#jo mingyu x reader

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 5.4k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter only) Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot, AGAIN. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​ @ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs

find other parts here! pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble as she looked into Seungcheol's eyes. The lead vocalist and leader of HHT stood before her, his usually melodic voice now tight with concern and something that sounded like barely contained frustration.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

She glanced around the hallway, acutely aware of the curious glances from passing employees. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of her father's company.

"Not here," she hissed, grabbing Seungcheol's arm and pulling him towards an empty conference room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could physically block out the complications that were piling up around her.

"What's going on?" Seungcheol demanded as soon as they were alone. "Mingyu showed up at our dorm this morning looking like he'd been hit by a truck. He's refusing to talk to anyone, and we have that radio interview in a few hours."

Y/N closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. She'd been so focused on protecting herself that she hadn't considered how her decision might affect the band. "I... we ended things," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up. "Ended things? I didn't realize there were 'things' to end. I thought you two were just..."

"Fooling around?" Y/N supplied bitterly. "Yeah, well, it turns out feelings don't always follow the rules we set for them."

Understanding dawned on Seungcheol's face, followed quickly by sympathy. "You fell for him."

It wasn't a question, but Y/N nodded anyway. "I did. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he made it clear that he didn't want anything more. So I ended it."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he shared with Mingyu when he was stressed. "Shit, Y/N. This is... complicated."

"You think I don't know that?" Y/N snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what to do. And now my father wants me to take a more active role in managing you guys, and I-"

"Wait, what?" Seungcheol interrupted. "You're going to be our manager?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not exactly. He wants me to be more involved in the management side of things. Apparently, I 'understand your demographic' better than the older executives."

Seungcheol let out a low whistle. "Talk about adding fuel to the fire. How are you going to manage that with... everything else going on?"

"I have no idea," Y/N admitted, slumping into one of the conference room chairs. "I never wanted this, Cheol. Any of it. I was happy being the party girl, the CEO's wild child. It was easier."

Seungcheol took the seat next to her, his expression softening. "Maybe it was easier, but was it really what you wanted? Because the Y/N I know is smart, talented, and more than capable of handling whatever comes her way."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. It had been a long time since someone had seen her as more than just a pretty face or a potential scandal. "I'm scared," she whispered.

Seungcheol reached out, taking her hand in his. "It's okay to be scared. But you're not alone in this, Y/N. The band... we care about you. Both you and Mingyu."

At the mention of Mingyu's name, Y/N felt her heart clench. "How is he, really?"

Seungcheol sighed. "He's hurting. I've never seen him like this before. Whatever was between you two... I don't think it was as casual for him as he let on."

Y/N's head snapped up, hope and confusion warring in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Seungcheol said carefully, "that maybe you two need to have an actual conversation. One where you both be honest about your feelings."

"I tried that," Y/N protested. "He laughed it off."

"And you immediately ended things instead of pushing the issue," Seungcheol pointed out gently. "Look, I'm not taking sides here. You're both my friends. But I think there's more to this story than either of you are seeing right now."

Y/N wanted to argue, to defend her decision. But a small part of her wondered if Seungcheol might be right. Had she been too hasty? Too afraid of rejection to really hear what Mingyu was saying – or not saying?

Before she could respond, Seungcheol's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grimaced. "That's our manager. I need to go wrangle the guys for this interview." He stood, then hesitated. "Y/N, promise me you'll think about what I said. And maybe... maybe come to our studio session tomorrow? We could use your input on some of the new tracks."

Y/N nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As Seungcheol reached the door, she found her voice. "Cheol? Thank you. For everything."

He flashed her a warm smile. "That's what friends are for. Just... don't let fear make your decisions for you, okay?"

As the door closed behind him, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling. She'd thought ending things with Mingyu would simplify her life, but it seemed to have done the exact opposite. Now she had a broken heart, a new job she wasn't sure she wanted, and the possibility that she'd misunderstood everything about her relationship with Mingyu.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a message from her father:

"Meeting with HHT's team tomorrow at 10 AM. Be there."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tomorrow, she would have to face Mingyu, the band, and her new responsibilities all at once. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

As she left the conference room and made her way out of the building, Y/N made a decision. She would go to the studio session tomorrow, as Seungcheol had suggested. She would face her fears head-on.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find the courage to have that honest conversation with Mingyu. Because if there was even a chance that he felt the same way...

Well, that was a risk she might just be willing to take.

-

Y/N stood outside the studio door, her hand hovering over the handle. She could hear muffled voices and the faint strains of music from inside. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her blazer and steeled herself. Today, she wasn't Hwang Y/N, the party girl with a broken heart. She was Hwang Y/N, the professional, here to do a job.

With that thought firmly in mind, she pushed open the door.

The chatter inside the studio immediately died down as she entered. Five pairs of eyes turned to her, but she only allowed herself to focus on one – Seungcheol's. He gave her a small, encouraging nod.

"Good morning, everyone," Y/N said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be sitting in on your session today. My father thinks it would be beneficial for me to have a more hands-on role in the creative process."

She deliberately avoided looking at Mingyu, who she could sense was staring at her intently from his position by the guitar rack.

Vernon was the first to break the awkward silence. "Cool, always good to have a fresh pair of ears. We're working on the bridge for the title track. Want to hear what we've got so far?"

Y/N nodded gratefully, taking a seat next to the sound engineer. As the music started playing, she allowed herself to get lost in the melody, analyzing the composition and arrangement. This, at least, was familiar territory. She'd always had a good ear for music, even if she'd never pursued it professionally.

As the song progressed, she found herself nodding along, impressed by the intricate harmonies and the way Seungcheol's powerful vocals blended with the instrumental. But something was off in the bridge – the guitar riff didn't quite mesh with the rest of the arrangement.

When the song ended, Y/N cleared her throat. "That was great, guys. Really solid work. But I think the bridge needs some tweaking. The guitar part feels a bit... disjointed."

She saw Mingyu stiffen out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on Seungcheol.

"What do you suggest?" Wonwoo asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "Maybe if we simplified the riff a bit? Something that complements Seungcheol's vocals rather than competing with them."

There was a moment of silence, and then Mingyu spoke for the first time. "And what would you know about composing guitar parts?"

His tone was cold, almost challenging. Y/N finally allowed herself to look at him, keeping her expression neutral despite the way her heart raced at the sight of him. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but still unfairly handsome.

"I may not be a guitarist," Y/N replied evenly, "but I know what sounds good. And right now, that bridge doesn't flow with the rest of the song."

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, but Seungcheol cut him off. "She's right, Gyu. I was thinking the same thing, but I couldn't put my finger on why it wasn't working. Let's try simplifying it."

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might argue further. But then he shrugged, turning back to his guitar. "Fine. Let's hear your ideas then, Y/N."

The way he said her name, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, made Y/N wince internally. But she pushed through, working with the band to refine the bridge. To her surprise, once they got past the initial awkwardness, the creative process flowed smoothly. Even Mingyu, despite his obvious reluctance, contributed valuable ideas.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself relaxing into her role. She offered suggestions on vocal arrangements, helped fine-tune lyrics, and even hummed out a melody idea that Vernon quickly turned into a catchy hook for their b-side track.

It wasn't until their manager called for a lunch break that the comfortable bubble of creativity burst. As the others filed out of the studio, chatting about where to grab food, Y/N hung back, gathering her notes. She was so focused on avoiding being alone with Mingyu that she didn't notice Seungcheol had stayed behind until he spoke.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/N looked up, offering him a small smile. "No, it wasn't. You guys are incredibly talented. It's... it's an honor to work with you like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened. "You're good at this, Y/N. Really good. Have you ever thought about pursuing music production?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It was always just a hobby. Besides, my father has other plans for me."

"Maybe it's time to make your own plans," Seungcheol suggested gently. Then, after a pause, "Mingyu was watching you, you know. When you weren't looking."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to shrug nonchalantly. "We have to work together now. It's bound to be awkward for a while."

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, the studio door opened and Mingyu walked in, stopping short when he saw them.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Forgot my phone."

The tension in the room was palpable as Mingyu retrieved his phone from beside his guitar. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on her notes, hyper-aware of his every movement.

As he turned to leave, Mingyu paused. "The bridge sounds better now," he said stiffly, not quite looking at Y/N. "Good call."

Before she could respond, he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him.

Y/N let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Give it time. And maybe... maybe try talking to him? Outside of work?"

Y/N shook her head firmly. "No. It's better this way. Clean break, professional distance. It's the only way this can work."

As they left the studio to join the others for lunch, Y/N repeated those words in her head like a mantra. Professional distance. It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so wrong? -

The atmosphere in the practice room was thick with tension, the usual easy banter replaced by an uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of instruments being tuned. Seungcheol watched as Mingyu stole yet another glance at Y/N, who was studiously avoiding eye contact as she reviewed some paperwork in the corner. The leader of HHT sighed inwardly, knowing that something had to give.

For weeks now, Seungcheol had noticed the change in dynamics between Mingyu and Y/N. The playful flirtation that had once been a constant source of amusement (and occasional exasperation) for the band had vanished, replaced by awkward silences and stilted interactions. It was more than just personal drama – it was affecting the band's chemistry, and as the leader, Seungcheol knew he had to do something.

"Alright, let's take it from the top," Seungcheol called out, hoping that focusing on the music might alleviate some of the tension.

As they launched into their latest single, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice how Mingyu's usually flawless guitar work seemed off. The tall guitarist kept missing cues, his rhythm slightly out of sync with the rest of the band. Every time this happened, Mingyu's eyes would dart to Y/N, as if seeking her reaction, only to quickly look away when he realized she wasn't even watching.

Y/N, for her part, seemed determined to focus solely on her work. She sat in the corner, ostensibly reviewing marketing reports, but Seungcheol noticed how her pen hadn't moved on the page for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, when she thought no one was looking, her gaze would flicker to Mingyu, a mixture of longing and hurt in her eyes.

After an hour of subpar practice, Seungcheol called for a break. As the other members dispersed, grabbing water bottles and checking their phones, he pulled Vernon and Wonwoo aside.

"We need to talk about the Mingyu-Y/N situation," he said in a low voice, guiding them to a quiet corner of the room.

Vernon nodded, relief evident on his face. "Thank god someone said it. The tension is killing me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells every time they're in the same room."

Wonwoo frowned, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of strain. "It's affecting our performance too. Did you hear Mingyu during that bridge? I've never heard him miss those notes before."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up when stressed. "I know. That's why we need to do something. I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help."

As Seungcheol outlined his plan, Vernon's eyes widened in disbelief while Wonwoo's narrowed in thought.

"Fake dating?" Vernon whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mingyu wasn't within earshot. "Isn't that a bit… I don't know, dramatic?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But subtle hasn't been working. Those two are too stubborn for their own good. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire."

Wonwoo nodded slowly. "It could work. But are you sure Y/N will agree to it?"

"Leave Y/N to me," Seungcheol said, a determined glint in his eye. "For now, I need you two to help set the stage. Can I count on you?"

Both Vernon and Wonwoo nodded, though Vernon still looked a bit uncertain. As they broke apart, returning to their instruments, none of them noticed Mingyu watching them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Later that week, Y/N was working late in her office, the soft glow of her desk lamp the only light in the room. She rubbed her eyes, tired from staring at spreadsheets all day. As she reached for her coffee mug, a soft knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called, straightening up in her chair.

Seungcheol poked his head in, an unusually serious expression on his face. "Got a minute?"

Y/N nodded, gesturing for him to sit. "What's up, Cheol? Is everything okay with the band?"

Seungcheol settled into the chair across from her, his usually relaxed posture tense. "Yes and no. The band is fine, but… well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. "If this is about Mingyu-"

"It is," Seungcheol cut in gently. "But not in the way you might think. I have a… proposition for you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "I'm listening."

Seungcheol took a deep breath. "Look, we've all noticed the tension between you two. It's affecting the band, and frankly, I hate seeing you both so miserable."

"I'm not-" Y/N started to protest, but Seungcheol held up a hand.

"Y/N, come on. We've known each other too long for that. You're not happy, and neither is Mingyu. But you're both too stubborn to do anything about it."

Y/N slumped back in her chair, the fight going out of her. "What am I supposed to do, Cheol? He made it clear he doesn't want anything serious. I can't keep putting myself out there just to get hurt again."

Seungcheol leaned forward, his eyes intense. "What if we gave Mingyu a taste of his own medicine? What if… we pretended to date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? Cheol, that's crazy. Why would we-"

"To make Mingyu jealous," Seungcheol interrupted. "Look, I've known Mingyu for years. He's stubborn and proud, but he cares about you. A lot. I think seeing you with someone else might be the push he needs to confront his feelings."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. The idea was tempting, but… "But what about the band? And my position? Wouldn't it complicate things even more?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But it could also solve our Mingyu problem. Plus, it might help deflect some of the pressure from your dad about taking things seriously. Dating the lead singer of HHT? That's a power move in the industry."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I care about both of you," Seungcheol said sincerely. "And I hate seeing you two dance around each other like this. So, what do you say? Want to be my fake girlfriend?"

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N nodded. "Okay. Let's do it. But we need to set some ground rules…"

Over the next few days, Seungcheol and Y/N put their plan into action. They started small - sitting closer during meetings, sharing inside jokes, leaving together after practice. The other band members, clued in by Seungcheol, played along perfectly.

Vernon, ever the actor, would waggle his eyebrows suggestively whenever he saw them together. Wonwoo, more subtle in his approach, would casually mention how much time Seungcheol and Y/N had been spending together lately.

Mingyu, however, was oblivious to the plan. At first, he barely seemed to notice the change in dynamics. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, alternating between trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Y/N and convincing himself he didn't care.

But as the days passed, little things started to catch his attention. The way Seungcheol's hand would linger on Y/N's back as they walked into a room. The inside jokes they seemed to share, leaving the rest of the group puzzled. The fact that Y/N was suddenly at every practice session, even when she didn't need to be.

During one particularly grueling practice, Mingyu fumbled a guitar riff he'd played perfectly a hundred times before. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, who was laughing at something Seungcheol had whispered in her ear. The sound of her laughter, once a source of joy for Mingyu, now felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

"Dude, you okay?" Vernon asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, just… distracted."

Vernon followed Mingyu's gaze to where Seungcheol and Y/N were huddled together, looking at something on Y/N's phone. "They've been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?" he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Mingyu grunted noncommittally, but his grip on his guitar tightened. "I guess. Not that it's any of my business."

Vernon raised an eyebrow at that but didn't push further. As they resumed practice, he exchanged a meaningful look with Wonwoo. Their plan was working, perhaps a little too well.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu's mood grew increasingly sour. He snapped at staff members over minor mistakes, isolated himself during breaks, and threw himself into his music with an almost manic intensity. His songwriting, always emotionally charged, took on a darker, more melancholic tone.

One evening, after a particularly tense practice session, Wonwoo found Mingyu alone in the studio, furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"New song?" Wonwoo asked, settling into a chair nearby.

Mingyu nodded without looking up. "Yeah. It's… it's about letting go of something you never really had."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up at that. "Sounds heavy. Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might open up. But then he shook his head, slamming the notebook shut. "It's nothing. Just… exploring some new themes."

As Mingyu stood to leave, Wonwoo called out, "You know, if something's bothering you, you can talk to us. We're not just your bandmates, we're your friends."

Mingyu paused at the door, his back to Wonwoo. "I know," he said softly. "But some things… some things you have to figure out on your own."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wonwoo to wonder if perhaps their plan was causing more harm than good.

The situation finally came to a head at a company party celebrating HHT's latest album going platinum. The event was in full swing, the cream of the K-pop industry mingling in a high-end Seoul nightclub.

Mingyu arrived late, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He'd spent hours agonizing over whether to attend, knowing Y/N would be there. In the end, his pride (and a strongly worded text from their manager) had won out.

He froze in the doorway as he spotted Y/N and Seungcheol on the dance floor. Y/N was wearing a stunning red dress that hugged her curves, her hair swept up to reveal the graceful line of her neck. Seungcheol, looking handsome in a well-fitted suit, had his hand on her waist as they moved in perfect sync to the music.

Something snapped inside Mingyu. He stormed over to the bar, downing a shot of soju before grabbing another. As he watched Y/N throw her head back in laughter at something Seungcheol said, a series of memories flashed through Mingyu's mind:

Y/N's shy smile the first time they met at a company event. The electricity he felt the first time they kissed, hidden away in a dark corner of a after-party. Late nights spent talking about their dreams and fears, sharing parts of themselves they'd never shown anyone else. The way Y/N's eyes lit up when she listened to his new songs, always the first to offer genuine feedback and encouragement.

And then, more recent memories: The hurt in Y/N's eyes when he'd laughed off her suggestion of something more serious. The growing distance between them, a chasm he hadn't known how to bridge. The ache he felt every time he saw her now, an ache he'd tried to ignore, to rationalize away as mere physical attraction.

But seeing her now, radiant and happy in another man's arms, Mingyu could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with Y/N. Truly, madly, deeply, irrevocably in love. And he might have just lost her to his best friend.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. The glass in Mingyu's hand shattered, startling nearby partygoers. Blood dripped from his palm, but he barely noticed. All he could see was Y/N, beautiful and radiant, looking at Seungcheol with an affection that used to be reserved for him.

As staff rushed to tend to his injured hand, Mingyu's eyes met Y/N's across the room. The concern in her gaze was almost more than he could bear. In that moment, Mingyu knew he had to fight for her, to tell her how he really felt, before it was too late.

But first, he had some serious groveling to do. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to turn his pain into the most heartfelt song he'd ever written.

As he allowed himself to be led away for medical attention, Mingyu's mind was already racing with lyrics, a melody forming that he hoped would convey everything he'd been too afraid to say. He'd messed up, pushed away the best thing in his life out of fear and stubbornness. But if there was even a chance that Y/N still cared for him, he'd move heaven and earth to win her back.

Little did Mingyu know, across the room, Y/N was fighting every instinct to run to him, her heart breaking at the pain evident in his eyes. As Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly, Y/N wondered if their plan had worked a little too well. -

Y/N went home to her apartment. She sat curled up on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, trying to process the events of the evening. The company party had not gone as planned – the image of Mingyu's pain-filled eyes as he clutched his bleeding hand was seared into her memory.

Y/N's phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. Another message from Seungcheol:

"Are you sure you're okay? I can come over if you need to talk."

She sighed, typing out a quick reply:

"I'm fine. Just need some time to think. Talk tomorrow?"

As she hit send, a loud, insistent knocking startled her. Y/N glanced at the clock – 1:37 AM. Who could it be at this hour?

The knocking continued, more urgently now. "Y/N! Y/N, I know you're in there! Please… please open up."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, even slurred as it was now. Mingyu.

Hesitantly, she made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find Mingyu leaning heavily against the doorframe, his usually impeccable appearance in disarray. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, hair a mess, and the unmistakable smell of soju wafted from him.

"Mingyu?" Y/N said, shock evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Mingyu's eyes, glassy from alcohol, focused on her face. A lopsided smile spread across his features. "Y/N… beautiful Y/N. I had to see you. Had to tell you…"

He stumbled forward, nearly falling. Y/N instinctively reached out to steady him, the familiar warmth of his body sending a jolt through her.

"Woah, easy there," she said, guiding him inside and closing the door. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You shouldn't be here."

Mingyu allowed himself to be led to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. "I know, I know. 'm not supposed to be here. But I couldn't… couldn't stop thinking about you. About us."

Y/N perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. Despite her better judgment, concern overtook her resolve to keep her distance. "Mingyu, what's going on? Are you okay? Your hand–"

Mingyu waved dismissively, wincing slightly at the movement. His palm was wrapped in a white bandage, a few spots of red seeping through. "It's nothing. Doesn't hurt. Not like…" he trailed off, his eyes growing sad.

"Not like what?" Y/N prompted gently.

"Not like seeing you with him," Mingyu finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N felt her heart clench. This was exactly the reaction their fake dating scheme was meant to provoke, but seeing Mingyu in actual pain made her question the wisdom of their plan.

"Mingyu, I–"

"No, let me… let me say this," Mingyu interrupted, sitting up straighter and fixing Y/N with an intense gaze. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up so bad. I thought… I thought I could handle seeing you with someone else. Thought it didn't matter. But it does. It matters so much."

He reached out, taking Y/N's hands in his. She knew she should pull away, but found herself frozen, captivated by the raw emotion in Mingyu's eyes.

"I miss you," Mingyu continued, his thumbs tracing circles on her palms. "I miss your laugh, your smile. The way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating. I miss the way you make me feel – like I'm more than just a idol, more than just a pretty face or a good voice. With you, I'm just… me."

Y/N felt tears pricking at her eyes. This was everything she had wanted to hear for so long, but the circumstances were all wrong. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Mingyu shook his head vehemently, then immediately looked like he regretted the motion. "No, no. I'm drunk, yes. But I know… I know what I feel. What I've always felt, even if I was too scared to admit it."

He slid off the couch, landing on his knees in front of Y/N. In any other situation, it might have been comical, but the desperation in his eyes killed any urge to laugh.

"Please, Y/N," Mingyu pleaded, still clutching her hands. "Please give me another chance. Break up with Seungcheol. He's… he's my friend, but he's not right for you. Not like I am. We're… we're meant to be together. I see that now."

Y/N felt panic rising in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Mingyu wasn't supposed to show up at her door, drunk and emotional, laying his heart bare. She wasn't prepared for this.

"Mingyu, listen to me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're not thinking clearly. We can't… I can't…"

But Mingyu wasn't listening. His eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused look. "I'll do better this time, I promise. I'll… I'll write you songs. Take you on real dates. Show the whole world how much you mean to me. Just please… please don't leave me."

His impassioned speech was interrupted by a wide yawn. The adrenaline and alcohol seemed to be wearing off, leaving exhaustion in their wake.

"I love you, Y/N," Mingyu mumbled, his head drooping. "I love you so much. Please… please just…"

And with that, Mingyu slumped forward, his head coming to rest in Y/N's lap. Within seconds, soft snores filled the air.

Y/N sat frozen, her mind reeling. Mingyu's words echoed in her head, everything she had longed to hear for months. But was it real? Or just the ramblings of a drunk, jealous man?

Gently, she extricated herself from under Mingyu, laying him out on the couch and covering him with a throw blanket. She allowed herself a moment to study his face, peaceful in sleep, before retreating to her bedroom.

As she lay in bed, sleep eluding her, Y/N's thoughts were a jumbled mess. The fake dating plan had worked – perhaps too well. Mingyu had confessed his feelings, but at what cost? And what would happen in the morning, when he woke up in her apartment with a killer hangover and the memory of his whiskey-soaked confessions?

One thing was clear: the game they'd been playing had just gotten a lot more complicated. And Y/N had a sinking feeling that someone's heart was bound to get broken in the process – quite possibly her own.

[sailorrhansol]

Blood & Popcorn | l.c (m)

❀ Pairing: Lee Chan x f. Reader 

❀ Summary: Fridays are reserved for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuffing your face with popcorn and pizza. It’s been like that for you and Chan since your freshman year of college. But when he skips your Blood and Popcorn night for a date, things take an unexpected turn. 

❀ Word Count: 11,315

❀ Genre: Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff

❀ Type: Smut 

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Literally so much misunderstanding and repressed feelings, pining, light themes of jealousy, recreational drinking, recreational weed use, bad communication skills, some mild insecurities, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex (do not do this lmaooo), nipple stim, light teasing, oral (f. receiving), clumsy/playful sex, jokes/banter while fucking. They’re both down horrendous. Joshua as an almost love interest. Jeonghan is both terrible and great at advice. Alternating POVs and some time skips. 

❀ A/N: This is another work coming from a conversation with @daechwitatamic who at this point, I think had been the driving force behind all three random one shots I’ve written. I apparently can’t say no when she asks for something :) so anyway, here is simp Lee Chan and simp reader because ???? And yes I'm posting this at 11:30 pm at night who cares there are no rules!!!!!!!!

❀ A/N 2: Also thank you to Jo for reading this before hand because it would be otherwise largely illegible. King Julian is on the way, bestie.   

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

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“So why not Blood and Pizza if pizza is always involved but popcorn isn’t?” Mingyu eyes the french fries on your plate. You give him a warning glance, pointing the sharp tines of your fork at him. He retreats, leaning against the cracked vinyl of the booth, pouting. “Also, the title sounds gross.”

“Good thing it has nothing to do with you then.” 

“Wow, you’re not even going to invite me?” 

“No,” you chirp, popping a shoestring fry into your mouth. You savor the saltiness, humming delightedly. “It’s for me and Chan. Not me, Chan and you. Plus, you know nothing about Buffy.” 

“Isn’t that a magic dragon? And are you sure you two aren’t dating?” 

The look you send Mingyu makes him hold up his hands in surrender. It isn’t the first time someone has asked if you and Chan are dating, and you know it won’t be the last. You don’t want to start down that avenue tonight, trying to navigate the questions of why and well you seem to be a good match. 

