#dasom moodboard

[kpopfeeds]

Sistar 

06.26.2023 

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

⛸️ Summary: Would you rather A) represent Seoul at the Spring Championship, B) find the answer as to why Mingi was ignoring you or C) stay in your shared flat for the winter holidays? How smart of you to go with option D), none of the above.

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst!!!

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: Female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (princess, beans), a lot of tears and crying, probably incorrect use of hockey terms, fist fight, blood, verbal fight, Mingi is really mean but also aware he's being a douche, Dasom is a good friend, more side characters!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

⛸️ Author's note: I freaking love angst 😈 Hence why I've looked forward to the third part of Cold Hands, Warm Hearts! A warning, I have absolutely ZERO knowledge about hockey so the things you'll read concerning the hockey game may or may not be wrong idk. I've tried watching a lot of hockey games on YouTube, but they move so fucking fast I can barely wrap my head around what's happening lmaooo.

I also wanted to write my own comments for the chapter (something I should have done since the first part tbh), but I've been home with a fever for some days now and I honestly can barely sit up, let alone write extra stuff so I'm sadly skipping out on that. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this part and don't be shy to tell me your thoughts 🩷

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs refrain from reading this work!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

December 9th, 2024. 

The day was marked in Mingi’s little red calendar he kept away in his backpack — not that he needed the reminder, the day was practically burned into his mind — and the fanciest suit he owned was ironed three nights prior with the help of his best friend and roommate, Jeong Yunho. One would think it was an important day — as to explain why he woke up at a presentable hour with enough time to spare for a few errands and a brunch with his roommate — an exam determining his final grade or something to do with his hockey, but no it was just the day of your competition. 

Currently sitting in a sandwich shop, thumbs twirling and eyes set on the flower shop across the street, Mingi contemplated whether bringing a bouquet  — maybe roses or those tulips, they were quite popular nowadays — would be too much or not at all. The two parts of his brain clashed and before he could make a decision Yunho came back with their orders, a teriyaki chicken sandwich for Mingi while he ordered something nasty looking with a really fancy and long name that Mingi couldn’t bother remembering. 

“There you go.” Yunho settled in the seat across Mingi and dove right into his food, letting out a moan of approval. “Best sandwich in town, no kidding.”

“Do girls like flowers?”

Caught mid bite, cheeks coated with crumbs and mayonnaise, Yunho looked up at Mingi who already had his eyes set on him with a seriousness that rarely outshone his happy and goofy exterior. 

“Uhm, I suppose. I mean the girls I’ve given flowers to liked the gesture. Why? You looking to impress someone, Mings?” A teasing smile quirked at the edge of his lips. “Is it a quick fuck?”

“Dude?!” Mingi hissed and quickly threw a glance around the room making sure no one overheard their convo and labeled them as creeps.

“Oh, come on, we’ve talked about worse things than some sex deets.”

“It was a simple question, Yunho-ya. Do flowers equal happy girls? Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

Sensing this wasn’t a topic Mingi was all too keen to talk about, Yunho gave him some space and took another bite of his sandwich. Then he remembered their conversation three days ago and how Mingi begged him to help him iron his suit and teach him how to properly handle a tie, and if that wasn’t enough of a reason then he could always use the we’ve-been-friends-since-diapers card and pry whatever information he wanted out of him.

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

“Absolutely not… Do you think she’d like roses or tulips?”

Mouth full of bacon, tomato, lettuce and bread, Yunho mumbled out a barely audible answer. “Roses. Definitely roses.”

“I’m just saying if Hyunjin brings you roses I’ll jump in front of the ice resurfacer!” 

Keeho laid flat on your bed, legs dangling in the air and chin propped on both palms as his eyes burned holes on your back. While rummaging through your closet you threw a random shirt over your shoulder, purposely aiming it at him and you knew it was a success as he let out a surprised ‘ack’.

“That’s what you get for being noisy,” Dasom chirped and rolled over him, her feet hitting your pillow and arms reaching the end of your bed.

“You guys promised to help me pack! I’m so going to be late.” 

An empty duffel bag sat on your bed beside the entanglement of limbs that were your friends. Despite waking up a whole twelve hours before your planned departure, you were running late or would be if you didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.

“Fine, but I’m just helping because I know you’ll make it big one day and I can use it to be a multimillionaire influencer. Yoon Keeho, best friend of the South Korean Olympic figure skater. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

Another shirt hit him in the face, this one coming straight out of the dirtied piles of clothes in the corner.

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.” 

Dasom repositioned to sit criss-crossed in front of your bag and began neatly placing necessary things inside; towel, spare change of clothes, bobby pins, hairspray, your skates. 

“Where’s your suit?” She asked while zipping the bag.

“My coach still has it. Something about seeing it before the comp would bring bad luck or whatever. Like it’s a competition not a wedding and Keeho, get out I need to change.”

“I bet a round of lamb skewers Hyunjin is proposing after the comp– I’m leaving, I’m leaving, put that down!”

As the door closed you quickly stripped and threw on a sweatsuit bearing the logo of Tiny University printed on the front and back. Knowing you were practically working on autopilot while your nerves skyrocketed, Dasom didn’t want to step out of bounds and send you into a potential spiral of panic and stress but she was also very curious, and her greed won over her morals. With a soft call of your name she asked the million dollar question. 

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

You froze with your hands in your hair, a bobby pin between your fingers and an extra in your mouth as your gaze fell on her. Flashing you a derpy yet reassuring smile that warmed you up like the sun on a summer afternoon filled with sugary strawberries and pink lemonade. 

“No… Not just Hyunjin, I actually invited Mingi too, but I… don’t know why.” 

You plopped down beside her and played with your fingers. It all felt so silly and you didn’t even have the time to think about him or Hyunjin or anything boy related overall. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact it was great, but that meant your mind was completely occupied of nailing your choreo, imaging everything that could go wrong and to not let anything go fucking wrong. 

“Maybe it just felt right,” she whispered, as if the words were made of steel and you were of twigs that would break at the slightest contact.

Sighing, you nodded and fell back on your bed with Dasom in tow. There wasn’t much left to say. You couldn’t remember what drunk-you thought when inviting Mingi nor did you want to know. All you knew was that your heart did that little leap thing before violently kicking at your rib cage when he said he’d be there and that was concerning but not more so than your competition taking place in a few hours. 

If Mingi showed up, great.

If he didn’t then that was great too, is what you forced yourself into believing.

Mingi stood before a body-length mirror and kept running his hand through his neatly made hair. Yunho placed a palm over Mingi’s shoulder and the shifting motion immediately subdued only to proceed as the hand withdrew. 

“Stop moving around dude, you’re making me nervous!” 

Taking a step back, Yunho quietly assessed Mingi, searching for creases in his black suit or stray hairs standing up funny. There were no faults, his tall friend — that was still slightly shorter than himself — looked perfect appearance wise. It was the slight twitch of his finger and sweat collecting at the nape of his neck that gave him away.

“Why are you so nervous, Mingi-ya? It’s just a figure skating competition, nothing more nothing less.”

Taking a hold of the perfectly wrapped bouquet of heart-colored roses he paid a good penny for, Mingi pouted and shrugged his shoulders as if a toddler being put on the spot for doing something bad.

 “I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

Yunho, dressed in an old tattered shirt and bright red basketball shorts with his naturally dark hair growing at the roots and taking on the look of pudding, was ready to drop everything and jump in his brand new suit planned for their graduation if that’s what Mingi needed.

“No, no. I’ll be fine, it’s just… Don’t you think it’s too much? Flowers, a suit? It’s a figure skating competition not a wedding.”

“Does it matter? Personally, if it were me, I’d rather see the girl I invited put in the effort even if it means wearing nice clothes over something raggedy. This shows you care.”

“I guess…”

Mingi jumped as Yunho reassuringly landed his hands on his shoulders, giving him an encouraging squeeze and smiling so his cheeks puffed up. “Come on, let’s get that tie fixed and then I’ll give you a lift.”

“Ah, the privileges of not having a driver’s license.”

“You mean the privileges of being a passenger princess?”

“Yah, Yunho-ya!” Came the whine as Mingi followed his friend like a kicked puppy on a rainy Monday morning. 

The arena was packed and while it wasn’t an unusual sight for Mingi — always being a witness of how the bleachers slowly filled up during his warm ups —  it was weird seeing it from an outside perspective. Everything seemed so much smaller and compact compared to when he was on the ice squinting past the blinding headlights to barely even catch a glimpse of the audience. Other than practice and hockey game, Mingi had no reason to visit the arena. There was no other sport that piqued his interest enough to stand in line, pay an overpriced entry fee and freeze his ass off on a plastic chair. He’d usually just enter through the changing rooms and skip all that yet there he was, all glammed up and standing behind a family wearing shirts with the name of some random chick printed in big bold letters. 

Thinking about it, Mingi couldn’t actually give less of a fuck about figure skating and months ago he didn’t care who represented Seoul or if they were even capabale to compete with the other cities. 

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

“We are friends,” you said matter-of-factly, your ‘S’ coming out with a lisp. “Alllll my friends are going.”

“You want me to come to your competition princess?”

“You’ll come?!”

You slinked your arm through his and squished it against your chest, cheek pressed to his bicep as you looked at him. One would believe Mingi hung up each and every single star individually in your name for you to look at him that way.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll be there.”

It was your stupid yet endearing eyes that did it all. The little shining glint that completely vexed him and before he knew it, the promise slipped off his tongue and was spoken into existence. Mingi didn’t get to indulge more in the memory of the beauty that was your face as the lights dimmed and an enthusiastic voice boomed through the speakers, welcoming everyone and announcing the start of the preliminary that would determine the female representative of Seoul at the annual Spring Championship. 

Honestly, Mingi didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know a lot of things; how long this would be, what time your performance would start, was he supposed to find you after or before they announced the winner? It also didn’t help that he was sweating through his dress shirt despite the freezing temperature inside. 

Performance after performance passed and he was yet to catch sight of you. Honestly speaking, Mingi was growing impatient. The numbers weren’t anything extraordinary — he had seen you do much better even when ending on your rear — and he wasn’t here to watch some mediocre ladies flip around to classical music. The weight of his phone burned in his suit pocket and he was itching to reach for it. He was three taps away from dialing Yunho and making the taller man pick him up again. Oblivious to the curious and soft eyes peering at the bouquet in his lap, Mingi stared at the ice rink with a far away look on his face and bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Those are beautiful,” a voice came from his left. It was comforting and full of kindness. 

Snapping his head towards the person, Mingi faced a woman looking old enough to be his mom. The compliment pulled at the corners of his lips and soon a full blown boxy smile took over his face as his eyes creased into crescent moons. 

“Thank you.”

Mingi contemplated whether to hand her the darned flowers and leave while you still hadn’t caught sight of him, that way his money wouldn’t go to waste and the flowers wouldn’t end up in the bin outside the venue.

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

“Song Mingi,” he curtly answered with a little bow of his head.

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

As kind as this woman looked she sure was twice the amount noisy.

“No, they are for a… friend. She’s competing today.”

“Oh, when is she up?”

At the sight of his uncertainty, she handed Mingi a pamphlet with several numbers followed by first- and last names of the competitors. Quickly scanning the sheet of paper he landed on your name in last place and with the twenty-ninth performer taking her starting pose right as Mingi looked back up again. The urge to squish his face against the pamphlet was immense. 

“She’s last.”

“Oh! That’s Hoseok’s kid. She’s amazing and if it weren’t for my Chaeryeongie I’d root for her.”

Pride swelled in his chest and heat nipped at his cheeks. He tried suppressing the fond smile forcing its way out but failed.

“It’s actually my first time watching her perform but yeah, she’s pretty… p-pretty cool!”

“Really? Well, it’s better late than never.”

Why Mingi was getting flustered was beyond him. Not wanting to think about it and eventually fall down a rabbit hole he always did when thinking of you, he nodded and took the praise with the lady leaving a pat on his shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re smiling! Are you sure she’s just a friend?”

Mingi lowered his chin and avoided the teasing eyes of Chaeryeong’s mom. No way was he talking about girl problems with a random lady at a figure skating competition. 

“Would you spare my seat? I just need to go to the restroom.”

“Of course, son.”

With one last bow he ran up the stairs leading to the main hall and straight for the male restroom which  — to his delight  — was empty. Mingi released a breath of unease and stopped by the sink hoping to wash away the sweat collected on his hands. Looking at his reflection in the oblong mirror, he pursed his lips and splashed cold water on his face before lightly slapping his cheeks.

“It’s easy. We hand her the flowers, tell her she did great and then we leave.”

Mingi couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous over talking to a girl. Thinking about it, he talked to you all the time. Yes, most of it was hidden behind jokes and teasing remarks, but it still counted as talking.

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

The booming voice of the announcer echoed through the whole building and with a quick ‘shit’ falling from his lips, Mingi dried his hands off his expensive pants and ran back into the arena receiving weird stares from other people, but he wasn’t about to miss the start of your performance after waiting for over two hours. In sync with you gliding out on the ice he flew past the double doored entrance and caught himself on the metal railing. Mingi realized there was no need to go back to his previous spot, not when he had a great view of the whole ice rink from where he stood and a great look of you posing in the middle, one arm elegantly thrown over your head and the other following the length of your figure and stopping midthigh.

Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, angelic, breathtaking, enchanting, marvelous and other adjectives wouldn’t do the justice to describe how truly captivating you looked. 

The first thing that caught his attention was your costume. It was a long sleeved dress transitioning from dark to light blue with sparkly beads going down your chest, across your abdomen and arms in a tilted motion as if the foam of multiple waves. Your costume had a tiny skirt which Mingi was sure would swirl prettily when pirouetting and twirling in the air. The upper part of your dress took on the shape of a heart and went down your back in a v-form leaving your collars, shoulders and back completely exposed. Your hair was styled in a sturdy updo matching the elegance of your suit and while Mingi couldn’t see your make-up, he assumed it would reflect the colors of your dress and accentuate your facial features in just the right way.

The starting notes of your chosen song erupted from the speakers and Mingi’s breath got caught in his throat as you glided across the ice, his heart beating in rhythm to your every landed jump. You moved with grace and for once the teasing nickname he reserved just for you had no malice objective behind it. You surrendered yourself to the music and allowed it to guide you, your body resembled the elements of nature and became an entity that was no longer your own. Moving like the ripples of a wind, flowing and rising as though you were water yet curving fiercely as a controlled fire and flourishing like a sunflower yearning for light.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

Mingi would rather have spent two hours watching you skate than those other amateurs and he was slightly bitter your number only lasted for four minutes. 240 seconds of no breathing or thinking, just existing to admire you as if you were a painting exhibited in the most famous art museum in the world.

As you were entering the last moments of your performance, the music picked up and you mentally prepared yourself to do the main stunt. There was no turning back now and with confidence pumping in your veins, you inhaled and propelled yourself off the ice. Time slowed down and magically you could somehow hear the amazed gasps of the audience. Your body spun, and spun and spun and you felt the start of gravity doing its work. As if caught in a sense of Déjà Vu, the sharp point of your skates chipped the ice and threw your landing off course, and before you knew it, you landed on the outer side of your thigh. The crowd gasped again, the tone much more horrible than a few seconds ago, and all you wanted to do was continue to lay on the cold surface, but the show was yet to be over. In hopes of saving your score, you recovered with a double-axel which wasn’t nearly as appealing as the one you failed, but at least you landed it.

The performance ended with you posing in the middle — much like you practiced — and waiting for the last piano notes to run out. Despite your big fail the arena erupted in chaos of applause and whistles. Thanking the spectators with three respectful bows — each facing a different side — you skated off the ice with shaky legs and a heart hammering in your ears falling right in the arms of your coach. Mingi didn’t move until you rounded the corner towards the locker rooms and disappeared from his sight. 

A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 

Mingi sighed at the memory and stalked back to his seat where the kind family and bouquet of roses waited on him. 

“You missed her performance!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed and handed him the flowers.

Mingi smiled shyly, then scratched the back of his neck. “Ah no, I watched from up there.” He turned and pointed at the spot he was standing in not even thirty seconds ago. “It was a better view so yeah…”

Chaeryeong’s mom smiled tenderly with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “What a relief! You got me worried for a minute but I should’ve known you wouldn’t miss it.”

“She was amazing,” Mingi stated and received a smug look from the woman.

“Mmm, I told you so. It’s a shame she fell. Well, we’re going out for a breather but we’ll be back so please save our seats for us.”

You sat in one of the locker rooms, head in your hands and feet tapping on the floor. The performance couldn’t have been more perfect, all for it to go to shit in the end.

All the hours, sweat and energy put into practice was a waste and you didn’t have to wait for the winner to be announced to know whether it was true or not. It was ironic really, despite being in a competitive sport, you hated the concept of competitions. The idea that there could only be one winner always got to your head like a parasite planting eggs of anxiety. Your number was great, but your fall made the other girls as good if not better and that really got you spiraling. 

Not to mention neither of your parents could make it, the timing clashing with their working schedules besides driving back and forth from your hometown was too exhausting for one day. Keeho and Dasom weren’t there either, occupied with work or school projects making it unreasonable for you to be angry with them. You also didn’t spot Hyunjin or Mingi in the audience which wasn’t that much of a surprise as you could barely make out the people in the front row, but nonetheless, the lack of support was weighing on you. That’s why in these situations, you were so grateful for Mr. Jung. Not only being your coach, but for stepping up as a ten man army of supporters.

