#‘​Odd as it may seem Mingyu has never felt so alive’ .

[maplegyu]

SADDLE UP FOLKS!!! MAPLE IS GONNA DO WHAT SHE DOES BEST: YAP

let me start by saying... kae is the sweetest letting me yap about my fiyero!mingyu agenda and just how much i loved the wicked movie... but kae is also superhuman???? LIKE HOW DID YOU COME UP WITH RIGHT AWAY UR ACTUALLY MAGIC!!!!

ALSO THIS DEDICATION WHAT IF #MAPLECRIES!!!!!!

okay (lmm voice in non-stop) LET'S GO!

disclaimer: these were all immediate reactions i copy-pasted from my notes app HAHAHAHA

🪄

FIRST OFF LISTENING TO THEE SONG WHILE READING!!!! WHAT IS THIS FEELING IS MY ULT ENEMIES TO LOVERS SONG!!!

Ok so right off the bat!!!!!!

I LAUGHED SO HARD ALREADY GOD I LOVE MINGYU HIMBO MOMENTS

This convo gOD!! this is peak!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fiyero energy 😭 this was both so funny and what is this feeling (pun intended) bUTTERFLIES???? gOD kicking my feet and squealing at the flirty banter

You shoot him a glare. He flashes you a winning smile.

SO BANE OF MY EXISTENCE CODED ughhh ik this is bridgerton but this is the jbailey cinematic universe and we're all just living in it

His hand darts out until his fingers are wrapped around your wrist. Not to bruise or control, just to draw your attention to all your exaggerated movements.

OH U BET THE SPARKS WENT OFF FOR ME

"You still can't cast a half-decent Alarte Ascendare charm—"

"And your voice cracks whenever you try to hit the high note in Dear Old Shiz—"

THE HP SHOUT OUT 😂 NOT MINGYU COMING FOR THE VOCALS 😭😂

You loathe Mingyu, and Mingyu loathes you.

OR DO YOU????

As you pull the plug on your short-lived brainstorming session, marching off towards your dormitory with a dramatic flourish, Mingyu can't help but revel in the feeling. He feels like he just ran a damn marathon, all from spending twenty minutes of bickering with you.

Odd as it may seem, Mingyu has never felt so alive.

THIS IS AS MR. DARCY/ANTHONY BRIDGERTON AS IT GETS

KAE I HOPE U NEVER GET TIRED OF ME SAYING I LOVE U MOST ARDENTLY!!! COS HOLY SHIT THIS PART IS WHERE I AM BEWITCHED BODY AND SOUL!!!!!!!!!! (i'll never stop quoting these when appropriate)

okay but me as reader: *saves all his pics*

UM ALSO THE "ITS ONLY HALFTIME" PLS TELL ME THAT WAS A HADES REFERENCE

“It was your idea,” you point out. “So you start us off.”

Ah. Mingyu knows you’ll tear him a new one if he tells you the truth, which is that he didn’t really think he’d get this far.

He was fully prepared for the two of you to disagree until the deadline, or to perhaps start groveling at Madame Morrible’s feet for a new partner.

With this half-baked idea, though, the two of you are more likely to have to see this affair to completion.

“Right.” Mingyu squares his shoulders, eyeing the flowers atop the table. “I suppose we could, er, start with some basic curses.”

There’s a Cheshire cat-like grin on your face that Mingyu doesn’t like one bit. He steels himself for the blow, which inevitably lands in you saying, “You have no idea what we’re supposed to do.”

JUST SOMETHING ABOUT THIS WHOLE SCENE WAS SO YUMMY TO READ???? IDK IF ITS WEIRD TO DESCRIBE IT THAT WAY???? BUT IT WAS SO SATISFYING FOR ME FOR BOTH PARTIES!!!!

"Blah, blah, blah,” you drawl. “Ethics, insight, got it. But application? What about that, Kim?”

Mingyu has to bite back a curse from slipping past his lips. You’re so infuriating. He wants to wipe that smug look off of your face, though he isn’t exactly sure how he might go about that just yet.

“Maybe you want to contribute something,” he grumbles, his lower lip jutting out in an almost-pout. “I already came up with the idea of the project, sweets.”

