#Seventeen x OC

[amyzworldds]

honestly the jeonghan losing 14th member fic you just posted got me thinking

like imagine if this time it was cheol that lost her 💀

Title: Night Market Chaos

Masterlist | Part 2

Seungcheol takes Y/N to his hometown on Seventeen’s day off, where her chaos—overpacking, pampering his dog Kkuma, and stickering his car—spirals from a midnight ice cream run to a night market. Pairing: Seventeen (tired leadernim Scoups) x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Humor

Months had zipped by since Y/N’s Tokyo cat-and-dog fiasco, and today was a rare day off for Seventeen. Most members had scattered to their family homes—Jeonghan lounging at his parents’, Hoshi probably terrorizing his siblings with tiger impressions, and Woozi hoarding Coke Zero in peace. Y/N, though, was stuck at the dorm, her globe-trotting parents off on some romantic world tour, leaving her under Seungcheol’s watchful eye. He’d decided to drag her to his hometown rather than risk her torching the dorm solo. “Leave her alone?” he’d muttered to himself earlier. “She’d burn it to ashes—or adopt a zoo!”

Inside her room, Y/N was packing like she was moving to Antarctica for a year, not just crashing at Seungcheol’s parents’ place for three days. Two bulging suitcases sat open—one stuffed with clothes, the other a chaotic explosion of chips, candies, trinkets, and—inexplicably—dog toys and a bag of premium kibble. She hummed happily, tossing in a pack of gummy worms, oblivious to the storm about to hit.

Seungcheol poked his head in, expecting a sensible duffel bag, and froze. “What in the—Y/N, what are you doing?!” he barked, startling her so badly she dropped a bag of sour candies, which burst open and scattered across the floor like colorful shrapnel.

“Coups oppa!” she yelped, clutching her chest. “Don’t sneak up like that—I almost died!” She grinned, recovering fast, and hoisted a suitcase. “Look, I’m ready! This one’s full of chips and candies—your parents are gonna love me! I’m their snack angel!”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened as he peeked inside—Doritos, Skittles, gummy bears, a rogue chocolate bar melting into a sock. “My parents don’t need a sugar coma!” he said, snatching the bag and dumping it on her bed. “What’s all this other junk?!”

Y/N beamed, undeterred, and yanked out a handful of dog toys—squeaky bones, a rubber ball, even a tiny tiara. “These are for Kkuma! Your dog’s gonna adore me more than you! Check this out—premium kibble, cute dresses, and hair clips! She’ll be the fanciest pup in town!”

Seungcheol stared, jaw slack. “Kkuma doesn’t need a wardrobe! She’s a dog, not a Barbie! And why do you have enough food to feed a pack for a month?!”

“Because I’m winning her over!” Y/N declared, holding up a frilly pink dress. “She’ll love me best—sorry, Coups oppa, I’m the new favorite! Plus, I’m prepared for anything!”

He rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out. “Prepared for what? We’re staying three days, not three years!” He rifled through her other suitcase—jeans, hoodies, a sparkly skirt, five pairs of sneakers. “Why do you have half your closet in here?!”

Y/N laughed, twirling a trinket-laden keychain. “What if your mom and dad love me so much they beg me to stay forever? ‘Oh, Y/N, you’re our daughter now—don’t leave!’ I gotta be ready! Plus, Eomma and Appa adore me—you know it!”

Seungcheol groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t wrong—his parents did adore her. As the youngest with only a older brother, Seungcheol’s family had no daughters, so they’d latched onto Y/N like she was their long-lost princess. She called them “Eomma” and “Appa,” was in their family group chat (where she sent daily memes), and got spoiled rotten—homemade meals, extra blankets, even a stash of her favorite snacks at their house. Last time they’d called, his mom had asked, “Where’s Y/N-ie? Tell her to visit soon!” while his dad chimed in, “She’s more fun than you, Cheol-ah!”

“Yeah, yeah, they love you,” he grumbled, tossing a candy bag back at her. “But you’re not moving in! Three days—no trinket invasion, no dog fashion shows. Are you ready or what? I need to load the car—I’m driving, not hauling a candy store!”

“Ready!” she chirped, zipping her bags with a flourish. “But I’m keeping the dog stuff—Kkuma’s my VIP! And if Eomma and Appa adopt me, you’re stuck with me forever!”

“They won’t,” he shot back, grabbing a suitcase. “And if they try, I’m disowning you all!”

“They’d pick me over you!” she teased, lugging the other bag. “I’m cuter—and I come with snacks!”

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The car ride was a comedy of errors. Y/N insisted on shotgun, her trinkets jangling as she fiddled with the radio, blasting Seventeen songs and singing off-key. “Coups oppa, sing with me! ‘Hot, hot, hot!’”

“No!” he barked, swatting her hand from the volume. “I’m driving, not auditioning!”

“Boo, you’re no fun!” she pouted, then gasped, digging into her bag. “Oh, I forgot—I got Kkuma a bow tie! She’s gonna slay!”

“She’s a dog, not a runway model!” Seungcheol groaned, but a smirk tugged at his lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously lovable!” she corrected, dangling the bow tie in his face. “Admit it—Eomma and Appa will crown me their princess by day two!”

“Day two, I’m locking you in the garage,” he muttered, swerving to avoid her flailing trinket hands.

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The car hummed along the highway, Seungcheol gripping the wheel with the focus of a man determined not to let Y/N turn his hometown trip into a disaster movie. She’d already commandeered the radio, belting “HOT, HOT, HOT!” off-key until he’d threatened to duct-tape her mouth shut. Now, she sat in the passenger seat, suspiciously quiet, rummaging in her small backpack with a smirk that screamed trouble.

Last week, Y/N had stumbled across a TikTok trend—girls plastering their dads’ or boyfriends’ car dashboards with glittery, girly stickers: hearts, stars, unicorns, the works. She’d cackled at the screen, plotting her own twist. With no boyfriend and her parents off gallivanting, she’d turned her sights on her ultimate victim: Seungcheol. She’d gone full chaotic gremlin, ordering a stash of stickers online—sparkly nonsense, plus custom ones with her face and “Y/N THE QUEEN” in bold pink letters. They’d arrived just in time, hidden in her bag like a glitter bomb waiting to detonate.

They hit a drive-thru—Y/N had whined nonstop about her burger cravings, “Coups oppa, I’m starving! My stomach’s eating itself—get me a burger or I’ll haunt you!” Seungcheol, desperate for peace, pulled up to the window, rattling off their order: “Two burgers, fries, a Coke—make it quick, she’s driving me nuts!”

That’s when Y/N struck. With Seungcheol distracted, she whipped out her sticker sheets, grinning like a supervillain. “Time for art!” she whispered, peeling off a glittery heart and slapping it onto the dashboard with a satisfying thwack. Then a star. Then a custom “Y/N THE QUEEN” sticker—her tiny face winking up from the console. She giggled maniacally, sticking faster, a sparkly invasion spreading across the pristine black interior.

Seungcheol finished ordering—“No pickles on hers, she’ll riot!”—and glanced over, expecting Y/N to be scrolling her phone. Instead, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. The dashboard was a glittery warzone—hearts, stars, and her smug little face staring back at him in triplicate. “Y/N, WHAT THE HELL?!” he bellowed, pinching his nose so hard he looked like he might implode.

She froze, mid-stick, a unicorn dangling from her fingers, and flashed a proud grin. “Look, Coups oppa! It’s my masterpiece! Your car’s a Y/N shrine now—cute, right?”

“Cute?!” he wheezed, voice hitting a pitch only dogs could hear. “You turned my car into a Barbie dreamhouse! Get those off—NOW!”

“Nope!” she chirped, dodging his swat and slapping a sticker on his cheek—a glittery “Y/N” sparkling under his eye. “You’re part of the art too! Smile, oppa—it’s trending!”

Seungcheol’s glare could’ve melted steel, but Y/N was unstoppable. She plastered stickers like a madwoman—dashboard, steering wheel, even the gearshift sprouted a winking Y/N face. He shook his head, muttering, “I can’t stop her. She’s a sticker demon. Why me?!”

The drive-thru worker handed over the food, peering in with a smirk. “Nice decor, man,” he said, eyeing the glitter explosion. Seungcheol snatched the bags, growling, “Don’t encourage her!”

Y/N paused only to grab her burger, munching happily as she stuck a rainbow on the passenger door. “Mmm, burger’s good—stickers are better!” she mumbled, slapping a “QUEEN Y/N” onto the window with a ketchup-smeared finger.

“You’re insane!” Seungcheol roared, peeling the sticker off his cheek—only for her to replace it with a sparkly cat. “Stop it! This is my car, not your scrapbook!”

“Too late!” she cackled, burger in one hand, sticker in the other. “It’s a Y/N-mobile now! Eomma and Appa will love it—Kkuma too!”

The dashboard was a lost cause—every inch glittered with hearts, stars, and her face, the passenger door now a mosaic of unicorns and “Y/N THE QUEEN.” Seungcheol’s hands twitched on the wheel, visions of peeling it all off dancing in his head, but Y/N’s glee was contagious—and infuriating. “You’re cleaning this up when we get back!” he snapped, burger untouched as he mourned his dignity.

“Nah, it’s permanent!” she teased, sticking a final “Y/N” on his forehead mid-bite. “You’re my canvas, oppa—deal with it!”

He swerved, nearly spilling fries, and yanked the sticker off, tossing it out the window. “That’s it—I’m locking you in the trunk with your dog toys!”

“Try it!” she laughed, smearing ketchup on a heart sticker and planting it on his arm. “You love me too much!”

“Love’s a strong word right now!” he bellowed, but a snort escaped—her chaos was absurdly endearing, even as his car screamed “Y/N” from every angle.

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Seungcheol’s parents’ house, once a peaceful haven of quiet dinners and sensible decor, had morphed into a full-blown Y/N shrine within hours of their arrival. The living room? Trinket central—her glittery charms dangled from lamps, her bunny plushie perched on the couch like a throne. The kitchen? A Y/N feast zone, where his mom bustled around, cooking up a storm of her favorites—spicy tteokbokki, kimbap, and a towering stack of japchae. Not a single dish was Seungcheol’s beloved galbi or kimchi jjigae. He slumped in his room, joystick in hand, muttering, “At least I can game in peace while they worship her.”

Downstairs, chaos reigned. Y/N had Kkuma in her clutches, the little dog decked out like a pageant queen—pink frilly dress, sparkly hair clips, even a tiny tiara teetering on her fluffy head. “Kkuma, my princess!” Y/N squealed, smushing the pup’s face with kisses so aggressive Seungcheol’s dad had to duck flying drool. “You’re my VIP now—sorry, Coups oppa, she’s mine!”

Kkuma yipped, tail wagging like a metronome on overdrive, and didn’t even glance at Seungcheol when they’d walked in. Normally, she’d barrel into his legs, but this time? Straight to Y/N, who scooped her up like a long-lost soulmate, cooing, “Mama’s here, baby! Did you miss me?!” Seungcheol had stood there, arms crossed, muttering, “Traitor dog—I raised you!”

Now, at the dinner table, the real comedy unfolded. His mom piled Y/N’s plate high—tteokbokki spilling over the edges, japchae forming a noodle mountain, kimbap stacked like a Jenga tower. “Eat up, Y/N-ie!” she beamed, spooning more onto the pile. “You need energy for all your fun!”

His dad joined in, plopping a fish cake onto the heap. “Our girl’s gotta stay strong—look how cute she is, Cheol-ah!”

Seungcheol stared at his own plate—two measly kimbap rolls and a sad spoonful of soup—and whined, “Hey, I’m the real son here! Where’s my food?! You’re burying her in japchae while I’m starving!”

Y/N grinned, mouth full of tteokbokki, sauce smeared on her chin. “Eomma and Appa love me more, oppa! Accept it—I’m the golden child now!”

“Golden child?!” Seungcheol sputtered, nearly choking on his soup. “You’re a gremlin they adopted five minutes ago! Mom, Dad, I’m your actual kid—feed me!”

His mom laughed, patting Y/N’s head. “Oh, Cheol-ah, don’t be jealous! Y/N-ie’s our little princess—she needs pampering!”

“Pampering?!” he yelped, pointing at her plate. “That’s a food avalanche! She’ll explode, and I’ll get, what, crumbs?!”

His dad chuckled, tossing Y/N another fish cake. “She’s more fun than you, son—look at her with Kkuma! You just sit there brooding!”

“Brooding?!” Seungcheol wailed, flailing his chopsticks. “I’m resting! I dragged her here to save the dorm from burning down, and now I’m the bad guy?!”

Y/N swallowed a kimbap roll whole, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Face it, Coups oppa—Eomma, Appa, and Kkuma picked me! I’m the MVP!” She leaned down, smooching Kkuma—who’d parked herself at Y/N’s feet, tiara askew—right on the snout. “Right, my queen? You love me best!”

Kkuma barked, licking Y/N’s face, and Seungcheol threw his hands up. “Unbelievable! My own dog’s defected! I’m calling animal control—she’s brainwashed you, Kkuma!”

His mom swatted him with a spatula, laughing. “Stop it, Cheol-ah—she’s adorable! Look at that dress—she’s never been this fancy!”

“Fancy?!” Seungcheol howled, eyeing Kkuma’s pink monstrosity. “She looks like a rejected idol costume! Y/N, take that off her—she’s embarrassed!”

“She loves it!” Y/N shot back, clipping a glittery bow onto Kkuma’s tail. “She’s slaying—way better than you in that boring hoodie!”

His dad snorted, nearly dropping his chopsticks. “She’s got you there, son—Kkuma’s got more style now!”

Seungcheol groaned, sinking into his chair. “I’m living in a nightmare. My parents, my dog—everyone’s Team Y/N!”

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Upstairs, he’d retreated to his room, the sounds of Y/N’s laughter and Kkuma’s yips echoing through the house. He fired up his video game, muttering, “Finally, some peace—let them spoil her ‘til she bursts.” Deep down, though? He couldn’t stay mad. Y/N’s chaos lit up the place—his parents’ faces glowed with joy, and even Kkuma’s over-the-top outfits were kinda hilarious. She was his little sister, stickers and all, and her antics—however maddening—made every room a circus he secretly loved.

Downstairs, Y/N staged a “fashion show,” parading Kkuma around the living room, his mom clapping like a proud stage mom. “Next look—Kkuma in sparkly clips!” Y/N announced, pinning a rhinestone barrette to the dog’s ear.

“She’s a superstar!” his dad cheered, snapping pics. “Cheol-ah, come see this!”

“I’m good!” Seungcheol yelled back, but peeked out his door, snorting at the sight—Kkuma strutting like she’d auditioned for Seventeen. “Ridiculous,” he muttered, but a grin crept up. “She’s gonna demand a solo next.”

Dinner ended with Y/N sprawled on the couch, Kkuma on her lap, his parents fussing over her like she’d hung the moon. Seungcheol shuffled down, plopping beside her with a fake scowl. “You’re a menace—you stole my family!”

“And your dog!” she teased, booping Kkuma’s nose. “Admit it, oppa—you’re obsessed with me!”

“Obsessed with locking you in a closet!” he shot back, but ruffled her hair, laughing. “Fine, you win—just don’t sticker the house next!”

“No promises!” she sang, pulling a glittery “Y/N” sticker from her pocket and slapping it on his forehead.

His parents howled with laughter as Seungcheol flailed, “Get it off! I’m not your canvas!”—but it was too late. The Y/N takeover was complete, and his once-quiet house was a riot of love, chaos, and one very fabulous dog.

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Midnight draped Seungcheol’s parents’ house in a rare hush—well, almost. The guest room, now Y/N’s chaotic domain, glowed faintly with the light of Seungcheol’s laptop, which she’d “borrowed” earlier with a “Pretty please, oppa? I forgot mine!” His parents had already turned the room into her personal palace—new fluffy blankets, a bunny-shaped pillow, even a plush bunny sleeper they’d bought “just for their Y/N-ie.” Her clothes spilled out of suitcases, trinkets jangled from the bedframe, and Seungcheol had surrendered, muttering, “As long as she leaves me alone to game, she can sticker the whole room for all I care.” Spoiler: she’d already slapped a glittery “Y/N” on his laptop lid.

Y/N, wide awake in her bunny sleeper—ears flopping over her face—was sprawled on the bed, binge-watching some drama on the laptop, cackling at the screen. “This guy’s dumber than Hoshi trying to cook!” she snorted, but her stomach growled, cutting through her giggles. She paused the show, peering around the too-quiet house. The living room lights were off, the silence eerie—no Kkuma yips, no parental chatter. She shuffled to the big window, pressing her nose to the glass. The moon hung huge and glowing, practically begging her to step outside.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” she whispered, eyes sparkling. “No people, big moon—prime midnight vibes! I need ice cream—now!” Her mind raced—night walks were her thing, a secret joy where the world felt hers alone, and food tasted like freedom. She glanced toward Seungcheol’s room, then back at the moon, gears turning. “He’s always grounding me for sneaking out with the others—Dino, Hoshi, Jeonghan—but I’ve never dragged him out! He doesn’t get why it’s so fun!”

A devilish grin spread across her face. “Time to enlighten Appa Coups—by force!” She tiptoed to his door, her bunny slippers squeaking faintly, and peeked in. There he was, hunched over his gaming setup, headset on, muttering at the screen—“Die, you pixel jerk!”—oblivious to her plotting. She plopped onto his bed with a dramatic bounce, making him jump.

“What now?!” he snapped, pausing his game and spinning around, eyes narrowing at her bunny-eared silhouette. “It’s midnight—go sleep, gremlin!”

Y/N grinned, unfazed, and leaned in with her best puppy eyes—big, watery, weaponized cuteness. “Coups oppaaaa, let’s go outside! The moon’s huge, the air’s crisp, and I’m starving for ice cream! You’ve never come with me at night—you don’t get why I love it! Come on, just once!”

“No way!” he barked, turning back to his screen. “I’m not sneaking out like some delinquent—you’re grounded from that life, remember? Swing incident? Tokyo cats? I’m not risking it!”

“But that’s the point!” she whined, flopping onto his pillow like a dying fish. “You’ve never seen why I do it! The world’s different at night—no fans, no chaos, just us and the vibes! Ice cream tastes better at midnight—I swear it’s science! You’ll love it!”

“Love it?!” he snorted, mashing buttons. “I love sleep—and not chasing you through the streets! Go eat leftovers or something!”

She sat up, dialing up the drama, clutching her bunny ears like a tragic heroine. “Leftovers?! Oppa, you’d let your poor little sister starve? I’m wasting away—look at me, skin and bones!” She pinched her perfectly healthy cheek, pouting harder. “You don’t understand ‘cause you’ve never tried it! One walk, one ice cream, and you’ll see—please, please, pleeeease?”

Seungcheol groaned, headset slipping. “You’re not starving—you ate half the kitchen at dinner! And stop with the eyes—I’m immune!”

“Immune?!” she gasped, scooting closer, eyes now glistening like she’d rehearsed this in a mirror. “You’re breaking my heart, oppa! I’m your baby sister, your pride and joy—don’t you wanna bond with me? What if I trip outside alone and die ‘cause you said no? You’ll cry at my funeral—‘Oh, if only I’d gone for ice cream!’”

“Die?!” he sputtered, spinning to face her fully. “You’re not dying—you’re a cockroach, you’d survive a nuclear blast! And we’re not bonding over a midnight sugar run!”

She smirked, sensing his defenses cracking, and unleashed her secret weapon—gaslighting. “Oh, I get it—you’re scared! Big tough Coups oppa’s afraid of the dark! What if a stray cat jumps you? Or a moth? You’d scream like a baby!”

“Scared?!” he roared, nearly toppling his chair. “I’m not scared—I’m sane! You’re the one who’d adopt the cat and sticker it to death!”

“Prove it then!” she challenged, hopping up and tugging his arm. “Come with me—just ten minutes! Ice cream, moon vibes, and I’ll shut up all night! You’ll thank me when you taste how magical it is!”

He shook his head, muttering, “She’s insane—certifiable,” but her puppy eyes drilled into his soul, and her logic—twisted as it was—wormed in. “Fine!” he barked, yanking off his headset. “Ten minutes, one ice cream, and you’re done—no whining after!”

“YES!” she squealed, fist-pumping so hard her bunny ears flopped. “You won’t regret it, oppa—I’m your midnight guru now!”

“I already regret it,” he grumbled, grabbing a hoodie as she bounced to the door. “If Mom and Dad wake up, you’re explaining this!”

“Deal!” she sang, already plotting. “Wait ‘til you see the moon—it’s basically my spotlight!”

They snuck downstairs, Y/N’s slippers squeaking like a broken toy, Seungcheol hissing, “Quiet, you loud disaster!” She just grinned, tugging him outside into the crisp night air. The moon loomed huge, bathing the empty streets in silver, and Y/N twirled, arms wide. “See? Isn’t it epic? Now—ice cream hunt!”

He trudged after her, muttering, “Ten minutes, then I’m dragging you back by your bunny ears!”—but a tiny smirk betrayed him. Her chaos was infectious, and deep down, he was curious if midnight ice cream really did taste better. Another hilarious misadventure was underway!

[archivegyu]

pinky promise!

The first day of first grade felt like stepping into a vast, uncharted ocean. The classroom buzzed with the chatter of twenty small bodies finding their places in this new world of learning. Among them, a little girl with midnight black hair that had the unfortunate tendency to stick out in odd directions no matter how many times her mother brushed it down. Her large, curious eyes darted nervously around the room, taking in the colorful alphabet charts and the smiling sun cutout that greeted them from above the teacher's desk.

She clutched her backpack straps tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her mother had told her she would make friends, but looking at all the unfamiliar faces, she wasn't so sure. Some of the children already knew each other from kindergarten, forming small clusters of familiarity in this sea of uncertainty.

That was when she first saw him. A boy with warm honey-colored skin and a smile that seemed to light up the entire room. He stood a head taller than most of the other children, his brown hair neatly combed to the side. When their eyes met across the classroom, he gave her an enthusiastic wave that nearly knocked over the pencil cup on a nearby desk.

"Hi! I'm Kim Mingyu!" he announced, bounding over to her with the energy of a puppy greeting its owner after a long day apart. "Do you want to sit next to me? Mrs. Park said we can choose our seats today!"

Relief washed over her like a warm blanket. She replied softly, her voice barely audible above the classroom commotion.

Mingyu's smile grew even wider, if that was possible. "Come on, I saved us spots by the window!"

He grabbed her hand without hesitation, leading her to two empty desks bathed in morning sunlight. The wood was smooth beneath her fingertips as she slid into the chair, her feet barely touching the floor. Mingyu plopped down beside her, immediately pulling out a box of crayons that looked barely used.

"These are my special crayons," he whispered conspiratorially, sliding the box between their desks. "My mom got them for my birthday. We can share them."

The simple act of sharing something so precious made her heart swell. Throughout that first day, Mingyu's constant chatter and bright laughter eased her anxieties. He showed her where the bathroom was located, helped her open her stubborn juice box at lunch, and proudly introduced her to his friends from kindergarten.

"This is Seungcheol, and this is Joshua, and that's Hansol," he explained, pointing to each boy in turn. "And that's Jeonghan. He's really smart. And Seungkwan is really funny. And that's Wonwoo. He reads a lot of books."

She smiled shyly at each introduction, overwhelmed by the sudden expansion of her social circle.

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of their first day, She felt a twinge of sadness. What if tomorrow they weren't allowed to sit together? What if someone else took the seat next to Mingyu?

"Mingyu," she said, her voice steady despite her worry, "can we sit together again tomorrow?"

Mingyu's eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as if he was considering a profound philosophical question. "We should sit together every day," he declared solemnly. Then his face brightened. "Let's make a pinky promise!"

He extended his little finger toward her, his eyes serious despite his smile. "Pinky promise that we'll always be seat partners, no matter what."

She linked her small finger with his, the gesture feeling somehow monumental despite its simplicity. "Pinky promise," she echoed.

"Now we have to seal it," Mingyu instructed, pressing their thumbs together. "There! Now it's forever. Mom says pinky promises are stronger than superglue."

For the next three weeks, their promise remained unbroken. Each morning, Mingyu would save her seat if she arrived after him, or she would guard his chair fiercely if she got there first. They developed a routine of sharing Mingyu's special crayons, trading halves of their snacks, and whispering secrets during quiet reading time.

She learned that Mingyu wanted to be a chef when he grew up because he loved helping his grandmother in the kitchen. She told him about her cat, Midnight, who slept curled around her head every night. They compared the shapes of clouds during recess and created elaborate stories about what Mrs. Park did after school hours. (Their current theory involved her being a secret superhero who could fly.)

Then came the Monday when everything changed.

She arrived a few minutes late, her mother having struggled with a flat tire on the way to school. She rushed into the classroom, cheeks flushed and breathing hard, only to stop dead in her tracks. There, in her seat, her special seat next to Mingyu. Sat a girl with perfectly braided pigtails and a pink dress that looked like it belonged in a department store window.

Mingyu was showing the new girl his special crayons. His special crayons. The ones they shared.

"This is Sohee," Mrs. Park announced to the class. "She just moved here from Busan, and I hope you'll all make her feel welcome."

She stood frozen in the doorway, her backpack suddenly feeling too heavy on her small shoulders. Mingyu looked up, his eyes widening when he spotted her. He gave her an apologetic smile and pointed to another empty desk across the room.

With leaden feet, She made her way to the empty seat. It was near the back, far from the sunshine and Mingyu's warm presence. The desk surface was slightly sticky from some previous spill, and the chair wobbled when she sat down.

Throughout the morning, she found herself unable to concentrate on the alphabet practice. Her eyes kept drifting to Mingyu and Sohee, watching as they whispered and giggled together. Once, Mingyu looked back at her, his expression unreadable from this distance.

At recess, She sat alone under the big oak tree in the corner of the playground, her knees pulled up to her chest. She watched as Mingyu introduced Sohee to the rest of their friends, her heart feeling heavier with each passing minute.

"There you are!" Mingyu's voice startled her from her thoughts. He stood before her, slightly out of breath as if he had been running. "Why are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding," She mumbled, picking at the grass beside her.

Mingyu plopped down next to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. "You look sad. Is it because of Sohee?"

She shrugged, not trusting her voice. She hadn't expected him to be so direct.

"Mrs. Park made her sit there," Mingyu explained earnestly. "She said new students need to sit at the front so they can see better. But I told her about our pinky promise."

She looked up at him, surprised. "You did?"

Mingyu nodded vigorously. "Of course! Pinky promises are forever, remember? I told Mrs. Park that tomorrow Sohee can sit with Seungkwan because he talks too much anyway and won't mind having a new friend."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Really?"

"Really! And look what I saved for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out half a chocolate cookie wrapped in a napkin. "It's your favorite part with the most chocolate chips."

The simple gesture made, her eyes sting with unshed tears. Not sad tears, but the kind that come when something wonderful happens unexpectedly.

"I thought maybe you forgot about our promise," she admitted, accepting the cookie half.

Mingyu looked genuinely shocked. "Forget? That's not possible! Mom says that when you make a promise to someone important, you keep it forever and ever." He held up his pinky again. "Want to do it again? Extra strong this time?"

She linked her pinky with his, the familiar gesture now carrying even more significance. "Forever seat partners," she promised.

"Forever," Mingyu agreed, pressing their thumbs together to seal the pact once more.

The next day, She arrived early to find Mingyu already at their window seats, both desks cleared and ready. Sohee was indeed sitting next to Seungkwan, who was already regaling her with an animated story about his weekend adventures.

"I told you," Mingyu said proudly as she slid into her rightful place beside him. "Pinky promises don't break."

As Mrs. Park began the morning roll call, Mingyu slid his special crayon box between their desks again. On top was a folded piece of paper. She carefully opened it to find a drawing of two stick figures holding hands, standing under a smiling sun. In wobbly letters across the top, Mingyu had written: "You and Mingyu - Best Friends Forever."