A series of knocks snapped you out of your thoughts followed by Mr. Jung’s voice on the other side.

“You ready, star? They are announcing the winner.”

“Oh, look! I think they are announcing the winner!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed as she sat back down in her seat.

The competing figure skaters went back out on the ice in a neat row, all dressed in various shimmering suits creating a palette of multiple colors. The whole crowd quieted down as the announcer asked for silence and simultaneously caught everyone’s attention. Not Mingi’s though, no his eyes were set on you who — together with the other girls — lined up behind the host. 

Hands trembling and breath caught in your throat, you didn’t allow yourself to think of anything. You felt like your head was underwater. It wasn’t scary or suffocating, but not a great feeling either as you couldn’t hear anything clearly thanks to the blood pumping in your ears. Somehow you could make out the distant voice of the man holding the mic, but no words were being registered. Focusing on the white translucent puffs of your short inhales and exhales, you didn’t hear the thick voice announcing the winner. It all happened incredibly fast. One second everyone was at the edge of their seats — you imagined them to be nibbling their nails like in the cartoons — and the next thing you know, the whole arena exploded in cheers. You were so out of it you hadn’t even heard the announcement of the winner. Although it didn’t matter, because a second later the call for a girl who wasn’t you sounded through the speakers as she was welcomed up on the podium. 

“Everyone! A round of applause for Seoul's representative of the Spring Championship 2025!”

You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into the ocean as a booming wave of applause and whistles scattered around, shaking you to the core. Tears sprung to your eyes and you silently thanked the makeup artist for using waterproof cosmetics, the last thing you needed was for everyone to notice your emotional breakdown. The winner skated up to the host and he rewarded her with a bouquet of various flowers and a sash reading ‘Seoul Representative 2025’ in gold letters. You imagined him to be wishing her good luck and words of encouragement before letting her shine in the light of attention and praise.

After bowing to the girls, judges and audience you skated out of the rink and threw yourself in Mr. Jung’s embrace who patiently waited by the open board door. His heart smile didn’t hold quite reach its natural form and came out more pained than what he’d like to and his creased eyes mirrored your own sad expression. The flashes of a dozen cameras quickly annoyed you as well as the sound of the gadgets going off and you tried your best ignoring them, but each flicker was like a stab to your heart.

You were supposed to be the winner. The camera was supposed to be on you, not on that girl.

“It’s alright, starshine. Winning is not always guaranteed,” he whispered and hugged you tighter as you started crying harder, hot tears soaking his shirt. 

He stayed with you a while inside the locker room. The silence and your occasional sniffles were the only sources of sound, besides the light chattering noise outside. 

“I’m still proud of you.”

The simple sentence brought another fresh set of tears to your eyes and you hung your head in defeat, and slight embarrassment. 

“I know you think it’s not fair and that you should be the winner of tonight's event, but that would have been too easy and that’s just not something life is… We’ll break down and start again.”

Mr. Jung had always been exceptional at shifting between being a serious and humorous coach, but the current words spoken came from someone who had experienced failure before. From one loser to another, his little words of wisdom helped you get on your feet even if you felt like you were at the lowest point of your adult life. It would still take days to get over your disappointing performance, but you’d be alright. With a pat to your head, he ushered you to wash the blue feelings off. 

While you did that, Mingi found himself once again in the bathroom, wet hands combing through strands of hair in an attempt to look less disheveled and more like he had his shit together (he did in fact not have his shit together). He sniffed the collar of his suit jacket and then his armpits, and as he didn’t detect the smell of sweat, but the aroma of his favorite cologne — that smelled of bergamot and lavender — he straightened the jacket and went out to accomplish his mission or rather plan B. 

Instead of congratulating you, like he initially planned to, he’d do something else — and what that was, he had yet to figure out — but from his own experience, he’d known better than to give you praise, especially after losing by a few points. 

Skipping two steps down the stairs, he stopped by the see-through doors instead of continuing down the hallway with several changing rooms. Mingi didn’t know what room you were assigned to and even if he did, he wasn’t planning on barging in while you were possibly getting dressed or showering. The vision of a soapy you sent heat rushing to his head, both of them, but were quickly discarded as you came out. 

You looked different from the girl twirling on the ice minutes ago. Wet hair and dressed in comfy clothes, no fancy make up or extravagant details, but a solemn expression and puffy eyes. It didn’t matter though because you were still beautiful, he thought and fixed his tie out of sheer anxiety, and opened the door. Your name swayed at the tip of his tongue and was just in need of a small push to reach your ears. Eyes entirely focused on you, Mingi missed the boy walking towards him and slinking through the opening created by the taller man.

“Thanks, bud.” Hyunjin didn’t spare Mingi another glance as he headed straight for you. 

At a loss for words and frozen in place, Mingi just watched you fall comfortably in Hyunjin’s arms and as if a masochist he stood rooted and felt his heart squeeze painfully as you melted in his hold, your sobs filling the bleak silence taking residue in Mingi’s head. 

One, two, three and four seconds later, Mingi headed home, hands stuffed in his pockets and roses left in the trashcan by the smoking area outside. Thinking back to it, he should’ve given them to Chaeyeon’s mom — or whatever her name was — at least then they’d be rotting away on someone’s kitchen table and not in a random bin on the streets of Seoul.

Entering the shared apartment with Yunho nowhere in sight — something Mingi was grateful for — he stripped out of the expensive clothes and pushed them to the back of his closet, saving his future-self from a painful reminder of what did and didn’t happen. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, he knew not to be angry with you, but the other part, the selfish and angry one, put the entire blame on you. If there was one thing hated more than losing, it was to be made into a fool.

“I can’t believe I lost,” you said and downed a shot of soju. 

Hyunjin quickly snatched the soju bottle from beside you before you could pour yourself another shot, your sixth one to be exact.

You frowned and placed your palms against your heated cheeks. “I’m never figure skating again.”

After the little meet up with Hyunjin, he requested (more like demanded) on treating you to food, and while you insisted he admitted he’d do it either way if you lost or won. That was how you ended up in a meat house, sitting around a table for two as Hyunjin grilled the food. 

“Don’t be silly. If you give up now you’ll never win.”

You rolled your eyes and the frown turned even deeper. Gazing down at the sizzling meat, your mouth watered and stomach rumbled impatiently. You could already taste the savory flavors just by looking at it. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me here looking like this.” 

Hyunjin raised a brow, genuinely not understanding what you meant. To him you looked just fine in a pair of leggings and hoodie, and it didn’t matter that your hair was still wet or your face bare of makeup because you were perfect.

“What’s wrong with the way you look? I think you’re cute.”

A fire lightened in your core and rose up to your cheeks, ears and neck, and the air in the restaurant changed too, suddenly feeling as if you were a chicken sitting in an oven. As your heart didn’t do its usual badum-badum-badum, you realized the effect Hyunjin had on you didn’t appear. You were surprisingly calm. Unbothered even and instead of buzzing with joy you were counting down the seconds until it was time to leave. 

Not to get you wrong, you loved his company. You’d been dreaming of days like these since the first time you laid eyes on him and now that you had it, all you wanted was nothing more than to jump in bed and just go into hibernation, and forget about the world.

Something was telling you though, that even if you were eating meat and celebrating your win, you still wouldn’t feel the spirit of a winner. Deep inside, you knew the root of it. The reason as to why a gray cloud hovered over you — besides losing — and it all led back to the absence of a certain hockey player.

“Here, try this.” Hyunjin gently hand fed you a piece of beef and other fillings wrapped in lettuce. “It’s good, huh?”

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. His knitted sweater was an ugly shade of moss green but it looked good on him, much to your dismay. 

You sighed and sucked through your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Why wasn’t he there?

It was as if the universe was out to get you. 

First, you lost a spot at the Spring Championship. Then you failed an assignment that took a month of your life to get done, and if that wasn’t enough, the representative face of Seoul at next year’s championship was plastered all over town. She was even on the newspaper thrown in your mailbox, which you hadn’t subscribed to! If it weren’t for your personal duo of Chip and Dale, you’d skip school just to avoid it all. 

To say, you were feeling down right shit would be an understatement, and everyone around you could feel it. That was probably why Mr. Jung canceled a whole week’s worth of practice and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

Besides your friends and coach giving you space or peppering you with love, there was another person to be added in that equation. Hyunjin made sure to spend more time with you, always asking to go out for lunch or a stroll in the park that usually ended up with window shopping and eating ice cream. 

“Felix and Changbin have been dying to meet you, you know,” Hyunjin stated as he scooped a spoon of chocolate ice cream.

“Really?” 

You remembered Changbin solely by his Halloween party and you pushed aside the other memories that came along with that night. The other boy, Felix, you knew a little next to nothing about. 

“Yeah, they haven’t stopped pestering me about it, especially Changbin.”

“Mmm, have you been talking about me, Hyunjin-ah?” 

The black haired boy grew red at the teasing and nearly choked on the plastic spoon. 

“Wh-what!” 

It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered and it sure was a different sight from his usual composed self. Your chuckle filtered between the giggles and chatter of multiple friend groups. It was a surprise to see so many people outside in the snow. Hyunjin eventually calmed down and returned to his natural skin color, and he proceeded with caution at his next question, slightly afraid to walk straight into another teasing trap.

“They are going to watch that hockey game… if you want, it would be a great time to meet them.”

Truth to be told, you had completely forgotten about that sport and it had everything to do with Mingi, the only connection you had to the hockey team of your university. The last time you saw him was a few days before your performance and you hadn’t seen him since, at one moment you thought he disappeared to another country, but Keeho’s confirmation of seeing him on campus debunked that theory. It wasn’t that weird though, considering you hadn’t stepped foot in the ice rink and didn’t share any classes with him, courtesy of majoring in two completely different studies.

You wouldn’t say it to anyone, not even Dasom, but the less you saw of him, the more bored you got. Obviously, you didn’t miss his irksome comments or that stupid pet name he’d use at any given moment, yet the days seemed to go slower without the pain in the ass of a man. Going to that hockey game would maybe change that, and what better excuse than to go with Hyunjin?

“Of course! I mean,” you cleared your throat. “Of course, I’ll check if I’m free and then I’ll let ya know.”

“Great. It’s next Friday and, unluckily, I pulled the short straw so I’ll be driving… So if you can and want, there's space in my car.”

Parting your mouth to answer, the left side of your brain suddenly halted all your speech function as you caught sight of a familiar figure. 

In the many places of Seoul, he just had to be in the same park as you. Wearing a blue tracksuit with the slogan of a wolf on the front and running sneakers adorning his feet, told you he was out on a late night run. It was quite unfair how even with his hair sticking to his nape and sweat trickling down the sides of his face, Mingi still looked great.

You and Mingi had never been friends — that much you knew — but for him to just run past you without as much as a nod of acknowledgement had you questioning if something was wrong. His exhausted eyes morphed into a nasty glare as they landed on you, which served as a nail in the coffin to your theories.

“Was that Song Mingi?” Hyunjin asked from beside you.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

Laying upside down on your bed with feet tucked beneath your pillow and your head a few inches from the edge apparently wasn’t a normal thing to do if Dasom assumed something was going on.

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.” 

Everything was perfectly fine if you ignored the fact that Mingi was angry with you and was intentionally avoiding you like the plague.

“Mmmm.” 

Dasom fell back and mimicked your position, arms thrown out and eyes locked on the ceiling. Some days were like that, spent doing absolutely nothing. Wrapped in big fuzzy blankets laying in either her or your bed, getting lost in space or scrolling endlessly through tiktok until the clock struck the early hours of the morning.

“You still going to that game?”

You huffed, “Yeah. I promised Hyunjin I’d go and he wants to introduce me to some of his friends in return. Is Hongjoong still coming over?”

“He hasn’t rain checked on me yet, so I think so.” She drummed her fingers against her shorts-clad thighs. “Isn’t the game at eight?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

You slid down to the floor, brows furrowed and lips titled. “What time is it?”

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

The blood rushed up to your head at your abrupt movement and the whole room spun as black spots clouded your vision. Left with no choice you laid back down and clutched your skull as you tried taking control of your own body again, all while assessing the situation. The game started at eight and you had approximately thirty minutes to get changed and figure out a way to get there before then. The messages Hyunjin sent you earlier today flashed in your mind and you were starting to regret turning down his offer to pick you up, at least then you wouldn’t risk being late and embarrassing yourself in front of his friends.

“Okay, I’m jumping in the shower real quick while you put together an outfit for me that doesn’t scream ‘I spent five minutes on this’ as I walk through the doors.”

Jumping to her feet with an imaginary tail wagging left and right, she saluted. A determined yet excited look on her face. Besides writing poetry in the dim light of your fridge at three AM, Dasom had a big passion for fashion and would always play dress up with you during your childhood days. 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

A trail of water followed from the bathroom to the bedroom and stopped below your feet. You stood with a towel wrapped around your bare body as you watched Dasom finalizing your outfit. The clothes on your bed were a baggy gray sweatshirt with bold letters spelling out ‘TORONTO’ — borrowed from Keeho and never returned — and a pair of blue jeans. It didn’t give too much, but was still appropriate for where you were going.

“Okay, go put it on. Have you figured out a way to get there?”

Shimmying on the clothes you heaved out a breath. “Nope.”

“Want me to call Kyo?”

“It’s a Friday so I’m sure he’s pre-gaming with Jiung and the others.”

“That’s true… I mean I could always give you a ride on my bike?”

You laughed at that. The bike in question was bright purple, almost lilac-ish with shimmering tinsel handels and star shaped wheel clips. It was cute, but embarrassing at the same time. Plus it would be a shit-show, you sitting on the carrier holding on for dear life while Dasom would do her best not to run people over. She was not the most trusted driver, hence the lack of a driver’s license (that she’s tried for five times and failed every single one).

“As much as I love you, I’d rather be late than arrive on that oddity and risk a broken arm or leg.”

“Hmpf, well if you don’t appreciate Melody then you can walk there!” She crossed her arms and pouted, her lower lip jutting in a show of feigned hurt.

“I don’t really mean it, Dae-Dae, I love youuuuu! I’ll come back with something nice to make up for it.”

The sour golden retriever-looking girl immediately brightened at the mention of a treat and wrapped her arms around you, her chin digging above your sternum. 

“Can you buy those shrimp chips that I like?” 

“Deal! I seriously gotta go now, I’ll text you when I get there. Kisses and hugs and all that bullshit!”

For once you were grateful not having a car as the parking lot was packed with them and other vehicles. It must have been a big deal if some people just blatantly abandoned their cars on the sidewalk, yellow tickets flapping on their windshields. The match was in full swing and it was everything you could expect of a hockey game. Red and blue blurs of jerseys zoomed past you, the sound of blades against ice, the livid roar of the crowd, cutting blows of a whistle, sticks cracking against the puck sounding like thunder and the thump as an opponent was checked against the boards. Seeing the bleachers full of people wasn’t something you expected when you crossed the entrance. The sides were divided into two parts — red and blue — and while you weren’t about to backstab your own university by sitting with the ‘enemy’ you found no empty seats between the Blue Wolf supporters. The other side wasn’t anything better except for the few vacant seats here and there, and more nude chests and faces covered in paint. 

This was everything but your scenery. 

Staring through the plexiglas you tried spotting the familiar mop of black and white hair you hadn’t seen since God knows when. You gave up as you quickly realized the gear covered almost the entirety of their faces and body proportions, making everyone look identical to one another, the only thing differentiating them being the numbers and colors of their jerseys that did little to help as you didn’t even know his. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and you jumped at the unexpected touch, hastily turning to see who the culprit was and coming face to face with a grinning Hyunjin.

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

His beautiful laugh reached your ears and emitted a chuckle of your own. He coaxed you into his body and enfolded you in a warm embrace that you reciprocated, chin on his shoulder and arms going around his waist. It was first when the hug broke that you could finally take in his full appearance. His whole attire — suit pants, a tucked in turtleneck and leather boots — were completely black except for the long and expensive-looking jean coat and red beanie showing support for the opposing team.

“Let’s go, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Without missing a beat he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers as he gently maneuvered you through the crowd. Every few seconds you flinched as the people jumped up from their seats, cheering or groaning at what was happening down below.

From across the rink in the bench area adjacent to the ice, the red and blue players filled the booths closest to their goalkeepers. The game was in full swing with both teams scoring a point each and neither willing to let up on their explosive paces. The substitute players were all buzzing from excitement or nerves — probably a combination of both — as they shouted encouraging words to the starting lineup. Like the remaining defencemen of the blue team, Mingi sat in the middle with his hockey stick high up in the air and shoulders squishing against his fellow position players, but his eyes weren’t trained on the puck flying from one player to another. No, they were set on the pair of figure skaters on the other side of the rink. More precisely, he was focused on their interlocked hands and the subtle exchange of smiles.

A red light and the loud blaring of the goal horn went off in the arena as the opposing team managed to hurl the puck behind the blue goalkeeper and Mingi could argue it was how he felt on the inside seeing you together. The big crowd jumped from their seats, waving their red merch and screaming words Mingi couldn’t hear over the angry voice of his coach.