If romantic relationships were started over simply having things in common and matching a vibe, you and Chan would have started dating a long time ago. But you’re not, and you’ve already gotten over the fact that you’re not dating and that you will not start dating.

Mostly. 

The bell rings above the diner door, drawing your attention. Like he’s been manifested by Mingyu’s dangerous question, Chan spots you and lifts a hand, a smile splitting his face as he heads over. You scoot over in the booth, dragging your plate along with you to make room for him. 

Chan is dressed in jeans and a green sweater, your favorite color on him. He sits down next to you, cushioned seat dipping a little as he leans over to kiss the top of your head and steal fries off of your plate. You let him, feeling heat flush up the side of your neck as you look anywhere but Mingyu’s accusatory stare.

“These are so good,” Chan says around a mouthful of fries. “Thanks, Bambi.”

You grin at the nickname, trying not to flush too hard. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu says pointedly. You ignore him, shoving your burger in your mouth. “Apparently I’m not allowed fries or to attend your movie night.”

“Order your own fries,” Chan says. 

“Ugh. I already ate mine.”

“So order more, idiot. And of course you’re not invited to Blood and Popcorn. That’s our thing.” 

Our thing. 

The corner of your mouth twitches as you glance at Chan. He doesn’t notice, catching the eyes of the server and waving happily, giving her a broad smile. She gives him a thumbs up in return, confirming she’ll put in his usual now that he’s there. 

There are a lot of things that belong to you and Chan. Studying at the very diner you were sitting in during freshman year had been one of them, though now in your final year there’s not as much of a need to study and you’ve incorporated other friends in your late night trips for grease and calories. 

You also shared trivia nights on Tuesdays with Vernon and Seungkwan, football Sundays with Seungcheol, Mingyu and Jeonghan, once a month family dinners with everyone, and most importantly, Blood and Popcorn. 

Chan steals another fry off of your plate and you let him, leaning back in the booth. Mingyu glares daggers at you, dark eyes flicking from your plate, to you, to Chan. You grin around a mouthful of cheeseburger and he scoffs before looking away. 

Behind you, Chan’s arm stretches across the back of the booth, just barely brushing against the top of your shoulders. Your stomach flips a little, momentarily elated at the contact before you swallow it down with Sprite, pretending it wasn’t there in the first place. 

The two boys immediately fall into a conversation about their shared engineering class. You tune it out easily, a learned habit over the last four years of having to listen to Chan tell you the functions of a bridge and the best way to design one. Instead, you focus on the rise and fall of Chan’s soft voice and the way it lulls you into a state of calm. 

When the server brings over his order, he pulls his arm from over the back of the seat. Immediately you snatch one of the onion rings from his basket, popping one into your mouth and hissing as the crispy snack burns you. He shakes his head, laughing as he gives you a napkin while you sputter.

“Careful, Bambi,” he murmurs. “They’re literally steaming.” 

Mingyu reaches for an onion ring, only to be threatened with the blunt end of Chan’s steak knife. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But she-”

“Bambi has special privileges,” Chan quips. “Order yourself some more fries for the love of God. I’ll pay for them.” 

Mingyu immediately stops whining, mood improving markedly as he orders fries, wiggling in his seat happily. Chan cuts his burger in half, asking, “Why were you talking about Blood and Popcorn anyway?” 

“Shua asked Bambi out on a date,” Mingyu answers around a mouthful of fries. “She told him she couldn’t go because of Blood and Popcorn.”

Chan stops eating and looks at you, brows creasing. You feel your heart rate speed up as you kick Mingyu under the table. He yelps, knee jerking upward to slam against the underside of the table. The salt and pepper shakers rattle in place as Mingyu bends over to rub his shin. 

“He didn’t ask me out on a date.”

“He asked you to dinner!”

“As friends!”

“Oh yeah,” Mingyu snorts, rolling his eyes. “Friends take friends to fucking prime steakhouses. He asked you out on a date.” 

For a moment, silence envelops the table. You stare at your fries, watching Chan out of your periphery. He looks away from you, wiping the grease from his fingers onto the napkin. The air feels pregnant with tension suddenly, your anxiety bubbling as you open your mouth to assert once more it wasn’t a date.

Chan beats you to breaking the silence, “We can skip this Friday so you can go!”

You open and close your mouth a few times, heart dropping to your ass. “What?”

“It’s totally fine if we have to skip. I don’t mind.” 

Chan picks his burger back up, not looking at you. Heart pounding in your chest, you can’t help but watch him in total silence, trying to string together a response. Sure, maybe Chan doesn’t mind if you miss your weekly solo hangout. But you care. 

The ache of the implication cuts you suddenly, a delayed reaction. You feel your throat tighten painfully, reaching for your Sprite to try and swallow past the sudden tension. It does nothing to quell the way the casual dismissal of your tradition keeps cutting you long after he’s said the words, sawing down to the bone. 

“I wasn’t aware that we could just skip Blood and Popcorn, I guess.” 

“I mean if you’ve got a date.” 

That’s not the point, you want to scream at him. 

Chan is a lot of things. Perceptive isn’t one of them. If he had been, you know he would have sniffed out your feelings for him a long time ago. Luckily for you, he’s remained completely oblivious over the last four years of your friendship, and you like to keep it that way. Keep it safe. 

Nothing ruins a friendship more than unrequited romance. You know that from more than just the media you consume - you’ve seen more than once first hand when one friend catches feelings for the others but the desire isn’t mutual. 

It isn’t mutual here. It’s always been very clear where Chan’s interests lie, and you’re totally fine with that. You accept the relationship that you have happily and quietly, and thought moments like are a brutal reminder of where you stand, it’s alright because you also love your friendship. More than you love him - at least, you think so. 

So when Chan so easily suggests to go on a date, to cancel your thing with him to accommodate, you know it isn’t because he doesn’t care. He just thinks that you should go on a date because it doesn’t occur to him that the real reason you don’t want to is because your interests are somewhere else. That you don’t want to cancel Blood and Popcorn because it’s for the two of you and no one else. 

“Yeah,” you rasp, unsure what else to say. “Um, maybe.” 

“Shua is a good guy.” 

“Yeah. Yeah he is.” 

Mingyu and Chan go back to their conversation about class. You finish your meal in silence, leaning back against the seat as your thoughts wander listlessly. You gaze around the diner, drinking in detail as their conversation becomes background noise and you can no longer understand what they’re saying. 

Rounders Diner had been a staple in the college community long before you were born, and continues to be the center for academic life. Students fill the booths sipping on milkshakes as they cram for exams or homework, night shift workers sit at the countertop and order coffee before heading to work, and the jukebox in the corner glows neon, only offering a selection of music from the 50s. 

Behind the countertop is an open scratch kitchen, the sound of sizzling grease and yelled orders bracketing an Elvis song you know the words to but don’t know the name of. Black and white tile flooring with years worth of scuffs reflect the canned lighting in the ceiling. Over near the entrance is a wall covered in pictures of students of note throughout the years. 

You remember the first time Chan had hauled you to Rounders. It was the first day you’d met, two freshmen absolutely terrified of the world after experiencing two back to back intro courses together. The dining hall was on the opposite side of campus from your classes, but Chan had insisted there was a diner just off the corner that everyone said was a necessary experience. 

He was the first real friend you made. Your roommates had become your best friends too, Lorna and Mai splashed across almost every memory you have of college. But that first day is only colored with Chan, who had slid into the seat across from you and looked around the diner with a bright grin like he was suddenly at home. 

Wanna start coming here after class? 

You did. And you had. 

A hand waves in front of your face, making you blink several times before Chan’s face swims into focus. Your thoughts are a little delayed as you drink him in: dark hair framing dark, angular eyes that turn molten brown when the sun hits them just right, a jawline that has turned sharper as he’s aged, though his cheeks still have a youthful softness that you adore, and a grin that makes the world dim. 

“What?” you ask him, totally at a loss for words. 

He laughs and you feel the corners of your lips turn upward, an automatic response to his mirth. “I asked if you were ready to go.” 

You look up to see Mingyu at the register, passing over the bill and a card. “I think I spaced out. I thought you were buying him fries?”

He snorts. “Never fear, it’s my card. Everything okay?” 

You hesitate. Not for the first time, the urge to spill your guts to him grips you so forcefully that you almost do right in the middle of Rounders. Almost tell him everything from start to finish, the feelings, the reason you don’t want to date Joshua, how beautiful you think Chan is-

Mingyu starts heading back and you force a grin on your face, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Of course. A little tired, though. Thanks for dinner.” 

“You know I’ve got you.” He gets up from the booth and holds his hand out to you. “Always.” 

-

Chan is the stupidest fucking person he knows. He lets out a loud scream into the warmth of his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as he lays face down in his bed. His arms are shoved under the pillow, fisting in his sheets as the long-winded scream finally begins to die out. 

“Yes, that is healthy,” Seungkwan calls from Chan’s desk against the window. “Let the pillow know everything that you’re feeling.” 

Scowling, Chan lifts his head up and looks over his shoulder at where Seungkwan is sitting. His roommate is hunched over Chan’s laptop, a document open on the screen as he clicks around rapidly, cursing under his breath. 

“Why are you in here again?”

“My literature professor is a dinosaur,” Seungkwan answers. “And only accepts printed essay submissions.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean you don’t have your own printer?” 

“No, and I will not be paying thirty cents a paper for an essay that is almost thirty pages long.” 

“That’s like, nine dollars dude. Also, why is your essay thirty pages long?”

“Ask the dude who wrote Beowulf.” 

“Isn’t that like… a movie?” 

Seungkwan mutters something under his breath. The printer chimes, followed by a mechanic whirring as the paper feeds into the machine and starts printing. Spinning in the chair, Seungkwan looks at where Chan is still laying stomach down, face squished against his pillow as he cradles it. 

“Speaking of movies - are you having Blood and Popcorn here or at Bambi’s?” 

Chan can’t help but smirk at the nickname. It had stuck ever since your freshman year when you’d called Rin Hartford a bambi-eyed bitch for saying nasty things to Mingyu. He thinks that night might be the night he realized he was absolutely head over heels for you, even if he had only known you for two weeks then. 

Despite your quiet disposition, you’ve always been the epitome of bravery. He can’t recall a time that you haven’t said what you meant or meant what you said, and defending your friends and speaking up has always been paramount to you. 

For someone like Chan who was often the youngest and the softest spoken in any group he was in, you were a breath of fresh air. And you’ve taught him to speak up for himself, letting him grow comfortable pushing back with people - especially his friends - and how to give back what he gets. 

Corrupted, Seungcheol joked once. She corrupted him and taught him how to bully us back. 

“I’m not really sure,” Chan says slowly, thinking about your conversation at the diner, the exact source of his pillow-scream. “We might not be doing it.”

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“There is no paradise. We’re just friends.” 

“That’s the trouble I’m talking about, brother.” Seungkwan turns around to start collecting the pages out of the printer. “Is the Blood and Popcorn cancellation the reason for your pillow screaming?” 

“I don’t know that it’s canceled.” 

“That really clarifies the issue.”

Chan scowls. “Did you know Shua was into her?” 

“Uh, yeah.”

“He asked her on a date.”

“Joshua must have got tired of waiting for you to make a move on Bambi. I guess he decided you weren’t going to.” 

Chan frowns and sits up. He didn’t realize Joshua remotely had a thing for you, and while Chan adores the older member of their larger friend group, the thought of him taking you to dinner - a date - makes his stomach tighten. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Seungkwan clarifies. “That you have had the last four years to nut up or shut up. Everyone has waited for you to make your move on Bambi and you haven’t. If you’re not going to do it, someone else might as well.” 

“I mean, anyone could ask her out. It’s not like I have-”

“Don’t you dare say you didn’t have dibs. Dibs can be unspoken, Chan. You’ve been in love with that girl since freshman year, if you think people - especially our friends - cannot tell and don’t respect you enough to give you time to ask her out, you need to wake up.” 

“It’s that obvious?” 

“Not to her, clearly.” Seungkwan stands and grins at Chan placidly, his essay collected in his hands. “Fortunately for you, the only person who is as dumb as you are is Bambi. Match made in heaven, really.” 

Chan chews his bottom lip. That offers a little bit of relief. He doesn’t like knowing that his feelings are so obvious to everyone else, but at least you don’t know. He cannot imagine how uncomfortable it would make your friendship dynamic knowing he was mooning over you while you just saw him as a friend. 

“Well, she doesn’t feel that way about me. I’m not going to confess my unrequited feelings and put her in that position to deal with them. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

Seungkwan gives Chan a slow blink, smile turning plastic. “Like I said. Match made in heaven.” 

Heaving a sigh, Chan throws himself on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Chan was certainly an idiot for a lot of reasons, but the biggest reason has to be the way he has let his feelings for you fester since freshman year. Instead of implementing preventative maintenance, he’s let the problem grow to the point that his friends are no longer waiting for him to do something about it. 

The window of opportunity is gone. 

Not that there was a window of opportunity to begin with. Chan has seen what it looks like when you’re interested in guys - dazed eyes, a little flustered, a tiny grin on your face. You’ve never looked at him that way. At least, not really like that. You smile at him all the time, but it’s different. 

If he had the slightest indication you looked at him like you were interested, he’d have spilled his feelings a long time ago. Hiding this from you feels almost like a violation of friendship, but in order to preserve the friendship and keep you comfortable, he does what he must. 

The memory of him telling you to go on a date with Joshua makes him  groan in embarrassment. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars explode behind his lids. It had been a knee jerk response, something to distract you from the immediate jealousy and panic he’d felt that moment that Mingyu had dropped that bit of information at the table.

Mingyu. That motherfucker did it on purpose - not to rile Chan, but to try and  give him a kick in the ass toward the right direction. But like everyone else, Mingyu doesn’t get it. If Chan told you how he felt just to get it off of his chest, it would be putting his burden on you. You’d be the one who had to feel guilty for it being unrequited, you’d be the one who would inevitably feel uncomfortable or out of place. 

No. It would be the highest form of selfishness he can think of, offloading the heavy weight of his feelings just to give them to you as a reprieve from carrying them around so long. 

Chan blinks away the swimming colors, staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom again. He can hear Seungkwan singing somewhere in the apartment, liquid voice calming even in Chan’s mild state of distress. 

Joshua is a good guy. Honestly, there are only a few guys that Chan knows who would make a suitable partner for you, and he begrudgingly acknowledges that Joshua is at the top of that list. And yet he still feels a twist of self-loathing that he had pushed you so quickly towards it, the regret like bile in his stomach. 

The last thing Chan wants to do is skip Blood and Popcorn this week. It is the one guaranteed day of uninterrupted time with you, and he waved it away like it meant nothing to him, which could not be farther from the truth. The nights of watching Buffy and eating pizza and sometimes popcorn mean everything to him. 

He just wishes he had been brave enough to stand his ground. 

-

Maybe Joshua Hong is the worst person ever. Chan dismisses the irrational thought as soon as he has it. Joshua isn’t awful at all. It’s just that he’s leaning in toward you and saying something into your ear over the loud din of the party, and Chan watches the way you nod. 

Crack. The plastic cup in his hand splits and immediately spills rum and coke all over the kitchen floor. Jeonghan starts yelling at him, ripping paper towels off of the roll and throwing them in Chan’s direction. He mutters an apology, gaze drifting over the kitchen counter to the living room where you’re laughing, head tilted back, warm light splaying across your throat-

“Ya! Don’t just let it pool at your feet!”

Jeonghan’s screech brings Chan back to life. He snatches the copious amounts of paper towels Jeonghan has thrown at him and starts to soak up the drink. The tile floor is already sticky and Chan cringes. No way have either Jeonghang or Seungcheol cleaned this floor any time recently. If anything, Chan has done it a favor. 

The party is in full swing around him. He stands up with the soaked paper in his hand, tossing it into the trash and grabbing more while Jeonghan digs underneath the counter. Chan finishes soaking up the spilled drink and comes eye to eye with a new set of paper towels and spray cleaner. 

Chan gives Jeonghan the soaked papers. “Jeonghan, your floor is already disgusting.”

“Then you should have no problem cleaning it!” 

“Sure, Mom.” 

“Don’t call me that!”

He rolls his eyes but does what Jeonghan says, spraying the area quickly and pressing down the paper towels. They come away sticky and black, making him cringe in disgust before tossing them out and washing his hands. As he turns off the faucet, Jeonghan has the decency to hand him a new drink.

Chan takes it without comment, the image of Joshua leaning into you a little too much for him to deal with right now. He drains the cup, sputtering a little. Jeonghan is a heavy pour and the spiced rum goes down rough, his eyes tearing just a little as he finishes the drink. 

“Well, that’s one way to stop from spilling.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a look before reaching for the mixer and handle of rum again. “You do normally drink like a fish, but anything in particular driving tonight’s thirst?” 

“Nope.”

“Right, so it’s not tall, dark and handsome hanging out with Bambi?”

Chan feels his eye twitch as he heavily pours the liquor into his cup. “Nope. And Joshua isn’t even that tall.” 

“Taller than you.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a venomous look. His face is beatific, grin a little bit dangerous as he holds his hands up in a white flag. “You look pretty bothered. If only there were a way to fix that.” Chan looks at Jeonghan with wide eyes, hope surging for a moment. “Just tell her you like her.” 

“Why is that the only advice any of you have?”

“Because it’s the only advice I have. Either tell her or get over your feelings. Those are your options.” 

“And I’ve already told you, it would just make her uncomfortable. It’s not her burden to bear.” 

Jeongan taps his fingers on the countertop, studying Chan. Chan pouts into his cup, taking long draughts, trying not to cringe at the strong taste. He can already sense the oncoming buzz and he welcomes it, needing a little something to distract him from the obvious elephant in the living room. 

“Alright,” Jeognhan relents. “Then deal with the consequences and get over your feelings.” 

And he will. Chan has always been good at dealing with the repercussions of hiding his feelings, and he does them well. So he tips back the cup and rejoins the party, nerves steeled and ready to deal with the consequences like his friends keep telling him to. 

-

“What?” you asked, lifting your voice to be heard over the rowdy game of cards at the coffee table. Joshua had asked you something but the words had been lost on you as your gaze drifted to Chan where he was leaning against the wall, talking to a girl you didn’t know. He was leaning awfully close. “I didn’t catch that.” 

Joshua smiles. He really is handsome, and everything someone could want in a partner. He’s kind and gentle, has a little bit of an insane streak, and he is incredibly intelligent and loyal. So why do you feel nothing when he grins at you or laughs? 

Your eyes drift over to Chan again and you feel your stomach flip. The alcohol turns to lead. The girl Chan is speaking to is so close to him, both of them turned toward one another as he ducks his head down to say something to her. She laughs and he smiles, looking her up and down.

Jealousy swallows you whole. It roars so loudly in your ears that you almost miss Joshua’s question again. “Did you give any thoughts about dinner on Friday?” 

Dinner? Friday? Oh right. He had asked you to dinner on Friday, but you’d declined due to your planned Blood and Popcorn night. With Chan. Who is flirting with the girl next to him, who is flirting back. 

The jealousy feels like a raw, rotten thing. It turns the alcohol in your stomach sour, makes the sweat on the back of your neck feel too much, like the room is too loud and too full. Even as the envy rears its head, an ugly beast ready to unleash, you turn to Joshua and say, “I really can’t. Friday nights are really important to me.” 

Joshua looks disappointed, but he’s polite enough to nod and smile. “I understand. Maybe a different night?”

“Um, maybe. Would you excuse me? I really need some air.” 

You stand abruptly, starling the people next to you. The cup in your hand shakes a little and your throat constricts and oh god. You cannot cry in the middle of a party just because you’re a little buzzed and the boy you like is across the room with another girl. 

“Do you want me to-”

“No!” You quip, shaking your head. “Totally fine, I’m so fine, I just need some air. Please! Sit! Stay!” 

Joshua raises his eyebrows at your frantic commands and you give a laugh that is a little on the hysterical side as you step over the legs of people sitting on the floor and on the couch. Joshua calls after you as you make the escape but you don’t turn around, eager to get out of the room. 

You trip over someone’s foot and nearly launch into a passerby as you go. Strong hands steady you before you totally topple over, though your drink sloshes over the edge of your cup, spilling it on the carpet. 

“What is it with you and your other half?” You look up to realize that it’s Jeonghan who stabilized you. “Spilling drinks all over my damn floor!”

“It probably helps. Your floors are disgusting.”

“Ya! That’s beside the point - why do you look like you’re about to die?”

“I feel like I might. I need fresh air.”  For a moment, Jeonghan looks confused. You watch his dark brows pull together and he looks over your head, dark gaze scanning for something. For Chan, you realize. It’s usually Chan who leaves with you if you need air or need to stick your head in a bucket to vomit. The realization hits you like a brick. “Not him,” you whisper. “I’m fine.” 

Your words land at the same time Jeonghan focuses in the direction you’d last seen Chan. He holds you there, suspended in time for a moment as his eyes dart between you and back to where you know Chan is still leaning against the wall. 

There is a flicker of something that you cannot place in Jeonghan’s gaze before it softens and he nods. He pulls you toward him and helps guide you around the groups of people. “Fresh air it is.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“I don’t know, crying alone is kind of lame, Bambi.”

Cool air hits you the second you step onto the porch. Soonyoung is sitting on the railing with Jihoon and Vernon leaning next to him. He waves enthusiastically when he sees you, breaking out into a grin and lifting the joint between his fingers, an offer. You shake your head and he shrugs, passing it to Vernon who lifts a hand in salute. 

The smell of weed chases you down the grass slope of Jeonghan’s backyard. It’s not so much a backyard as it is open to the apartment community’s lake. The spray of the fountain grows louder as the sounds of the party fade. 

Jeonghan sits down in the grass, leaning back on his hands. You join him, cringing at the dampness from the dewey grass. Taking in a deep breath you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting the wind cool the sweat on your overheated skin. The breeze mists the fountain, tiny specks of water tingling on your face as you sit in silence. 

Behind your lids, you can see the image of Chan leaning in toward that girl. The intimacy of the space. You hate how you can recall it in such detail - you’d always been able to remember details where Chan was involved. Like the way he was wearing a black, long-sleeved tee that pulled against his chest and arms perfectly, or the way the necklace you bought him two years ago glinted in the light of the living room, or the way-

“I did it to myself, huh?” you ask, feeling the first tear collect on your lash line. You tilt your head upward, trying to blink it rapidly away. “I could have just told him a while ago.” 

“Well, I don’t think you’re entirely responsible,” Jeonghan mutters. “Look, putting your heart on your sleeve is really scary, especially when it’s to someone you really value. But you have to decide what to do. You can either tell Chan you love him or you can decide to get over it. You can’t cling to unspoken feelings, though.”

“I just… I don't feel like he returns the feelings and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“Then get over him.” You snap your gaze at Jeonghan, who is looking at you with the cool and calm you wish you felt. “If you’re unwilling to be honest with him, then your option is to get over it.” 

“Do you think he would… react poorly?”

“Of course not, but I will not speak to all of Chan’s feelings. Those are his to share, not mine, and I believe in the sanctity of acting on one’s own.”

“You sound so… saintly.”

“Dealing with all your problems has turned me into a saint. Do you know what it’s like being therapy to all of these damn people? You all take ‘door open’ a little too seriously.”

You laugh, feeling a little lighter. Pulling at the grass, you sigh. “You’re right, though. I either need to just tell him or let it go. I can’t just… suffer.”

“If only you’d come to that conclusion a while ago.”

“Bleh.” 

Fresh air and the weight of Jeonghan’s words weigh down on you. You know that he’s right. Though you’re confident that Chan doesn’t return your feelings, you don’t explicitly know because you’ve never asked. And if you never ask, you’ll never know. 

Calm settles over you as you decide your course of action. Blood and Popcorn is in two days - you can bring it up then. 

Nodding to yourself, you pluck more grass out of the ground. “Alright,” you tell Jeonghan, heaving a sigh. “Thanks, Mom.” 

“Ugh, you two! Don’t call me that!”

-

Hands shaking, you stare at your phone. You’ve had two days to mentally prepare for this evening and yet when you look at your phone, you think two days was not remotely enough to prepare for this evening. You haven’t spoken to Chan at all about what time you want to have your weekly hangout, but that’s not unusual. 

The only thing unusual is your hesitation to hit the call button and ask what time he wants to come over. It’s such a simple thing - you don’t need to confess your feelings to him right now. But the anticipation of what inviting him over means and the possible disaster it can bring makes your fingers shaky. 

Instead of hitting dial, you take one deep breath and let it out slowly. In slowly again, and-

Your phone starts ringing before you can finish the exhale. Your heart pounds in your throat when you see Chan’s name flash across your screen. For a few seconds there is pure panic, but you manage to collect yourself and slide your thumb across the screen. It takes a few tries, your hands clammy with anxiety as you answer. 

“Hi!”

“Don’t kill me,” Chan immediately says on the other side of the line. You pause, cocking your head. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“I have to raincheck on Blood and Popcorn tonight.”