CAN YALL KISS ALREADY DAMN!!!!!!!!!

There's nothing Mingyu hates more, really, than the reminder of just how good you are. The two of you were academic monsters to begin with, though you had your respective strengths and weaknesses. Mingyu excelled in theories; you dominated practice.

— but Mingyu is only half-listening.

I loved reading this part!!! Something about it made me so proud of them? like that is my power couple your ozness!!!!!

His eyes keep flitting to your quivering fingertips. His own hands twitch in his lap.

It’s a sudden feeling. It’s a new feeling.

Mingyu never thought he’d care for you, and yet here he is with his aborted attempt to reach out, to soothe, to comfort.

OH GOD HERE WE GO ITS HAPPENING

[REDACTED REACTION ONLY KAE CAN SEE]

I FFUCIKMG SCREAMEEDDDDDD

I WOULDVE BEEN LIKE I LOVE U TOO

HELLO??????????? TA[redacted] IS INSANE 😭😭😭

Someplace else— with someone else— the electricity crackling between the two of you might have been sexual tension.

- that someplace: maplegyu and xinganhao's discussions HAHAHAHA

At the last moment, he clenches his hand into a fist and draws back.

I hope u know this is what i imagined!!!!!!!!!!

Everything from "It's because it's you." until "Right. That adds up." was a rollercoaster of emotions. THIS IS ALR ANGST FOR MAPLE

“Thank you,” you say.

Plain, simple, unadorned. No explanation. It could be grace for the water. Grace for the break. Grace for the partnership. Mingyu doesn’t know, doesn’t care. He’ll take what you have to give.

His mind tries to conjure the perfect response, one that might have you feeling the same way that he is. No problem or you’re welcome or it’s just me, sunshine.

What he eventually settles on is an exhale of “Always.”

IM NOT OKAY I WAS NOT BREATHING GOD THIS WAS TOO GOOD I LOVE HIM I LOVE THEM

Mingyu loathed you in theory, but in practice? Well.

IM GONNA PULL MY FUCKING HAIR OUT

WHY THE FUCK DID I GASP OUT LOUD THIS WAS IN THE SUMMARY FUCKIN HELL

edit: it was not in the summary! MY GASP IS VALID!!!!!!

OKAY WELL CAN I EXPECT PART 2 NEXT YEAR???????? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

unadulterated loathing! 🪄 mingyu x reader.

madame moribble's sorcery seminar has space for only two students this semester. you're forced to make a case for yourself with the one person you despise the most: kim mingyu.

★ shiz university students!mingyu x reader. ★ smau with some fic work. word count for the fic: 2,800~ ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: modern shiz university, inspired by wicked, academic rivals, forced proximity, use of pet names, feelings realization/denial. cussing/name-calling in the spirit of bickering. this only draws from the setting of the wicked, so the given plot (i.e. wicked witch) doesn't exist here; prior knowledge of wicked is not necessary to understand the story. title is from what is this feeling. ★ footnotes: wrote this in one deranged sitting, but this is an early christmas gift for my favorite gyuldaengie, @maplegyu! 🎁 not quite the fiyero!mingyu agenda we have, but still in the same verse. ilysb. ♡

Mingyu has spent the better half of his years in Shiz going toe to toe with you.

It's to be expected, really. The two of you are the brightest of your age, tearing through your academics with ruthless precision. He always raises his hand in class. You can recite book passages word for word.

Both of you are hard to ignore, and neither of you are about to back down.

This application for the coveted Sorcery Seminar is yet another curveball that you two must navigate. You would think that after the disastrous Life Science group work in freshman year— or the Runes incident in sophomore year— that the higher-ups would know better than to force you and Mingyu into any sort of proximity.

But Madame Morrible seems intent on getting the last laugh, and Mingyu will go down swinging, if he must.

That doesn't mean he can't have a little fun, though. He shows up at the Quad at exactly five in the afternoon, making his leisurely way towards you. Everything about him is seemingly perfect. His pressed, navy blazer. His coifed dark hair.

Even the way he carries himself— practically swaggering to where you're waiting, less-than-amused— has people making way for him.

"Why the long face?" Mingyu asks sweetly in lieu of a greeting.

