, "there is no going back to being just friends. There is no more pretending. You are mine again."

"I was always yours," you whisper back, your voice raw with emotion. "I never stopped."

A ragged exhale escapes him, and he drives his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one deep, unyielding thrust.

The fullness is staggering, a sharp, exquisite stretch that pulls a loud, uninhibited groan from your throat. Your eyes snap shut as your internal muscles clench tightly around him, welcoming him home with an intensity that makes Myungsoo’s head fall back, his neck muscles straining as he rides out the sheer wave of pleasure. For a long, breathless moment, neither of you moves, simply absorbing the profound reality of being one again after a decade of separation.

Then, the rhythm begins.

It is not gentle. The years of pent-up frustration, the unsaid words, the jealousy, and the profound ache of separation fuel every heavy, bruising thrust. Myungsoo sets a relentless pace, his hips slamming into yours with a rhythmic, primitive force that makes the wooden headboard thud rhythmically against the wall. The sound is loud, dangerously indiscreet in a cabin full of your friends, but neither of you cares. The world has shrunk to the perimeter of this mattress, to the slick, friction-heated heat of your bodies colliding.

You wrap your legs around his waist, locking him closer, wanting every single inch of him. Every time he pulls back, nearly withdrawing completely, you whine, pulling him back in with the strength of your thighs. He rewards your eagerness with deeper, harder strokes, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to take the full force of his weight.

"You're so tight," he groans against your ear, his breath hitching as your walls pulse around him. "So perfect. You haven't changed at all."

The heat in your lower stomach builds rapidly, tightening into a hard, coiled spring. The sheer friction of his body against yours, combined with the deliberate pressure of his thumb pressing against your bundle with every thrust, brings you to the absolute edge. Your breath comes in short, ragged pants, your head tossing from side to side on the pillow.

"Myungsoo, I'm close…I'm going to…"

"Come for me, Y/N," he growls, his pace becoming faster, almost frantic, his own climax rapidly catching up to him. "Let me feel it."

With a final, devastatingly deep thrust, your body fractures. Your internal muscles convulse violently around him in a series of intense, rhythmic spasms. A loud, breathless cry escapes your lips, buried quickly in the crook of his neck as the waves of the climax wash over you, turning your limbs to jelly.

Hearing your release breaks the last of his iron control. Myungsoo lets out a low, animalistic roar, his body stiffening completely as he thrusts deep inside you one last time, holding himself there as he unloads his release inside you. The sheer force of his climax ripples through his entire frame, his muscles locking, his chest heaving as he pours himself into you, claiming you completely.

The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by the sound of your synchronized, labored breathing and the steady patter of the rain outside. Myungsoo collapses onto your chest, his head buried in your hair, still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. He doesn't move to pull away, and you don't want him to.

After a long while, he shifts, rolling onto his side but keeping you securely wrapped in his arms, pulling the heavy quilt over your damp, chilled skin. He places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, his arm tightening around your waist as if fearing you might disappear if he lets go.

"We're going to have to talk to the others in the morning," he murmurs into the dark, a small, exhausted smile tugging at his lips.

You press your face into his bare chest, listening to the steady, comforting beat of his heart. "Let them talk," you whisper. "I'm not going anywhere."

The morning sun filters through the wooden blinds of the cabin, casting sharp angles of golden light across the tangled sheets. You wake up to the heavy, grounding weight of Myungsoo’s arm wrapped securely around your waist, his chest flush against your bare back. For a few quiet moments, neither of you moves. The chaotic storm from the night before has completely cleared, leaving behind only the crisp, damp scent of pine and the profound reality of what has just happened between you.

Myungsoo stirs, a low grunt vibrating through his chest as his grip tightens instinctively, pulling you closer into his warmth. His lips press a soft, lingering kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder.

"Don't move yet," he mumbles, his voice thick and rough with sleep. "If you get up, I have to face the fact that we actually have to open that door."

You turn in his embrace, looking up at him. His dark hair is a messy nest, and his eyes are heavy, but the guarded, distant look he has worn for the last ten years is entirely gone. In its place is an intense, raw vulnerability that makes your heart ache with a fierce protectiveness. You reach up, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jawline.

"We can't hide in here forever," you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Sunggyu is probably already making an insufferable amount of noise in the kitchen."

"Let him," Myungsoo growls softly. He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before his eyes darkened with a sudden, renewed heat. He shifted his weight, pinning your hand above your head on the pillow, his bare thigh sliding between yours. The friction of his skin against yours immediately reignited the embers from last night. ""You're a heavy sleeper when you're exhausted."