“Matthew, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Wow… This is really annoying. We’re only ten minutes into the first period and we’ve already received two points,” Jungkook fumed.

It was weird that neither Mingi or Jungkook were a part of the starting lineup, considering they were up against one of the better teams of the season. Trusting that their coach was making the right decision of keeping them off the ice, Mingi didn’t try persuading him to be put in. There were still two and a half periods left of the game, leaving plenty of time for Mingi to change the course of the match if needed to. It also gave him more time to keep an eye on you and simmer in his own rage, if he just hadn’t lost you in the three seconds he looked away. Frantically searching the bleachers for a girl with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, you were nowhere to be seen.

“Song!”

The abrupt call of his name snapped him out of his search and he was met with the beetroot red face of his coach. 

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

“Then get off your ass, you’re going in.” As Mingi stood up, his coach threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. “Remember what we talked about. There are scouts watching and they’ve heard great things about this Song Mingi, so show them you’re not all talk, yeah?”

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

Coach patted him encouragingly and gave one last pat on his helmet for luck.

“Good, get in there and put a stop to their number three.”  

Everything turned to background noise as Mingi leaped over the board and his blades slashed against the cool surface. There was only him and his defending zone, and the fact that you were somewhere in the crowd, probably watching him or getting cozy with that stupid figure skater. The grip around his hockey stick tightened at the image and he hated the effect you still had on him. He should’ve been worrying about being on top of his game and impressing the scouts, and not what you were up to.

Mingi and Matthew held the blue line and passed the puck between each other as the remaining blue players skated around in the offensive zone, searching for an opening to get the puck handed to them. As Mingi slid the puck to Matthew, the bigger defender quickly hurled it to the next player only for the pass to be cut off. 

Going backwards, Mingi immediately retreated home while putting pressure on the puck carrier and simultaneously keeping him from having a clear view of the net. He skillfully managed to push the opposing player (without physical contact) to the side in the defensive zone. He quickly realized that he was closed off and sent the puck diagonally backwards to another red player who moved with such speed, Mingi knew he wouldn't be able to stop the additional player in time. Protests erupted from the bench as all fourteen substitute players had a hunch of what was going to happen.

To his aid came Matthew and the two defensemen managed to shut down a possible counterattack. As the remaining players entered the defending zone, the puck was still in the possession of the red team. It landed in the hold of their number three, who was a few diagonal meters from Mingi. The winger locked gazes with the blue defender and sent him a smug smirk, tauntingly saying ‘watch this’ as he winded his hockey stick up to his shoulder and readied himself for a slapshot.

Losing all control of his body, Mingi changed the trajectory of his movements and skated almost backwards while getting in number three’s sight of line. Mingi waited for the perfect timing and when the red player rushed forward to skate past him, Mingi jutted out his hip, flipping the opponent over him and stealing the puck in the process. Cheers erupted in the arena and Mingi soared at the jumbled praises and roars of encouragement.

“This is Felix and that’s Changbin, they attend TOP University. Lix-ie, Bin-ie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Hyunjin introduced you as the crowd calmed down.

The two guys weren’t dressed in anything over the top, basic hoodies and joggers or a pair of jeans with small accessories showing their support for the Red Tigers which made you feel out of place with Keeho’s blue scarf wrapped around your neck. You recognized one of them as the guy who hosted that halloween party; buffy build, a triangle shaped head, but kind features.  

“Hey.” 

The deep voice that greeted you didn’t match the sunshine-face of the other boy beside Changbin. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose and cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he offered you a sun-like smile that matched the color of his hair.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you gently said and sat in the spot beside the sunshine-boy.

“It’s great to finally see the girl this one’s been obsessing about,” Changbin butted in with a teasing grin and earned himself a slap on the thigh by Felix.

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I know banter when I hear it,” you smiled reassuringly and looked at the game below. 

One would think that because ice was your dome, you’d easily understand other winter sports, but you were truly having trouble keeping up with whatever was going on in the newly polished rink. The puck was traveling a hundred miles an hour and the skaters were freakishly fast, you could barely keep up with who was attacking and who was defending. It seemed like the moment one team scored, the other was immediately taking back a point. On top of all, you had zero knowledge about the rules. To say you were surprised when a — what looked to be dangerous and illegal — tackle occurred, would be an understatement. You expected at least someone to jump out of sheer anger, but no one batted an eye. They just kept watching and the players resumed as if it were the most normal thing of the day.

“Do you want to die?” Chan growled as he bumped shoulders with Mingi, getting all up in the defenseman’s face.

The chants of the Blue Wolves’ fans sent another surge of adrenaline through Mingi’s veins, not that he needed it, but gave him an ego boost to return the cockiness to the max.

“I should be asking you that. Don’t think you can get past us just like that. I’ll shut you down, Chan-hyung.”

In any other circumstance and in a conversation with quite literally anyone else, the use of honorific wouldn’t have been out of place, but hearing it come from Mingi wasn’t an indication of respect. It was a ploy to humiliate him and a way to set the tone of the game. In other words, telling him not to expect an easy win. Chan didn’t think anything less.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Mingi scoffed, a smirk of triumph playing across his lips. “I already did and guess what, hyung. I’ll do it again and again, and again. You will not get past me. I’ll knock you down until your ass makes a dent on the ice.”

Returning the ever-so-kind favor of butting shoulders, Mingi pushed past him and stopped right behind his center, ready to receive the puck or defend if the odds played out in the red team’s favor.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the preliminaries,” Felix smiled empathically and placed a hand on your shoulder for support. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were perfect and deserved to win.” 

You forced a smile at the reminder of the event. The wound was still fresh and even though Felix didn’t have any ill intentions with bringing it up, it still didn’t spare you from the bitter taste of winning — if it could even be considered a victory — second place.

“Thank you, but the jury is rarely ever wrong.”

“Tell me about it,” he started and focused momentarily on the game again. “It still doesn’t change my opinion on who should’ve won though.”

Before you could thank him again and express your gratitude to his kindness, Hyunjin joined the conversation. “Oh, I see you’ve found yourself a new figure skating partner.” 

Glancing from Felix to Hyunjin and back to Felix again, you pointed at the freckled boy. “You’re a figure skater too?”

“Yup, I've been training with Jin-ie since elementary school. A tick would be easier to shake off than him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, everyone practically begged you to sit beside them but no, little Lixie the new student decided it would be best to annoy Hyunjin-ie in the back.” 

With a witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue, Felix parted his lips, but was interrupted by Changbin abruptly standing up, hands clasped around his mouth and shouting, “Come on Chan! Don’t let him get away with that!”

Glancing down at the rink, you noticed number three in the red team was pushed against the border with a blue guy towering over him. Both guys seemed to be communicating through their eyes and if it weren’t for their teammates getting in between, you were sure a full on fist fight would’ve taken place in front of everyone.

“You’d think Chan was his boyfriend and not mine,” Felix said to you — more so screamed over the loud cheers and hollers of distress — and watched an agitated Changbin slump back down in his seat, eyes following the flying puck kissing the net of the red goalkeeper.

“Boyfriend?” 

“Ah, right, of course Hyunjin wouldn’t talk about his friends. Anyways I’m dating number three in the red team, maybe you’ve heard of him. Bang Chan or Christopher, whatever seems fitting.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ as the puzzle pieces clasped together. Felix never stopped smiling and even chuckled at your reaction. He found you endearing and understood why Hyunjin wouldn’t stop talking about you during their study sessions. 

“I take it, you know him?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say I know him but we had a brief encounter at a halloween party.”

“Ah, that’s cool. The world is really small, isn’t it?”

The buzzer beat you to an answer, indicating that the twenty minutes of the second period were out. 

“Oh, and that’s halftime,” Felix said and stood up to stretch. 

Changbin shot him a deadly stare, as if the figure skater cursed out his entire family. “You know it’s not called that. It’s an intermission!”

“Eh, we don’t keep up with all that in Australia. Halftime is halftime in whatever sport you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were Australian,” you admitted.

“What, really?” He said in English and then switched back to Korean. “All the people I meet point out I speak with an accent so I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve said it I can actually hear like the faintest accent. Oh, that’s embarrassing of me.” You sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of your head.

“Nah, not really. Anyway, Bin-ie and I are gonna get some snacks, you guys want anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

Felix threw you a thumbs up and looked at Hyunjin for his reply.

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

“Gotcha! We’ll be back like a lil’ before they start if we don’t get held up by the bathrooms. Changbin sure does love to take his time there.”

As the duo followed the crowd out, you and Hyunjin fell into a comfortable silence and listened to the chatter of the people around you. For being your first time at a hockey game, you weren’t bored at all, despite being oblivious to the set of rules. Keeho did say something about fights being legal and you sincerely hoped to avoid that. The sport on ice you were aware of was so less violent, flashy and fast paced. It was so different from your figure skating which was more or less art or a story being conveyed by body language. 

Nonetheless, you were still having a good time, even though much of it was spent getting acquainted with Hyunjin’s friends.

“So… what do you think of the game so far?”

Snapping from the ice taken over by a bunch of kids chasing each other and falling on their rears, you hummed and looked back at Hyunjin who already had his eyes on you.

“It’s interesting. I mean, it’s nothing like figure skating, obviously, but it’s cool… Do you guys always do this? Watch hockey?”

“Mmm, not always, but whenever Chan has a game we try to show our support just like he does whenever Lix or I have anything going on with our figure skating.”

“That’s sweet of you. That’s actually really cute,” you gushed and the thought reminded you of your own friend group. How Keeho and Dasom showed up at your competitions or the many times you and Keeho attended Dasom’s poetry slam.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, a playful smile across his features. “I don’t like being called cute, but considering it’s coming from you I’ll let it slide.”

Taken back by the almost flirtatious side of Hyunjin, you bashfully looked away and cheekily covered your mouth, hiding the way your smile expanded at his comment. Hyunjin, attentive as always, took notice of the action and chuckled.

“How, uhm…” 

You leaned back in your seat and braided your fingers together as the change of topic went from cheerful to sullen.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of those two, but yeah… How you holding up?”

Still trying to hold up your happy expression, you faced him and tilted your head, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back from planting a kiss on your cute nose. 

“I’ve been alright. There’s not much I can do to be honest and I don’t want to dwell on it more than necessary, you know?”

“That’s understandable. Why think about the things that make you feel bad?”

“Exactly. I’ve decided to focus on the more happier things in life.” You grimaced as a hockey player tripped and smacked head first into the plastic glass. “Even if that is watching people get concussions for just 13.000 won.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, elegantly covering his mouth with the back of his hand and tipping his head backwards. A laugh of your own lingered with his and the multiple cheers in the air. 

“Three for three, Jeon Jungkook does it again! The nimble winger of the Blue Wolves can’t be stopped!” 

The announcement sounded through the arena a few seconds after the red lights flashed behind the Tiger’s goal and buzzer erupted, nearly rupturing your eardrums. Jungkook was really on a blast tonight, you thought as you followed his retreating figure, making a mental note of remembering his jersey number. Although you had yet to find Mingi, you felt proud for at least figuring out Jungkook and Chan, completely dismissing the fact that you barely knew a handful of players on the ice.

“You’re doing great out there, Kookie.” Mingi dunked him on the back as they retreated to the neutral zone. “Make that into five out of five and I’ll treat you to some lamb skewers.”

The smirk stretched across Jungkook’s face could only be described as menacingly and with  him in his element, Mingi knew they weren’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Add steamed dumplings into the mix and I’ll double it.”

As the referee held the puck in the air between the red and blue centers, the rest of the players prepared themselves for another brawl over who put the puck behind the opposing net. Mingi was warm all over, and the extra weight of pads and equipment was taking a toll on his body, as well as defending his home base, but each time a player was stopped, the pride was enough to resurrect his energy. Glancing slightly to the side, everything moved in slow motion as he briefly made eye contact with the supporters of both teams. Some were screaming at him out of happiness and others with harmless distaste, angry at his ability to shut down the reds’ plays and advances. Moving further up the rows, it was like a headlight lit up a spot in the crowd, and suddenly, amongst the hundreds of people, he could make you out like a tulip in the middle of a meadow.

The hold around his stick tightened seeing you squished between pretty boy and an unrecognizable face, and Mingi promised he didn’t care. He didn’t care as pretty boy whispered something in your ear and he definitely didn’t care as you flung your head backward, and let out what probably was the most angelic laughter known to heaven. Smoke erupted from his nostrils and the moment the puck was in possession of the red team, the vibrant colored jerseys irked him like a matador irritatnig a bull. As the puck was in play, all sound ceased to exist and Mingi zeroed in on the players advancing forward. 

Mingi would describe it as being underwater with all the noise distant and his movement sluggish no matter how hard he tried to lift his limbs, and if  he wasn’t so aware of his surroundings, Mingi would certainly think he was losing one of his five senses. 

See, although ice hockey was a sport all about seeing and physical contact, hearing was an important part too and if Mingi wasn’t revolted by your presence, he wouldn’t have missed the referee signaling an offside, and he wouldn’t have skated into the first player daring to cross the blue line that separated the defending and neutral zone.

The referee immediately blew his whistle and fully extended his right arm, fist clenched and eyes set on the defenseman, and time turned back to normal as a pop-like sound burst in Mingi’s ears. He barely managed to realize what happened when another body collided against his, pushing him straight into the boards. Chaos ensued as multiple players got involved trying to ease the situation, but the damage was already done and Mingi was sent to the penalty box — purposely avoiding the heavy gazes of the blue bench — along with whichever guy flew into him.

He cursed out loud as he slumped down on the bench. This was embarrassing on so many levels. It was one thing to ram into someone as payback, but lashing out for no apparent reason and after the whistle was (almost) unacceptable. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity; so much for not caring. 

“What happened?” You asked no one in particular, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Ah, that Song Mingi, always up to no good,” Changbin grumbled, more so to himself than you. 

You snapped your eyes to the plastic enclosure the blue player was sent off to and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. Through the year you had known Mingi, you’d never guess he could really use his size and strength to quite literally floor another person. Hockey was a rough sport, that wasn’t news to you, and considering Mingi could use his strength to his advantage, it was probably why he was so sought after. You couldn’t shake away this feeling of awareness. Just now realizing how… big Mingi actually was and you didn't know whether it was relief or pride, knowing that of all the times you pushed him over the edge, never once did he raise a finger at you out of anger or spite. 

Mingi may have been an asshole with 70% height and muscle, but he wasn’t a bad guy. 

“That’s called roughing,” Felix started explaining. “It’s like… I wouldn’t say it’s an illegal move, but if done out of motive or in a way to really hurt the other player, it could lead to a minor penalty — a timeout — or game misconduct. But it all depends on how bad the situation is.”

“So he won’t play until the end of the game?”

“Nah, he’ll probably be out in like a few minutes,” Hyunjin answered for you and clapped as the red team scored, evening out the score board to five-five.

“Then the blue team will be a player short up until then?.”

“Pretty much,” Felix confirmed and popped a chip in his mouth.

You didn’t see how that could be fair, but then again, ice hockey wasn’t your forthe and as no one in the crowd was making a fuss over Mingi’s penalty — except for pointing out his poor judgment — you didn’t say much else, but hum in agreement. For twelve minutes, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening on the ice, only applauding when the crowd did and slumped back in your seat as the supporters groaned in disappointment. Your full attention was set on the lone player in the plastic box. 

Worry, confusion and pity circled your mind and you wondered if this was how everyone felt seeing the placement of your figure skating competition. As soon as the thought made home in your head, you shooed it away, reminding yourself to focus on the happy things and not everything that was blue. 

Forcing your eyes from Mingi, the most blue thing in the arena (both clothing and emotion wise) you zoned out and the players blurred into small vivid spots twirling on the ice like flies above a bowl of fruit. You didn’t understand where the worry came from or why it decided to take shelter in your stomach. It probably wasn’t Mingi’s first rodeo in the penalty box and wouldn’t be the last on either, and you recognized his sudden outburst as the one you saw a glimpse of at the party, right before you left him with that blonde police officer. 

Mingi never lashed out in anger and if he did, you were never on the receiving end of it despite giving him back a tenfold of insults he greeted you with. Seeing him quite literally floor a guy his size, made your guts twist in discomfort. It was an emotion that didn’t look good on him at all. 

The game was growing more intense with each minute passing and the atmosphere amongst the audience was also getting rowdier as the teams were practically neck and neck, neither willing to let up. The second Mingi stepped foot on the ice again, the whole arena blew up with cheers. It was like the almost extinguished torch of hope re-awakened into a bright and lively fire, and you too held onto the light of hope that the Blue Wolves would take it home, definitely because of your loyalty to Tiny University and not the growing affection for a certain defender in said school. 

The puck was flying from one side of the rink to the other in just a matter of seconds with all players, excluding the goalkeepers, circling around and cashing the rubber like stone. 

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

You didn’t know how you missed the big sign leaning against Felix’s legs, but you did. With a nod of agreement, you both took hold of each side of the white cardboard cutout and quickly looked at the glittery blue writing on it. 

I am Chan’s #1 fan. 

