This Is War (Prologue + Masterlist)

PEDAL TO THE METAL (series masterlist)

🏁 IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! 🏁

Welcome to the world of F1, where the cars go fast, the stakes go higher, and the drama never lifts off the throttle. Seventeen rules the grid—from precision strategies to podium glory. Whether it’s navigating a hairpin turn or a tricky love confession, the tension is always at maximum revs. So tighten your harness and adjust your visors—this isn’t just a race; it’s the ride of a lifetime.

🏁 N O T E S : this has been in the works for far too long, and i owe it to @ylangelegy for yanking it out of my head and putting it on paper. i hope you love my magnum opus as much as i love writing it <3 without further ado, welcome to pedal to the metal !

🏎️ in the cockpit: ferrari driver!jeonghan x journalist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic HERE (part i) and HERE (part ii) 🚥 sprint results: [on the record] [off the record] [bad for business]

📝 post race analysis: jeonghan's not used to someone who pushes his buttons as easily as you do, and you're not used to someone who challenges you as quickly as he does. maybe it's time to go full throttle, both on and off the track.

🏎️ in the cockpit: ferrari driver!soonyoung x publicist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: a ferrari driver who loathes media day, a publicist who’s one press conference away from losing it, and enough tension to power the entire grid—because apparently, managing his PR disasters isn’t in the job description for falling for him.

🏎️ in the cockpit: mclaren driver!mingyu x strategist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: when the fastest driver on the grid has a habit of ignoring orders and the loudest strategist in the paddock has zero patience for his antics, the result isn't what everyone expects. but one thing's for sure: everyone hears the team radio.

🏎️ in the cockpit: aston martin driver!seokmin x f1 vlogger!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: for the first time in his life, seokmin realizes he wants something he can’t just reach out and take.

illicit affairs | y.jh, j.ww

Months sequestered in a rival’s high-rise leaves you feeling desperate and lonely. Not exactly the best mix of feelings for an unmated omega to have.

genre: A/B/O, Mafia AU

contents: Mafia boss Jeonghan who exploits abo attributes (who’s surprised), Alpha Wonwoo, Omega female reader.

warnings: SMUT, angst in a way, reader goes into heat… exhibitionism, degradation.

Icy metal restraints dig deep into the skin of your wrists, cold metal starting to rub the surface raw with each of your slight movements. 

The failed attempt of fleeing has landed you in a room you've never been in before, where floor to wall windows open up your vision to Seoul’s twinkling skyline. The haze that never leaves this city fuzzes out the bright lights that flicker and shine against the night sky. 

It’s a beautiful sight that you’d usually enjoy, if you couldn’t feel a warm tract of blood starting to trail down to your fingertips. You take that as your queue to give up on trying to release yourself from the over-tightened handcuffs. 

From the looks of the executive desk you’ve been placed in front of, you’ve been settled in an office. Everything about the space is sleek and meticulous, entirely too refined to belong to anyone else other than him.

Mr. Yoon, or Jeonghan, as he insisted you called him. 

He’s got the face of an angel, but your father has told you stories about him that prove he’s everything but. Normally, you’d place blind faith in your father, but you see, Mr. Yoon has been nothing but kind to you since day one of your captivity. Indiscernible due to his lack of scent, sure, but always accommodating.

Something tells you that you won’t be on the receiving end of such hospitality tonight.

Heavy doors open gently behind you, and immediately the quiet air you sat in turns dense. The familiar scent of evergreen forest lets you know that Mr. Yoon doesn’t come alone, then again, he’s rarely seen without his secondhand man.

Delicate footsteps sound from behind and you feel a careful examination of the cuffs, the slight shift leaves you sucking in a sharp breath.

A disapproving tut sounds from behind, followed by an airy sigh, “Who put these on so tight? Will you get these off of her, Wonwoo?”

Phew. The display of humanity brings an air of hope with it.

Relief settles on the pretty man’s features when a bit of the apprehension in your scent eases up, watching you rub over the soreness before handing you the handkerchief that had been neatly folded in his breast pocket, “Here, take this.”

“…Thank you, Mr. Yoon.”

He gives you a polite shake of his head. It’s impressive really—the way he can wear every emotion so beautifully, dawning a bashful smile as he settles into the seat at his desk, “Please, call me Jeonghan.”

Something screams at you to not get too comfortable with Korea’s most wanted crime lord, pushing out your response as innocuously as you can muster, “I’d rather not, if that’s okay.”