“Oh no, are you sick? Do you need me to bring anything over? Is Seungkwan-”

Chan laughs on the other side of the phone and your stomach flutters helplessly. You hear the creak of bed springs and you know he’s sitting on his bed. He has the world’s creakiest bed. “I’m not sick.”

“Oh.” 

You frown, sitting down on your couch and folding your legs. There’s nothing else you can think of that Chan would cancel Blood and Popcorn for, so illness had seemed like the first rational thing. You feel a little embarrassed at immediately trying to take care of him, but push it away to ask, “What’s up?” 

“I have a date. Tonight is the only night she was available for like two weeks. She’s in her first year of law school so her availability sucks.” 

It feels like the air vanishes from the room. You lean back against the backrest on the couch, deflated. You hold the phone to your ear, but don’t feel the weight of it in your hand. The TV across the living room becomes a blur, the muted program in the background unrecognizable. 

A date. Chan has a date. That he’s willing to cancel your night for. 

You think back to that night at the diner when he told you to just go out with Joshua instead of doing Blood and Popcorn. How easily he pushed it aside. Like it was unimportant. Easily missed. 

“Bambi?” Chan’s voice sounds distant through the roar of your emotions. “You there? The cell service in your apartment is so shitty.” 

“I’m here.” 

“Oh good. Sorry to miss, please don’t kill me. We can add two days of Blood and Popcorn next week to make up for it?”

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” 

There’s a pause. “Are you okay?”

“Definitely.” Lie. “Sorry, I just woke up from a nap and I’m a little spacy.” Lie. “No problems here. I’m not mad. Enjoy your date.” Lie. 

“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes after!” 

“For sure.” 

When Chan hangs up the phone, you think that Jeonghan was right. Crying alone is lame. 

-

Chan can’t do this. 

Sol isn’t the problem - at least not directly. She is beautiful and funny, sharp as a whip and has an edge to her that he loves in women. She is successful, has goals, and she’s sensible. And she’s into him, which is perhaps the biggest plus of all. 

But she isn’t you. Sol’s biggest problem is that she’s not you, and it’s not really her problem at all. It is Chan’s and Chan’s alone, and he cannot sit through this date anymore. He’s tried for the last hour already, asking all of the right questions and laughing at all the right places, but he cannot stop the way he wonders if you’re watching buffy. He cannot help but wonder if you’re in those expensive pajamas you like, drinking inexpensive wine from the corner story, his favorite contrast. 

Chan cannot stop thinking that his button up is a little too tight on his chest and the uncomfortable way his new shoes rub his ankle. He’d rather be in a tee and shorts, freshly showered and stretched out. He cannot stop blinking his eyes, hating the way one of his contacts is irritating him, wishing instead to be in glasses and the lowlight of your apartment. 

From the moment he ended that call with you to cancel Blood and Popcorn, all he’s felt is dread. Dread for the upcoming date with someone he should be excited about, dread for telling you how it goes, dread for having to be in public with people and to get to know someone, dread at what happens at the end of the date, does he have to kiss her? Does he have to go get ice cream? What does he do-

“Are you okay?” Sol’s raspy voice draws him from his thoughts - not for the first time that night. She’s leaning back in her seat, dark eyes pinning him to the spot. She is as sharp as she is beautiful, and normally someone like Sol would make him trip over his feet. “You zoned out.”

“I apologize, that was rude of me.”

“It was,” she agrees. She swirls the wine in her glass, looking him up and down before giving him a sympathetic smile. “I won’t be offended if you want to call this off early.” 

“What?”

“You’re not interested,” she asserts. Confident. Self-assured. “It’s totally okay if it’s not working for you.” 

Heat crawls up the side of Chan’s neck. He runs his sweaty palms over his slacks. “I am so sorry,” he says earnestly. “This sounds so stupid to say, but it is me, it isn’t you.”

“No offense, but I know. You’ve been distracted since we got here. You obviously have something or someone else on your mind.” 

“That easy to read, huh?”

“Open book. I have some pride, though. Let’s pay the bill?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her grin is polite. Understanding. “Don’t be. You’re cute and nice, but I cannot suffer knowing your mind isn’t on me.” 

“Understandable.” 

Chan knows he’s lucky. Anyone else a little less level-headed or less confident might have made him suffer. As it is, Sol does let him suffer a little, sliding the bill over to him with a knowing grin. He likes Sol - not like he likes you, but she’s good people. 

“Promise me one thing?” Sol asks before ducking into her Uber. “It’ll help my pride.”

“Sure.”

“Go spend the rest of the evening with whoever it is and make sure you tell them how you feel. It’ll be worth it, that way.”

Chan grins. “Alright. I promise.”

And he does intend to hold to that promise. Something about tonight is different. He can feel it as he walks quickly to his car, undoing the top button of his shirt as he goes. The air is crisp and there are still a few streaks of orange in the night sky, the sun long gone. 

Chan calls you as he turns his car onto the road, heading toward your apartment on the northside of down. He drums his fingers along the steering wheel, buzzing with nervous and excited energy as the line rings. When you don’t pick up, he ends the call. 

Jeonghan was right - he usually is. Chan could either tell you how he feels or live with the consequences, and he’s decided he cannot live with the consequences. He cannot sit across the table from someone who isn’t you and pretend that he isn’t wondering what you’re doing. He cannot look at the curve of someone else’s mouth and wonder what it would be like if it were yours. 

The date had been spurred by the intense wave of jealousy and inadequacy he felt at Jeonghan’s party when he saw you sitting on the couch with Joshua. He has no idea how else he would have had the confidence to start chatting up someone as commanding as Sol, but he was powered by rum and a wounded heart. 

Stupid. It was stupid, he realizes now. He has been stupid so many times regarding you and for long enough that even Joshua, the most polite of his friends, felt like they could respectfully intercept you, now. 

Well, perhaps you will choose Joshua instead. Chan is fine with that. What you want has always been paramount to him. But if you choose Joshua, it will be with the knowledge that Chan loves you and he always has. 

Steeling himself, he gets out of the car at your apartment complex and looks up at the building. He can see the lights on in your living room, confirming you’re still home and probably watching Buffy. The thought sends a thrill through him and he smiles, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.

“You’ve got this, Lee Chan,” he tells himself. “You’ve got this.” 

-

A loud knock on your door startles you. You finish blowing your nose in the issue, trying to suck up the rest of your tears. Pulling the sleeves of your sweater - Chan’s sweater - over your hands, you wipe your face with sweater paws, trying to erase some evidence of your tears before having to face the delivery person. 

Grabbing the bills on the counter, you wonder how many people delivering food have seen people answer the door while crying or immediately after crying. Honestly, they’ve probably seen all types of strange situations, which makes you feel a little bit about answering the door after very clearly sobbing. 

Unlatching the top and flipping the deadbolt, you yank the door open, prepared to not make eye contact to make it a little less awkward for you and the person just trying to hand you pizza and soda, except- 

“Chan?” 

It is Chan standing outside of your door. You blink in surprise, giving him a quick once over. He looks really nice, dressed in slacks and a black button up shirt that is a little too tight across the chest - not that you’re complaining - and the top of the buttons undone to reveal the necklace you gifted him. His dark hair has styling product in it, pushing it out of his face, save for a small rebel strand that hangs over his eyebrow. 

Chan looks… beautiful. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, face swollen from crying, nose a little snotty and looking worse for wear. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Why are you crying?” 

Chan pushes his way into your apartment and you let him, dropping your arm as he passes by. He shuts the door for you, flipping the latch and lock out of habit as he turns to you. He reaches out to grab you by the shoulders but you back up a little, suddenly terrified of his touch. 

He notices. “Why are you crying?” he asks again, dark brows knitted and mouth twisted in a frown. “Talk to me.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” 

“Left early, wasn’t working. What’s going on?” 

You swallow thickly, realizing you’re at a crossroads. Silence stretches between you as he waits for your answer, looking at you with so much concern that you begin to crack. The tension in your throat returns, the telltale sign of tears and you ball your fists, nails digging into your palms.

A torrent of feelings bombard you. Anger. Hurt. Desire. Relief. Hurt again. 

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn.” 

Chan opens and closes his mouth, head cocking to the side a little bit. He looks mystified, trying to put together the pieces to the puzzle. “I don’t understand.”

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn for something else. For someone else.” 

“I-” 

A series of emotions flit over his face. You feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you watch each one, trying to catch them as they go. Confusion. Thoughtfulness. Confusion. Realization. You watch as he drinks you in, the tears, the wet stains from crying on the shirt, your words. Slowly, Chan puts the pieces together for the entire picture, and his face becomes so soft that you nearly cringe. 

“Oh, Bambi.” 

“You can date whoever you want, you’re not mine,” you punch out, wiping a tear as it escapes your eye. Feeling small, you back away from him a little, breaking eye contact. “But it hurts when you shove me aside like that. Look, I know we’re friends, but-”

“Bambi,” he says gently. You’re not looking at him, but you know that tone. The pleading. He’s begging you to stop, you think, but if you don’t get this out now you never will. 

“Blood and Popcorn is important to me. You’re important to me. I know you’ve never seen me as more than a friend, but Chan-”

Chan interrupts you again. This time though, it’s by crashing against you. You nearly topple over onto the coffee table with the force of it, but you cling to him, digging your hands into the meat of his biceps to hold yourself to him. His hands press into the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity to you that you can’t pay any attention to, because Chan presses his mouth against yours softly, stealing all of your thoughts.

For a second, your brain goes static. You’re so stunned you don’t do anything but cling to him, vacantly aware that the softness of his lips are on yours. Tentative. Questioning. 

Chan pulls away and your eyes flutter open. He is only an inch away from your face, his minty breath fanning your lips as he begins to apologize, panic on his face. You interrupt him this time, surging forward to crash your lips to his, far less gentle than he had been the first time. 

The box you’ve shoved every feeling for Chan cracks open. You feel everything pour out of it, a steady stream of want as you press into him. He smells like teakwood and mint, hypnotizing you. His mouth is soft and eager, sucking gently against your bottom lip. 

Everything feels lighter, like gravity has lost all meaning. Chan pulls away from your mouth a little, close enough to brush your lips against his in a feather-light kiss, but enough to gaze down at you through half lidded eyes. 

“The date didn’t work out because I kept thinking of you,” he whispers, voice shaking. You feel your breath stop as he speaks, each word sinking in. “It was stupid to ask her out. I was feeling insecure about Joshua asking you out, and it was stupid and petty-”

You kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss, letting you lead him, slow and lazy. You feel his tongue brush against the seam of your lips and you eagerly let him in, toes curling as he licks into your mouth. 

“I just want you,” Chan admits, breaking away for a quick breath of air. He presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek. He peppers your face in them as his hands skate up your back, hot even through the material of his sweatshirt. “I have for so long and I’ve been so afraid to tell you.”

“I was afraid too.” 

“I have wasted so much time.” His hands cradle your face, turning you to look at him. 

Chan is so earnest. Raw honestly glitters in his eyes. Deeper, hiding beneath the surface is something a little darker and more intense. Want. Desire. Something that lingers, waiting for you to call it forward. You love him so much that in that moment you almost cry more, feeling overwhelmed with everything you’ve buried down for years. 

“I want to make up for it,” you whisper, stealing a kiss that is more teeth than anything. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. Your hands sink to his waist, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. “I was actually going to tell you tonight, before you canceled.”

“What a stupid man I am.”

You smirk a little. “Yes.” 

“Let me apologize,” he murmurs, voice low. You feel yourself shiver as he pushes you toward your room, connecting your mouths again. The kiss is messy and needy, so different than the one moments before. You tangle together, stumbling toward your room. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Oh?” 

The crash landing onto your mattress is not graceful. Chan’s full weight falls on top of you and your foreheads smack a little. You yelp in paint and Chan groans, burying his face in your neck. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles to the surface, exploding out of you as your hands press flat on his back, soothing as you hold him to you.

“First step of apologizing,” you wheeze under him. “Give her a concussion.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, burying his face further in embarrassment. “I’m a little eager.” 

His breath tickles your neck, making you squirm under him. He seems to notice, opting to press open-mouthed kisses against your throat. You hum, eyelids fluttering at the stimulation. “It’s okay,” you breathe, fingers turning to claws against his back. “It’s cute.”

Chan leans off of you, properly supporting himself with arms on either side of your head, caging you in. His knee slots between your legs, making your stomach leap in excitement as he scoots it up a little, almost pressing against you. 

“You’re cute,” he notes, kisses getting messy as they go up your neck toward your ear. He nips your ear and you let out a sound. His laughter is warm against you and you shiver. “You’re in my clothes.”

“I wear them all the time.”

He groans. “I know. Fuck I know.”

“Is that what does it for you?” You move your hands from his back to his waist, pulling the tucked shirt from the waistband of his slacks. His hips twitch forward, excited. He busies his mouth with pressing wet kisses to your jaw. “Me in your clothes?”

“Everything does it for me. I am down horrendous for you.” 

“I really didn’t know.”

He moves a hand to pull at the collar of his sweatshirt, exposing more of your collarbones to him as he kisses. “Everyone else did,” he assures you. You hiss when he bites down and licks over the sting, looking up through dark lashes to gauge your reaction. You nod a little and he grins, doing it again. “Biting. Got it.” 

With trembling fingers, you work the buttons on his shirt. You steal touches as you go, greedy for him. Too long have you hidden what you want in the shadows, too long have you resisted this. Now, you take. 

You brush your fingers against the flexing muscle of his stomach as you pull at the shirt, making him moan deep in his throat. His skin is like fire as you brush your fingers across its warmth, shoving his shirt off. He leans up, letting it fall from his shoulders, rippling to the ground.

The light from your hall glows behind Chan, haloing him in golden light. Your breath catches in your chest as your fingers press to his skin, brush over his shoulders and chest, down his stomach. You feel him twitch beneath your hands but he lets you explore, breathing hard under your reverence. 

Golden boy, so full of fire. It’s all you can think of as you stare up at him, equal parts light and dark in your bedroom. Your hands drop to his belt and you tug him to you, desperate for him. 

“Kiss me,” you beg. 

He does. His mouth is greedy, stealing your breath. A thrill shoots through you when he slides his knee up higher, pressing it between your legs. You breath the kiss to gasp at the barest amount of pressure and Chan grins, watching your reaction through a heavy gaze. 

“Take this off for me,” he asks, voice raspy. He pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt on your frame. “Please.”

You lean up, pressing your mouth to his collarbone in a sweet kiss as you pull the shirt over your head. He helps you, tossing it somewhere else. His hands go to your sides, fingers tracing up your curves as he pushes you back down, claiming your mouth again. 

It feels like you might go crazy. Your bare chest presses against his, the friction turning your blood to liquid fire. His knee is firm between your legs, and when his hand slips to your waist, squeezing you and urging you to roll your hips you can’t help but let out a moan in the shape of his name, helpless.

“Fuck,” he swears, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he helps you move against his thigh. “If you say my name like that again I might bust in my fucking pants.” 

“Chan.” 

“Don’t,” he laughs, biting your shoulder. “I want this so bad.” 

“I want you.”

“I might pass out due to sheer joy.” 

“I have some ideas on how to revive you.” 

He lets out a swear and you laugh. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

“Maybe.” 

Truth is, you think he might be the death of you. You’d die happily in his arms, completely swept up in the feeling of Chan’s tongue as it skates across your skin and up the swell of your breast. When he pauses, you look down at him. He smirks, happy to have your attention before he flicks his tongue lightly over the peak of your nipple. 

You squeeze your legs around his thigh, back bowing off the bed. He lets out a chuckle, repeating the flicking motion as he watches you with dark, satisfied eyes. It drives you insane, the way he watches you with equal parts reverence and determination to find out what makes you squirm. 

Chan is a fast learner. His teeth scrape against your nipple and you whine, thrashing under him as he teases you, pulling gently. The sting feels so good, making you melt into the mattress underneath him. He makes a sound of appreciation, sucking gently and sending you to the moon before trailing his mouth toward your other breast. 

The hand on your hip squeezes you, reminding you why it had been there in the first place. “Keep going.” His breath fans against your skin and you tremble. “I like seeing you worked up.” 

“God,” you whisper, trying to roll your hips against his leg again. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and as he sucks greedily at your chest you feel like you might rip at the seams. “Who knew you were so… this.” 

You feel his wet grin against you, tongue flicking against your pert nipple. Your head falls to the side as you pant, trying to catch your fucking breath. 

Of course he can reduce you to nothing so easily. No one knows you better than Chan, the two of you like twin flames. Every touch of his tongue, every press of his fingers into your skin, every breath of your name on his lips were made to unravel you because it’s Chan. Your Chan. 

Your Chan who gently pulls the sweatpants from your hips, groaning low and slow when he sees the way your panties stick to your folds. Your Chan who kisses and bites the softness of your thighs, breath ghosting across sensitive flesh, fingers prying your legs apart when they start to twitch shut. 

You’d always been made for him. To think otherwise was folly. You know that now, hand gripping his bones tight as he pulls your hands to the side, the cold air hitting your aching cunt. He lets you squeeze his hand, not caring that your gripping is bone-breaking. 

“Hmm.” He looks up at you and you look down at him. His eyes are blown and he grins, shaking his head a little. “This for me?” You nod, your thoughts banging around the near empty space in your head as you do. “Fuck.” 

And then his tongue presses against you, flat and warm and fuck fuck fuck. You can barely function as Chan drags his tongue slowly up your pussy, avoiding your clit entirely before dragging it back down. He makes a sound in his throat that sounds like a whine and you nearly lose it there, driven insane by him. 

Chan takes the hand he has linked with yours and rests it on your hip, pressing into you to keep you still. You buck under his mouth and he laughs, unbothered as he looks up at you. The vision of him between your legs makes you dizzy, his hair mused, tongue pressed between your folds, eyes starving. 

Your other hand grips his wrist where his opposite hand holds you open. You cling to him, thighs twitching as he licks you at his leisure. His mouth is a weapon, bringing you to the edge of insane easily. When he closes his lips around your clit and sucks gently, you fear you might break. 

He can sense it too, setting himself to the task of pushing you over the edge. Chan learns you so quickly - maybe just knows you intuitively - alternating between circling his tongue around your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking on it gently. 

“I am going to die,” you gasp between ragged breaths. “Your fucking mouth.” 

“Yeah? Feels good?” The buzz of his words drive right into your lower stomach where your orgasmed has so much compacted pressure you know you’re going to snap any moment. “Taste so good. I could eat this pussy all fucking night.” 

“Fuck, Chan. I’m gonna come.” 

He gives a harsh suck to your cunt, the wet sound obscene. “Good.” 

“Like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, panting. He does it again, following your instruction. Your mouth falls open as you nod, unable to string together more than. “Mmm.” 

Chan doubles his effort, the wet sounds of his mouth making it all the harder to keep it together. He keeps you in place as best as he can, but his little hums of pleasure and the combination of his mouth and tongue send your orgasm slamming into you. 

You think you say his name. You have no idea if anything comes out at all. You come hard, thrashing against the bed as he licks you through it, uncaring. Every nerve in your body is on fire, limbs tingling as you float in the momentary high of your peak before you start to come back down, breathing raggedly. 

A cramp throbs in your fingers that are still twisted in Chan’s grip. You loosen your grip a little bit, feeling a little bad about almost snapping his fingers. He doesn’t seem to mind, head still between your legs, tongue gentle and pressed against your twitching entrance. He avoids your clit, letting you catch your breath.

“Chan,” you mumble. He lifts his head, your arousal spread across his mouth. He is a mess, spiking your need for him. You pull at him, wild. “Kiss me.” 

He doesn’t hesitate. He scrambles up to you, letting go of your hand in favor of cradling your face. The kiss is hungry and wet, your heady taste on his mouth as you drink him in. You don’t care, desperate to have him close, pulling him into you. 

One of your hands snakes between your bodies, pressing against the firm outline of his cock through his pants. He lets out a whine, shaking his head as he breaks the kiss, breathing heavy. 

“Don’t,” he begs. “I will cum right now.” 

“Oh?” 

“I’m so serious, I almost came untouched.”

“Wow, I really do it for you, huh?” 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His sincerity makes you flush and you peck him on the lips. “I cannot promise I will not come apart after a single stroke.” 

“Don’t care.” You undo his belt, pulling. “Want it. Want you. Please don’t make me wait.” 

He curses. “I can deny you nothing.” He sees your wicked grin and shakes his head, laughing as he pulls away to kick out of his pants. “You like having me wrapped around your finger, huh?” 

“You’re not the only one whipped.” He looks at you, doubtful. “You think I share my fries with anyone? Be so real, Chan. That’s something only you can do.” 

“Got it. French fry privileges, what else can I weaponize?” 

You don’t answer his question, distracted by him as he peels his briefs off and fists his heavy cock. You lick your lips, drinking in the length and thickness of him, the sticky, swollen tip, the way he pumps himself when he kneels on the bed again. 

“Hmm?” he asks, noticing you're distracted. “Everything okay?” 

“You have a nice dick,” you blurt. He pauses, raising his brows, thighs pressed to the back of yours. You fold your lips flat, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “Thank you is the proper response to a compliment.” 

He bursts into laughter and you can’t help but join him, covering your face as it heats up. “Don’t hide from me, wanna see you,” he teases, grabbing your hands and pulling them from your face. He pins them above your head. “And thank you.” 

Chan runs the head of his cock along your sticky folds, both of you moaning in unison. His hand still pins yours above your head, making you feel open and vulnerable. Your knees squeeze his hips as he ruts against you a little, eyes focused while he uses his other end to guide himself to your entrance. 

“Mmm,” the sound escapes you as he presses in, the ache in your core doubling for a second as he sinks further. “Fuuuck.”

“Okay?”

“Very. Just- slow.”

“You got it, baby.” 

The term of endearment hits you low in the stomach. Between him whispering baby and sinking into the hilt, you don’t know what drives you crazier. The easy answer is just Chan. It’s simply Chan who does this to you, who turns you inside out, who reduces you to a whimpering mess. 

Chan lets go of your hands and brings it to your face. He leans down, supported by the other hand as he kisses you gently, letting you adjust to his girth, pussy spasming around him as you try to keep it together. The kiss is slow and sweet, in contrast to the feral kiss you shared earlier. 

“Fuck,” he breaths against you mouth, laughing. He presses his forehead against yours. “You’re fucking squeezing me. I might die.” 

You do it on purpose this time and he hisses, all of his muscles clenching. “Like that?” 

“Doonnn’t. If I come right now I’ll be so embarrassed.” 

“Why? It’s just me.”

“I don’t want to one-stroke my dream girl, are you serious?” 

“Dream girl, huh?” He pulls out a little before shallow thrusting back in. “Mmm yeah. That feels good.” 

Instead of answering your jest, he kisses you slowly. His strokes are slow but deep, making you sigh. He feels so good, having him like this. Chan presses his body against you, melding the two of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, squeezing to keep him as close as possible. 

Your name falls from his lips as you move in sync. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, feel him shake in your hands. He buries his face in your neck, mouth pressed against your skin as he breathes heavily. You cling to him, as though you could press your love into him, as though you can transfer it through touch. 

Chan slides a hand between the two of you, reaching down to circle your clit gently. You whimper in surprise, squeezing around him and drawing out a low sound. “I’m gonna come soon,” he murmurs. “Do you have another one, baby? Can you try for me?”

You nod. He presses his lips to your temple, driving his hips faster, fingers firm. You feel yourself wind up again, desperate to catch up to Chan, to give him what he wants, to come undone together. You’d do anything for him - anything he asked. You always have.

A glint of metal catches your eye. You see the necklace you gifted him hanging around his neck, tapping his collarbone in time with his movements. The sight of it makes you possessive, your desire for him surging. Gripping the back of his neck, you bring his mouth to yours. You don’t kiss him, but your mouths are pressed together as you mutter, “I love you, you know?” 

He groans, hips stuttering, fingers firm. You’re so close, you feel yourself right on that edge again. “I do know,” he admits, his cock pressing that perfect spot inside of you that has the room spinning. “I love you too, you know?”

You feel him smile against you. The kiss he gives you is so gentle that it sends you over the edge. You hold him tight, coming undone around him as he groans into your mouth, unraveling with you. When he stills, you keep holding him to you, his embrace warm. 

Chan nudges your nose with his. You open your eyes to find his dark ones peering at you. You smile, lifting a hand to trace your fingers along his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks. You note the faint freckles under his eyes, his long lashes, the way one side of his lips lifts before the other when he smiles. 

“Hmm?” he asks.

“You’re so pretty.” You trace your finger to his nose and then flick it. He frowns and pulls away, making you laugh. “There is cum leaking down my leg to my ass.” He thrusts once sharply and you whine. “Chaaaan.”

“Hmmm?”

“Can we shower?” 

“We?”

You grin. “You speak French?” 

“I speak pussy.”

“Ew, get off of me!” you laugh, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughs too, rolling off and pulling out. “Take me to the shower, you loser.” 

“Oui.” 

“Then I want to watch Buffy - oh no.”