“Don’t judge, I made it like last second.” A blush kissed his cheeks and his eyes squeezed into crescent moons as you read the corny line.

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

With ten seconds left of the game everyone in the arena stood up which made you and Felix raise the sign even higher. When everyone thought the game would end in a tie, a player from the defending line of the blue team somehow managed to steal the puck from two red players and sent it hurling across the rink, right in the sanctuary of his teammate’s stick who calculatedly launched it towards the red goal and past its keeper. The buzzer went off and chaos ensued. From what you could see all the Blue Wolves players crowded the scorer and dunked the defender who sent the winning assist, while the fans raised the volume through the roof. Whistling, cheers, laughter, even some old fashion booing circulated the arena.

Not all that upset with the outcome of the game, Felix applauded and turned to his friend who seemed to be quite butthurt. “Song really is crazy good, isn’t he Bin-ie?”

“Whatever, he’s lucky Jake sprained his ankle and couldn’t play today or he’d have them all eating ice. Ha! Get it, cause they’re playing on i–”

The rest of the conversation was tuned out as you focused on the celebrating team, trying to catch sight of eighty-nine. Your eyes traveled from one bulky player to another and then, as if your prayers were answered, the player came right into view. 

Mingi walked beside a shorter guy clad in blue and you assumed it was Chan by the sole way he pointed up at you and the other guys. Your suspicion was confirmed as the helmet was removed and Chan’s face was illuminated by the strong lights. You could just make out the faint movement of his mouth, saying something to the giant beside him. 

“Good to know your girl is cheering for the right team, Mings.”

Mingi followed the invisible line leading to where you stood and scanned the group of friends. He immediately recognized Hyunjin and the buff one, and he didn’t even manage to take a proper look at the third boy as his eyes found yours. Beautiful as ever, he thought and admired as much of you as possible. Your face, clothes, make-up and everything about you was perfect, and the passive aggressive comment was almost brushed to the side until he zeroed in on the paper in your hands. It was in that moment that the rose-tinted glasses slipped down his nose, jealousy quick to seep into every corner of his existence and he remembered why he’d been avoiding you for weeks.

Before he could send you a sharp (and unjustified) glare, he redirected his anger to the guy beside him. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. She was the one to look at me first.

Mingi wasn’t a violent person, he really wasn’t, but there was no acceptable excuse for why he did what he did. 

As if born ready for this day, Mingi used his teeth to tear off his gloves and pounced on Chan. One hand grabbed around the collar of his red jersey as the other was colliding with his cheek. He managed to get in two more punches — the first successfully collided with Chan’s jaw and the second just barely missed the bone of his nose — before Chan used his own limbs to defend himself. The red winger grabbed hold of Mingi’s helmet and snatched it off his head, and seized the chance to send a fist flying in his face, returning the punches he received from the blue defender. Red bruises quickly littered across their knuckles and warm blood covered their skin, the thick liquid pouring from both Chan’s nose and Mingi’s lip.

The crowd was going wild, the whistles of the referees were being ignored and it didn’t take long before the remaining players of each team were trying to separate the two brutes. 

“Oh my God!” 

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp. 

“He’s fucking crazy. Hey! What the hell?!” Changbin jumped between the seats and rocketed down towards the ice with the rest of you hot on his heels.

The silence was deafening. Everyone was curious as to what was going on and why a fight ensued now that the game was over, usually the nose breaking happened on ice and not off. Whispers and rumors spread like a wildfire, some claimed it was the aftermath of adrenaline while others thought of something more extreme like hard drugs taking over. Nonetheless, the crowd riled them on, clearly finding joy in the brawl. You weren’t anywhere near when the referees and teammates broke them up, Mingi being forcefully sent towards the locker room as Chan stayed laying on the ground, crimson face and teeth no longer pearly white.

“What the hell, Mingi,” you muttered under your breath and slipped through the mass of people, running to where you assumed he’d be. 

Your head was working a hundred miles an hour with the images of Mingi hunched over Chan, fists violently beating the blonde and a lot of blood covering his face. You were sure you’d never get them out of your head and you shuddered at the amount of red that ran down Chan’s nose. For the sake of the giant asshole you grew attached to, you hoped it wouldn’t put a stop to his career, both school- and sportwise. It would by far be his dumbest decision yet. For what even?

A group of reporters stood outside a door you assumed was reserved for the Blue Wolves and if that wasn’t enough of a give away then it was the loud cheers and victory singing echoing out to the hallway. In reality you wanted nothing more than to barge inside and interrupt their celebration — how they could celebrate after that bloodbath was still something you couldn’t wrap your head around — but you did no such thing. The moment the door opened you pushed the reporters aside and flew in with your head first, paying no mind to the perverse wolf whistles and cheers of the adrenaline drunken boys. You didn’t even bother with them as your eyes scanned the room that smelled of sweat and axe deodorant for him. Jungkook, seemingly the most normal one there (which spoke volumes), quickly understood why you were there and approached you with no teasing glint or malice in his gaze.

“Try looking by the abandoned gym on the ground floor. There’s a vending machine there we usually go to so I assume if he’s taken off somewhere it should be there.” 

You wasted no time in turning on your heel and practically sprinting down the route you repeated like a mantra. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine.

Lo and behold, he was right there and if it weren’t for the worry growing in your belly you’d go back upstairs and reward the playboy with a big smooch to his rosy lips. 

Mingi sat down on the floor, legs up to his chest and forearms folded on his knees. His sweaty forehead was leaning against the skin of his arm and an anxious rhythm of his heart beat in his chest. It was hard to miss the red on his knuckles. Inhaling a shaky breath as if it would steady your own heart, your feet stopped before him falling right in his line of sight. Surprised at the unexpected company, Mingi looked up and got a first row ticket of the concern swimming in your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect going after him, but the annoyed — almost disgusted — scoff he let out cut through you like a knife and twisted as he looked back down. Despite the act of annoyance aimed at you, Mingi wasn’t actually that annoyed with you but rather with himself because after everything he still had the urge to reach for your touch and he hated it. His jaw clenched at the circumstance and his nails dug in the palms of his hands. You weren’t even supposed to be here, it made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been.

Having had enough of his pity party Mingi and the weight of your gaze judging him, he pushed up from his position and walked right past you. No hello, no second glances, just walking as if you were a ghost he couldn’t see let alone feel. His movements halted when you latched onto one of his wrists, knowing that if he truly wanted to get away he’d shake you off like a ragdoll and be on his merry way. Although he was with his back facing you, the fact that he stood  rooted to the ground was the approval you seeked to continue with your winged attempt at getting him to speak.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” 

The two of you weren’t heavy on the use of honorifics, but hearing you spit his name out like that surely sent a shiver down his spine. You weren’t pissed off, he noticed, you were actually worried and it was quite amusing. The nerve you had of showing up after that fiasco to interrogate him about his actions. Who the hell did you think you were?

“Huh? Why did you do that?” Shaking his arm, you tried again. “Can you please say something? I’m worried for you and your silence isn’t helping, please just say something.”

Mingi didn’t budge and you were starting to lose it. The avoidance wasn't enough, now he was blatantly ignoring your attempt at helping too.

“What is your problem?! I’m trying to help you, something’s obviously happened so why won’t you tell me!”

Ripping his wrist out of your hold, he turned around and it took every particle in you not to cower at his sharp eyes staring you down. 

“You want to know what my problem is?” His loud voice bounced off the walls and punched you right in the gut. 

There was so much anger in his gaze, his tone and his body. Everything screamed of anger and you didn’t even know why you were on the receiving end of his emotions. You were just trying to help.

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the red color of Dasom’s hair. He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn with remorse.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off. 

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking for me, you hear? I’m fucking done!” 

You shrunk back at his unwavering and stern voice. Having nothing more to say Mingi stormed away, blood boiling and hands shaking as the final words set in. The last you saw of him before gut-wrenching sobs wrecked your body was the door slamming up against the wall and back the doorframe so hard the walls vibrated. And later that same night when Mingi got home, he wouldn’t even be surprised if you decided to never look at him again, let alone speak with him. 

Different emotions tore you apart and it was hard to make sense of anything that happened in the past ten minutes. The questions — what, why, how — were endless and you wanted to go home, preferably dig a hole in your bed and not come out until better days, whenever that would be you didn’t know. Tears burned your cheeks like lava and snot tickled your nose, dropping off your chin and onto your shirt. With the already wet sleeve of your sweater you wiped everything off your face, not in the right mind to care about what Keeho would say about his precious shirt. Like a baby cub seeking its momma bear for comfort, you retreated home yearning for the closest touch of a mother you could find.

“You have reached the voicemail of Choi Dasom. Please leave a message after the beep.”

After the fifth attempted call, you gave up and continued trudging home. Dark clouds hovered over Seoul and the light pelts of rain quickly became a downpour. Being picked up on Dasom’s bike didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Unlocking the front door of your shared apartment you were greeted with Hongjoong and Dasom sitting awfully close on the couch. They jumped apart as you harshly dropped the keys in the fruit bowl and froze at the sight of you; bawling, wet and shivering. Skipping the formalities you wasted no time diving in the shower and by the time you ventured back out, Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen as if the boy was never there to begin with and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You’ve had enough boys for the next ten years of your life.

“Beans?” 

It was probably the dumbest thing to cry about, but your lips still quivered and the tears you just managed to stop surfaced at the nickname. The girl caught you in her arms and you buried your head in her shoulder as your cries got louder. Dasom offered you solace with gentle rubs to your back and patiently waited until your labored breathing became even. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered and slowly guided you to your bedroom. 

Attentive as always she helped you get under the covers and shuffled in beside you to which you immediately buried your face in her bosom, her hand slank under your neck and connected with the other at the back of your head. You lay there in each other’s presence and listened to the coexisting beat of your hearts. Dasom didn’t try coaxing the troubles out of you and you heaved out a big breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at the constant tears and after waking up from passing out of exhaustion, you knew you’d be a victim of an unbearable headache and heavy feet. The whisper of your name was loud in the silent room and you hummed in reply, letting the other girl know you were in fact awake.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The most obvious thing would be to talk about it; talk about why you burst through the door, face wet and not entirely because of the rain. Your mom always told you to never sleep with an empty stomach, a busy mind or a heavy heart and while you didn’t appreciate the advice at the minute, future-you would (hopefully) think back to this moment and thank you for your courage. Dasom followed in tow as you sat up criss-crossed, taking your hands in hers and giving them comforting squeezes every once in a while. By the time she was pulled through the story of your evening — meeting Changbin and Felix, having a good time with Hyunjin, to seeing Mingi beat the living shit out of Chan and then him lashing out on you — the clock struck somewhere between two and three in the morning, courtesy of a few short crying breaks in between. Glancing up at your friend who was still digesting the events, you felt lighter at the thought of having your very own sun sharing warmth and hope wherever she went.

“He likes you,” she eventually said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose again, hands falling to play with the bedsheet. 

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know who I’m talking about?”

You thought you ran out of tears hours ago but were proven wrong as a new batch stung your eyes and eventually trickled down your sore cheeks. Dasom pulled you in another soul crushing hug and held the back of your head, nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Why are you crying, bean?”

Through tears and her thick cardigan you replied. “Because we aren’t talking about Hyunjin, are we? He’s the one we should be talking about.”

“But we aren’t and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It felt wrong crying over someone who held no significance in your life just a few months ago. The same guy who riled you up like it was his daily dose of sunshine and who set it as his life mission to have you curse him out. The guy who called you stupidly cute nicknames and walked you home at night, offering up his jacket to keep you warm and safe from colds. The guy who didn't turn up to your competition and then lived in your head like an annoying song playing on repeat refusing to disappear. The same guy who shook you to your core with his angry words and fiery gaze.

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?” 

Dasom wasn’t foolish. She knew what you were going through and could only hope you’d come to terms with the unknown feelings rather than to be the one revealing the reason behind your heartbreak. 

“Drawn to a guy who’s mean and an asshole when I have the perfect one right there, waiting and catering to my every need.”

“I know I’m supposed to hate him for the things he’s said to you and I do, I really do bean…. so if you think I won’t at least glare him down in the hallways then I’m revoking your position as my best friend… But I’m going to be completely honest with you, bean because that’s what you deserve. I think something else must have triggered him to lash out, it couldn’t just have been because you were simply sitting beside Hyunjin.”

She gently played with your hair as the words sank in.

“He really hurt me.”

“I know, bubs and I’m so sorry. Know that nothing excuses that behavior.”

“Then why do I still think of him even when he’s shit. Why won’t my brain let me be happy with Hyunjin?” You broke from the huge and fell back on the bed, hands gripping the sheets as if they held all the answers to your questions. 

“Hyunjin is safe. We all like the safe and predictable, right?” 

Your nod of agreement spurred her on. 

“But Mingi, oh Mingi, is exciting. He drives you crazy, keeps you on your toes and throws you off course yet you can’t ever really get enough of him no matter how much it annoys you. I see it and I’ve been seeing it for months now and I promise this is the most objective version of me speaking right now.”

“But I like Hyunjin,” you whined, refusing to accept your own feelings.

“And you like me and Kyo too,” Dasom whispered softly, like a breeze passing through a field. “But we don’t fall in Mingi’s category.”

The days leading up to the holidays were spent within the four walls of your room waiting for the time to pass until you’d take your suitcase and haul ass across the country, definitely not because you were afraid to stumble across the very person you were avoiding. After the not so pleasant discovery you didn’t know what to make of yourself or your feelings. You couldn’t just phone him and proclaim your undying love because last time you checked, he explicitly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you. You from a few months ago would throw a party big enough to think it was for a quinceañera or a sweet sixteen celebration with this information, but the present-you acted like Bella Swan during the disappearance of Edward Cullen just a tad bit less depressing.

Dasom was the first to leave. Her parents surprised her with a vacation to Jeju-island and her flight left the first morning of winter break. Keeho was still in the city but with college out of the way, he took on more working hours than usual. His immediate family lived in Canada and the plane ticket would be more expensive than the salary he’d get over the next two weeks. With your two friends unavailable you passed time thinking about the one who shall not be named and realized how unfortunate the whole situation was. You also realized you probably wouldn’t act upon your feelings as you didn’t with Hyunjin and would just let them flow until evaporating into thin air. 

Speaking of Hyunjin, you and him still texted back and forth albeit the conversations were slow and not nearly as exciting as you once found them to be. Your sudden disappearance at the hockey game was covered with a quick lie of ‘not feeling well’, which he immediately believed because, why wouldn’t he? Christmas wasn't anything special. It started with an early message of Hyunjin wishing you a Merry Christmas attached with a selfie of him in a Santa hat and fake beard, and the rest of the day was spent inside with your family watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. 

The new year was welcomed on the couch where a bump would sooner or later be formed and that alone was enough to explain the excitement level in the household. You all went to sleep a little after midnight and as you laid in your childhood bedroom, feet almost sticking out of the small bed, you mindlessly scrolled down the explore section of Instagram. A pang of sadness struck you at the picture staring back at you through the screen. It was a post of Mingi and his friend — the golden retriever looking one — posing on a snowy mountain both clad in skiing gear. The taller of the two had an arm slung over Mingi’s shoulder who, in return, sported a boyish grin and held up a peace sign. The split lip had healed perfectly and the only indicator of him being in a fight was the slight plum colored mark under his eye (courtesy of a nice punch delivered to his nose). At least someone was happy with you out of their lives. 

Angry, sad and just tired, you exited the app and shoved your phone under the pillow drowning out your scream. You didn’t even know why his post landed on your feed. Wasn’t the explore page supposed to show videos of millennials doing cringy trends and not the most recent activity of the dude that shit all over you.

This continued on for days. While you were decomposing in your room he was updating his Instagram account as if a celebrity. Pictures and videos of him clubbing until the early hours of the morning, pretty girls and tables full of alcohol captured in short stories and then a complete 180; sharing clips of him flying down snowy mountains, doing stunts and whatnot.

If he was so upset with you, why were you the one wasting days self wallowing? It wasn’t like you could party away the worry. Your hometown was the size of a nut meaning A) you knew everyone and their mother, and B) every person in a ten mile radius was well-over the age of forty and the closest thing that came as a party would be the retirement home down the street. Then again, playing bingo with the grannies was better than binge watching gut-wrenching dramas. At least you’d be clearing your ‘to watch-list’.

The weeks passed in a blur and, before you knew it, you were back in the comfort of your apartment with two days to spare until classes started rolling again. Dasom would be home the day after and Keeho was either passed out in his apartment or working his second shift of the day, leaving you to unpack the chaos sealed inside your suitcase. Swirls of snow beat violently against the windows, turning the outside world into a winter wonderland. The heavy weather picked up on your journey home and as you traveled halfway back to Seoul, the ground was slowly being covered in white flakes. You only got so far with your unpacking when a series of knocks rattled against the front door. 

“What’s uuuuup?!” Keeho screeched as you opened the door and an equally excited Dasom rolled in with her red large suitcase. 

“What are you doing here?!” 

They pulled you into a hug. Keeho’s loudness and Dasom’s giggles warmed up the place in no time and you immediately felt better.

“Surprise!”

“I hate you guys!” You exclaimed and squeezed their waists, head resting on Keeho’s shoulder with Dasom’s nose buried against your chest.