He nods, respectful of your decision, “If you insist.”

Wonwoo settles the cuffs on the desk, and the sillage he leaves has you inhaling deeply, unconsciously drowning your lungs with the scent. It’s earthy and warm, blanketing your insides like a cozy duvet on a gloomy winter day. Wonwoo maintains his stoic expression, careful not to look into your eyes before bowing to his superior, heading over to the stainless steel bar cart that sits near the farthest window of the room.

He leaves you under Mr. Yoon’s watchful eyes. They’re a deep raven shade that makes it impossible to see where his iris starts and the pupil begins, pools of obsidian that glimmer even in the low light of his office. He’s this close to devouring your intrigued frame whole till a whiskey neat gets settled onto the desk, it’s accompanied by another bow before Wonwoo makes his way back to his place by the door.

You watch the Adam's apple bob in the man’s throat from a hearty sip, not surprised to see that he doesn’t give the slightest reaction. Based on your two meetings, it would seem that Mr. Yoon doesn’t have a concept of what those may be. He’s always present but never decipherable, wearing an impenetrable mask that earned him a top place as one of Seoul’s most menacing Godfathers.

He sets the glass down with a pinky to silence its landing, “Cha, to the matter at hand.” Milky white hands clasp atop the pricey Blackwood, “Why the attempt at fleeing? I try my best to give you everything you could possibly want.”

His vision pans to his second hand man who’s posted near the door, hands tensing as they cradle themselves behind his back. The Don gets a teeny glint in his eyes, and your own bulge out when the faintest note of excitement bleeds through his heavily guarded scent.

It’s the slightest hint of white orchid that zaps a crackle of electricity up your spine.

Mr. Yoon’s palms open up as he looks at you with a smile that’s all too knowing, “I even let you fuck my men.”

Shit.

Once. Twice. Regardless of how many times, it all began when your assigned babysitter never returned from his mission. The group of watchmen had been busy devising a backup plan to make up for his loss, and Mr. Yoon delegated your safety to none other than Wonwoo. 

The man was quiet but attentive, sighing every now and then as he went over some paperwork in the corner of your designated chamber. The plumes of worry he emitted beckoned you to his side. Where you poked and prodded and let the mellowness of your lavender scent waft over the ample room that had been so graciously provided to you. 

You asked and Wonwoo responded, and at some point the questions went beyond the limits of captor and hostage. Each answer led to the conclusion that he’d been a lone wolf, deserted by his own pack. That it’d been that way till Mr. Yoon had saved him off the desolate back-streets of Seoul—Wonwoo’s self-proclaimed ‘guardian angel’, who extended his arm out when he spotted a lonely young boy crumpled into a small ball of bones as he dawned nothing but a tattered tee and shorts in the unforgiving rain. 

He provided him with anything a boy like Wonwoo could’ve ever needed, but an Omega as refined as you didn’t exist in their realm. Not the kind who would ask him questions that went beyond the surface, anyway. 

It was impossible to resist falling into you, into your display of attention as you ran your warm hands all over his scarred body, showing him things he’s never experienced before. He swears it felt secondhand nature to become unraveled by your touch, years of contained emotions bursting through his over-tightened seams to become gratefully received by your indulgent body. 

Wonwoo is a handsome man, so it wasn’t hard to come up with a plan. It was a simple tactic you devised, using your scent to dwindle his defenses. Assigning yourself a lead role in the play of gradually persuading your captor into letting you free, but you went a little off script—The both of you did.

Mr. Yoon placed your cards flat on the table for everyone to see, and now you have to respond for playing dirty. He doesn’t allow you any time to think up an adequate response, sifting through the memory cabinets in his mind, “It’s been a while since you two last met up, correct?” 

He rejoices at the effect his revelation had on you both, smiling as he saunters his way over to your stunned body. Physical boundaries don’t exist in his office, he makes that clear in the way he bursts through your personal bubble, upturned lips grazing the soft shell of your ear as he holds Wonwoo’s taken aback gaze, “Is he not cutting it anymore?”

A calculated release of pheromones wafts over the room, it’s a consuming bloom of delicate white orchids and orange blossom that enchants your Omega, sending your eyes to the back of your skull involuntarily. Jeonghan tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning further into you for the sole purpose of letting your nose fall to where the scent emits the strongest, “Need someone more your pace, don’t you? I think I know just the man.” 