“What?” He stands and reaches a hand out to you, helping you up. “Are you alright?”

“I ordered pizza and they probably tried to deliver.” 

“That’s okay.” He pulls you toward the shower and smacks your ass lightly, making you yelp. “Start the shower, I’ll call and get it re-delivered.”

You pause, looking at him, unable to bite back the smile. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. Love you too, Bambi.”

-

“I know I’m good looking,” Chan murmurs, eyes on the screen. “But you’re staring very hard at me.” 

You’re laying against his chest, head tilted up to look at him. You can’t help it, watching the blue light from the TV dance across his face, reflected in the glasses he put on after the shower. His hair is still damp and fluffy, skin glistening from the skincare post-shower. 

“You are good looking.”

“Damn. Only like me for the looks?”

“Well your jokes aren’t very good.” 

He levels you with a glare and you laugh, kissing him quickly before settling down in his arms again. His embrace is warm and he smells like your shampoo. You press yourself into him further and he grunts, letting you. 

“Can we do Blood and Popcorn forever?” you ask, watching him fondly. He smiles and kisses your forehead, flooding you with warmth. “Please?”

“Anything you ask, baby. Blood and Popcorn forever.” 

-

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@jespecially @asyre @eoieopda @todorokiskitten @pyeonghongrie-main @sebbyswifu @softiesoga

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[flwoie]

꒰ 엔하이픈 ꒱ HE'S POISON — PARK JONGSEONG

🍽️ Delphinium Academy is Korea’s prestigious high school, it’s well known for its massive cafeteria with delicious selections every day. It’d be a blessing to get food there. So when you, a culinary prodigy, are accepted into their culinary course, it means free food and a cool uniform. To Jay, Delphinium’s best volunteer, having a culinary mastermind work with him is his biggest fear. So to prevent you from laying a finger on his kitchen, let’s just say you got salmonella and a rivalry between the both of you. 

૮₍  ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა culinary student! jay x f! reader

INGREDIENTS > romcom, smau, highschool au (vocational school bc i went to one and i've never experienced a normal hs), rivals to lovers

CONTAINS > 14+, profanities, food (i dont recommend reading this if ur sensitive to food since 99% of this is about it), kys & kms jokes, jay is kinda mean, friend groups jokingly bully each other (the jokes are kinda mean but i swear most friend groups does this 😭); mentions of food poisoning, fires, injuries, blood

૮₍  ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა heejin & haseul from artms, serim & taeyoung from cravity, gaon (jiseok) from xdh, jake sunghoon & sunoo from enha, jisung from nct, harua & jo from &team, chuu (jiwoo), yoon from stayc, hanni from nwjns, gaeul from ive, ryujin from itzy, mingyu from svt, saerom from fromis_9, younghoon from tbz, jangjun from gncd

BEST BEFORE > jan 12 ‘24 - EXPIRED

TAGLIST IS OPEN! SEND AN ASK OR COMMENT UNDER MAIN MASTERLIST

🗯️ going insane

A RECIPE TO MAKE A POISONOUS CHEF!

🍽️ EGGSHELLS # ANCHOVIES # LICORICE # TRUFFLE OIL

PREPARATION # wait i ate that soup

ONE # dishwasher head

TWO # blud thinks shes in hsm rn

THREE # middle finger on top a middle finger

FOUR # URGHHH KYSSS

FIVE # peter griffin skin

to be added...!

enhypen masterlist

[vitaminkyeom]

[22:21]

PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

GENRES || Angst, Best Friends To Lovers(?)

WARNINGS || angst, just angst

WORD COUNT || 0.5k

A/N || @ksoology ni remember talking about this? a big thanks to kiki @nonuify for beta reading for me!

TAGLIST || @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @aaniag @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @athanasiasakura @sea-moon-star @hrts4hanniehae @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @asasilentreader @isabellah29 @mrswonwooo @hoichi-02 @uri-boo @dinossaurz @nonononranghaee @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinkerbell460 @bluewbwerry @iamawkwardandshy @hoeforcheol @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @hyneyedfiz @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @mnstxmnbb @stervahaha @escoupseu @wonvsmile [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

“come on, how could jo say no!” your best friend complained, before slumping back into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest in a pout. you laughed at him, feeling the familiar warmth fill your stomach as you glanced at mingyu softly.

“well yeah no one i know alive ships laurie and amy. i mean, look at their chemistry!” you said, still unable to take your eyes off mingyu.

as if you hadn’t sinned enough by falling for your best friend, but you also to make it painfully obvious that kim mingyu aka your best friend (maybe repeating those words would stop the feelings) was the most attractive and beautiful man you had ever seen even in pyjamas and you just loved looking at him.

looking at him always put you at ease, like he was the island you had been swimming for all your life and finally got to rest, like he could anchor your soul to a stable rock and could cool down your fervent body. 

“seen a lot of people say ‘oh now that i’ve grown up i feel like amy and laurie were perfect!’. like what a load of crap.” your other best friend, gahyeon said before leaning back to look at you.

finally tearing your eyes away from a still pouting mingyu, you giggled at her. “man, we’re such a sucker for best friends to lovers right?”

“right, when’s my best friends to lover happening?” she wailed, causing the two of you to laugh even more.

“um, th second you confess to me?” mingyu joked, causing gahyeon to glare at him before melting into a smile when he gave back his soft signature smile.

and that’s when it hit you.

you watched your two best friends stare back at each other softly, carrying so much love in their eyes that you felt the popcorn you had eaten threaten to rush out of your mouth.

no way. it couldn’t be-

there was no way your best friends were in love with each other right? there was no way there were secretly yearning for each other-

but then again, so were you reading for mingyu despite him being your best friend. you too wished he would want you the way you wanted him.

but now he would never…

all of sudden, something seungkwan had said months ago flashed into your head. something about love being in the air and then him looking at you in disgust.

only it wasn’t you he was looking at, it wasn’t even you he was talking about. it had been gahyeon and mingyu all this time.

you swallowed the bile that had risen to your throat as you literally felt your heart shatter in your chest. your eyes prickled with tears as your head swam.

what were you going to do? oh, just what were you going to-

no.

you were not going to think like that.

forcing a smile back on to your face you turned back to your obliviously in love best friends and felt your heart shatter for a second time that day.

and then heal a little immediately.

because you realised mingyu never looked more beautiful as he did now, smiling sweetly as gahyeon and she too never looked more dazzling that now as she matched his beam. 

and at that moment, you knew exactly what you were going to do.

even if it killed you, you would make sure your best friends ended up with each other.

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[kwonkioz]

. . . brave and nerd | jeon wonwoo x reader (jo shin-yeol) x kim mingyu

A school that made class segregation according to the "intelligence" levels of the students regularly applied class changes to the students according to the grades. This made the students feel like racehorses instead of students, but none of them noticed. As a result of the incessant exams and quizzes, it was perceived that there was something strange about this supposedly fair school administration. Although it was claimed that the notes were not tampered with in any way, there was actually terrible money going on in the back. For the first time in his life, one of the 2/1 class of the school's valedictorians would collaborate with the others to reveal this. This is how Jo Shin-yeol proved that she was much more than a brave girl who devoted her life to the nerdy Jeon Wonwoo.

𐙚 I leaned my hand hard against the wall and smiled with the confidence of having squeezed it between me and the wall. Even if I was two or three inches shorter than him, his high-soled sneakers would make the difference between us and make him look down on me with exasperation.

The gentle breeze that hit my lips when he exhaled a distressed breath was enough to make my heart race.

"Get out of here."

I pursed my lips and tilted my head to the side, "Why? Are you in a hurry?"

"There is! The bell is about to ring."

"It doesn't hurt to be two minutes late."

"Speak for yourself," he whined angrily, adjusting his round glasses, "Not everyone in this school can hang out like you do. You use it as your own place because your mom donates a ton to the school. But leave me alone, I'm not one of your toys."

"Who said I treated you like a toy?" I put my hand to the collar of his jersey and started playing, "Wonwoo... If you were a toy, you'd be the most valuable piece of the collection."

He angrily pushed my hand away, "Shut up, Shin-yeol! Stay away from me, I'm warning you for the last time." I probably hear the phrase "I warn you for the last time" twenty times a day.

When he turned right to leave, I grabbed him by the arm and stopped him, and he gave me a questioning look. I rose on my tiptoes, "Let me."

I could feel her body contracting as she released a kiss right on the corner of her lips. I had the courage to do more than that, but for now I didn't want to push him any further because he was angrier than he had ever been when I had done it before. Now he seemed to get used to it, even though he still hated it.

When I stepped back, he looked at me with a frown and pulled his arm hard.

"I hate you, Shin-yeol," and he said the sentence that shattered my heart into a thousand pieces and went to class.

With a deep sigh, I began to make my way to the classroom. My hands are in my jacket pockets, a whistle on my lips. I entered the classroom a few seconds before Mrs. Daye. Even if I was late, this would not be a problem.

I moved to my row one behind Wonwoo, who was sitting in the middle and second row. Normally, I know that the front row by the window is always my property with title deeds; After Wonwoo arrived in this class, I quickly left. If it were up to me, I could sit next to him, but I don't think he would be silent about it.

I was spending the most peaceful moments of my life as I rested my chin in my palm and watched him from behind. Until, of course, Mrs. Daye interrupts this moment. When he chose me to solve the question on the board, I quickly got up and solved it in a minute, returned to my seat, and continued watching Wonwoo from where I left off.

I couldn't be mad at Mrs. Daye for that. It was good that he put me on the board because my mother was respected by the principal and the judgment that I had passed the exams was erased. This is how I was proving that I got high grades with my own success.

This was the branch where the smartest students of the second grade gathered. That's why Wonwoo came here from the 2/2 class. When his already high grades peaked, it was decided to move to this class. That was the day something changed in my life; It's the day Wonwoo walked into our class.

I always saw his name on the grade lists. Usually it would be first or second. I was first three times, often second, and once third. So it was something I was used to seeing Wonwoo's while looking at my own name. But I didn't know who he was, I was very curious. Because everyone was talking about him and his high grades.

He also came to school on a scholarship, so he was highly respected. In our school, there was no such thing as being crushed for scholarships, on the contrary; Scholars were valuable because we knew that they earned it because of their own achievements, not their father's money. That's why Wonwoo is always cherished, but he doesn't care about it at all. It was their humility that drew me to him.

He was also the first person to defend me, even though he didn't know me. While I already had feelings for him that I could not name, hearing what he said about me made me completely dependent on him.

Again, there was talk behind my back that day about the fact that my notes were thanks to the torpedo;

"The notes have been announced, and you see, Shin-yeol is second again."

"I'm getting annoyed! Would she get such a high grade if her mother didn't donate to the school?"

"Right?! Our right is literally being beaten."

As I stood in a place where they didn't see me and listened to them, I felt very hurt at that moment, even though I was used to these dialogues. I didn't want to hear any more and when I decided to go, I heard an unfamiliar voice.

"These are very dirty thoughts."

When I turned to them, I was amazed that this boy, who had come to our class only two days earlier, had defended me.

"If Jo Shin-yeol wasn't a successful student, she wouldn't always be high on the list, our school is not an institution that will accept torpedoes. Also, most people's families donate, so why doesn't everyone come first?"

As my heart pounded with every word of hers, the sprout inside me began to blossom. I realized that I was not wrong to be influenced by him. He stood up and adjusted his glasses.

"I think instead of making excuses for the grades that the nation has earned on its own merits, go and study so that they can talk about you."

From that day to this day, Wonwoo has been the center of my life. Of course, he was not happy about it at all. Because I had bored him too much. I had tried to go up to him and chat with him when we had no communication, I had run with him to walk home with him after school, I had bought stupid stupid gifts, I had been jealous of him from others and I had kept the girls away from him by saying this directly. Now no girl dares to look at him even out of the corner of her eye.

Wonwoo had held out so far and eventually exploded; "If I had known you were such a person, I would never have defended you! Stay away from me, you're disgusting!"

I should not be proud of these words and not even look him in the face. But it didn't happen... I started to like him even more than before. There wasn't a single moment when I didn't think about him. I made that clear, and now we were like Tom and Jerry. He's running away, I'm chasing.

Oh... That's how my high school life became unbalanced. There was a slight rivalry between me and Wonwoo; who will be the first. But I didn't care one bit about being the first. That rivalry was something that others talked about. Likewise, Wonwoo didn't wear it.

Yesterday, we had our last exam. I observed that Wonwoo was working like crazy for this exam. He was probably going to be the first again.

During the first break, the whole school gathered in front of the big wall in the hallway to look at the grade list. While I was waiting for the crowd to disperse a bit, Wonwoo stood in front of me. I looked at him curiously, and he offered me the stern and reproachful look I often encountered.

"Congratulations, you've come out on top."

My brows instantly furrowed. In disbelief, I pointed to myself, "Me?"

He rolled his eyes, and as he stepped up to leave, I grabbed his arm, "Wait! What about you?"

"If you're so curious, go have a look," I couldn't understand the reaction when he pulled his arm hard. After staring for a while, I plunged into the crowd and approached the list.

1- Jo Shin-yeol

2- Park Dae Gang

3- Park Dae Gun

4- Jeon Wonwoo

As my eyes and mouth widened, I understood the reason for the reaction just now. It was the first time he had been down from second place. How could the Park twins get so high? Okay, they were in our class too, but at most they would be in third or fourth place. In fact, I think they should have been 2/2, that is, in the class that came after us. I passed them all, Wonwoo would never have been fourth! His place was first, at least second.

I quickly ran to the classroom, Wonwoo was not there. I also looked in the canteen and garden, but I couldn't find it. I asked Kwon Soonyoung, the best friend I saw in the hallway.

He rolled his eyes at me, "Aren't you going to leave Wonwoo alone even when he's on the toilet, Jo Shin-yeol?"

"Don't get involved in that, Kwon."

After I found out he was in the bathroom, I started waiting at the door. After a while, Wonwoo came out and frowned when he saw me.

"What are you doing here?"

I approached him and said, "Wonwoo; I have no idea how the Park twins came to be second and third. I think there's something wrong with this. It should have been you. You've worked so hard."

He tilted his head and laughed sarcastically, and looked at me again, "What about you?"

I frowned, not understanding, "Hm?"

"Isn't there something wrong with you coming first?"

"Wonwoo," I said firmly. I understood what he was implying.

"What others have said about you, you're saying about the Park twins now. There's a saying that one knows one's own business, you've heard it."

My nerves were shattered and my heart was shattered into a thousand pieces. I held my eyes, which filled with tears because I didn't want to cry in front of him, with great effort.

"If you really think so, why did you defend me that day?"

"So I was wrong. I didn't even know you well. I've seen so many of them talking behind your back that I thought I should intervene, but I wish I hadn't."

I clenched my fists. It hurt less when he said he hated me.

"You're just talking like that right now to break my heart."

"Why would I want to do something like that? I saw you, Shin-yeol, you didn't even study for this exam. You're at the top when it's impossible for you to even be second. Don't you think it's weird?"

He's trying to take the anger out on me that he dropped to fourth place. In fact, he doesn't know anything. He's not one to speak with such prejudice, I don't understand what has changed now.

"I told you I had insomnia. I study at night, I don't bury myself in test books every recess like you!"

He sighed deeply. He adjusted his glasses as usual.

"I don't care what you do or how you do it, Shin-yeol. I don't even want to see your face after your morning move. Get out now."

As he was about to walk past me, I said loudly, "Is that why you were unresponsive when I kissed you?!"

He quickly turned around and pressed his hand to my mouth, "Shut up, someone is going to hear!"

I lowered his hand and said, "Is it a lie? You didn't push me, you waited."

He swallowed, "I was in shock of the moment, okay? Don't make sense of it all," I laughed wryly at his ridiculous defense, "Even though I kissed you for the third time?"

He rolled his eyes with a weary breath, "You can say what you are doing without shame, give up."

He stepped back, turned around, and left. As usual, he left behind a mole, heartbroken, but the smallest part of which belonged to him.

I'm so angry with myself. I wasn't that kind of person. I never wanted anyone who didn't want me, at the slightest insincerity, I would cut off the conversation and go my own way. So I didn't have any friends now, and I never had a real friend. I was not a brazen, prideless, self-respecting girl. I don't understand how Wonwoo makes me do this...

But I still can't stop loving him, and that's why I'm so angry with myself.

[wonwoonlight]

there’s not a single star in the sky | xu minghao & kim mingyu

➝ Minghao x Reader / Mingyu x Reader // not a love triangle

➝ soulmate!au // angst // somewhat slowburn // fluff in between? // a journey of acceptance and moving on

➝ total word count: 12k

➝ notes, warnings: my sorry attempt of an angst <//3, it doesn't end badly i promise, curses, food, mentions of death, OC is trying to hold back her tears for like.. 80% of the fic, probably some grammatical errors and typos, not beta-ed D: i purposefully write some stuff vaguely. that's it, tell me if there's more!

➝ summary: he’s your soulmate. so why did the universe also decide he’s not the one you’re going to spend your forever with?

or, alternatively:

Minghao was there to fill the space Mingyu left behind; but you'd never expected to what extent he was meant to do it for.

➝ A/N: it's late and i didn't mean this to be your bday fic but.. happy bday hao!! i'll shut up and say more at the end. pls enjoy and tell me what you thought!!

여기 이 세상이 아름다운 건 the reason why this word is beautiful

그대가 머문 흔적들 때문에 아마 is probably because it has traces of you [Jo Sungmo - Do You Know]

When you first met Minghao, he was there to be your roommate.

It's been months since Mingyu left, almost a year, really, and as much as it still hurts and the thought wells up tears in your eyes, Jeonghan is right when he said it's time you need to pick up the pieces broken by the love of your life.

–the first step being moving out of the place you had bought together with him. Saying it hurts is starting to get repetitive at this point, but it really does and you have no idea how many times you’ve broken down crying the more you pack, your eyes red beyond measure and your chest physically aches that it’s hard to breathe. 

The apartment is practically empty except for the furniture, nothing inside screams you or Mingyu anymore except for one single photograph and it sends you into a spiral of sadness that you can’t comprehend how to handle. Your eyes wander to the empty wall on top of the TV, already rid of photographs Mingyu had taken and decided to frame because “angel, this is a masterpiece!” like he didn’t say it everytime he decided to frame more pictures and hang them on the walls (mostly of you both together).

You close your eyes and exhale a deep breath at the memories, hating the way your lips still tremble at the thought of him, then gently wipe the tears lining up your eyes before they turn into yet another waterfall.

There’s only one big picture left on the wall, a photograph of a daffodil field you both had gone to two years ago and is easily the most beautiful place you’ve ever stepped your feet on. You insisted that the picture stays though Jeonghan said it’d be better to take everything down. But as much as you know his memories hurt you, you don’t want to erase him just because you’re struggling; that picture is the one Mingyu loved the most and you think it’s only right to let it be.

So it can guard your home once you’re no longer there.

Kim Mingyu is still the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in your life and you want to keep his memories with you no matter what.

“When is your cousin moving in?” Jeonghan asks as you put the last of your belongings. Most of your stuff is already in your new place, and while you couldn’t bear to sell the apartment, you heard from your mom that your cousin is looking for a place in your area because she’s starting university soon; so she’s going to move in and rent your place at least until she finishes her study. 

You’re not that close with her, but know her well enough to know that she’s nice and isn’t the type to mess around. Which is good, because if you’re close with her then you’d be finding reasons to visit just to be in the apartment. This way, you know your place will be in good hands and, for now, that’s the only thing you can ask for.

“In two weeks. She’ll start moving her stuff next week though.” It’s weird to be talking about someone else living in a place where your love bloomed, but it’s really for the best and you understand that it’s getting more unhealthy for you if you continue your way of living the way you do. Even one year is already pushing it.

“You’re still moving tomorrow though, right?” your best friend nudges you, and you nod as you try to shrug the weight lingering on your chest. Your silence concerns him despite your nod, so Jeonghan takes your hand and squeezes it lightly. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

“It’s okay, Han.” You smile weakly. As much as you want Jeonghan to hold you through the night because you know you’ll be crying, you want to spend your last night here by yourself. You want to cry one last time so you can let everything go. You want to bask in Mingyu’s memories, in his fading scent, and in the place where the love you shared with him grew the most.

And as you cry yourself to sleep that night in your empty bedroom, screaming for Mingyu’s name into your pillow again and again like it’d bring him back to you, you think you can feel his arms holding you once again the moment your consciousness gives up, almost like a dream you wish you never wake up from.

Your new roommate is perceptive and you’re not sure yet whether you like it or not.

“You look tired.” He smiles politely, though you can tell that the look in his eyes is closest to what you’d describe as pitiful.

Of course you look pitiful, you woke up with your head pounding due to your excessive crying the night before and you could barely open your eyes because of the very same reason.

“I was going to talk to you about rules and all that but I think that can wait.”

“Thank you,” you say without offering any reason, you don’t owe him any explanations anyway. “I just need some sleep though, can we talk about it later tonight?”

Minghao nods, the smile on his face so warm that your heart would probably skip a beat if not for your current predicament. You wince at the way your heart clenches, Mingyu’s name once again echoing in your head. Feeling heat creeping up against your neck, you reach up to touch the skin behind your ear, a habit you always do, something Mingyu teased you about since the time you went on your first date together.

Ah, fuck. You really should stop yourself from thinking about him too much.

“It must’ve been hard moving all that stuff. Have a good rest,” Minghao ushers you before you can say anything, which you thankfully nod at, and you immediately bolt to your new room before you embarrassingly cry in front of him out of nowhere. 

You don’t need to know Minghao hears your cry because you didn’t close the door properly, his concerned eyes rooted to the floor as he closes the door for you, the soft click barely even a noise upon your heart silenced sobs.

It’s later that night that he sees you again, already fresh in new clothes and looking comparably better than earlier though your puffy eyes are a dead giveawa. Minghao has never been one to pry, but his heart is made to care for others and he’s trying hard not to ask if you’re okay, to pretend like the sound of you crying didn’t tug something in his heart.

Xu Minghao is born to care for those around him but he’s not sure why you crying hurts him this much when you’re practically a stranger renting the available room in his house.

“Want to order something?” He forces himself to say, wondering if he’s crossing any line; do you even have any intention to befriend him? He’s still not sure why you’re moving into his place, the most he has heard from you was you’re simply looking for a new environment, and Junhui, a mutual friend of the both of you, has only told him that you’re going through a lot so he might want to be careful overall.

When Minghao asks if there’s anything he should know out of concern, the older guy has simply said it’s not his story to tell and reminds him to be mindful if you’re ever visibly struggling in front of him.

“I was wondering what to eat for dinner. You can join me if you want. It’s okay if you don’t, though.”

Unexpectedly, you send a soft smile his way with a nod, then make your way to sit on the single sofa next to him and hug the cushion on your lap. “Sure. What’s good around here?”

“Mmm. What do you feel like eating?” He turns to look at you, only to find your fingers playing with the skin near your ear as you purse your lips in thought. It’s the first time he has the chance to actually look at you, and he scolds himself for being a teenager when it pops into his mind how soft your skin looks followed by the question of how it’d feel under his touch.

“Anything’s fine except for pasta.” 

“You don’t like pasta?”

“I do. I think they’re too heavy if we eat them now though.”

Minghao hums in agreement, but you say he can order whatever he feels like eating because you can eat just about anything as long as it’s not too creamy at the moment. “Surprise me,” you tell him, your voice a little too cheerful for someone who was crying a few hours ago. He tries to get it off his mind though, because it’s none of his business and you’re not even friends yet at this point.

He doesn’t even know why it bothers him that much. Perhaps he’s been thinking about Junhui’s words too much, be careful and be mindful. As someone who’s used to catering to other’s feelings, Minghao finds it hard to stay still when he knows someone near him is struggling. It’s obvious from your body language though; the way you’re internally exhausted but are trying your best to look okay.

Maybe moving to his place is your first step to overcoming whatever you’re going through. Whatever it is, Minghao decides that’s where he should stop assuming and reminds himself once again that it’s none of his business.

“So,” he starts after ordering food. He figures he should at least talk about the house rules if there’s no other topic at hand. “I’m not very strict about rules, to be honest. Some of the rules I always tell people are just basic ones like: let me know if you’re going to have friends around, though I’m not too comfortable with anyone staying overnight, so just make sure to ask me first before you let anyone stay over; don’t be too loud; and let’s clean after ourselves? These apply to the both of us though, so I promise I’ll stand by them too.”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod in agreement. He’s right. Those are basic rules, he’s just asking you to have manners and be aware that you’re living with someone else. But you can tell from his first impression alone that Minghao is the kinda person that’s considerate and proper. He didn’t ask for anything too personal when he first met you to talk about your possible coliving situation, and it was easy to tell that Minghao was just looking for someone that’s…, well, also proper.

He was just the right amount of friendly. You didn’t talk with him for that long that day, but you could tell that you both passed each other’s vibe check and you were glad when Minghao called a week later to say you’re welcome to move in anytime the month after if you’re still looking for a place to stay.

