#in the grand scheme of things shit happens it was middle school and early high school drama but god at the time it was devastating | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writesaboutbangtan17 · 7 years ago

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the right bite | 01

vampire!minghao x reader fluff, angst, and (eventual) smut

16,180 words

a/n: sooo...here’s the vampire minghao fic...it is...very explicitly halloween-themed lol...but i changed the whole concept at the last minute n it’s taken me awhile to write...so here it is in early november instead of on halloween as promised. i’m sorry. it was hard for me to get into halloween this year :( so this is my love letter and “i’ll try harder next time” to my favorite holiday. part 2 has the smut! it’s almost done n will be out in a couple of days. enjoy!!!

~ in which you fall for some guy at some party without meaning to and soon discover he’s not exactly what he says he is...

Tues., October 31st, 2017 @ Kennedy South Residence Hall, 6:24 P.M.

In the grand scheme of things, you knew that you’d been through a lot worse than this, and if history was any indicator, there was worse yet to come. But right here, right now, rolling around on your friend’s closet floor on the verge of tears—you decided this was the worst moment of your life.

Momo wasn’t of much help, of course, with all of her attention hyper-focused on her phone instead of anything you were up to. If you had only one chance to guess exactly what she was doing or be mauled to death by a bear, you'd bet your entire life that she was sexting Mina...and your suspicions were confirmed when you popped your head up out of the laundry pile you'd buried yourself beneath and caught sight of the "racy" picture that your friend was drooling over. A pout, a loose sweater, some sort of bedroom eyes. Gross.

"It's just her shoulder," you whined, "you've spent the better half of the last two years elbow deep in her front bottom and you're gonna bust a fucking nut over that?" Any other time Momo's glare would have split you in half, but after this long, exhausting month you'd had, you were impenetrable. It was a shame, really. You'd have preferred to melt under her gaze than live just one agonizing second longer.

And you couldn't believe you were feeling this low in October of all months. Sure, you'd had a few bad Marches and a shitty September or two, but you loved Halloween. You loved pumpkin spice everything and leaves falling and screaming at all the scares you knew were coming in movies you'd seen eighty times and running out of haunted houses—you lived for all that shit.

Leave it to some stupid boy to ruin your favorite time of the year.

They were always ruining everything. That's why you had, up until now, happily remained the one forever-single friend in the group.

"How dare you call my girlfriend's vagina a 'front bottom'?" was all she said, and she didn't even have the decency to admit it was ridiculous to get all hot and bothered over a selfie with some off-the-shoulder sweater action, let alone get off her ass and give you a hand trying to throw yet another costume together. You regretted helping her pack all of the boxes stacked up in the living room if this was how she was going to repay you.

Off her shoe rack, you grabbed a pair of knock-off Louboutin pumps and all you could think up in your wilted, dusty little brain was to dress up as a hooker. One of your friends had to have some sort of little metallic tube dress and faux fur jacket you could borrow, too. He’ll have to take me home tonight if I show up at the party with no underwear on, right?

"I can call my best friend's vagina whatever I want," you insisted, "do you think I could squeeze into these?" Finally, finally, Momo locked her phone and tossed it onto a pillow before coming over to kneel at your side. At last, she gave you a look filled with all the pity and shame that you deserved, and reached out to ruffle your hair in some sort of attempt at comfort.

In the softest, most tender voice she could manage, she reminded you, "No, Bigfoot, I'm like two shoe sizes smaller than you are." And with the moment effectively ruined and your mood suddenly five times worse, you dropped the shoes and threw the closest (softest) thing within reach right at her head. You didn’t even see what it was until she was trying to pull it off, only becoming more and more wrapped up in it. It was an ratty old black blanket with red lining—and there you had it, the lightbulb gone off over your head.

"Give me that!" You screeched, making frenzied grabs at the fabric. You pulled one way and Momo pulled another and if the gagging noises happening in there were any indication, you were pretty sure you were strangling her to death. She totally would have chokeslammed you when she was free of her fleece cocoon but you had that manic look in your eyes that meant trouble and she knew that one of you needed to remain calm. For once, it was her.

"I'll get the scissors and the fabric glue," she sighed before she disappeared out of the room and left you spreading the blanket out on the floor.

Thurs., October 5th, 2017 @ The Yard, 9:13 P.M.

"I can't see anything," Nayoung whined as she ran into yet another tree. The fourth, to be exact, since you’d all gotten out of her car. You'd seen her heading right for it, but out of tough love had just allowed the collision to happen before your very eyes.

"That's what you get for wanting to dress up as the three blind mice," you lectured her for the five thousandth time that night, "that shit's ableist." From her side, in a matching black dress and mouse ears and sunglasses, Minkyung flicked you off as she helped Nayoung pick leaves out of her perfectly styled red hair. The third blind mouse, Kyungwon, ran up from behind to smack you on the head with her walking stick.

"Fuck you! We look cute!" She cried indignantly when you ripped the walking stick out of her hand and threw it into the crowd. A painful yelp cut through the sound of "The Monster Mash" warbling out of speakers set up around the courtyard, and you relished in the fact that if that poor unintended victim of your frustration came looking for somebody to rip a new asshole for hitting him, his rage would be directed at one of these insufferable three.

They did look cute, but it didn't stop the concept from being any less…offensive. You, on the other hand, had gone the safe route and dressed up as Rosie the Riveter for the third Halloween season in a row. Even if you gained a few pounds over the holidays and through summer and the beginning of a new school year, all you needed to recreate the outfit was the same red bandana, a denim shirt from the thrift store, your trusty high waist jeans, and boots. It wasn't the cutest costume, or the sexiest, but it portrayed exactly what you wanted it to: you were an independent, strong woman who wasn't looking for a guy to ply her with booze and sneak her back to their dorm tonight.

Momo promised it would only attract girls, and all the women-loving-women you knew were taken for now—so you were safe. Being the forever-single friend in the group was a tough job to keep up, that was for sure, but someone had to do it. If you had to not waste money on a new costume and not have your boobs hanging out when the fall chill was coming in, then so be it. You would take one for the team.

"Where are the boys? Can you see them?" Minkyung tugged on your sleeve to ask you, and you reluctantly scanned the gyrating crowd of bodies for Seokmin and Mingyu—she and Kyungwon's boyfriends of the semester. You had only met them a few times before, when your friends dragged you out to the movies, refusing to let you spend a night in instead of being the thirteenth or fifteenth or seventeenth fucking wheel on their massive group dates. Catching sight of Seokmin and his smile by the drinks only reminded you of being introduced to him before the movie, and then having to sit through it trying to focus on the plot and the characters and the god awful dialogue instead of every one of your friends making out the whole time.

"They're over there," you pointed them out flippantly, and you were about to turn and head off in the opposite direction to find the rest of your friends when Minkyung latched onto your sleeve again and asked in a tiny voice,

"Can you take us over to them? I really can't see." You were too soft for she and Kyungwon, you knew it and they knew it and they were always using it to their advantage. Tough love wouldn’t work with them the way it worked with Nayoung, either, so you didn’t do what you should have: stolen her sunglasses and run off with them, not giving her an excuse to make you walk all eight yards or so over to their annoying boyfriends.

You didn’t know it yet, but it was over by their annoying boyfriends that your life was about to change forever—so it was pretty lucky that you’d somehow inherited two children over the course of the past year. You wouldn’t be thanking them any time soon, though. They were still juvenile, petulant little babies who had a whole lot of growing up to do.

Arm-and-arm with Minkyung, who grabbed Kyungwon to drag along behind the two of you, you made your way through the crowd. You passed Eunwoo and Hansol yucking it up, Yebin grinding with her not-a-fling-but-not-yet-girlfriend, Jihyo and Nayeon showing off their angel and devil costumes to Seungcheol and Jeonghan (Nayeon was the devil, of course.) Somewhere in the crowd, you were sure Momo and Mina were in the middle of a heated dance battle with another couple from their exclusive lesbian squad. They'd dressed up as the tap dancing girls emoji, which had been your idea, not that they'd give you the credit for it.

"Oh Y/N! I'm so happy to see you!" Minkyung sent you pleading eyes not to murder Seokmin right then and there as his screaming sent spittle flying all over your face. You didn’t, just for her. He threw his arms around your body to engulf you in a bear hug that only two people who had known each other for years, knew each other intimately and personally should share—he was a weird kid. Nice, super nice, but…too nice. Weird. Mingyu, on the other hand, went right by you to get to Kyungwon, which was much more normal and you didn’t mind at all. You’d only met them, what, twice? Three times?

You tried to shuck Seokmin's arms from around you in as friendly a way as possible, and Minkyung came to your rescue by squeezing in between the two of you and pushing her boyfriend away. Air rushed back into your lungs, free from being crushed by the lively boy, and next on your agenda was getting your hands some liquor—right there behind Kyungwon and Mingyu in a sudden liplock was the table endlessly full of glass bottles and juice to mask the alcohol with and red plastic cups.

There was a lot more vodka in your drink than the blue punch allowed you to taste, which was exactly what you were going for, and you were already feeling much more light and loose after you downed your first full cup. Had any of your friends been paying attention they might have stopped you from immediately pouring yourself another, but they were too busy with their significant others to pay you any mind—as always.