"Whose fault is that?" you wheeze, your voice dry. You try to stretch, but a dull, deep ache in your core reminds you exactly how relentless he was in the dark. A flush creeps up your neck.

"Mine," he admits without a shred of remorse, his eyes darkening with a sudden, wicked flash. He slides his hand lower, under the heavy quilt, his warm palm settling flat against your bare stomach. "And I'd happily take the blame again."

Before the conversation can turn dangerous, a sudden, loud thud echoes from the hallway outside, followed by the muffled sound of Sungyeol’s voice.

"Are they alive in there? The kitchen is freezing, the power is still out, and I'm pretty sure I heard the headboard trying to break through the drywall around 3:00 AM."

"Shut up, Yeol!" Eunha’s voice hisses from further down the hall. "Give them some space."

"Space? They've had ten years of space!"

Inside the room, you freeze, pulling the quilt up to your chin with a gasp. Myungsoo, however, just rolls his eyes and lets out a low chuckle, entirely unbothered. He doesn't move away; instead, he deliberately shifts his weight, pinning your leg beneath his thigh, letting you feel the heavy, rigid length of his arousal pressing against your hip.

"Let them talk," he whispers, echoing your words from the night before. His fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your face up to his. "We have a lot of lost time to make up for, Y/N. I'm not letting you hide from me anymore."

"Myungsoo, they're right outside," you whisper, your heart pounding as his thumb drags across your lower lip, pushing it open slightly.

"Then don't make a sound," he growls against your skin, his lips dropping to the sensitive hollow beneath your ear. His hand slides down to the crease of your thigh, parting your legs with a slow, unyielding pressure. The sheer earnestness in the way he holds you—like he’s terrified the last ten years were a dream and he’s finally waking up—melts away any remaining hesitation.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a deep, breathless kiss, completely surrendering to the way back to him.

Thirty minutes later, dressed in oversized hoodies and trying your absolute best to look "casual," the two of you step out of the bedroom. Myungsoo holds the door for you, his hand resting casually on the small of your back—a subconscious declaration of ownership that he doesn't even try to hide.

The power is back on, lighting up the kitchen where the entire friend group is gathered around the large island. Dongwoo is pouring coffee, Jinhee is setting out plates, and Sungjong is leaning against the counter, a mug halfway to his mouth. Sungyeol, who is sitting at the kitchen island, slowly lowers his mug, a massive, cat-like grin spreading across his face when he sees you and Myungsoo.

"Well, well, well," Sungyeol purrs, breaking the silence. "Look who finally decided to join the living. And look at that... you both managed to survive the night in the same room without killing each other."

"Shut up, Yeol," Myungsoo says smoothly, walking past him to grab two mugs. He doesn't look flustered at all; in fact, there’s a distinct, smug satisfaction in the relaxed slope of his shoulders.

Eunha walks over to you, narrowing her eyes as she inspects your face. She looks down at your neck, where a faint, rosy mark is barely hidden by the collar of your hoodie. A slow smile breaks across your sister's face. "You look... rested, sis."

"I slept fine," you lie badly, coughing into your hand and reaching for the coffee Myungsoo hands you.

"Did you?" Jinkyung chimes in, wiping sleep from her eyes. "Because I could have sworn the cabin's foundation was settling last night. Kept hearing this rhythmic thud-thud-thud against the wall. I thought it was the storm, but..."

You nearly choke on your coffee. Myungsoo calmly steps up next to you, bumping his hip against yours, completely unfazed. "The headboard was loose," he says, taking a slow sip of his black coffee. "I fixed it."

"Oh, I bet you fixed it real good," Woohyun yells from the living room couch, throwing his head back in a loud laugh. Jooyeon smacks his arm, though she’s giggling too.

Sunggyu snorts, holding a spatula like a gavel. He looks between you and Myungsoo, his eyes lingering on the way Myungsoo’s arm is naturally draped over the back of your chair as you sit down.

"So," Sunggyu says, pointing the spatula at Myungsoo. "Are we updating the group chat relationship status from 'Single' to 'It's Complicated,' or did you two finally get your brains screwed on straight after ten years?"

Myungsoo looks down at you. The teasing, playful energy of the room fades into something incredibly quiet and heavy with emotion. He reaches down, threading his fingers through yours right there on top of the table, in front of everyone. He doesn't care about hiding it anymore. The pining is over.

"It's not complicated," Myungsoo says, his voice firm and clear, looking straight at his friends. "We're done wasting time."

Dongwoo lets out a dramatic sigh of relief, dropping his head onto Eunha's shoulder. "Thank God. I couldn't take another year of you staring at her like a pathetic puppy at every holiday party."