“I don’t have that many friends so you don’t have to worry.”

He chuckles at that, glad that you’re comfortable enough to make a joke. "We'll get along just fine then."

The silence after that is a bit awkward, though it's not enough to make anyone uncomfortable. You wonder if you're simply imagining Minghao's extra careful words and gestures or if he’s simply that type of person to begin with. 

He does seem the type to be certain with his lines.

"You're home a lot, then?" He tries to stay on the housing topic, a very safe topic that hopefully wouldn't cross any line.

“Yeah. I really mostly go out when my friends invite me or if I want to take a walk, else I’m basically holed up in my room.” You shrug then return the question, though from the few times you dropped by the house when you moved your things over you can already tell that Minghao is about the same.

“Mmm. I enjoy both my time inside and outside,” he purses his lips in thoughts, a tilt of his head accompanying his words. “Depends on the day, I think. Sometimes I actively try to find places to try out, sometimes I’m happy to be in my studio and paint for the whole day.”

“You paint?” Your tone is more excited than you intend it to be, though it really makes sense because you notice there are a lot of paintings throughout the living room. And now you wonder if those are his own paintings, which Minghao shyly nods to, the sheepish smile on his face growing the more you sing praises to his talent. “Wow. I’ve always wanted to paint, you know? But my hands are not made for art so…”

“That’s nonsense.” He frowns like your sentence personally offends him, his words bringing tears to your eyes before you even realize. “Art is for everyone. Have you actually tried painting?”

‘Angel, that is not a painting!’ Mingyu laughed with the entirety of his chest, not minding your pout even the tiniest bit. ‘That’s just doodles. Gosh, you’re so cute.’

‘I told you I didn’t want to do this!’ you whined as you tried to get away from his embrace. Seriously, this guy was a good 20cm taller than you and he liked to just bend down and bury his face onto your neck like it’s not physically uncomfortable for him to do so. ‘I’m not going to let you plan another date.’

Mingyu simply grinned and hugged you tighter at that, knowing full well that you didn’t mean any of it.

‘Art is for everyone though,’ he whispered with a laugh, his lips upon your cheek. ‘You did great. We should try watercoloring sometimes.’

“Did… I say something wrong?” Minghao’s worried voice brings you back to the present, and you blink back the tears before they actually fall down, your voice caught in your throat.

“No.” You clear your throat then excuse yourself to the bathroom in hope Minghao doesn’t notice anything. From the way he simply nods, you hope that’s the case, but the gentle eyes full of concern following you until the bathroom door closes certainly implies otherwise. 

Minghao brushes the mark near his collarbone, its jet black color reminding him of things he’d rather not remember anymore. It used to be so vibrant with color, then they bleed out at once one day, turning into such a dark black it contrasts against his skin.

There’s something else Junhui said that has been bothering him, something that he thinks is the main reason why he’s more attentive to you than anything.

‘I can’t say much. But if there’s anyone who understands her struggle, it might be you. Just… don’t push her, yeah?’

He’s not sure how close you are exactly with Junhui. But if the older guy is able to say that, he supposes you’re either closer than he’s assumed, or you’re related in more ways that he could imagine. You did find out he had an available room from Junhui.

It doesn’t feel right to go through yours or Junhui’s social media just for the sake of it. But, from what he remembers, you definitely don’t appear enough on Junhui’s account for you to be in his close circle. Plus, if you’re actually close, the older guy would’ve probably brought you to hang out with him a long time ago; Junhui likes to blend all of his friends, after all. So you’re probably a friend of a friend, or there’s a situation that Junhui happens to know.

Whatever it is, it bothers him. Are you struggling like he was?

Minghao bites his lip and grazes his soulmate mark again, why is he talking like he’s over it now? As much as he’s coping, said that he’s okay now because that's all he’s managed to be, he’s still far from acceptance. 

He’s still far from making peace with it.

His eyes flicker to you again as you return and sit back down on the sofa. You force a perfect smile, one that would fool anyone into thinking you’re actually fine. Not him though, because if there’s anything he recognizes, it’s the emptiness in your eyes despite the way they turn into crescents. He’s practiced the same exact smile way too many times not to recognize it on others.

If there’s anything Minghao knows, it’s the eyes of people who are hurting.

And if there’s anything else he understands, it’s that they don’t always want to talk about it. That everyone hangs on differently and he doesn’t know you well enough to know how you cope and how you hurt.

So he does what he usually do: offer comfort in the subtlest way possible by change the topic.

“But, then again, it’s not for everyone,” he shrugs almost nonchalantly. If anyone else is in the room, he’s sure they would notice the way he’s blatantly staring at you in worry. But, fortunately for Minghao, there’s no one and you’re too busy calming yourself down to notice. “What do you do in your spare time?”

“Actually,” you shake your head like you’ve made a resolve, like you didn’t even hear his question. Your voice falters a little as you say your next words, but Minghao listens attentively as he pretends not to notice the quiver in your gaze. “I would like to try painting. I did it a long time ago but… maybe it’s time to try doing it again.”

“You sure?” he questions, something weird stirring in his heart at how determined you look. It’s most likely the romantic side in him; he’s always liked seeing people doing their best. There’s just something so beautiful about people who try, and he supposes it’s the fact that he knows the look in your eyes, recognizes a similar kind of pain reflected in them, then knowing that you’re doing your best to be okay again.

It’s almost like he’s seeing himself a few months back (has it really not been a year since he’s started to learn how to accept?), and while his heart warms at the fact that you’re trying, it makes him wonder if this was how people felt when they saw him before.

“Yeah. I think it’d be fun,” you say vaguely, knowing that your tone itself sounds unsure. Still, you’re thankful that Minghao doesn’t say anything about it as he nods and says that he’d send you the address of a cafe that allows their customers to draw on a paper and turn the result into a keyring; that he thinks that would be casual enough for you to try and have fun because an actual painting studio might feel suffocating if you’re not into it 

You falter at the mention of the familiar cafe, one that you haven’t gone to but remember Mingyu had mentioned before. You can probably still find its name and address somewhere on your phone, because Mingyu had insisted you make a list of places you should go together to, though you gave up updating it along the way

“It’s the one with a sloth mascot, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you been?” Minghao bites his lip at the slight tremble of your lip, did he say something wrong again?

“No, actually.” You force a small smile, one that looks sad, if anything, and Minghao’s heart is so close to breaking that it’s almost stupid. Why is he so emotional today? You’re just his new roommate, for God’s sake. “But I… I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

A heavy silence envelopes the room after that; you, deep in your mind, and Minghao, unsure what to say. Considering Junhui’s words and the way he sees himself in you, he dares to jump into conclusion and wonders what could possibly happen to your soulmate for you to be this way; to be constantly in and out of your memory in the span of thirty minutes he’s been talking with you.

Did they leave you like his soulmate did? He winces at the thought of her, the urge to reach for his mark makes his fingers ball into fists. But he waves it away and, thankfully, the bell rings indicating the arrival of your food.

Fortunately, the food is enough distraction for you two. You hum in delight once Minghao opens the packaging of the food, the smell filling the room immediately that your stomach growls a little. You’re both more hungry than you thought also, because the food is gone faster than the time it takes to arrive, and the both of you wish each other good night after cleaning up.

You’re not exactly sleepy, but you’re mentally drained and you’re afraid at how many times you almost poured your struggle to Minghao. You don’t like crying in front of anyone but Jeonghan, don’t like the feeling of anyone looking at you in pity or even concern. You really don’t.

But there’s something about Xu Minghao that makes you feel okay about being vulnerable; something about him that makes you want to open your heart and serve all its content on a platter for him to see. Or perhaps you’re just more emotional because you’ve officially moved out of your place and it’s your first day in your new home.

You hope that’s really the case.

Because the first scenario scares you a little too much.

You don’t want to feel that way.

So you spend your night talking with Jeonghan until you fall asleep, talking about nothing and everything so you wouldn’t think of Mingyu or how easy it is to be off guard in front of Minghao.

You tell Jeonghan you want to go to the sloth cafe and he offers to come with you, his voice wavering when you mention you want to try painting.

You dream of Mingyu in front of an easel that night, painting a field of yellow flowers with a smile on his face and the stars in his eyes.

“Oh, are you going somewhere?” Minghao asks when he sees you all dressed up on the sofa, though the way you’re slumped against it makes him doubt his question. “Or did you just come back?”

You scrunch your nose at the question, then sit up and hug the cushion against your chest. “I meant to go to the sloth cafe today. But Jeonghan is suddenly called for a work emergency, so…”

The words come out before he thinks it thoroughly, and Minghao almost hits himself in the head once they escape his lips. “I can go with you if you want?”

Unexpectedly, your face lights up as your eyes meet his, making him a little taken aback at the enthusiasm.

You really do want to go there, but the thought of going there by yourself scares you a little but you know that if you don’t go now when you’ve made up your mind, you’ll push it back over and over again until eventually you decide you’d just not go. 

“Will you, really?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind going with me.” Minghao shrugs. It’s too late to back out and he’s glad if he could help you one way or another. It’s been quite some time since he visited that cafe and he doesn’t have anything to do, anyway. At your nod, he asks again. “When do you want to go?”

“I’m free the whole day, if you don’t mind going today…” You trail off, feeling a little awkward if you’re being completely honest. It’s been two weeks since you’ve moved in, and while you’ve passed the awkward phase, you’re still not there yet when it comes to favors.

“Let me change real quick then.” He definitely didn’t expect you to say yes when he offered, but now that you’ve asked him… Might as well, right? 

The ride to the cafe isn’t as awkward as you suppose it would be, the radio filling in the silence between the two of you when you’re not talking. Minghao asks if you have anything in mind you want to draw already, and you say you actually have no idea, that you want to see if there are any easy examples you can follow because you’re not gifted enough to draw anything by yourself.

“What about you?”

“Hmm… Any requests?”

You laugh at this, and then hum to yourself to see if there’s anything you’d like to see. For a second, you wonder if you’re crossing the line by asking him to draw for you in a way, but if it’s Minghao himself who asks, it should be okay, right?

“Flowers?” Your voice falters as you think of the last dream you have of Mingyu. Yellow flowers, wasn’t it?

You hear his smile before you see it, and when you turn to him curiously, Minghao offers you a nod and asks again if you have any flowers you prefer. But you don’t really know your flowers, so you tell him you want to see anything vibrant, that it’s up to him whatever flower exactly.

“Vibrant, huh?” You wonder if you imagined the slight curt in his tone, but Minghao nods once again and says he’ll see what he can do.

“You don’t have to, though!” You say, suddenly conscious that you’re making him draw something for you.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know what to draw, anyway.” He grins to assure you, but you can tell that there’s something going on inside his head that you don’t dare to ask.

“Alright… But don’t feel bad if you want to draw something else, okay?” You manage to say, hoping that you don’t sound like you’re putting a distance between the two of you. Minghao changes the topic from then, and it’s not long until you find yourself arriving at the cafe.

It’s weird, what you’re feeling. You’re both afraid and excited, as art has always been something that you associate with Mingyu. You never do it with anyone else, or even by yourself, for that matter. Mingyu was the only reason you’re even interested in it, and you’re pretty sure you would never even try if it wasn’t for him.

And now you’re here. About to go to a cafe where you can draw at, a cafe you had promised Mingyu you’d go together with…

And now you’re here.

With someone else.

“Let’s go?” Minghao’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, something you’re incredibly thankful for because you’re just about to spiral into a hurricane of emotion otherwise.

Half an hour later, you find yourself sitting side by side with Minghao as the busy sound of the cafe fills the silence between you two. You straighten your back as you exhale a deep breath, the sound of it makes Minghao chuckle from beside you. 

“What flower is that?” You glance at his drawing, intrigued by the amount of details Minghao pours into it despite not having any reference whatsoever. He’s drawing by memory, you assume, as you can’t see his phone anywhere near him, and now that you really look at his drawing, you think you’ve seen the flower before. 

Minghao pauses before he answers you, his gaze fixated on the paper in front of him. “Forsythia.”

You hum as you take out your phone, looking up the flower to see pictures of them. It’s when you quietly mutter to yourself that Minghao turns to you, a small smile on his face as he sees you admire the flowers.

“You know them?”

You shake your head, then close your phone and return to the paper in front of you. You’ve drawn nothing but the night sky, poorly drawn hills, and a few street lamps along the street. It’s nowhere near good drawing, but at least you can tell for sure that those objects are identifiable and that’s enough win for you.

Like going here trying to draw.

Like going here without shedding a tear even though your lips trembled when you step into the cafe.

That’s enough win for now.

“Can I ask something?” his voice brings you out of your thoughts, and when you nod, his voice is hesitant despite your okay. “Why… is it so dark?”

“What is?”

“Your drawing.”

Huh. Is it?

“Is there any reason you’re not drawing the moon or stars?”

You blink at the question, then look again at the night sky you’ve been drawing the past thirty minutes. The constellation mark behind your ear suddenly stings a little; have you come to hate astronomical objects so much that you end up drawing nothing but the sky without even realizing?

“It just… didn’t occur to me.” You offer him a small smile, your colored pencil hovering upon the night sky. “I can’t draw them now though, can I?”

He hums as he skims your drawing, then his eyes glance at the pack of colored pencils next to you.

“Yeah. It’d be hard to draw the moon because you’ve colored most of the night sky.” He nods and smiles your way, one that you return with a tilt of your head. “It’s okay though. It’s still pretty as it is. Some nights we can’t see the stars and the moon anyway. Doesn’t really matter, right?”

…Doesn’t really matter, huh? You bite your lip as you ponder over his words, your mark feels like it’s tingling behind your ear.

“Can I ask something too?” You say after some time, eyes still focused on the flower he’s drawing.

“Sure.”

“I notice there are a lot of flowers in your paintings back home. Is there a reason why you like painting flowers so much?” His movement pauses at your question, and, for a second, you wonder if you’re intruding. But Minghao answers before you can retract your question, his hand moves again to fill in the color in the petal.

“It’s my soulmate mark.” His tone is much too nonchalant for such a topic, but as much as Minghao can tell you’re hurting by the look of your eyes, you can also tell he’s hiding by the tightness in his voice.

It’s very subtle, but from your point of view, it can’t be anymore obvious that Minghao is also struggling, presumably about something along the same line as you. Soulmate isn’t a sensitive topic for most people, but now that you’ve seen him this way, you can tell at once that you both share the same reluctance towards the issue.

At least it’s also clear that he’s coping far better than you are. Whatever’s happened between him and his soulmate, you hope it’s not as bad as what befell you.

“You wouldn’t know which one though,” he jokes to divert the topic. It’s more for your sake than it is for him, you feel like. He probably knows you’re not sure what to comment on that.

“I’m sure they’re pretty either way.” You comment vaguely, suddenly itching to touch the constellation behind your ear. You hesitate before you continue, unsure if it’s okay to bring it up again, but you also feel bad and you let your feelings override yourself for once. “I’m sorry I made you draw flowers.”

Minghao completely stops at that, and even though you’re not sure what you were expecting, you surely didn’t expect amusement clouding his face when you meet his gaze.

“Why are you sorry though?”

“Just felt like I needed to apologize.” You shrug, your voice gets gradually smaller as you continue. “Seems like it’s personal to you.”

“It’s fine. Like you said, I do paint a lot of flowers.” His smile is genuine, and you’re glad that he really does sound amused if anything.

Your conversation shifts from there, the two of you swift through light-hearted topics as you finish your drawings. You watch as the staff turn your drawing into an acrylic key ring, a happy smile on your face as you look at the result in your hand.

It’s definitely much better than you expected, and you think it’s good that you went with Minghao because, had it been Jeonghan, you would’ve cried thinking about Mingyu the whole time. You’re glad you went with your roommate, someone between a stranger and a friend, someone that you need to be careful with but close enough that it’s not uncomfortable.

“Yours is so pretty…” You mutter in fascination as you peek at Minghao’s, happy to take the key ring from him when he asks if you want to look closely.

“You can take it.” He says with the entirety of his heart, the grin on his face painted with pride. It’s one thing to have people sing praises to his work, but it’s another story altogether when he sees someone like you who looks at his creation like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. When you ask if he’s sure you can have it like it doesn’t make sense for him to just give it away, he chuckles and nods. “You look like you’d appreciate it. That’s good enough for me.”

“Thank you!” You clutch the keyring between your palms, telling him you’d take good care of it. “I’d offer you mine but…”

“I’ll take it.” He offers you his palm, and then chuckles some more when you ask again if he’s sure about his choice. “You doubt me a lot, huh?”

“It’s just… Mine isn’t as pretty though.” You scrunch your nose as you hand him your result. Yes, it’s better than you expected, but still…

“I saw how much effort you put into that.” He begins, his thumb caressing your keyring. “And I did say it looks pretty, no? I wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.”

Whispering a small thank you, Minghao almost laughs at how shy you look at his compliment. He looks at the keyring again, a picture of street lamps beneath the night sky. Then his mind pictures your focused frown when you were drawing them, and then to the conversation he had with you almost two weeks ago about this very cafe; how you were holding back tears and how you had reacted when he brought up the cafe.

And now here you are, talking animatedly about how the experience has been much more fun than you expected it to be. And even though he did catch you spacing out from time to time, he notices how determined you are from the beginning. Determined to do what, he can only guess.

He thinks he’ll think of you now everytime he looks at the night sky.

He gazes at the keyring yet again, and then at you next to him.

He thinks he has never seen an effort so beautiful.

Mingyu loved seeing you with your hair up; a pony tail, a bun, anything that let him see your whole face and didn’t cover your soulmate mark if only a little. The location of your soulmate mark doesn’t really allow you a lot of hairstyles that won’t cover it, but if you have your hair up, you’d at least be able to see half of the constellation that stops just a little below your ear.

That said, you wear your hair down most of the time after he’s left, having developed a habit of hiding the black constellation scattered there. The most you’d do to your hair is to tie half of it, which doesn't happen a lot.

“I have a question.” Minghao says as he pours your empty glass of wine once again. Minghao was chilling by himself when you returned from the convenience store, and when you saw the wine bottle on the coffee table, you had been quick to ask if you could join his little routine.

“Shoot.” Undeniably, you’ve gotten closer with him the past few months. You hadn’t expected to find a friend when you first moved in, but Minghao clicks with you in ways you haven’t really clicked with others that you can easily say he’s one of your close friends now.

It’s different, what you have with him.

Jeonghan is your voice of reason as much as he is the devil’s advocate; he’d push and push and push but he also knows when to pull you back when necessary. He cares for you like a best friend and an older brother, having his own way to change between the two roles accordingly.

You’re not the closest with Lisa. She’s not the kind of friend you’d look for first when you need someone to talk to, but you only have good memories with her since high school and it’s always laughter filling your cheeks everytime you meet up with her. You trust her when it comes to it, and she’s a token of happy memories you keep in your life.

Mingyu… Mingyu is–was your soulmate. He understood you without you saying anything, he knew when to leave you alone and when to coax you into telling him what’s bothering you. He spoiled you like there’s no tomorrow, listened when your rambling didn’t make any sense, and held you in his arms on nights you didn’t want to talk to anyone. He’s loud with his affection, never hesitated to show you his love even though he knew you’re never insecure when it came to that.

But Minghao… he observes and hypothesizes. He’s calculated and he’s silent with his concern. He doesn’t always ask when he thinks something might be up, simply leaves you be and you’d find a cup of iced chocolate or an ice cream with a note that lets you know they belong to you the next day. He pretends he doesn’t know you’re crying even though you’re sure you look like a mess, he’d just ask if you want to eat something or if he should just order online.

You don’t have a lot of friends, but from the few that you have, Minghao is the most like you.

And now that you think about it, you somehow gravitate towards those much different that you are; people who are loud in the best way possible. Which is why your friendship with Minghao feels different in ways that you can’t really describe. 

“Why do you never tie your hair?” You have expected Minghao to ask this question sooner, if you’re being honest, as you’re sure that he’s noticed this since before. You’ve caught him eyeing your long hair from time to time, mostly when you two are out and it’s hot outside while you stubbornly let your hair down for the sake of covering your ear.

“Does it bother you?” You ask while sipping on your wine. It’s your fourth glass already, and even though you’re not usually a fan of alcohol, there would be days like this when you just feel like letting loose and crave for some.

Minghao shakes his head and changes the song playing in the background, finding something softer than the jazz instrument he played earlier. It’s another lazy Saturday night for the two of you, and between liking to stay at home and your somewhat similar personality, it’s really not surprising how easy it was to be close to Minghao in the span of five months.

How could you not when the two of you almost always spend your days together, even more your weekends? Jeonghan would join you from time to time, or he’d drag you out and there would be days when Minghao also tags along.

So, really, it’s safe to say you’re with Xu Minghao almost 70% of the time except for the time when you’re at work.

“Not really. Just wondering because it looks hot to go around like that all the time.”

You hum as you contemplate your next words. You could’ve just brushed it off like you always do when people ask, but a part of you has finally arrived at a place where it wants to let him know about Mingyu even only a little.

After all, there are days when you share your pain with him. None of you really talk about it, but you’d both vaguely mention about sad romance from time to time; enough for the two of you to be almost sure that, yes, there’s something wrong about the soulmate situations upon you both.

Perhaps it’s the alcohol in your system. Or perhaps it’s the dream you had of Mingyu last night, his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

That’s probably why you feel like drinking today.

While moving in with Minghao proves to be a good step towards moving, it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped crying when Mingyu appears in your dreams, which no longer happens quite often. There are still days when you’d read his old messages and stare at old pictures. When you’d open his Instagram account that’s no longer active and scroll through his aesthetically arranged feed.

It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but you still get choked up for obvious reasons.

At least he no longer resides in your mind on a daily basis, though the thought also weighs like a boulder upon your heart.

You… want to move on from him, but you also don’t.

The amount of love you hold for Mingyu is more than you think possible, it’s overwhelming and it’s a burden at times. You didn’t think you could love someone like you did Mingyu, soulmate or not.

You don’t mind though. Even though the love is heavy and you don’t think you can ever love anyone–anything as much as you love Mingyu, you don’t mind and you still want to do it.

You still want to do it now even if he’s no longer with you. Even if his scent has completely faded from every single belonging of his that you bring with you to your new place. 

The fact that you’re actually getting used to a life without him hurts.

It hurts almost as much as the day you lost him.

It hurts because you’re close to forgetting how he even sounded if not for the hoard of videos of him in your phone.

Aren’t you supposed to be together forever? To hold each other every night and spend the rest of your life basking in each other’s warmth?

Aren’t you supposed to be soulmates? What the fuck went up there that decided you’re not going to have a happy ending with your soulmate?

You want to be okay without him.

You don't want to be okay without him.

Minghao’s concerned voice brings you out of your trance, and it’s only when you taste something salty in your lips that you realize you’ve been crying. 

For all the time Minghao pretends he’s never noticed you crying, this can’t be one of them. Not when your tears come out of nowhere when you were spacing out for a few seconds upon his question. And when he asks in a hushed whisper whether you want him to hold you, you don’t even answer as you dive straight to his embrace, your tears refusing to stop now that you’re in someone’s arms.

He doesn’t seem to mind though and, for some reason, the way his arms gently circle around you makes you cry even harder. It’s such a contrast with Mingyu’s tight embrace, he always made sure to hug you hard, something to remind you that he’s there and you have him with you.

Minghao's hold is careful but sure, the way he hugs you is almost ticklish, like you’d break if he hugs you just a little too tight. Except for the few times you fell asleep on his shoulder upon movie nights, this is the first time you’ve ever been this physically close with Minghao.

You end up telling a gist of Mingyu that night, tying up your hair to show him your soulmate mark. If Minghao’s surprised at its color, he doesn’t show it, and it’s you who gasp in shock when he tugs the neckline of his shirt to show you his own blackened soulmate mark near his collarbone.

IMinghao starts talking first, as he figures it might be easier for you if you know he’s been through something along the same line. He never really likes talking about his soulmate, doesn’t really have any reason to do so either. But looking at you like this, it’s the urge to comfort you that overrides his usual reluctance.

If his pain can be anything other than pain… if it can even help someone in some way, perhaps it’d be better to share the story he’s been holding to himself.

“She left me for someone else.” You want to wipe the weak smile off his face, want to tell him that he doesn’t have to act like he’s okay because you can’t even begin to imagine the amount of pain Minghao went through. “Said she found someone better and she doesn’t believe in soulmates. That we’re too different and believed the fact that we’re soulmates just proved that fate is nothing but stupid games.”

You know whatever words you offer him wouldn’t be enough.

You know.

You know because nothing anyone says would be enough to comfort you.

So you share him your pain, show him that he’s not alone and you know how it feels to be left behind.

The story you tell him is a very oversimplified version of the whole thing, that your soulmate is no longer with you and it’s still hard even though you’re coping. Though you do tell him that you did move into his house due to the same person.

Minghao’s gaze doesn’t falter as you tell him a very small part of your story, just enough to know you’re both hurting in the same way. That you’ve both lost the people who're supposed to be your destiny regardless of the reasons why. He doesn’t hesitate when he wipes your tears with his thumb, the look in his eyes is anything but pity.