So you were a little bitter, how could you not be? You were a strong, independent woman, yes, but...kissing was kind of nice, at least from what you could remember of it. Admittedly, your romantic history was sparse. You'd gotten used to being single, it was just that seeing your friends in happy relationships made you wish you had someone's hand to hold and someone to show off a cute couple's costume with sometimes. Even bad single bitches were allowed to feel lonely every once in awhile.

"Hello there, are you alright?" And it was in that moment that the clouds parted, and God himself, should he truly exist, shone the light of the sun down on you—well that's what it felt like. It was the middle of the night. But when this new voice chimed in your ear and the sight of this handsome new face came into view, perhaps the stars twinkled a little brighter, excited just for you. This concerned stranger with golden skin that looked warm to the touch, large brown eyes, this darling round nose, and perfectly kissable petal pink lips had come at just the right moment.

"Oh, I-I'm fine?" Too bad your stupid mouth couldn't keep up with your brain and your heart that were screaming at you not to fuck this up! This was the Prince Charming you'd been waiting for, obviously. He was relieved to hear your answer, running a hand through his dyed bleach blonde hair and letting his pout relax into a grin.

"Good. It seemed that your mind had wandered off somewhere," he said. Belatedly, you noticed the pointed pearly white fangs he was wearing and the fake blood smeared across his chin, splattered onto the collar of the crisp white button-up he had on beneath a vest made of crushed red velvet. There was a pair of black slacks and shoes to compete the outfit, but what pulled it all together was the cape that he had draped over his shoulders, black lined with a rich, rosy red. You didn't miss the bat brooch pulling his collar together or the cross dangling from the ear, either.

It was a little embarrassing for you that a cliché, basic Dracula costume could seem so impressive just because it was on a man this beautiful. You weren't used to being reduced to nothing by college boys anymore.

"It...it did but...I'm back now," you explained, piecing the words together slowly, "I'm Y/N." The good-looking stranger's smile shifted again into something darker, the tips of his fangs peeking out from beneath his upper lip, as he took the hand you held out to him. When he lifted it to place a delicate kiss upon your knuckles, you didn't cringe the way you knew you would have had he been any other guy at this party.

"My name is Minghao," he offered. You repeated the name in your head a few times, then finally allowed yourself to taste it on your tongue,

"Hello, Minghao," and it tasted good. That was a name you could get used to saying, could get used to moaning underneath him in bed. The dirty thought gave your cheeks a pink tint that Minghao noticed straight away. He lowered your hand but instead of letting you go, moved to link your fingers with his.

"Would you like to dance with me?" There was no answer but yes, please, right now, f o r e v e r. He led you away from your friends, deeper into the crowd until you'd reached the exact middle of the yard, and "Disturbia" by Rihanna might as well have been a brilliant waltz with the way Minghao began to twirl and dip you down to the grass. Lucky for you that you were wearing your heavy boots instead of one of the pairs of break-your-neck heels that any of your friends had on with the way you tripped over and over again, but Minghao always scooped you back onto your feet and kept going.

It was strange, that was for sure. You should have felt embarrassed, and the two of you got your fair share of stiff stares and unkind chuckles thrown your way, but if Minghao didn't mind them than neither did you. It was just like a dream. He never took his eyes off of yours, and he never let go of your hand.

Well, not until, per standard stereotypical Halloween playlist rules, "Disturbia" faded out into "Thriller". Minghao immediately disengaged from you, grabbed you by your shoulders, and yelled over the opening sound effects, "Oh, shit, I've been waiting for this to come on all night! Stay right here, I've gotta find Chan!" Then he was sprinting through the crowd looking for this so-called Chan and leaving you behind.

Who...was that person? His name was Minghao, he was dressed as a vampire, and one second he was acting like a Victorian prince straight out of a an old English romance novel but the next he'd reverted right back to the average frat boy you knew he had to be. Still, you waited. At least his sudden shift in behavior was just to excitement and wonder instead of to that of some sleazy fuckboi trying to to get in your pants.

"It's close to miiidnight and something evil's lurking from the dark…" Michael Jackson was singing as Minghao returned with this short, bright-eyed boy, definitely a freshman, and the pair of them immediately stepped into choreography that there was no way they hadn't prepared beforehand. You honestly didn't know what to do or what to say, just stood with wide disbelieving eyes as they perfectly mirrored each other's moves, a tick of the head here and a two step there and thrusts all over the place.

And yet the most mystifying part was when Mingyu and Seokmin came jogging over and started dancing, followed by Hansol and Jeonghan and a few other guys from their frat. As shameless as ever, Nayeon threw herself into the mix, picking up on the moves quickly, and Minkyung and Kyungwon stood beside their boyfriends showing them what to do. It was like watching a scene from a cheesy 80's movie play out in real life—too bad you didn't fit into any of the cheesy 80's movie stereotypes.

The least surprising part was when Momo and Mina ran by you to join the fun, but as soon as they turned and saw you attempting to be nothing more than a peaceful spectator to this performance, Momo grabbed your hand to pull you in. "You know I can't dance," you hissed as Mina grabbed your arms to move into the right position, "God, this is why I hate you guys so much!"

"You're doing great," you heard Minghao say, and behind Momo there he was, but he was faced away from you pulling off the perfect moonwalk for the crowd. Holy shit, you hoped this was all just a weird dream, because if that wasn't the case you were going insane and imagining the voice of some guy you'd just fucking met in your head.

You let Mina and Momo puppet you through the whole routine, until the ending narration was echoing through the yard and they let you go. Before you could escape into one of the nearby houses to hide in the bathroom until you woke up, you felt the telltale tug of Minkyung grabbing your sleeve.

"Minnie, I really can't talk right now," you were saying as you turned around, "I've gotta get out of here, I think I've finally gone off the deep end and made up everything that's happened over the past twenty minutes in my—" She wasn't standing there alone. Seokmin was at her side, of course, so was Kyungwon, and Mingyu was coming up behind her with his arm thrown around Minghao's shoulders, the two laughing like old friends.

"Y/N! What did you think?" Minghao asked as they approached you, and he was so eager to hear your praise that you couldn't just duck out to make the getaway you so desperately wanted to.

"It was amazing," you said, and you meant it, even though your heart had been filled with dread and confusion and panic for much of it. And that's when he slammed the final nail down into your metaphorical coffin—the son of a bitch giggled. It was a twinkling sound, one that skipped into your ear and danced around while it embedded itself into your brain, swam through your bloodstream so that it could take a dip in your heart. He giggled and you were gone—gone for him.

"I know it was kind of silly," he said quietly, so that only you could hear, "but dancing is one my simpler pleasures." The shift back to the language and speaking rhythm of this classic gentleman you'd first met gave you whiplash. At a loss for words, you could only present a soft smile and nod, and let him take your hand back into his. From the corner of your eye, you saw Minkyung's jaw literally drop at the sight—now that you thought about it, she'd never really seen you flirting with or getting any attention from a guy, and especially hadn't seen you turn into complete and utter mush for one.

Just as she was lurching forward to grab you and demand answers, Minghao whispered, "Would you like to find some place quiet to talk?" into your ear, and he was whisking you away. One of the houses further from all of the action had a porch swing swaying lightly in the breeze that he led you to, and when you were finally alone you had so many questions that you wanted to ask him: Why did he talk like that? How did he know Mingyu? Did he make that Thriller choreography himself? Where did he learn how to waltz? Who was Chan? Why did he dress up as a vampire?

(He pulled it off, of course, but to settle for a default vampire was kind of lame. Minghao didn't seem lame.)

You didn't ask any of those questions, though. The two of you settled down onto the swing and he smiled down at you leaned against him and all you could say was, "You're an...interesting guy, Minghao."

"That's one way of putting it," he laughed, and then his laugh tapered off into a warm, pleasant silence. The swing rocked you back and forth and you might have fallen asleep if Minghao's presence alone didn't make you feel like you were at the end of a live wire, packed with all this energy that only wanted to direct itself into one action—kissing the hell out of him.

You considered for just a second that maybe he could read your mind when he bent down to bring his face closer to yours, but you quickly abandoned that thought so you could concentrate on only what was so physically him. He had one arm curled around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, and his other hand found its place resting on your thigh. Both of your own hands gripped tight onto the lush fabric of his vest, knuckles turned white with anticipation.

He was so close, and you let your eyes close just as his lips were about to touch yours...but at the last second, you felt a finger on your chin turning your head to the side, and his nose brushing along your collar. You'd never felt so much before like your heart was going to beat out of your chest as the tip of his nose traced a line along your collarbone from your chest to your shoulder, than back up your shoulder and your neck to your jugular.

With his nose and lips against your throat, Minghao inhaled as deeply as if he'd just come up after a trip to the bottom of the ocean for that first sweet breath of fresh air.

You didn't see it happen, didn't feel the swing move or feel his hands slipping from his hold on you—you must have been just that lost in your thoughts and the overwhelming bliss of the moment. One moment Minghao and you were nearly melded into one being beside each other, and the next he was on the opposite end of the porch, breathing as heavily as a marathon runner at the finish line.