“Don’t lie, we know you love us. Now let’s get this bitch started!”

Scurrying to the kitchen Keeho brought back three animated cups; one with Naruto, Totoro and–

“You’re not drinking beer from the cup plastered with a picture of my dead cat!”

“Of course not, that one’s yours. Mine’s the Naruto one and Dasom gets Totoro, for obvious reasons.”

Said girl skipped quickly to the pantry and pulled out multiple bags of snacks. The huge smile on her face got you all curious.

“What’s got you all happy?”

“Nothing, I've just missed you guys! Jeju was fun but it would’ve been better with you there,” she pouted and poured the snacks into separate bowls.

“Pfft, don’t listen to her. She’s been texting that Cruella de Vil boy all winter break.”

Her smile grew and grew until it was a full blown grin and you squealed in delight, genuinely happy for your friend despite the green monster gnawing at the back of your head. 

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The fun and what would be the start of a girls’ night was interrupted by Keeho. “I should be the one asking you that, little miss I’m in love with my greatest enemy.”

Gasping, you turned to Dasom. “You told him?!”

“So it’s true?!” 

He leaned towards you and nearly snickered as your hands covered your mouth — if it weren’t for the serious circumstance — and stared at him with wide eyes. You walked right into his trap and as you told him everything that happened — the good and the bad — Dasom threw her hand out, palm facing upward..

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

Dasom, a feral little chihuahua, jumped on him and a wrestling match took place in the middle of the living room. You couldn’t find it in you to be mad or upset. Leaning back against your arms, you watched them with a smile tugging at your lips. This is what you missed back in your childhood home. As much as you loved your family, the one you built in the heart of Seoul was very dear to you.

The ding of your phone snapped you out of your love-struck daze.

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] you back home yet?

You [07:16 PM] yeah, arrived a few hours ago

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] how was it?

You [07:17 PM] Good to see the family again but God did I miss my bed

You [07:17 PM] What were you up to?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] yeah no kiddin ik exactly what u mean

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] Nothing much, did a lot of practice on the choreo w Iseul

You [07:17 PM] Ohhhh how’s that coming along?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] it’s good but nowhere near perfect

You scoffed at the reply.

You [07:17 PM] I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time

Keeho harshly grabbed your shoulders, peering down at the screen but not comprehending any of the words.

“And who are you texting?” 

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin!” Dasom sang, already tipsy from the soju she downed while you were busy typing away.

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

Hyunjin [07:19 PM] wanna help me practice? 

Author's note pt.2: There's one thing I'd like to say regarding this chapter. When it comes to significant others, situation ships, partners, etc do not ever let anyone speak to you in a condescending matter. It doesn't matter how upset they are or what you've done for them to explode, you should never, and I really mean NEVER let anyone talk down to you. The only reason I didn't make MC obliterate Mingi is for the sake of the story, otherwise I'd have her drag him along the streets of Seoul like a dog, lmao. Anyway, if anyone speaks to you like Mingi did to MC in their fighting scene, please either leave/break up or put them in their place. You deserve to be treated with respect and love as much as anyone else.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[kyonshiweb]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ🌼♡︎ㅤnɘѡ ıcɵns ❜

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ@kyonshiweb ! 💭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

[feather-blades]

Dasom and Her Girlfriend For: Anon ~requests are open~

[liceekim]

🥥Summer or Summer 🌴

[kpopcolourboards]

sister + yellow

"summer always ends with good memories"

more colourful kpop moodboards

[ksmutty]

Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely nights dreaming of a song. The melody haunts my reverie and I am once again with you.

Stardust - Hoagy Carmichael (1927)

[sseraph]

❣️sistar moodboard❣️

[heizes]

Wlw Dasom mooboard

[unclassifiedsenpai]

Sistar in Game of Thrones Houses

Bora, the assassin of the Sand Sisters, bastard daughter from House Martell, Sunspear.

Hyolyn, the seductress and infiltrator of the Sand Sisters, bastard daughter from House Martell, Sunspear.

Soyou, the warrior of the Sand Sisters, bastard daughter from House Martell, Sunspear.

Dasom, the archer of the Sand Sisters, bastard daughter from House Martell, Sunspear. 

BTS in Game of Thrones

EXO in Game of Thrones

Got7 in Game of Thrones

MonstaX in Game of Thrones

[thesistars]

kim hyojung; girlfriend moodboard (day ver.) 1/?

[kpopfeeds]

Sistar’s Ideal Type

Hyorin: She likes a responsible man with a strong sense of livelihood. She had mentioned Kang Dong Won as her ideal type. 

Bora: Song Joong Ki. 

Soyou: Are Chanyeol & Baro 

Dasom: Is a manly man but the type of guy she tend to fall for is an innocent guy with little dancing experience. 

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 2 – The Autumn Within Me Is Grieving

⛸️ Summary: Attending the Halloween party wasn’t in your plans for the weekend, but neither was getting completely drunk and swayed by the sweet words of the man you despised the most. Being introduced to a laid-back version of you, Mingi couldn’t decide whether he missed your heated feuds or wanted more of the intimate conversations. It seemed heated discussions weren’t just a speciality between you two, but a reoccurring event between Dasom and Keeho who just couldn’t stop meddling with your love life.

⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment,hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst, fluff

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: Explicit language, alcohol consumption, petname (princess), a house party, making out, dirty thoughts, everyone is horny 😭, bang chan is a douche, brief mention of blood and a broken nose, a brief scene with vomiting, talks of sex jokingly, a whole lot of misunderstandings

⛸️ Wordcount: 12.6K

⛸️ Author's note: It wouldn't be a real fanfic without at least one house party scene. As promised, in this part our lovely main characters have more moments together 🤭 This one was fun to write as I got to experiment with different personalities and character perspectives. But I'm mostly excited for the third part, my personal favourite actually!!! Coincidentally it's also where shit hits the fan.

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs refrain from reading this work!

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You were certain Hyunjin was a prince in his previous life and if not a prince then a duke or a marquess. Everything about him screamed nobility, from his beauty to his chivalrous behavior. Even when sweaty and sporting plain black clothes, he looked majestic twirling on the ice. You, on the other hand, could undergo hours of training and still not achieve a speck of the stage presence and confidence he radiated. The probability of him finding you attractive was low and you weren’t about to entertain the idea of him having a massive crush on you. 

Like. Attractive. Crush. Hyunjin. Stupid. Like. Attractive. Crush. Hyunjin. Stupid. 

The endless words plagued your mind and the focus that was supposed to be on your skating went towards Keeho’s stupid theory instead, making your movements either too big or too small, sloppy or sharp, and just downright awful. A puff of frustration fused with the cold air. You couldn’t even do a simple jump without nearly falling to your knees. Hyunjin, who observed you from the sidelines, winced as the fierce choreography you were supposed to breathe life into was dull and far from lively. The corners of your mouth reached the pits of hell as you stopped before him. 

“Take a few minutes and collect yourself,” he offered with a small smile that would usually have you buzzing with joy. 

You had been at it for a little more than an hour and not much progress had been made since your practice with Mr. Jung. 

“If I may?” 

Facing each other with his hands hovering slightly over your hips, Hyunjin patiently waited for your consent, which you dumbfoundedly gave with a nod. His large yet slim hands gently grabbed at your clothed flesh.

“You’re stiff. Your hips need to go like this,” he explained and demonstrated.

The intimacy of the situation had you sweating through your clothes. One would think you were in a sauna and not a room operated by large underground refrigerators. Throughout your twenty-something years on earth, you had experienced a fair share of contact with the opposite gender, from your childhood days of pair skating to the overly supervised school dances. If that wasn’t enough, you were friends with Keeho, a man who couldn’t go a day without pinching your cheeks, patting the top of your head, or simply hooking his arm through yours. God help anyone initiating skinship with him, though.

But those boys — the nine-year-old who could barely guide little you through a twirl, your high school prom date who didn’t dare look anywhere below your collarbones during the slow dances and your best friend — weren’t Hyunjin.

Hyunjin, who stirred your insides until they were a big blob of goo and turned your bones — the thick and sturdy creamy white structure going through your body — into jelly barely holding you up. 

Hyunjin, who made you giggle like a high schooler, feet dangling in the air and pillow swallowing your girly shrieks was the same man who left you tongue tied and sent your brain into short circuiting.

Hyunjin who you admired deeply. 

The intoxicating yet innocent touch of his fingers ripped off like a bandaid and the bruising reality hit you with a smack. Although Hyunjin was a gentleman through and through, his reciprocation of your feelings weren’t in the definition of a gentleman listed in the national dictionary. The sooner you got that through your head, the less blue you’d be when he found someone better. The feathery feel of his palm pressed against your forehead pulled your eyes to his face and you saw the swirls of worry in his delicate gaze. 

“Are you alright?” 

“No,” would be the honest answer. How could you — or anyone, for that matter — be alright in his proximity? How could you be alright under his attentive eyes and soft spoken words that cast you under a spell of hopelessness?

“Yeh-yeah.” 

You stepped back and swallowed thickly, your dry throat begging for something to drink, preferably vodka or anything strong enough to keep your sanity intact. 

Another worrisome question rested on his tongue, but it wasn’t released with the puff of oxygen instead it got squished between his teeth and tightly shut lips. As much as Hyunjin wanted to ease you from whatever kept you on edge and probe into your weird behavior of short and gobbled sentences, he also didn’t want to pry into your private life. You weren’t that close after all. He settled with a solid nod and suggested the idea of grabbing lunch together, insisting a full belly was essential for an athlete’s journey to success, despite your moderately strict diets. It definitely wasn’t a ploy to spend more time with you. Definitely not. 

Eating a salad bowl in a little cafe with the prettiest boy on campus wasn’t brought up by the wrinkly tarot lady on your family vacation in Jeju Island five years ago. Not that it would stop your body from heating up like an oven, sending waves of warmth from your center to the tips of your fingers and toes. 

“So,” Hyunjin started and poked at the baby carrots in his bowl, pushing them away from the other vegetables and cube-sliced chicken pieces. “How long have you and Mingi been friends for?”

The piece of lettuce you nibbled on flew into your throat with a gasp as you snapped your head up, brows raised and mouth agape, staring into Hyunjin’s relaxed expression. 

“Friends?!”

Hyunjin was confused. He was certain you were friends; you were so lively around the hockey player — loose mouth and relaxed posture, not on edge like when Hyunjin was around — that it was only fair to assume so. You showed more personality in the presence of Mingi and to say it didn’t bother Hyunjin wouldn’t fit in with his angelic persona. 

“Are you not?” He stabbed a cherry tomato and plopped it in his mouth. Exhaling in relief and hoping you wouldn’t see a small smoke of white gas dissolve into the air like in the cartoons, he proceeded, “I assumed since you’re so… free around him? Although I shouldn’t be assuming things in the beginning, really.”

“Trust me, there’s nothing except a feud between us. The day Mingi and I become anything close to friends, know that the world is ending.”

There it was. The little bite you hid behind shy smiles and giggles only really came out around your friends — or whatever you deemed Mingi to be — and all Hyunjin knew was that he had yet to appear on that short list of yours. 

Personally, Hyunjin held no malice against anyone on or off campus but lately, Mingi was really getting on his nerves and it didn’t matter how he tried approaching the topic it all led back to you. There was something about seeing you so relaxed around Mingi that tugged at Hyunjin’s heart. It was a recurring feeling and the realization hit him one random night standing in front of his bathroom mirror where he pointed out all his flaws and wished to have been a little taller or bulkier. The more he thought of Mingi the deeper he went down the spiral of insecurities. 

“How’s uni then?” 

“Honestly? I think I’m ready to graduate, preferably last week.” 

Thankful for the change of conversation, you didn’t bother questioning the new topic. All the talk about Mingi was really tiring you out, as if it wasn’t enough you had to see his face almost every day, now you had to listen to people talk about him. You could only imagine what crime you did in your previous life to deserve such a fate in this one. The sound of an angel laughing fluttered through the cafe and you nearly ascended to heaven. 

“I totally get that. It’s so tiring. I mean back in high school we studied, what, eleven courses at once, but now I can barely get one down without being on the edge of a burnout… What are you majoring in to be so stressed though?”

“Social science,” you replied and closed the lid on your almost empty salad. Without thinking you blurted out, “and you’re in arts?”

“Fine arts to be exact, but I’m  guessing you already knew that.” 

Blood rushed to your face at the teasing remark and you mentally cursed yourself for revealing your mild stalking tendencies.

“It’s not like tha–”

You barely managed to defend yourself when he laughed again, his head thrown back and a hand covering his mouth. Bewitched by his beauty, you forgot what you were saying.

“I’m messing with you,” he chuckled out and winked.

“Right, of course… In my defense, I didn’t know you were studying fine arts.”

“That’s weird. I thought the random splotches of paint on my clothes would give it away.”

You laughed too, albeit not nearly as divine as his but Hyunjin would argue otherwise. Your laugh was sweet and contagious, and he felt his own lips draw up in a permanent smile, something you entirely missed as you closed your eyes from the hearty laughter.

“You have a cute laugh.”

Buckets overflowing with pink and red hearts poured over your head at the compliment and the warmth that followed tickled your skin. His gaze was heavy and you couldn’t hold it, so in an attempt to not completely make a fool of yourself, you turned towards the window, a hand cupping your cheek and shielding your side profile from his flirtatious look. It was evident you were embarrassed and it only added to his adoration of you. 

“Cute,” he whispered and you wanted to shrink in your seat until your back touched the floor and became one with the brown tiles. 

“Are you trying out for the Spring Championship?” You asked and sipped on your smoothie. It was a stupid question. With Hyunjin’s skills, he’d be crazy not to go for it.

“Yeah, but my coach said I should aim for the pair division instead. Something about showing more of my potential, but I’m not sure. It’s something completely new.” Hyunjin took another bite of his sallad and hummed, “What do you think I should do?”

“Me?” 

He nodded. As you put the drink down, your fingers intertwined and scratched at the skin around your colored fingernails.

“I mean, I get what your coach is saying. It would show you’re capable of more than just one skating style and broaden your chances of going professional but you’d have to nail it– Not that you wouldn’t manage! You really are amazing and I’m not saying you aren’t putting in the work–” 

Before you could venture into a rant of ‘him being a prodigy’ and ‘knowing best’, his voice sang your name and halted the praise-laden words being readied to launch out of your mouth.

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I get what you mean so please, be as honest as you want. I’m lacking some constructive criticism after all.”

You sheepishly smiled and found anything easier to look at than the gorgeous man in front of you. What a polite way to say, ‘I’m so good I can’t remember the last time people pointed out my flaws’.

“What I was going to say is; I think you should do what you feel like doing. Being pushed to do something won’t convey the same emotions as if you did it out of your own interest. The number would be amazing, that I have no doubt about, but perhaps it would maybe lack passion or your signature mark, the thing that screams ‘I am Hyunjin’, y’know?”

Your words were unexpected and wrapped around him like one of those heavy blankets knit by his grandmother; itchy and ruff but warm and calming at the same time. Nothing of what you said was out of proportion and in the five-second long silence Hyunjin realized it was the exact push he needed to start steering the wheel in his desired direction.

“Oh,” he breathed the words softly, “that’s an interesting take.”

“Too much?” You nervously asked.

“Not at all. I could listen to you talk all day.”

The confession hooked beneath your chin like invisible fingers and flicked it up until your wide eyes met his feline-shaped ones. The usually cold spark confined in his dark chocolate orbs was replaced with something tender, as the soil of a forest or the pretty fur of a bear. He perceived you with imaginary kisses of adoration on your face, traveling from your cheeks, nose, eyes and lastly, your lips before trailing back up to your eyes. You were beautiful, but turned even more so after the conversation and Hyunjin cursed himself for not being brave enough to plant real kisses on your stunning features.

“Will you compete in the preliminary?” 

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were slightly disappointed by the change of pace. The longing gaze was cut by a simple question, leaving no room for theories or thoughts about what it could possibly mean.

“Yes,” you answered and sipped on the pink drink. As much as you were bitter, the smoothie wasn’t, courtesy of the strawberry and white chocolate mixed together with a dash of rainbow sprinkles.

“I think you have a great shot of winning.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and there are only, what? Two or three girls who are remotely close to your talent, plus Mr. Jung is a great coach too. I mean he’s one of the greatest, really.” 

Hyunjin smiled, showing those fine teeth and the little creases around his eyes, and you felt the corners of your mouth curve. You bit down on the inside of your bottom lip to hide the yellow emotions from flashing through the cracks of your poorly structured facade. 

It didn’t take a genius to know you were born to be a figure skater. You’d been told so since your first competition at the age of ten. The same competition you spent countless hours practicing for. Perfecting every move — from the little flick of your pinky to the big jump spin — until you couldn’t get it wrong, until it became as easy as walking and breathing. 

That was when you secured your first gold medal, proudly displaying it around your neck and a rose bouquet in your trembling hands as the arena cheered for you. A big and genuine grin on your face, a contrast to the fabricated smile you wore out on the ice. 