Your answer is curt, bordering cold. "Nothing."

Youch. "Ice queen," Mingyu mumbles under his breath as he settles onto the bench next to you.

You shoot him a glare. He flashes you a winning smile.

This was the nature of your 'relationship', or admitted lack thereof. It was a push-and-pull of Mingyu getting on your nerves every so often, of him testing how far he can draw it out before you crack.

You had your moments, though, where you could also drive him up the metaphorical wall. Like this afternoon, for instance.

You talk over him more than once. You shoot down every single idea he proposes. And you keep shifting restlessly— prompting your knee to bump into his, your elbow to hit his ribs.

When you accidentally step on the tips of his shoes in your animated, passionate denial of his nth concept, Mingyu has had just about enough.

His hand darts out until his fingers are wrapped around your wrist. Not to bruise or control, just to draw your attention to all your exaggerated movements.

"Could you stop that?" he hisses, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "I swear to the Wizard, I'm going to come out of this meeting battered and bruised."

You coo at him in retaliation, your voice sickly sweet. "Aw, what is it? Gyu-Gyu of Gillkins can't handle a little roughhousing?"

Oh, it's like that? Mingyu lets out a derisive huff before dropping your hand. You give him the small concession of scooting a bit further down the bench, putting some much-needed distance between the two of you.

Mingyu's not about to let your little jab slide, though. "You talk big game for someone who goes running in the other direction whenever there's a spider around," he says wryly.

Your response is defensive, sending the two of you shuttling down your typical back-and-forth. "That was one time! Might I remind you that you once thought river fairies were mayflies?"

"Bringing up stuff from freshman year, huh? I vaguely recall you mixing up Bunbury and Bunnybury for years—"

"You still can't cast a half-decent Alarte Ascendare charm—"

"And your voice cracks whenever you try to hit the high note in Dear Old Shiz—"

"Okay, enough!"

Mingyu presses his lips tight in a poor attempt to hide his smirk. Your expression is positively murderous, contorted in one of sheer annoyance.

No, annoyance is too light of a word, too generous of a feeling. Your flushed face and Mingyu's jackhammer pulse are not mere products of some petty vexation, some harmless flirtation.

It's unadulterated loathing. True, deep loathing; total detestation.

You loathe Mingyu, and Mingyu loathes you.

As you pull the plug on your short-lived brainstorming session, marching off towards your dormitory with a dramatic flourish, Mingyu can't help but revel in the feeling. He feels like he just ran a damn marathon, all from spending twenty minutes of bickering with you.

Odd as it may seem, Mingyu has never felt so alive.

Even though you don't say it, Mingyu knows you think his idea is good.

He can see it in your acquiescence, in the way you let him run his mouth just a little more. He wants to preen over getting this little upper-hand, no matter how insignificant it may be. The two of you are working on something he suggested.

You can call him all the nasty names in the book, but your begrudging acceptance is like a trophy to him.

It's why he's so cheery as the two of you reconvene to flesh out the project. You're benevolent enough to let Mingyu wax poetics about cursed objects being integral to Oz's landscape, though you keep him from rambling when he tries to position himself as the more brilliant one between the two of you.

"Don't get cocky," you warn as you lay out the material you'll be working on for the day.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Mingyu shoots back, though he does give in and shut up for once. He's not about to push his luck. It's only half-time, after all, and he has a whole lot more of winning to do.

The two of you had agreed on flowers. For a moment, neither of you do anything about the assortment of blooms laid out on the desk in front of you. It takes Mingyu a beat too long to realize that you're looking up at him.

"What?" His free hand— the one not holding his practice wand— reaches up to his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

The unamused glare you give him almost makes him chuckle.

"It was your idea," you point out. "So you start us off."

Ah. Mingyu knows you'll tear him a new one if he tells you the truth, which is that he didn't really think he'd get this far.

He was fully prepared for the two of you to disagree until the deadline, or to perhaps start groveling at Madame Morrible's feet for a new partner.

With this half-baked idea, though, the two of you are more likely to have to see this affair to completion.

"Right." Mingyu squares his shoulders, eyeing the flowers atop the table. "I suppose we could, er, start with some basic curses."