It took a few blinks and steady breaths of your own to disconnect from what had just almost happened and come back to reality, but when you did and saw him gasping and clawing at the air for something to grip onto, you felt a physical ache in your chest. Why did he look so scared?

"Minghao, are you okay? What happened, what's wrong?" You were back on your feet hurrying over to him, but instead of letting you back him into the corner, Minghao hopped over the banister and landed gracefully back on the grass behind him.

"Did I...did I do something wrong?" You asked, because that's what it fucking seemed like if he couldn't so much as bear to be within two feet of you all of a sudden. He was backing up slowly, wiping his palms against his pockets, stammering and grasping for any words to explain himself to you. You would have run off of the porch to chase after him, but you had a strange feeling that the moment you turned your back, he'd disappear.

"No, of course not," he stressed, "you didn't do a single thing wrong. I just...I just, um...I remembered something really important and I have to leave. Now. Right now." You wanted to say that you couldn't believe it, but the pesky part of your brain that knew just how repulsive you could be to the opposite sex was singing I told you so! I told you so! You'd been trying to quiet it to control your nerves this whole time, but...well, it really had told you so.

"Please, don't look so sad," Minghao said before you even realized you were frowning and glowing red with embarrassment and there were potentially tears building at the corner of your eye, "it was really so special to meet you here tonight, Y/N. I mean it." And with that, he was gone, bolting around the house and into the dark instead of back towards the party.

The mocking chant in your head died down at once. There was something about Minghao, about the way he spoke. At least to you, it was clear when what he was saying was the truth or a lie. 'I remembered something really important and I have to leave right now,' was an obvious excuse for...something. But 'It was special to meet you tonight, I mean it'? You'd never heard anybody sound so honest before.

You untied your bandana from around your head to dab away your useless tears, and felt a steely resolve settle into your chest as you walked back to your friends and remembered: Kyungwon had mentioned another party that she was meeting Mingyu at tomorrow night. Maybe Minghao would be there, and you definitely would be, too.

Fri., October 6th, 2017 @ Green Heights Residential Complex, 3:46 P.M.

"I can't believe you're going to that party," Minkyung whined from where she was curled up on her couch, "that party that he's going to be at." You ignored her while you spooned the comfort ramen you'd rushed over to make for her into a few bowls for the two of you and Kyungwon, who was sitting on the counter speaking in hushed tones over the phone with Mingyu. The two of them couldn't go a single afternoon without drama.

"First of all, you broke up with him, so how is he the bad guy?" You asked as you set her helping down in front of her on the coffee table. She slid down onto the floor and immediately started slurping noodles into your mouth, not bothering to thank you or answer your very reasonable question. Which was fine, that was just how you knew that she knew you were right.

"Secondly, ex-boyfriend of yours or not, Seokmin is a decent dude. I'm not going to put him on some blacklist to avoid like the plague just because you decided you think he's gay or something," you continued. Minkyung huffed into her bowl, making the broth splatter over the rim and onto the table. Trained as you were, you reached over to wipe it up with your own napkin.

"You should have seen him with that Soonyoung guy!" You had seen him with 'that Soonyoung guy', whom he introduced to both of you as one of his best friends. They had gotten into an argument with each other about which one of them looked more handsome in their costumes, which you hadn't even realized were a pair before you saw them together—Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy. Seokmin thought the clam shell bra accentuated Soonyoung's figure—you knew because he'd said so approximately thirty times.

Soonyoung, for his part, gushed over how the blue latex of Seokmin's gloves really brought out the color of his brown eyes. They truly belonged together.

"Maybe they're just good friends?" You said, "Or maybe he's bisexual? Or pan? I don't know, Minkyung, but you made an assumption and I'm not gonna judge the guy based on your crazy ideas." You were leaning more towards him having an attraction to men than not. There was something about the way he'd slapped Soonyoung's ass at one point that seemed explicitly non-platonic.

"Last and most importantly," you concluded around a mouthful of chicken, "is that it's not his party and I'm not going for him."

"Then why are you going? You don't even like parties, you just go there to babysit us," Kyungwon made a good point as she came back into the room with her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder and her bowl of ramen cradled safely in her arms. She dropped down onto the couch where Minkyung had been, throwing her legs into your lap, and waited expectantly for your answer.

You weren't going to give her one, of course, especially not with Mingyu on the phone since he and Minghao were apparently so chummy. All you could do was shrug and stuff your mouth full to avoid having to explain yourself.

"It's because of that guy! The one who started the Thriller dance!" Minkyung was hopping around on her toes at the realization, self-pity and irritation forgotten as she remembered seeing you disappear with Minghao. Somehow it had slipped her mind until just now, since she hadn't mentioned it at all once you returned to the party after he left. Actually, that had been around the time that Soonyoung made an appearance and ruined her night.

"What guy? Is she talking about Minghao?" You heard, just barely, from the speaker of Kyungwon's phone. The name sparked a light in her eyes that struck fear in your poor old heart. With reflexes you didn't even know you had, you managed to safely put your bowl down before flinging yourself on top of your friend, grabbing her phone, punching the red button that you knew would end her call, and throwing it behind you somewhere, anywhere away from her.

"Oh, my god," she didn't even care that you'd done all of that, and that was how you knew you were really in for it, "you're into Xu Minghao."

"Wait, the Chinese exchange guy? The astronomy major? That's who you were with last night?" It was unfair the way all those tidbits of information slapped you in the face and rendered you unable to make a hasty retreat while they all three were filed away in your brain. So far you knew all of this about Minghao: His last name was Xu, he was an astronomy major, he was from China, he could dance, and he talked funny. It didn't seem like enough to make your heart race the way it did any time you thought of that giggle or the feeling of his nose running along your collarbone.

"She was with him!? When!? What were they doing!?" The conversation went on around you, Minkyung explaining Minghao seeking your approval of his dance, the way you ran off together, and...the way you came back alone not too long later, and Minghao wasn't spotted again for the rest of the night.

"What was that all about?" She asked, settling down at the edge of the table in front of you and going into concerned guardian mode. It was rare that she did, and it always made you super uncomfortable to see her eyebrows knitted together that way and the worried frown against her cheeks.

"He ran off," you relented, "we were about to kiss and then, he just...I don't know. He got spooked and left." Minkyung sighed, taking your hand in hers and hooking an arm around your neck to bring you into a hug. Her cooing and awwing like you were a child was kind of annoying, but you appreciated that she cared about something that happened to you for once instead of all her own made up problems.

In contrast, Kyungwon laughed.

"So you're going to the party to show him what he missed out on," she decided, and you would have told her how dead-wrong she was, but your face was smooshed against Minkyung's chest and you couldn't get a word out, "I have just the costume for you to wear. He'll regret bailing on you like that."

Fri., October 6th, 2017 @ Delta Omega Delta House, 8:59 P.M.

As expected, you felt fucking ridiculous. Ridiculous, exposed, embarrassed, angry at Kyungwon (as always), angry at Minghao for starting all of this, angry at the world for letting Britney Spears' "...Baby One More Time" happen in the first place. You'd walked into this building less than five minutes ago and already two guys had tugged on your pigtails, one of them had grabbed your ass beneath your tiny black skirt, and the wolf whistles were getting out of hand. Tonight you hated your life.

At least the guy who grabbed your ass had been shoved up against the wall and threatened by Mingyu. If you had to walk around a frat party like this, you were glad to have a big guy there to back you up, even though you were pretty sure he'd never actually hurt anybody. Maybe he'd punch someone for you if he had to, but he'd definitely cry about it afterwards.

"You look hot," Kyungwon said, "stop frowning like that." It was physically impossible for you to smile at a time like this, when it felt like everyone's eyes were on you judging the way you pudged out of the cropped white button-up knotted together just beneath your chest and the way you stumbled in the patent black pumps you'd been forced into. It kind of felt like you'd be telling your therapist about this night years from now, recalling the way all of your anxieties and fears had culminated in those one awful moment.

"Y/N?" And then, like a sun ray in the dark, Minghao was in front of you to make everything okay. You were frozen a few feet away from him, but Kyungwon assisted you with a violent shove from behind until you were tumbling into his arms. He scanned your face with hard eyes, taking immediate notice of your shallow breaths and the way your own eyes were glossed over. Twice in as many nights now that you'd almost cried in front of him—how humiliating.

Once he'd finished his assessment, he immediately righted you and brought you into the kitchen, out of the spotlight. There were still plenty of people there to gawk at you, but significantly less of them. Minghao grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, then ushered you into the corner of the counter so that he could stand in front of you and shield you from your audience.

"Breathe, love," he instructed you, "deep, steady breaths. Don't be frightened." He was petting your hair back out of your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands after he handed you the bottle of water. You held it to your chest, and it was freezing to the touch but at least you could focus on that instead of the black closing in around your eyes. With the guidance of Minghao's gentle touches and his firm voice, you were anchored back to reality and found your way out of the fog of panic.

"Take a drink," he suggested, and you gulped down half the bottle. The whirring in your ears died down to become the bass of whatever song was playing in the background, the dull roar of party-goers’ conversations happening all around you. You realized no one was looking at you anymore, and it occurred to you that most of the stares had probably been because you were having an anxiety attack in the middle of a frat party—you felt so stupid.