She tucked the drawing carefully into her folder, knowing she would keep it forever. Just like their promise.

Throughout the rest of first grade and into the years that followed, their pinky promise became something of a legend among their classmates. Even as they grew older and classroom seating became more structured, somehow Mingyu and her always found a way to be together. Partners in science experiments, desk mates when possible, and always side by side during field trips and school events.

Some traditions, after all, are simply meant to last forever. Especially those sealed with the unbreakable bond of a childhood pinky promise.

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ JEONGNA FM ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── now playing…

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋🎧ྀི if Jeonghan and Luna’s love story were a movie, this would be its soundtrack…

song requests are always open! just submit it to my submission box and specify what playlists the song/s is/are going to 🌷💞

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

just friends, for now

╰ a playlist for the quiet beginnings— friendship laced with hidden feelings, stolen glances, and love waiting in the wings.

wandering hearts, silent minds

╰ a playlist for the sound of two hearts once close, now distant— lost in silence, unspoken words, and the ache of what could have been.

love, JeongNa ♡

╰ a playlist for the secret love that defied the odds— hidden moments, quiet devotion, and a love that was never meant to be hidden.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @zhqvie @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy @seokqt @btskzfav @billboard-singer @junhuisworld @caturdayvibe @coralbatlampzonk @sof1eya @lyraea @jihoonsbbygirl @cocopuff2424 @okoknotco @minvxq @soulphoenix1618 @whineywheeiny @rairaine @toplinehyunjin @ateez-atiny380 @cherrylovescheol @jiimtaee @blurr3db3rry @seomisaho @amanda08319 @peanutbutterslothsstuff @cheolsboo @allthings-fandoms @mystic-megumi @sherlockbye @tastyluvr @luperque @reignofraine @kpoplover-19 @star2013 @frankenstein852 @axleighkaize @jmkookie01 @shhh94 @gigglensnort @stupendouscookiehumanmug

[hoshifighting]

idk if someone asked you this but i’m a new reader and I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!!

can you please make wonwoo, the nerdy president who u thought was innocent and sweet but he’s the one behind ur fave nsfw audio creator???? AND HE’S A HARDFUCKER.. not what u expected tho..

i don’t know if i make sense but please pretty please 😭☝️

Synopsis: where you discover that the nerdy class president is the one man who creates the most nasty NSFW audios that you spend long nights listening to. WC: 2.8k WARNINGS: smut, audio porn, masturbation, hard fuck, dirty talk (obviously), bad sleeping habits (because of wonwoo), fingering, spanking, dirty talk, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, wonwoo whining, a lil invasion of privacy.

you’ve been running on fumes all day, the hazy buzz of sleep deprivation clinging to your brain like static. it’s no surprise, really. your night had gone the way it always does: you got home, flopped into your chair, threw on your headphones, and let onyx_lens—your favorite nsfw asmr creator—drag you under with that stupidly deep voice of his.

it was kind of pathetic, actually. you barely remember what the script was about—something about obedience or whatever—but you do remember the sound of his voice sinking into your brain like warm honey, making you cum so hard that you blacked the fuck out right after. now here you were, bleary-eyed and trying to stay upright in literature class, the regret of last night’s poor choices catching up with you.

wonwoo, the class president who was somehow both effortlessly chill and annoyingly observant, had been glancing at you every few minutes. you could feel his eyes on you as your head dipped forward for the third time, only to snap back up like a busted bobblehead.

but, in true wonwoo fashion, he didn’t say anything. no scolding, no judgmental sighs—just quiet observation.

when class finally ended, you were ready to yeet yourself into a nap for a solid 72 hours. you were shoving your stuff into your bag when wonwoo’s voice cut through the noise.

“you good?”

you froze. his voice wasn’t the same as onyx_lens’s, obviously, but it had that same deep, smooth timbre that made your brain short-circuit for a second. it didn’t help that his question sounded so much like something out of an nsfw script. you turned to face him, hoping your face wasn’t giving away how flustered you suddenly were. “uh—yeah,” you said, shaking your head a little too quickly. “just tired.”

wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “not sleeping well?”

your brain screamed. your tired, half-horny brain screamed louder. the overlap of his voice and onyx_lens in your head was un-fucking-bearable. you managed to nod, muttering something about late nights and deadlines, hoping he wouldn’t pry.

he didn’t, but his next question wasn’t much better.

“think you could help me with the sci-fi project? your last lit analysis was good, and i could use the extra pair of hands.”

you blinked at him. “me?”

he nodded, adjusting his glasses. “you. unless you’re too busy with...whatever’s keeping you up.”

oh, you mean my nightly sessions with onyx_lens and my vibrator?

you swallowed hard and tried to play it cool. “nah, i can help.”

and that’s how you found yourself standing outside wonwoo’s apartment later that evening, clutching your bag. his place was exactly what you’d expect from him—minimalist, neat, and smelling faintly of coffee.

“come in,” he said, holding the door open for you. “make yourself comfortable.”

easier said than done. you perched awkwardly on his couch as he set up his laptop on the coffee table, your eyes darting around the room in an attempt to ignore how nice his voice sounded in person.

“so,” he began, sitting across from you, “any ideas for the project?”

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “uh, maybe something about robots and humanity? like, exploring ethical dilemmas or something.”

wonwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your skin heat. “good idea. we could tie that into the main themes from class.”

he leaned forward slightly, scrolling through a document on his laptop, and you couldn’t help but notice how his glasses slipped down his nose. you were so not prepared for this level of proximity or his stupidly deep voice.

“you okay?” he asked again, glancing at you.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “yeah, just...thinking.”

his lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “good. let me know if you need a break or...anything.”

the way he said anything sent a shiver down your spine. you weren’t sure if it was exhaustion, residual arousal from last night, or the sheer presence of wonwoo in his element, but your brain was a mess.

you were supposed to be helping him with this project, but all you could think about was the way his voice would sound whispering in your ear, saying things that would make onyx_lens blush.

you were so close to winning the “most pathetic college student of the year” award it wasn’t even funny. after much back-and-forth with wonwoo, class president of your downfall, you somehow convinced him to let you walk home alone. except the man still went all soft and paid for a taxi anyway, which, like… thanks? but also stop being so nice, what the hell.

it was nearing 11 p.m. when you got home, and as if on cue, your phone pinged with a notification: onyx_lens’s weekly live is starting.

you stared at it for a second, blinking in disbelief. today’s theme? "neon circuits and orgasm denial (a cyberpunk experience) 8d audio"

sci-fi-themed. of fucking course.

you almost laughed at the audacity of the universe for this one. was this some sort of cosmic joke? was wonwoo onyx_lens?! no way. no goddamn way. you shook off the thought as delulu nonsense and dragged yourself to the bathroom for a quick sponge bath.

by the time you flopped into your chair, headphones on, the live was already in full swing. that voice—that stupidly deep, velvety voice—flooded your ears as the chat buzzed with unhinged comments. onyx purred, and you were done for.

you couldn’t even focus on the sci-fi plot he was spinning, something about rogue androids, monster cock, neon vibrators and human experimentation. his voice wrapped around you like a silk chokehold, and you were gone—just a vibrating mess in your chair, coming undone embarrassingly fast.

fast forward to the next morning: you woke up feeling like a used dishrag. again. headphones still on, your phone dead, and the memory of last night’s live replaying in your brain like a broken record.

by the time you dragged yourself to class, you were running on fumes and vibes. your hoodie was scrunched up around your face, making you look like a cross between a gremlin and an overgrown baby.

wonwoo noticed. you could feel his eyes boring into you as you tried—and failed—to stay upright. you were so close to just giving in and laying flat on the floor. honestly, it might’ve been comfier than your chair at that point.

wonwoo, sitting two rows away, looked like he was internally debating whether to intervene or let you rot in peace. when the bell rang, you startled awake like you’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking your stuff off your desk in the process.

“you okay?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you shuffled out of the classroom like a zombie.

“i’m fine,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie. “just need food. like, now.”

you detoured to the convenience store on the way to his apartment, snagging an entire kimbap roll and tearing into it like a starving animal. wonwoo followed behind, holding your water bottle with a look that was equal parts judgment and amusement.

“you couldn’t wait?” he asked, watching as you ate half the roll in one bite.

“bro,” you said around a mouthful of rice, “if i didn’t eat this, i was gonna pass out on the cold asphalt. your problem now, mr. class president.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just handed you your water like the reluctant babysitter he was.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

you couldn’t help yourself. the suspicion had been eating away at you for weeks now, ever since you first heard his voice in class and that nagging sense of déjà vu set in. wonwoo had escaped to the bathroom, and you had the perfect opportunity to snoop.

your fingers hovered over his notebook, but then your gaze darted back to your own screen. back and forth, back and forth. his notebook. yours. the coincidences were piling up like a conspiracy wall in your head. the voice, the specific vocabulary choices, even the cadence—how did i not notice this earlier?!

“fuck it,” you whispered to yourself, grabbing his notebook and quickly pulling up the site where you normally streamed your favorite asmr creator. just to check. just to confirm your theory.

your heart pounded as the site loaded, every second dragging like molasses. the channel page opened, and at first, it seemed normal. too normal. you almost clicked away, feeling stupid for even suspecting anything.

but then you saw it: edit profile. analytics.

your breath caught, and a sharp scoff escaped you as you crossed your arms. oh, my god. the realization hit you like a freight train. it’s him. wonwoo. class president. sci-fi nerd. “how the fuck did i not notice?” you muttered, half impressed by his audacity.

you were so lost in your spiraling thoughts that you didn’t hear him return—until his voice, practically kissed your earlobe.

“what. do. you. think. you. are. doing?”

you jumped so hard your knee slammed into the underside of the desk. whipping around, you found wonwoo standing over you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight.

“uh—nothing?” you stammered, trying to slam your laptop shut, but his hand darted out and stopped you.

“‘nothing’ doesn’t look like you snooping through my computer,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

your cheeks burned. “okay, fine, maybe i was curious—”

“you were curious?” his tone sharpened. “curious enough to invade my privacy?”

“invade your—bro, you’re literally whispering dirty robot sex fantasies to the entire internet. how is that private?”

“that’s different!” his ears flushed a deep red, and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “that’s content. this—this is personal.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “oh, please. you’re mad i figured it out. admit it.”

he leaned closer, towering over you now, his hand pressing down on the desk beside you. “what do you want, huh? blackmail? are you gonna tell everyone?”

you laughed, loud and incredulous. “tell everyone?! dude, relax. i’m not gonna expose your little side hustle. besides…” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. “you should be thanking me. clearly, i’m a fan.”

wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. 

“you’re a what?” he asks, your pulse skyrocketing as he stepped even closer, crowding you against the chair.

“did i stutter?” you whispered, the challenge clear in your tone.

his mouth crashed onto yours, teeth and tongue and frustration. you barely had time to process it before he was yanking you out of the chair, his hands rough as they gripped your hips and spun you around.

“you want to act like a brat,” he growled into your ear, his voice so reminiscent of his asmr persona that it made you roll your eyes back slighty, “then you’re gonna get treated like one.”

he bent you over the desk, the cold surface pressing against your chest as he yanked down your college skirt and underwear at once. his fingers slid through your folds, already slick just from being around him.

“so fucking wet,” he muttered, almost to himself. “you get off on this, don’t you? knowing it’s me.”

“shut your mouth,” you gasped, but it came out more like a moan as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them and pressing them hard on your front wall.

“make me,” he challenged, his other hand coming down sharply on your ass. the sting made you gasp, your hips jerking against his hand as you tense on the desk.

the pace of his fingers was relentless, his thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts. every part of your body was starting to be feveirsh, and you hated—hated—how easily he was unraveling you. you spent nights thinking about how it would be if onyx fucked you, and here you are. of course you would be a mess in a second.

“sorry” he mocked you. “am i too much for you?”

you clenched around his fingers, your nails digging into the desk as you tried to hold back a moan. “you talk too fucking much actually wonwoo,” you hissed.

“yeah, that's what's paying me at nights” wonwoo chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers out and flipping you onto your back with his big arms. before you could protest, he was kneeling between your legs, his mouth suddenly hot and insistent against your core, better than any other vibrator you insisted on using at night.

the sounds—the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue—mixed with your whimpers as he devoured you like a man starved. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

“stop—”

“stop?” he looked up, his chin glistening. “not until you admit i’m your favorite.”

you glared down at him, breathless and defiant. “you’re such an asshole.”

“and yet…” he smirked, diving back in and flicking his tongue against your clit until your head fell back, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

it didn’t take long before you were coming undone, your body shaking as his mouth pulled your clit. wonwoo didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, dragging out your orgasm until you were a trembling, incoherent chaos beneath him.

wonwoo doesn’t waste a second after pulling back, his hands flipping you over again so you’re bent over the desk, your cheek pressed to the cool surface as he grinds against you. the thick outline of his cock rubs against your dripping folds, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants. you gasp, your hips jerking back involuntarily, and his pearly-white smile flashes above you.

“look at that,” he murmurs, almost smug, as a dark spot begins to spread on his sweatpants from your slick. “you’re soaking me through.”

the way he emphasizes the word makes your back contort in shivers, but you’re too far gone to care. your fingers claw at the desk as he keeps humping against you, his pace quickening. when he finally pulls back, you hear the shuffle of fabric as he yanks down his sweatpants and briefs. the soft clink of a drawer opening catches your attention, and you crane your neck to see him sliding on a condom.

“you’re still melting all over my desk,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your ass. “can’t even wait for me, huh?”

before you can respond, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you gasp. he doesn’t stop, spanking you again and again until your skin is flushed and burning.

“you look so pretty like this,” he says, his hand smoothing over the heated skin before gripping your waist and lining himself up. “all messy and desperate for me.”

when he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch until you’re full and breathless, pussy trying to clench at his big grith to adjust. wonwoo groans, his head falling forward as he sinks in to the hilt.

your walls flutter around him, and he moans at the feeling, the sound so real and raw that it sends a jolt straight to your core.

“talk to me,” you manage to gasp, your voice muffled against the desk.

he chuckles, his pace picking up as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “you want me to talk dirty? you want me to tell you how tight you are? how good you’re taking me?”

you moan in response, your hips bucking back against him as his words send you curling.

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he continues, his voice thick with lust. your moans grow louder, and he suddenly remembers the videos you must’ve listened to—the whining, the moaning. the thought makes his stomach flip, and he decides to give you exactly what you want.

he starts letting out soft whimpers, his voice breaking with each thrust, the sounds spilling out almost involuntarily. “fuck, babe, you’re gonna make me cum—”

the genuine desperation in his voice drives you wild, and your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave marks, but you don’t care.

“please,” he moans, his voice high and strained. “let me cum for you. let me—fuck—”

you push back against him, meeting his thrusts as your own climax builds, your breaths coming in short, broken gasps. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies moving together, and the tension snaps all at once.

you come hard, your body shaking as you cry out, and wonwoo isn’t far behind. his hips stutter, a guttural moan escaping him as he spills into the condom, his body trembling with the force of it.

he collapses over you, his chest heaving against your back as you both try to catch your breath. after a moment, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his voice still hoarse as he murmurs, “guess i’m a little better live, hm?”

you just let out a defeated moan, the coldness of the table soothing your hot cheeks.

“keep quiet about this, and i'll keep giving you more.” well, it's just an excuse that wonwoo said to fuck you over again.

[bella-feed]

seungcheol+ lovingly staring into his eyes while sitting on his lap

warmth of winter masterlist

bella's masterlist || taglist

tagging :: @mooniewrld, @syluslittlecrows , @joepomonerof , @potayaa , @chisskaa

[1:49]

you and cheol were cuddled up in a fuzzy blanket with two cups of hot chocolate and some movie playing on the t.v. screen.

it was already snowing outside, so it called for the perfect opportunity for you to wear his hoodie. your mind had been distracted long ago from the movie playing, all you could think was about how lucky you were to find cheol and have cheol find you.

he knew you weren't paying any attention to the movie, as he felt a pair of eyes looking at him continuously for the past 30 minutes. "love, is there something you wanna tell me?" he asked slowly shifting his gaze from the screen towards you.

"no. why?" you said taking a sip of the hot chocolate but still maintaining the eye contact. "you've been staring at me for the past 30 minutes."

you giggled softly, keeping the cup on the coffee table and slowly climbing into his lap. he opened his hands and let you on his lap, you held his face in your (comparatively small) small hands and kissed him softly.

his smile, showing his dimples which tempted you to kiss his nose too. "what's up, baby?" he asked, still smiling.

you let go off his face but still kept lovingly staring into his eyes. "you're beautiful." you uttered softly.

he scoffs. "you're ridiculous" he mutters out, while tightening his hand's grip which was on your hip, to hold you close.

"i aint wrong, am i?"

he looks at you, not knowing what to say. "you are not wrong, love, but if i am beautiful, what does it make you?"

"hopelessly in love with you" you replied without hesitating. "and the urge to be with you always, to be happy when you are happy, to be sad when you are sad, to live in your world and for you to tell me what's on your wishlist, cause i wanna make it come true."

"i love you" he said with tears in his eyes.

"i love you too" you said pecking his lips.

[wc: 337 credits: @novelbear (prompt) and @sanaxo-o (beta reading]

[kathaelipwse]

The barista who stole his heart | K. Mingyu

TROPE: Idol x Non-Fan | Barista AU | Mingyu Falls First | Found Family | Heavy Insecurity to Full Acceptance | Protective Love WARNINGS: Mentions of past toxic relationships | body shaming | Public scrutiny | | mild social media hate | Lots of fluffy affection | soft romance | Mingyu being the ultimate green flag™ | NO PROOF READING WAS DONE WORDCOUNT: 5051 words {Reading time: 18mins} SYNOPSIS: You never expected a regular customer at your café to be a famous idol—especially not one as kind and ridiculously handsome as Kim Mingyu. What started as casual interactions turned into lingering glances, playful flirting, and a slow, inevitable fall. But when your past insecurities resurface and public attention turns critical, Mingyu makes one thing clear: he’s not going anywhere. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one-shot is for anyone who’s ever doubted their worth because of society’s beauty standards. You are enough. You are beautiful. And if Mingyu were for us girlies, he would absolutely worship you. Enjoy this soft love story!

The café, a cozy haven nestled amidst the urban sprawl near the broadcasting station, hummed with a quiet, almost reverent energy. Its walls, painted in warm, inviting hues of cream and ochre, absorbed the city's relentless clamor, replacing it with the gentle whir of the espresso machine and the comforting aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. You, a silent guardian of this tranquil space, moved with a practiced grace, your movements fluid and efficient as you prepared orders. The late shift was your sanctuary, a time when the world outside faded into a distant murmur, allowing you to immerse yourself in the simple rhythm of your work.

The evening was drawing to a close, the last few stragglers trickling out into the cool night air, when the bell above the door chimed, announcing a late arrival. A figure stepped into the café, impossibly tall, his silhouette framed against the streetlights outside. He moved with a quiet weariness, his shoulders slumped, his steps measured. Yet, despite his exhaustion, there was an undeniable magnetism to his presence, a quiet intensity that filled the space.

As he approached the counter, you looked up, your gaze meeting his. His eyes, dark and deep, held a hint of fatigue, yet they sparkled with an inner warmth that caught you off guard. His face, sculpted with sharp angles and softened by a gentle curve to his lips, was undeniably handsome, a fact you acknowledged with a professional detachment.

"Americano, please," he requested, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that sent a subtle shiver down your spine. It was a voice that held a quiet authority, yet it was laced with a gentle politeness that was almost disarming. The way he looked at you, a quiet searching look, made you pause just a moment longer.

You nodded, maintaining your professional demeanor, your gaze unwavering. "Name?"

"Mingyu."

The name was simple, ordinary, yet it lingered in the air, a quiet echo in the stillness of the café. You scribbled it on the cup, your mind already moving to the next task, the familiar routine of grinding beans and steaming milk. A moment later, you placed the cup before him, the name scrawled on the side in your hurried handwriting: Minkoo.

He stared at the cup, a flicker of surprise, almost disbelief, crossing his features. He blinked, then looked back at you, a subtle question in his eyes. "It’s Mingyu."

"Mingyo?" you repeated, your brow furrowed slightly, as you tried to match the spoken word to the written one.

His jaw dropped, ever so slightly, a subtle disbelief etching on his usually composed face. He looked around the empty cafe, then back to you. “…She really doesn’t know me?” The thought was almost spoken aloud, a quiet, incredulous murmur that hung in the air.

For the first time in a long time, Kim Mingyu, the idol known for his charisma and widespread recognition, was caught completely off guard. He was accustomed to the whispers, the gasps, the immediate recognition that followed him like a shadow. He was used to the way people’s eyes widened when they saw him, the way their voices rose in excitement. But here, in this quiet café, under the soft glow of the overhead lights, he was just another customer, another name to be misspelled, another face in the crowd.

The lack of recognition was a strange, almost liberating experience. It was a novel sensation, a breath of fresh air in the midst of his carefully constructed public persona. He watched as you moved about the café, your movements unhurried, your focus unwavering, and he found himself intrigued. There was a quiet confidence in your demeanor, a self-assuredness that was both captivating and disarming.

He took his coffee, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, a silent question hanging in the air. As he turned to leave, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter, this simple misspelling, was the beginning of something unexpected, something that would disrupt the carefully orchestrated rhythm of his life.

The "Minkoo" incident, as Mingyu privately dubbed it, became a peculiar sort of lodestar, drawing him back to the café night after night. It wasn't just the coffee, though it was undeniably good; it was the quiet, almost surreal normalcy of the place, and most importantly, you. He found himself inexplicably drawn to your unpretentious demeanor, your calm efficiency, and the way you seemed utterly unfazed by his presence.

He started timing his visits, subtly adjusting his schedule to coincide with your shifts. He’d arrive just as the evening rush was dying down, the café bathed in the warm, golden glow of the setting sun. He'd sit at the counter, a quiet observer, watching you work your magic behind the espresso machine. He’d study the way your brow furrowed in concentration as you measured out coffee grounds, the gentle curve of your lips as you smiled at a customer, the soft sway of your hips as you moved around the small space.

His members, ever vigilant, noticed the pattern. "Look who it is, Mr. Americano," Seungkwan would tease, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Back for more of that… Minkoo special?"

"What? Their coffee is good!" Mingyu would protest, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He'd try to sound casual, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed his growing infatuation.

"So is every other café, but you don’t go to those, do you?" Hoshi would chime in, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You only go when she’s working."

Mingyu would ignore them, his gaze drifting towards the counter, where you were engaged in a lively conversation with a customer. He was captivated by your laughter, a warm, melodic sound that filled the café. He was fascinated by the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way your hand gestures punctuated your words, the way you seemed so effortlessly you.

He started trying to engage you in conversation, asking about the daily specials, commenting on the weather, even attempting a few clumsy jokes. He’d try to flirt, subtly, with lingering eye contact, playful touches on the counter as he paid, and compliments slipped into casual conversation. "You have really nice eyes," he'd say, his voice low and sincere.

You, however, remained blissfully unaware of his growing infatuation, attributing his attention to his naturally friendly demeanor. You’d laugh at his jokes, offer him a friendly smile, and engage in polite conversation, but you never seemed to see him as anything more than a regular customer.

The moment it truly hit him, the moment he realized he was falling, was a simple, unassuming exchange. He’d made a joke about his clumsiness, a self-deprecating remark about his tendency to trip over his own feet, a habit that often became a source of amusement for his members. "I swear, I’m a hazard to myself," he’d said, shaking his head with a rueful smile.

Without hesitation, you’d said, "Well, I think it’s kinda endearing."

The words were simple, but their impact was profound. For the first time, someone hadn’t teased him, hadn’t made light of his insecurities. They’d found it endearing, a quality to be cherished, a quirk that made him unique. The sincerity in your voice, the gentle warmth in your eyes, it was like a balm to his soul.

And in that moment, his heart wasn’t just beating; it was sprinting, a frantic rhythm that echoed in his ears. He felt a strange mix of exhilaration and vulnerability, a raw, unfiltered emotion that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wanted to know more about you, to unravel the mystery of your quiet confidence, to understand the depth of your kindness.

He wanted to erase the distance between idol and regular customer, to bridge the gap and see if there was something more, something real, something that could withstand the scrutiny of his public life. He wanted to be seen by you, not as Kim Mingyu the idol, but as just Mingyu, the man who found your simple kindness utterly captivating.

The café, usually a haven of quietude, was buzzing with an unusual energy that evening. A small group of young women, their faces flushed with excitement, had gathered near the counter, their eyes darting between you and a certain tall, handsome customer. You paid them little mind, focusing on the intricate latte art you were creating, the delicate swirls and patterns a testament to your practiced skill.

The illusion of anonymity, the comfortable bubble of normalcy that had enveloped Mingyu during his visits, shattered when one of the young women, her voice trembling with excitement, recognized him. Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as she whispered to her friends, "Oh my god, you’re Kim Mingyu!"

The name hung in the air, a sudden, sharp intrusion into the quiet atmosphere of the café. The other women gasped, their eyes widening, their whispers escalating into excited murmurs. You paused, your hand still hovering over the latte, your brow furrowed slightly. You looked up, your gaze shifting from the excited fans to Mingyu, who stood near the counter, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

"Wait… you’re Kim Mingyu? Like, the Mingyu?" you asked, your voice laced with a playful skepticism. You'd seen the name before, heard the excited chatter from some customers, but you'd never put two and two together. It was just another name to you.

Mingyu braced himself for the inevitable wave of excitement, the squeals, the requests for autographs, the sudden shift in your demeanor. He was accustomed to the instantaneous recognition, the way people’s eyes lit up when they realized who he was. He watched you, a silent observer, wondering how you would react.

Instead of the expected fanfare, you just smirked, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you assessed him. "Damn, if I knew you were famous, I would’ve charged you more."

The unexpected response caught him off guard. A breathy laugh escaped his lips, a mix of relief and amusement. He watched as you returned to your latte art, your movements unhurried, your focus unwavering. There was no starstruck awe, no fawning admiration, just a playful jab and a return to your work.

The fans, initially taken aback by your nonchalant reaction, erupted in a flurry of questions and requests for autographs. Mingyu, however, found himself drawn to your quiet composure, your lack of pretense. You treated him like any other customer, a regular who happened to be famous, and he found it strangely refreshing.

He lingered at the counter, watching as you interacted with the fans, your smile genuine, your demeanor polite but firm. You politely declined requests for photos, explaining that you were working, but you offered to sign a napkin for them.

As the fans finally departed, their excited chatter fading into the night, Mingyu turned to you, a curious smile playing on his lips. "You’re not… impressed?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful challenge.

You shrugged, your eyes focused on cleaning the espresso machine. "Impressed by what? You’re a customer. A regular customer, in fact. And one who gets his name spelled wrong, apparently." You gestured to a stray coffee cup, a faded "Minkoo" still visible on the rim.

Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Right. Minkoo."

The air between them shifted, a subtle change in the dynamic. The anonymity was gone, the illusion shattered, but something new had taken its place. There was a spark of curiosity, a flicker of intrigue, a sense that this unexpected revelation was just the beginning of something more. He was no longer just a customer, and you were no longer just a barista. They were two people, their worlds colliding in the quiet intimacy of a late-night café, and the possibilities were endless.

As the days turned into weeks, a comfortable familiarity settled between you and Mingyu. The initial awkwardness of his revelation faded, replaced by a quiet intimacy that thrived in the late-night hours of the café. He’d linger after his orders, engaging in conversations that stretched into the quiet hours of closing, sharing stories and laughter that filled the empty space.

Yet, despite the growing closeness, Mingyu couldn’t ignore the subtle but persistent habit that lingered beneath your easygoing demeanor: the way you deflected every compliment, every word of praise, as if they were poisoned darts. It was a subtle flinch, a momentary tightening of your shoulders, a forced laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"You look beautiful tonight," he’d say, his voice soft, his eyes tracing the delicate curve of your cheek, the way the soft light of the café illuminated your features.