Praises came left and right after that. At home, in school or at the local grocery store. Strangers on the street would express how talented you were and that they were rooting for you, ending with an encouraging ‘hwaiting’. But hearing the praise from Hyunjin — not your crush Hyunjin or prettiest boy on campus Hyunjin but the figure skating prodigy — had your heart jumping, spinning and gliding around your chest, graciously avoiding bumping into your ribs and lungs. Positive remarks from inexperienced people did nothing for you except trigger a temporary rush of glee, but every once in a while when someone like Hyunjin or Mr. Jung passed by, saying something simple as ‘perfect landing’ or ‘good job’ made you feel like the highest in the room. It was unmatched.

“If you say so,” you lamely responded, ignoring the fireworks going off inside you. 

“When’s the competition?”

“Hmm, December ninth, I think.”

“I’ll be there,” he suddenly announced.

“What?”

“Unless you don’t want me to?”

“No!” 

The few visitors in the cafe and the waitress behind the counter looked over at your table, startled at your sudden outburst muting the low pop music and chit-chatting. A whispered apology and one, two and three whole bows were all it took for you to turn back to Hyunjin. The figure skating prodigy sat with a frown and a crease between his brows. The hand holding his fork shook slightly from being turned down only for him to smile at your next words. 

“I would want that. I… I would-uh, like that. If you come to cheer me on.”

The fourth week passed since your practice together and out of those twenty-something days, eight of them were spent with Hyunjin, both on and off the rink. You weren’t doing anything special. Just texting and talking a lot more, eating lunch together and studying after school hours. You were still mousy around him and easily flustered but could you be at fault when he constantly looked his best.

The two green monsters in your apartment would beg to differ, claiming you replaced the two most important people in your life in the span of three hours for some guy — Keeho’s words, not yours — the same guy he was apparently betting his life savings on. Dasom wasn’t opposed to the idea of you befriending Hyunjin or possibly getting into a relationship with him. At the end of the day, it would always come down to your happiness that she’d place over some stupid bet. Although the money Keeho suggested would certainly bring her some joy, she’d even treat you to unlimited beef BBQ, at least for a day or two.

To celebrate the end of the first finals of the semester, Changbin, one of your seniors and Hyunjin’s friend, decided to throw a big Halloween party with everyone invited as long as they came dressed up and carried a bag of good vibes. Parties were a good way to let loose and have some fun between the crushing weight of schoolwork and figure skating. It was also kind of impossible to have a bad time with Keeho by your side. His Fridays were reserved for nights out, getting hammered at different clubs or at some house party. It didn’t matter if he had an essay assigned the following day or the opening shift, that man was leaving the house covered in glitter and with a good attitude.

That was how you found yourself at the entrance of a two-story-house, Keeho’s arms around your and Dasom’s waists and a huge grin on his face. 

The party was huge and planned for weeks, months even, so when you tried canceling at the last minute, claiming you were tired from your five hour long exam, a bewildered Keeho spawned outside your house with red leather pants sticking to him like a second skin and a matching unbuttoned flannel showcasing his fit stomach. The pair of red tinted sunglasses perched on his nose and horns sticking out of his black hair added the missing details to his costume; a sexy devil. 

His loud whines and stomping had Dasom peeking out of the room questioning why you were fighting instead of pre-gaming. 

She was just the perfect amount of cute and sexy in her costume with a red skirt — which Grandma Hood would never allow her granddaughter out in — that stopped just above her black hose-clad thigh. The black leather corset bodice fit around her waist enough to accentuate her boobs, almost spilling out over the white shirt that left her neck and upper chest bare. A cloak a few shades darker than her hair was drawn over her head and she carried a tiny basket in her hands. Call you the Big Bad Wolf the way you were about to eat her up!

Just as you thought you got out of their clutches, they reappeared twenty minutes later with a fifty-slide-long PowerPoint on why you should come with them. Every tenth page read ‘CANCELING LAST MINUTE ISN’T COOL >:(’ and how could you possibly argue with that? 

Thirty minutes before departure, Keeho was pushed out of your room as Dasom forced you into an outfit that left little to the imagination. A green heart shaped corset with a darker hue of green laced details going over the hem. It was tight but not uncomfortable and it made your body look ten times hotter than on a daily basis. Your buttocks were covered by a white satin skirt that wasn’t anything longer than Dasom’s. Golden laced-up heels adorned your bare legs and showed off your pretty manicured toes, they were painted white for reference. A plastic flower wreath was placed on your head with matching fairy wings coming out from behind your naked shoulders and a golden pendant dug into your cleavage while pearls hugged your neck and earlobes. Dasom really outdid herself with the makeup and applied some green eyeshadow to your eyelids and a dash of natural color to your lips. 

You looked like a mischievous fairy and seeing the proud and satisfied smile on Dasom’s face, you knew it was exactly the look she was going for. 

The thumping beat of loud pop music and drunken cheers came from inside the house and you felt the excitement buzzing in the tips of your fingers like static electricity. The more you thought about it, the happier you became about deciding to tag along. Several cars were parked outside and continued down the street. From the looks of it, you could only assume the whole population of Seoul was invited. Keeho led you through the door and you were immediately greeted by multiple unfamiliar faces. 

“I didn’t know my best friend was an A-list celebrity,” you joked and bumped your hips against his.

“Mmm, well I mean that’s because you’re with that boytoy of yours every day–”

“He’s not my boytoy!” 

All you managed to do before Dasom dragged you towards the kitchen — on the hunt for some free alcohol — was give a harsh pinch to the flesh on his waist. The redhead immediately poured some random liquor into empty shot glasses and you downed it on the count of three. She kept pouring more and more, and after your fourth shot you were steered towards the dance floor. It was really just the living room but with all the furniture pushed aside, creating a big space full of sweaty bodies swinging and shaking along to the music blaring from some expensive looking speakers. Somewhere in the crowd, you squished between your best friends, jokingly grinding against each other and singing out jumbled versions of all the songs playing.

“I don’t see him anywhere!” Dasom shouted in your ear suddenly, her breath a sweet mix of alcohol, chewing gum and her cherry perfume.

Still swaying to the beat, you spun to face her and clasped your hands around her neck. In return she placed her hands on your hips. You saw her more clearly now, her red lips in an exaggerated pout and nose scrunched up; she wasn’t drunk, but intoxicated enough to be quite sensitive. She’d laugh at the dumbest shit or cry over the smallest inconvenience.

“Who?!” You shouted back.

“Hongjoong!”

“The art boy?” Keeho butted in loudly behind you and earned himself two hasty nods from the pouty girl. “Let us have a night free from boys!”

She jammed a finger in Keeho’s direction. “You promised he’d be here!”

Ah, the masterplan of Yoon Keeho falling apart right in front of his nose. The sole reason Dasom decided to come with, besides the free booze and snacks, was because of the promise that the art majors would be there including a certain black and white haired boy with a singular painted pinky. To save himself from his own doing, Keeho guided an upset Dasom back to the kitchen claiming the art boy would be there and away from the ruckus because he was, quote unquote, slightly introverted and a loser. Knowing she was in safe hands you took the chance to break Keeho’s rule and whipped out your phone, sending a quick text to the person pinned on your messaging list. 

You [10:09 PM] Halloween party, yes or no?

Hyunjin [10:10 PM] no i have early practice tmr and can’t risk a hangover

Hyunjin [10:10 PM] hbu?

You leaned against the wall of the stairs leading up to the second floor and bit your lip to suppress a smile. With nimble fingers, you tapped on the little camera icon and positioned the phone above your head, capturing your outfit and makeup-covered face. The reply was quick and a pink heart appeared on the corner of the photo followed by a rattling text bubble. 

A low whistle grabbed your attention and your head twisted to the side to find Jungkook beside you, a red cup in his hand and white rabbit ears on his head. From the looks of it, his clothes were left on his bedroom floor. Black skin-fitted pants clung to his thick legs, showing every crack and crevice of his muscles, a cute bow tie sat snuggly around his neck and a pair of white cuffs around his wrists. The best part of his ‘costume’, which you were personally having a hard time tearing your eyes from, was the eight pack. Impressive, even you had to admit.

Jungkook drank you in. Eyes shamelessly going over your face, chest, side of your ass and legs. You didn’t shy away from his gaze nor did you feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t like you to marvel under the watchful eyes of men, to feel confidence as their tongues wetted their lips and hid smirks behind plastic cups. Any other day you’d tip your imaginary hat and run with your tail tucked firmly between your legs. Usually all it took was for Hyunjin to glance in your direction and you’d turn into a puddle, but not tonight. 

With too much liquor in your gut and an outfit that showcased more skin than you’d ever dared to do before, you allowed yourself to play the part of someone else. Someone with a little more spunk but the perfect amount of teasing to get what they wanted — an attitude you only had around your friends and another not-so-friendly figure — so when the male equivalent of a sexbomb waltzed in and stared you down, you felt nothing but pride and confidence. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you bit back and feigned annoyance with a roll of your eyes. The pet name was secretly growing on you, but you’d rather lick someone’s sweaty armpit than admit that. 

“Why? Is it reserved for anyone?”

“I’m not a table at a restaurant waiting to be snatched.”

He smirked at your snippy remark and sipped his drink. “Who knew Mingi’s girl could be so feisty.”

“I’m not his girl.” Your tongue quickly kissed the roof of your mouth at the mention of a certain cookie-and-cream-haired guy, your previous acting skills coming to bite you in the ass. Now you were really starting to get annoyed.

“So you’re up for grabs?”

You couldn’t decide whether to play it off with another flirty remark or show him the middle finger, and you didn’t get the chance to as a gruff voice you’d recognize anywhere, beat you to it. 

“Quit being an ass, JK.”

Mingi leaned against the wall behind you with his arms crossed over his chest and staring down at the horny excuse of a man. 

Looking over your shoulder you quickly took him in and realized he too was dressed in leather. The brown pants, long coat and crop top were all made out of the same material. His top was short enough to reveal a sliver of his tanned skin and the little happy trail was teasingly continuing down his pants. If it weren’t for the cowboy hat hiding tufts of his dyed strands you’d never guess his costume, maybe even go the extra length of calling him a chocolate flavored condom just to mess with him. 

Jokes aside, Mingi looked good. Body, hair, face, everything. You suddenly got the urge to snatch his hat and prance around with it on your head. What’s that saying? Steal a hat, ride the cowbo–

Maybe Keeho was right. You should’ve kept the night boy- and alcohol free.

Mingi met your round eyes and restrained himself from letting them wander down your figure and drinking you in like an ice cold glass of water on a hot summer day. He had seen you dressed in various figure skating costumes, each brighter and more revealing than the next one, but this was different! That itty-bitty skirt and skin-tight corset did a number on him and he nearly lost his footing as he saw you from across the room. The image of you below him, eyes dilated and chest heaving, as his hands worshiped your body. Working their way up from your thighs — fingers wrapping around the plush flesh and squeezing teasingly every now and then, evoking whines from your lips and Mingi knew they’d be soft, so so soft and perfect for his calloused hands — and continuing to your tits, his mouth salivating as one of Pavlov’s dogs before dinner, wanting nothing more than to coat them with multiple layers of–

Mingi stopped the train of horny thoughts before he could pop a very visible boner in front of everyone. It was hard, but not as hard as he’d be if he kept thinking. As he was getting ready for the party Mingi didn’t want to entertain the thought of you possibly being there — which he realized was stupid because, of course Keeho would drag you to the party of the year — let alone interact with you looking like that and risk losing his cool. That changed when a familiar pair of bunny ears came into view and his legs moved on their own, and next thing Mingi knew he was right behind you, glaring daggers at his teammate, who more than likely shared the same thoughts as Mingi, if not worse. And logically speaking, Mingi had no right to be worked up at Jungkook’s antics. On the other hand, logic was not his friend as of lately so in the five second long journey — from the door to your spot — he vowed to let go of any rational thoughts and just let his body do what felt right.

Mingi parted his lips but the words died in his throat as your savior in the form of a giggly Dasom shouted your name from across the house, a red tint over her cheeks and fingers intertwined with Keeho’s, the other holding an empty bottle of soju. You could just make out the words ‘spin’ and ‘bottle’ and it was enough for you to bolt. Who knew a bunch of young adults would gather in a ring and spin a bottle to determine their make-out partner? You were certain you’d left these antics back in high school but apparently not.

Everyone took their place on the carpeted floor and you were seated between Yeonjun and Soobin with Dasom somewhere on your right. Looking around the quite big circle, you noticed a few familiar faces; Choi San — while Jungkook was just a guy looking to be laid every other day San purposely seeked out to hurt others with the sex, promising them a relationship only to hook up with someone else the next day right in their face — his situationship, the new addition to town; Park Seonghwa and the kind dance freak Choi Yeonjun. Jungkook and Mingi joined the circle shortly after you, just in time as Keeho began explaining the rules, taking on the role of a natural leader despite balancing on the thin line of tipsy and drunk.

1. Wait your turn.

2. Spin the bottle.

3. Kiss whoever the bottle lands on with as much or little tongue as you want.

To break the non-existent tension, Keeho took it upon himself to set the mood. He spun the bottle and everyone watched in anticipation as it landed on a girl with green spray painted pigtails, red lipstick smudged from one cheek to the other and a skimpy purple suit showing her tanned skin. Lips formed in a smirk, he grabbed the sides of her head and drew her in a messy kiss with a lot of tongue and spit and everything. Despite it looking…nasty, he set the bar pretty high and no doubt in mind that others would try to be as foul, if not more.

A guy in a Scooby Doo costume kissed Dasom timidly on her cheek and a girl looking like Batman made out with another girl dressed as the hot version of a minion. Three bottle spins later and it was finally your turn. As you twirled the empty glass bottle everyone watched with curious eyes to see where it would land. You didn’t really care that much about who’d be on the receiving end–

Until it landed between Dick and Asshole, San and Mingi. 

Your tongue darted out and wet your lips. Gazing from Mingi to San and back to Mingi, you realized they were both so very hot. San with his raven hair slicked back, left forehead exposed except for the handful of strands falling over and a red-blackish eyeshadow around his sharp foxy eyes. His lips were red and smudged whether from kissing or on purpose. To your surprise, he was dressed in a black tuxedo and equally dark slacks, outdoing everyone and their silly costumes. You caught the burgundy lipstick adorning his neck like an expensive necklace. 

Averting your attention to Mingi, who held a few inches over San you felt a distinct pulse between your legs. His eyes were already on you, hard and dark, their usual gleam of teasing gone somewhere deep within. 

“What’s it gonna be darling? Me? Mingi? Both?” San’s lips curled up, a smirk playing over his mouth.

Your face grew warmer, the result of alcohol mixed with their heated gazes sizing you up and ready to tear you apart. You didn’t want to choose yet you didn’t want to kiss them both. Even with your hazy mind, you knew your fragile heart couldn’t take it. 

“Sannhie and Minji should kiss-uh!” 

There wasn’t a time in your life where you thought the Little Red Riding Hood would come to your rescue, but oh boy, were you happy it happened.

Dasom 2 - Boys 0

The attention was quickly thrown back to the guys. San leaned into Mingi, tilted his head sideways, and innocently blinked up at him with a shiteating grin on those sinful lips of his. The taller one barely gave San as much as a side glance before bumping against him with his shoulder. Don’t you dare, the gesture said. 

As the next person spun the bottle Mingi huffed to himself. You were an undeniably attractive girl and although he wouldn’t mind you deliberately puckering your lips at him, he couldn’t stand you not choosing him over the walking STD on his left.

The game continued and thus far you received a peck on the cheek from a ballerina, kissed a girl dressed as a bloodied cheerleader and then a guy in a skeleton costume. Unlike you, Keeho had his throat down almost everyone’s throat. Halfway through the game people speculated if he had a magnet connected to the bottle or not, given the way the tip always found him.

“JK, it’s your turn!” Keeho pointed at the bunny-clad man and wiggled his brows. 

You leaned your head against the boy next to you — he introduced himself as Jimin — slightly growing bored of the game. It wasn’t like you got any action that had you buzzing with excitement or kept your expectations high. 

No, no, you were done with the game and decided to take a lap around the house before joining the crowd of dancing people — who seemed to be enjoying themselves a whole lot more than you did — after the last spin. The drunken cheers erupting from the circle had you straightening, curious to see who was the lucky — or perhaps unlucky — one, only to realize the last spin was pointed at you.

Three seconds. Jungkook granted you all three seconds to collect your thoughts before scooting closer and grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger. He offered you a wink that sent goosebumps up your arms, despite the alcohol keeping you warm, and pulled you towards him. Steadying yourself with one hand on the carpeted floor and the other having a deadly grip on his thick thigh, digging your nails into his leather pants. Your lips met and his were surprisingly soft, with a faint taste of cherry chapstick. Jungkook traced the outline of your upper lip and you opened your mouth to him, a moan nearly slipping out as he slid his tongue inside and expertly explored his way to the back of your throat. That’s how it felt at least. Jungkook held the reins of the kiss and all you had to do was follow his lead and not fall behind. The lack of air eventually broke you up and the sight of his red and swollen lips made the familiar heat throb in your panties again.

“I need a drink,” you declared to no one in particular. 