Minghao was having none of that—"You're not stupid," he said, "you were just scared, but it's over now. I've got you." Had you said that out loud? You must have. You relaxed with his words. Another thing to add to the list of things that you knew about Xu Minghao: he was the calm in the storm.

As reassured as you felt, a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as it sunk in: you'd just almost had an anxiety attack. In the middle of a frat party. In front of Minghao. And he had to ease you out of it...so much for looking sexy and making him regret leaving you alone last night.

The suffocating feeling that you were going to die was gone, only to be replaced by mortification. It was like when Minkyung comforted you, but so much worse—it only happened because you were so weak and pitiful. But at least the shame wasn't debilitating, and you were able to squeeze out of the tiny space Minghao had put you in and get away from him.

"Uh," you started, with no idea what you wanted to say, making it up as you went, "thanks. For that. I should...I should go." There was a part of you that hoped Minghao felt like you had felt when he abandoned you last night, and then there was the larger part of you that figured he was relieved he wouldn't have to handle a girl on the verge of a mental breakdown for the rest of the night and could just enjoy the party. The look on his face as you walked away didn't give away which of those inclinations were true.

"I'll walk you to the door," was all he said, and he did just that. Mingyu perked up when he saw the two of you come out of the kitchen together, pointing you out to Kyungwon, but she recognized the look on your face and felt her heart sink. The couple was coming up behind you as Minghao opened the door to let you out, and Mingyu was complaining about having to leave already before Kyungwon elbowed him in the gut to shut him up.

"Get home, then," Minghao sighed against your forehead when he leaned down to press a gentle kiss there, "sleep well." You didn't say thank you, you didn't say goodbye, you just turned on your heel and rushed down the steps towards Mingyu's car so that Minghao wouldn't see you start to cry.

Why were you crying now? You couldn't decide if it was because you'd blown it with Minghao or because you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone at the party or because your feet fucking hurt in these shoes. Maybe it was because it'd been a long time since someone was that sweet to you, but he didn't even ask you to stay. He seemed pretty eager to get you out the door.

Mingyu didn't say anything when you were dropped off outside of your apartment building, letting Kyungwon do all the talking. She wouldn’t stop apologizing for putting you in that situation and making you uncomfortable, and that only made you feel worse. You were just about to wave her off so they could get back to the party, climb up into your apartment and stew in your self-pity, when she added, "But he's totally into you, you know that, right? Oh my God, that look on his face when he first saw you."

You hated her. You hated her so, so much for making you hopeful. You hated her for reminding you that there was another party the next night. You hated her for telling you she had an idea for a different costume—something cute, not alienating and crippling like this one. You hated her for making you promise that you'd be there for her to pick you up at 6 so that you could get ready with her tomorrow. You hated her.

Sat., October 7th, 2017 @ Club Nebula, 10:07 P.M.

"I don't think he's here," you said, again, for the thousandth time. Minkyung glared at you over her shoulder, then turned around fully to fix the cat ears tucked into your hair when she noticed they were askew.

"I know he's here, Y/N," Kyungwon said from ahead of you both, "Mingyu came here with him." It was a wonder you could hear her over the mix-up of "Despacito" and "Ghostbusters" blaring through the packed little club, but when you did you could only wonder why she didn't text and ask where he was, then. The three of you had been wandering around looking for them for the past half hour. Admittedly, you'd stopped to get drinks and dance a few times, if the music moved you.

You were back to your normal self—you couldn't for the life of you understand what the fuck had happened last night. Realistically, you knew there was no reason for you to overreact like that. Your brain was just doing it's own thing, as usual.

In your little black babydoll dress, cat ears, lace choker with the bell, and whiskers and pretty pink nose painted onto your face, you felt much more relaxed. Although your hope that he was even there was dwindling, you hoped you could fix whatever it was you had with Minghao. You'd promise that you didn't normally freak out like you had, because you didn't. You were always the one who had to be cool under pressure. And in this fantasy, he'd accept that as fact. He wouldn't bail and the two of you would bone tonight.

A girl could dream.

"Oh, there's Mingyu!" There he was indeed—it was a wonder you hadn't been able to find him this whole time with the way his head on top of his freakishly tall body stuck out above the crowd. You made your over to him at a booth in the corner, where he was stationed with some of your other friends. There was Hansol and Eunwoo wrapped up in each other, and Nayeon thrown across Jeonghan's lap, but no Minghao in sight.

There was, however, a very pale Seokmin whose wide-eyed gaze was stuck on Minkyung. She hadn't noticed him yet, as she poked Mingyu in the chest and demanded to know where his Chinese friend was.

"I dunno, I told him you guys were here and he went to dance," Mingyu shrugged, but sent a sympathetic look over her shoulder at you. You looked away, redirecting your gaze back to the mass of bodies you'd just powered your way through. "The Monster Mash" was playing—now that you thought about it, it had been playing when you got to the party last night, too. A third time around, you didn't enjoy it any more than before.

"I'll go find him," you told Kyungwon, putting your brave face on, and reentering the swarm of sweaty, smelly ghosts and Pennywises and slutty nurses and Donald Trumps. You encountered plenty of cats along the way, too, but no "...Baby One More Time" era Britney Spears costumes. There weren't any Rosie the Riveters, either.

"Here, k-kitty kitty," you heard at the same time as you felt someone tug on the tail that Kyungwon had stuck onto your skirt. You would have slapped him, or at the very least smacked his hand away—but when you saw the guy, you just felt bad for him. He wasn't bad looking at all, but he was wearing a bright yellow sweater, dark denim overalls, and a yellow beanie with blue goggles glued onto it. The poor son of a bitch was dressed as a minion.

"Wanna dance?" He was also very, very drunk, stumbling on his feet, nearly ending up on the floor a few times in just the thirty seconds you'd been watching him. You grabbed the beer out of his hand and chucked it into a nearby trash can, then got an arm around his shoulders to take him over to sit.

"What's your name, dude?" You asked once you'd gotten him out of the crowd, and through a boxy smile he told you, "I-I'm...hic...Kim Tae-Taehyung." Taehyung flopped down into the chair you found for him, then made grabby hands at you as you backed away from him.

"Nooo, stay with me," he begged, but your sights were already back on the club's horizon, scanning for that familiar head of bleach blonde hair.

"Stay right here until one of your friends finds you, alright? No more beer," you told him, "promise no more beer and I'll give you my number." He slurred out the promise faster than any normal drunk person should have been able to speak, and you rewarded him with a fake number scribbled down onto the palm of his hand. He was cute, but he was a mess. Not to mention you had already accidentally fallen head-over-heels for some other guy you barely knew. There was no time or space or energy in you for Kim Taehyung.

It was only two steps back into the masses before you saw it. She was sitting at the bar with her pretty caramel-colored hair curled out of her face, her pom-poms forgotten on the counter top beside her drink, her tiny cheer skirt spread across legs split for Minghao to nestle himself in between. You could tell it was him thanks to the black cape hanging off his shoulders and the velvet vest and the telltale blonde hair—not because you could see his face.

No, his face was buried in the crook of her neck doing God know's what to get her making that expression, eyes screwed shut and jaw hanging slack and all. You looked away before you could decide whether he was kissing or licking or biting, before you could see exactly where his hands were. Bile bubbled up in your throat, tasting like the buttery nipple you'd thrown back with the girls when you first got here.

The girls. Kyungwon. You would end her. You desperately wished she had never brought you here, had never given you false hope. You wished that you could go back in time and stay curled up in your bed feeling sorry for yourself instead of getting all dolled up again and making the drive downtown.

"I'll take you up on that dance, actually," you blurted out as you stalked back over to Taehyung, because fuck Minghao. Okay, so he wasn't your boyfriend. He wasn't even your friend, really. But what gave him the right to go fooling around with other girls when he didn't even know you were there and had no accountability towards you? What a piece of shit.

So you danced with Taehyung, who miraculously managed to stay on his feet the whole time, and tried very hard to ignore the fact that he was dressed up as a minion. At some point, you "accidentally" knocked the yellow goggled beanie off of his head, which made it a little bit easier. And he was a good dancer, even if he couldn't keep his mouth shut for a full sixty seconds.

"I was...was ssseven-years-old when my h-hamster escaped and...and got eaten by a ssstray c-cat," he informed you as he ground his dick against your ass, "that was the day I...hic...I truly learned about life 'nd death." You nodded if only so that he wouldn't ask ten times in a row if you were actually listening to him, as you'd learned he would do without any acknowledgement.

"That's great, Taehyung," you monotoned at him, turning to wrap your arms around his neck and grind against his front. He could barely talk, but the guy could body roll like a pro. Over his shoulder, you saw that Minghao and his mystery girl were long gone. It had been over a dozen songs since you and Taehyung started dancing, after all. Apparently that girl was worth taking home, you snarked instead of letting yourself feel self-conscious about it.

Of course, it wasn't just that simple to not feel self-conscious about it. What did she have that you didn't? Well, perfect hair, for one. And probably decent mental health, for another. Only a girl with decent mental health could have hair that well-styled and maintained.