You subdue a shudder, but they can both smell the dollops of slick starting to dampen your underwear, feel the air grow thick with the rich pheromones of intrigue and lust. A part of Jeonghan wonders in which ways Wonwoo’s face would contort if he were to turn you around and have his besotted second hand man bear witness to the way your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth to stop any unsavory noises from escaping. But he won’t. In fact, the merciless man has grown fond of you. He doesn’t feel the need to humiliate you like that. 

Not when your body can do it for him.

The invisible strings of restraint anchoring Wonwoo to the ground are tight, but they have their moment of weakness where they slack up. It's the teeniest pull of fury that tugs at his upper lip, bearing his canines in the process.  

Jeonghan finds nothing but pleasure in it, feasting on the never before seen display of ownership running rampant in his office. Jeonghan revels in Wonwoo’s silent threat for a couple seconds before stepping back slowly, eyes lidded with smug accomplishment, “It's a shame really, you two would’ve made the perfect couple.”

Would’ve. The past tense particle pumps an unknown fear through your veins.

He can smell a sharp note of panic leak through your scent. When Jeonghan focuses his attention back on you he can see the tears welling up your eyes, the slight quiver of your gnawed-on lip. He can’t help but coo, losing the little seriousness he’s held for this entire encounter, “Oh. Don’t look so scared, doll. I’m not going to physically hurt him.” A hand comes up to cradle your cheek softly. The act would’ve been consoling if he didn't have such an ominous tone as he reached for your palm, bowing slightly to dust a featherlight kiss on its back, “I’ve got something better in store for you both.”

—

It’s been weeks and Wonwoo has yet to hear anything about you, Jeonghan has been keeping him holed inside this high rise with nothing to do, no sorts of tasks to take his mind off the fact that he hasn’t heard a single thing about you in weeks.

A servant enters his quarters with a silver platter, atop it a small white envelope. Wonwoo breaks the red seal to see it read, Mr. Yoon requires your presence in his study.

Leather soles come crashing down on the marble flooring as he dashes there, not noticing the way one of the stalky guards is holding a look of sympathy in his eyes, one that his position doesn’t tolerate even on the worst of days. 

Wonwoo bursts through the doors and immediately he’s assaulted by pungent florals. His face scrunches up in disgust. He hopes his eyes are deceiving him, that you’re not actually bent over Jeonghan’s desk as he ravishes your body from behind. All the hope in his body dies out the second his ears pick up on a gush of your slick splashing against the marble floor. 

The only thing that grounds him back to earth is the sounds of his boss’ belt buckles clinking with each unashamed thrust he feeds you.

Wonwoo thought he was the only one who could make you feel good, bring your scent to full bloom in that way. Jeonghan knew that. 

He knew that the second Wonwoo was called back from your quarters smelling like a freshly picked batch of lavender. He confirmed it with a single glance where Wonwoo’s eyes slipped and he looked at you with unsupressable adoration. Jeonghan was aware of just how head over heels you’ve made the unsuspecting man, so he did what he does best. 

Break people. Strip them down to bare bones and mangled tendons just to watch them bleed out with an arrogant smile on his face. Because we’re all humans at the core of it all, guided by nothing but our desires, or worse—emotions.

Of course Jeonghan promised not to harm Wonwoo physically, so he decided to wound him where it would hurt the most. To take the one thing Wonwoo has ever held in the palm of his hands right before his eyes.

What’s worse? Jeonghan didn’t even have to try to get you to fold, you did that all on your own. 

You try to hide from his betrayed gaze but Jeonghan’s desk faces the door, not leaving you anywhere to turn to so you close your eyes instead.

Jeonghan keeps your attempt at hiding short-lived, yanking your torso up from his desk so your bare back is flush against his chest. The heat in your abdomen is roaring, radiating through his cloth covered flesh, “I tried to help myself Wonwoo, I really did.” Jeonghan’s voice is taut as he remembers the way your sweet wails rang through the hallways, the way you stumbled dizzily into his office, “But you should’ve heard the way she was calling for me.”

You were so cute, eyes teary as your knees collided into the marble beneath his feet, mindlessly pressing your face against the bulge in his slacks in hopes that you wouldn’t have to admit just how bad you needed him. The blistering coil in your tummy didn’t even allow for Jeonghan to properly take off his clothes.

He squishes your cheeks, limp tongue falling out and letting warm drool drag down your chin, “I couldn’t just leave her to deal with her heat alone.”