Your lips still tremble despite your tears stopping, making it hard for you to continue talking even if you’re not sure how much you’re going to tell Minghao that night. But in a moment of weakness, your gaze falls to his lips the same time his eyes fall to yours. And when your eyes find each other a second later, you have no idea who makes the first move and how your lips end up upon his.

The kiss you share with him is soft; your lips upon his over and over again, your palms firmly planted on his shoulders as his stays on your waist. You have no idea either how long the kiss lasts for, but the kiss is sad as much as it is comforting, your fingers balling into fists as you grasp his shirt to get yourself together.

You wonder if Minghao can also taste the salty tears falling from your eyes upon his lips.

It’s him who pulls away first, and he doesn’t give you a chance to meet his eyes as he pushes you into the juncture of his neck and kisses the top of your head.

For the first time, Mingyu’s smile is sad when he appears in your dream.

He’s trying to tell you something, but there’s no sound coming out of his lips and your eyes are too blurry to make sense of his words. You’ve missed him so much, and you hate that he looks concerned when it’s been so long since you’ve dreamed of him.

You can still feel the fluttering warmth of Mingyu’s lips on your forehead when you wake up, only to find Minghao holding you to his chest as you both lay on the couch, his eyes closed and his protective arms firm around your figure.

You're not avoiding Minghao.

You've honestly just been plagued by the last dream you had of Mingyu that you’ve been a little dysfunctional for the past week. You haven’t got the chance to tell Jeonghan about the dream nor what went down that night, and you plan on telling him tonight in the comfort of your bedroom just in case you’d be crying again.

You’ve texted Minghao Jeonghan might be sleeping over that night, though he might also go home if he suddenly decides otherwise. You stare at your phone as you bite your lip, hating how you can even tell how awkward you two are even over texts.

[14:22] Hao, is it ok if Jeonghan stays the night? He might also suddenly decide to go home tho!!! I promise we’ll stay quiet

[18:45] Minghao 🍀: Sorry, I thought I replied already. 

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: And sure. You know I don’t mind Jeonghan.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: Thanks for the heads up.

Minghao doesn’t usually answer late, and it’s worrying you a little that it takes him almost four long hours to answer you. Isn’t he working from home today?

You really need to get back to your senses and fix whatever weird situation between you and your roommate. Though, truthfully, you know it’s just you making it weird because Minghao has been acting like usual. The smile he gave you when you both woke up in each other’s arms still haunts you among other things.

And while it’s true you’re not avoiding him, it’s also true you don’t know how to face him after that day.

“When’s Jeonghan picking you up?” Lisa snaps you out of your trance, sipping the last of her coffee. It’s been quite some time since you met up with her, and her text has come right when you need a happy distraction so you’re more than happy to accept the invitation and meet her after work, which is why your hang out with Jeonghan has been pushed accordingly.

It’s the weekend tomorrow, anyway.

“In a bit.” As usual, spending time with Lisa means having a good time. Usually, it’s followed by a good night sleep on your part, but as much as you love spending time with her, the thought of Mingyu, Minghao, and wanting to talk to Jeonghan about them clouds your mind to the point where you’re sure you won’t be having a good night sleep tonight. “He’s stuck in traffic.”

It’s about fifteen minutes later that Jeonghan comes in, and he sits down next to you to talk with Lisa for a bit before you part ways with her. You listen to him talk about work as he drives, offering your thoughts on the matters that you think would help.

When he pulls into Minghao's driveways you stop him from getting off the car, ripping the bandaid with one go because you don’t know how to do it otherwise.

“Me and Minghao kissed last week.”

Jeonghan looks at you wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the right thing to say.

“Just telling you now because I… well, there’s a chance Minghao might catch it if I tell you later.” 

He stares at you in what you’d describe as worry, but before you can ask him to explain, he grabs your hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “But you’re okay?”

“Somewhat.” You squeeze his hand back. “I’ll tell you everything after dinner.”

Surprisingly, Junhui’s voice greets you the moment you open the door. He’s speaking Chinese, your mind registers, and if his tone indicates anything, he’s upset and he’s nagging. You don’t see Minghao anywhere though, and you find Junhui by himself in the kitchen, hanging up on whoever’s on the other line before he slips his phone back into his pocket.

“Jun?”

“Oh. Hi. Want some soup?” He says like it’s normal that he’s here cooking without the owner of the house.

“What are you doing?”

“Minghao’s down with a high fever.” He shakes his head as he stirs the soup in front of him. “He’s sleeping now.”

Minghao’s sick? Is that why you didn’t see him at all this morning? Why didn’t he tell you, though? You could’ve brought him something had you known.

“Can I… talk to you for a bit?” Junhui asks, his eyes flickering to Jeonghan behind you. The older guy seems to get the message, quickly leaving the kitchen and into the living room before you even answer. “Something happened between you and Hao, huh?”

For all it’s worth, you know Junhui has always been a protective friend. You’ve never been particularly close with him, but he’s close with Mingyu and you know what kinda person Junhui is courtesy of Mingyu’s words. He’s playful and he’s caring. Mingyu used to say Junhui isn’t the kind of person he would want to be enemies with, that he’s glad he’s friends with the older guy.

So to have him look at you with a piercing gaze, it’s hard for you not to deflate under his eyes.

“You don’t need to tell me anything. He didn’t either.” He starts, and then hesitates before he continues. “I… How are you?”

Your eyes prickle with tears at his question, because you know he’s not just asking about you in general. It’s there even if he doesn’t say it outright: how are you coping without Mingyu? 

You try your best to blink the tears back, but fail when Junhui reaches out and pats your head. Your palm blocks the sob out of your mouth, and it’s when Junhui says his next words that your sobs turn into pathetic whimpers.

“Don’t think about it too much, okay? I know it’s hard without him. But if there’s anyone who can take care of you like he did… I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to take that chance.”

It’s hard to listen to him and not cry. Not when you know how close Junhui was with Mingyu. They’re not the bestest of friends, but were still close enough to spend nights drinking with each other to talk about life and the problems that came within.

Between all of Mingyu’s friends, you knew Junhui was one of the people he respected most.

“Mingyu used to say you always think about him before anything.” His voice trembles as he says it, and that’s when you realize you’ve only spoken about Mingyu once with him after the whole thing. As much as you’re hurting, you know they are too, to certain points. “But I think… I think it’s okay not to think of him first now. You don’t need to forget him. But try to think of yourself too, alright?”

You nod, not being able to say anything to that. While you haven’t actually dwelled on what you’re feeling for Minghao, it’s true that you’ve always stopped yourself from even thinking about it because of Mingyu. He’d come into your mind everytime Minghao does, and while it helps a little to know that at least you’ve both lost your soulmates, it’s still hard for you to think that you’d be replacing Mingyu somehow.

You don’t want to replace Mingyu.

You don’t want Minghao to be a rebound.

But is he, really?

“I’m not saying you have to decide now whether you want to give Minghao a try or not. But… you deserve another chance at happiness, okay? And whether it's with Minghao or not, I hope you'll take it when the chance presents itself to you.” He whispers softly.  

It’d be a lie if you say you’ve never tried to think about Minghao in that light. Because you have, you have since that day you went to the cafe and drew with him. But Mingyu clouds your mind, and a part of you always feels like you’re betraying him and his memories if you even think about being with someone else.

“I promise Mingyu wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from a chance of another happiness.” You cry harder at this, palm still covering your mouth to stop your sob from echoing throughout the house. “I know it’s still hard to accept that Mingyu is no longer here. I know, trust me, I do. I lost my little brother too that day, and if it’s hard for me as a friend, I can only imagine how hard it is for you who lost your soulmate. But you can’t trap yourself in his memories forever, right?”

It’s then that you cry, cry, and cry.

It’s one thing to think to yourself that you’ve lost him, that he’s not with you anymore and there’s nothing you can do about it. But it’s another to hear it from someone else’s mouth right in front of your face.

It reminds you of that night a year and a half ago in the hospital, the words ringing in your head over and over again until it’s the only thing that echoes in your mind.

Mingyu is gone.

He’s gone and he’s not coming back to you.

He can’t come back to you.

No matter how much you’ve cried into your pillow and cursed at the gods to bring him back to you, it’s nothing but a futile attempt because he’s not here.

He’s no longer in this world and your heart still aches everytime you think about the fact that he’s dead and you can’t see him anymore.

What’s the use of having a soulmate if he’s going to leave you first out of nowhere?

What’s the use of having a soulmate when you couldn’t even do anything to protect him from the accident that took his life?

What the fuck is the use of having a soulmate if you’re not going to end up together with him for the rest of your life?

It’s then that Jeonghan rushes to the kitchen, immediately kneeling beside you on the floor because you don’t have any energy to even stand on your feet at this point. You don't even realize you're wailing, your palm doing nothing to help stopping your broken cry.

Jeonghan can't hear anything but your sobs since earlier, but he knows your talk with Junhui is long overdue, which is why he’s been holding himself back from barging in even though he’s been worried. But how can he stay still if he's heard you let out a loud cry followed by a thud?

Junhui follows and kneels next to you, patting your head once again as he wipes your tears to no avail.

“Think about it… okay?”

You’re spacing out as you lean on Jeonghan’s shoulder when Junhui knocks on your door. You’ve spent the last hour telling your best friend everything, from the way you’ve been suppressing your thoughts about Minghao to the talk with Junhui earlier. In a true Jeonghan style, he has offered you a piece of his mind followed by saying he agrees with Junhui though he doesn't fail to remind you to take your time thinking about it.

“Do you mind taking care of Minghao or do you want me to stay over?” It’s almost ten in the evening, you look at the clock on your wall, and you suppose Junhui is trying to figure out if he should go home now or not. “He gets a little needy when he’s sick but doesn’t say anything.”

You look at Jeonghan for some reason, and when he offers you nothing but raised eyebrows, you turn to Junhui and say you’d take care of Minghao for him.

“You sure?” He asks one more time. “I can just stay over if you don’t want to.”

Junhui chooses those words for a reason. He didn’t ask if you can do it, he makes sure to let you know that it’s okay if you don’t want to.

But you do. As much as you’re conflicted, you can’t deny the worry bubbling in your chest the moment you heard Minghao’s down with fever to the point where it's hard for him to even get out of bed.

“I’ll take care of him.” You say with a determined nod, your arm squeezing Jeonghan’s for support.

“Then I’ll trust you with him.” You’re probably looking too much into it. You have no idea if Minghao has confided Junhui in what’s transpired between the two of you, but his words seem to mean more to you regardless of his real intention. 

“I’ll take you home then.” Jeonghan surprises you both, patting your cheek before he gently lets go of you. “I don’t think it’s me you need to be with tonight.”

It’s silent once the two went home, and you’re left on your own in the living room. You try to think about your talk with the two men, but your head pounds a little from all the crying. Your eyes are probably puffy too, though at least they’re not red and you probably just need to drink some water to help your headache.

You close your eyes and exhale as you lean your head back against the sofa head. Has it really been one and a half year since you lost Mingyu?

It's funny, grieving. You never really get over it, and as much as you claim you're okay and you've accepted that he's no longer with you, you know you'd never entirely accept that deep down in your heart.

Some days Mingyu doesn't cross your mind at all. Some days you can suddenly cry in between conversations because his name rings across your head for no apparent reason.

Time seems to be too fast and too slow when it comes to memories of Mingyu. You never really thought about finding a new romance before, if only because you live in a world where soulmates exist and Mingyu took your heart with him the moment he left this world.

It must be some sort of twisted fate too for you to find Minghao, another shattered soul whose soulmate left him by choice. As much as it hurt you to lose Mingyu the way you did, you couldn’t imagine how Minghao picked up the pieces of his broken heart because the person who’s supposed to be his forever left him for selfish reasons.

You can’t imagine how his heart can still be as pure as it is with the pain it went through.

While you don’t know yet what exactly went down, what you know for sure is how beautiful of a person Minghao is. He probably knows you’re struggling since the beginning. He’s been considerate in more ways than you could’ve imagined, in his own soft, subtle way to the point where you didn’t realize he’s taking care of you.

It took you quite some time to realize, but it makes sense because you can recognize the pain that flashes through his eyes too from time to time. As two owners of broken fate, it’s not surprising that you recognize one another.

The sound of the door creaking brings you back from your head, and you see Minghao looking a little lost when the door opens, probably wondering why the house is dark and quiet.

“Why are you out of bed?” You scold him softly as you make your way to him. You usher him back to bed, but Minghao insists his body hurts from laying down too much and he needs to stretch a little. 

So you make him sit on the sofa instead, which he whines at because it’s not that different, but his heart softens at your concerned whine so he decides entertaining you shouldn’t be too bad even if he feels like walking around the house.

“Drink some water.” You hand him his usual mug, then plops beside him as your palm automatically reaches for his forehead, cheek, and then neck. Minghao doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, though he shivers at your touch because your palm is cold when it meets his skin. “Your fever has gone down, I think."

“Were you worried?” his voice asks softly. Almost hopeful, even. None of you bothers to turn on the lights, though the light peeking from the kitchen helps just enough for you two to see each other albeit dimly.

You think Minghao might be a little delirious, but Junhui did say Minghao gets needy when he’s sick, so you do the least you can do and decide to throw away all of your thoughts for the night. What matters right now is that he’s sick and you want to take care of him.

“I was. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” It’s funny the way you’re both talking like it’s a secret. Your soft voices barely heard throughout the house even though it’s loud enough just for the two of you.

Minghao shrugs, not offering you any explanation. But you see it in his eyes, in the way he hesitates and shakes his head. He probably didn’t think it was okay to tell you. 

“Tell me next time, okay? Though it would be better if you don’t get sick again.”

He hums and it’s silent after that. Minghao turns to the window, looking at the dark night outside. “Did Junhui go home?”

“Yeah. I told him I’d take care of you.”

“Did you?” His voice gets even softer when he says this, both hopeful and afraid. But before you can say anything, he cuts you off and asks again. “And Jeonghan?”

“Took Junhui home.” You pause before you continue. Is it a good time to bring it up now? Would it be better to do it when you’re both awake and well? Listen to your heart, okay? It’s okay to put your guard down sometimes. Jeonghan’s words from earlier ring in your head. “Said that it’s not him I need to be with tonight.”

If he’s surprised, Minghao doesn’t show it. But his stare seems to pierce through the dark and you can’t find it in you to look away. Mingyu appears once again in your mind, but you try your best to suppress the thought before you find yourself deep into it.

“Is there anyone you need to be with tonight?”

“Mmh. Maybe.” You try to be nonchalant, very conscious of the way your heart is beating loudly against your chest. You look out the window before you start talking again, a pensive look on your face as you contemplate your words. “It’s weirdly dark tonight, huh?”

Minghao follows your sight and nods, waiting for you to say more. You gather your hair and move them to your right shoulder, and from where he’s at, he can see the black stars peeking behind your left ear.

“It’s Cassiopeia, my mark.” You start, your eyes still locked on the night sky. “I tried looking them up once, but I suppose I’m not smart enough to actually understand the story. Mingyu did though, and he’d pop up a quiz from time to time to see if there’s anything I retain from all the time he babbled about our identical marks.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with this, but his hand finds yours and he’s glad you don’t pull away, simply holds his hand tighter as if you’re looking for something to keep you going. His heart cracks at your weak smile, but he knows you have more to say and he’s more than willing to listen.

“I ended up liking them though; the celestial objects. The moon, the stars, planets, everything that’s up there in the sky. I found fascination in them and I’d find myself buying stuff with their patterns.”

Minghao can’t see you clearly because of the dark, but he imagines your eyes are watering up by the slight tremble of your voice.

“And then it stopped when Mingyu died. I don’t hate them, but it hurts to see them and… if you remember my drawing those months ago, I suppose that’s why my drawing was so dark even if I did it unconsciously.”

You pause to take a breath, your hand tightens around Minghao’s. “I think he took all the stars with him the night he left. That selfish jerk.”

His heart clenches painfully at your weak chuckle, at the way your hand reaches up to wipe your own tears, and at the way you take a deep breath in determination.

“But… But it’s okay even if we can’t see the stars, right?”

Minghao gapes at his own words from that day you drew together, words that he said without much thought but seems to hit you in ways that he would never imagine. He tightens his grip on you, and then pulls you to his shoulder before taking his turn to speak.

“You probably don’t recognize it. But forsythia is my soulmate mark.” He says as he caresses your knuckle, his mind taking him back to the exact day you referred to just seconds ago. “I knew it took a lot for you to be there. And even though I didn’t know exactly why, I could tell it was hard. But you pulled through and I thought I should do the same. So when you asked me to draw a flower, I knew I had to draw the most beautiful forsythia I could ever draw in my life.”

“I used to hate them, you know?” You can hear him smile even though you’re buried in his shoulder, his arm that has made its way around you pushes you more into himself. “But you saw that drawing like it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I saw you carrying around that keyring everyday and it’s… something. I’ve heard a lot of people compliment my works, but I’ve never seen someone appreciate it as much as you do. It wasn’t intentional, but I think you helped me get through it without even meaning to.”

You pull away to look him in the eyes, and for someone who claims you don’t find beauty in stars anymore, you almost want to dive into Minghao’s eyes that seem to twinkle with all the stars Mingyu took with him.

“Do you know what forsythia symbolizes?” You know he’s not expecting you to actually know, so you shake your head and urge him to continue. “Anticipation, apparently. Because they bloom in spring and signal the beginning of one. I’d like to interpret it as the flower of a new beginning.”

You almost cry again at what it implies; at what it can imply not only for him but for the two of you. Is it too early to jump into that? Is it too fast? Weren’t you just crying about Mingyu hours ago?

“We don’t have to figure it out now.” His voice rings through the night, his fingers caress your arm to shield you from whatever’s in the dark of night. “The morning will come eventually even when the night is long, right?”

“Yeah.” You succumb into his embrace as you smile through your tears. But how can you not when Minghao says those words like Mingyu did many nights ago?

“Don’t think about it too much.” He kissed your cheek and hugged you close to his chest, to shut you up more than anything, really. “It’s not like the morning won’t come even if the night is a little too long. Focus on what you have in front of you, instead okay?”

“But what if–”

“No.” He cut you off, his palm covering your mouth as he laughed at your glare. “No what if. Let’s enjoy the night while we’re at it.”

“You sound stupid.” You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance despite the way your heart swelled in affection.

“You love me anyway.” He grinned cheekily, which you laughed at out of embarrassment because if there’s one thing you could never do, it’s to deny your love for him even jokingly.

“Hao?” 

“Hm?”

“You’ll hold me through the night, right?”

He smiles like it’s not even a question, his fingers intertwining with yours as if to make a point.

“Yeah.”

“Even if it’s a long one?”

He clasps your hand tighter, his thumb caressing your knuckle.

“Yeah.”

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

A/N 2: hi!! it's been quite some time since i write anything along this genre. i've always wanted to write soulmate!au and while this isn't exactly heartfluttering like soulmate!au usually is, i hope you enjoyed it one way or another. this fic got longer than i originally planned, but i hope you guys enjoyed it and please do send me your thoughts through anything you're comfortable with. i know it sounds repetitive at this point, but it's truly your feedbacks that keep me goin<3

A/N 3: did any of u guessed gyu di*d btw

permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly

also tagging: @joonsytip

[dottieisdotting]

who I write for,what I write, my Do's + Dont's

(M) - mature (A) - angst (F) - fluff

Writing

Kpop idols

All of SEVENTEEN 

S.Coups

winding down (M)

baby fever (M)

feeling good (M)

Jeonghan

Joshua

Jun

Hoshi

Wonwoo

treat me like a slut - (COMING SOON)

Woozi

DK

Mingyu

THE8

Seungkwan

Vernon

Dino

All of ATEEZ

Hongjoong

studio talks (F) (slightly (A)

Seonghwa

Yunho

Yeosang

San

Mingi

bad day stress reliever (M)

Wooyoung

Jongho

All of ENHYPEN (no smut for Riki)

Heeseung

Jay

Jake

I need a gangsta - (COMING SOON)

Sunghoon

Sunoo

Jungwon

NI-KI

bf headcannons (F)

my love, mine all mine (F)

All of stray kids

Bangchan

at home pampering (F) (A)

Leeknow

Changbin

Hyunjin

Han

Felix

Seungmin

I.N

All of NCT127

Johnny

Taeyong

Yuta

Doyoung

Jaehyun

Jungwoo

Mark

Haechan.

Alice in borderland 

Chishiya

let them see (M)

jealousy, jealousy (M)

work colleagues (M)

Arisu

Niragi

Aguni

Kuina

Ann

Usagi

Heiya

Karube

All of us are dead

Lee Su-hyeok

Nam On-jo

Lee Cheong-san

Yoon Gwi-nam

Lee Na-yeon

Jang Ha-ri

Choi Nam-ra

Han Gyeong-su

twisted men

Alex Volkov

Rhys Larsen

Josh Chen

Christian Harper

Do's

Fluff

Angst

Smut

Platonic

Girl x girl (i’ll try,mostly platonic tho)

Gender neutral reader/non binary reader

Platonic age gaps

PLATONIC family pieces (like, brother x sister, sister x sister, platonic stuff yk)

threesomes (possibly foursomes)

many kinks (too many to list)

Don'ts

Rape

Huge age gaps (from four years apart and up)

Spirit x Reader (like a ghost kind of spirit, because that's js weird)

Piss kinks

Underage idols smut (AKA Ni-ki)

Blood kink

A/N; my requests are always open if you have something you'd like me to write and I shall try my best to bring it to life

have a good,day,night and every other time of day. Mae sure you stay healthy,eat drink and a huge mwah for all the support on my other posts xoxo Eva

[kpoptrashlord-007]

The Cover;; Hwi

Word Count;; 1.6k

Genre;; Fluff

Pairing;; Hwi x Reader

Request;; Not Requested...  I'm new here (to the Newkidd fandom) and I’m sorry if I didn't do Hwi justice - I just couldn't not write something for his birthday. He's just too adorable and cute :(

Notes;; Happy Birthday, Hwi!!

My Masterlist

   There was no holding back the smile that lit up your face as you watched him dance. Dancing to the energetic and electrifying beat of his latest favourite girl group song wasn't work to him - it was something he enjoyed. It was a hobby that he indulged in for himself and it showed in the way his joy became your own as he elicited pure emotion from you. Every single move dripped with not only grace but also happiness. Never did his expression falter or drop, and your own smile couldn't hold a candle to the dazzling grin plastered on his face.

   Though his technique wasn't the best in the business, his personality and ability to draw out a raw response was more than most could ever dream of. Hwi allowed his happiness to cascade off his body in waves, illuminating the room and everything in it. No matter how hard he pushed himself to give his personal best, his eyes sparkled brighter than the moonlight hidden behind closed shutters.

   Safe behind the camera, you felt emboldened enough to express the pent up excitement that had built up over the course of the night. It came as a silent set of bunny hops, a playful pout and a squish of your cheeks as you mouthed a silent coo that he caught from the corner of his eye during an elegant turn. A small blush served as the replacement for the eye roll he undoubtedly would have given you had he not been on camera.

   Once he finished the routine, soft pants drifting from soft lips, you ended the recording and turned off the camera. Light sweat lined his brow that was accompanied by a slight frown. All he did was watch in silence as you sat down on the floor. There next to the camera's tripod and attached by a single USB cord was your laptop. Lifting it into your lap, you sighed in relief. So far everything was in order and looking good. You focused on the screen while you uploaded the footage to your video editor, ignoring the impatient shuffling of the young man across from you. Without diverting your attention, you humoured him.

   "What's wrong?"

   "Did you like it?"

   "Of course. You were adorable as always, Hwi."

   An indignant huff prompted a grin from you. You eyed him for a brief moment. Though barely noticeable, his blond waves had started to clump from the buildup of sweat. This final recording was far from the first; all night had been dedicated to perfecting the dance. It should have been finished last night but he refused to offer anything less than perfect. It was his birthday gift to his fans, after all, so he had danced into the morning.

   "Then why were you playing around and poking fun? Were you bored?"

   "I wasn't." You laughed this time when he huffed. "It was fun."

   "I saw you. It almost tripped me up," Hwi mumbled.

   Grabbing the tripod, he tried to move it aside but the cords were still connecting the camera and laptop. You yelped when the laptop jerked off your lap. Scrambling to catch it even though the likelihood of damage was next to nil, you lurched forward and slammed the back of your hand against the concrete before it had a chance to hit the ground. Waiting for your heartbeat to slow, you raised your gaze inch by inch to meet Hwi's.

   "Oops."

   "Aish, you're lucky you're cute. Please leave the cleanup to me. You should get some sleep while I finish this."

   "But-"

   "Nope, none of that. Off you go."