"Hey!" Myungsoo protests, his cheeks finally turning a slight shade of pink.

The entire kitchen erupts into laughter and cheers. Sungjong raises his coffee mug in a mock toast. "To the loose headboard. May it never be fixed again."

You bury your face in Myungsoo’s chest, laughing through your embarrassment. The weight that had been sitting on your chest for the last ten years—the regret, the unspoken words, the lingering jealousy—evaporates entirely.

DO I KNOW YOU? ☆ @starlitjoong

Freshman year of college was supposed to be your fresh start. Your opportunity to put your best foot forward. Then a familiar face you’re not too thrilled by rips that chance away. Kim Hongjoong was assigned to train you for your new job in the campus library. He was thorough, too thorough, recalling things you didn’t quite want to remember. The memories with your first love haunt you in your sleep. Will seeing him every day cause your hate to grow? Or will the feelings you worked so hard to bury erupt into a chaotic mess of storage closet makeouts and cold shoulders?

HARD TO FOCUS ☆ @belongjoong 18+

physics was never a strong subject for you, but when your hot new tutor kim hongjoong comes to the rescue, you start to wonder if you're really staying for the lessons - or just for him.

ONE MORE LINE ☆ @blizzardfluffykpop 18+

Everything in your senior year of college felt like you needed just one more; one more class, one more test, one more line, and it would all be over, and you could finally rest your bones. And with Hongjoong by your side; every class, every test, every line came easy. And when Tuesdays and Thursdays came to a close, you could peacefully rest your bones beside him. Drawing to your hearts content as he scribbles down a half a page of lines.

CURTAIN CALL ☆ @sangis-puppy

College was draining enough without having D1 athlete and ‘Pride of the school, Chris, up your ass for two years trying to get you in his bed. You’d do anything to get him off your back for even a week of peace. So when the chance to knock him down a few pegs presents itself in the form of Park Seonghwa, a nerdy type that said athlete torments, you take it. What starts as a few campus spottings to get under Chris’s skin turns into blurred lines and moments that feel too real for a fake relationship. Time ticks to Homecoming and the curtain will fall on this act. How will you bow out?

SUNBURN ☆ @sungbeam

you and park seonghwa, petty rivals since the third grade, can't stand the sight of each other. at least, that's what you both claim. sometimes, getting the truth out of two stubborn people just requires turning up the heat.

SWEETHEART ☆ @ja3hwa 18+

ATZ was the place to be. Everyone either wanted to be in the fraternity or be with one of the members... And this push and pull you had seemingly fallen into with one of the brooding frat boys was making you dizzy. Your neck quickly aching from whiplash over the constant what ifs and maybes...

Oh... Oh wait, it was just the dark bruising hickies he left that were the ache and the overflow of alcohol that made you dizzy... Whoops.

LEVEL ZERO ☆ @03jyh23 18+

Jeong Yunho is the human equivalent of a system crash. A 6’2” wreck of stuttered sentences, fogged-up glasses, and nerves he can’t outgrow. He has spent his first year of college trying to be invisible. He’s a tactical genius on screen, but on campus, he can barely survive a three-word greeting without his voice cracking.

He tries to start a Gaming Club in a basement that smells like dust and dump. When a pack of “Mean Girls” turns his recruitment drive into a public execution, you step in.

You lie. You improvise. You claim you’re his pro-tier carry—his star recruit.

Now you learn the hard way: Rule #1 of saving a cute nerd from bullies is this—don’t claim you’re an expert in a game you’ve never heard of.

NEW PERSPECTIVE ☆ @from-izzy

The stage has always been jeong yunho's, star university's top acting student, happiest place. but as time goes on, and pressure makes him slip away from acting, a certain girl with her canvas paints a story from a new perspective that keeps him going.

SLEEPOVERS IN MY BED ☆ @everyonewooeverywhere 18+

jeong yunho and song mingi have always been the campus's "it couple." even those who don't know them say they're a match made in heaven--meant to be in every universe. but you know different. you know the truth: that jeong yunho spends her sunday nights in your bed and song mingi is a fucking weirdo. but while her boyfriend thinks she's studying, you're giving her what he could never fulfill. she may love him, but at least she's in your bed.

AFTER HOURS ☆ @17teezers 18+

Being an ra comes with a lot of responsibilities: managing residents, hosting events, surviving move in day… but apparently you need to learn how to survive your co-ra, kang yeosang, as well. that definitely wasn’t in the manual.