Your only savior is the skin of your eyelids as you clamp them shut, a sliver of you wished to disappear into thin air, but your biology drowned out that thought. Your Omega screamed for Wonwoo to keep his eyes on you for a little longer, to show him how good you can be for him if he just waited his turn. 

Wonwoo can smell your scent sweeten as Jeonghan manages to hug you closer so a possessive hand can slink around your neck and give it the slightest squeeze, “Then I mentioned you and she just got so tight.”

Jeonghan peels your sweat coated body off of his suit to peer down at where his cock disappears into your cunt. He licks his lips over the way your slick has soaked through every thread that makes up the entire front side of his slacks. The strokes he’s feeding you are languid, where the tip of his cock caresses your spongy bundle of nerves with each roll of his hips, “You should feel the way she’s squeezing me right now.”

Your voice is garbled as he dips into your scent gland to inhale deeply. He doesn’t bother refusing the instinct that demands him to roll out his tongue to lave over the sensitive skin there, the sharp canine that brushes against it involuntarily tightens every muscle in his body. The temptation buzzing in his blood seeps into your own.

“Jeonghan—” You whimper into the air, pawing behind your back to get him as close as he’d been before.

He obliges to your pathetic, broken plea—like any good Alpha would. Veins surging with ecstasy over the fact that you’ve finally called him his god-given name. 

Jeonghan has officially lost the mask he’s learned to wear in this business. The one that won’t let him show any ounce of true emotion because that’s what welcomes any exploitation of his weaknesses. It cracked and slipped off into the puddle of slick pooling beneath his feet.

Each tender plunge into your slippery heat adds another white spec to your fuzzed out vision, paints a drunken smile on Jeonghan's face as he continues to actively stoke the ire burning in Wonwoo's chest. The smoky scent of a raging wildfire only makes Jeonghan establish a steady pace.

The heated coil in Jeonghan’s navel is glowing bright red. It’s futile to try and downplay just how good you feel around him, he doesn’t want to play unaffected anymore. Kisses on the back of his teeth morph into heavy panting that gets drowned out by your heavenly moans. They're light and airy like the cloud of bliss Jeonghan’s got you floating on.

Jeonghan tries to keep his voice steady when you begin to push your ass against him, watching the doughy flesh spill around his tight grip as he pulls you onto his cock. He watches the strings of your arousal stretch and tack up before flickering his attention up to the door, “You know, Wonwoo.”

The mere mention of his name has you collapsing onto the cool wood beneath you. It’s the only thing keeping you up as you feel your lower vertebrae starting to fizz away, one by one dissolving with each meticulous rock of his hips as they kiss into yours with a lewd smack, “If you’re good for us, I just might let you clean her up.”

A fresh batch of pheromones leaks into the air, clearing out the burnt stench from earlier with the crisp air given off by new and rejuvenated trees.

Jeonghan kneads the mounds of your ass before delivering a harsh slap that makes Wonwoo twitch, everywhere. A diabolic smirk corrupts Jeonghan’s features, “Oh? You like the sound of that?”

—

shoutout OHSHC, the girls who get it, got it.

WOOZI on SEVENTEEN winning Artist Of The Year in MAMA 2024

' THE WAY BACK ' | c. seungcheol

synopsis : fans reminisce on your relationship with seungcheol pairing : rapper!seungcheol x gn!, actor!reader genre/s : mini smau, angst, fluff, some humor mixed in

part one : memory lane | part two : hopelessly devoted | part three : beginning, middle, the end

from reese, with love <3

highkey inspired by a vague memory of what my tl looked like when hyuna and dawn broke up and as you can see... this is a three-parter hehe. no promises on when the next parts will be out, but if you want to be tagged for the other parts, just send me an ask or reply to this post :) thank you for reading! i'd really love to know what you think for this one bec i had a lot of fun making it :> hope you're all doing well and taking care !

what's the expiration date on love?

congrats on 100 followers !! slut by taylor swift, but more specifically the lyrics “in a world of boys, he’s a gentlemen” reminds me of seungcheol !! 🫶🏼

the wrong place at the right time and i break down, and then he's pullin' me in in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

wc <1k. warnings cursing (reader does indeed get called a slut), mentions of death, guns, violence, some blood, hurt/comfort. jay’s musings thank u thank u anon!! ;w; sorry i kind of got carried away,,, the way my imagination took this song and RAN WITH IT,, these lines fit cheollie sm omg… totally did not fantasize a whole fic w this LOL hope u enjoy!!

You’re running.