Feeling parched and throat itchy from the tongue invading your space, you jumped towards the kitchen. The hoots and whistles were quickly replaced by pouts and calls for your name to come back, it was all swallowed by the loud music, and you unintentionally ignored them. The mass of people from when you last entered the kitchen had dispersed all throughout the house except for the three girls mingling around the kitchen island, pouring multiple flasks of liquor into Christmas-themed mugs. You shivered at the unimaginable taste and decided to pop a soju bottle instead. 

With the chairs gone, presumably hidden by Changbin for obvious reasons, you parked your butt on the cold marble counter and watched over the sea of people dancing in the living room. You slowly swayed to the beat of the music and hummed the lyrics, a few weird moves with your arms but you didn’t care. You were having fun on your own! In fact you were having so much fun that you didn’t notice the figure leaning against the counter connected to yours, their elbows propped up on each side and their hands hanging by default. 

“What are we looking at?”

Mingi’s low tone snatched you back to reality and your wiggling came to a stop. Furrowing your brows as you tried to pinpoint the exact moment he entered the kitchen, how long he’d been there for and where his hat had gone. Your focus was then averted to his face. This was the only time you’d seen him up close without hatred clouding your eyes. 

You wanted to touch the outline of his features, to feel the slight slope of his nose and to slide down its pointy tip until his naturally plumb and puckered lips kissed your fingers, which would later grace his relaxed jaw. It was a shame he was a douchebag, he’d make a really good boyfriend, lookwise, you thought.

“You…” 

The words to your drunken ears were loud and clear but actually came out all jumbled up.

“Hm?”

Mingi turned to you and expected a scowl born from disgust or a snarky reply that would rattle his bones. Not in a million years did he picture you looking at him with blown eyes and lips parted as if at a loss for words for witnessing something so ethereal one could barely react.

“You’re so pretty,” you repeated, still looking down at him, and gently cupped the side of his face. 

A battle between self-control and impulse took place somewhere in that disorganized brain of yours, and you managed to hold back from caressing the lines of his countenance. The breath hitched in his throat as his Adam’s apple thickly moved up and down at the gentle feel of your skin against his. Mingi was already caught off guard by your compliment, and your touch literally and figuratively KO’d him like he’d seen in multiple boxing matches online. Worry poked at his core and ventured up into all the crevices and dark corners of his mind. 

Did something happen in the five minutes you were alone? Did you hit your head? Were you struck with alcohol poisoning in its early stages? 

“What? Have nothing to say now, Mingi-ya?”

His initial worry turned to relief as you pulled back, your lips curving upward and eyes shining with mischief. You didn’t suffer a concussion or life threatening poisoning. You were just drunk. Mingi raised an eyebrow at your flirtiness and his mouth turned into a lopsided smirk, showing a row of his white teeth. Unlike you, Mingi only had two bottles of beer in his system. One at Yunho’s place right before they were to head over and the second during the third round of spin the bottle. It wasn’t even nearly enough to make him tipsy and while he originally entered the kitchen to grab another one, he realized it would be better not to, especially with you already out of it and no babysitter in sight.

“I have plenty to say, princess, just don’t think you’re ready for it.”

You leaned closer to him, the flesh of your boobs nearly spilling over the corset pushed in his face and while his eyes were drawn to them like moths to a flame, Mingi refused to give in just as you refused to stare at his exposed and well-formed abdomen, courtesy of his short leather vest.

“And what if I am?” 

Mingi pushed away from the counter and placed his hands on the vacant surface beside your thighs, successfully caging you in. The switch in positions and height had you crossing your legs, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He breathed out a short chuckle and tilted his head down, his tongue darting over his bottom lip. You were already fun to tease sober, but this — drunk-you — was something else, especially with the lack of fabric around your body. 

“Then I’d tell you how good you look tonight.”

You arched your back, your bottom lip jutting out as you looked through your lashes and gripped the edge of the counter.

 “Just tonight?”

“No, not just tonight but I’d be lying to say you didn’t look,” he paused and searched for the right words, “more captivating like this.” 

“Like what?” You challenged him and inched forward, feeling his mint breath fan your face.

“Pretty, needy and really fucking sweet.”

“Maybe if you complimented me more often then I would be pretty, needy and sweet all the time.”

Mingi hummed despite knowing that wasn’t the solution to your hissy attitude, “Maybe I should have or maybe…” He tested the waters by leaning in closer, lips just an inch from grazing your ear, and when you didn’t retract Mingi took it as his sign to whisper, “You shouldn’t always act so bra–”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my least favorite hockey player!” A thick, accented voice cut through the pleasant atmosphere.

Mingi sighed at the intruder and stepped back, revealing your unintentionally hidden body, one hand still on the counter while the other sassily snapped to his hip. Of course he of all people would be at the party tonight, his friend was the host after all. Mingi hadn’t seen the winger since that day outside the public library and he wished to keep it that way, unfortunately he seemed to attract trouble wherever he went. Even a  blonde man dressed in a police uniform. 

A black vest with a hundred pockets tightly stuck to Chan’s chest while the shirt underneath was cuffed up to his elbows, showing off his pretty veins and mass of muscle. The kitchen lights reflected against a pair of silver handcuffs attached to his belt loop, identical to the other pair wrapped around his right wrist. You had never seen a hotter officer prior and for a split second you reevaluated your choice of career path. Letting your eyes linger a tad bit longer on his face (big nose, big lips, you wondered if anything else was big too), you realized he looked quite familiar. 

“Yeah, Chan, don’t go creaming your pants.”

“Impossible with the little pretty thing beside you. Go ahead, tell me your name, darling.”

Chan’s eyes ghosted over you briefly, not enough to completely take you in but just on the brink of feeling seen and, for the first time since you stepped foot in the huge house with a grand chandelier in the hallway and a dining table big enough for three branches of your family tree, you felt weird. Not because he said something a couple guys already hadn’t — you knew you were pretty, hell, you were hot — but because of how he said it. There was no sincerity or truth behind his words and his eyes barely budged, just briefly flickering over to you from the giant on your right. The tension in the kitchen told you they weren’t fond of each other, less so than you were of Mingi, and it doubled your discomfort. 

You turned your gaze down — to the green hem pinched between your thumb and pointer finger and it did nothing to soothe the ill feeling in your tummy — and missed the murderous look from the cowboy beside you. His previously playful eyes turned dark and sharp enough to pierce Chan’s brain, his jaw clenched so hard that his teeth nearly cracked from the muscles flexing the bone and his lips were pressed into a thin line. Mingi felt himself begin to quiver as the rage shot through his veins faster than any alcohol or adrenaline ever did, and if it weren’t for you sitting right there it would take him less than a second to make the blonde midget repeatedly kiss his fists. 

The upcoming game lingered in the back of Mingi’s mind, working as a reminder as to what Chan was up to. He knew it was all part of his plan to rile him up, slither under his skin and poke the sleeping bear just enough to get a reaction out of Mingi. Something that would make him lose his cool before their big game or mess up his focus, maybe even have to sit it out, not that his coach would ever risk doing that. 

Then he also remembered that while Chan both liked boys and girls, he did have a boyfriend — the last time Mingi checked — so he knew the winger was just chatting shit and wasn’t actually interested in you, but it still didn’t sit right. Mingi already didn’t like you interacting with Jungkook or almost swapping spit with San, two guys he had no actual issues with, so imagine how livid he was now. It was disgusting and rude, and judging from the way you fell silent Mingi interpreted it as you becoming uncomfortable. It was a thing not even Jungkook nor San managed to do, and Mingi would be damned if he let anyone speak to you like that.

“Watch your mouth–”

Having heard enough and not wanting to be a witness to a brawl waiting to happen, you jumped off the counter and disappeared into the mass of people. You weren’t in the mood to party anymore and it was already well past midnight, a good enough excuse to either drag Keeho or Dasom with you home. Back in the kitchen, Mingi towered over Chan and used all his willpower not to grab the shorter’s collar and push him up against the wall.

“Aren’t you gonna get your girl?” 

The taller of the two chuckled dryly. 

“I am, but first a word of advice? If you know what’s good for you, don’t ever — and I mean, fucking ever — look in her direction again. Because if I ever catch you looking at her again,” Mingi lowered his tone so no prying ears would hear his next words except for Chan and growled out, “I’ll personally use your fucking skates to cut your fucking eyes out.”

Chan stepped back, arms crossed over his broad chest and head facing the ceiling. “You don’t scare me, Song.” But the slight tremor in his raspy voice told Mingi everything he needed to know.

“Maybe I should.”

On his way out, Mingi purposely shoulder-checked Chan and snickered as he staggered backwards. They exchanged final stares and Mingi cracked a cocky smirk, imagining a vivid picture of Chan laying on the ice with a freshly broken nose and blood staining his ugly jersey. 

Yeah, Mingi was definitely going to beat his ass, an unbalanced scoreboard and Chan’s blemishes were his future witnesses.

Finding you was easier said than done. Who knew a human sized fairy could vanish from the face of earth in the three minutes he was busy giving threats left and right. Certainly not Mingi. He searched every room, every space he thought you could fit in, he even went as far as to check the master bedroom and bathroom upstairs, ignoring the poorly written note taped on the doors telling guests to fuck off, and then he rummaged through the big walk-in closet, but alas, you weren’t there either. 

Leaving the bedroom of Changbin’s parents unscattered he stumbled back down the stairs and into the living room, which was painfully silent as red and blue lights flashed through the front windows. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening. Knowing everyone inside was of age, Mingi wasn’t worried about any consequences but he also had no time to sit around and wait for the party to be shut down and to lamely shimmy out the front door with everyone else. Turning a random corner, planning his big escape, something — or rather someone — rammed into him. Out of instinct his hand gripped whatever body part was in reach and kept them from falling on their ass. Looking down he was met with you, bottom lip pulled between your teeth and eyes locked on the floor.

“You good there, princess?”

You nodded and mumbled under your breath.

“Mmm, what was that?” Mingi slightly lowered his head to hear you better.

“My drink.” 

And rightfully an empty glass bottle lay beside your feet — not an ounce of alcohol inside, though — and thinking about it, you looked more out of it than the last time he saw you. Mingi placed his free hand on your shoulder and tentatively squeezed it, catching your attention again.

“You good to go?”

“Haf to find Dee and Kyo.”

“They were looking for you but I told them to go and I’d bring you home.” The lie slipped out smoother than butter spread out on toast.

“They… left?” 

Your voice faded into a quiet whimper. Lips wobbling and eyes glazed with unshed tears threatening to spill any minute now. The beautiful flower tiara slipped to the right side of your head and hung on for dear life. You looked like a kicked puppy on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“Hey, no, no, no, they didn’t leave you,” Mingi hushed gently. “They went to… your friend, the redhead, she forgot her phone in the bathroom so I told her I’d take care of you… yeah.” 

“Dee…”

“Yeah, Dee. C’mon now we have to go through the backdoor.” 

With hands respectfully resting on your shoulders, Mingi guided you outside. 

A few blocks away, he noticed goosebumps littering your skin. It was pretty late, one or two in the morning, and the temperature had dropped rapidly since you were last out. A gush of air kissed your exposed body and sent another shiver down your spine. Mingi draped his jacket over you, it wasn’t much thicker but it would do the trick until he got you home. Sensing you were about to protest, he maneuvered your arms through the sleeves and zipped it up to your chin. The gesture warmed you more than the leather fabric and you nearly melted against his touch. 

You didn’t know if you were touch starved or just too hammered that even Mingi’s kindness sent your stomach on a confused rollercoaster. He wasn’t faring any better. Mingi was so sure you couldn't get any hotter after tonight, but then he just had to offer you his jacket and witness the material swallow you whole, his heart leaping in his chest at your sweater paws.

He cleared his throat. “You’ll get sick and I said I’d take care of you.”

“You’re going to be sch-ick too.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout that.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but stopped as a sneeze rippled through the empty street. Mingi raised his brow as if to say, I told you so. It took everything in him not to slide his thumb over your little pout or smooth out the crease between your furrowed brows so he settled on clenching his hands into fists and walk as close to you as possible without grazing fingers. 

The moonlight cast a silvery glow over you and something in his gut fell. He felt sick, but good at the same time. His insides were burning yet, his skin was cold to the touch. The urge to drape an arm over your shoulders, push your body flushed to his side and provide you with a warmth his jacket never could — a warmth of security and care — was becoming overwhelming and he awkwardly coughed.

“Let’s get you home princess.”

“‘M not your princess.”

“You’re not my princess yet.”

A loud gasp followed by a slap to his bicep had him suppressing a chuckle. Even when drunk you were so fun to tease. The walk to your apartment — or wherever he was taking you — was relatively quiet and calm. Not many words were exchanged between you which was as unusual as you being together without glaring holes into each other’s heads. Eventually the comfortable silence was broken by his name falling from your lips. 

“Are you and Chan not friends now?”

The real question hid in plain sight and Mingi didn’t have to read between the lines to understand what you were asking. 

“Nah, Chan and I have never been friends.”

“Like us?”

“Princess, if we never were friends I wouldn’t have had so much fun with you tonight.”

“You had fun with me?”

Mingi laughed at that. You really were something different while drunk. “Of course! You’re quite entertaining when you aren’t cranky.”

You didn’t say anything at first and glancing at you, Mingi panicked again. Your shoulders shook and for a second he thought you were crying. He mentally cursed himself for forgetting about you being a sensitive-drunk and before he could shoot out a half-assed explanation to his statement, a laugh bubbled out of you, and Mingi froze. It was the first time he made you laugh. A firework of butterflies exploded in him and suddenly he craved to hear you again, to find the yellow button with the word ‘laugh’ scribbled over and just press it until it went out of function. Call him dramatic, but Mingi was used to seeing you bare your teeth and not giggle like a schoolgirl. 

You felt lightheaded and dizzy at his confession, chalking it up as a compliment, and decided to keep the conversation going because that’s what friends do. “I’m going to the preliminaries.” 

You swerved into a whole other conversation topic and seeing the gleeful grin on your face, Mingi didn’t have the heart to tease you for wanting to talk to him. Plus it was also the first time you’d ever told him anything about yourself and he’d be damned to ruin the moment.

“Ah, really? For the Spring Competition, right?”

You hummed enthusiastically and went on rambling about it. Starting from the endless practices to the big day, how you were nervous but also excited. You even voiced how annoyed you were with your coach for giving you such difficult choreography, but purposely decided not to mention the help you got from a certain raven haired boy — a boy that made your heart beat faster and cheeks hotter — leaving him completely out of the conversation and whether it was because you simply forgot or was distracted by someone else wasn’t important right now, not when Mingi’s smile shone brighter than all the stars combined.

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

“We are friends,” you said matter of factly, your ‘S’ coming out with a lisp. “Alllll my friends are going.”

“You want me to come, princess?”

“You’ll be there?!”

You slinked your arm through his and squished it against your chest, cheek pressed to his bicep as you looked at him. One would believe Mingi hung up each and every single star individually in your name for you to look at him that way.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll be there.”

Nothing much was said after that and it wasn’t until you reached the door of your apartment complex that the silence was broken.

“Thank yu-h for walkin’ me home, Mingki-ya.”

The nickname completely went over his head, too distracted by your hand on his arm. The touch of your skin on his sent jolts of electricity through him and Mingi never wanted you to let go. 

“Need help up the stairs?”

“No, but maybe with something else.” 

You shuffled closer to him and balanced on your tippy toes, a small but very genuine smile mirroring the one on Mingi’s face. Your sweet perfume wafted with the cool breeze and he subconsciously leaned forward as if to chase after it, his hands finding solace on your waist telling himself it was just to steady you again. 

“I think…” you whispered, “you owe me a kiss.”

You honestly didn’t know where the confidence came from or what possessed you to say such a thing, but the words were already out. Goosebumps littered Mingi’s skin and not because of his lack of clothes or the chilly temperature. He wished nothing more than to kiss you breathless, have you writhing beneath him and whisper his name like a mantra. Leaning closer and closer to you, his head slightly turned downward as you pushed up on your tiptoes and one hand came up to cup your cheek. 

“Please,” you whispered.

The slur in your words brought him back to reality and he abruptly pulled back. However much Mingi wanted to press his lips against yours, he also didn’t want it to happen under these circumstances. Not when you were drunk and probably had no idea who you were talking to or what you were demanding of him. Mingi was better than that.

“What’s wrong?” You stared up at him, your eyes confused and worried. 

“It’s late, princess.” Was all he said and let go of your waist, proceeding to open the door for you. “It’s time to head inside.” 

He forced out a tight-lipped smile that showed his pretty dimples, but his eyes didn’t crinkle. Albeit your mind being fuzzy you could still notice the sudden drop in the atmosphere and it was enough to get you slightly sobered up, at least to understand what was happening. 

You blinked, only then really realizing how close you were standing to each other, breaths mingling and chests rising in sync. Hastily, you turned on your heel, no goodbyes or second glances to be exchanged, and bolted up the stairs with a cloud of shame over your head and wobbly legs that caved the moment you stepped inside the safety of your apartment. Shame washed over you like a tidal wave and the funny feeling in your stomach wasn’t helping. The horrible taste of alcohol and acid bubbled up your throat and on your run to the bathroom you fought back a gag of the pre-digested food that threatened to reappear. Drunk-Dasom would have your head on a stick if you got vomit all over the floor. The green–ish puke was flushed down the drain, but the memory of your failed attempt at a kiss followed you like a shadow on a sunny day. You could only hope Mingi was too out of it to even remember ever walking you home.