   Kicking imaginary dirt on the floor, he pouted. When he didn't clear out of the small practice room, you once again told him to get some rest with similar results. With a shake of the head and a yawn, you stood. You had to finish the video soon so it would be ready to post for his birthday so even though you were dead tired, you couldn't give in to the slumber that beckoned you. It would take a strong, caffeinated drink to power you through the looming task ahead of you. You could just hope that the drinks offered in the break room vending machine would be enough.

   "Can't I stay?"

   "Why would you want to? This is gonna take awhile. Don't worry - it won't be posted without your approval first. Just sleep."

   You stumbled to the door, yanking it open. Stretching upon exiting, you expected Hwi to follow only for the door to creak shut behind you. With a half-hearted yell, you reminded him not to touch the laptop before trudging down the hall. It took about five minutes for your mind to catch up. Once it had and you were able to form a somewhat coherent thought that didn't correlate to editing, you picked a drink and guzzled it down. It was quiet in the building at this time, something you could appreciate. The last thing you wanted to do was explain your presence.

   Step by step, the fog covering your mind began to lift as the caffeine kicked into gear. Still focused on the best way to slice, edit, and filter the dance routine in the least time possible, you reentered the room to find Hwi sitting in your spot. Light danced across his face in the now dark room as he watched the screen. You tutted and shook your head but he didn't seem to notice. Taking a seat next to him, you spoke in a low tone meant to go unnoticed.

   "Didn't I say not to touch the laptop?"

   "Hmm?"

   "Nothing. Here, hand it to me."

   Without a comment, he passed the laptop over. You disconnected the cords and threw them to the side. If he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, you'd just put off the cleanup and instead watch the clips with him. Waggling your finger in a beckoning gesture, you scooted a little further down the wall and he followed. When his legs were a safe distance from the tripod, you allowed yourself to relax.

   "I'm happy to see that you didn't delete the footage while I was gone."

   "I'm not stupid."

   "Even the smartest people make mistakes. I've erased plenty of important memories before, usually by accident." You shrugged and sighed, looking at him from your peripheral, "It's not a big deal."

   "You don't need to baby me."

   "When have I ever?"

   He snorted. "Anyway, you can delete everything before the last three takes. There will be nothing worth saving there, I think. The second chorus and outro in the first of the three can be used and the intro for the second video might have been more polished than the third but… I'll leave it to your judgement."

   "You got it."

   After three and a half minutes of dutiful work on your part, you felt his stare burning into you. You wondered if he had been watching your actions close enough to pick up on your plan. The building silence was enough to give you your answer, but you hoped he hadn't noticed the full extent of it.

   Lifting your eyes off your project timeline, you noticed his hawk-like vision hadn't missed a thing. In an act of subconscious guilt, you chose to catch his gaze in the mirror opposite you both rather than head-on. He scowled. It was meant to be intimidating but it had an adverse effect and you burst into laughter. The way his lips jutted out in a pout at your reaction was beyond cute and only increased the bubbling joy overflowing from you.

   "Why are you laughing? I can see what you're doing!"

   "Oh, what am I doing?" You goaded, snorting at his incredulous gasp.

   "You're collecting all the mistakes!'

   "What of it?"

   "I asked you to delete them," he whined, pulling at your shirt sleeve and frowning.

   "But you were so cute whenever you messed up."

   "I don't want to show them anything less than perfect!"

   "Making mistakes is human. Having flaws is human. No one is perfect. Your fans will love seeing this, trust me. You're so gee dang cute, they will melt and combust when they see that little nervous laugh you made after you tripped. It's like a gift that keeps giving."

   "Are you sure?"

   "Yes, put your trust in me. I won't lead you astray. Now why don't you just go to sleep and leave this to me? When you wake up, I'll have the finished video ready for you to review."

   "Fine." The mirror shook as he dropped his head against it before an irritated groan echoed through the room. Even without the lights on, you knew discomfort would soon crawl across every inch of his face. The cold, hard surface of the mirror was no proper place to sleep. Soon his head rolled to the side to look at you once more. "Sleep where though?"

   "Well since you didn't want to leave,-" with a tilt of your head so you were face to face with the exhausted blond, you patted your shoulder, "-you can sleep here."

   For the first time since he finished dancing, his face lit up in a dazzling smile. He was quick to lean on you and even quicker to snuggle against you. You knew it wouldn't take long for him to clonk out, not with how tired he was after a full night's work. Pulling a pair of earphones from your pocket, you began to transition yourself and the laptop into a more comfortable and silent setup.

   Hwi yawned. If he was curious about your actions, he didn't comment on it and instead closed his eyes. Well on the way to falling asleep, he mumbled, "I'm lucky to have you."

   "Yeah, you are."

[writeformesinpie]

Fic Author Self Rec! When you get this reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, or some snippets from upcoming WIPS. Let’s spread the self-love! Love ya and thank you for all you do!! 💖

5 Favourite Fics? Ahhh.. only five? lol

Crack Fic - Zombies And Ice Cream - Tao from Exo and Reader verses a zombie apocalypse.

Smut Fic - Pink Swirls - Hyunjin from Stray Kids is a painter and Reader is his muse.

Fluff Fic - A Charming Nuisance - Jun from Seventeen and Reader find themselves alone on Singles Day and shenanigans ensue.

Yandere Fic - The Lift - Seo Moon Jo from Strangers From Hell (Mr. Lee Dong Wook himself). In a lift. With no escape. It's hot lol. It's either this one or my Hwanwoong from Oneus Macabre Game.

Au Fic - You Belong To Me Now - Jungkook from BTS as a demon that ends up taking Reader away to the demon realm after she accidently/not really accidently summons him. Or my Gong Yoo (The Salesman) Squid game fic Playing Dirty which took two days to write which is super rare when it involves smut haha.

Bonus - My Chishiya from Alice In Borderlands Checkmate fic - Not the biggest fan of Chishiya lol but I love the way this fic turned out and I think it might be up there as one of my best!

Also here is a snippet from the Mingyu x Reader x Wonwoo host club fic that I wrote today (so it's not edited yet and might change a little):

“Well hello, gorgeous.” Gorgeous? Holy fuck. Look who’s talking. Soft strands of midnight black hair tease at his face, as he towers over you in a gray pinstripe suit, pastel pink tie loose around his toned chest right under the third unclasped button. He’s all leg; but it's his catlike eyes that hint of untold intimacy and sly smile that captivates. You want to see more. “Ah, hello,” you say to Mr. Tall, dark and handsome, flashing your platinum card. His eyes flicker to the card then back to you. “I. It’s my first time coming here, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.” “A virgin?” he asks, his teeth peeking out as his smile turns into a wide grin. “They are gonna eat you up.” 

[gamerwoo]

Seventeen: The Xperiments (Part Fifteen)

Characters: Seventeen x female reader

Genre/warnings: superhuman/experiment au, angst, mention of suicide/hanging, major character death [please read the warnings in the intro]

Word count: 2,382

a/n: things in bold are in english

Previous | Next | The Xperiments Masterlist

Everyone was told to stay in their rooms. All anyone would tell you was that everything was alright, but hearing Minghao sobbing Joshua’s name, you knew it wasn’t.

“He’s fine,” Matthew insisted. “He’s alive and he’ll be okay. Just stay here.”

It wasn’t a lie. Minghao got to Joshua in time, grabbing the older boy’s hand and moving it so the shot hit the ceiling instead. The sound scared everyone, and the thud of Minghao tackling Joshua to the floor after had people suspecting someone had died. But all of you trusted the black masks to tell you if anything had happened. If someone had died, they wouldn’t lie to you about it.

But they weren’t aware of Mingyu. If it weren’t for Namjoon going to talk to Minghao once the other black masks showed up, nobody would’ve even found Mingyu until morning.

“Mingyu hung himself,” Minghao reported numbly, blankly staring across the room while Junhui laid his head against his shoulder and continued to sniffle and hiccup sobs. “That’s why Josh did it. He heard it…”

Namjoon knew it wasn’t just that. While hearing Mingyu’s death must’ve been the final straw, Joshua was already struggling having to hear everyone’s thoughts at once -- and most of them weren’t good lately, either. At the lab, some of the experiments were kept father away so he wasn’t constantly bombarded. But here in the cabin, the rooms were closer together and everyone was kept inside. Josh was constantly hearing everyone’s thoughts at once unless he stuck close by you. But he couldn’t just keep you with him all the time.

Maybe that was why you felt guilty while you were trying to comfort Hansol. You knew you helped Josh, and instead of insisting that you could just be roommates, you went off to your own room without a second thought. You could’ve blocked out everything he heard to make things easier. You should’ve stayed by him as much as you could. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you stay by his side? He could’ve died.

But at the same time, had you not gone to your own room, Joshua wouldn’t have heard Mingyu’s thoughts and nobody would’ve found the poor boy until breakfast.

The black masks had to go around and tell everyone else what had happened to Mingyu and what the gunshot was. Of course, all of them were confused and scared and upset and had questions, but it was late at night and the black masks had to clean up and make preparations for another funeral like they had Seungcheol. While Mingyu didn’t have anything to do with fire, cremation was still the safest way to go.

Still, nobody slept that night.

The next morning, the black masks went around to wake everyone up. Wooshik asked if you would sleep in Joshua’s room that night to block everything out, and you complied without any issue. In fact, you were almost eager to help. He curled up into you and eventually fell asleep from exhaustion from crying so much, with Wooshik sitting in a chair in the corner of the room to make sure he was safe. But you drifted in and out of sleep that night, scared that something else might happen.

Once everyone had gathered downstairs, the black masks began to pass out breakfast that they’d made. Nobody was hungry even though you all knew you should eat. But all anyone could do was stare at their plate or maybe push their food around a bit with their utensils.

Wooshik finally sat down with everyone to explain in better detail what had happened. Realizing he was a weapon for the white coats and knowing he could hurt someone at any time after finding out he had been the one responsible for Seungcheol’s death, Mingyu hung himself in his bedroom. Since Joshua was still upstairs with Namjoon, he also mentioned how Joshua attempted to take his own life after hearing Mingyu’s death.

“Josh won’t be staying with us for a while,” Wooshik continued. “The thoughts here are taking a toll on him, and Mingyu was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. We don’t want to rely on _____ staying by his side all the time, so we think it’s best to move him in with one of our other agents. We can assure all of you that he’ll be safe, but he won’t be here for a long time.”

“Do we get to say goodbye?” Jeonghan croaked out, turning his head to look down the table at Wooshik. 

“Of course. He won’t leave until after Mingyu’s funeral.”

But there was also another issue: Seungkwan. Like Mingyu, he could be controlled by the white coats at any time. Nobody was sure how to fix him but nobody wanted him to do what Mingyu had done. While he seemed to have gone back to normal after the tazing like Mingyu had before, they knew they couldn't just constantly taze him to get his head back to normal. They had to find a permanent solution.

“We’re going to be moving back in,” Chanyeol stated, also not eating his food. “Our lives are dedicated to helping experiments get out and keeping them safe. So until we’re completely positive you’re safe, we’re here.”

“They’ll be taking the empty rooms instead of the living room, so we’d like it if all of you continued to sleep in pairs or groups,” Wooshik nodded.

Some of you had your own rooms -- like Joshua -- but some decided to room with others. But considering what had happened, they thought having someone else there would be best for everyone. Nobody minded that rule since everyone seemed on-edge all over again. Would these deaths weigh down too much on someone else? Nobody wanted to lose anyone else.

The bottom line was that all of you had to protect each other. And while everyone had tried their best to save the others from their awful deaths, it unfortunately just wasn’t enough. Nobody seemed to expect that even though you were free from the labs that there would still be death and hurt. But you were slapped in the face with that harsh reality, and now that everyone was aware that being out of the labs didn’t make everything fixed completely, you would all be ready.

You refused to lose anyone else.

-

“So what do we do?” Mingi wondered as he helped Jiwoo do the dishes.

All of the black masks -- except Namjoon who was going from bedroom to bedroom to talk to everyone -- were cleaning up the kitchen after the slow, half-eaten breakfast. While all of you were sent upstairs, they had to figure out a plan to help Seungkwan.

Jiwoo looked up from the dishes, turning her head to look at the men cleaning up, “We have to get that remote. That’s the only answer there is.”

“Even though I don’t want to admit it, she’s right,” Chanyeol sighed. “The remote controls Seungkwan. It’s not like we can do brain surgery or whatever on him.”

“How are we gonna do that?” Matthew quizzed. “Our only insider was Wooshik, and he can’t go back.”

“Then we’ll have to do it,” Jungkook shrugged like it was no big deal.

“It won’t be that easy,” Wooshik said, shaking his head. “No doubt they’ve heightened security. Every single one of their experiments is gone now.”

“Can’t one of them go invisible?” Mingi recalled. “Why don’t we send him?”

“No,” half the room immediately replied.

“We’re not sending any of them back in there,” Wooshik stated firmly. “It’s way too risky and we’re not putting any of them in danger like that. We’re here to protect them and keep them safe. I’d put my own life on the line to keep them safe, but there’s no way I can get back in.”

“One of us will have to find a way inside again,” Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair as he dropped the used utensils into the sink to be washed. “That’s gonna take a while, though. We’ll have to be really careful with Seungkwan.”

“I’ll go in,” Jiwoo volunteered. “I even had a wig for the rescue mission, so. Figure I’d be best for it.”

“Alright, we’ll have to get that sorted ASAP,” Matthew nodded slowly, trying to think about everything they had to get done. “God, we have to prepare another funeral, probably get someone else from another team over here to help Namjoon with them, prep Jiwoo to go in--”

“One problem at a time, please,” Chanyeol sighed.

“With all of these bad things happening to them and their mental state getting worse and worse because of it,” Wooshik began, “I think maybe we should take them out for the first time.”

“You wanna go out with them?” Jiwoo asked, stopping the washing to turn and fully face him. “Are you crazy?”

“None of the scientists would take them in a public place, and I doubt they’re searching crowded areas, anyway,” Wooshik explained. “Maybe being out would be safer for them in a way.”

“It might make them feel a little better, anyway,” Jungkook agreed.

“But it’s also dangerous right now,” Chanyeol countered. “What if Seungkwan snaps out in public? What are we supposed to do?”

“They waited how long to use that remote again?” Mingi asked with raised eyebrows. “He’ll probably be fine.”

“The remote might’ve been lost or broken in the commotion,” Matthew pointed out. “I say it’s better to keep them here.”

Wooshik sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Alright, guess Namjoon’s the deciding vote.”

-

Namjoon not only spoke to as many of you as he could, but he helped in moving rooms around. Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Jihoon, and you all had your own rooms. Hansol originally roomed with Seungkwan, but the latter now had to sleep in his own room with a black mask keeping an eye on him. While Jeonghan normally would’ve rather roomed with Jihoon, he decided to stay with Soonyoung and Seokmin, hoping those two would help boost his mood with Joshua leaving. Jihoon decided to stay with the two Chinese experiments, so you and Wonwoo both chose to room with Hansol -- though, it was obvious you would pick him as your roommate.

However, Wonwoo wasn’t anywhere to be found at the moment. 

“He does this a lot,” Hansol mumbled, as the two of you sat across from each other on his bed. “When he feels scared or anxious, he hides. He’ll come out eventually but he needs time.”

“Didn’t the white coats not like that?” you figured. “How did they keep track of him?”

“His uniform had a tracker in it. Before that, they’d just punish him when they could find him. But that was when he was younger. Still, even when they could find him and he’d do it, they’d punish him just for trying.”

Despite what Hansol thought, Wonwoo wasn’t even in the room. He was definitely hiding, but not in the bedroom with the two of you. 

Even though the door was open, you still heard a soft knock that made both of you look toward it. Namjoon stood in the hall with a sad smile that was trying to seem more positive than it was. 

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Hansol replied softly while you simply nodded silently. 

Namjoon mostly wanted to talk about what the two of you were feeling after what happened last night. Obviously you weren’t going to be doing well, but it was important to Namjoon that those feelings were things you talked about and worked through. 

He walked into the room and decided to sit by you at the end of the bed. He held his clipboard in his lap as he looked between you and Hansol, “How are the two of you feeling?”

“Sad,” you mumbled.

Hansol nodded, silently agreeing with you, but he was staring off like he was thinking, “I feel kind of...frustrated.”

“Do you know why you feel frustrated?” Namjoon wondered, picking up his pen.

“Because two of us are dead now, and it was almost three,” Hansol said, sniffling as his eyes started to well with tears again, “and there wasn’t anything anyone could do. And I’m frustrated that nobody could do anything, so I can’t get mad at anyone or get closure or revenge. It’s just… It’s the universe.”

“No,” you spoke up before Namjoon could say anything. Your voice was quiet but the two still stopped to let you speak, looking at you. “It wasn’t the universe. It was the white coats.”

Namjoon let out a quiet sigh, “She’s right. They killed Seungcheol and turned Mingyu into a weapon. They’re the reason Mingyu felt he had to do what he did. They made all of you feel scared, which Joshua knew all about -- and they gave him the ability to hear your thoughts in the first place.”

Namjoon leaned forward and put a hand over Hansol’s, “And Hansol, I promise you that we will shut them down. No one else will have to be subjected to what you guys went through, and none of you will have to suffer again.”

“How?” he asked, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his other hand.

“Just leave that to us.”

You hadn’t ever really given thought to how Wooshik and the others planned to stop the white coats. You assumed they were just going to keep you hidden forever or something. You weren’t sure how, but you weren’t sure of a lot of things. You’d never been outside the lab before except when you were being brought to South Korea. But did that really count if you were still in the custody of the white coats?

“Namjoon?” Wonwoo’s deep voice suddenly asked.

You turned your head just in time to see him appear near the bed -- sitting on the desk like he’d been there all along.

“Oh,” Namjoon seemed a bit startled to have Wonwoo suddenly come out of nowhere, but he chuckled it off, “hi, Wonwoo.”

“Can I ask you something?” Wonwoo asked.

“Of course, anything.”

But his question had nothing to do with your conversation, and it even confused Namjoon.

“How do you feel about us going outside?”

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 3

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 2.3k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: mingyu is only 1/2 idiot. it's gonna make sense soon, i promise. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​ @ca-clover , @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs , @lixisoul99 , @cherrylovescheol , @yuyu1024 , @tacolombe , @black-swan-blog27 , @tulipndtale , @xuimhao , @cookiearmy find other parts here! pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The first rays of sunlight filtered through Y/N's living room curtains, casting a warm glow on Mingyu's sleeping form. He stirred, his face scrunching up as consciousness slowly returned. As he blinked awake, confusion clouded his features. This wasn't his room. This wasn't even his apartment. The unfamiliar ceiling above him swam into focus, and with it came a throbbing headache that made him groan.

Suddenly, the events of the previous night came rushing back in fragmented flashes. The company party. The shattered glass. The burning of soju down his throat. Coming to Y/N's apartment... Mingyu's eyes widened in horror as more details surfaced. Had he really gotten down on his knees and begged Y/N to leave Seungcheol? He groaned again, this time out of sheer mortification, covering his face with his hands.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Y/N's voice came from the direction of the kitchen, tinged with a mix of amusement and something else Mingyu couldn't quite place. Was it concern? Pity? He was afraid to find out.

Slowly, cautiously, Mingyu sat up. The room spun for a moment before settling, and he found himself face to face with Y/N, who stood in the kitchen doorway holding two steaming mugs. She looked tired, with slight shadows under her eyes suggesting she hadn't slept much, but there was a softness in her gaze that gave Mingyu a flicker of hope.

"Y/N, I..." Mingyu started, his voice raspy from sleep and last night's excesses. But Y/N cut him off with a gentle shake of her head.

"Drink this first," she said, stepping forward to hand him one of the mugs. "It's my special hangover cure. Then we'll talk."

Mingyu accepted the mug gratefully, inhaling the strange but not unpleasant aroma. He took a cautious sip, and despite the odd mix of sweet and bitter flavors, he could almost feel it working its magic on his aching head.

As Mingyu sipped his drink, Y/N busied herself in the kitchen. Soon, the apartment was filled with the comforting aroma of coffee and something cooking. The domestic scene struck Mingyu as both familiar and achingly out of reach. How many mornings had he imagined waking up to this very scenario? But not like this. Never like this.

"I hope you're hungry," Y/N called out, her voice carrying a forced cheerfulness that didn't quite mask the underlying tension. "I'm making pancakes."

Mingyu's stomach growled in response, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since before the party. "Sounds great," he managed, his voice a bit steadier now. "Can I... can I help with anything?"

Y/N poked her head out of the kitchen, a small smile playing on her lips. "Just focus on feeling human again. I've got this."

A few minutes later, they sat at Y/N's small dining table, a stack of fluffy pancakes between them. The sight and smell were enticing, but Mingyu found it hard to do more than pick at his food. The gravity of the situation – of what he'd done and said last night – weighed heavily on him.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sounds were the clink of cutlery against plates and the muffled noises of the city waking up outside. Mingyu stole glances at Y/N between bites, trying to gauge her mood. She seemed calm, but there was a tightness around her eyes that betrayed her own unease.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Mingyu set down his fork and took a deep breath. "Y/N, I am so, so sorry about last night. I was completely out of line, showing up here drunk like that. I never meant to put you in that position or make you uncomfortable. It was selfish and stupid, and I—"

Y/N held up a hand, cutting off his rambling apology. She set down her own fork and met his gaze squarely. "Mingyu, before you say anything else, I need to ask you something. Do you... do you remember what happened last night? What you said?"

Mingyu felt heat creep up his neck, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Most of it, yeah," he admitted, dropping his gaze to his half-eaten pancakes. "It's a bit fuzzy around the edges, but... I remember what I said. What I confessed." He forced himself to look back up at Y/N, knowing he owed her that much. "And I meant it. Every word. Even if my delivery left a lot to be desired."

Y/N's expression softened, a mix of emotions flitting across her face too quickly for Mingyu to decipher. She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for something. "Mingyu, there's something I need to tell you. About Seungcheol and me."

Mingyu tensed, bracing himself for the worst. Was this where she told him she was in love with Seungcheol? That his drunken confession had ruined their friendship?

"We're not really dating," Y/N said in a rush, the words tumbling out as if she was afraid she'd lose her nerve if she didn't say them quickly. "It was... it was all fake. A plan to make you jealous."

Mingyu blinked, sure he must have misheard. "What?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair – a nervous habit Mingyu had always found endearing. "I know it sounds crazy, but just... let me explain, okay?"

And so she did. Y/N laid out the whole story – Seungcheol's idea, born out of frustration with the tension between Mingyu and Y/N. The band's involvement, their well-meaning but misguided attempt to push Mingyu and Y/N together. The carefully orchestrated "dates," the inside jokes, the lingering touches – all designed to provoke a reaction from Mingyu.

As Y/N spoke, Mingyu's expression shifted from confusion to understanding to something like wonder. Pieces of the puzzle that had been nagging at him for weeks suddenly fell into place. The knowing looks between the other band members. Seungcheol's sudden interest in Y/N's work. The way Vernon and Wonwoo always seemed to be pushing them together.

When Y/N finally fell silent, Mingyu let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So, let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You're not in love with Seungcheol?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, I'm not. He's a good friend, but that's all."

A smile started to spread across Mingyu's face, hope blooming in his chest. "And everything I said last night... you heard all that knowing it wasn't about breaking you and Seungcheol up, but about us? About how I really feel?"

Y/N nodded, a blush coloring her cheeks. "Yeah, I did."

The realization hit Mingyu like a wave, washing away the last of his hangover-induced fog. He reached across the table, taking Y/N's hand in his. Her skin was soft and warm, fitting perfectly in his larger palm. "Then you know how I feel," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/N, I meant every word. I love you. I have for... god, probably since the moment we met. I was just too scared to admit it, even to myself. But I'm not scared anymore." He squeezed her hand gently. "I want us to be together, for real this time. No games, no pretending. Just us."

Y/N's breath caught at Mingyu's words, and for a moment, he could see everything he felt reflected in her eyes – love, longing, hope. But then something else crept in. Hesitation. She gently extracted her hand from his, and Mingyu felt his heart sink.

"Mingyu, I..." Y/N started, her voice soft but firm. "I can't deny that I have feelings for you too. Strong feelings. But..."

Mingyu's face fell. "But?"

Y/N sighed, pushing her plate aside and leaning forward, her elbows on the table. "But I think we both need some time. To grow, to figure out who we are outside of this... whatever this has been between us." She gestured vaguely between them. "I need to focus on myself for a while."

Mingyu was quiet for a moment, processing Y/N's words. His first instinct was to argue, to plead his case. But as he looked at Y/N – really looked at her – he saw the determination in her eyes, the quiet strength that had first drawn him to her. And he realized that maybe, just maybe, she was right.

Slowly, he nodded. "I understand," he said, surprising himself with how much he meant it. "And you're right. We've both made mistakes, acted out of fear or jealousy or... whatever it was that made us think a fake dating scheme was a good idea." That drew a small laugh from Y/N, easing some of the tension. "Maybe some time to grow individually wouldn't be a bad thing."

Relief washed over Y/N's face. "You're not upset?"

Mingyu smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made Y/N's heart flutter despite her best efforts. "How could I be upset? You're not rejecting me, you're just asking for time. And after everything, I think we both deserve that."