Trees whip past you, your shoes hitting the muddy ground harshly. Your breath comes out in short gasps. There’s a gunshot somewhere behind you but you don’t dare look back. Looking back means hesitating, and hesitation means death.

You just can’t catch a damn break, can you?

It’s just past blue hour, the vast sky above beginning to twinkle with stars. If you were anywhere else you’d take the liberty to stare up in amazement, pointing out what constellations were in view and being granted the reward of hearing a soft murmur of approval from Seungcheol beside you.

The thought is the only thing keeping you sensible at the moment.

You hadn’t meant to alert the robbers as they canoodled around their fire, planning their next big heist. Your foot had slipped, the gun in your grasp falling to the forest floor as you winced. Seungcheol’s eyes widened from across the clearing.

It was a miscalculation of just how slippery the ground had become from the storm; a misstep, a mistake.

The robbers’ heads snapped up at once, and all hell had broken loose soon after.

You didn’t know where Seungcheol was. Your partner had barked out something to you the second the robbers were alerted, but it was lost to the wind as you ran for your life.

Coward, you cry internally as the shouts and heavy footsteps of the men grow closer. You shouldn’t have ran. You messed up big time. Seungcheol could be dead because of you.

Coward, coward, coward.

There’s a loud curse somewhere from your right. You push through a bush, panic overtaking you. Thorns prickle you through your uniform and draw blood. Your lungs burn.

Tears are clouding your vision, and before you know it, you’re cornered.

Bark scrapes your back as you’re hoisted up by the collar, the muzzle of a gun cold and pressing to your throat. You bite back a whimper.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t ya?” the criminal jeers from underneath his hood.

His voice is scratchy and his breath stinks of alcohol. You’re frozen in place, not daring to move a muscle.

“Maybe I should have a little fun before the finale,” he mutters, digging the gun further into your skin. “Would ya like that, slut?”

Before you can answer, a resounding crack! sounds. You watch as a fist flies into the side of the man’s head, a powerful kick following soon after. The robber’s grip loosens as he falls to the ground, blood pooling from his mouth.

You sink to the floor with a sob.

“Hey, hey,” Seungcheol’s voice is a welcome contrast to the roughness that handled you just moments before. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

He settles you against the tree, turned away from the unconscious man, his warm hands rubbing soothing circles along your knuckles.

“Did he hurt you? Tell me, did he hurt you? Are you injured anywhere?”

You shake your head, biting your lip and curling in on yourself. Your partner notices a scratch on your cheek and wipes the streaking blood away with his thumb. Seungcheol cups your face in his gloved hand, eyes watery.

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. “I ruined the investigation. I almost got us killed.”

“No, no, no,” your name falls off his tongue like it’s sacred. “Don’t think that—please, don’t think that. That’s not what’s important right now. What matters is that you’re safe, and alive.”

Seungcheol brings you close to him, holding you tightly. The organization back at base will have so much to criticize, you want to wail into his chest. I’ll be deemed a failure right out of training and I’ll bring you down with me. I’m so sorry.

Instead, you weakly sniffle and pull away, tears staining your face and hair. Seungcheol eagerly wipes them away as he tends to your cuts.

You momentarily forget you’re in the middle of the woods, gun lost and criminals hot on your trail. The heat of his touch brings back some feeling to your senses, enveloping you in the scent of his cologne and the shaky press of his lips to the crown of your head.

Fuck the operation, his kiss says. The operation never matters more than your safety.

Never.

want to queue a song?

xinganhao 🌟 shared a moment with you: "jeonghan x reader"

sometimes, distance makes the heart grow fonder. at least that's what jeonghan hopes. inspired by jeonghan's better half ft. omoinotake.

🎧 supplementary listening: heaven knows (this angel has flown) by orange & lemons | eroplanong papel by december avenue | the day you said goodnight by hale | stars by callalily.

Cherry Picker [teaser]

part of the winter with you collab hosted by @camandemstudios!

Choi Seungcheol x reader

est. word count: um 30k (?)

est. release date: January 10th

warnings: Hockey player! Seungcheol, figure skater! reader, *deep breath* ENEMIES TO LOVERS, angst, fluff, smut [MINORS DNI], more to be added in final post

synopsis: Cherry Picking [ice hockey]: a manoeuver in which a player, the floater, literally loafs (spends time in idleness) or casually skates behind the opposing team's unsuspecting defencemen while they are in their attacking zone. There wasn't much you counted on in life; just your skates, your drive and how it felt to win. And of course, your local ice rink, that is now being colonised by an obnoxious hockey team in all their big, loud, stinking glory. Neither does it help that one particular red donned specimen forgets to leave his cherry picking on the ice.