"Hey," you leaned forward to say close to Taehyung so that he could actually hear you, interrupting his story about the day his sister got his first period and he learned about womanhood or something, "can we kiss now?" You figured it would distract you, and drunk or not, with a face as pretty as his, you figured Taehyung had to be a good kisser.

He didn't need to be asked twice, he barely even needed a moment to register the question before he attached his lips to yours. They were soft, that was for sure, if a little chapped. And his kiss was kind of...slimy. Then again, it had been awhile since you properly kissed somebody, so maybe you'd forgotten exactly what a kiss was supposed to feel like (you didn't think so, but you were willing to give Taehyung the benefit of the doubt).

But it just felt wrong. Kissing anybody but Minghao felt like a betrayal to your own heart, which was screaming at you to leave this club and find that asshole wherever he was and hand over the lips that were rightfully his.

Your brain rebelled at the thought—your lips weren't Minghao's. Your heart wasn't Minghao's, your soul wasn't Minghao's. He was some guy that you'd literally met barely 48 hours ago and there was absolutely no reason you should feel so hopelessly attached to him.

So you kissed Taehyung harder and tried to forget about everything else. Maybe if you cocked your head just so, teased a little tongue, ran your fingers through his hair, this would feel halfway nice? Maybe you could let him consume you and make the world melt away the way that Minghao had when he was barely even touching you?

"You taste like...salmon," Taehyung informed you the moment you had to break away for air, and yeah, this just wasn't gonna work. One grumbled curse under your breath and Uber request later, the two of you were spread out in the back of a Prius desperately trying not to throw up on this poor guy's floor. He kept nervously glancing at you in his rear view mirror, ready to pull over and drag you out of his car at less than a moment's notice.

"You're a nice guy, Taehyung," you told him as he leaned against your shoulder, every once in a while letting his eyelashes flutter in an attempt to stay awake, "and you're really hot. Sorry I'm just not into you like that."

"H-Hey, there's...there's a back road up there onnn...the left. It'll make the...hic...the drive like five minutes shorter," Taehyung said to the driver. You were substantially less drunk than he was, and figured you should get him home safe and sound before you, "and as for...as for you. Th-That's...okay. 'm not sssuper into g-girls...hic...a-anyways."

You didn't feel guilty leaving him dumped out on his driveway after that. To be fair, you didn't take off until you'd pounded on the door enough to wake up his roommate to let him know Taehyung was there, and you left him your real number. He really was a good guy. You figured he'd make a pretty good friend after you tore him a new asshole for fucking around with girls heads like that.

Not that you were any better using him to try and distract yourself from Minghao but...he didn't ever have to know about that.

[1:03 A.M.] Unknown: heu

[1:03 A.M.] Unknown: heu?

[1:03 A.M.] Unknown: heu heu heu. Y/N

[1:04 A.M.] You: stop texting me taehyung

[1:04 A.M.] Dumbass: jsut wanted too say thhnaks

[1:06 A.M.] Dumbass: heu................................................who ws that gyu u kTOE starring st........................teh one at the b ar......wsa he ur ex r sehtm,thin...............is taht wyh you sa id u wr;ent into em

Shutting your phone off was almost cathartic. With the go-ahead from your driver, you rolled your windows down and smelled the garbage piled up underneath the highway and even this shitty moment was better than any moment back at the club or any moment you might have spent explaining who Minghao was to Taehyung.

You decided you would forget the last few days ever happened. The dumb lace choker, well that was Kyungwon's, so you dropped it into your purse after you unlatched it from around your neck. When you did that, you saw the wet naps littered at the bottom of your bag, and used those to wipe off the ridiculous whiskers and nose painted across your face. The annoying ears and tail, well those you'd bought at the dollar store today for two bucks and change. With absolutely no concern for the world around you, you flung them both out the window (you'd feel bad about that later).

Clearly, the last three nights had been some sort of glitch in your timeline. All you had to do to right the world's axis was return to your normal routine tomorrow morning and convince your friends to let all of this Minghao nonsense go—easy enough. Back to being the bad ass single bitch it was, then.

Thurs., October 12th, 2017 @ the corner of South and Porter, 8:26 P.M.

"Get out of my car," Taehyung repeated himself for the eighth time (you were counting). Said car was off, and you were tucked comfortably into the passenger's seat. Taehyung had already gotten out and was leaned in where you'd left the window wide open on your side, thinking of all the ways that he could kill you right now...there were probably a dozen ways he could end it with nothing but the keys in his hands and some patience.

You'd deserve it. When he asked you to meet up for coffee a couple of days after your failed make out at the club, he probably hadn't expected for the sad single girl to latch onto him like you had. What could you say—you were going through a strange time in your life. You'd never felt quite this way before, so torn up over a guy for no particular reason.

And Taehyung, bless him, was kind enough to go on with whatever you needed at any given moment. Sunday morning you'd told him that you wanted to put everything Minghao-related of the weekend far behind you and move on, and after forcing a thorough explanation out of you, he was on board. When you sent an early morning text on Monday recanting all of your previous statements about forgetting Minghao, he was fine with that, too.

He'd never known someone who could change their mind as many times and as quickly as you did, though, and keeping up with whether or not he had to be pro or anti-Minghao at any given moment was proving to be difficult. Just a half hour ago when he picked you up to bring you to this party, you'd been deadset on finding Minghao and hashing things out with him, but now you'd anchored yourself to his passengers seat and currently stood at never wanting to see Minghao's beautiful stupid face every again.

At least that's what he thought you were trying to convey to him with your wild hand gestures and angry groans behind lips sealed tight. If he'd known you were planning on dressing up as a mime (so that you'd have an excuse not to talk to Minghao if and when you changed your mind about wanting to hash things out!), he never would have agreed to come along with you.

He had no other choice than to put the muscles that Jungkook—one of his roommates, you'd learned—had cultivated in his arms and legs to good use dragging you out of the car by force. Because he was Taehyung, he was especially careful not to scratch you against the metal or bump your head on the door as he did so. This friend you'd known for less than a week was so much nicer to you than the ones you'd known for years.

Momo and Mina were jealous of him already, mostly because they lived in your fucking head and just knew there was something Taehyung knew about you that they didn't. That's why they'd suggested you bring him along. Unbeknownst to either of you, he was soon to get the third degree from the most aggressive of lesbian power couples.

But for now things were relatively pleasant. Taehyung liked skinship, apparently, and was happy to platonically hold your hand as the two of you approached the house—Jackson Wang's place, you were pretty sure. You didn't know him that well, he was a friend of a friend of a friend of Momo's, but you did know that he was a nice guy who everybody liked and who liked everybody right back, so you weren't worried about showing up uninvited to his party.

Evidently Taehyung was also really good at forgiving and forgetting, since the car hostage incident from less than two whole minutes ago was already far from his mind. "Jackson's a Chinese exchange student, too, so Minghao will definitely be here," he told you, "ready for that?"

You sent him a thumbs-up just as the door swung open and the man, the myth, the legend Jackson Wang himself, welcomed you inside. For being someone so well-liked, the obnoxious stripper cop costume he had on really caught you off-guard, but at least he had the pecs and the abs to back it up.

"Make yourself at home, guys," he said without even getting your names, already half-swallowed whole by the horde of dancers in his living room again, "please don't fuck in my bed, though."

Jackson was already gone, but just for you, Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows and purred, "I can't make any promises."

Of all four things to do—get a drink, start dancing, head outside to smoke, or get in line for the beer pong tournament going on in the basement—Taehyung chose beer pong. "The Monster Mash" started in the living room just as you closed the door to the basement behind you and you thanked God for the dodged bullet. Once this Hell month was over, you'd do everything in your power to make sure you never heard that song again.

There were way too many people shoved into the room and too few of them that you knew, so you stayed glued to Taehyung's side as he waited. When he asked if you were going to be his partner, you shook your head frantically—there was absolutely no way that was happening. And when he asked why, you demonstrated 'why' for him by grabbing a beer cap off the floor and trying to throw it into the trash can that was barely three feet away. It was unnatural the way it flew right out of your hand and backwards, hitting whoever was standing behind you in the face.

You turned around with every intention of apologizing, truly, but as luck would have it your latest victim was none other than Minghao, rubbing the tip of his nose gently over the saddest pout on his lips. Mingyu was bent down next to him, picking up the bottle cap and looking up with venomous rage.

"Why would you throw this at---oh! Y/N! What's up what are you doing here? Who's this?" Rather than let you answer any of his questions, Mingyu held out a hand to introduce himself to Taehyung. You hadn't known Taehyung very long, but you'd already learned enough about him to know that he was somebody who instantly became everybody's best friend. Mingyu liked him immediately, you could tell by the bro-hug.

"Wait, do you live with Jungkook?" Taehyung's eyes lit up at the mention of his roommate, one who he had spent hours gassing up to you already in the less than a week you'd been friends, and he replied, "Yeah! He's one of my best friends!" Up to that point you'd kept yourself focused on Mingyu and Taehyung, pointedly ignoring Minghao who didn't bother saying anything to you, either, but it was kind of hard to keep ignoring him when Mingyu brought him directly into the conversation.