"Pfft, yeah right," you’d reply, a dismissive wave of your hand, a self-deprecating chuckle that betrayed a deep-seated insecurity. "Don’t lie to me."

He watched you, his brow furrowed, a growing concern etching his features. He saw the way your smile faltered when he complimented your eyes, the way your gaze dropped when he praised your laugh. It was a subtle language, a silent conversation of self-doubt that whispered beneath the surface of your confident exterior.

One night, as he helped you close the café, the quiet intimacy of the empty space emboldening him, he decided to confront the unspoken pain that lingered between them. The last customer had left, the chairs were stacked, the counters wiped clean, and the only sound was the gentle hum of the refrigerator.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, his voice low and serious, his gaze unwavering.

You froze, your hands stilling on the cloth you were using to wipe down the counter. "Do what?"

"Act like I’m lying when I say you’re beautiful."

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the countertop. The silence stretched, a tense, fragile quiet that amplified the unspoken pain.

Finally, you sighed, a soft, resigned sound that spoke of years of ingrained self-doubt. "Because I don’t fit the standard, Mingyu. I never have. My exes made sure I knew that."

The words were barely a whisper, a fragile echo of past hurts, but their impact was profound. Mingyu’s heart clenched, a wave of protectiveness surging through him. He saw the vulnerability in your eyes, the raw honesty that trembled in your voice, and he wanted to erase the pain, to heal the wounds that had festered for so long.

His grip tightened on the counter, his knuckles white. "What did they say?"

"That I was too heavy. That I wasn’t what guys wanted. That I didn’t belong." Your voice was barely audible, a fragile confession that spoke of years of emotional scars. "They said I was too much, or not enough. That nobody would love me like this."

Mingyu’s expression darkened, a fierce protectiveness surging within him. If he could go back in time, he’d shake those men until they realized the magnitude of their foolishness, the precious gem they’d discarded. He’d make them see the beauty they’d overlooked, the strength they’d underestimated, the love they’d rejected.

Instead, he made a silent promise, a vow etched in his heart. He would rewrite your narrative, replacing the lies with truths, the pain with love. He would show you the beauty he saw, the strength he admired, the love he felt. He would make sure you never felt that way again.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek, his touch feather-light, reverent. "They were wrong," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "They were blind. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are strong, you are kind, you are worthy of love. And I… I see you. I see all of you, and I love every part of you."

His words hung in the air, a silent promise of unwavering support, a vow to heal the wounds that had been inflicted by others. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, that the years of ingrained self-doubt wouldn’t vanish overnight. But he was determined to be your anchor, your safe haven, your unwavering champion. He would show you, day by day, moment by moment, the truth of your worth.

From that night forward, Mingyu embarked on a quiet mission, a personal crusade to rewrite the narrative of your self-perception. He became your most ardent admirer, your fiercest champion, a constant source of unwavering affirmation. He showered you with compliments, not empty platitudes, but genuine expressions of the beauty he saw, both inside and out. He wanted to re-educate your heart.

He’d trace the gentle curves of your stomach, his touch light and reverent, whispering, "I love how soft your stomach is. It’s warm and inviting, perfect for cuddling." He’d kiss the soft skin of your inner thighs, his lips lingering, his voice husky as he murmured, "Your thighs drive me crazy, you know that? They’re strong and beautiful, and I could lose myself in them."

He’d hold you close, his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "God, I could hold you all day and never get tired. You feel like home, like the safest place in the world."

And he did hold you, often. He’d lift you effortlessly, his strong arms cradling you, spinning you around just to hear your laughter, a melody that filled his soul with warmth. He’d pull you into his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands tracing the lines of your body, his touch a constant affirmation of your beauty.

"Mingyu! Put me down! I’m heavy!" you’d protest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks, a hint of lingering insecurity in your voice.

He’d just smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief, his grip tightening. "No, you’re perfect. Every curve, every inch, every part of you is perfect."

He worshipped every inch of you, finding beauty in the places others had found flaws. He’d kiss the small scar on your knee, tracing its delicate line with his fingertip, whispering, "This tells a story, a story of strength and resilience. It’s beautiful."

His favorite things:

Kissing your neck, shoulders, and collarbone when you’re tired, his lips leaving a trail of warmth, a gentle reassurance that you were safe and cherished. He'd whisper soft praises against your skin, telling you how hard you worked, how beautiful you were when relaxed.

Back hugs while you cleaned, his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, murmuring soft praises into your ear, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering insecurities. He’d tell you how much he admired your work ethic, your dedication, your quiet strength.

Tracing his fingers over your stomach folds, his touch light and reverent, grinning as he whispers, "So soft, I love this," his adoration palpable. He’d kiss the soft skin, his lips lingering, his touch a silent declaration of his love.

Resting his head on your thighs, looking up at you with pure adoration, his eyes filled with a love that transcended words. He’d tell you how much he admired your strength, your intelligence, your kindness.

Holding your hand while you walk, his grip strong and reassuring, a silent promise of unwavering support. He’d intertwine his fingers with yours, his touch a constant reminder that you were never alone.

Pulling you into his lap when you're sad, whispering sweet nothings until your tears cease. He'd hold you close, his arms wrapped around you, his touch a comforting presence.

Kissing the inside of your wrists, and the soft skin under your ears, his worshiping kisses a silent prayer of adoration. He’d linger over the delicate pulse points, his touch a reverent exploration of your skin.

Falling asleep with you in his arms, his hold tight but gentle, as if he's afraid you'll slip away. He'd hold you close, his breath warm against your hair, his presence a comforting weight.

Running his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and soothing, a silent lullaby that eased the tension from your shoulders.

Making you laugh until your sides hurt, his playful teasing a constant source of joy, a reminder that life was meant to be enjoyed.

Gaze at you while you work, his eyes filled with a soft adoration, a silent appreciation for your dedication and skill.

When he pulls you close, and kisses you deeply, a kiss that tells you how much he loves you, a passionate declaration of his unwavering devotion. He will sometimes pull back, and just stare at your lips, like he is memorizing every curve.

He wanted to rewrite the narrative of your self-perception, to replace the lies with truths, the pain with love. He wanted to show you the beauty he saw, the strength he admired, the love he felt. He wanted to create a safe haven within his arms, a place where you could finally believe in your own worth.

As your relationship with Mingyu deepened, the inevitable public scrutiny began to surface. Whispers turned into rumors, rumors into articles, and articles into a full-blown media frenzy. The internet, a double-edged sword, became a battleground of opinions, some supportive, many cruel.

When dating rumors surfaced, accompanied by candid photos of you and Mingyu sharing a quiet moment in the café, not all fans were kind. Some comments were venomous, laced with jealousy and prejudice, questioning why an idol, a figure of perfection in their eyes, would choose someone like you. They scrutinized your appearance, your background, your very existence, dissecting you with cruel precision.

The harsh words echoed the insecurities you’d carried for so long, a cruel reminder of past hurts. They whispered doubts you’d tried to bury, amplified the voices that had told you you weren’t enough. The online vitriol began to seep into your daily life, a constant barrage of negativity that threatened to erode the fragile confidence Mingyu had worked so hard to build.

Mingyu, however, didn’t stand for it. He was a force of nature, a shield against the storm of negativity. His response was swift, unwavering, a public declaration of love that sent shockwaves through the internet:

"If you can’t support the person I love, then you don’t support me either."

The statement was bold, a clear line drawn in the sand. He chose you, unequivocally, without hesitation. He chose love over the fickle adoration of those who couldn’t see beyond their own narrow perceptions. He made it clear, your happiness, and safety, were his priority.

Behind closed doors, in the quiet sanctuary of his apartment, he held you tighter than ever, his embrace a silent promise of protection. He ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing, his presence a comforting weight against the storm raging outside.

"Don’t listen to them, baby. They don’t know you," he’d whisper, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "They don’t see what I see. They don’t see your kindness, your strength, your beauty. They don’t see the way you light up a room, the way you make me laugh, the way you make me feel like I’m home."

"You belong here, with me," he’d murmur, his lips pressed against your hair, his breath warm against your skin. "You belong in my arms, in my life, in my heart."

He’d hold you close, his arms wrapped around you, his touch a constant reassurance that you weren’t alone. He’d kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, his touch reverent, his lips a silent prayer.

He’d spend hours talking to you, reminding you of your worth, of your strength, of your beauty. He’d recount the moments that made him fall in love with you, the small gestures, the quiet kindnesses, the unwavering strength that shone through your vulnerability. He’d remind you of the way you laughed, of the way you smiled, of the way you made him feel like he was the only person in the world.

He’d cook for you, even though he was terrible at it, just to see the smile on your face. He’d play your favorite music, holding you close as you danced in the living room. He’d watch your favorite movies, even the cheesy ones, just to cuddle with you on the couch.

And slowly, little by little, the walls you’d built around your heart began to crumble. The doubts, the insecurities, the ingrained beliefs that you weren’t enough—they began to fade, replaced by the unwavering certainty of Mingyu’s love. He was your anchor, your safe haven, your unwavering champion, and he wouldn’t let anyone, not even the cruelest of online trolls, take that away from you. He made sure you knew, his love was a shield, and he would always protect you.

As the storm of public scrutiny subsided, a quiet peace settled between you and Mingyu. The initial intensity of his protective fervor mellowed into a gentle, unwavering love that permeated every aspect of your lives. You began to see yourself through his eyes, to embrace the beauty he saw, to believe in the worth he so tirelessly affirmed.

One day, Mingyu called you beautiful, his voice soft and sincere, his eyes filled with a quiet adoration. And for the first time, you didn’t deflect, didn’t dismiss, didn’t shrink away from the compliment. You simply smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that lit up your entire face, a smile that reflected the newfound confidence blooming within you.

And in that moment, he knew—this was love. Real, unwavering, unshakable love. A love that transcended superficialities, a love that embraced every imperfection, every vulnerability. A love that was built on a foundation of acceptance, respect, and unwavering support.

Their relationship blossomed, a quiet intimacy that thrived in the small, everyday moments. Late-night conversations over steaming mugs of coffee, stolen kisses in the quiet corners of the café, hand-holding during long walks through the city streets, shared laughter during mundane tasks. They found comfort in each other’s presence, a sanctuary in each other’s arms.

Mingyu loved to trace the lines of your body, his touch a gentle exploration, his lips whispering praises against your skin. He loved the way your laughter filled the room, a melodic sound that chased away the shadows of past insecurities. He loved the way your eyes sparkled when you were happy, a reflection of the joy he’d helped to cultivate. He loved the way your hand fit perfectly in his, a silent affirmation of their connection.

He’d bring you flowers, not just roses, but wildflowers, sunflowers, and other unusual blooms, each one handpicked and chosen because it reminded him of you. He’d leave small notes around the apartment, tucked into books, slipped into pockets, reminding you of your beauty, your strength, your worth. He’d cook for you, even though he was terrible at it, the burnt edges and lopsided dishes a testament to his love.

You, in turn, learned to appreciate his quirks, his clumsiness, his infectious laughter. You learned to see the quiet strength beneath his playful exterior, the unwavering loyalty that anchored his heart. You learned to trust his love, to believe in his words, to embrace the woman he saw within you.

Their love story was a quiet revolution, a testament to the power of acceptance, the beauty of vulnerability, and the unwavering strength of a love that defied all odds. It was a love that found comfort in imperfections, strength in vulnerability, and a forever in the quiet moments shared between two souls destined to find each other.

It was late, the café bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights outside. The last customer had long since departed, leaving behind a quiet stillness that hung in the air. Mingyu sat on the counter, his eyes fixed on you as you wiped down the espresso machine, his gaze filled with a quiet adoration that spoke of a love that had deepened and matured over time.

Then, without thinking, without hesitation, you turned around and said it. "I love you."

The words were simple, yet their impact was seismic, a ripple that spread through the quiet space, altering the very fabric of their world. Mingyu froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes widening with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy.

Then, his knees buckled, a sharp exhale leaving his lips as he gripped the counter, his knuckles white, his gaze fixed on you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion, a plea that trembled in the stillness.

You stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes filled with a love that mirrored his own. "Mingyu—"

His hands found your waist, gripping like he needed to ground himself, his touch both tender and desperate. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, his body trembling with an emotion too profound for words. "Say it again, please."

So you did, your voice soft but unwavering. "I love you."

Mingyu laughed—a breathless, disbelieving sound that echoed through the empty café. Then he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his lips curved into a smile that radiated pure, unadulterated joy.

"God, you just—" He shook his head, unable to articulate the depth of his emotion, before crashing his lips to yours, a desperate, passionate kiss that spoke of a love long held in check, a love that had finally found its voice.

When he pulled away, he cupped your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks, his eyes filled with a love that transcended words. "I love you more. So much more. So much, it actually hurts."

He showered you with kisses, his lips tracing a path across your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw, his touch reverent, worshipful. He kissed your eyelids, your nose, the soft skin beneath your ears, his touch a silent prayer of adoration.

He held you close, his arms wrapped around you, his body a warm, comforting presence. "I’m never letting you go," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re mine, forever."

And in that moment, in the quiet intimacy of the empty café, surrounded by the scent of coffee and the warmth of their love, they knew—their forever had begun.

[minniesfiles]

TIARAS AND TUTUS

Kim Mingyu would do anything for his little girl. Even if it meant embarrassing himself in front of the entire kindergarten.

❧ PAIRING; mingyu x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, (girl) dad mingyu, pure fluff, drabble

❧ WORDCOUNT; 1.2k

𐚁₊⊹

▍20 MAY 2029

Mingyu never imagined that at thirty-two years old, he’d find himself standing in a crowded kindergarten classroom wearing a pink tutu and a plastic tiara. Yet here he was, adjusting the waistband of the fluffy skirt while you tried to contain your laughter behind your phone’s camera.

“Gyu, oh my god— I can’t,” you wheezed as you snapped another picture. “You look adorable.”

Mingyu shot you a glare, his face already burning with embarrassment. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. You made me do this.”

“You agreed to this,” you corrected him with a grin.

“For Minji,” he huffed and then looked down at your four-year-old daughter.

Minji, completely unfazed by the ridiculousness of the situation, twirled gracefully in her matching pink tutu. Her tiny crown, slightly crooked on her head, added to her charm as she beamed up at him with excitement. “Daddy, we look like real ballerinas!”

Mingyu sighed, his heart melting despite his efforts to remain composed. “Yes princess, we certainly do.”

The kindergarten was organising a Father’s Day celebration, and for some inexplicable reason — one Mingyu would never comprehend — the teachers had chosen a father-daughter ballet performance as the perfect bonding activity.

When Minji first handed him the invitation, he couldn’t help but laugh, mistaking it for some kind of joke. However, upon looking into her big, eager eyes, he realised that he couldn’t exactly say no.

“Will you dance with me Daddy?” she asked, and denying her request was simply not an option.

He had convinced himself that it wouldn’t be too bad. Perhaps they’d simply wave their arms a bit and call it a day. However, when he arrived at the school and saw a row of frilly pink tutus hanging on the classroom wall, his stomach dropped.

Now, standing in the middle of the classroom with his tutu barely covering his hips, he realised just how deeply he had underestimated the situation.

It wasn’t just him (thankfully) — every father in the room was dressed identically. However, none of them stood out as much as he did.

Mingyu, standing at six feet two inches tall, was easily the tallest person in the room. The other dads were of average height, which made it easy for them to blend into the crowd. However, Mingyu stood out like a giant who had been dropped into a sea of tiny fathers and daughters dressed in tutus.

And now, in just a few minutes, he was going to have to dance on stage. He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“You’ll be fine,” you assured him between giggles. “Just embrace it.”

Mingyu groaned, but before he could express his annoyance further, a small hand grasped his. He peered down to see Minji gazing up at him with big, round eyes.

“Daddy, are you okay?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Of course sweetheart,” he forced a smile.

“But you look nervous,” she frowned.

Mingyu hesitated. He didn’t want to ruin this for her, but the idea of being the tallest, most awkward ballerina on stage was making his stomach twist in knots.

Minji suddenly took both of his hands in hers. “Daddy, you don’t have to be scared. You’re the best dancer ever!”

Mingyu snorted. “I don’t know about that princess.”

“Yes, you are!” she insisted. “And even if you mess up, it’s okay because we’re doing it together!”

Mingyu’s heart fluttered in awe. How was it possible for such a small human to be so wise? He crouched down, meeting her gaze. “You really think so?”

Minji nodded firmly. “Uh-huh! And also, if you dance funny, Mummy said she’ll love you even more.”

From behind them, you burst into laughter. Mingyu groaned in annoyance but couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Of course she did.”

Just then, the teacher clapped her hands to gain everyone’s attention. “Alright daddies and daughters! It’s time to line up for our performance. Remember, the main objective is to have fun, so don’t worry about being perfect!”

Mingyu took a deep breath and stood up, allowing Minji to drag him towards the stage. The other fathers shuffled nervously beside him, some adjusting their tiaras, while others looked around as if they’re searching for an escape route.

The curtains were drawn back, revealing a small stage decorated with pastel pink and white ribbons. The audience, predominantly mothers, younger siblings, and teachers, watched with amused expressions while holding cameras to capture the moment.

The lights dimmed slightly as soft, whimsical music started to play. Mingyu swallowed hard as he followed the simple steps they had learned during their brief rehearsal. The movements were basic — twirling, raising arms in an arch, and a little plié — but somehow, performing them in front of an audience while wearing a tutu made it ten times more challenging.

He spotted you in the crowd with your phone raised as you documented every embarrassing moment of your husband as well as your daughter’s. He was certain that he was going to hear about this for years.

But then, he looked down at Minji, whose face was radiant with nothing but joy. She giggled as she twirled beside him, holding his hand so tightly that it seemed to anchor him. She wasn’t embarrassed. She wasn’t worried about how silly they looked. All she felt was happiness.

And suddenly, Mingyu no longer cared.

So what if he was a six-foot-two man in a tutu? So what if he looked absolutely ridiculous? His daughter was happy, and that was all that mattered.

His movements became more fluid and confident. He gracefully lifted his arms, exaggerating his spins just to hear Minji’s laughter. When he noticed another dad struggling to keep the rhythm, he gave him a reassuring nod. Because they were all in this together.

By the end of the performance, Mingyu spun Minji in the air one final time, earning loud cheers and claps from the audience. The teacher applauded in response, and the little girls all curtsied, while the fathers bowed (some more dramatically than others).

As they walked offstage, Minji beamed up at him. “See? You are the best dancer ever Daddy!”

Mingyu smiled and bent down to kiss her tiny forehead. “Only because I had the best partner.”

You approached them with your grin still plastered on your face as you held up your phone. “I managed to capture the entire thing, and I’m sending it to Wonwoo and the others.”

Mingyu groaned. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Nope,” you smirked.

Your husband sighed dramatically, but when Minji hugged him tightly, all his embarrassment vanished. After all, nothing was more important than making his little girl smile.

╴╴╴╴╴

Later that night, after putting Minji to sleep, Mingyu sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone. When a notification suddenly appeared on the screen.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

[13 losers]

Wonwoo: Tell me why my timeline is full of a six-foot-two ballerina?

Soonyoung: YOU WERE AMAZING MINGYU-SSI. TEARS IN MY EYES.

Jeonghan: You’re my hero. I’m making this my profile picture.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Mingyu let out a groan and tossed his phone onto the soft. You, seated beside him with a smug grin, rested your head on his shoulder. “So…do you regret it?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No,” he admitted. “But I’m banning you from using your phone during school events.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I can’t make any promises.”

And despite his embarrassment, Mingyu couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, he would wear a thousand tutus if it meant making Minji happy.

[itssunshinetoday]

~ the boyfriend pictures series

boyfriend pictures

[mocchiixxx]

Hello!! Love your work!!! I was hoping you could write a woozi x female reader fic where reader goes to give woozi food or something that causes her to go check on him in the studio and woozi is kinda mean to her but reader knows he doesn’t mean anything (he is super cranky due to no food or sleep in his system) and reader is just so kind, patient, and understanding and Woozi gets mad that she’s not getting mad at his behavior because he sure is mad at his behavior and have it end all sweet and cute?

Tittle: His Grumpy but Cute Love

Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Domestic Romance

Summary: Woozi is overworked, sleep-deprived, and running on pure stubbornness in his studio. You, being the thoughtful partner you are, bring him food— only to be met with his grumpy attitude. But you don’t get mad, because you know he doesn’t mean it. And that frustrates him even more, until he finally gives in to your patience and care.

The soft click of the studio door closing barely made a dent in the thick, overbearing silence. The only sounds were the hum of the computer, the occasional clack of keys, and Woozi’s very audible sighs of frustration.

You took a cautious step inside, a takeout bag clutched in your hands. “Jihoon?”

He didn’t look up. “What?”

You frowned. His voice was tight, strained. Cranky. But you expected that the moment you decided to show up in his studio, arms full of food.

He’d been holed up in the studio for hours, if not days, barely sleeping, barely eating. That’s why you were here in the first place.

“I brought food,” you said, setting the bag on the small table by the couch. “Figured you haven’t eaten yet.” you said thoughtfully while staring at his back figured on you.

“Take a break and eat first?” you ask in the most soft voice you could master to convince him only to be ignored.

He still didn’t look at you. “I’m busy.”

“I know,” you said softly. “That’s why I—”

“Then why are you here?” His tone was sharp, irritated. “I told you, I don’t have time.”

You bite your lower lips to that, you would be lying if say that action of his didn't hurt you a little, but as his girlfriend, who knows him and his responsibility, you understand where he's coming from. Still, despite that you managed to put up a smile on your lips.

Most people would’ve taken that as their cue to leave.

But you weren’t most people.

Instead of snapping back or storming out, you just let out a small hum, walking closer to where he sat in front of his screen. “You don’t mean that.”

Woozi did look up then, eyes flashing with something unreadable. “Excuse me?”

You tilted your head, completely unfazed. “You don’t mean it. You’re just exhausted.”

His jaw clenched. Damn it. He hated how well you knew him.

“Should I leave?” you asked, not unkindly. “I don’t want to bother you.”

He huffed, running a hand down his face. “You should.”

You nodded. And then—

You sat down on the couch.

Woozi’s eye twitched. “I thought you were leaving?”

You smiled. “I said I would if I was bothering you. But I’m not, am I?”

He let out a sharp exhale, glaring at his screen as if it had personally betrayed him. “You’re so annoying.”

“Mm. I know.”

“Why aren’t you mad?” he snapped. “I’m being mean to you.”

You shrugged, resting your chin on your hand. “Because I know you don’t mean it.”

Woozi groaned, rubbing his temples. He was pissed—at himself, at the long hours, at his own stupid body for running on empty. But mostly? He was pissed that you were sitting there, smiling at him, being so damn kind when he was acting like an ass.

And the worst part?

It was working.

The tension in his shoulders slowly uncoiled, the irritation in his chest dulled, and the exhaustion hit him harder.

A long silence stretched between you.

Then, finally...

“…What did you bring?”

Your face lit up like he’d just given you an all-access pass to his unreleased songs. “Your favorites.”

Woozi sighed, defeated. “You’re really something else.”

You grinned, handing him the food. “And yet, you love me anyway.”

He rolled his eyes but as he took the first bite, he knew that, yeah. He really, really did.

Then, just as you were about to stand up, Woozi caught your wrist and tugged you right onto his lap.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Jihoon?”

He didn’t say anything right away. Just rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping snugly around your waist as he let out a slow, deep sigh.

“…Sorry,” he mumbled, voice much softer now. “I was being an idiot.”

You melted instantly, running your fingers through his hair. “I know.”

He pouted. “You’re supposed to say I wasn’t that bad.”

You giggled, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek. “But you were that bad.”

Woozi groaned but squeezed you tighter, burying his face into your neck. “You still stayed.”

“Of course I did.” You pulled back slightly, booping his nose. “Now, are you going to eat?”

Woozi sighed dramatically. “Only if you feed me.”

You laughed. “You’re such a baby.”

“I haven’t slept properly in two days,” he reminded you. “Let me be babied.”

Shaking your head fondly, you picked up the food, holding out a bite for him. “Say ‘ahh’~”

He huffed, but his lips parted anyway, letting you feed him. His eyes fluttered shut as he chewed, and for the first time in hours, he looked… at peace.

You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

Woozi cracked an eye open. “That was nice. Do it again.”

You laughed, obliging. And just like that, your overworked, cranky genius finally let himself rest.

Author's Note: Hii, hii! I hope this fic is to your liking 🤗🫶

[nevernonline]

✧.* how to lose the girl; xmh

synopsis: minghao was feeling tired of shallow relationships. his friends, noticing his frustration, challenge him to pursue a girl and then push her away within ten days. intrigued by the idea, he reluctantly accepts the bet as a fun challenge.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring/s: afab reader x non-idol hao.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), low-key fuckboy hao

warning/s: alcohol consumption, some bad jokes, nothing too bad or seggsy

word count: 10.3k

content: all the vibes of how to lose a guy in ten days but nawt. enjoy xo!

Day 1 - The Bet

In the lively heart of the city, Minghao, was out flaunting his charming looks and a playful grin, typically on his much too expensive and lavish work lunches which gave him and the rest of his colleges an excuse to pick up a bunch of beautiful women to take home every night, a lot of them falling hard for him no matter how poorly he left them hanging the morning after. But lately, he noticed how he always found himself drowning in a sea of shallow connections, and it was starting to wear on him.

Sensing his distress, his friends hatched an interesting plan to inject some excitement into his love life: they dared him to make a girl fall for him and then push her away in just ten days! “No way in fucking hell could he pull this off, he’ll get bored by day four.” jeered one friend, gleefully rubbing his hands together. With a mix of reluctance and curiosity bubbling inside him, Minghao accepted, eager to see how fast he could make a girl sprint for the exit.

Across town, y/n was navigating her own challenges. She was as her friends described a fierce, independent powerhouse who was on a mission to conquer the advertising world and prove to her office overrun by male colleagues that she meant business. Relationships? She just viewed them for what they were distractions in her quest for success—something she simply couldn’t afford. With her sights set on her career, she was about to discover just how unpredictable life and love could be when the most unexpected challenges came knocking. 

Day 2 - The Meeting

Minghao first spotted Y/n at a coffee shop, her eyes glued to her laptop as she furiously typed, rather loudly should he add. He decided she would be the perfect target. Something about her tight lipped focused face, her hair perfectly slicked into a ponytail, not a hair out of place, something about her felt more like a challenge than a perfect sweep for his bet. 

He approached her with his trademark smile, confident and carefree. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing toward the empty chair across from her. y/n looked up, a mix of annoyance and intrigue in her gaze. 

“Actually, yes,I don’t care to do my work around a fuck boy flirting with me, my office has enough of those. Have a good day.” she replied bluntly, not ready to be derailed from her work.

Minghao, undeterred by her obvious dismissal, sat down anyway. “I’m Minghao,” he introduced himself. “And I think you owe me a chance to change your mind.”

She raised an eyebrow, still looking down at her computer, typing a bit less loud now, almost as if she was intrigued and didn’t want him to know but the scowl on her face said she was still skeptical. “Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in closer. “Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he replied playfully. “But first, you’ll have to let me take you on a perfect first date.”

Y/n almost chuckled at his audacity, but there was an undeniable spark of intrigue in her gaze. Little did she know, mingling with Minghao was about to shake up her life. 

“Fine. If that will get you to leave me alone while I work, I’ll agree.” 

“I’m not leaving here until I get your contact information,” Minghao laughed. 

Rolling her eyes, Y/n dug through her wallet, searching for a business card. “Here,” she said, finally pulling one out and extending it towards him.

But Minghao just held his hand up in a stop-motion gesture, shaking his head. “No, not a business card. I need to know you’ll actually show up, so let me have your personal phone number instead.”

Y/n stared at him, incredulity mixing with a lingering smile. “Oh, so bold. And what makes you think I will?”

“Because,” he leaned closer, his expression earnest now, “I have a feeling that once you get to know me, you won’t want to miss out. Plus, if I leave with a business card, how will I ever convince you to let me take you on that perfect date?”