There's a Cheshire cat-like grin on your face that Mingyu doesn't like one bit. He steels himself for the blow, which inevitably lands in you saying, "You have no idea what we're supposed to do."

He scrunches up his nose in an expression of mock displeasure. "We're going to show off practical knowledge of enchantments," he rattles off. "Provide insight into the ethical implications of magical creations. Equip sorcerers with problem-solving skills necessitated by—"

You cut into Mingyu's tirade with a dismissive wave of your own wand.

"Blah, blah, blah," you drawl. "Ethics, insight, got it. But application? What about that, Kim?"

Mingyu has to bite back a curse from slipping past his lips. You're so infuriating. He wants to wipe that smug look off of your face, though he isn't exactly sure how he might go about that just yet.

"Maybe you want to contribute something," he grumbles, his lower lip jutting out in an almost-pout. "I already came up with the idea of the project, sweets."

Anyone else who might've been on the receiving end of Mingyu's pet names might have swooned. You always bristled, acting like he had uttered something vile.

Today, you remain perfectly unperturbed, content to have Mingyu squirm as you roll up the sleeves of your school blouse.

"Watch and weep," you say, your wand poised over the flowers.

There's nothing Mingyu hates more, really, than the reminder of just how good you are. The two of you were academic monsters to begin with, though you had your respective strengths and weaknesses. Mingyu excelled in theories; you dominated practice.

In some alternate universe, the two of you might have been an unstoppable duo. As it is, though, Mingyu can only hope that your fragile truce will hold long enough to secure you both that class slot.

He tries his darndest to keep his awe at bay as you mumble incantations. The curses you leave on the flowers seem to be mostly minor.

The daisy's leaves begin to flutter like propellers. The carnation starts to rapidly change colors. The rose goes through a constant process of wilting and rebirth, the dried petals pooling on the table with each cycle.

When Mingyu steals a glance at you, he notices the sweat beading your temples. Magic took a lot out of a person, and to cast three spells in a row was no joke.

"First, we should do a magical construction analysis." Your voice is a little tighter, a little more strained. Probably from the exhaustion. "And then a de-cursing process. Strategies and techniques for reversing or neutralizing the curse."

You go on to talk about how your demonstration for Madame Morrible should go— something about a live reversal or containment of a curse, and a detailed explanation of their findings— but Mingyu is only half-listening.

His eyes keep flitting to your quivering fingertips. His own hands twitch in his lap.

It's a sudden feeling. It's a new feeling.

Mingyu never thought he'd care for you, and yet here he is with his aborted attempt to reach out, to soothe, to comfort.

In between piles of schoolwork and preparations for the demonstration, Mingyu hardly has any time to notice the shifts in your relationship. You don't seem any the wiser, either, which is saying something. You tended to have a better emotional quotient than his overdramatic self, anyhow.

But there are shifts. Small changes in the day to day that are imperceptible to the less-discerning eye.

The two of you remain cutthroat in the classroom, drawing your peers' ire with your relentless rivalry. Behind closed doors, though, there's something more akin to… civility?

Mingyu wouldn't dare call it friendship. He's not that naive. He just knows there's an ounce of kindness, now. Some self-imposed restraint, some begrudging respect.

As the two of you move on to executing more complicated curses, the changing dynamic bears down in the most glaring ways.

"Enough."

The word comes out as a wheeze, but Mingyu injects it with just enough authority to have you pause. You don't look any better than he does. You're folded in half, your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath.

The spell that neither of you could conjure just yet involved a hand mirror and an ancient curse. So far, all the two of you have managed is to make the mirror sing.

"Let's— take a break," Mingyu offers.

Your response is to be expected. "I don't need a break. I need to get this stupid curse right."

A muscle in Mingyu's jaw jumps. He stares down at you with a look of sheer incredulity, and you only return his glare with a defiant one of your own. Someplace else— with someone else— the electricity crackling between the two of you might have been sexual tension.

Alas, Mingyu knows it's nothing more than your shared animosity.

… Right?

He breaks the silence with a mumble of, "I need a break. Give me five minutes."

Honestly, Mingyu could keep going. He thinks he has it in him to try and cast the spell a couple more times, but he's willing to look weak if it means getting you to pause.