The night of the Halloween party ended rather quickly and you could only remember bits and pieces of it, but most of the embarrassing memories stuck. You physically jolted every time you thought about it, which wasn’t that often considering there was only a few more days until the preliminaries and your focus were mainly set on your studies and perfecting the choreography, but when it did happen you were ready to dig a six-foot-deep hole in the ground. For once, you felt lucky not to stumble upon Mingi on campus or in the hallway as he too was occupied with practices for his game against the Red Tigers. So no, you weren’t intentionally avoiding him, although it played a big part in your favor as you were not mentally ready to face him. 

On the days you had nothing to do, you couldn’t help but replay the antagonizing events and curse your-drunk-self for having a loose lipped mouth. There was something about alcohol that made you into a completely different girl with a bold and initiative personality. To make things worse, you just had to latch onto the only guy whose two-hundred-and-six bones you couldn’t stand. You remembered being so relaxed around Mingi, so flirty and touchy as if he was a part of your clique. You remembered calling him a friend, subtly inviting him to the preliminaries and how your body responded to his teasing in a not-so-hostile way. Most important of all you couldn’t get his words out of your head, how you were ‘pretty, needy and fucking sweet’.

The craziest part of it all was how you found Mingi hotter the longer the night went on. The moment you laid eyes on his stupid cowboy hat, something changed and you were drawn to him like a horny teenager who wanted nothing more than to get in his pants, but was too awkward to actually do anything about it. You knew you couldn’t look at him the same way ever again. You’d just imagine his prominent abs, flushed cheeks and plumb lips caught between his teeth, and start heating up. 

No, the craziest part was you trying to kiss him. 

Lips locking, tongues fighting, spit swapping, whatever! Drunk or not, you wanted and tried to kiss him and he pulled away. 

The scene popped up in your head at the most random of times; while brushing your teeth, on your walk to college, during your bathroom- and lunch breaks, in between practices, whenever you saw his brown jacket neatly laid on your desk, the first few minutes of your morning and right before you fell asleep. Maybe the memory was the reason you couldn’t land any of your jumps.

“Fuck this shit,” you said under your breath and sat down on one of the benches beside the rink. 

A break was long overdue and without Mr. Jung there to hover over your neck, you took five minutes to gather yourself.

You were thankful Hyunjin had classes until the afternoon, you weren’t sure you’d live to see another day if he were to lay his hand on your body, guiding you through the movement with a few helpful pointers — that you’d forget immediately — just like he’d done last week. You whined and buried your head in your hands. Your mind was a scrambled mess. Instead of focusing on the competition, you were stuck thinking about two boys, which brought you to your next issue. 

Why were you so bothered by Mingi’s lack of reciprocation, it was just a stupid kiss?!

“Ah, I’m really losing my mind,” you said and collected your stuff. 

There was no way you were getting anything done. With one hand on the handle, you opened the door while rummaging through your bag for your headphones, not paying attention to where you were walking and stumbled into the arms of the very person you couldn’t get out of your head. 

“Falling for me, princess?” The teasing tilt to his voice hit your ear, raising goosebumps on the entirety of your body and nearly sending a shiver down your spine.

Curse the universe and its stupid ways of functioning. 

You jumped from Mingi’s hold around you. He wore a simple brown knit zip-up sweater with a white t-shirt underneath, a pair of simple blue jeans and what seemed like a hundred chains and completed the look with some white sneakers. Not wanting to meet his eyes you stared at the spot between his brows before averting the gaze down to his lips, wetted by his freakishly attractive pink tongue and then back up again. The one-sided smirk told you that he totally caught you looking and you had half a mind not to ask what was so amusing.

Clearing your throat in hopes of calming the upturned beating of your heart, you replied, “I’d rather fall to my death than for you.”

“Right, yet here you were in my arms like a true damsel in distress.”

Taken back by his comment, you realized two things.

A) Mingi probably thought you couldn’t remember anything from Changbin’s party and used that to his advantage, and B) he was still the annoying Mingi from before, just more annoying and a bit (so much more) hotter. 

Despite him being a prick, you weren’t against playing the role of having completely forgotten the events of the Halloween party. 

“You’re right about one thing, Song. I’m a damsel, but the fuck am I ever in distress to be needing your help.”

“We’re back to last name basis, how sad.” 

He placed a hand over his heart and jutted out his bottom lip, and Lord knows you wanted to trace it with your thumb, push into his mouth, and feel his tongue under your finger. A bit embarrassed at your sudden train of horniness, you stuffed your hand into the pocket of your hoodie and dug your fingers into your palm, embracing the slight sting that steered you clear of those thoughts. Mingi didn’t pay it any mind, stuck on the part where you didn’t say anything against your designated nickname. Not to be an arrogant asshole, but Mingi was a hundred percent sure you secretly liked it and it only made him more sure when you didn’t nip back at him for it.

“Is it something you want or are you going to let me pass through?”

Mingi crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door opening. “Quick to run away now, aren’t we?”

“From you? Every day of the week.”

“Mmm, that’s funny seeing how we always end up together. Care to explain that, princess?”

That little shit. You’d wipe the smirk of his face if it wouldn’t be considered assault. “We wouldn’t have to be if you would stop following me around, stalker.”

“I’m not sure a stalker would get you home safely.”

Either he was playing with you like usual or testing you to see if you really had no memory of that night after all. You shifted your focus from his left eye to his right and back to the left, searching for anything that would help you uncover his motive.

“Yeah, you have to find out where I live somehow don’t you?”

“Well, it’s not like we both use the rink regularly or go to the same college or live in the same city. Trust me when I say if I wanted to know where you live I’d be way sneakier, so I don’t know princess, your accusations are lacking.”

“You’re a real prick, you know that?”

“Totally haven’t heard that one before.” Pushing off the wall, he headed deeper into the hallway and when he didn’t hear the sound of the doors opening and closing, he turned around to see you still standing there. “What? Aren’t you leaving?”

You squinted and nipped mindlessly at the inside of your cheek. Truthfully, you didn’t know why you hadn’t already booked it for the bus stop and jumped on the next one coming, engine warm and wheels rolling.

“Or you wanna stay and see me practice. I can put on a show just for you.” Mingi grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and raised it enough to show what was hiding underneath, tongue sticking out and a flirty wink sent your way.

Fuming and at a loss for words, you exited the ice rink faster than a speeding bullet. You were hot and sweaty despite it being the last week of November and you knew it wasn’t because of your excessive training, but rather the irritating feeling crawling up your legs and pulse in your abdomen. 

“...then she flipped her hair and finished with a model walk!” 

Keeho poorly reenacted the interaction, hips swaying violently as he strutted through the kitchen with an attentive Dasom sitting on the seat opposite you, nibbling on some crackers. The boy was talking about the newest gossip at the school, something you couldn't care less about. 

“I swear to God one day I’m going to kill him!” Your outburst startled Keeho and Dasom. 

“Who, why and when are we going?”

“Song Mingi.”

“No, can do. Have you seen the muscles on that monstrosity?”

You glared at Keeho who looked away, finding the interior of your kitchen much more interesting. The soft voice of your best friend asking what happened caught your attention and you were quick to explain the reason behind your frustration.

“Say what you want, but if I was you I’d have gotten him in bed a long time ago.”

If only Keeho knew how badly your unintentional plan to do exactly that fired back, leaving you crying yourself to sleep. Not because it was Mingi, but because the combination of rejection and alcohol coursing through your veins made you a hundred times more emotional. 

“You don’t even like him,” you cried out and slammed your palm on the table.

“No, but he’s incredibly hot and the sex would be a-ma-zing!”

“Dasom tell me you have something smart. He’s a lost cause.”

The offended ‘hey’ was ignored by both girls. 

“I don’t think you’ll agree with me,” she started and tried hiding the smile growing on her face. “But technically you were in distress and Mingi was there to help, so you were kind of wrong there.”

Your rapid fingers that were rhythmically tapping the wooden surface froze at the new piece of information. That you didn’t know about.

“Do enlighten me, when was this?”

“At Changbin’s party, when he walked you home and gave you his jacket.” She popped another cracker and smiled.

You completely forgot about that – about the little chivalrous act of his. The second-hand embarrassment of your own stupidity hit you like a truck so hard, you slapped your hands over your eyes and harshly rubbed them. Great, first you humiliated yourself while drunk, and now you made a fool of yourself sober too.

“So we can’t kill him?” Keeho piped up.

Dasom threw her hands up, quick to not claim such a statement. “I didn’t say that, but it would be unjustified. Also he probably thought it was funny especially when he thinks you can’t remember anything.”

“Nothing about him is unjustified, trust me and, wow, cool to hear you find happiness in my agony!”

“Puh-lease it’s just Mingi. Not like you care about him, so tell me. How was practice with Hyunjin last week? You never give us the juicy details anymore.” Keeho leaned against the kitchen table, his chin resting in his palm and eyes batting excessively. 

“That’s not true. I don’t tell you anything,” you jabbed a thumb in Dasom’s direction, “she knows everything.”

“Wha– How!? What!? And I’m supposed to call you my friends!”

“It was nothing anyway, Kyo. He just helped me with my number, nothing new I promise.”

He pointed at Dasom. “Spill.”

And then it was her turn to re-tell everything you told her a few days ago. 

You were struggling with your choreography and no matter how much you practiced, nothing was working your way. As you were five seconds away from a mental breakdown, Hyunjin swooped in like a true knight in shining armor and saved the day. He encouraged you to explain the whole program from start to finish as if you were talking to a toddler even though he could probably master it in an hour. To your luck, it helped ease the tension in your shoulders and you even managed to do spins without falling on your ass, but your movements were still stiff and not as perfect as you’d need them to be if you wanted to win over the judges. Trying something else, Hyunjin told you to follow him. He somehow turned your mono focused choreography into a duet, hands holding onto you when deemed fit and guiding you until you were in sync, until two became one. One mind, one body, one soul.

“I’m calling it now, you’re a match made in heaven.”

“Yet you think I should fuck Mingi?”

“Yeah, but if you think about it, and I mean really think about it, guys automatically become ten times hotter when working out so I understand your frustration with Mingi, right? But what you have with Hyunjin is not just sexual frustration! He’s sweet, he’s kind and he’s perfect! So it wouldn’t be weird if you got it down with Mingi as long as you date Hyunjin in the end so I can win the money–”

“What she has with Mingi is so much more than just sexual frustration! There’s passion and chemistry, that doesn’t come out of the blue!” Dasom shot up from her seat and glared passionately at Keeho, as if reciting one of her many poems.

“Yeah, but would you rather be with a guy who respects you and treats you right or with someone who’s a douche all year round if we don’t count your birthday and Valentine’s day?” 

The question was aimed at you, yet Dasom cut through like an unsupervised Kalashnikov rifle before you even managed to open your mouth.

“No one wants to be with a meanie, there’s no arguing about that, but Mingi doesn’t treat her like crap, be realistic Kyo. Yes, he just likes to rile her up and yes, he can be nice too, remember? He bought her coffee as an apology and got her home safe, twice!”

“Yeah, an apology that was long overdue if you ask me! Hyunjin hasn’t done anything to be apologizi–”

“Hyunjin is just a nice guy and that’s why you think she should settle for him, because the risk of getting hurt is really low if she sticks to the safe option but that is romanticism! Why should she settle for a passionless relationship?”

“And fighting and making up and fucking isn’t romanticism?! What is this, the foryou page of booktok promoting red flags as erotica?”

“Unlike some, I know basic decorum. I also know that chemistry wins over compatibility. So, Kyo, the real question is; how does defeat taste, seeing as you’ve already feasted on it without even knowing?”

They left no room for you to interrupt or stop their quarrel and by the time you successfully managed to get in a word they were both on their feet, noses almost touching. Keeho’s glare was sharp enough to cut through bread while Dasom wore a teasing smirk, giving her the appearance of a sly fox. 

They reminded you an awfully lot of you and Mingi, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the thought. It amazed you how even with a lacking presence, he still managed to get on your nerves.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[girlgrouptrash101]

To-Do List

(There's around 125? ish requests here I think)

yet still not a single f(x) request I could cry

Groups

9Muses:

Kyungri smut

AOA:

Yuna as Your Girlfriend

Seolhyun as Your Girlfriend

Hyejeong as Your Girlfriend

Blackpink:

Dating Poly!Jennie X Nayeon

Rosé fluff

Jennie fluff

Lisa as Your Girlfriend

Jennie smut

CLC:

Sorn as Your Girlfriend

Elkie as Your Girlfriend

Seunghee as Your Girlfriend

Seungyeon as Your Girlfriend

Seungyeon smut

Cosmic Girls/WJSN:

Dating Poly!Eunseo X Yeoreum

Bona as Your Girlfriend

How WJSN would spend a lazy day with their S/O

Luda as Your Girlfriend

Seola as Your Girlfriend

Mei Qi as Your Girlfriend

Yeonjung as Your Girlfriend

Dia:

Chaeyeon as Your Girlfriend

Huihyeon as Your Girlfriend

Dreamcatcher:

Dating Poly! Dami X Handong

Dreamcatcher reaction to their S/O wanting to be choked/dominated

Gahyeon smut

JiU as Your Girlfriend

Dami as Your Girlfriend

Handong fluff

Dating Poly!JiYoo

Sua smut

Dating Poly!JiU X Sua

Gahyeon as Your Girlfriend

Dreamcatcher Reaction to their S/O being self conscious of their body

Everglow:

Mia as Your Girlfriend

Aisha as Your Girlfriend

Exid:

Junghwa as Your Girlfriend

Fromis_9:

Saerom as Your Girlfriend

Saerom X Chaeyoung fluff

Jiwon as Your Girlfriend

Chaeyoung as Your Girlfriend

Nagyung as Your Girlfriend

Jiheon fluff

Gyuri as Your Girlfriend

Hayoung fluff

Fromis_9 Reaction to their S/O falling asleep on their lap

Fromis_9 reaction to their S/O always buying them random gifts

Girlfriend!Saerom on Instagram

Jiwon fluff

Gfriend:

Sowon as Your Girlfriend

(G)I-DLE

Soyeon smut

Soyeon smut (X2)

Dating Poly!Minnie X Yuqi

Soyeon smut (X3)

Soojin smut

Soyeon smut (X5)

(G)I-DLE Reaction to being jealous

Soyeon smut (X6)

Dating Poly!YuYeon

Miyeon as Your Girlfriend

Shuhua as Your Girlfriend

Soojin smut (X2)

Girls Generation/SNSD:

Dating Mommies!TaeNy

Yuri as Your Girlfriend

Gugudan:

Mina as Your girlfriend

GWSN:

Miya as Your Girlfriend

Hinapia:

Minkyung as Your Girlfriend

Itzy:

Ryujin fluff

Itzy reaction to having a tall S/O

Chaeryeong fluff

Itzy reaction to their S/O fainting

Itzy reaction to their S/O dancing to their song

Iz*one:

Dating Poly!Hyewon X Hitomi

Minjoo as Your Girlfriend

Yujin fluff

Iz*one as moms

Yena as Your Girlfriend

Chaewon as Your Girlfriend

Loona:

How Loona would kiss/make out with their S/O

Chuu as Your Wife

Yves Moodboard

Gowon fluff

Yves smut

Dating Poly!YveSoul

ChuuVes smut

Loona as Moms

Dating Poly!Yves X Sunmi

Dating Poly!HyeWon

Dating Poly!2Jin

Choerry Moodboard

Jinsoul fluff

Olivia Hye fluff

Olivia Hye fluff (X2)

Lovelyz:

Yein smut

Mamamoo:

Dating Poly!MoonSun

Mamamoo reaction to their S/O being drunk

Mafia!Wheein fluff

Oh My Girl:

Oh My Girl's kinks

YooA as Your Girlfriend

Arin as Your Girlfriend

Red Velvet:

Dating Poly!WenRene

Dating Poly!YeRene

Red Velvet Reaction to one of their members having a crush on their S/O

Irene fluff

How red velvet would cuddle their S/O

Irene smut

Seulgi smut

Irene fluff

Red Velvet reaction to someone flirting with their S/O

Girlfriend!Irene on Instagram

Sistar:

Dating Poly!Bora X Dasom

Twice:

Dating Poly!ChaeHyo

Dating Poly!DahMo

Dating Poly!Jennie X Nayeon

Twice Reaction to Their S/O not being able to sleep

Dating Poly!NaMo

Twice Reaction to Their S/O Riding Their Thigh

Sana smut

Momo as Your Wife

Mina fluff

Mina fluff (X2)

Girlfriend!Mina on Instagram

Weki Meki:

Doyeon smut

Weki Meki Reaction to Their S/O wearing their clothes

Dating Poly!DoDaeng

Doyeon fake texts

Solo Artists

Heize:

Girlfriend!Heize on Instagram

Hyuna:

Hyuna smut

Sunmi:

Dating Poly!Yves X Sunmi

[moodymoodboardskpop]

Dasom as The Red Queen 🌹

[kpop-aesthetic-edits]

#00009 - sistar 씨스타 - red aesthetic reblog and like 💞