Her skepticism flickered for a second under the brightness of his confidence, but she still hesitated. “You really think you can convince me?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone teasing yet sincere. “And if I fail, I promise I’ll leave you alone forever. Deal?”

For a moment, Y/n pondered the spontaneity of his request, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, a grin broke free on her lips as she typed her number into his phone, the anticipation of the unknown sparking excitement within her. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, handing back the phone with a hint of warning in her tone.

Minghao's eyes lit up with genuine delight as he saved her contact. “You won’t regret this,” he promised, his voice softening a touch.

As he returned the phone to her, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter of uncertainty mixed with exhilaration. Perhaps there was something to this spontaneous gamble after all. Little did they know, that simple decision would pave the way for an unforgettable connection and adventures neither had anticipated.

Day 3 - The Chase

Over the days that followed, Minghao played his part, showering her with attention that ranged from over-the-top romantic gestures to quirky surprises. He brought her favorite pastries to the office, sent her memes that made her laugh, and even bombarded her with cheesy pick-up lines. Each time, Y/n found herself torn between annoyance and amusement.

At first, she had tried to brush him off, responding to his texts with one-word replies or simply ignoring his more audacious attempts to brighten her day. However, Minghao persisted, his cheerful determination almost unwavering. One afternoon, she returned from a long meeting to find her desk decorated with colorful sticky notes adorned with doodles and handwritten compliments. “You’re the best part of my day,” one note claimed, and despite her initial irritation, a small smile tugged at her lips.

Minghao was relentless, his charm starting to break down her walls. She had to admit there was something about him—he was refreshingly carefree, unlike the uptight guys she usually dated. While others might have tried to impress her with their accomplishments or flashy gifts, Minghao found ways to make her laugh, embracing a lightheartedness that was both refreshing and frightening. But Y/n was determined to keep him at arm's length; she had a career to focus on.

Still, the more time they spent chatting, the more she found herself looking forward to his texts. Each meme and quirky voice note felt less like an intrusion and more like a highlight of her day. One evening, after a particularly grueling week, she found herself daydreaming about a potential picnic under the stars, something Minghao had suggested a few days prior.

“No, no,” she chastised herself, shaking her head as she turned her attention to her laptop. “Stay focused.” 

Yet, every time she tried to immerse herself in her work, her mind would inevitably wander back to him. The way he laughed, the warmth in his gaze, even the way he playfully challenged her every now and then—there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.

On a particularly busy Friday, while sipping her coffee and reviewing a presentation, she felt her phone vibrate on the desk. A message appeared: “Hey, just thought you might want to know that your favorite pastry is waiting at the corner café. No obligations. Just a little pick-me-up to start your weekend. 😊”

Y/n's heart softened, a flutter of appreciation sweeping through her. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, trying to suppress the smile creeping onto her face. Maybe she could allow herself a moment of distraction.

She quickly glanced at the time and the empty office around her, nobody here really worked on the weekends aside from herself so she decided to take a break just this once. With a random jolt of excitement, she stood up, brushed aside her work-related thoughts, and headed to the café. She spotted him sitting comfortably at a small table, a bright smile illuminating his face. Before she could even say a word, he raised a pastry in greeting, “I didn’t know if you liked it warm or cold, so I got one of each, just to be safe!”

Her laughter bubbled out despite herself. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“But I did, you mentioned to me the other day you never have fun on the weekends anymore because you're busy working, ” Minghao countered, setting the pastries down and leaning back in his chair. “Life's too short not to indulge in the little things. Besides, you're worth it.”

His words stirred something in her, something she had kept buried under layers of practicality. A mix of anxiety and excitement danced in her chest as they shared bits of pastry and stories, laughter weaving between them effortlessly. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/n considered that perhaps life wasn’t just about hard work and career goals—it could also be about spontaneous moments and unexpected connections.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the café, Y/n let herself enjoy the moment, her defenses slowly crumbling, piece by piece. “Want to go for a drink? Unless you have plans or something?” 

“You’re asking me out? Wow, Y/n, I’m pleasantly surprised. I’d actually enjoy that. Big boss lady is paying, right?” Minghao pressed, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her lips. “Very funny. I should have known you’d want to make this about money,” she teased, her heart racing slightly at the thought of stepping into the realm of casual dating.

“I’m kidding. But you know I’d never let you cover the whole tab, right?” he replied, his voice playful yet sincere. “How about we split it? One thing I’ve learned is that relationships, friendships or otherwise, are all about balance.” 

“That sounds fair but please let me get it actually I feel a little bad about you always paying anyway. Plus, I asked you. That's how it works right?,” she agreed, her spirit lifted by his lightheartedness. “Where do you want to go?” 

“I know this cozy little bar just around the corner. They have some cool drinks and the vibes are good,” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Plus, I’ve heard they serve a mean nacho platter.”

“Nachos and drinks sound perfect. Wow- I hate that I actually got excited by a fucking macho platter, but okay.” she replied, feeling a surge of excitement and momentary embarrassment over some fucking chips with cheese. She was surprised at how nervous yet invigorated she felt. 

As they walked to the bar, the warm evening air enveloped them like a casual embrace. With every step beside him, Y/n felt the weight of her daily grind lift. “So, what’s your go-to cocktail?” she asked, surprisingly eager to keep the chatter flowing.

“I’d say I’m a classic and simple beer or wine dude, but I’m always game for something a bit off the beaten path. You?” 

“Dirty martini,” she answered, a proud smile crossing her face. “Simple but sophisticated.” 

“Ah, the big boss lady indeed. But the real question is gin or vodka?” He winked, and for a moment, she felt herself blush, something she hadn’t experienced in ages. 

“Vodka, but shut you fucking mouth and don’t tell any martini enthusiasts. Extra dry, extra dirty.” 

“Not extra wet and extra dirty?” 

Y/n nearly choked on her own spit, watching his face crinkle into a big smile before they erupted into laughter. 

They snagged a small table tucked away in a corner, perfect for engaging in their own little world. 

After placing their orders, conversations flowed as smoothly as the drinks. Minghao effortlessly switched between sharing amusing anecdotes about his life and asking Y/n about hers, genuinely interested in her career aspirations and what fueled her passions. With every laugh they exchanged and each shared story, Y/n found herself relaxing more, drawn into his effortless charm. 

“Alright, I need the truth,” Minghao said, leaning in as if about to share a juicy secret. “What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?” 

Y/n took a moment, contemplating her answer before finally admitting, “Reality TV. It’s a little bit shameful, I know, but there’s something about the drama that I can’t resist.” 

Minghao laughed heartily, the sound filling her with warmth. “No shame in that. I actually can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy watching Love Island. I’m more of a cooking show fan, to be honest. Nothing quite like watching people fail spectacularly while I sit there eating takeout as if I can cook this shit myself.”

“Okay, we’re definitely going to have a night where I introduce you to some of the best reality stars of all time, where you will sit and not fucking complain. And since I can cook, I will go hell's kitchen style on the stove. ” she declared, a playful challenge glimmering in her eyes. 

“Hey, look I’m game, but only if you let me judge your cooking like I’m the god himself Ramsay.” he exclaimed, his excitement unmistakable. “Just let me know when. I’ll bring the snacks and the commentary.”

As the evening progressed, they shared stories about childhood memories, dreams, and the quirks that made them who they were. With each revelation, Y/n felt a deeper connection forming, an understanding that perhaps taking a little time away from work wouldn’t derail her ambitions after all. 

Maybe it was time to let a little chaos in, she thought, as their conversation twisted and turned down unexpected paths, igniting sparks of joy she hadn’t anticipated, making her question everything she thought she knew about herself and about love.

Minghao got the vibe that his little plan for making Y/n fall for him could potentially end up with him feeling the same way, but not yet. He pushed that feeling deep down inside his gut, almost like he could hide it from everyone, including himself. His heart raced with excitement, but mingled with a twinge of anxiety. He didn’t want to rush things or scare her off with his burgeoning feelings. Just because she was opening up didn’t mean she was ready for more, and he wanted to tread carefully even if it was just to fuck around for a bet with his friends. 

“So, Y/n, since you’re not working tomorrow, want to come hang out at my place for a bit? Have a nightcap? Maybe watch a movie or something?” Minghao questioned, his voice casual, but the flicker of anticipation in his eyes betrayed him.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the prospect of going to his place stirring a mix of excitement and nerves within her. She knew this was a step beyond their playful banter, a leap into a territory where she would need to confront what she was feeling. But the words “why not?” danced on the tip of her tongue. 

“Sure, I’d love that,” she replied, a hint of eagerness surprising even herself. “But fair warning, if we’re watching a movie, it has to be a good one. Nothing corny please.”

“Oh come on, you seem like you’d love a good rom-com, I can tell.” Minghao laughed, and she found herself laughing along, the playful banter feeling natural and comforting.

As they bickered back and forth about their movie preferences, Y/n felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him. Maybe this was the chaos she needed in her life—this lighthearted connection that sparked something new and exhilarating.

“I know just the film to break your resistance,” Minghao declared, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “Prepare yourself for a classic, then. I think you’ll love it, it’s one of my favorites.” 

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But if it’s as terrible as I imagine, you owe me.” Y/n countered playfully, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. 

“Deal.” he shot back with a cheeky grin, and the two clinked their glasses together in agreement, the camaraderie between them solidifying.

As they finished their drinks and shared a few more laughs, Y/n couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was just the beginning—like an entrance into a world she had pushed away for too long, forever maybe.. And Minghao, with his undeniable charm and knack for fun, was animating a side of her she had almost forgotten existed.

After wrapping up the evening at the bar, they stepped back into the cool night air. The streets were softly illuminated, the stars twinkling overhead, creating an atmosphere that was very special. As they walked side by side toward Minghao's apartment, the distance felt comfortable, but somehow charged with an undercurrent of anticipation.

“Y/n,” Minghao said, breaking the gentle silence, “I know we’ve only just started hanging out, but I just want to make sure you feel okay about this. I mean, about coming over.” He glanced at her, his expression earnest. “No pressure at all—I just genuinely enjoy your company.I’m not trying to be a player or whatever you assumed I was when we first met.”

His sincerity made her heart flutter. “I’m glad you said that, but it was fuck boy and you maybe have proved yourself beyond that title. I enjoy this too, and I think it’ll be fun to hang out more and get to know you. Just…uh, promise you wont judge me too harshly if I end up hogging the blanket during the movie or talking with popcorn in my mouth or something.” 

“Fair warning accepted,” he replied, a teasing gleam in his eye. “I might have to initiate a blanket-sharing strategy, I think we can make it work.” 

They both laughed, the playful energy crackling between them as they approached his building. Maybe she could allow herself to embrace this unexpected chaos, to explore a connection without overthinking it for once. And who knows? Perhaps Minghao wouldn’t just be a passing ship but a delightful step into a new chapter of her life. 

As they stepped into his cozy apartment, Y/n tucked that thought away for later, intent on simply enjoying the moment—and the thrill of where it might lead them.

Minghao took her coat off her shoulders, hanging it on the small black hooks by his front door. Sliding his own off gently placing them side by side. Instructing her where to place her shoes and bag on the marble entry table donning photos of his friends and family. 

“Your apartment is really cute, I can tell you like living here. It has a warm feel to it.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Minghao smiled taking in a whiff of his tobacco scented room spray, and grabbing y/n’s hand to lead her into his living room, taking a brief stop at his bar cart and grabbing a bottle of wine, while handing her two glasses to carry in her empty hand. 

The aroma of the wine filled the space as he poured their glasses, the deep crimson liquid swirling beautifully.

Minghao grinned, taking a sip of his own before handing one of the glasses over to her. Their fingers brushed for a moment, sending a spark of electricity that made her smile shyly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab the remote.”

Y/n settled onto the couch, sinking into the overly plush cushions. She took a moment to look around, noting the way the soft lighting cast a warm glow over the walls adorned with art—pieces that seemed to reflect Minghao’s adventurous spirit, each one telling a story.

When he returned, remote in hand, he plopped down beside her, his warmth radiating through her as he casually leaned back, scrolling through his streaming options. “Alright, let’s see what we have here. Brace yourself for my fucking unmatched taste in cinema,” he teased, glancing at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Give me all that you got, I’m ready,” she replied with playful confidence, leaning into the moment.

With a few flicks of the remote, they settled on a classic action-comedy. The opening credits rolled as they adjusted their seats, finding a naturally comfortable closeness. The shared space between them began to feel charged with anticipation. 

As the film began, they laughed together at the antics on screen, occasionally glancing at each other, enjoying the laughter as a bridge between their hearts. Every shared chuckle seemed to layer on the connection that was forming, an unspoken understanding lacing the air around them.

“Minghao, I, uh have got to admit, this isn’t what I expected tonight,” Y/n said during a quiet moment, her eyes sparkling. “But I’m really glad it worked out and that I met you.”

“Yeah? Really? Me too,” he replied, his gaze softening as he turned to her. “I’ve wanted to hang out like this for a while. I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same, but I’m glad we did. I’m glad I forced you to give me your phone number that day.” 

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his honesty. She had been guarded for so long, and here was Minghao, effortlessly peeling away at her layers with every shared moment.

As the movie progressed, he reached for the popcorn bowl perched on the coffee table, offering it to her. Their fingers brushed again, igniting an electric thrill that danced between them. The film faded into the background as Y/n found herself getting lost in the depths of his gaze.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” she began, leaning in slightly, “your blanket-sharing strategy may be your ultimate plan to seduce me. I see you.”

Minghao chuckled, taking her playful jab in stride. “Guilty as charged. What can I say? Who could resist a cozy blanket and beautiful company?” He pulled the soft throw from behind the couch, draping it over their laps.

As he settled back beside her, their shoulders nudged together under the blanket, his hand wrapped around her thigh and Y/n felt her heart race. There was an undeniable chemistry in the air, palpable like the fragrance of the wine swirling around them. 

Without thinking too much about it, she rested her head on his shoulder, throwing her hair back to reveal her neck—not as a move, just a way to make herself more comfortable. As she leaned in, she caught the subtle scent of Minghao’s cologne, warm and inviting, and felt the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder beneath her cheek. It was a small gesture, yet it felt so natural, almost like an instinctive draw to his warmth.

Minghao looked down at her with a side eye, surprised at how effortlessly they had crossed this invisible line. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin looked under the low light and the way her eyes widened with joy as she laughed at the antics on the screen. Her laughter was contagious, reverberating through him and making his heart race a little faster, a little louder in the calm of the room.

Suddenly, Minghao felt an unfamiliar pang of anxiety creep into his chest. The bet had seemed innocent—a way to explore the chemistry simmering between them—but now it felt like a threaded line tugging at him in different directions. Maybe the bet was a bad idea after all, because now he felt himself falling for someone without knowing what could come next, just like that. It was as if he had opened a door to an inevitable chaos while still trying to remain in control.

Yet every time she shifted slightly against him, every laugh that slipped from her lips, deepened the connection he felt. He had initially thought he’d be the one charming her, the one doing the chasing, but here they were, and Y/n’s mere presence had knocked him off his feet. It startled him, this flicker of vulnerability—that maybe he wasn’t just playing a game; he was investing real emotions.

“You okay?” Y/n murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, her brow slightly furrowed as she noticed the contemplative look on his face.

He quickly masked his thoughts with an easygoing smile. “Yeah, just caught up in the movie,” he replied, trying to divert her attention. “The action scenes are really intense, right?”

Though she seemed to accept his diversion with a playful nod, he could see the hint of curiosity lingering in her eyes, a flash that told him she sensed something in the air between them. A moment of silence stretched between them like a tightly pulled string, neither of them willing to break it. Instead, they allowed the movie to fill the space, as he leaned down and planted a soft kiss against her lips. Something subtle and quick that was just perfect for the moment and wouldn’t derail the nice night they were sharing, he wasn’t ready for that yet. 

As the film progressed, Y/n shifted again, curling her body towards him slightly as a particularly funny scene played out, her laughter bubbling forth. It was that unfiltered joy he found intoxicating—a refreshing reminder that life could be this light, this fun, and maybe even a little crazy.

Day 4 - The Competition

During a group outing with friends, Minghao decided to reveal the second phase of his plan: he started being annoyingly competitive. “Let’s have a game night.” he declared, his voice ringing with enthusiasm as he rallied everyone around him. "I challenge you all to a series of ridiculous contests, from karaoke battles to board games. Losers buy the drinks." There was a mixture of excitement and groans from the group, but Minghao was unfazed. He thrived in this atmosphere, eager to galvanize Y/n into joining him in the chaos.

Y/n, who he knew hated losing, found herself reluctantly swept up in the energy of the night. A glimmer of excitement sparked in her eyes, even as she partnered with Minghao, who pretended to be completely uninterested in the competition. She could see the mischievous glint behind his facade, his playfulness luring her in.

As they tackled their first karaoke challenge, Minghao grabbed the microphone. He belted out an off-key rendition of her favorite song, doing little to hide his comedic flair. “You're fucking terrible at this.” Y/n teased him, trying to contain the laughter that bubbled up at the sight of his unfiltered enthusiasm.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get you to help me improve,” Minghao shot back, his smile never wavering. He pointed the microphone at her cheekily, inviting her to join in. The playful energy between them was palpable, the laughter of their friends helped her gain confidence.

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t quell the smile creeping onto her lips. “You know I fucking suck at singing, right?” she joked, hopping up on stage beside him. In a moment of spontaneity, she grabbed the microphone and took the lead, pouring her heart into the next part of the song, using her off-key notes as a comedic backdrop. Her confidence radiated, and soon the others joined in, clapping and singing along.

The laughter and energy of the room felt electric, and for a moment, the competition melted away, leaving only joy. The night continued with a series of board games and ridiculous challenges, each one causing Minghao to lean in closer to Y/n as they plotted ways to win. 

 “What’s your game plan?” he whispered to her, though the intensity of his smile hinted he was thoroughly enjoying the game itself more than he let on. The way his eyes sparkled made her heart race a little, stirring a thrill she hadn’t anticipated and in that moment all she wanted to do was wipe the smirk off his face with her lips.

“Honestly? I think our only plan is to distract the other teams with our charm,” Y/n replied, gesturing theatrically. “We’re clearly the most entertaining, so I kind of like it. It's a sweep.”

Minghao laughed, and the sound resonated in her chest. “Perfect strategy.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers as they whispered strategies into the fray of friendly competition raging around them.

As the night wore on, the playful banter and friendly sabotage culminated in a final showdown—an impromptu trivia contest that had everyone shouting questions at one another. “This one’s a gimme. Come on.” Minghao said, grinning ear to ear as he looked at Y/n. “I’ll let you take this one.”

She raised an eyebrow, half-surprised by his sudden willingness to let her answer. “Uh-huh, so this is your secret strategy—make me do all the work?” she said, nudging him playfully.

“Only the smart person's work,” Minghao shot back, laughter dancing in his voice as he leaned into her side. “And besides, I can’t afford another karaoke performance like that—I’m salvaging my reputation here.”

She smirked, appreciating the electric vibe still lingering in the air. “Fine, but you better promise to make up for it after this.”

Their competitive banter continued as the final questions rolled in. Y/n felt surprisingly exhilarated, and she realized that within the madness of the game night—amidst the silly antics and the thrill of competition—something deeper was taking root in her heart. Minghao, in all his competitive glory, was not just a friend; he was somebody who brought out a side in her she hadn’t even known existed.

Day 5 - The Realization

As time progressed, y/n found herself letting her guard down, enjoying Minghao’s company more than she intended. They shared late-night conversations, honest stories of their pasts, and hilarious anecdotes that made her laugh until she cried. But just as quickly as those feelings bloomed, fear crept in. Could she afford to get attached?

Both of them shied away from being honest with their feelings as a matter of protection from their pain in the past. 

Minghao especially realized how complicated the situation was. Could he really move forward with her without telling her the truth of why he asked her out in the first place? However, if he tells her the truth, he could lose her altogether. Each day that he hesitated felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, an unspoken tension hanging between them like the heavy clouds before a storm.

He recalled the tender moments they shared—the laughter, the stolen glances, the way her smile lit him up even when he felt like the weight of the world was on him. But lurking beneath those cherished memories was a foundation built on secrets and half-truths. He grappled with the fear that if he revealed the underlying reason for his affection, she might see him as just another guy in her life trying to throw her off her path, rather than someone who genuinely cared.

The truth was like a double-edged sword; it could liberate him or shatter the fragile bond they had formed. In those quiet moments, he could feel his heart wrestling with his mind—one part needing authenticity, while another begged for the safety of keeping his own secret. Was there a path that could lead them both to what they wanted rather than hurting them both?

He knew that eventually, he would have to choose a direction, but every path was filled with uncertainty. Perhaps, for now, he would focus on the little things—the warmth of her hand in his, the gentle way they navigated tough conversations. Yet, deep inside, he wondered how long they could remain strangers to their own truths. The clock was ticking, and each moment felt like an opportunity slipping away. 

Day 6 - The Plan Backfires

In an effort to push Y/n away to avoid hurting her, Minghao started purposely sending mixed signals. He ignored her texts, acted uninterested in their plans, and even pretended to be busy whenever she attempted to schedule time together. But to his surprise, Y/n didn’t waver. She matched his energy with playful banter and unwavering support, showing up outside his office with his favorite coffee just when he needed it—the same way he had done for her.

Each time she appeared, a smile lighting up her face, it reminded him of how deeply she understood him, and he knew his plan was backfiring. She took his teasing in stride, firing back with witty comebacks that reminded him of the vibrant connection they shared. He felt the walls he was trying to build between them start to crumble, intrigued and frustrated by the strength of her positive attitude. 

Why was he pushing her away when all she seemed to want was him? He could see the concern behind her laughter, the way her brow furrowed slightly when she caught him lost in thought, and it tore at his heart. Was this really the right way to protect her, or was he simply running from something that could be good for both of them?

On one particularly tough day, as he stared out the window, he caught a glimpse of her leaning against the wall, coffee in hand, waiting for him to take a moment to breathe. The sunlight caught her hair, giving her a glow that made her look like an angel in real life, and his chest tightened. She wasn't the kind of person to give up easily, and maybe that’s something he was drawn to. 

Instead of the irritation he anticipated feeling, Minghao began to appreciate her staying power. In that moment, he felt both grateful and terrified—grateful that she cared enough to stick around, and terrified that the longer he held back, the more he risked losing a part of himself he had forgotten even existed.

With each passing day, the facade he’d constructed started to feel less like protection and more like a prison. He saw how much she believed in him, not just as a friend, but as someone capable of finding happiness again. But as the walls crumbled beneath her unwavering kindness, he grappled with the realization that if he didn’t confront the truth soon, he might not just push her away, he might just lose her. Minghao knew he would have to decide soon to continue the charade or to find the courage to let her in. 

Day 7 - The Confession

One night, while they were taking a walk, the air was heavy with tension, and Minghao couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you keep coming back? I’m clearly trying to push you away,” he blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush, tinged with frustration and desperation.

Y/n stopped, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious for once. “Because, Minghao, I see something in you. I didn’t set out to fall for you, but I can’t help it. You starting to pull away is confusing me. What changed overnight that you can barely even look at me anymore?” Her tone was both challenging and vulnerable, a blend that cut through the discomfort hanging between them.

“It’s because—” Minghao swallowed hard, his heart racing as he looked into her eyes, feeling the weight of the truth pressing against his chest. He focused on her furrowed expression, “This was a bet, and I—”

“A bet?” Y/n’s voice rose, sharp almost like a knife diving into his chest. The surprised look on her face shifted rapidly from confusion to hurt, and it churned something deep within him. He was struck again by the disbelief in her eyes.

The silence between them was thick and suffocating. Minghao took a breath, searching for the right words, but they were lost on him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” he pressed on, his voice softer now. “We started out as a joke—something to distract myself. It was my friend's idea that I foolishly agreed to. And then… then you became real to me.” He paused, trying to convey the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.

Y/n crossed her arms, visibly hurt, but her gaze didn't waver. “You mean to tell me that all this time, all those moments we had—that they were just part of some fucking game with your buddies?” Her voice trembled slightly.

“No. It may have started that way, but it turned into something much deeper,” he pleaded, desperate to convey his truth. “I didn’t plan to fall for you. I didn’t plan on feeling this way at all. But once I did, I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought pushing you away would protect you from the truth.”

Y/n shook her head, her expression a blend of frustration and heartbreak. “You think pushing me away protects me? Minghao, it only pushes me into uncertainty. If you had just told me from the start, I could have chosen to stay or walk away. But now, you’ve  just made everything ten times fucking worse.” 

Feeling increasingly guilty he stepped closer, trying to bridge the distance he had created. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should have been honest with you. I never wanted to hurt you. The fear of losing you, it…” he trailed off, unsure how to articulate his feelings.

Y/n took a deep breath, her demeanor softening just a fraction. “You need to make a choice, Minghao. Either let me in, all the way, or please let me go. I.. uh, can’t handle this right now. I’ll try to give you a call in a few days or maybe see you around.”

The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, and Minghao realized that it was time to confront not only the truth of their beginning but also the reality of what was blossoming between them. He had been running from the idea of vulnerability for so long, but now faced with Y/n’s determination, he found just enough strength within himself to start breaking down the walls he had built. As he watched her walk away from him not turning back around like he wished she would have, for once, Minghao felt the stirrings of hope amidst his fear.

Day 8 - A Challenge

With Minghao’s words hanging in the air, Y/n found herself re-evaluating her feelings. She had initially wanted to leave him there on the street as a part of her past, but the connection they shared was stronger than she had anticipated. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want it to end after all, but she wasn’t willing to let him get away with tricking her so easily.

She decided on her own plan—something to throw him off his game truly in her own style just to get back at him, but only all in good fun. It was time to show Minghao that she wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

Y/n had gotten in contact with one of Minghao's friends, a guy named Jisoo whom she had met during their karaoke competition. After a quick chat filled with enthusiasm and laughter, she proposed the idea of entering a “Battle of the Bands”-style karaoke show hosted by her workplace for charity. Jisoo was immediately on board and even rallied a few more of their friends to join in. But Y/n made one thing clear: they absolutely couldn’t let Minghao in on the secret. This was her chance to catch him off guard.

In the following weeks, his friends practiced relentlessly. Y/n wasn't just aiming to win at work; she wanted to create an unforgettable evening, one that would leave Minghao in pure shock. They practiced their songs, and even designed matching outfits for the event—a whimsically themed performance that would be impossible to forget.

Finally, the night of the charity show arrived. The venue was filled with colorful lights and the buzz of excitement as coworkers and friends gathered, taking their seats for what promised to be a lively night. Y/n donned a not necessarily work appropriate dress that reflected the playful spirit of her prank and maybe to catch someone's eyes.  She could already see Minghao mingling with some of his friends, his laughter filling the air, and she felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation flutter in her stomach.

As the show kicked off, the energy in the room was contagious. The first few acts were entertaining, but Y/n could barely focus. She was waiting for her moment to take the stage and introduce Minghao and the others who were waiting to humiliate their friend gathered backstage, the excitement was palpable. They could hear Minghao in the crowd, cheering loudly for the groups, and Y/n smiled to herself, knowing what was coming next.

When it was their turn to perform, Y/n’s heart raced. She walked onto the stage, focusing on the bright lights and the sea of faces staring back at her. She could spot Minghao in the crowd before she introduced him, watching his slightly puzzled but amused look on his face as he recognized members of his circle.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Y/n shouted into the microphone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, clinking their glasses and waving them in the air as the spotlight warmed her skin. 

“I have a special surprise for you all this evening!” The anticipation in the room built up in waves as she paused for effect. “You won’t believe what I’ve been up to. If you haven’t already heard, I recently met someone!” 

The crowd roared in excitement, whoops and claps echoing around the venue. 

“Shocking, right? You might have seen him around the office. Can we get a spotlight on him?” 

The beam of light swept through the crowd until it landed on Minghao, who looked around, momentarily startled. 