"Minghao! Taehyung lives with Jungkook! You just hung out with him yesterday, didn't you? Playing games at that internet cafe," Mingyu nudged his friend to speak up, and the word slithered out of Minghao's mouth much more quietly and with much less enthusiasm than Mingyu had,

"Yes." That was all he said, too. The other boys waited a beat longer for him to expand upon that, but Minghao stared back at them blankly until they continued their conversation without him. For what it was worth, Taehyung squeezed your hand that he was still holding as acknowledgement after hearing Minghao's name. You squeezed back to confirm—yes, this quiet, weird, handsome guy dressed up as a vampire was the Minghao.

"Hey lovebirds, you're up," someone announced as they tapped your shoulder, and Taehyung finally let go of you and wrapped up with Mingyu so that he could turn to the group amassed to watch and ask who would be his partner. Some guy with blue hair stumbled forward, "I'm only doing this because I can't find anymore beer in the kitchen," and the round began.

The new guy's name was Yoongi. He didn't offer that up on his own, no, Taehyung had to squeeze it out of him, and after that he didn't say much. The two guys on the opposite end of the table, who'd won their past four games, were apparently named Yugyeom and 'BamBam.' They easily got their first ball in, and Yoongi was happy to drink the first half cup of beer. When it was their turn and Taehyung stepped up to take the shot, Yoongi grabbed his wrist before he could.

"I was a basketball player in high school," he said coolly, "watch how it's done." It would have been funny if it wasn't so sad—Yoongi bent his knees to crouch down eye-level with the cups, lifted his hand to toss it towards the middle of the table, obviously going for a bounce shot...but the ball just fell once and rolled away. There were few times you'd ever seen a man look so devastated in your life.

"It's okay, Yoongs! We'll get it next time!" Taehyung encouraged him.

"Call me 'Yoongs' again and I'll rip your balls off," Yoongi warned.

"So Y/N," Mingyu popped up beside you as the game went on, "how do you know Taehyung?" You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking for a moment on his motives. He was Kyungwon's boyfriend and he knew that you had a weird thing going on with Minghao, but Minghao was one of his friends. Whose side was he on? And then you were mentally backtracking because there weren't sides, of course. No one had done anything wrong, you, least of all.

Relief flushed over you as you remembered—your costume. You were a mime. You didn't have to say anything. With an exaggerated sweep of your arm, you directed Mingyu's attention to your outfit. He might have recognized the black-and-white striped top as his girlfriend's, and the suspenders holding up your black jeans were Momo's. Mina had offered up the black beret on your head and done your makeup, too.

"Okay, so you're not gonna talk," Mingyu deduced, "have you known him a long time?" You shook your head. "Weeks or months?" You shook your head. "Days?" Nod. Behind Mingyu, you heard Minghao scoff and tried to temper the simmering ire in your belly at the audacity.

"Wait—is he the minion you went home with?" You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a poor imitation of the way Taehyung had earlier. When he did it, it was funny, obviously a joke. When you did it, it just seemed creepy.

"Excuse me? And when was this?" Minghao elbowed himself in front of Mingyu to ask, and Mingyu was shoving Minghao back to the side demanding to know, "Did you sleep with him? Is he even straight?" As it was, whether or not you slept with Taehyung and whenever it might have happened was none of their business. You shrugged and pulled your fingers across the seam of your lips to indicate zipping them closed.

"I won't play this game, Y/N," Minghao scolded you like your father would have, "what evening did you go home with this 'Taehyung' and—" Before he could complete his intrusive question, two groans rang out in harmony across the pong table and Taehyung was screaming at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down in place. Even Yoongi was smirking some, watching Yugyeom pluck a ball out from one of their cups and chugging the lukewarm beer.

Which was kind of gross. You were doubly glad you hadn’t played if these neanderthals were going to play the rules so literally.

"Y/N! Did you see that!" Taehyung cried, whirling around to face you, and when you held out a hand for a high five, he scooped you into a hug, instead. You could feel the heat of Minghao's stare on your back.

"Don't look now," Taehyung whispered into your ear, "but I think lover boy is about to combust. Wanna give him a show?" The next fifteen minutes went exactly according to your unspoken plan: once Taehyung made the first strike, he and Yoongi crushed the other team. Every time Taehyung landed a shot, after you'd properly overdone your applause, he would demand another hug or a kiss on the cheek, and every time you got close enough to him, he would explain how much angrier Minghao looked.

When Yugyeom and Bambam had one cup left, Taehyung beckoned you closer before he made his final shot. "I want a kiss for good luck," he pouted, but when you went to give him another kiss on the cheek, he leaned away.

"Nope, that's not what I meant," he giggled. Any one of the other girls in this room would have jumped at the chance to lay one on Kim Taehyung right now—you could see some of them tense, watching closely, at the ready in case you denied his request. They would get that opportunity, you thought, because you'd have to tell him no. The only other option was to kiss him and feel your own heart and brain fighting against you the whole time.

Not to mention, you could physically feel Minghao's warring emotions behind you as if they were your own. It was a dubious mix of wrath, shame, hurt. Whether he had any sort of romantic interest in you or not, it was upsetting to watch you show off with Taehyung in front of him. He wasn't stupid. He knew that you were doing this to get back at him, he just didn't know exactly what for.

You opened your mouth to speak your first word of the night, a firm "No," but then Taehyung was pressing the tiny plastic ball in his fingers against your lips. "I meant for the ball, dumbie," he laughed, making a quick save. At ease, you gave the ball a peck and stepped back to give Taehyung room.

The room was silent as he came to the edge of the table, closed one eye and bit his lip in deep concentration—but you only heard the cheers from halfway up the stairs as you were dragged out of there. You were presented with the sight of a half-naked Jackson leading a conga line when Minghao threw the basement door open, and it was going right by, closing you in between the door and Minghao's back.

You tapped his shoulder once, twice, three times, over and over and over again waiting for him to turn and explain himself to you, but he was just as silent as you'd been all night. You knew...you knew that you should have felt the anger, the indignation. And you could sense it coming from Minghao, but as you pressed your head against his shoulder blade and breathed in his scent—earthy, but scorched like firewood—any thoughts of revenge and resentment were silenced. Your heart was calm.

Finally the conga line passed, and more slowly, you followed Minghao out into the backyard where it was quiet. A few party-goers were passing around a blunt by a bonfire further out, but you and Minghao just settled down onto the steps. You watched him closely, watched the way he flexed his fingers against each other and worried his brow, searching for the right words to express whatever it was he wanted to tell you. When he couldn't come up with anything, he let out the breath he'd been holding all night, shrugged, and leaned back against the wall. Defeated.

"You don't have to be jealous," you spoke for the first time, and Minghao looked over at you with large disbelieving eyes, "Taehyung's mostly gay." Another moment of silence passed as you watched Minghao process this information. He open and closed his mouth a few times, as if he was answering his own questions in his head before he could ask them of you.

"We didn't sleep together, either," you filled in the blanks, and finally watched the tension flush out of his body with the way his shoulders dropped and his forehead smoothed. There it was again—that giggle that made your heart thump harder against your ribcage. Seven days since you'd heard that giggle were seven days too long.

"I wasn't jealous," Minghao lied after he cleared his throat and fixed his expression back into something blank and unreadable, "there's nothing to be jealous of. You aren't my beloved, nor am I yours." But you are. I wish I was. You couldn’t bring yourself to say as much.

Still. Here Minghao was at your side, talking to you, not running away or encouraging distance between the two of you. He was smiling and he didn't move when you leaned your head against his shoulder.

Tonight, this was enough.

Fri., October 13th, 2017 @ A Big Rock in the Middle of Woods, 11 P.M.

You liked to drink, of course. Liquor was just so good at taking the edge off or helping ease the stress of a bad day. That being said, you didn't make a habit out of getting drunk, not anymore at least. A few times blacking out and waking up in a puddle of your own puke on the floor had turned you off to that long before you turned 21.

What made tonight any different you weren't sure, but that party back there had been so boring. Momo and Mina tried to convince you not to go, and you knew that none of your friends would be there, but you'd still held out hope that Minghao would make an appearance. You'd even felt particularly good about your costume—a dark red top that you'd yellow-duck-taped the Wonder Woman logo onto the chest of, a gold belt around your navy skirt to match the gold headband holding your hair back. You'd gone so far as to dig some silver star stickers from the bottom of a desk drawer to slap all over your skirt. You knew that you looked cute, and you wanted Minghao to know it, too.

He hadn't shown up. So you drowned out your rising anxieties about being at this party alone and the chance that maybe last night was your last night, maybe he had pulled off his greatest disappearance, maybe you'd never see him again—with some rum and cokes. And there was a lot more rum than coke in your cup at all times, and no one to stop you from drinking it.

You had no idea when or how you'd wandered into these woods, either. A very fuzzy memory of walking outside and seeing them across the street from the sorority house hung around at the edge of your thoughts but never cleared up well enough for you to remember why you'd gone into them. What you could remember very clearly, though, was putting your phone behind a fish tank inside because you didn't have any pockets and you wanted to dance...but never picking it back up.