‼️ JOIN THE TAGLIST by sending an ask or replying under this post. AGE INDICATORS ON YOUR BLOG ARE NECESSARY. ‼️

[a/n]: I first wrote hockey player Cheol quite literally a full year ago and I promised to expand on the concept, so here we are!!! im so excited for y'all to read this bc im genuinely putting my heart and ass into this fic. lmk your thoughts about the teaser!!! please remember to support the rest of the fics coming out in association with the winter with you collab, all of these writers are working so hard to bring you fics you're going to love 🥹

masterlist

The ice is empty, mostly. Placing your laptop in the sound booth and your shoes under the benches, you step foot on the ice. They’re there, on the other end, sitting on the cold ice with their jerseys still on, eating what looks like cups of dippin dots. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan, you remember from Lorelai’s squealing, either don’t notice you on the ice, or simply choose not to. Because it’s easy as you skate up to them, gaining speed from across the rink, you slide to a stop, sending a perfect spray of ice from your skates, directly into their cups. 

Seungcheol’s full spoon hangs mid air, halfway to his mouth, now garnished with ice shavings. 

“Thought you’d have the respect to keep the dippin dots out of this,” Jeonghan comments, disbelief in his eyes as he looks up at you. 

“Ice is booked.” 

“What time?” Seungcheol asks. Your gaze flickers to the left side of his face, a nasty bruise blooming purple and blue that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“Two sixteen. It’s nearly fifteen minutes past.”

“You’re only one person.” 

“And?”

“And…you have about 97% of the rink to yourself.”

You raise your brows, hands on your hips. “But I booked 100% of it. So I’m gonna need that plane of ice you’re currently sitting on.” 

“What if I don’t move?” Seungcheol presses. It’s menacing, the way he looks at you, like he’s a dragon only waiting to be provoked. 

“We’ll find out another day,” Jeonghan sings before you can snap back, grabbing onto the collar of Seungcheol’s red and white jersey to yank him up. He continues to glare as he obliges with his friend’s tugs, nearly as angry as you are. “Let’s go, sport.”

You watch as they walk to the exit of the ice, realising they’re wearing their shoes instead of their skates. 

Jeonghan calls from the benches, right before he and Seungcheol move out of view. “Trash those for us, would you?” 

Their half eaten dippin dots cups, with the ice now melting on them remains on the floor of the rink. 

Once again, the unexplainable urge to kick something befalls you, hearing them laugh and talk from far away as they exit the rink behind their long gone teammates. 

You give in, swinging a leg over to kick the cups and spoons, dippin dots and plastic scattering across the ice. It’s another sprawl of mess you’ll have to clean up, but it feels good to ruin something of his, no matter how inconsequential. 

The empty rink is only encouraging you, needing to scream so loud the plastic barriers crack and break. You know it’s impossible, but that doesn’t stop the urge. 

You channel it into the most aggressive warmups on ice you’ve ever done. Your spins are faster, your jumps higher. But this also means you crash heavier, fall harder. 

It’s then, sitting on the bench to take a break, breathing so heavy you can hardly sip your water, you find an unmistakable headline on your browser home page. 

Everything stops. 

!HOT TOPIC! 

SEAT AT RISK FOR SVT HOCKEY TEAM’S SHINING STAR? Read All About It Here!

Jisoo: I made this friendship bracelet for you!

Jihoon: Ah, you know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

Jisoo: You don’t have to wear it—

Jihoon: No I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

[SVT Imprinted] Wonwoo: Perfect

Anonymous asked: Hi I read your tall gf headcanons and i was wondering if you could do a oneshot for Mingyu or Wonwoo or Seungcheol? And could it be a college au but with a twist? Any kind of twist just something to make it a little different. Thank you!

Characters: Wonwoo x (tall) female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, fluff, angst, crack, some suggestive comments but it’s really tame don’t worry

Word count: 4,431

Summary: As a mate, it’s Wonwoo’s job to make sure you as his girlfriend are protected, healthy, and happy. Therefore, he’s always there to constantly remind you that he loves everything about you; including your long legs, and weird shenanigans that you always get sucked into by his pack mates.

Tags: @psshwa​

a/n: hi none of these are going to be super different, they just needed a fuck ton of editing but the stories will mostly be the same unless stated otherwise ok thank u

Next | Imprinted Masterlist

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