“Everyone, meet Minghao!” Y/n continued, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We actually met at the coffee shop below the office. I was drowning in my mid-week project when he approached my table and asked me out on a date. I’ll admit, I was pretty hesitant at first. But he worked his charm on me.” 

She smiled warmly, letting reminiscence wash over her. “We ended up going out a few times after that, but just a few nights ago, he let me in on a little secret—it was all a bet set up by these guys right here!” 

Y/n dramatically pointed behind her at a group of men clad in glittery outfits, their faces a mix of embarrassment and amusement as they realized they’d been called out. Laughter erupted once again, and Minghao could only shake his head, a smirk on his lips as the crowd carried on, fully entertained by the unfolding story.

The laughter from the crowd soared, and Y/n could see Minghao’s face shifting from amusement to slight embarrassment when a man behind him yelled up to the stage. “A bet? Seriously?” he called out.

“Yes. You heard that right.” Y/n responded, leaning into the microphone as she theatrically rolled her eyes, embracing the absurdity of it all. “Turns out, my romantic escapades were all part of some grand scheme these guys made up.” 

The men behind her chuckled sheepishly, with one of them, a tall guy with a dazzling smile, shouting playfully, “In our defense, we thought it was a great idea. Including Minghao.”

“Oh, it definitely was,” Y/n replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the great dates,you guys. I had no idea I was part of a reality show, I watch them enough you’d think I’d catch on.” She paused for comedic effect, letting the laughter settle before leaning closer to the audience, her tone more serious. “You know, honestly, Minghao surprised me in ways I never expected.”

She glanced over at Minghao, whose cheeks were slightly flushed under the spotlight but wore a sincere smile. “I was a bit hesitant at first, sure. But then we really connected. And who would have guessed that the guy who interrupted my focused day with a charming smile would become someone so special?”

Cheers erupted from the crowd again, and Y/n took a deep breath, enticing them with what was coming next. 

“And, since we’re being honest here,” she continued, teasingly leaning into her role as the narrator of this unfolding tale, “I feel like we need to make Minghao work just a little for his redemption. No?” The audience murmured in excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve arranged a little surprise for him tonight,” Y/n said, gesturing to the side of the stage. “Minghao, my friend, you've got just one more challenge ahead of you.”

Out of nowhere, a karaoke microphone was handed to Minghao from his left side and the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter again. Minghao held it awkwardly, glancing at Y/n with a mix of uncertainty and delight. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, genuinely confused but slightly intrigued. 

“You’re going to sing! Duh. Don’t be dumb,” Y/n declared, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “The audience deserves to see what they’re in for. Plus, it’s only fair after that little trick you pulled. You’re going to serenade us all.” 

Minghao let out a laugh, his initial shock transforming into acceptance. The crowd erupted once again, chanting, “Minghao! Minghao!” 

Feeling the energy in the room, Minghao stepped forward, climbing up the stairs with a new light in his eyes. “Alright then, I guess I have no choice but to give the audience what they want!” He took a deep breath and gazed at Y/n one last time before launching into a fun, upbeat song that brought everyone to their feet.

As he sang, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a rush of  affection. Despite the insane circumstances that brought them together, there was something genuine unfolding between them, amplified by the shared laughter and excitement of the evening. 

With each note, Minghao seemed to shed any lingering nerves, pouring his heart out into the music. The audience was enthralled, dancing and singing along, swept up in the joy of the moment. Y/n found herself cheering louder than anyone else, her laughter mingling with his infectious energy.

And maybe, just maybe, she thought as she watched him shine on stage, this night was the perfect reminder that sometimes the best stories come from the unexpected. It wasn’t just about the twists and turns of their initial meeting; it was about the connections forged when they embraced things together. As Minghao finished with a flourish, the crowd erupted into applause, and Y/n couldn't help but wonder how many more surprises awaited them on this journey.

Day 9 - A Change of Heart

Determined to make a last-ditch effort to win her back, Minghao doubled down on his resolve. He sent her a series of texts brimming with encouragement, recounting the fun they’d had the night before. “I never imagined I’d be up on stage like that, but it was totally worth it,” he wrote, his fingers flying across the screen. “You have this incredible way of bringing out the best and most ridiculous in people. I genuinely had a good time, especially seeing those fuckers in glitter pants.” 

He poured his heart into his messages, sharing how her laughter had ignited a spark within him, and how getting to know her was quickly becoming the highlight of his life. “You made me feel brave, even while I was totally making a fool of myself,” he typed with a grin, imagining her laughter echoing in his ears. “And honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing about it. You’re amazing, Y/n.”

As the hours passed without a response, doubts started to creep into his mind. Had he gone too far with the whole bet thing? Would she take his lighthearted texts as desperation? But he couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing there was something real between them.. So, he gathered his courage and decided to call. 

When Y/n picked up the phone, her voice sounded bright but cautious. “Hey, Minghao. What’s up?”

“Y/n, Hi I don’t know if you saw my texts, you’re probably busy, but I just wanted to check in after last night,” he replied, his heart racing. “I hope you’re still not too mad at me for the bet thing. I promise I didn’t mean for it to be a setup. I actually really enjoyed being with you."

There was a momentary silence, and he held his breath, waiting for her response. “I’m not mad,” she finally said, her tone softening. “I thought it was an interesting twist, honestly. You had me laughing for hours after I got over it a little bit and after talking to your friends. But I just… didn’t want to feel like I was part of some game.”

“I totally understand,” he said quickly, wanting to assure her. “I’m really sorry for how it started. But I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. I liked who I was with you last night and every night really , and I want to get to know you better—like, for real, not as a bet.” 

Y/n paused again, and he could almost hear her contemplating his words. “You mean that?” 

“Absolutely,” Minghao responded, feeling more confident. “I know we started under unusual circumstances, but every moment I’ve spent with you has felt real. You bring out a side of me I didn’t really know I had, and I really love who I am when I’m with you. So, what do you say? Can we start over?” 

He could hear her take a deep breath from the other end, and his heart raced in anticipation. “Okay, let’s do that,” she finally said, her voice brightening. “But let’s be clear the only bets this time will be on actual games, not people's feelings”

Minghao laughed, relief washing over him. “Deal. Just me trying to impress you from now on.” 

“You already have, that was your promise from the start and you followed through.”

As they chatted and made plans for their next outing—a casual coffee date, just like they first met no strings attached—Minghao felt a renewed sense of hope. He was determined to show her that he was sincere, that the bet was just a silly beginning to what he hoped would be a beautiful journey together.

After they hung up, Minghao couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t just about winning her back; it was about starting anew, embracing the possibility of a real thing. And as excitement bubbled in his chest, he began to plan how he could make their next date unforgettable. After all, if Y/n could turn a wild bet into a night filled with laughter, he was ready to dive in and see where this newfound adventure would take them both.

Day 10 - The Second First Date.

As the days crept closer to their date, Minghao found himself overrun with excitement and nerves. He wanted everything to be perfect. Standing in front of his closet, he debated over his wardrobe, tossing shirts onto the bed haphazardly. He could feel the pressure mounting the stakes felt higher this time—not just because he was going to see Y/n again, but because he wanted her to see him as more than just that guy than a guy who bet on her feelings.

Eventually, he settled on a casual but stylish outfit, one that he felt confident in. Being genuine was the goal, after all, and he didn’t want to put on a facade. Just before he headed out the door, he glanced in the mirror, giving himself a final pep talk. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

At the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the chatter of customers. Minghao arrived early, pacing a bit with anticipation. He chose the same cozy corner table her first noticed her at, where they’d have some privacy but still be part of the lively atmosphere. 

When Y/n walked in, his heart skipped a beat. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair cascading over her shoulders and a warm smile lighting up her face. She spotted him, her eyes sparkling with familiarity, and his nervousness began to fade away as she approached.

“Hi, nice to meet you, you’re Minghao right?” she greeted, her voice filled with warmth.

“Hey, yeah. I’m glad you made it,” Minghao replied, standing to greet her. They exchanged a brief hug, and it felt surprisingly comfortable.

As they settled into their seats with steaming cups of coffee in hand, the conversation flowed naturally, as if they’d never left off. They chatted about everything their favorite shows, upcoming plans, and the ridiculous things they’d seen online lately. Laughter punctuated their discussion, the kind that made the world around them feel distant.

At one point, Y/n playfully leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, tell me—what’s your strategy for impressing me today? More dance moves? Karaoke?”

Minghao laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Let’s save the dancing for another time. I’m still trying to recover from the last performance,” he said with a smirk. “But I promise I have a few tricks up my sleeve—nothing too embarrassing.”

“Just promise me no more betting, I’m out of chips for now.” she said, stern but unable to hide her smile.

“Cross my heart,” he promised dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “From here on out, it’s just me and you having honest and genuine fun.”

Their coffees had transformed into connection, a beautiful blend of camaraderie and flirtation. As they moved towards dessert, Minghao felt a spark growing between them. 

With a playful glint in his eye, he decided to take a leap. “So, if we’re doing this—like, seeing where it goes, how about I take you on a mini-adventure next time? Something a little less…traditional?” 

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “And what exactly does that entail? You are not talking about hiking, or something like that right? I would kill you.” 

“A  little scavenger hunt around the city?” he suggested, warming to the idea. “We could visit all the spots we love, and maybe even some new places. Get ice cream, take pictures, and just enjoy the day.”

Her face lit up with enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing. I love it.”

Seeing her excitement filled him with joy; this felt right. With their coffee date unfolding so smoothly, he was beginning to understand that this was not just about rekindling a spark but about building something new. 

As they wrapped up, Minghao walked her to her car, and the atmosphere felt electric. Before saying goodbye, he couldn’t resist leaning in slightly. “If I promise to make each outing better than the last, will you promise to keep coming back?”

Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I think I can manage that, if you also kiss me” she replied, her smile brightening the evening.

With a renewed sense of hope, Minghao pulled her in from her waist kissing her multiple times before backing up slightly and letting her get into the driver's seat, she rolled down the window and wagged her finger at him for one more kiss, and then he  watched her drive away, heart brimming with anticipation. He was ready to dive into this adventure, ready to explore whatever lay ahead with Y/n by his side. Their story was only just beginning, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like everything was falling into place. 

Epilogue

The days that followed were an exciting blur of planning and anticipation. Minghao found himself digging into his old notebooks, jotting down ideas for the scavenger hunt, trying to think of all the little things that made their city special. He wanted to weave in personal touches that would make the day unforgettable for Y/n—places that could bring back memories of their first date or spots he knew would make her full of  joy when he revealed them.

With each idea, he found he was not just planning an outing but also crafting an experience centered around her, and this realization filled him with a sense of purpose. He’d always believed that little moments could mean everything, and now he was eager to show Y/n just how much he cherished their new relationship.

When the day of the scavenger hunt arrived, Minghao woke up with a mix of nerves and excitement. He’d set everything in motion, and now all he needed to do was let the day unfold naturally. He picked a comfortable outfit—something relaxed but still appealing—and made his way to the meeting spot they had agreed on: a park that was alive with the sounds of laughter, children playing, and the distant strumming of a guitarist.

As he waited, he felt a buzz of anticipation in the air around him. The moment he spotted Y/n walking towards him, his heart soared. She looked radiant, her hair dancing in the breeze, and her smile lit up the entire park. 

“Hey, you.” she greeted, a lilt in her voice that made him grin wider.

“Ready for a little adventure?” he asked, trying to mask the excitement bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

“Absolutely. Just tell me what we’re doing,” she replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“First off, we have to get our scavenger hunt gear,” he said, pulling out a small tote bag he had packed. Inside were colored pencils,a camera for taking photos at each stop, a notebook for jotting down clues, and a list of locations they'd be visiting.

“What’s all this?” she laughed, peering inside with delight.

“Just some supplies to help us document our adventure” Minghao said cheerily. “The first stop is that little coffee stand we found last week, where they have the pastries.”

With a shared laugh and playful banter, they made their way through the park, stopping for pictures at every significant spot—an old oak tree where they took selfies, a fountain that they threw pennies in while making a wish, and a mural that had caught Minghao’s eye during their last outing. The connection between them deepened as they shared stories, memories, and more feelings than ever. As they reached the coffee stand, Minghao took a moment to watch her as she chose her pastry. She had a way of illuminating the boring everyday things, and he felt grateful every time she shot him a smile. After they got their treats, he pulled out the next clue.

“Okay, next up,” he said with excitement, glancing down at the list he had created. “We have to find the spot where they sell the best ice cream in town. But there’s a catch—you have to lead the way.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Me? Alright.. This should be interesting.”

With her leading the way, they began to navigate the streets, stopping to chat with street performers and peeking into quirky shops. As they reached the ice cream parlor, the enticing scent of waffle cones met them, and they quickly placed their orders. 

“That is definitely a win,” Minghao said, savoring the first bite of his matcha chocolate chip. He looked over to see Y/n’s eyes light up with delight as she tasted her basic but cute vanilla with sprinkles.

As they sat outside, sharing stories about their favorite childhood flavors, Minghao felt a warmth spreading in his chest. Each moment they shared layered on a sense of intimacy, deepening their bond.

The rest of the day continued in this delightful fashion, each stop on the scavenger hunt bringing them closer together, transforming their connection into something rooted in genuine affection. The final clue led them to an overlook, a perfect sunset view of the city sprawled out before them.

As they stood side by side, overlooking the vibrant hues of orange and pink washed across the sky, Minghao turned to her, feeling the weight of the moment. 

“I’m really glad I took this leap,” he said, his voice sincere. “Today has been incredible. You make everything better, including me.”

Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I feel the same way. This day has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time. Really, thank you.”

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, he could feel the pull toward her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle yet tender kiss. It was a clear promise of what was to come—not just in this moment, but in all the moments yet to unfold.

Standing there, as the last light of day faded into twilight, Minghao felt a newfound certainty settle within him. This was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure with Y/n, and he was ready to explore every twist and turn that life had to offer together.

Minghao had set out to lose a girl in ten days but instead found something he never expected: a genuine connection. As he and y/n embarked on their new adventure as one and they both realized that sometimes love sneaks up on you when you least expect it, and sometimes, the risks of opening your heart are worth every moment.

[amyzworldds]

Oh this is out of the happy/fluff side of the 14th member lol maybe if yn sneaks out again she'll be on a real accident maybe danger and she'll finally learn her lesson and her calling scoups for help FINALLY loll and total chaos and him panicking (little bit of angst) (I'd understand if you won't write this just an idea HAHAHAHHA)

Part Two: Night Market Nightmare

Masterlist | Part 1

Seventeen's Seungcheol takes Y/N to his hometown on a rare day off, sparking a whirlwind of chaos as she overpacks, showers his dog Kkuma with affection, and turns his car into a glittery shrine. Their misadventure escalates from a midnight ice cream run to a lively night market, but takes a dark turn. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Humor, Heavy angst (mention of harassment)

The midnight air was crisp as Seungcheol and Y/N slipped out of the house, her arm looped through his like a koala clinging to a tree. They hit the convenience store, Y/N darting straight for the ice cream freezer, snagging a chocolate cone, then piling on gummies and a candy bar despite Seungcheol’s stern “Ten minutes, Y/N—ten minutes!” She just smirked, licking her cone, “Sure, oppa—ten minutes is forever!” He sighed, already sensing defeat as her “ten-minute” promise evaporated like smoke.

The cashier—a lanky college kid with a grin—rang them up, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Hey, you’re from Seventeen, right? There’s a new night market five minutes away—street food, a park, live bands. You’d love it!” Y/N’s eyes lit up like fireworks, her ice cream dripping forgotten as she gasped, “Night market?! Street food?! Bands?! Oppa, we have to go!”

“No!” Seungcheol snapped, shoving change into his pocket. “We’re going home—ice cream was the deal!”

But Y/N unleashed the full arsenal—puppy eyes, clasped hands, and a pleading whine. “Pleeeease, Coups oppa! It’s a night market—I’ve never been to one! Think of the food—the fun! I’ll make you my favorite member forever! I’ll do anything you say—no more trouble, I swear on Kkuma’s tiara! Days off are rare—let’s live a little, away from the spotlight!”

He glared, arms crossed, but her logic gnawed at him. Rest days were rare, and she looked like a kicked bunny in that sleeper. “Fine,” he growled, throwing his hands up. “But no chaos—or you’re grounded ‘til you’re 30!”

“Yes!” she cheered, latching onto his shirt like a human GPS—directionless as ever—and dragging him toward the market. “You’re the best, oppa—top of my list!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, trudging after her. “Famous last words.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

The night market buzzed despite the hour—stalls glowed with fairy lights, crowds munched on skewers, and a band strummed on a tiny stage. Y/N’s ice cream vanished in record time, her eyes locking onto a tanghulu vendor—glossy strawberry skewers glistening like jewels. “Tanghulu! Oppa, now!” she squealed, yanking him over. He paid, grumbling, “Slow down—you’ll bankrupt me!”—but she was already off, darting to a tteokbokki stall, then a hotteok cart, him trailing like a tired wallet on legs.

The band kicked into a lively tune, and Seungcheol paused, watching them strum on their rickety stage. Memories hit—Seventeen’s early days, small gigs, big dreams. “Huh,” he mused, lost in nostalgia. “We started like that—now it’s arenas and world tours.” He didn’t notice Y/N’s grip slip from his shirt, her bunny headband bobbing away into the crowd.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N, meanwhile, had spotted a sausage-and-rice-cake skewer vendor and bolted, drooling, “Sausage heaven—gimme!” She snagged one, then darted to a fish cake stall, then a corn dog cart—arms piling up with greasy goodies, oblivious to Seungcheol’s absence. She chattered to herself, “Oppa’s gonna love this—wait ‘til he tries the—” She turned, arms overflowing, and froze. No Seungcheol. Just a sea of strangers. “Oppa?!”

Panic hit like a freight train. “Oh no, oh no, oh NO! I promised him a fun night—no trouble! Where is he?!” Her phone? Back in her room. Her wallet? With him from the convenience store run. She spun in circles, skewers wobbling, a tteokbokki stick nearly impaling a passerby. “Coups oppa! Don’t leave me! I’m lost—again!” She took a frantic bite of her corn dog, muttering, “Okay, stay calm—food helps!”—but her eyes darted wildly, bunny ears flopping like distress signals.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Seungcheol, meanwhile, had clocked her absence the second the band’s song ended. He scanned the crowd—easy peasy, her bunny headband glowed like a neon sign—and spotted her flailing by a skewer stall, arms stuffed with food, yelling his name like a lost toddler. But instead of rushing over, he smirked, ducking behind a takoyaki cart. “Oh, this is gold,” he chuckled, pulling out his phone. “She stickered my car, stole my dog, hijacked my parents—time for payback!”

He zoomed in, snapping pics—Y/N biting a sausage skewer mid-panic, sauce dripping down her chin, yelling, “Coups oppa, where are you?! I’m doomed!” He stifled a laugh, filming as she spun into a cotton candy stall, nearly toppling it, squeaking, “Help! I’m a lost idol—someone save me!” A tteokbokki skewer fell, and she dove for it, wailing, “Nooo, my food! This is your fault, oppa—wherever you are!”

Seungcheol doubled over, wheezing silently behind a trash can. “She’s a walking disaster—look at her go!” He caught her tripping over her own bunny slippers, juggling her haul, muttering, “He’s gonna ground me forever—I swore no trouble! Why me?!” A hotteok slipped, and she caught it with her mouth mid-air, chewing through her freakout. “At least I’ve got food—don’t cry, Y/N, don’t cry!”

He snapped a close-up—her sauce-smeared face, bunny ears askew, eyes wide as she shouted, “Seungcheol, you jerk! I’m telling Eomma you abandoned me!” He cackled, nearly dropping his phone. “This is better than any game—revenge is sweet!”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N stumbled into a balloon vendor, arms trembling under her food tower, whimpering, “He’s gone—he ditched me! I’m a night market orphan!” She bit into her tanghulu, sugar crunching as she scanned the crowd, oblivious to Seungcheol tailing her, filming her every flop. A kid pointed, giggling, “Look, bunny lady’s lost!” and she waved a skewer at him, “Shush, tiny human—I’m a star in crisis!”

Seungcheol, now crouched behind a kimchi pancake stall, wiped tears of laughter. “She’s a sitcom—‘Lost Gremlin: The Food Chronicles’! She’ll never live this down!” He zoomed in as she tripped again, catching a fish cake mid-fall, yelling, “Coups oppa, you owe me ten tanghulus for this!”

He grinned, savoring the show. Her car stickering? Kkuma’s betrayal? Parents’ favoritism? This was his masterpiece—watching her panic, sauce-drenched and bunny-eared, was the revenge of the century. “Wander on, chaos queen,” he whispered, snapping one last pic. “I’ve got enough blackmail for a lifetime!”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s panic had morphed into exhaustion as she wove through the thinning night market crowd, her arms aching from her food haul—tanghulu, tteokbokki, a half-eaten corn dog. She spotted a bench tucked away in a dim corner, far from the bustle, and sighed, “Coups oppa’ll find me—he always does.” She plopped down, setting her snacks beside her, and nibbled on a sausage skewer, rehearsing her apology. “Sorry, oppa—I didn’t mean to ditch you… I’ll clean your car, I swear…” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t notice the shadow creeping closer—a man who’d been trailing her, unnoticed, through the market.

She was mid-bite when he sat beside her, too close. She glanced up, expecting Seungcheol’s familiar scowl, and froze. It wasn’t him. The man’s eyes bored into her, dark and unblinking, and he rasped, “Y/N… I’ve been following you all night.” Her stomach dropped—she knew that face. The sasaeng who’d plagued her for months, flooding her phone with calls, lurking outside schedules, his creepy letters stuffed with warped devotion. Her breath hitched, and she shifted to stand, but his hand clamped onto hers, yanking her into a forced hug.

“Let go!” she yelped, shoving at his chest, tears pricking her eyes as his grip tightened. “Seungcheol! Help!” Her voice cracked, desperate, as she clawed at his arms. “Get off me, or I’ll scream—I swear I will!” Her threats shook with sobs, her bunny headband slipping as she thrashed, tears streaming down her face.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Seungcheol had been hunched behind a stall, chuckling at his phone’s gallery of Y/N’s panicked antics—her sauce-smeared face, her flailing arms—when a chill cut through his amusement. He glanced up, and she was gone. The spot where she’d been juggling food was empty. “Where’d she go?” he muttered, pocketing his phone, unease prickling his spine. His revenge prank felt trivial now—he scanned the food tents, heart ticking faster with each empty corner. “Y/N? Come on, kid, don’t hide…”

No bunny ears, no jangling trinkets. Then his eyes caught the darker edge of the market—a shadowed bench—and his gut twisted. Something was wrong. His feet moved before his brain caught up, dragging him toward the gloom. That’s when he saw her—trembling, sobbing, locked in a stranger’s embrace, her cries piercing the night. “Seungcheol!”

Rage exploded in his chest, blackening his vision. He didn’t think—just ran, fists clenched, and slammed into the man with a roar. His punch landed square on the stalker’s jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground with a sickening thud. “Get your hands off her!” Seungcheol bellowed, looming over him, fist raised for another blow, knuckles already red.

Y/N stumbled free, gasping, and the man staggered up, fury twisting his face. He lunged, swinging wild, and caught Seungcheol’s cheek with a glancing punch. Seungcheol barely flinched—years of pent-up anger at this creep fueled him. He grabbed the man’s collar, slamming him back down, fist crashing into his nose with a crack. “You don’t touch her—ever!” Blood smeared the stalker’s face, but Seungcheol didn’t stop, pinning him as he thrashed, every hit a release of the fear he’d buried for Y/N’s safety.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s sobs choked her as she watched the man hit the ground, Seungcheol’s fist a blur of fury. “Oppa, stop!” she cried, lunging forward, grabbing his arm with shaking hands. “Please—stop it!” Tears blurred her vision, her voice raw as she clung to him, pulling him back. She couldn’t bear it—his rage, the blood, the chaos she’d caused. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry!”

The stalker scrambled up again, dazed but defiant, and swung at Seungcheol’s jaw. Seungcheol ducked, shoving Y/N behind him, and landed a final, bone-crunching punch—down he went, groaning in the dirt. Seungcheol straddled him, holding him down with one hand, yanking out his phone with the other. “Police—now!” he snarled into the call, voice shaking with fury. “I’ve got a stalker harassing my sister—get here fast!”

He didn’t care anymore—company inaction, PR risks, none of it mattered. This creep had crossed the line, and Seungcheol’s protective instincts drowned out everything else. His eyes were black with rage, breath heaving as he kept the man pinned, ignoring the growing crowd.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Police sirens cut through the night, officers swarming the scene. The stalker was cuffed, hauled away spitting curses, while Seungcheol turned to Y/N. She stood trembling, hoodie pulled low, tears carving tracks down her cheeks. He dropped to her side, pulling her into a crushing hug, “You’re okay—you’re safe now.” His voice broke, hands shaking as he tugged her hood up, shielding her from prying eyes.

She buried her face in his chest, sobs muffled, “I’m sorry, oppa—it’s my fault—I dragged you out…” Her words dissolved into hiccups, guilt clawing at her. A police officer recognized them, barking at the crowd, “No pictures—back off!” Another guided them to a squad car, away from the gawking onlookers snapping blurry shots.

At the station, the interview room was cold and stark. Y/N sat silent, head bowed, clutching Seungcheol’s sleeve like a lifeline, her usual spark snuffed out. He answered for her, voice steady but tight, “He’s been stalking her for months—calls, letters, showing up. Tonight, he grabbed her. I stopped him.” His jaw clenched, reliving every punch, every cry she’d let out.

Y/N’s whisper broke the silence, barely audible, “I didn’t mean for this… I didn’t want you hurt…” Her eyes welled up again, guilt crushing her. “If this gets out—your name, the group—I ruined it…”

“Stop that,” he snapped, softer than he meant, pulling her closer. “You didn’t ruin anything—this isn’t on you. I’d punch him a hundred times over.” His throat tightened, anger and love warring in his chest.

The police offered to drive them home, and Seungcheol nodded, guiding Y/N to the car. Her hand trembled in his, head still down, silent tears dripping onto her bunny slippers. He squeezed her fingers, “We’re okay, kid—I’ve got you.” But his heart ached—her cries, her fear, the stalker’s grip burned into him. This wasn’t the hilarious chaos he’d signed up for; it was a wound he’d carry, vowing to shield her from ever again.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The police car rolled to a quiet stop outside Seungcheol’s parents’ house, the midnight silence shattered only by the faint hum of the engine. Seungcheol stepped out first, his bruised lip throbbing, and gently guided Y/N from the backseat. Her bunny slippers dragged on the pavement, her head still bowed, trembling hands clutching his sleeve. He pulled her inside, shutting the door softly, and wrapped her in a tight hug, his arms a shield against the world.

She broke. “I’m sorry, oppa—I’m so sorry!” Her voice cracked into a wail, tears soaking his hoodie as she clung to him, her body shaking. Her eyes caught the purpling bruise on his lip, and she sobbed louder, “Your face—it’s my fault! I dragged you out—if I didn’t, this wouldn’t have happened!” Her fingers brushed his cheek, trembling, and she crumpled against him, guilt pouring out in heaving cries.

“Shh, Y/N-ie, stop,” he murmured, voice thick as he rocked her gently. “It’s not your fault—none of it. You’re safe now, that’s what matters.” His hands rubbed her back, but his own chest ached—her tears cut deeper than the punch he’d taken.

The commotion roused his parents. His mom appeared first, robe tied hastily, eyes wide at the sight—Seungcheol holding a trembling Y/N, her face buried in his chest. His dad followed, concern etching his features. Seungcheol caught their gaze over Y/N’s head and shook his head slightly, mouthing “water.” They nodded, slipping to the kitchen without a word, leaving him to cradle her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Y/N hiccupped, quieter now but still gripping his shirt like he might vanish. “I messed up—I always mess up…”

His mom returned with a glass, setting it on the table, and knelt beside them, wrapping her arms around Y/N too. “Sweetie, no—it’s not your fault,” she soothed, stroking her hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong—don’t carry this, okay?” Her voice was warm, maternal, but Y/N’s tears kept falling, softer now, exhaustion seeping in.