Now all you could do was sit on this big rock until you sobered up or the sun rose and hope you didn't die. You weren't sure if it was lucky or very unfortunate that you were too inebriated to be properly scared, too. Sure, the fear was there, but subdued behind the sick beat you could hear in your head that made you just want to fucking dance. Then again, that beat might have been the pulsing of a killer headache building slowly.

The only thing that really bothered you was that you were cold. It was dark and predators could be lurking in any direction, but you just wanted a jacket. You wanted a jacket so bad that you were worried you might start crying again. You really didn't want to cry. You'd cried too much in the past week.

"You have such a way of getting yourself into trouble, silly girl," and even though your drunk brain was just imagining it, his voice warmed you from the inside out. Like a true crazy person, you replied out loud to Imaginary Minghao, "I like you...lot. You...'re...so nice. Ssso...warm."

"I like you a lot, too, darling," you imagined he'd say, "now hop up and let me lead the way out of here." There was no explaining how you found your way back to the road after that, or the car that was conveniently waiting to drive you home when you did, or how your phone was waiting on your bedside table in the morning even though you were absolutely certain you'd never set foot back in the sorority house. It woke you up playing "The Monster Mash."

You chalked it up to a lot of good fortune, and thought that maybe you'd had your phone on you all along. But the warmth settled into your chest all day—that couldn't be explained. Maybe Minghao wasn't as far away as you thought.

Sat., October 14th, 2017 @ Abandoned K-Mart Parking Lot, 9:53 P.M.

"There's nothing for us to run into out here," Nayoung sighed in relief as she climbed out of the back of Seungcheol's truck, slipping her trusty sunglasses on to once again complete the Three Blind Mice outfit. Kyungwon and Minkyung came out after her, but neither was giving up hold on the walking stick they were fighting over.

"There are parking blocks, actually," you pointed out, "bright yellow. Hard to trip over unless you're some asshole wearing sunglasses in the dark." Kyungwon got the upper hand just in time to raise the walking stick to hit you again, but Minkyung grabbed her arm to stop her. You heard a small "Remember what happened last time," and felt proud of the fear you instilled in their little hearts. That was how they'd ended up having to fight over just one of them, anyways.

"And you're not an asshole for carrying around an umbrella when it hasn't rained in like a month?"

"It's part of the costume," you held up your finger to shut her up before she could argue that the sunglasses and walking stick were just a part of her costume, as well, "and it's not ableist. Everybody uses umbrellas, bitch." Your umbrella was in service of being Mary Poppins—you'd had everything you needed for it in your own closet this time, too. A derby hat that you pinned big fake flowers too, the same white button-up that had once been part of the tragic Britney Spears costume, a red bow tie, a pleated black skirt, tights, and black kitten heels. It was a wholesome costume, and that was all you could ask for after some of the others you'd experienced so far this month.

"He did the mash! He did the mooonster mash..." you heard playing in the distance. You were ready for Halloween to be over at this point.

It wasn't in the best interest of your sanity, but the six of you—Jihyo and Mingyu included—made your way across the parking lot to the crowd of people closer to the abandoned store building. There were lights put up there, and on the roof, someone was setting up a few cameras, one in the middle and two at either corner. Momo and Mina were the ones fretting over the stereo, and didn't even notice you come up behind them until you snapped the bottom of their black leotards against their thighs.

"Y/N! You actually came!" Mina gushed, throwing her arms around you in a hurried hug while Momo stayed focused on the music. "I can't really talk right now. Minghao's around somewhere, though," and she winked. There was a tick of frustration in your head but you snuffed it out for now instead of pulling your phone out to text a bunch of angry face emojis and red sirens and exclamation points at Taehyung. It wasn't entirely his fault that he'd succumbed to their charms and given in during their interrogation—the two of them were very hard to say no to.

That was part of how you'd wound up here, at the site of their impromptu flash mob-esque dance party (inspired by Minghao’s little “Thriller” stunt at the party at The Yard.) They'd been begging you for days to take part in it, and after inevitably breaking you down, Momo had delighted in teaching you the dance they put together. It brought her a special sort of joy to see just how bad you were at the thing she did best.

The other reason you were here, of course, was because you knew that Minghao would show up. How could he pass on the chance to take part in some more mass synchronized choreography? Mina pointed somewhere behind you before getting back to work, and sure enough, in that direction you could see Minghao with his friends. As if on cue, he looked up and locked eyes with you.

It was a certain magnetism that brought you all the way across the parking lot, through the crowd, and straight to him. "Y/N, love," he cooed as soon as you were in earshot, "I'm so happy that you came." There was a burst of panic as you realized that you were surrounded by all of his friends and were about to be subject to their scrutiny, but as was becoming routine, Minghao took your hand in his and you felt immediately calmed.

"My friends are going to love you," Minghao said as he pulled you closer to them, "don't be nervous. Even if they don't, I'll make them." It was a promise to you and a secret threat towards them all at once, and you had no idea what he meant by that but you'd take it. One of his friends you recognized—the kid who started the Thriller dance with him. Minghao reminded you that his name was Chan before he came up behind him and kicked him right in the ass to get his attention.

"Hey, kid," he barked, "this is Y/N. Be nice." The first thing you noticed about Chan was that he was kind of short, and you remembered your immediate thought back at that first party that he must have been a freshman. The light in his eyes, the grasp he had on his will to live, reinforced that theory. It was impossible to look that alive after one full college semester.

"Y/N! Wow, I feel like I already know you. 'Hao hyung has talked about you so much and it's only been a couple of weeks. You are pretty," Chan immediately overshared, and then you got to watch him turn the cutest shade of pink and slap his hand over his mouth. Minghao, on the cooler side tonight, just rolled his eyes at him.

"Thanks, kid. You're pretty cute yourself," you told him. Chan only turned pinker. From behind him another guy jogged up, this one you didn't know, but he was almost as inhumanly beautiful as Minghao. He beamed down at you as he introduced himself,

"Y/N, I'm Jun. I'm Minghao's best friend." The accent gave him away, so much like Minghao's. He must have been one of his Chinese exchange friends. If he really was Minghao's best friend, you wanted to impress him, so you dug around deep into the dustiest recesses of your brain so that you could say,

"Nǐ hǎo, hěn gāoxìng rènshì nǐ."

Jun laughed. You weren't sure if your feelings should be hurt or you should feel victorious for getting some sort of positive reaction out of him. It had been years since you had taken a semester of Chinese Language, so of course your accent was a little rusty, but you didn't think you sounded that bad.

"No, don't look so sad!" Jun said, reaching forward to push the corners of your lips back up into a neutral state. If it was any other stranger there was no way they were getting their hands on you, but again—he was Minghao's best friend. You needed him to like you.

And Minghao, this wonderful lovely perfect boy you'd found, he pushed Jun's hands away for you. "No touching," he deadpanned. The way Minghao said it, it wasn't a joke. It was a rule. Jun raised them up in surrender, taking a full two steps back to put some room between you and himself.

"Soonyoungie's helping some of the kids over there," Jun cocked his head to the left, at a few of the boys in their group clumped up together to the side. Minghao gave him a short nod, a terse look that you couldn't exactly read—just something to get across that they were going to have a very serious talk later and Jun was probably going to come out of it grievously maimed.

"I'm sorry about him," Minghao said quietly as you walked towards his other friend, "He's normally alright. Has no couth, though. Too forward." For the first time since you'd met (not that it'd been long since then), Minghao looked...embarrassed. His lips were pursed, pulled tight at the edges, and the tips of his ears were red. God, he was so cute.

"It's okay. He's not that bad," and you meant it. You hadn't gotten enough out of him to make an appropriate judgement call, but he couldn't possibly be any more annoying than your own friends. You already dreaded the day that you had to properly introduce him to them. Momo and Mina would tear him apart. Minkyung and Kyungwon would probably call him "dad."

"Well there's only one more of them you have to meet," Minghao told you, "but he's...a lively one. Unique. Always starting little slapstick comedy bits and scaring people off before they realize he's just joking." That all sounded...new. Certainly not like any of your friends. But not...bad. Manageable, at the least.

"Minghao, thank God you're here! Joshua, he just. He just can't dance and I don't know what to do," came a voice from within the clump of boys, one that you distantly recognized from somewhere. You realized too late from where. The sight of him, those squished eyes and that bright pink hair and Seokmin glued to his side—you'd only met him once, but you'd have recognized Soonyoung anywhere. Minkyung had only made you look at every single picture she could find of him on social media when she stalked him the day after she broke things off with his extra special friend.

"I can do the backpack kid dance," the guy who must have been Joshua said, but who gave a shit, you were in the middle of a crisis here. One of Minghao's closest friends was Public Enemy Number One as far as Minkyung was concerned—if she you speaking to him from wherever she was lurking right now, she'd skin you alive.

Minghao was gently pushing you forward to him, giving you an encouraging smile, and you didn't know what to say to him. "That's—he's—Soonyoung is—but Seokmin, and Minkyung—I'm going to die," you sputtered. It just wasn't fair. Making a good first impression to Minghao's friends was an important piece of this puzzle, of cracking his code, of your scheme to make him love you, and it was going about as badly as it could at this point.