You don't even have a snappy retort or a smartass insult to his declaration. All you give is a jerky nod of your head before you lumber off towards the nearest chair in the otherwise-empty classroom. A peculiar expression flashes across Mingyu's face as he watches you walk, almost like every step that you take is an effort. You miss the look in favor of practically collapsing on to one of the desks.

"Wizard Almighty," Mingyu cusses lowly. He reaches your side in a couple of strides, though he pauses with his hand hovering over your shoulder.

At the last moment, he clenches his hand into a fist and draws back.

"Is this seminar class really worth dying for?" he muses, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"I'm not— dying," you choke out. "I just need— a—"

There's an edge of exasperation in Mingyu's tone. "You need a break. It's just me. You can admit that."

Before you can shoot back, Mingyu wanders off to his backpack. He digs through it for a moment before he can procure his water bottle, which he wordlessly places onto the desk you're on.

You give a quiet sound of appreciation before uncorking the bottle and taking a long swig. The rehydration seems to invigorate you in the slightest, enough for you to straighten to your full height. Mingyu holds back on teasing you over the way you've emptied his drink.

The first words you say after you've caught your breath are "It's because it's you."

Mingyu's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He tilts his head to one side, looking every bit like the confused puppy he's often likened to. "Pardon?"

"You said— I can admit that I need a break, because it's just you." You place Mingyu's water bottle down, your hands bracing the edge of the desk as you speak. You're looking up at Mingyu, but you're not quite looking at him. It's like your gaze is fixed on something just beyond his line of sight, and it hits him that you're avoiding his gaze.

You clarify, "I didn't want to admit that I needed a break to you."

His immediate reaction is to protest. To laugh and call you stupid, to question your faulty logic. But when Mingyu's lips part, the insult at the very tip of his tongue—

He finds that his words are just out of reach.

Because, for better or for worse, he understands where you're coming from. The two of you have exploited each other's weaknesses, have poked and prodded holes into each other's defenses. Why should this be any different?

There's an inexplicable twinge in Mingyu's chest. A tangible, physical tightening, over the spot where his heart is.

He had wanted it to be different. He doesn't know why, but he thought that this might make things different.

Instead, he manages to push out a heatless, "Right. That adds up."

Neither of you say anything for a while. The five-minute break stretches into seven, then ten. Right before the fifteen-minute mark, you say, "I think we should call it a day."

Mingyu— who has spent the past quarter of an hour trying to untangle his thoughts— jumps at the suggestion.

"Definitely," he says a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah. Let's… tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Same time?"

"Got it."

You gather your things and begin to make your way out of the classroom. Mingyu moves a little slower, not wanting to have to prolong any conversation if the two of you were to leave together.

He thinks he'll never have an answer to the question clanging in his mind until you pause halfway out of the door.

"Kim Mingyu."

He freezes in the middle of adjusting his bag strap over his shoulder. "Hm?" he hums, trying his best to act noncommittal even though his entire posture is already defensive in nature.

The sight of it seems to amuse you, because the ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. It's not a smile that you've ever given him. He's seen it in the corner of his eye, witnessed you dole it out to underclassmen and friends. And maybe he's always been a bit envious, a bit desperate to be on the receiving end of it.

Now that he is, he feels like he just got punched in the gut.

"Thank you," you say.

Plain, simple, unadorned. No explanation. It could be grace for the water. Grace for the break. Grace for the partnership. Mingyu doesn't know, doesn't care. He'll take what you have to give.

His mind tries to conjure the perfect response, one that might have you feeling the same way that he is. No problem or you're welcome or it's just me, sunshine.

What he eventually settles on is an exhale of "Always."

He wants to kick himself for it. Who the hell says 'always' to 'thank you'? a chiding voice screams in the back of his head. What does that even mean?!

He winces outwardly. Your smile widens slightly, just enough to throw him off balance once again.

And then you're gone, your footsteps echoing down Shiz' hall, leaving Mingyu with the answer.

Mingyu loathed you in theory, but in practice? Well.

He's so caught up in trying to unpack his realization that he nearly misses the quiet ping of his phone in his pocket.