His dad hovered, worry creasing his brow. “She needs rest, Cheol-ah—let her sleep it off.”

Seungcheol nodded, easing Y/N to her feet. “Come on, kid—let’s get you to bed.” She didn’t let go, her hand locked in his, trembling as he guided her to her room. The bunny sleeper hung limp on her frame, her usual chaos replaced by a fragile quiet. He tucked her in, sitting on the edge of the bed as she curled up, still clutching his fingers. “Sleep, Y/N-ie—I’m right here,” he whispered, brushing her hair back until her breathing slowed, eyes fluttering shut.

--------------------------------------------------------------

He slipped out once she drifted off, closing the door softly. His parents waited in the living room, water untouched, faces etched with concern. “Go back to bed,” he said, voice low, forcing a tired smile. “She’s okay now—I’ll handle it.”

“You sure, son?” his dad asked, hesitant. “You’re hurt too—get some rest.”

“I will,” he lied, waving them off. They shuffled back to their room, and Seungcheol trudged to his own, collapsing onto the bed. The adrenaline crashed, leaving a hollow ache. He stared at his bruised knuckles, the stalker’s face flashing in his mind—then Y/N’s terrified cries. “If I’d gone to her sooner…” he muttered, guilt gnawing at him. “I was laughing—playing a stupid game while she…” His throat tightened, eyes stinging. He’d hidden his fear under rage, but now it clawed free—he could’ve lost her.

He grabbed his phone, hands shaking as he dialed Jeonghan, then Joshua on a three-way call. They picked up fast, groggy but alert. “Cheol? What’s wrong?” Jeonghan’s voice cut through, sharp with worry.

“It’s Y/N,” Seungcheol rasped, voice trembling as he spilled it all—the night market, the stalker, the fight, her sobs. “I punched him—over and over—but she was so scared, Hannie, Shua. She’s blaming herself, and I… I should’ve been there. If I’d stopped messing around, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault.” His words broke, a tear slipping down his cheek.

“Hey, stop—breathe,” Joshua said, firm but gentle. “You did the right thing—you protected her. That creep’s the problem, not you.”

“Yeah, Cheol,” Jeonghan added, softer. “You think Y/N blames you? She doesn’t—she’s scared, but she knows you saved her. Don’t beat yourself up—you’re her rock, man. You did what any of us would’ve.”

“I could’ve lost her,” Seungcheol choked out, rubbing his eyes. “She was crying my name, and I wasn’t there fast enough…”

“But you were there,” Joshua countered. “You got her out. She’s safe because of you. Rest, okay? We’ll come tomorrow—Hannie and I will be at your parents’ first thing.”

“Yeah, we’ll handle it together,” Jeonghan said. “You’re not alone in this—go sleep, Coups. Y/N needs you strong tomorrow.”

Seungcheol nodded, though they couldn’t see, and whispered, “Thanks, guys.” He hung up, staring at the ceiling, their words a faint balm against the guilt eating him alive. He’d held it together for her, but now, alone, the fear crashed in—she’d been so small, so broken, and he’d almost failed her. He buried his face in his hands, letting the quiet tears fall, vowing to never let her out of his sight again.

[archivegyu]

between you, me, and this notebook

She swung her legs back and forth under the cafeteria table, her feet not quite reaching the floor. All around her, the other first graders were chattering about their weekend plans and trading snacks. At their table sat all her friends, thirteen boys who had adopted her into their group on the first day of school when they found her drawing stars on the playground by herself.

But her attention was fixed on the worn blue notebook sitting open between her lunch box and Mingyu's dinosaur-shaped nuggets. The Notebook of Dreams, he called it.

It had started three months ago, when Mrs. Park had asked them to draw what they wanted to be when they grew up. While the other kids had worked alone, she and her friends had huddled together, sharing ideas and colored pencils. That afternoon during recess, Mingyu had pulled out his mom's old notebook with stars on the cover.

"Let's write all our dreams in here" he'd suggested, "Then we can remember them forever and ever."

And so The Notebook of Dreams was born. They took turns taking it home, adding new wishes and dreams whenever they had them. Sometimes they were big dreams. Seungcheol wanted to be a famous singer, Jun wanted to be in movies, and Jihoon wanted to write songs that everyone in the world would sing. Sometimes they were smaller, Jeonghan dreamed of being blonde, and Hansol wanted to learn to skateboard without falling.

She flipped through the pages covered in wobbly handwriting and colorful drawings. There was her own entry from last week: "I want to be an astronaut and discover a new planet." Next to it, she'd drawn herself in a space suit with stars all around.

But today, she was staring at Mingyu's newest entry. In his messy handwriting, decorated with stickers, he had written: "I want to marry my best friend."

"Are you going to finish your apple slices?" Mingyu asked, plopping down beside her. His hair was sticking up on one side where he'd been napping during quiet time.

She pushed her apple slices toward him, her mind racing. Best friend? Who did he mean? Was it her? Or was it Wonwoo, who shared his love for building block towers? Or Seungkwan, who always made him laugh so hard milk came out his nose?

"Thanks!" Mingyu beamed, "Wanna play superheroes at recess?"

She nodded, but her thoughts stayed on the notebook entry. Throughout math lessons and story time (where Seokmin got the giggles so bad Mrs. Park had to pause the story), she kept wondering.

When the recess bell finally rang, all thirteen boys rushed for the door. She followed more slowly, watching as they spilled onto the playground. Mingyu immediately claimed the jungle gym as their superhero headquarters, with Chan, the youngest, appointed as lookout.

"You're being weird today," Mingyu said when she climbed up beside him. "Are you sick? My mom says there's a stomach bug going around."

"I'm not sick," she said, gathering her courage. "I just saw what you wrote in the notebook."

"Which part?" he asked, distracted by Seungkwan and Hansol who were pretending to be caught in an invisible force field below.

"The part about marrying your best friend."

Mingyu's cheeks turned pink, almost matching his superhero cape (really a red towel his mom had sewn clips onto). "Oh. That part."

"Who's your best friend?" she asked, heart thumping hard against her ribs.

Before Mingyu could answer, Joshua called up to them. "Hey! Aren't superheroes supposed to save people? We're being attacked by alien monsters!" He pointed to where Soonyoung and Jun were making scary faces and creeping toward the slide.

"Coming!" Mingyu shouted back. He turned to her with a serious expression. "We have to save them first. Best friends always help each other, right?"

For the rest of recess, they were too busy saving the playground from imaginary aliens to talk more about the notebook. But as they lined up to go back inside, Mingyu slipped his hand into hers.

"You're my best friend," he whispered. "Don't tell Wonwoo. He'll be sad."

Her heart felt like it might burst with happiness. "You're my best friend too" she whispered back.

"So we'll get married when we're grown-ups?" Mingyu asked, his expression completely serious despite the chocolate milk mustache on his upper lip.

"Only if I can still be an astronaut," she replied.

He nodded solemnly. "I'll be a chef and make you space food. And we can have a dog and thirteen cats, one named after each of us."

"That's a lot of cats."

"We need a big team. For adventures," he explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

That afternoon, when Mrs. Park wasn't looking, she added a new entry to the notebook: "I want to marry my best friend too." Next to it, she drew two stick figures holding hands, one tall with spiky hair, and one with a space helmet.

On the bus ride home, all thirteen boys crowded into the back seats, making the bus driver sigh loudly. Mingyu saved her a spot next to the window, their favorite place to sit.

"I saw what you wrote," he whispered, while the others were busy with a heated debate about which superhero power was the best.

"You did?"

He nodded, that toothed smile making her feel warm inside. "Now it's a double dream. Those always come true."

"Says who?" she asked, nudging his shoulder with hers.

"Says everyone," he replied with the absolute certainty only a seven-year-old could muster. "And I wrote it down too, so it's super official. Like a pinky promise but better."

From across the aisle, Jeonghan spotted the notebook poking out of Mingyu's backpack. "Are you two writing secret messages again?"

"No!" they said in unison, which immediately made the other boys crowd around them.

"Let us see!" Seungkwan demanded, trying to grab the notebook.

Mingyu held it high above his head. "It's private!"

"There are no secrets in the friendship squad," Seungcheol declared, using his "leader voice" that made him sound like he was trying to be a grown-up.

After much squabbling, with the bus driver threatening to make them all sit in separate seats, Mingyu finally opened the notebook to a blank page.

"See? Nothing," he said, carefully hiding their marriage dreams with his hand.

Later, when the bus dropped them off at their stop and the group began to fragment as they headed to different houses, Mingyu and she lingered behind.

"Our dream is still a secret, right?" she asked.

"The best kind of secret," he agreed. "A someday secret."

As they reached the corner where they had to go separate ways, Mingyu surprised her by giving her a quick hug.

"See you tomorrow, best friend," he said, before running off toward his house, his backpack bouncing against his back.

She watched him go, feeling like she was filled with stars and moonbeams. In The Notebook of Dreams, they had written down a future together, and even though they were only seven, somehow that made it feel real.

That night, when her mom asked about her day at school, she simply smiled and said, "It was good. I'm going to marry Mingyu when we grow up."

Her mom laughed softly. "Is that so?"

"Yes," she replied confidently. "We wrote it in The Notebook of Dreams, so it has to come true."

The next morning, she found Mingyu waiting at their bus stop, The Notebook of Dreams clutched to his chest.

"I added something last night," he said excitedly, flipping to their marriage entries.

Underneath, in his best handwriting (which was still pretty messy), he'd written: "And we'll all stay friends forever and ever, even when we're a hundred years old." Around the words, he'd drawn all thirteen boys and her, holding hands in a circle with stars above them.

"It's perfect," she said, pulling a sparkly sticker from her pocket to place next to his drawing.

As the bus rumbled toward them and their friends began to gather at the stop, Mingyu carefully tucked the notebook away. But before joining the others, he leaned close and whispered, "Best friends now, best friends forever. It's the biggest dream of all."

And she knew, with the absolute certainty that came from having it written in The Notebook of Dreams, that it was a dream that would come true.

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ THEY DON’T KNOW ABOUT US

❛ 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 '𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 '𝘦𝘮, 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪-𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦-𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘣𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘱-𝘢𝘭𝘭-𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺— 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘴. ❜

timeline: 2024

synopsis: When their five-year secret relationship is exposed, Luna and Jeonghan navigate the chaos of public scrutiny, media frenzy, and agency interference— only to prove that no one really knows them except the people who truly matter.

warnings: angst, angst, angst, cursing, crying, anxiety, detailed description of panic attack, arguments, Dispatch’s bitchass, established relationship, hate comments, haters with no lives whatsoever, slut shaming, detailed description of hate comments, media, mentions of enlistment, Bae Jiyeon and Yoon Jeonghan are about to end lives, ends with fluff, they are so in love it hurts

bringing back the angst with a sprinkle of fluff for you, my lovelies 🤭 this will focus on JeongNa’s last date before Han’s enlistment and then being exposed + their reactions. btw, i pissed myself off writing this 😀 anyway! enjoy, my loves 💕

i have posted the articles confirming their relationship a few months ago, so go check them out if you haven’t already— 240924: AllKpop Article & 240925: Soompi Article + fan reaction tweets— AllKpop & Soompi Article Reaction + Luna’s ig post response— 240925: Blue

also, this— “what if I roll the stone away? they're gonna crucify me anyway. what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? if long suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly. i choose you and me… religiously.” (try to find the reference in the story 🤭)

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

They don’t know about us.

That’s what Luna and Jeonghan thought when they first started their relationship.

It was long overdue— the tension, the lingering glances that lasted a beat too long, the unspoken words hanging in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. The drama of it all, the drunken confessions, the rejection, the stolen moments that meant more than they let on— it had been building for so long that when it finally happened, it felt inevitable.

Natural.

Like breathing.

So, when they finally crossed that line, when Jeonghan kissed her for the first time and Luna didn’t pull away, when their hands found each other’s in the dark and refused to let go— it was everything they had imagined and more.

And naturally, they fell into the honeymoon phase.

A world of their own, untouched by anyone else.

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust their members or their families— it was just that, for once, they wanted something that was only theirs.

Something that didn’t have to be shared, explained, or justified.

It was thrilling, this secret, knowing that when the cameras turned off and the doors closed, they were no longer just Jeonghan and Luna, best friends, members of the same team— they were them.

Something more, something sacred.

For months, they relished in the privacy of their love. Whispered conversations at odd hours, secret smiles across crowded rooms, hands brushing under tables where no one could see.

And they were so careful.

At least, until their parents found out.

It had only been a few months, but it turned out keeping a secret from their parents was a whole different game. Their families had always been close— closer than the other members’ families— and as it turned out, parents knew their children.

Maybe it was the way Jeonghan’s mother caught him checking his phone with a smile too soft to be casual, or how Luna’s father noticed her humming love songs under her breath, looking far too dreamy. Maybe it was the way they unconsciously gravitated toward each other during family gatherings, how they were never too far apart, how their conversations had an ease that went beyond simple friendship.

They didn’t say anything outright at first. But the knowing looks, the teasing comments, the gentle nudges— it was all calculated.

Until one day, both Jeonghan and Luna were cornered separately and gently interrogated.

They could have lied.

They could have denied it.

But parents knew.

So with a sigh, they admitted it.

And with that, their secret was no longer theirs alone.

That’s how their parents found out about their relationship.

They don’t know about us.

That’s what Jeonghan and Luna thought as they sat back, watching their members, keeping their secret from them for just a little while longer.

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust them. It wasn’t that they were afraid of what they would think.

It was just that they weren’t ready.

The longer they kept it to themselves, the longer they could preserve the magic of it being just theirs.

One whole year.

That was how long they managed to keep it hidden from their members.

An entire year of stolen moments and careful maneuvering, of sneaking off after practice and pretending they were just best friends in front of the others.

An entire year of their own little world, untouched.

And it worked.

Until it didn’t.

They were so careful.

But one night, they got too comfortable.

It was late, they were alone— at least, that’s what they thought. The practice room was empty, the lights dimmed, and they were tired, bodies pressed close, lips moving together like they had all the time in the world.

And then the door opened.

And twelve pairs of eyes stared.

And that was that.

That’s how the rest of the members found out about their relationship.

They don’t know about us.

That’s what Luna and Jeonghan thought as they continued their relationship for five more years, keeping it a secret from everyone else— everyone except their families and their members.

Calculated. Careful. Strategic.

They made sure of it.

But secrecy didn’t mean distance.

They never shied away from expressing their feelings in public or on camera.

The glances, the praises, the little touches that meant everything— they were obvious.

Too obvious.

But that was the trick, wasn’t it? To make it so obvious that no one actually believed it.

Best friends.

Soulmates.

That’s what the fans and the public called them.

Because it was unrealistic, right? That they would actually be together?

And that was the goal.

Until one night, both Jeonghan and Luna let their guard down too early.

And suddenly, they weren’t just best friends anymore.

They were a headline.

It started two days ago.

Two days.

That was all the time they had left before Jeonghan was set to enlist.

Luna and Jeonghan had always known this moment was inevitable. The topic of his enlistment had lingered between them for years, a shadow they had learned to live with, a reality they had come to accept. It wasn’t something they could ignore, not when time kept moving forward, not when Jeonghan’s departure was written in stone long before they had even fallen in love.

They had talked about it thoroughly, the weight of it heavy but never unbearable. There had been tears— mostly on Luna’s part, silent and bittersweet— but in the end, they made peace with it.

Jeonghan wasn’t leaving forever.

He wasn’t even leaving for long.

Because of his previous elbow and ankle injuries, he wasn’t serving in active duty. Instead, he would be doing alternative military service, social work that allowed him to return home every night.

The only time he would truly be away from her was during his initial two weeks of basic training.

And then, he’d be back.

Back to her, back to them, back to everything they had built together.

To them, that was more than enough.

But even with that knowledge, even with the comfort of knowing he would come home to her every night, time felt more precious than ever.

In the months leading up to his enlistment, Jeonghan and Luna had become inseparable— even more so than usual, and that was saying something.

The members noticed it immediately, but none of them said anything. They let them be, let them cling to each other as if time would slow down if they just held on tight enough.

And after Berlin— after the night he slipped a ring onto her finger, after she whispered yes into his kiss— Jeonghan’s attachment to Luna only intensified.

They had always been touchy, always drawn to each other like gravity itself pulled them together.

But after getting engaged, it was different.

Jeonghan barely let her out of his sight. If he wasn’t holding her hand, he had an arm around her waist. If she wasn’t sitting beside him, he’d pull her onto his lap. If they weren’t in the same room, he’d be texting or calling her, asking when she’d be back.

And Luna was no better.

She soaked up every second with him like she was trying to memorize the way he fit into her life, the way he felt pressed against her side, the way he murmured her name like it was the only word that mattered.

Whenever they could, they went on dates— lazy mornings spent wrapped up in each other, quiet evenings cooking together, late-night drives through the city, shopping trips where Jeonghan insisted on buying her everything she even glanced at.

Every moment mattered.

Which was how they found themselves here— two days before Jeonghan was set to enlist— wandering through a quiet park hand in hand, long past midnight, with only the streetlights and the faint rustling of leaves as their company.

The closer the day got, the more desperate they became.

For more time. For more memories. For each other.

So when Jeonghan had asked her, “Wanna go for a walk with me?” there had been no hesitation. No questions.

She had just nodded, slipping her hand into his.

And their desperation for more time made them reckless.

They hadn’t bothered with hats or face masks, hadn’t hidden behind sunglasses or scarves. There was no disguise, no attempt to shield themselves from the world.

They walked through the park as they were— hand in hand, smiles soft, laughter echoing in the quiet night.

Their fans had seen them like this before, after all.

“Friendly dates,” the internet called them.

Best friends, soulmates, nothing more, nothing less.

Holding hands, hugging, clinging to each other like their lives depended on it— none of it was new.

This wouldn’t be any different from the rest.

Right?

Wrong.

They very were wrong.

They had thought this night would be like all the others. Another quiet moment stolen from the rest of the world, tucked away in the familiarity of each other. Another walk under the moonlight, just the two of them, wrapped up in the comfort of knowing that no matter what happened, no matter where life took them, they would always find their way back to each other.

But they were wrong.

The park was empty, the air crisp with the lingering chill of fall. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the distant hum of the city beyond the trees, and the soft rhythm of their footsteps against the pavement.

Luna and Jeonghan walked hand in hand, their fingers intertwined, swaying their arms gently up and down like children playing as they strolled without a destination.

It was peaceful. It was quiet. It was them.

“Remember the first time we did this?” Luna mused, her voice just above a whisper, as if she was afraid speaking too loudly would break the moment.

Jeonghan hummed, tilting his head slightly in thought. “Which one? We do this a lot.”

Luna rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. “The very first time. Back when we weren’t even dating yet.”

A lazy grin tugged at his lips as the memory resurfaced. “Ah… that one. You mean the time we got caught in the rain, and you whined about your shoes getting soaked the whole way back?”

“I was wearing suede boots, Han,” she huffed, but there was no real annoyance behind her words.

He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. And I was the one who gave you my hoodie so you wouldn’t complain the whole night.”

“You offered it to me,” she corrected.

“Because you wouldn’t stop pouting.”

She let out a small scoff but didn’t argue further, instead squeezing his hand in silent amusement.

They walked in silence for a while, the rhythm of their footsteps in sync, their hands warm against the night air. It was moments like these— simple, unhurried, effortless— that made it hard to believe time was slipping through their fingers.

Luna exhaled softly, glancing up at the sky. “It’s funny,” she murmured.

Jeonghan glanced at her. “What is?”

“How… nothing really changes, but at the same time, everything does.”

He hummed again, as if considering her words. “That’s life, isn’t it?”

She nodded slowly. “It just… doesn’t feel real sometimes. That we’ve been together this long. That we’ve managed to keep it ours for this long.”

Jeonghan smiled, bringing their joined hands up to press a lingering kiss to the back of hers. “It’s real.”

Luna turned to him, her gaze soft, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face. “I know,” she whispered.

There was another stretch of silence, comfortable and full, before Jeonghan sighed, nudging her toward a bench nestled under the soft glow of a streetlamp. “Come here,” he murmured, tugging her down beside him.

Luna went willingly, shifting so she could wrap her arms around his torso, pressing herself against his side. Jeonghan draped his arm over her shoulders with practiced ease, his fingers slipping into her hair as he gently guided her head onto his shoulder.

She let out a quiet sigh as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

For a while, they just sat there, wrapped up in each other, listening to the distant sounds of the city beyond their little world.

“I’m gonna miss this,” Luna admitted after a moment.

Jeonghan’s hold on her tightened slightly. “I’ll still be here, my moon.”

She closed her eyes. “I know. But it’ll be different.”

“It won’t be forever.”

Luna let out a breath of laughter. “I hate that you’re always right.”

Jeonghan chuckled, pressing another kiss into her hair. “You love that I’m always right.”

She tilted her head up to glance at him, lips curling in a small smirk. “Debatable.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he rested his chin atop her head, his fingers lazily playing with the ends of her hair.

After a beat, he spoke again, voice softer this time. “I’m gonna miss this, too.”

Luna swallowed. “Yeah?”

He hummed. “You. Us. Coming home and seeing you there. Falling asleep next to you.” He paused. “Waking up next to you.”

Luna bit her lip, tightening her hold on him.

Jeonghan sighed. “I don’t want you to feel sad while I’m gone.”

“I won’t.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Promise me?”

She turned her head just enough to press a small kiss against his collarbone. “I promise.”

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, his grip on her never loosening, as if he was afraid that if he did, she would slip away.

Luna closed her eyes, willing the sting behind her eyelids to fade before the tears could fall.

She promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She promised him she wouldn’t be sad. She didn’t want Jeonghan to see her cry, not when he had enough on his plate already, not when this was inevitable— something they both knew was coming for years now.

It’s only two weeks.

It’s only two weeks.

It’s only two weeks.

She repeated it in her head like a mantra, as if saying it enough times would make it feel true, would make the ache in her chest subside.

Two weeks of basic training, then he would be back, working an office job, coming home to her every night. It was nothing compared to what others had to endure, nothing compared to what it could have been.

And yet…

Two weeks.

They had never been apart for that long.

Not once.

Not ever.

Since the moment they met as teenagers, since the day Jeonghan waltzed into her life with that lazy smile and sharp wit, since the first time she rolled her eyes at him only for him to make her laugh a second later, they had never spent more than a few days apart.

Even when schedules were hectic, even when they were on different sides of the world, they always found a way back to each other— calls, texts, midnight flights, anything to close the distance.

But this time, there was no way around it.

This time, it was real.

Jeonghan, ever attuned to her, read her silence as easily as he read his own thoughts. Without a word, he lifted their joined hands, brushing his lips against the back of hers, pressing a lingering kiss there before turning his attention to her fingers, kissing each one, soft and slow, as if he was trying to soothe away the thoughts swirling in her head.

Luna sniffled, blinking up at him, and Jeonghan smiled, his usual playful lilt slipping back into his voice as he spoke.

“You know,” he mused, pressing one last kiss to her knuckle, “this is starting to feel like one of those tragic romance dramas you love watching.”

Luna scoffed, but the sound was weak, breathless. “Oh, shut up.”

“I’m serious.” He grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “You, the heartbroken heroine, left behind as her lover bravely marches off to his destiny.” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning sorrow. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you, my baby?”

She rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly. “You’re so dramatic.”

Jeonghan gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “Me? Dramatic?”

“Yes, you.”

“Jiyeonie, sweetheart, my moon, my pretty angel, my baby,” he drawled, shaking his head. “I wish I could say I’m offended, but honestly, I’m just proud of you for finally learning how to lie.”

She let out a small, breathy laugh, the tightness in her chest easing just a little.

Jeonghan beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “There it is. That’s the smile I love.”

Luna exhaled, shaking her head as she leaned into him, her voice softer this time. “You really can’t let me have my moment for a second, can you?”

“Nope.” Jeonghan tilted his head, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “Not when I know you’ll overthink yourself into a spiral the second I let you.”

Luna pursed her lips, knowing he was right but refusing to admit it. “I just…” She sighed, her fingers curling slightly against his chest. “I don’t want to miss you.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened. “I know, baby.”

“It’s stupid,” she muttered. “Two weeks isn’t even that long.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said gently. “You’re allowed to miss me.”

She huffed. “You want me to miss you.”

Jeonghan smirked. “Well, yeah. A little ego boost never hurt anyone.”

Luna rolled her eyes again, but this time, she smiled. “Unbelievable.”

He squeezed her waist, bringing her closer. “Come on, it’s not that bad. Think about it this way: two weeks without me means two weeks of extra sleep. No one to steal the blankets, no one to wake you up in the middle of the night just because I’m bored—”

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” she interrupted.

Jeonghan grinned, his thumb tracing slow circles against her hip. “Admit it. You love when I wake you up.”

Luna scoffed. “I love my sleep more.”

He gasped, placing a hand over his chest again. “Wow. So heartless.”

She bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile. “I’m just being honest.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes playfully. “Fine. Then I take back all those times I made you breakfast in bed.”

Luna arched a brow. “Breakfast? You mean the half-burnt toast and instant coffee?”

“Handcrafted with love, love of my life,” he corrected.

She laughed, shaking her head. “If that’s what you call ‘handcrafted,’ I think I’ll survive two weeks without it.”

Jeonghan let out an exaggerated sigh. “My own fiancée… betraying me like this.”

Luna grinned, shifting so she could press a soft kiss against his jaw. “You’ll live.”

He hummed, his hold on her tightening ever so slightly. “Yeah, but I’d rather live with you.”

Luna’s breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her fingers brushing against his cheek.

“Then come home soon,” she whispered.

Jeonghan smiled, leaning in to kiss her— soft, slow, lingering. “I will, for you.”

Luna lifted her head, her gaze locking onto Jeonghan’s as the corners of her lips twitched in amusement.

“Yeah?” she murmured, her voice teasing yet quiet, barely more than a breath between them.

Jeonghan’s lips curled into a smirk, his own voice dropping into a whisper. “Yeah.”

Her eyes flickered between his, studying the depth of his stare, the way he was looking at her— like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Really?” she teased, her nose barely brushing against his as she tilted her head slightly.

“Really,” Jeonghan confirmed, his smirk widening as he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, the gentle eskimo kiss making Luna giggle softly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment at the affection.

Jeonghan stilled, watching her— memorizing her.

The way her nose scrunched just slightly as she giggled, the way her lips curved, the way her laughter melted into a small, content sigh.

He wanted to keep this moment, trap it in time so he could play it back again and again.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he leaned in.

The first kiss was barely a brush of lips, a fleeting peck— a soft introduction, like the whisper of a promise.

Then another.

And another.

Each peck slow and deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world.

But they didn’t.

That realization hit Jeonghan all at once, settling deep in his chest like a weight. They didn’t have all the time in the world. They barely had two days.

And just like that, his patience slipped away.

Jeonghan deepened the kiss, his lips pressing more firmly against hers, his hand coming up to cup her jaw, thumb stroking against her cheek as he tilted her head back slightly. Luna let him, exhaling softly through her nose as she melted against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

The movement of their lips was slow but intentional, like they were savoring the feeling— like they were trying to etch the sensation into memory.

Jeonghan took his time, kissing her deeply, his lips warm and soft against hers, a quiet hum vibrating in his throat as he felt Luna respond, matching his movements with ease, with familiarity, with the same silent understanding that had always existed between them.

And then, like a dam breaking, the kiss shifted.

Luna felt the moment Jeonghan’s restraint wavered, felt the way his fingers gripped her just a bit tighter, the way his lips moved with more urgency, the way his breath hitched between kisses. The change was subtle at first, a slow descent into something deeper, something desperate— until suddenly, there was no space between them, no hesitation.