"Yes. Soonyoung is, but Seokmin and Minkyung, you're going to die," Soonyoung joked, and you knew it was good-natured but you really felt like your life was in danger. Seokmin, the big dumb idiot, was just staring at you wide-eyed and frozen and probably close to pissing his pants. Time stood still.

"'Hao, can your girlfriend dance?" Soonyoung asked all of the sudden, looking past you at him, but he didn't give him the chance to answer before he grabbed you and pulled you over to Joshua, positioning you between him and some other kid. You'd seen the other guy hanging out with Hansol and Eunwoo before...Seungkwan! Right, his name was Seungkwan. He was another nice but weird kid, so overdramatic, always trying to entertain.

"Never mind, I know you can't," Soonyoung said, "I saw you at The Yard. It's okay, Young Padawan. Let the master teach you." Minghao had already saved you so often in such little time, but back where you'd left him he was just smirking and shrugged, leaving you all on your own.

"Okay, everybody! From the top! 5, 6, 7, 8!" Momo had made you repeat the dance dozens of times until she was sure it was embedded into your brain, but in the moment, nothing came to you. There were too many things to do with your hands, T's and L's and antennas and crying motions and knocks. As for anything you were supposed to do with your feet—God help you.

Joshua actually seemed to be doing well. You were tempted to reach a leg over and trip him when he did some sort of...spin...kick...thing, but kept that desire bottled in. It wouldn't be very becoming of you to sabotage an innocent bystander to your failings just because he could do what you couldn't. You managed to do one or two moves here and there, but for the most part stood still while the others literally danced circles around you.

"That was...wow," Soonyoung said when they'd all finished, and pointedly wasn't looking in your eyes, "On second thought, Joshua, you're not that bad! Minghao, your girlfriend, she...help her." If looks could kill Soonyoung would have been six feet under already. You'd never seen a glare quite as cutting and fierce as Minghao's, and were suddenly sure that the glares he'd given you the other night with Taehyung were Glare Lites™.

Stumbling away from the others, you managed to mumble, "I'm not his girlfriend," before Minghao scooted you away to save you anymore shame. He looked pretty shameful, himself, kicking his feet into the ground in a rare display of bashfulness and uncertainty.

"I apologize for their behavior," Minghao sighed, playing with your fingers but unable to look you in the eye, "they're not usually like this. Soonyoung is typically much more agreeable and light-hearted. I forget how he can be when he goes into Coach Kwon mode."

"Is he gay?" You really hadn't meant to say that out loud™especially not as obnoxiously as you did. You hoped Minghao knew you weren't asking because of any outdated gay stereotypes or anything, either. Just to be sure, you rambled on, "Just wondering. My friend Minkyung, she was dating Seokmin for a couple of months? But she broke up with him when she saw the way he acted with Soonyoung at The Yard and like. Have you seen them? They seem pretty into each other. I dunno, they touch each other's butts a lot. Dunno if there's some sort of 'no homo' nonsense going on there but, uh. Uh."

Minghao blinked at you a few times, waiting to be sure you were done. For good measure, you added, "Sorry. I probably sound crazy, it's all Minkyung. I'm sorry. I'll shut up now." When he was sure you had nothing left to say, Minghao reached up to brush some of your hair behind your ear as he laughed. It wasn't a laugh like Jun's, stuck somewhere between mean and endeared and ultimately a mystery to you. No, Minghao sounded...smitten.

Score.

"He does like boys," Minghao said, "and girls, too. Sexuality has become much more fluid over the years, you know. I personally find that most people like at least a little bit of both. Like your friend. Zae-ung, or whatever his name was." He was fussing over you now, adjusting the bowl hat on your head and fixing your bow tie, finding any excuse to keep his hands on you.

You leaned closer to him. "Chan...he was alright," you decided.

"I like him. You don't come across humans as bright as he is very often," Minghao agreed, and if you weren't so taken with him in this moment, with his soft gaze and tentative touches, you would have found his choice of words somewhat strange.

Minghao's hands, wide palms and long fingers, were wrapped around your waist now. The music that had been playing quietly from the stereo this whole time suddenly came to life through speakers littered all across the parking lot, some girl group song that you didn't recognize, and if you listened hard enough you could hear Momo screaming at everybody to start dancing.

Orders from Momo were orders that could not be disobeyed. Much like the first night you'd met, Minghao guided you in some sort of simple ballroom dance, and just like before you were taken to another place. The party-goers around you faded away, there were no more flood lights blaring down upon you, the annoying song drifted into nothing. It was just you and Minghao and his hands on your hips and that earthy, burnt smell that was home to you now.

"I'll talk you through the choreo," Minghao promised quietly, leading you to the side of the crowd, and you noticed everyone subtly getting into position. With the way Minghao was smiling at you, you didn't even have the chance to be scared of what was to come. As long as Minghao kept looking at that, you felt safe. Nothing could go wrong.

Of course, he chose that exact moment to let you go and wander away. You grabbed after him, but the abrupt sound of a record scratch stopped you in your tracks, and then the opening synth chords of none other than "Thriller" again. Were there any other Halloween songs besides Thriller and The Monster Mash? You'd have to look into that when you had the chance.

"Kneel down, love," and there in your head was Minghao's voice again. You really must have been going crazy, imagining him saying he'd talk you through the choreo and then hearing his voice telling you the moves instead of Momo's, the way you'd learned it. By some twist of fate, you managed through the Thriller section of the dance with simple cues from 'Minghao' to “zombie walk” or to do “the thriller claws, you know the ones.”

When the song switched you ducked down to hide behind the nearest person and started crawling out of the camera's frame. There were lines of duct tape to indicate where the edge of said frame was, and you could only breathe again once you were safely past. You prayed that you'd managed to stay out of view on the journey over here—Momo would have no qualms about literally murdering you if you ruined she and Mina's video like that.

They were at the front breaking and doing whatever sort of flips and spins they did—you had no idea, you knew absolutely nothing about dancing. The two of them were dance majors, met in the studio, fell in love with each other through the way they moved. To them, dancing was as second nature as walking. They just couldn't understand how it was so much harder for you.

But your attention wasn't on them, no, your eyes were drawn only to Minghao. He hadn't even broken a sweat. At one point the music dropped out, and most of the dancers fell to the ground. A hollow, tinny beat kept on to which just a few of the dancers kept going—including Minghao. You could hear his voice in your head saying what each move was as he did them:

"This is a kick step," "A side spin," "The windmill."

There was absolutely no way you could have known what the names of those dance moves were, even if Momo had ever mentioned them. You never would have remembered or been able to connect the name to the move. A shiver trailed up your spine, goosebumps rising all over your arms. The clouds parted overhead. It was a full moon, and for the first time it occurred to you that there was something...off. About Minghao.

The light of the moon reflected off of him so brightly and you used that as an excuse to look away from him, but only when the music was fading out and the official choreography had ended. The way he moved was hypnotizing and you couldn't bear to turn your back on him before he'd finished. A normal song came back on, some Top 40's hit, and everyone transitioned seamlessly back into their twerks and sways and grinds.

You saw the red lights on all of the cameras go off, and finally felt free to move again. Minghao had spotted you on the sidelines and was practically floating across the ground with this wide, effortless smile—but you looked back at him with the most blank face you could manage, blocking out the warmth coming in at the edge of your subconscious, and he halted halfway to you. It felt like he was miles away.

You wanted nothing more than to cross that distance and let him sweep you into another waltz and not care about any of the things he did, the things he said, that just seemed...out of place. Unfortunately, you couldn't un-realize what you had. You raised your hand in a weak wave to him, one that he didn't return, before rushing off into the maze of cars to get away. He didn't follow.

Curled up in bed that night, there was a lot to think about. The only thing you knew for sure was that no matter what, you weren't scared of Minghao. Whatever he was, whatever he could do, you knew he'd never hurt you.

But there had been light conversation while you'd danced with him, most of it forgettable as it were, and one thing was sticking out now that you were as far away from Minghao as you could be and clear of his influence: he'd given you a good once over, asked who exactly you were supposed to be. "Mary Poppins, duh," you told him, and watched his eyes alight with recognition.

"Oh, I always liked that movie. Remember seeing it in theaters, it was really something." What did that mean? It hadn't seemed like anything important or strange to you in the moment. In the moment, it was just another statement that endeared him to you even more.

But Xu Minghao was twenty, supposedly, and one Google search later, you knew that Mary Poppins had come out in 1964. It was playing in theaters thirty-four years before Minghao should have been born.

There was no way Xu Minghao could have seen Mary Poppins in theaters if he was born in 1997. There was no way you should have known the names of those breakdance moves. There was no way your phone could have ended up in your room after your trip into the woods the other night, and there was no way you should have been able to find your way out of them. There was no way a virtual stranger could simply talk you out of a panic attack. There was no way he could have gotten from that spot beside you on the porch swing at The Yard to the banister without you noticing him get up.

There was no way Minghao was human.

#minghao smut #the8 smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #seventeen scenarios #minghao scenarios #the8 scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #minghao angst #minghao fluff #the8 angst #the8 fluff #i wrote this #i shouldn't post this at like 4 a.m. but #i'm impatient #and i just!!! don't care anymore!!!#whatever BYE

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