He’s professional, intelligent, organized, and also really good at making you feel stupid. after being assigned the same floor, you start to realize he might not be as bad as you thought. which would be fine — if there wasn’t one very simple rule: don’t date your coworkers.

LITTLE MISS CATASTROPHE ☆ @hyungszn

Meet kang yeosang. sophomore, gymnast, and most importantly, campus’ most eligible omega. yeosang’s been trying to set the record straight for years but thanks to his slightly awkward nature, people kind of just brush him off for a pretty face. however just when he thinks of giving up, the universe concocts the most disastrous “outing” imaginable: you.

WATER GIRL ☆ @yeonlymine 18+

Between lectures and slaving in the training room, choosing athletic training as your work study job was supposed to be the easy part of college. until a transfer named yeosang joins the roster mid season and suddenly the nickname “water girl” isn’t just harmless locker room teasing anymore.

A PACK A DAY ☆ @maho6any 18+

You asked him what kind of doctor smokes? he said he'd quit once he gets his degree. you didn't like each other very much. you hated that you sat next to each other in class, to which you both used the excuse that it was only because it was the desk closest to the wall outlet. the professor seems to think you do this by choice, and decides you would be the perfect pair for the childcare simulation. and unfortunately for you and your poor sensitive heart, a pack a day does not in fact keep the doctor away

HANDS ON ME ☆ @xomakara 18+

You join KQ University’s Taekwondo club and immediately get underestimated — especially by San, the star member who treats you like you might break. When you finally reveal your true skill by sweeping him in a spar, everything shifts, and San becomes fascinated, competitive, and increasingly drawn to you.

DARE ☆ @minkieater 18+ {Part Two}

you can’t fucking stand jung wooyoung, mingi really really wants kim minjeong. when wooyoung and winter end up together, you and mingi have no choice but to figure out how to win winter’s favor, to stab wooyoung in the back. mingi needs a favor, and you want revenge... do you dare?

PAS DE DEUX ☆ @way2jellyous 18+

At Seoul's most prestigious ballet university, no pair is more legendary than you and Ikhyun - until a scandal destroys his career overnight. Varna is coming up, and you're forced to pick a new partner. But maybe some things are never meant to be replaced. - or lowkey a k-drama that somehow got converted to a fanfic on tumblr dot com

PIPE DREAM ☆ @yestodayys 18+

Song mingi is a lot of things. he’s top of the class you hate the most, a mutual friend of your roommates, probably the best dressed guy on campus… and now he’s haunting your dreams, too.

FLASH POINT ☆ @hyungszn 18+

There’s a very thin line between lust and hate; a concept of which you are intimately familiar. when you push, wooyoung pulls, and soon what started out as a battle of wills has quickly morphed into a war of temptation with no ceasefire in sight. TL;DR: in a world where opposites are meant to attract, you and wooyoung couldn’t be more alike… so why the hell do you want each other so bad?

KANJO ☆ @jitaewoo 18+

There’s two subgroups of hashiriyas that rule japan: the kanjozoku of osaka and the roulettezoku of tokyo.

In osaka, you live your days out either on campus or at work. on the outside, it’s all seems so repetitive and boring—but that is exactly what you want. then, one day, it all gets messed up when a new transfer student, jung wooyoung, comes and threatens to shatter everything you have built. stupid tokyo boys have no clue what really goes on in osaka, and wooyoung is going to have to learn the hard way.

THE OFF LIMITS RULE ☆ @stxrrywoo 18+

Coming back from studying abroad for two years you had two goals in mind: win the annual end of summer fashion design contest and jung wooyoung... your brothers best friend. only issue? your brother had forbidden you from his friends and likewise has forbidden his friends from you. yet when yeosang gets the opportunity to study abroad you start to see an opportunity to finally make your move, so you take it. I mean.... what's the worst that could happen?

AS IF ☆ @moooonandroses 18+

You and jongho can’t stand each other, but the universe doesn't seem to catch the signals. everywhere you went, he was there. friends teased you both, saying that you liked each other so much you were manifesting the other everywhere. ugh, as if you would ever like him, right?

[NOUN] LOVE ☆ @redemptions 18+

You and jongho met as children during a letter writing project. years later, you get the chance to meet in person because of a study exchange but you are determined to keep your feelings a secret - after all, how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with him?

THE LAW OF ATTRACTION ☆ @jinkoh

Jongho was everything you weren’t: ambitious, diligent, promising—all in all the perfect law school student. Naturally, your chaos didn’t fit into his prearranged life. Not for long, anyway. Your silly little relationship was never meant to last. So how come you couldn't seem to move on? Of course, being grouped together for a semester-long assignment didn't exactly help your case.

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