His other hand found her waist, pulling her closer, and Luna let out a quiet, breathy sound as she tilted her head further, allowing him to take full control. Jeonghan took advantage of it immediately, his lips parting against hers as his fingers traced down the side of her neck, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

She tasted like peppermint and something unmistakably sweet— something unmistakably Luna, a taste he could never quite describe but knew he would never forget. He sighed into her mouth, taking his time to memorize it, to let it brand itself into his senses.

Luna kissed him back just as fervently, her hands slipping up to tangle in his hair, nails grazing against his scalp as she pulled him impossibly closer. The sensation sent a shiver down Jeonghan’s spine, his fingers twitching against her waist before gripping just a little tighter.

Time didn’t exist.

Nothing else existed.

It was just them.

Kissing like the world was going to take it all away.

And maybe, in a way, it was.

The desperation grew, their lips moving in perfect sync, breath mingling between soft sighs and quiet hums, until suddenly—

Jeonghan pulled away.

Luna barely processed it before she was chasing after him, lips parting as she tried to close the distance again, refusing to let the moment slip away so soon.

A deep chuckle rumbled in Jeonghan’s throat, the sound low and knowing as he indulged her immediately, meeting her halfway as he captured her lips again, softer this time— less desperate, more lingering.

A few more kisses followed, slow and sweet, until finally, they both pulled away for real, their foreheads resting together as their breaths intermingled.

Neither spoke for a moment, simply basking in the warmth of each other, the quiet hum of the night around them.

Then, finally, Jeonghan smiled, breathless and dazed.

“Damn,” he murmured, voice low and teasing, “I was going to say something, but now I’ve completely forgotten what it was.”

Luna exhaled a soft laugh, her fingers still playing with the strands of his hair as she whispered, “Was it important?”

Jeonghan hummed, pretending to think for a moment before smirking. “Not as important as this.”

Luna grinned, rolling her eyes. “Cheesy.”

“Admit it, Nana-ya,” he murmured, pressing another kiss— just a light peck this time— against her lips. “You love it.”

She sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

Jeonghan chuckled, wrapping his arms around her as he nuzzled his nose against hers once more. “Good. Because I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

Jeonghan breathed out, his gaze locked onto hers, filled with nothing but warmth and devotion. “I love you, my pretty moon,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of every moment they had shared.

Luna’s lips curled into a soft smile as she reached up to cradle his face, her thumb tracing gentle circles against his skin. “I love you too,” she whispered back, her words laced with the same tenderness that had always existed between them.

The night stretched on, the moon casting a soft, silver glow over the park, illuminating the quiet sanctuary where Jeonghan and Luna sat curled up together on the weathered wooden bench.

The world around them had long faded into the background, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble, a space where time seemed to slow and everything outside of them ceased to exist.

Jeonghan’s arms remained lazily draped around her, fingers tracing mindless patterns along her shoulder, while Luna tucked herself into his side, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a sound she knew by heart, one that had always comforted her— always reminded her that he was there.

Neither of them spoke for a while, but words weren’t necessary. They had spent years learning each other’s silences, understanding the weight of every quiet moment, every sigh, every unspoken thought. And tonight, their silence spoke volumes.

Jeonghan shifted slightly, tilting his head to press another kiss against the crown of her head before resting his chin there. His fingers slipped down to intertwine with hers again, gently squeezing as if to remind her— I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Luna squeezed back.

This moment belonged to them.

Just them.

No cameras. No flashing lights. No prying eyes. No one to tell them who they should be, how they should act, how they should dress, how they should live.

For years, they had mastered the art of existing under the radar, moving like shadows through a world that wasn’t meant to see them. They had found ways to love each other without letting the world know— soft touches hidden in plain sight, whispered words in stolen moments, glances that spoke louder than words ever could.

And tonight, in the quiet embrace of the night, under the glow of the moon and the distant hum of the city, they allowed themselves to be just Jeonghan and Luna.

No masks. No pretense. Just them.

But they had been wrong.

So wrong.

Because hidden in the shadows, from a distance neither of them had noticed, they were not alone.

A group of men— silent, calculated, and patient— had trailed after them, staying just far enough behind to remain undetected.

They had seen everything.

They had seen Jeonghan and Luna enter the park, had watched as they walked hand in hand without a second thought, without disguises, without the usual caution that kept them safe.

And then, when the two lovers had sunk into their moment of unguarded intimacy, the men had done their job.

Professional cameras, long-range lenses, and the precision of years of experience had ensured that everything— every single detail— was captured.

Every touch.

Every smile.

Every lingering gaze.

Every kiss.

Every single breath.

Every single moment that had once belonged to Jeonghan and Luna alone— stolen.

Framed within lenses meant for the world to see.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The shutters had been relentless, capturing their love in high definition, freezing each second of their private moment into something that would soon be dissected, analyzed, and spread across every screen, every headline, every social media feed.

And just like that…

Their little bubble— the one that had protected them for five long years— popped.

The world would come flooding in.

And it did… they came flooding in.

The morning light barely seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the bedroom. The world outside was already stirring, but inside, Jeonghan and Luna remained blissfully unaware, wrapped up in the warmth of each other.

Luna was curled against him, her body pressed to his side, head resting on his chest, where the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulled her deeper into sleep. Jeonghan had one arm around her, his fingers absentmindedly splayed across her back, while the other rested atop the blanket that loosely covered them.

Everything was still.

Everything was quiet.

Until it wasn’t.

The noise started subtly— just a single vibration at first.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

Until it became a relentless series of buzzes, chimes, and notification dings that broke the peaceful silence.

Jeonghan stirred, his brows furrowing in annoyance, but Luna, the heavy sleeper that she was, barely moved.

Then came the ringing.

One call after another, overlapping, insistent— unrelenting.

Jeonghan was a light sleeper, and there was no way he could ignore it. His lashes fluttered, and with a groggy sigh, he opened his eyes, blinking against the dim light as his mind tried to catch up with reality.

His body reacted before his mind did. One hand instinctively lifted, covering Luna’s ear to shield her from the noise, while the other moved to gently press her closer, ensuring she stayed undisturbed. She shifted slightly, her fingers curling against his chest, but she remained fast asleep, completely oblivious to the chaos happening just beyond their broken little bubble.

Jeonghan exhaled through his nose, his annoyance growing as the buzzing persisted.

It was incessant.

His phone.

Luna’s phone.

Neither had stopped since he woke up.

That alone was enough to make his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

And whatever it was— it involved them.

His gaze flickered to the bedside table, where both of their phones vibrated aggressively against the wood, lighting up with call after call, message after message. He could see the names flashing across the screen— the members, their managers, their parents. Even social media notifications were piling up at an alarming rate.

The air in the room suddenly felt heavier.

Jeonghan’s fingers clenched around the sheets for a moment before he carefully untangled himself from Luna. She barely stirred, only making a small noise of protest before settling back into sleep.

His gut told him he wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to find out.

Reaching for his phone, he barely had time to register the dozens of texts and missed calls before another one came through.

His manager.

With a steadying breath, he accepted the call.

“Hyung.”

A sharp breath of relief was heard on the other end. “Jeonghan— finally.” His manager’s voice sounded tense, urgent. “I’ve been trying to reach you both for the past hour. We’re still trying to get ahold of Jiyeon.”

Jeonghan’s gaze flickered down to the woman sleeping peacefully beside him. His chest tightened. “She’s here,” he murmured, his voice quieter, more careful, as if saying it too loud would shatter the last few moments of peace they had left. His eyes traced her features— so serene, so unaware of the storm that was waiting for them outside this room.

His manager let out another breath, but the tension in his voice didn’t waver. “Good. That’s… good.”

Jeonghan frowned. “Hyung, what’s going on?”

There was a pause.

A moment too long, too hesitant.

“Jeonghan-ah,” his manager said, voice lowering as if bracing for impact. “You need to be ready for this… the two of you. It’s bad.”

Jeonghan’s patience finally snapped.

“What’s bad?” he demanded, voice sharpening as a cold unease settled in his stomach.

Another beat of silence.

Then—

“Dispatch uploaded pictures of you and Jiyeon at the park last night.”

Jeonghan stilled.

His body didn’t move, but his arms instinctively tightened around Luna, holding her just a little closer, a little more protectively.

The words rang in his ears, but his mind had already begun working, piecing things together faster than his emotions could catch up.

They had been followed.

They had been watched.

Grown men had lurked in the shadows, cameras in tow, capturing everything.

Every smile. Every touch. Every kiss.

A scalding heat simmered beneath his skin— not of panic, but of anger.

He knew this was bound to happen eventually.

They had been careful for years, but all it took was one mistake, one moment of carelessness, one night of wanting to just be them— and now their relationship was no longer their own.

For years, they had carved out a love story in the quiet, only for it to be stolen in the loudest way possible.

But more than anything, more than the invasion, more than the knowledge that the entire world was probably tearing through their privacy at this very moment—

It was Luna he cared about most.

This wasn’t just about him.

Jeonghan knows he could handle the attention. He could handle the questions, the scrutiny, the headlines. He had prepared for this moment for years.

But Luna…

She had spent five years keeping their love safe. She had built walls around it, protected it with every ounce of her being.

They weren’t hiding— they were protecting.

They had been selfish with this one thing, this one love, because it was the only thing that was truly theirs. But now, even that was gone.

And now, without warning, those walls had been torn down.

At the end of the day, the final decision wouldn’t be his to make.

It would be hers.

And whatever she chose— however she wanted to handle this— Jeonghan would stand beside her, just like he always had.

Jeonghan barely heard a word his manager was saying. His phone was pressed to his ear, but his attention was elsewhere— fixed on the woman sleeping beside him, the only thing in this moment that mattered.

“Jeonghan-ah, are you listening?” His manager’s voice was tense, barely masking the urgency underneath. “The higher-ups need to talk to the both of you. We’re setting up a meeting as soon as possible. They’re already drafting statements, they’re asking for a confirmation— but they won’t release anything until they speak with you and Jiyeon first.”

Jeonghan swallowed, his jaw tensing.

Statements.

Confirmations.

Damage control.

It was always about control with them.

But right now, all he cared about was her.

His fingers brushed lightly over Luna’s shoulder as she slept, his touch featherlight, as if he could somehow keep her safe in this moment— keep her in the warmth of sleep where reality couldn’t reach her yet.

Stay asleep just a little longer, please.

Jeonghan hoped she was dreaming of something beautiful, something so breathtaking that reality would pale in comparison. Maybe she was dreaming of the ocean, the soft lull of waves against the shore. Maybe she was dreaming of the stars, endless and vast, untouched by the world below.

Because when she woke up, that dream would be gone.

Jeonghan exhaled shakily. He knew how much this would hurt her. He knew how hard she had worked to build her walls— to make herself untouchable, unshaken. It had taken years for her to perfect that mask, to craft a shield strong enough to survive in this industry.

And now, just like that, those walls were about to crumble.

He shifted slightly, lowering his head to press a kiss against her forehead.

I don’t want you to hurt.

His arms tightened around her just a fraction, his heart aching at the thought of what she was about to wake up to.

For the first time in a long time, Jeonghan almost started praying.

Then Luna stirred.

It started small— just a soft sigh, her body shifting slightly against his. But then her brows knitted together, her fingers twitching against his chest as the incessant buzzing and chiming of her own phone finally started to break through her sleep.

She rubbed her eyes sluggishly, grogginess still thick in her voice.

“What?”

Jeonghan barely had time to compose himself before she blinked up at him, confusion evident in her tired gaze.

She could hear it now.

The constant ringing, the dings, the vibrations.

Her brows furrowed deeper as she slowly turned toward her phone. Jeonghan knew the moment she became fully awake— her gaze sharpening just slightly as she reached out, fingers brushing against her phone’s screen.

“What’s happening?” she murmured, blinking away the last remnants of sleep.

Jeonghan said nothing. He simply watched her, his face carefully neutral, but there was something unreadable in his expression.

Luna frowned, her fingers curling around her phone. “What is—”

She didn’t get to finish.

Before she could unlock the screen, Jeonghan moved.

Faster than he even realized, his hand shot out, gently but firmly stopping her from opening it.

Luna froze, staring at him in shock.

The only sound between them now was the relentless dinging of notifications.

Her heart stuttered.

Something was wrong.

Dread curled inside her chest like a slow-burning poison.

Her grip on her phone tightened as her breathing grew shallower. She could see it in Jeonghan’s eyes now— that quiet grief, that heavy sadness, the way he wasn’t trying to stop her because he wanted to hide something from her, but because he wanted to protect her.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

“No.” Luna shook her head, shoving down the sickening fear clawing up her throat.

With trembling fingers, she unlocked her phone.

“No. No. No.”

She scrolled through the messages— dozens of them. Her parents. Her members. Even some industry friends. Their messages all carried the same weight of concern, asking if she was okay, asking if she had seen it yet.

That was the easy part.

What came next made her stomach turn.

Her manager’s worried text was at the top of her notifications, followed by a single link.

Luna hesitated, her breath catching in her throat.

She clicked it.

Jeonghan could only watch her, his chest tight, his fingers clenching into the sheets. He had already seen it. He had already felt the weight of it. But Luna…

Luna was seeing it for the first time.

Her eyes widened as she took in the headlines.

BREAKING: SEVENTEEN's Luna and Jeonghan reportedly spotted on a not-so-friendly date

EXCLUSIVE: SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and Luna spotted on a late-night date— Secret Relationship EXPOSED!

Caught red-handed: SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and Luna’s romantic rendezvous under the moonlight!

Dispatch’s new couple revealed— SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and Luna caught on camera!

Then the pictures.

From the moment Jeonghan’s car pulled into the park.

To the way he had reached for her hand.

To the way he had kissed her temple under the streetlights.

To the way they sat together, lost in their own little world.

To the way they shared a passionate kiss, wrapped in each others’ arms.

Frame after frame.

Everything was there.

Luna felt like she was going to be sick.

Luna remembers how there was a time when she had wanted the whole world to know.

When she was younger, when their love was still something new and untouched, she had dreamed of showing Jeonghan off— of holding his hand in public without fear, of gushing about him openly.

But reality had hit them fast.

She had watched idols get scrutinized, torn apart for daring to love. She had seen careers ruined, reputations destroyed, relationships ended, and lives violated.

She had learned quickly that the only way to protect what they had— was to keep it a secret.

Her vision blurred.

Her hands started to shake, her fingers clammy as they gripped her phone too tightly. Her chin wobbled, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

Her heart pounded erratically in her chest, constricting, tightening—

She was dizzy.

Nauseous.

Her fingers scrolled too fast, eyes scanning the comments that were already piling up.

> She’s so selfish. She ruined Jeonghan’s image.

> She doesn’t deserve him.

> Typical. The only girl in SEVENTEEN and she’s screwing a member.

> PR stunt.

> Didn’t we predict this almost ten years ago? She’s fucking a member. Maybe even more of them tbh.

> Jeonghan could do so much better.

> Well, what’s new? She’s a slut, we’ve established that.

> They should kick her out of the group.

> That’s all she’s good for anyway, a PR stunt.

She barely even registered the words.

She had stopped caring about hate years ago.

She had built up a thick skin, had learned to survive in an industry that never wanted her in the first place.

But this—

People picking apart their love, something she had spent years protecting—

This brought her back to when she was seventeen, sobbing into her pillow over the first wave of hate she had ever received.

Her lungs burned.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her phone slipped from her hands, falling onto the bed.

As if the universe was playing a sick joke on her, the video autoplayed.

“We’ve caught them.”

A man’s voice, snickering behind the camera.

Luna whimpered.

Her hands flew to her ears, shaking violently as a sob tore from her lips.

Immediately, Jeonghan grabbed her phone, locking it, before gathering her into his arms.

“Jiyeon-ah,” he murmured, his voice low, soothing, as he rocked her gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay, baby. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

She gasped, trying to breathe, but her chest was too tight, her panic spiraling too fast.

“Breathe,” Jeonghan whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Slow, deep breaths. Just follow me, okay? In—” he inhaled deeply, holding her closer, “—and out.”

She trembled violently against him, her face buried in his neck.

“Why would they do that?” she choked out, her voice small, broken.

Jeonghan closed his eyes, his heart breaking.

“I don’t know, baby,” he whispered. “I don’t know.”

But he would do anything to make it stop.

Luna’s breaths came in short, sharp gasps, her entire body trembling in Jeonghan’s arms. She clung to him, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt as if she could anchor herself to him, as if she could disappear into the warmth of his embrace and escape the reality that was crashing down around her.

“C-can’t breathe, Han.” Her voice was a broken whisper, barely pushing past her sobs. She burrowed deeper into his neck, her tears hot against his skin.

Jeonghan tightened his arms around her, his hand moving up to cradle the back of her head. “Yes, you can,” he murmured softly. “You can, Nana-ya. Just follow my breathing, okay? You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

But she was spiraling too fast, her body shaking harder against his.

“Everything’s ruined,” she choked out, gasping against his collarbone. “It’s out there. We’re out there. There’s nothing we can do—”

“Hey,” Jeonghan said firmly, yet still gentle, pulling back slightly. He cupped her face, his thumbs immediately brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Look at me, Jiyeon-ah.”

She resisted, trying to bury herself back into him, but he didn’t let her. He held her face in his hands, tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Breathe with me,” he said again, softer this time. “Slow and deep, just like this.” He exaggerated his inhale, his chest rising steadily, before exhaling slowly. “Just like that, my moon. You can do it.”

She tried. She really did. But her breaths kept hitching, her body kept trembling, and her mind wouldn’t stop racing.

“It’s us,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s so clearly us. The pictures— there’s no denying it, no pretending, no trying to spin it another way. It’s just… there.”

Jeonghan’s jaw clenched, but he kept his touch gentle, kept his voice steady. “I know.”

“And the people—” her breath shuddered, her fingers curling into his wrists as he held her face. “They’re already crucifying me, Han. It’s not even about the rumors or the speculation anymore. They know it’s real. They know we’re real. And they’re tearing me apart for it.”

A fresh sob broke through her, her hands shaking as they clutched at his wrists.

“I don’t care what they say about me,” she whispered, her voice laced with exhaustion, with anger, with hurt. “I haven’t cared in so fucking long. I learned how to ignore them. I had to. I had to. But this— this is different.”

Jeonghan brushed his thumb under her eye, wiping away a tear before it could fall. “How is it different, love?” he asked softly, his patience unwavering.

“Because they don’t know us.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “They don’t know us, but they think they do. They think they know our story, our love, our choices. They think they have the right to tear us apart when they don’t even understand who we are.”

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, his heart aching at her words. He let her spill everything, let her pour out all her frustrations, all her pain, as he held her close.

Her sobs quieted just slightly, but her hands still trembled in his grasp. He tilted her face up again, pressing his forehead to hers.

“You’re right. They don’t know about us, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet conviction. “They think they do, but they don’t. They don’t know what we’ve been through. They don’t know the nights we spent whispering in the dark, promising each other that we would make this work no matter what. They don’t know the sacrifices we’ve made just to keep this love safe. They don’t know the way I look at you when no one’s watching. They don’t know the way you hold my hand under the table when the world feels too loud.”

Luna’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears filling her eyes.

“They don’t know us,” Jeonghan repeated, his voice steady, unwavering. “And they never will. Not in the way we do. Not in the way that matters.”

She swallowed hard, her lips quivering as he continued to wipe away her tears.

“I don’t want them to ruin this,” she admitted in a broken whisper. “I don’t want them to take this away from us.”

Jeonghan shook his head slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “They can’t. They don’t have that power. The only people who get to decide what happens to us— is us. You hear me?”

Luna’s breath shuddered, but she nodded, her fingers finally loosening their desperate grip. Jeonghan kissed her cheek, then her temple, then the tip of her nose, grounding her with every touch.

“You’re safe,” he whispered against her skin. “We’re safe.”

Luna let out a shaky breath, her hands still trembling as she gripped Jeonghan’s wrists. Her mind was spinning, overwhelmed with thoughts that she couldn’t contain. Even though her breathing had steadied slightly under Jeonghan’s soothing touch, the weight of everything was still crushing her chest.

“It’s not fair,” she whispered, voice raw from crying. “Why do we have to go through this? Why does it always have to be this way? Why can’t we just… exist without people tearing us apart? Is that too much to ask?

Jeonghan’s thumbs continued their slow, comforting strokes against her skin, his eyes never leaving hers. He didn’t rush her, didn’t tell her to stop. He let her speak, let her pour out the frustration that had been building inside her for years.

“I knew this would happen,” she admitted, voice thick with emotion. “I knew that if they ever found out, they’d twist everything, rip us apart like we’re just some story for them to consume.” She let out a bitter laugh, one that held no humor. “And the worst part? They don’t even see us as real people… we’re entertainment. We’re just characters to them— characters in a drama they get to judge, gossip about, and decide the ending for.”

Jeonghan’s grip on her tightened slightly, grounding her, reminding her that he was here, that they were real.

“They don’t know how hard we fought for this,” Luna continued, her voice rising with frustration. “They don’t know how many nights we stayed up, whispering about the future, trying to convince ourselves that love was worth the risk. They don’t know how many times we almost gave up because we were scared— because we knew the world wouldn’t be kind to us if they ever found out.”

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his chest aching at the pain in her words.

“They don’t know about the nights I cried because I hated hiding,” Luna whispered, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “How I wanted to tell the world, to scream it from the rooftops that I love you. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I knew what would happen. And now that it’s happening, it’s so much worse than I imagined.”

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know,” he murmured, his voice filled with understanding. “I know, baby.”

Luna shook her head, her chest rising and falling unevenly. “And the comments— God, the comments.” Her fingers clenched into fists against his chest. “They think they know us. They think they have the right to judge us. To call me names, to call you names, to pick apart every little detail about us as if we owe them an explanation. As if our love is something they get to approve of.”

Jeonghan’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly masked it, choosing to focus on her instead. He gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “They don’t matter, Nana-ya.”

She let out a broken laugh, shaking her head. “That’s easy to say when you’re not the one being called a fucking slu—”

“They. Don’t. Matter.” Jeonghan repeated, firmer this time. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was resolute, unshakable. He held her gaze, his thumbs brushing away the tears staining her cheeks. “Not the strangers. Not the trolls. Not the ones who think they know us just because they see a few pictures online. They don’t know anything, Jiyeon. And they never will.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her lips parting slightly.

Jeonghan’s expression softened, his fingers caressing the curve of her jaw. “You know what does matter?” he asked quietly.

She swallowed, blinking up at him.

“You.” He leaned in, pressing the gentlest kiss to her forehead before whispering against her skin. “Me. Us.”

Luna’s chin wobbled as another wave of emotion hit her.

“Our members,” Jeonghan continued, his voice steady, reassuring. “Our friends. Our families. The people who have stood by us, who know us— not as idols, not as gossip, but as real people. The ones who love us and support us, no matter what.” He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze unwavering. “And our fans, Nana-ya. The ones who truly care about us, not just as performers, but as human beings. The ones who love us because we’re real, not in spite of it.”

Luna inhaled shakily, his words settling deep within her.

“At the end of the day,” Jeonghan said softly, his fingers tracing slow circles against her skin, “they are the only ones who matter. Not the ones who hide behind screens, not the ones who think they have a say in our lives. They don’t know us.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “And they never will and that’s okay because— they don’t matter.”

Luna let out a shaky breath, her fingers loosening their grip. The storm inside her was still raging, but Jeonghan’s words were like an anchor, pulling her back to solid ground.

She looked at him— really looked at him. At the warmth in his eyes, the quiet strength in his presence, the unwavering love he held for her in every touch, every word.

And suddenly, the noise of the outside world didn’t feel so loud anymore.

Luna’s breath hitched, her fingers curled weakly into Jeonghan’s hoodie as she whispered, her voice barely above the sound of their breathing, “I’m going to miss you a little more when the world is being too harsh, Jeongie.”

Her chin wobbled, a single tear slipping past her lashes, tracing a slow, sorrowful path down her cheek. The sight of it melted Jeonghan’s heart in the most painful way. He wanted to wipe away every ounce of sadness, every ounce of fear that she felt— but the reality of it all was that he couldn’t.

Because tomorrow, he had to leave.

Two weeks.

Two weeks of basic training.

Two weeks away from her.

Two weeks where she would have to deal with the aftermath of their relationship being exposed without him by her side.

The thought nearly crushed him. He didn’t want to leave her like this, not now. But he had no choice.

Jeonghan sighed, his hand moving to gently comb through her hair, pushing it away from her tear-streaked face. He gave her a small, knowing smile, trying to ease the tension in her chest, trying to ground her the way he always did.

“You know what you should do when the world is being stupid and I’m not there?” he asked, his voice laced with fondness.

Luna blinked up at him, sniffling, waiting for his answer like it was something sacred.

“You face it headfirst— like you always do,” Jeonghan said simply, his fingers threading through her hair with delicate care. “Like the time you fought off that ridiculous rumor about you paying people to be a part of the group.”

Luna let out a weak, teary scoff, but he saw the way her lips twitched slightly.

“Or the time a fan tried to convince everyone that you secretly hated Seungcheol, and you shut that down with one Weverse live where you spent the whole time telling stories about him and listing the things you love about him in the most adorably aggressive way possible.”

A small huff left her nose.

Jeonghan smirked, tilting his head. “Or how about the time a rookie idol said something shady about you in an interview, and when you an I ran into her backstage, you walked straight up to her, smiled, and said, ‘I heard you have something to say to me. Say it to my face.’”

Luna rolled her eyes at the memory, but the corner of her lips twitched ever so slightly.

Jeonghan gave her a pointed look, his fingers tracing slow, comforting circles on her back. “That’s the Bae Jiyeon I know. The one who doesn’t take shit from anyone. The one who walks into a room and owns it. The one who protects the members like they’re her own blood. The one who, despite everything, still stands tall.”

Luna swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing larger.

His expression softened. “I need you to be strong for me, baby,” he murmured, resting his forehead lightly against hers. “And that should be easy, because you’re the strongest person I know.”

Luna shut her eyes tightly as his words washed over her, but more tears escaped anyway.

“You have to be strong,” Jeonghan continued, brushing his thumb against her cheek, catching another stray tear. “Because we need to face the consequences together. No hiding. No running away.”

She exhaled shakily, nodding against him.

Jeonghan suddenly pulled back slightly, a knowing look in his eyes. “Remember when that girl confronted you at that fan sign a couple years ago? The one who actually had the nerve to say all that nonsense to your face?”

Luna blinked at him, confused for a moment before the memory came flooding back.

Jeonghan smirked. “Remember what you told her? I want you to repeat it.”

Luna stared at him, her lips parting slightly. She let out a soft, watery laugh before she whispered, her voice laced with that sharpness she always carried when she needed it:

“You don’t have to like me. I don’t wake up everyday to impress you.”

Jeonghan chuckled, warmth spreading through his chest at the familiar fire that flickered in her eyes, however faint it was in this moment. He cupped her cheek, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“There she is,” he murmured, smiling against her skin. “That’s the Luna I know. She may be a little tired right now, and that’s okay. But I know she’s in there.”

Luna’s eyes glistened even more, her lips pressing together as she swallowed thickly.

She looked at him— at the way he saw her, truly saw her, even when she felt like she was broken beyond repair.

And suddenly, all she could do was whisper, “I love you.”

She exhaled shakily, her voice so fragile yet so full of depth. “So much. It hurts.”

Luna felt everything at once— the weight of the world on her shoulders, the chaos waiting for her outside, the relentless storm she would have to fight through.

But in the middle of it all, in him, she found solace.

Jeonghan was her anchor.

Jeonghan was her safe place.

He was the only person in the world who could make her feel loved when she felt unlovable.

The only person who could make her feel beautiful when the world tried to tear her apart.

The only person who could make her feel important, confident, strong— when she felt like crumbling.

And she knew— without hesitation, without a single doubt in her heart— that if she had to choose, she would always choose him.

She would choose herself and Jeonghan religiously.

Every single time.

Jeonghan smiled, his eyes soft, his thumb grazing over her lips as if memorizing the shape of them. He let out a small chuckle before murmuring, “You really love me, huh?”

Luna let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. “So much that it hurts, Jeongie.”

Jeonghan hummed, pressing another soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. Then, with a teasing smirk, he whispered, “Well, good. Because I love you too and you’re stuck with me forever.”

The sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the stillness of the room, making both Luna and Jeonghan freeze. Their eyes met instantly, tension thick in the air. For a moment, neither of them moved, waiting, as if the sound itself would just disappear if they ignored it. But it rang again, more insistent this time.

Jeonghan exhaled, pressing a quick, reassuring kiss to Luna’s lips before slipping out of bed. “I’ll go see who it is,” he murmured before making his way to the door.

Luna remained in place, momentarily stuck in the aftermath of their conversation. Her chest still felt heavy, her mind a mess of thoughts that she didn’t have time to organize. With a slow inhale, she wiped the dried tears from her face, ran her hands through her hair a few times, and straightened her posture.

She needed to lock in. She needed to be composed.

After another breath, she got up and followed her fiancé.

She had been expecting the members. It would’ve made sense for them to barge in, bombarding her and Jeonghan with reassurances and attempts to cheer them up. But the distinct lack of chatter, of familiar voices, made it clear that wasn’t the case.

Instead, standing just inside the doorway were her manager and Jeonghan’s manager, their expressions grim.

“Jiyeonie…” Luna’s manager said as soon as she saw her, voice soft, filled with concern. Before Luna could react, the older woman moved toward her, pulling her into a warm yet heavy embrace. She rubbed Luna’s back in a way that was meant to be comforting, but all it did was confirm the severity of the situation.

Over her manager’s shoulder, Luna’s eyes immediately sought out Jeonghan’s. His lips were pressed together, gaze already on his own manager, waiting for an explanation.

“They’re here for the confirmation statement,” Jeonghan finally said, voice comforting.

Luna pulled away, her back straightening as she moved to Jeonghan’s side. He reached for her hand instinctively, fingers curling around hers as they sat down on the couch. Their managers followed suit, settling across from them.

Luna’s manager cleared her throat. “We were supposed to have this conversation at HYBE,” she began, her tone professional yet careful, as if she were treading on thin ice. “The higher-ups wanted to meet with both of you directly to discuss the… situation.”

Jeonghan’s manager nodded, picking up where she left off. “But we convinced them that we should be the ones to talk to you first. There’s a lot to consider here, and we need to discuss the best course of action for both of you— damage control, the confirmation statement, and what comes after.”

Jeonghan and Luna remained quiet, listening.

They understood how these things worked. Rumors came and went, scandals emerged and were buried. They had dealt with their fair share of baseless gossip over the years, ones they had easily denied.

But this…

There was no denying this.

The pictures were clear as day.

The damage that needed to be controlled was far greater.

Their managers continued, taking turns explaining the various approaches they could take. It was all methodical, calculated. The company’s priority was preserving their images, maintaining stability. And the best way to do that, according to them, was through a quiet confirmation— an acknowledgment of their relationship without fueling further chaos.

But then came the part that made Luna’s jaw clench.

“…After the initial confirmation, we wait a few months,” her manager explained carefully. “Then, when the time is right, we announce that you’ve decided to part ways, that you’ve chosen to remain friends instead. You’ll still be together, of course, just… privately. It’s the best way to—”

Luna’s patience snapped.

“Tell them we’re engaged.”

The bite in her tone was unmistakable, sharp and unwavering. Jeonghan smirked at the sound of it, glancing down at his feet, but he didn’t interfere. He simply let her speak, watching as she took full control of the room.

Both managers blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“What?” Jeonghan’s manager said, confusion laced in his voice.

Luna lifted her chin. “Tell them we’re engaged.”

Her manager hesitated, brows furrowing. “Jiyeon-ah, we need to minimize the—”

“Don’t make me repeat again what I just said,” Luna cut her off, voice cold, eyes sharp.

The room fell into silence.

Luna exhaled through her nose, leaning forward slightly. “You’re going to release an official statement confirming that Jeonghan and I are together. Not just dating— engaged. We’ve been in a relationship for five years. Since July of 2019. And we’ve been engaged since September 8th of this year— a few weeks ago.

Her manager opened her mouth, likely to protest, but Luna didn’t give her the chance.

“We’ve spent the last few days together as much as possible before Jeonghan enlists tomorrow, and we deserve to have that respected. I don’t care what loopholes you’re supposed to follow. I don’t care what narrative the company thinks is best. I don’t care about damage control. This is our relationship, and it is not a scandal.”

The authority in her voice made both managers shift uncomfortably, but neither of them dared to interrupt her.

Luna continued, unwavering. “You can also tell them that they should mind their own fucking business and leave us the fuck alone— but I understand that I’m not allowed to say certain things, so instead, you can add how we hope that people will respect our privacy. We hope that those who have supported us for years will continue to do so. And if they don’t?” She tilted her head slightly. “That’s their problem. Not ours.”

Her fingers tightened around Jeonghan’s.

She leaned back against the couch, her expression unreadable. “I want that official statement out as soon as possible. It’s not difficult— you’ve done this plenty of times before. It’s just a few paragraphs.”

Her eyes darkened, her tone dropping a degree colder. “If I don’t see that statement in the next five hours, I’ll post it myself.”

The silence that followed Luna’s final words was thick and suffocating. Their managers exchanged a look, hesitant, as if weighing their options, but there was no winning against Luna in this state.

Then, Jeonghan exhaled sharply, breaking the silence with a lazy smirk. He leaned back against the couch, tilting his head slightly as he regarded their managers with a look that was equal parts amused and unimpressed.

“You know,” he mused, voice slow, deliberate, “we could always just do a live broadcast instead.”

Both managers’ eyes widened in pure horror.

Jeonghan’s smirk deepened. “Go on Weverse, say a few words straight to the fans. No edits, no filtering. Just us, raw and real, telling them exactly how it is. I’m sure they’d appreciate the honesty.” He let the thought linger in the air before adding, “I mean, if that statement doesn’t come out within the next few hours, I might get bored enough to do it myself.”

The underlying threat was not lost on anyone.

Jeonghan’s manager was the first to sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he relented, voice tight. “We’ll make sure the statement is out as soon as possible.”

Luna’s manager nodded, though she still looked slightly shell-shocked. “Yes. We’ll take care of it immediately.”

With that, they stood, clearly eager to leave before Jeonghan or Luna threw any more surprises at them.

“We’ll keep you updated,” Jeonghan’s manager assured as he made his way toward the door.

Luna’s manager hesitated for a second before giving Luna one last look, softer this time. “Take care, Jiyeonie.”

Luna nodded, her expression unreadable. “You too.”

And just like that, they were gone.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Jeonghan wasted no time. He turned to Luna, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, pressing his forehead to hers. Then, with a gentle tilt of her chin, he captured her lips in a slow, deep kiss.

There was nothing rushed about it, nothing urgent. Just warmth, reassurance, and the unspoken promise that no matter what came next, they were in this together. His lips moved against hers with practiced ease, coaxing her into the moment, his hands resting firmly on her waist. Luna sighed into the kiss, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as if anchoring herself.

When they finally pulled away, Jeonghan rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs stroking slow circles against her sides.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured, voice low but filled with nothing but sincerity.

Luna’s lips curled into the softest of smiles as she looked up at him. “I’m proud of us.”

Jeonghan hummed, pressing another quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I love you, my pretty moon.”

“I love you more.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Impossible.”

For a few moments, they simply stood there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the day finally beginning to settle.

But then, as expected, Jeonghan was the first to break the moment.

With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he tilted his head, eyes glinting mischievously. “You know,” he drawled, “you were really hot earlier.”

Luna blinked at him before scoffing. “Seriously?”

He grinned. “I’m just saying, watching you shut them down like that? Very sexy. Very hot.”

Luna rolled her eyes, but the faint blush dusting her cheeks betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “And yet, you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

He gasped dramatically. “Unfortunately?”

Luna laughed, and for the first time that day, it felt light. Jeonghan’s grin widened at the sound.

“You know what would be even hotter?” he mused, tone casual but the glint in his eyes anything but.

Luna narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

Jeonghan leaned in slightly. “Those photos I took of you a couple of days ago,” he started, voice taking on that familiar teasing lilt. “The ones where you were wearing that denim outfit.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Jeonghan let out a wistful sigh, as if recalling something truly magnificent. “You just looked so good, baby. The fit, the lighting, the way the denim hugged you just right— honestly, it was art. Pure art.”

Luna giggled, shaking her head. “And what exactly is your point?”

His smirk turned downright devious. “It would be even hotter if you posted those pictures right now, like nothing happened.”

Luna stilled, staring at him for a few seconds, before her lips slowly curved into a smirk of her own. “It would be hotter if I posted it the second after they publish the confirmation statement.”

Jeonghan’s grin was instant. “This is why I love you.”

Before Luna could react, he grabbed her hand, dragging her back toward their room. “Come on,” he said, practically giddy, “let’s get your phone.”

Once inside, Luna sat on the bed, scrolling through her camera roll as Jeonghan wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, gently swaying them from side to side. He rested his chin on her shoulder, watching as she selected the best pictures of herself in the denim outfit.

“What caption should I write?” Luna asked, glancing at him.

Jeonghan stared at the blue denim for a moment before smirking. “‘Something blue.’”

Luna burst out laughing, the sound breaking through the tension that had loomed over them all day. She shook her head at him, but she was already typing the caption.

It was simple, subtle, but so obviously implying their engagement.

And as if the universe itself approved, both of their phones vibrated at the same time.

A notification.

The confirmation statement had been posted.

Luna smirked.

And with zero hesitation, she hit post.

Within seconds, her Instagram was flooded. She giggled as she scrolled through the comments.

> NOT HER JUST POSTING THIS LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED OMG I LOVE HER!

> girl just got exposed and she said “ok but here’s me looking hot”

> mother is mothering and she does not care

> she wins. she actually wins life.

> yoon jeonghan i know you’re somewhere smiling like an idiot rn

And then, as expected, their group chat with the members exploded— as if it wasn’t already.

kwanie: Bae Jiyeon! I hate you. I actually hate you. I was drinking water when I saw your post.

woo: no because why are you so unhinged, our Jiyeonie 😆

shi-shi: CONGRATS BUT ALSO MA’AM PLEASE??

gyu-gyu: this is why you and hyung deserve each other.

hansolie: Respect.

joshie: You really said “scandal? What scandal?” and dropped a thirst trap 😎

Junnie: Queen behavior. Iconic. Trendsetter.

Jihoonie: You’ve always had a talent for choosing violence at the best moments.

Cheollie: Honestly, I’m just mad I didn’t predict this.

kyeomie: CONGRATS BUT ALSO BAE JIYEON PLEASE?? SOME OF US WERE TRYING TO EAT BREAKFAST AND NOW I’M CHOKING ON MY FOOD.

hao-hao: You really just broke the entire internet, huh? I hope you two know that.

channie: Not you breaking the internet and then logging on like “anyway here’s me looking hot.” I’m scared of you, Noona 😀

Luna giggled as she read through the messages, shaking her head in amusement before typing her response.

Luna: Glad to know you all appreciate my art.

A beat passed before another message popped up.

kwanie: Yeah, yeah. But also, for real… congratulations, you two. We’re happy for you 🥹

Cheollie: We love you both, so don’t stress too much, okay?

Luna felt Jeonghan’s arms tighten around her just slightly, as if he had read the messages over her shoulder. And though neither of them said anything in that moment, they didn’t need to. The people who truly knew them, who truly mattered, were here. Supporting them.

And that was enough.

Luna smiled, shaking her head as she typed out her responses. And Jeonghan, watching her with nothing but pure fondness in his eyes, felt something settle deep in his chest.

She was smiling again.

Despite everything, despite the chaos, she had powered through another hurdle thrown her way just like she always does.

That’s the thing about darkness— it makes the moon shine even brighter.

Everyone knew that.

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[kooqitas]

#pairing: virgin!dino x reader.

#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~2400

#synopsis: you knew that your entire rivalry with lee chan was solely sexual attraction, but you didn't expect him to invade the bathroom you were in, much less that he was a virgin.

#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (m.), loss of virginity, spit. cute ending

#notes: i'm a little drunk (nd horny).... sorry guys

★ m.list | inbox :D join my taglist

you and lee chan are the fucked up cliché of students in the same course who can't stand each other for always competing with grades.

you've been at college for almost an year and you can't even count how many times you've argued with him, he's simply unbearable, of course, you sometimes tease him too, but none of that would be necessary if he wasn't so unbearable.

but everything changed tonight, mingyu's damn party, and now lee chan is in the bathroom with you, sucking your neck while grabbing your waist.

things just happened, one moment you were dancing on the dance floor and feeling his gaze burning into you every time your skirt lifted an inch, and the next minute, when you decided to go to the bathroom, he went after you, locking the door and trapping the two of you in the damn bathroom on the second floor of mingyu's house

"what the fuck are you doing?" you asked when you saw him lock the door.

"shut the fuck up for at least a second."

and he kissed you.

lee chan, or dino, as he is also called,  was completely possessive in the way he kissed you, it was hard to differentiate anger and desire since they clearly went together. you didn't judge him, dino could be annoying, but he was hot as hell and you knew it, you just didn't expect him to think the same of you.

"you're so fucking hot, what the fuck is wrong with you wearing that mini skirt? everyone seeing your ass on the dance floor, is that what you wanted?"

"you got turned on because of a mini skirt?" you laugh, clearly teasing the man in front of you. "how much of a virgin are you, lee chan?"

that was funny, you liked to say that dino was a virgin and he only teased you so that at least he could get attention from a woman, you knew it was a lie, after all, he was fucking hot, he definitely had the attention of any woman he wanted.

"fuck, stop calling me a virgin, we're not in college and i’m sure this shitty situation got you as turned on as i’m."

you laughed again, because it was true, fuck, you wanted to die when you entered mingyu's house and saw dino wearing the black shirt and the silver chain around his neck, it was inhuman how hot he looked.

anyways, the first move was his, he followed you to the bathroom, he kissed you, and he tried to take off your skirt at all costs...

wait... what?

"jesus christ, stop acting like a virgin, my skirt doesn't even need to be taken off, lee chan!" you grumbled at him.

"fuck, stop calling me a virgin..." he said, a little more irritated and nervous than usual.

"god, why do you get so offended by that… do you know there's no problem you're a virgin, right?" you keep teasing.

he huffed, dropping his hand from her hip in an instant.

"shit, stop it."

dino's reaction was strange. you were used to teasing each other with much worse things than simply calling each other a virgin. why was he so offended by a simple word? that wouldn't even make sense.

unless...

"wait, are you really a virgin?" you asked, trying to understand the situation.

he didn't answer you, he just started to adjust his clothes, getting ready to leave the bathroom, visibly upset with the whole situation.

"wait. lee chan, are you REALLY a virgin?" you questioned, visibly surprised.

"please, don't tell anyone about it, it's so fucking embarrassing."

"what? no! i'm not gonna tell, i just... i'm just in shock... wait, why the hell are you leaving?" you questioned when he unlocked the door.

"shouldn't i go?"

"hm?" you asked. 

"i'm a virgin..."

"yes, that was the big discovery of the night... and?"

dino looked at you visibly confused, trying to understand why you were stopping him from leaving in that situation.

damn, it was clear that you fought for the most idiotic reasons in the world, that academic rivalry was capable of making you kill each other one day, but lee chan was hot as hell, and you would never miss a night of sex with him JUST because he's a virgin... that's easily solved.

"y-you don't want me to go?"

you approached him, a little irritated, almost like when he bragged about a higher grade than yours.

"you broke into the fucking bathroom, kissed me, i’m completely wet, fuck your damn virginity, lee chan, we're gonna fuck”.

the next few minutes were marked by a wide-eyed dino and you dragging him out of mingyu's house. you ordered an uber straight to your house and thanked god for living in the neighborhood. in less than five minutes, you were in your apartment.

dino sat on your couch, observing every detail of the decor while you were in the kitchen getting him a water. when you arrived, handing him the glass of water, he had enough time to drink it for you to take off your skirt, leaving your white panties with a wet stain on display for him, who gasped when he saw you. he seemed to freeze, and everything got worse when your shirt also fell to the floor and he realized that you weren't wearing a bra.

"you're a virgin but you're definitely not an idiot, take off that shirt and your pants, damn it!" you grumbled, making him take off his clothes immediately, still looking at you. and you couldn't help but notice that the red underwear he was wearing also had a stain, and that turned you on even more.

you climbed onto his lap, attacking him as if he were prey, taking control of the kiss and watching him melt with every inch of your body that he discovered with his fingertips.

you felt him whimper inside you as you slowly rolled on his hard cock, and the sensation made you even wetter. it was clear that he didn't really know what to do, but all the tension in the room was completely exciting.

you felt him move his kisses down to your neck, shy but still possessive, biting and sucking there in a way that would certainly leave marks.

you took one of his hands and placed it on your chest, making him moan...

"you can touch it however you want... with your hands or with your mou-”

and the next second, dino's mouth was on your nipple, in a somewhat desperate way while his tongue swirled around your nipple, his hips crashing against yours and his other hand playing with your free breast in a violent way.

he was a little rough, maybe because of his lack of experience, maybe because of the horniness he felt at the moment, but that wasn't bad, you wanted to be hurt by him.

"for someone who's a virgin, you don't seem nervous!"

"shut up." he said with his mouth still on your nipple. "you don't have to remind me all the time that i'm a virgin."

"but that's what you are... a poor virgin." you teased, laughing when he got angry.

"don't get on my nerves now, damn it, i can't control myself anymore if you keep annoying me..."

"what are you gonna do? you're the virgin here, lee chan. you're the one who needs me if you want your dick to touch some pussy."

he gave a sort of grunt before squeezing your neck. you laughed a little, he was gripping you the wrong way, so you just repositioned his thumb.

"squeeze with your fingers, not with your hand!"

he nodded, squeezing a little harder as he went back to kissing your lips in a voracious way.

the excitement in your body made you grind again, and you could feel his dick getting harder and harder… you patted his hand twice and he let go of your neck at the same time.

"is everything okay? did i hurt you? did i do something wrong?" he asked when you got off his lap.

you didn't answer.

you just knelt in front of him.

"what are you gonna d- OH” he moaned when you touched the tip of your finger to his underwear.

the wet spot was bigger. and the moan he gave was enough to make you lose your sanity.

you distributed little kisses on the wet fabric, making dino moan and hold your hair while lifting his hips seeking more contact. and it was relieving when you actually pulled his underwear down, releasing his fat cock from the fabric.

his cock was hot, not big enough to hurt, but enough to fill you up completely, the swollen head and the bulging veins made you salivate

but he could barely breathe, the next second you were with your mouth on him, putting his whole fat cock in your mouth to suck as if you needed it to survive. the 'ploc' when you removed it for the first time could easily be heard from another room along with his moans, but damn, it was delicious.

lee chan saw stars when your nose touched his pelvis, a sensation he had never felt in his life, your throat vibrating on his thick cock.

and you continued, sucking every inch of his cock and letting your own saliva run down your mouth as you heard him scream that he was going to cum. it was a little early, of course, but you understood that it was his first time and he was sensitive to the new touch.

but you didn't want that.

not now.

"why why why" he questioned when he saw you stopping. "please, don't stop... don't do this to me... i almost..."

"I'll give you something better"

you said, pulling his underwear completely off his body, and then your panties too...

you didn't usually have sex without any preparation, fingering, oral sex, you usually demand at least one of the two, but seeing dino so vulnerable made you forget about anything. and that was why in the next second your pussy was going down on his cock.

it hurt a little, but the burning of being opened by a cock was extremely pleasurable, especially because the owner of the thick cock was completely crazy underneath you.

"fuck, i’m gonna go crazy, this- fuck-"

you raised your hips and lowered them once, watching him lose control.

his hand went back to squeezing your hips hard while the other played with your tits, all while he whimpered incoherent words.

"you're so beautiful" "your pussy is so tight." "so hot" "mine. fuck you're mine"

"i'm not yours!" you scolded him, going even faster on his cock.

at this point the shock of their bodies was audible, as were the eager moans of both of them, despite not being a virgin you hadn't had sex in a few months...

lee chan kissed you, the mess of the kiss making you go even harder on him, your tongues clashing and even the chattering of your teeth was extremely exciting.

you felt him pinch your nipple again, and that was the end for you.

you laid his head on the couch, and took advantage of his open mouth from his moans to spit there, ordering him to swallow it right after.

dino obeyed, he swallowed your spit and looked at you with a look that bordered on devotion. you were already whimpering on his cock, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold on to that position for much longer, your own orgasm was coming and you couldn't think...

"no no no, please don't stop," he begged, placing his big hand on your waist.

"i- i can't control it, fuck, it's too much."

the truth is that deep down he was a little bothered for not having 'done' much, after all, you were in control the whole time. and he was overcome by this, and by the overwhelming excitement he felt, that he grabbed the arm around your waist, forcing you to lay your body under his.

“le-lemme-”

he put his foot on your coffee table, and began to fuck you like an animal, desperately and roughly seeking his own orgasm. you couldn't even think, the rough movements taking you to his as you felt his cock open you up hard. the way he held your body as if he wanted to merge with you, adding to the way he moaned making your pussy pulsate more and more.

"fuck- so good-" you moaned, with your mouth glued to his, but without even being able to think about what was happening.

"mine. fuck, you're mine, this pussy is mine. i'm gonna fuck you forever, me, only me, but no one. fuck, so hot." he said between the eager moans he gave.

one of his hands from your waist went to your hair, and he kissed you, in a completely clumsy way but he kissed you, and that was how he came inside you.

you felt his hot liquid running inside you at the same time that his legs trembled. and that was enough for you to come too.

and he continued thrusting, slowly, enjoying his liquid that was now leaking out.

"mine. you're mine." he moaned softly.

"i'm not yo-"

"shhh... shut up. you're cumming on my dick after taking my virginity."

"that doesn't make me yours..."

"so you don't want it again?"

you didn't answer. it was clear you want it...

"mine..." he teased again.

deep down you knew that all your fighting had always been about pent-up fucking lust, and you were glad it was finally over.

his cock slipped out, and he laughed when your legs shook on top of his...

"something tells me you want more..."

"dude, shut up"

"shut up my mouth for me...put your pussy here, sweetheart!"

"what happened to the whole 'virgin thing'?"

"if you taught me how to use a dick you'll definitely teach me how to use my mouth"

"goodbye lee chan" you laughed.

you settled down on the couch, even though you both knew you wouldn't be sleeping there, but in your bed...and probably in a spoon...

"i'm not kidding... you really are mine now."

you remained silent.

"aren't you gonna say anything?"

"no, i think i agree with that."

#

@highvivvy

[hoshifighting]

Can you please do svt members who eat out their girls because they want to pleasure them vs those who genuinely fucking love the taste of pussy vs those who are so into eating out they might just cum totally untouched while eating you out

why svt like to eat pussy?

WARNINGS: pure putaria and smut, oral (f. receiving), pussy-drunk analogy.

eats you out bc he wants to pleasure you

seungcheol: the type to give you a speech about how he’s a man of duty and literally write essays about making sure you have toe-curling, back-arching, crying-in-pleasure levels of satisfied.

seungkwan: gold star service provider. it’s giving “nothing but the best for my baby.” he type to ask for feedback mid-session like, “is that good? or do you want me to go harder?”

wonwoo: mf reads books about anatomy to perfect his technique. he’s meticulous as hell, but he’s also so quiet and focused while doing it that you’re left wrecked because how does he even know your body better than you??

seokmin: he’s just so happy to make you happy. he’s the king of telling you how good you’re doing while he’s down there, and it’s the most wholesome yet sinful thing ever.

vernon: this man’s lowkey about it. he’s not saying much—he’s just doing it. very intuitive, very chill, but still SO effective. the kind who gives lazy and broad licks but somehow leaves you shaking. and when he’s done, he’s like, “you wan’me to order some food?” like he didn’t just wreck your entire existence. would probably frown at the sight of your legs shaking. (gives this vibe of that one meme: my boyfriend just left me trembling, and now he is playing minecraft)

2. loves the taste of pussy

jeonghan: smirks while wiping his mouth this man will straight-up tell you he loves the way you taste. and the thing is, he’s cocky but he’s earned it. you’re left wondering who’s being pleasured here because he’s moaning like he’s the one getting off.

joshua: sweet, until he’s between your legs like a man possessed, act like you’re a full-course meal, and he is starving. will kiss you after, totally unbothered that you can taste yourself on his lips.

minghao: he’s the type to tell you you’re delicious with the most deadpan sincerity while licking his lips, and it’s lowkey terrifying how good he is at it.

jun: this man is an enthusiast. he’ll legit say, “I could do this all day,” and you believe him. will pause mid-session to kiss your thighs just to prolong his enjoyment. he is is savoring you like the main course you are.

vernon (again, because he’s sneaky like that): listen, once he gets a taste, it’s game over. sure, he acts chill, but he’s obsessed. you’ll hear him humming into you, vibing just like when the waiter put your fav food on your table.

3. so into eating out they might cum untouched (y’all already know these men are problems)

mingyu: he would grind against the mattress and your leg just from how turned on he is. you’d hear him moaning WITH YOU, and suddenly it’s not just about you anymore—he’s a mess, and it’s hot.

hoshi: would put his whole chest into it like it’s a performance. he’s slurping, he’s whining, and he’s holding onto you for dear life while losing himself in the process. will look up at you with those wide, starry eyes like, “did I do good, baby?” (might need a minute after because he is too into it)

woozi: his arms are locked around your thighs so you can’t run. his tongue is completely illegal. you’re sobbing, and he’s just groaning into you like it’s his orgasm. would cum untouched 100% and then smirk about it.

chan: this man is hungry. his whole vibe is;; “you’re my first meal of the day, and I’m starving.” mf has no shame, no chill, and no limits. he’s gripping your thighs like his life depends on it, grinding into the mattress because he’s that turned on. when he cums untouched, he’s shocked AND EMBARASSED like he wasn't literally eating you out seconds ago.

[bella-feed]

joshua + playing with your hair until you fall asleep

warmth of winter masterlist

bella's masterlist || taglist

tagging :: @mooniewrld, @syluslittlecrows , @joepomonerof , @potayaa

[20:42]

the keys rattled against the door, signaling your arrival from work. even though your husband had his day off, you still had to go for your 7-hour work shift today. your day at work was vile, causing you to be extremely tired and anxious. you looked like you could cry any minute now.

but you still smiled when you saw shua making you dinner. "hi. how was work, darling?" he asked in a sweet voice. you shrugged keeping your bag on the chair and walking towards the refrigerator to get a glass of water.

he turned off the stove and looked at you, patiently waiting for you to answer his question. "you look tired, darling. do you need anything?" you shrugged, not answering his question. "baby, use your words, please." he requested softly, while walking towards you.

you immediately hugged him and started crying. you yourself did not know why you were crying. was it because of how bad your manager treated you, or because of your workload?

josh neither asked you why you were crying nor did he loosen his grip on your waist. he held you close till you finally stopped crying. one thing you always were sure about was that joshua would never be the one to let you suffer anything alone.

after your small breakdown no one uttered a word. but him being a gentleman and your sweet husband, he helped you unwind. after dinner (where you almost ate nothing), he picked you up and helped you in the bed.

not even for a second did he leave you when you again had a small breakdown on the bed. he held you close, whispering encouraging words and sweet nothings in your ear to calm you down.

when you finally calmed down, tears still ran down your face, joshua kissed all of your tears away, which he always did whenever you cried, making you fall for him even more.

he played with your hair until you finally slept hearing his soft heartbeats. he felt really bad for how vile your work was but he made sure you weren't going through it alone. he was always there for and with you.

[wc: 337 credits: @novelbear (prompt) and @sanaxo-o (beta reading]