He reached out again, this time just lightly touching Y/N's hand where it rested on the table. "You know, whatever happens, know that I'm yours. Whether as a friend or something more, I'm here. Always."

Y/N couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, bright and genuine. "Barely," she joked, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

It took Mingyu a second to get the reference, but when he did, he joined in her laughter. The sound filled the apartment, chasing away the last of the tension that had hung between them. As their laughter subsided, they found themselves smiling at each other across the table, a new understanding passing between them.

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence, both lost in thought but no longer weighed down by unspoken feelings or misunderstandings. As Mingyu helped Y/N clear the dishes, he felt lighter than he had in months.

"So," he said as he dried the last plate, handing it to Y/N to put away, "what happens now?"

Y/N closed the cabinet and turned to face him, leaning against the counter. "Now... we focus on ourselves. On our careers, on our personal growth. We figure out who we are as individuals, not just as... whatever we were."

Mingyu nodded, mirroring her pose against the opposite counter. "And us? Where do we stand?"

Y/N smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made Mingyu's heart skip a beat. "Friends," she said firmly. "Real friends this time. No games, no hidden agendas. Just two people who care about each other, supporting each other as we grow."

"Friends," Mingyu repeated, testing the word out. It wasn't everything he wanted, but it was a start. A foundation they could build on. "I like the sound of that."

Y/N pushed off from the counter, closing the distance between them. For a moment, Mingyu thought she might hug him, but she stopped just short, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. "Mingyu," she said softly, "I need you to understand something. This isn't a 'no.' It's a 'not yet.' Can you... can you be okay with that?"

Mingyu felt something warm unfurl in his chest – hope, fragile but persistent. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "I can be very patient when it's for something worthwhile," he said, his voice low and sincere. "And you, Y/N? You're worth waiting for."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her smile was radiant. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Mingyu in a tight hug. He returned the embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo, committing this moment to memory.

When they finally pulled apart, both were a little misty-eyed, but there was a newfound lightness between them. The air felt clearer somehow, as if a storm had passed, leaving behind the promise of better days ahead.

Mingyu glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing with a start how much time had passed. "I should probably get going," he said reluctantly. "We have that radio interview this afternoon, and I should probably change and, uh, look less like I spent the night on someone's couch."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to Mingyu's ears. "Probably a good idea. We wouldn't want to start any new rumors, would we?"

As Mingyu gathered his things and made his way to the door, he paused, turning back to Y/N. "Hey, want to get coffee sometime this week? As friends?"

Y/N's smile was answer enough, but she nodded anyway. "I'd like that. Text me?"

"Definitely," Mingyu promised. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N's cheek. "Thank you," he murmured. "For everything."

Y/N's cheeks flushed pink, but her smile never wavered. "Go on, get out of here before I change my mind and keep you hostage."

Mingyu laughed, giving her a mock salute before heading out the door. As he walked down the hallway, he couldn't help but start humming a new melody.

In her apartment, Y/N leaned against the closed door, her fingers lightly touching the spot where Mingyu had kissed her.

[sailorrhansol]

You. Always. | k.sy (m)

❀ Pairing: Soonyoung x f. Reader 

❀ Summary: Soonyoung isn’t a jealous guy - he’s not. But sometimes it gets to him, the way other people look at you and fall a little in love with you. Don’t they know you have him? 

❀ Word Count: 5055

❀ Genre: Established Relationship, pwp

❀ Type: Smut, a little fluff

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Almost jealous Soonyoung, a little hint of insecurity but nothing crazy, recreational drinking, Mingyu and Wonwoo lowkey being a little annoying and drunk, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, pet names like baby and good boy, reader on top, spit and other bodily fluids, not explicit dom/sub dynamics but Soonyoung is very soft in this and reader is guiding him in parts, biting, both reader and Soonyoung are a little dazed and kinda spacy but it’s not explicitly subspace or described in the same way. 

❀ A/N: This is straight up from a dream I had, no joke. Woke up and was like I just had the weirdest dream about Soonyoung but it was in the Bahamas and a cruise ship was involved at some point but this is almost scene for scene from my dream. I feel blessed. 

❀ A/N 2: This was written entirely for @daechwitatamic and also thank you Jo for beta reading because I don’t know how to edit anything ever I’m baby

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

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“Try this one,” Mingyu insists, laughing. He shoves a drink in your hand, all smiles and glittering eyes. You take the cup from him, the music of the club pulsing around you. A soft buzz ripples through you, a little drunk from the long day out in the sun followed by drinks at sunset, dinner and the afterparty. “It’s soooo good.” 

You trust Mingyu’s judgment - about drinks, anyway. Wonwoo cheers for you, clapping to the beat of the music as you bring the cup to your lips and knock it back. The soda mixed in the drink bubbles in the back of your throat but the taste of something strong burns and you cough, pulling the cup from your mouth with a grimace and squinted eyes.

Both of them begin laughing hysterically, throwing back their hands and clapping their hands. You laugh too, setting the cup down as you try and clear your throat from the liquid fire, tongue stuck out as you reach for a sweating glass of water. 

Wonwoo orders more drinks as you suck down water, freeing your mouth of the bitter taste of whatever it is they gave you. You turn on the stool, looking around the beachside club for Soonyoung. You catch him on the far side leaning against a wall, waiting for the bathroom. Sensing your gaze, he cranes his neck to look toward you, eyes pinning you to the spot immediately. 

Even from across the room, his gaze makes your stomach flip. You grin shyly, waving your hand a little. His lips twitch but his gaze shifts toward Mingyu and Wonwoo. His mouth tilts down a little before the bathroom door opens and he turns away entirely, vanishing down the hall. 

A server appears with a round of clear shots, setting them down on the table. Mingyu leans forward, picking one up with the intention of handing it to you, but you wave him off. “I’ll wait for Soonyoung.” 

Mingyu cranes his head. “Yeah, where the fuck did he go? I kind of forgot he was here.”

It isn’t Mingyu’s fault - he hasn’t known you for very long. Soonyoung has a habit of making friends anywhere the two of you go on vacation, though, and through the last week, you’ve managed to make Wonwoo and Mingyu regular friends while enjoying the summer off the coast of Greece. It had started with a volleyball game and now it has escalated to lunches, dinners and nightly escapades. 

Ever the talker - much like your boyfriend - Mingyu turns to the table next to yours and strikes up a conversation with the group of people there. Within a few minutes, he’s pulling their table to yours and shouting their names at you. You shake unfamiliar hands and grin, just happy to feel the balmy air on your skin and feel the heat of summer. 

Another round of drinks appears in clear, plastic cups, obeying the no glass on the beach rule. The beach club is lowkey and tucked away into the side of the mountain at the very end of the beach, requiring a trek through the sand to get there.

The area is open to the elements with wooden pavilions housing a few tables and benches. In the middle of the club is a long, illuminated shallow pool with tables for guests who are willing to take off their shoes and wade through the cool water to get there. 

You look down at the red drink in your hand, raising a brow as you watch everyone else throw the drink back, chugging as quickly as they can. When they put their cups down and realize you haven’t had yours, they immediately start yelling at you, Mingyu grabbing your forearm to shake you back and forth as he pouts and yells at you to chug.

“I’m gonna get too drunk,” you whine, holding onto the cup and trying not to spill the liquid as Mingyu complains. He pouts and gives you puppy eyes, clasping his hands together as he begs. Wonwoo and your new friends immediately join him, all of them peering up at you. 

“Please,” Wonwoo pleads from across the table, clasped hands tucked under his chin. “Please please please please.”

Before you can tip the cup back, it’s being pulled upward and out of your grip. You look up in surprise, mouth falling open as Soonyoung frees it from your grasp and tilts the cup to his lips. You watch as he drains it, head tilted back to expose the tan softness of his throat. Some of the red spills over the side, running down his chin and throat. 

You watch the beads of liquid, suddenly unable to focus on anything else but the way he looks in that moment. When you blink, Soonyoung’s head is no longer tilted as he leans forward to place the empty cup on the table. He doesn’t bother to wipe the red on his neck and you instinctively grab napkins as he throws himself in the booth across from you. 

He notices you holding them out and he takes them wordlessly, his energy shifted suddenly as he wipes the sticky red from his skin. If your new friends notice, they don’t say anything, cheering for him and then ordering more drinks as they shout over the music. 

When he left to use the restroom, your boyfriend had been in high spirits and a rowdy mood. Now, he’s subdued, eyes flickering between Wonwoo and Mingyu, a little darker than before. You frown, finishing the rest of your water as you drink in Soonyoung’s posture: slouched, mouth pouted, eyes narrowed.

Mingyu asks if you want another drink and you watch as Soonyoung’s mouth turns down. Ah. You decline and immediately Mingyu makes Soonyoung the same offer, but he shakes his head, suddenly interested in his phone. You think Mingyu notices this time that one of your party is clearly no longer in the drinking mood and disengages, turning easily to the others.

You nudge Soonyoung’s foot under the table. He looks up at you, a little dejected and shrugs his shoulders as if to say what? You nod your head toward the exit, raising your brows. He follows your meaning  and pauses for a moment, as though he’s torn between ending the night far earlier than usual or trying to endure his mood. 

Eventually, he nods, turning off his phone and shoving it in his pocket. You stand and announce that you’re feeling a little tired, but thank your friends for the drinks. They all immediately complain, begging you to stay for at least one more round.

“It’s always one more round with you all,” you shoot back. “We can catch up another day. I’m tired and honestly I really just want to lay in bed with my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu huffs, waving you off. “Do whatever it is couples do on vacation.”

Without a word, you hold your hand out to Soonyoung to leave. He stares at it for a moment before his mouth twitches upward and he takes it, lacing his fingers with yours. You give him a gentle squeeze as you lead toward the exit of the club, waving to the manager who is used to your group’s presence by now. 

Outside, the world is only lit by the moon. It sits high up in the sky, turning the world a dark blue as you and Soonyoung walk the beach. The quiet tension follows him outside of the club and down a few meters. You wait for him to say something, peeking at him from the corner of your eye.

In the years you’ve been dating, you’ve learned to read him pretty well. You know something about your interaction with Mingyu and Wonwoo bothers him, but you’re unsure of the specifics. Soonyoung isn’t a jealous boyfriend, but every once in a while there is something that bothers him. An old wound that peels open at the edge and stings him. 

You tug on his hand. He’s surprised, stumbling a little as you yank him off balance and into you. His cologne is laced with his own natural scent, making your head spin as your chests press together and you bring a hand up to his face, stroking a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. 

Soonyoung is beautiful. You’ve always thought so. Eyes that can go from intense to gentle, a round face that is somehow also sharp, a cute mouth prone to laughing. You’ve traced the lines of his face over and over again and still, every time you’re this close to him, you feel your heart skip a beat. 

“You’re not jealous, right?” 

He shakes his head imperceptibly. He looks down at you, bottom lip jutting out a bit. You fight a smile, trying to focus on making sure he’s okay instead of the way his face has melted from contemplative to pouting. 

“You can tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable, you know that right?” 

He nods in tiny. His hands hang at his sides, like he’s hesitant to touch you. To do anything. You take his face in both of your hands, cocking your head to the side as you study him. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s bothering you?”

“I’m not jealous,” he starts and stops. You wait for him to continue. You’ve always been better at putting your thoughts to words than he has, and you know he just needs the time to organize them. “And you never do things that make me jealous. I just…” 

Ocean water surges behind you, the gentle push and pull of the swells the only sound as Soonyoung strings his thoughts together. You continue to cradle his face in your hands, thumb stroking back and forth on his cheek. You feel him lean into your touch, going a little weak under your attention. 

“I just know how easy it is to love you,” he finally says. He chews his bottom lip a little and you catch it with your thumb, keeping him from breaking the skin. “You are beautiful and charming, and I can always tell when other people realize it too. It isn’t that… I think you’d like them back or anything. I just feel possessive and then silly for feeling that way.” 

“It isn’t silly.”

“It isn’t?” 

You shake your head and his voice gets small and soft. “I don’t want it to seem insecure or annoying, and I don’t know why I suddenly felt that way. I usually don't.”

“It’s not silly,” you assure him again. “It’s okay to feel that way sometimes. You’re a human being and you’re allowed to feel things, even if you don’t necessarily know why or how you feel them.” 

“I’m sorry I made us leave early.”

“You didn’t make us do anything, and there is nothing to apologize for. I like going home and just spending time with you. I came here with you. We can make vacation friends all we want, but I have the most fun when you’re involved.”

His mouth twitches in a smile and he nods a little, affirmed by your words. “Can we go home?” 

“Mhmm.”

You lean up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his mouth. Immediately he wants more, chasing your lips but you skip away from him, tugging him along by his hand. He frowns, a little put out. You try not to giggle, feeling your stomach flip a little. 

Soonyoung is so rare like this. He loves being soft, but this is something even gentler. Something delicate and wonderful and endearing. You can’t help but keep him trailing after you, feeling the way his eyes linger on you. Hungry. Wanting. Needing. 

You keep him waiting. 

Catching a taxi up the mountain to the house you’re staying at is easy. The driver rolls the window down, letting the salty air drift in as he goes up and up. You lean against Soonyoung’s shoulder, putting your entwined hands in your lap. He melts into you, head atop yours and eyes fluttering shut as the breeze lifts his hair. 

You love him like this. He looks so young, so capable of love. It’s your favorite thing about him, his ability to love freely, deeply and often. There is so much affection and kindness in him, a well so deep that you have yet to hit the bottom. 

Soonyoung is a little drowsy when the taxi pulls up to the village square. He rouses with a mumbled thank you and clambours out the car behind you, eager to follow your lead up the winding steps that lead through the village houses.

It’s mostly quiet, with the echoes of voices drifting up from open windows and patios, the din of voices from restaurants in the main square hanging on the wind. You manage not to get lost this time as you navigate the winding pathways to the correct house, the blue fence blending in with the dozen other blue fences. 

The cicadas are quiet as you walk down the steps to the front of the home. You tap Soonyoung’s pockets and he blushes, forgetting he has the keys. He’s quick to produce them and pass them over, watching you expectantly as you unlock it and step into the darkness. 

Cool air drifts in from the open windows. There’s no air conditioning in the rented house, but the ocean wind that comes in at night through open shutters is enough to cool you off. 

Soonyoung is quiet. He follows your lead up the stairs to the second floor where the bedroom is, lingering in the doorway when you drop his hand and turn to face him as you walk backward into the room. He’s hypnotized as you unbutton the top of your shirt slowly, staring at him. 

The way he looks at you ignites a fire inside of you. No one else could look at you like this, equal parts reverence and hunger. No one else could make your hands shake as you stare at him staring at you, his lips parted a little, tongue darting out to wet them as he swallows. 

Your blouse falls open and you shuck it off, letting it hit the floor. Moonlight paints your side profile. Soonyoung doesn’t dare move from the door until you hold out a hand, palm upward. “Come here,” you whisper. He obeys immediately, nearly tripping over his feet to get to you. 

His hands go around your waist, warm against your skin. You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him in close, fingers threading in his hair and pulling a little. He lets out a soft sound as you tilt his face toward yours, forcing him to meet your eyes. His pupils are blown and you can feel his heart thundering against yours. 

“You know I love you more than anything else, right?” For a second, he just stares at you, eyes fixated on your mouth. You pull his hair a little more and he sucks in a sharp breath before nodding a little. He seems too dazed to do more than the barest acknowledgement. “Do you want me to show you?” 

You lean up to brush your nose against his. Soonyoung’s eyes fall shut and you feel a shiver go through him. His breath is unsteady when you brush your mouth against his in an almost kiss. “Do you want me to show you how much I love you, Soonyoung?” 

He nods again, unable to find words. Your nails scratch at his scalp gently and he lets out a breathy moan, melting in your hands. “Okay,” you whisper, pressty a soft kiss to his mouth. He tries to chase your lips again but you step back and tug at him. “Come lay down.” 

Soonyoung obeys. He’s always been a good boy, but having him like this isn’t common. You like to think that you’re both equal parts in charge in the bedroom, flowing with whatever the other needs. Having him like this, sitting down on the bed and looking up at you like you cradle his world in your hands though… it lights you up. 

“Lay back for me,” you instruct gently. He does immediately, bouncing a little on the mattress. You climb onto the mattress, knees on either side of his waist as you crawl up toward him, settling your weight on his hips. Immediately his hands reach toward your hips and stop, hovering as he gets stuck between doing what he wants and waiting for you to tell him. “Go ahead,” you whisper, leaning toward him. “Take whatever you want. You can have whatever.” 

Warm hands grip your waist. Your fingers expertly undo the buttons of his shirt and you make sure to brush them against his stomach as you move upward. You feel the muscles jump and he lets out another breathy sound. His hands just remain on your sides, not ready to explore more as he fixates on the way you pull his shirt off of his shoulders.

He’s a little clumsy when he leans up to help you shuck it off. You don’t care, surging forward to capture his mouth in a full kiss as he does. He forgets all about taking the shirt off, sleeves halfway down his arms as he leans forward to lick into your mouth, hungry and desperate for whatever you’ll give him.

You don’t hold back, letting him consume you. His mouth is warm and wet, tasting faintly of cherry from one of the drinks he had earlier. You love it, humming delightly as your hands brush from his shoulders to where his shirt is stuck near the elbows. You tug but the material is restricted, making you break away from the kiss with a laugh. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, letting your hips go to take the shirt all the way off. 

Immediately your hands seek the heat of his skin, brushing from his shoulders to his chest and down his stomach and back up, fingers loving every groove and plane. He shivers under your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, pushing him back gently so that he’s laying down again. He lets you trace him, though you can feel his hips twitch under you, turned on by your exploration. “So pretty, Soonyoung. Do you know that?” 

Again, he gives the tiniest nod. You smile and lean forward, holding yourself up by planting a hand on either side of his head. You catch his mouth again and he lifts his head up, eager to taste you. A hum of appreciation escapes you as you kiss him slowly, pressing your hips down into his. 

Soonyoung moans and it’s so delicate that it makes you dizzy. You feel fucked out from this version of him already, the room spinning as you rut gently into him. You grab his hands that rest on your ass and pull them up your sides to your bra, a command. 

He understands immediately, pulling at the clasps to undo the back. You break the kiss again, mouth feeling bruised, to lean up and toss the garment. His hands find your chest immediately and you feel goosebumps burst on your skin at his touch, large hand squeezing. 

You let him rub his thumb over your pert nipples, spiking the pleasure in your stomach. You let out a light sound and shiver in his hands, ducking back down to press your mouth to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin - anywhere you can kiss. 

His skin is salty and sweet, your tongue darting out to soothe his flesh after a sharp bite. He’s putty beneath you, completely at your mercy as your mouth maps out the way you love him. Every kiss, bite and lick is another declaration: I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Light moans drip from his lips as you pepper him with kisses. Dragging your teeth across his chest lightly, you watch as he shivers and squeezes his eyes shut. Grinning, you move your mouth over his nipple, tongue flicking out lightly. A sharp hiss escapes through his gritted teeth, his head digging backward into the bed as he arches under you. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. 

A hum escapes you as you close your mouth over his nipple, sucking gently. He’s so sensitive, whining and squeezing your sides. You trail your mouth across his chest, leaving a wet trail as you do before dragging your teeth across his other nipple. 

“Pretty,” you mumble again, moving your mouth lower. You teeth at his skin as you go, feeling him twitch beneath you. His hands drop to the sheet, twisting them in a vice grip as he lets you scoot down his lap until you’re off the bed and on the carpet, undoing his pants as you go. 

Getting him out of his pants is hard - Soonyoung is loose-limbed and clumsy, hands shaking as he helps you pull the fabric down followed by his briefs. You let out an appreciative moan when you take his cock in your hand, heavy, warm and leaking at the tip. 

He can barely keep it together when you stroke him, hand firm, thumb brushing over the sticky tip. You watch every reaction, eyes focused on the flush in his cheeks, the way he chews on his bottom lip to try and keep from whimpering, the way his fingers twist in the blankets. 

“So perfect,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his inner thighs as you continue to work him with your hand. His hips twitch upward and you let him, continuing to run your tongue along his thigh. “You’re the perfect boyfriend.” 

“Hnnn,” is the mumbled answer. 

Leaning up high on your knees, you tilt his cock toward your mouth, licking leisurely around the tip. He keens and you smirk, feeling your cunt clench as you take him in your mouth properly, spurred on by the way he falls apart instantly. 

This is another thing you love. It doesn’t matter the dynamic, Soonyoung always crumbles at your touch - craves it, needs it, wants it more than anything. It’s hard not to feel like a god as you hear him pant your name, watch the way the breath catches in his throat as you take him deep into your throat, the flat of your tongue scraping the underside of his cock as you go. 

You’re not clean with it. You let spit drip out the corner of your mouth, let yourself gag a little. Work what you can’t fit past your lips with the rest of your hand, getting carried away. His hand shoots to your head - he doesn’t push or pull, just leaves it there, like it can ground him.

Pulling off with a loud pop, you give his shaft a squeeze, kissing the inside of his thigh again. A mix of cum and spit shine in the moonlight when you pull your mouth away. 

“I love seeing you like this,” you rasp. “Love watching you fall apart.”

“Please,” he gasps, managing to lift his head up and look down at you. His hair is damp with sweat and his eyes are fucked out, gaze unfocused. “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.”

“I’ve got you.” You give a single, long lick up his shaft for good measure, feeling him tremble before you stand up to take your pants off. He makes a pitiful sound, hand shooting toward you, hating being away from you. “One second, baby. Sorry.” 

“S’okay.” 

Naked, you crawl up the bed again. His hands shoot to your thighs, kneading the flesh and rubbing his palms up and down, warming you up. You feel the wetness drip down your thighs, worked up from working him up. From the way he moans when you press your pussy to his cock, you know he can feel it. 

“All good?” you ask gently, pressing your forehead against his. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on his brow. You hold yourself over him with one hand and bring the other up to brush the hair off his forehead. “Too much?”

He shakes his head. “No, just. Sensitive.”

“Mhmm. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”He nods in tiny, opening his eyes to look up at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and all of his stars. “Good boy,” you breathe and he moans, hips canting upward to rub his cock against your folds. “I love you.”

He nods again, eager and desperate. “Love you.”

Sitting up on your knees, you reach a hand under you, gripping him firmly. Soonyoung opens his eyes, making sure to watch your every move with swollen, parted lips and half-lidded eyes. You feel drunk from the way he looks at you, as hypnotized by him as he is of you.

You press the tip of his cock against your entrance, both of you groaning. Carefully, you sink down on him, your breath getting stuck in your throat. The stretch punches the breath from your lungs but it’s good, the ache replaced with something stronger, better. He fills up every part of you - you feel him deep in your stomach as you fully seat yourself on him, ass pressed to his pelvis as you fight for air. 

“Fuck, Soonyoung,” you mutter, falling forward to plant a hand on his chest. You lean your weight forward, pushing him into the mattress and holding yourself up. You can feel his thundering heart under your palm, beat matching your own pounding pulse. “Feel so good.”

“Wanna be. Wanna be for you.”

“You are. You always are. I could never want anything else, you know that right?” A tiny, barely there nod. “You make me feel so good. Always do.” 

“Please.”

You know what he’s asking. You give it to him, slowly lifting yourself until you’ve almost pulled off him entirely. You drop back down hard, knocking the breath from your lungs as you spear yourself on him. It is intoxicatingly good, pleasure rippling outward like a stone dropped in a lake. You chase the feel, repeating the motion until you’re nearly mindless and out of breath. 

“Shit,” you swear, laughing a little as your head drops down. You can’t focus on anything but rolling your hips, fucking yourself onto him as his hands grab your ass, not controlling you but gripping fiercely. “God damn fuck.”

Soonyoung laughs, deep and gravely as the cockiness you’re used to bleeds back in for a moment. “Yeah?”

You clench your cunt as you sink down on him, making him let out a high-pitched noise at the move and you grin. “Yeah,” you shoot back. “Thought so.” 

A knot twists in your stomach as you set a smooth pace, thighs burning. Pleasure ribbons through you, twisting and turning, his hands dimpling your flesh. He lets you keep your pace at first, taking everything you give him, his feet planted flat on the mattress as he tries to contain himself, curses escaping between clenched teeth.

Your legs tremble. Your nails dig into the hard muscle of his chest. He senses your movements get a little strained, the pleasure making it harder to focus on lifting yourself. You feel his grip on your ass change, Soonyoung putting power behind it to help lift you up and pull you back down. He thrusts up to meet you, the wet squelch of his harder thrusts intoxicating. 

“Fuck yeah,” you gasp, giving up the pretense of riding him and letting him take over. “Fuck me just like that.” 

It’s all he needs before his grip turns iron and he’s fucking up into you with abandon. Your hand slips on his chest as the power of his thrusts knock you off balance. You let yourself crash together, chest against chest. Soonyoung wraps his arms around your back, holding you to him. 

Your mouth finds his neck, burying your face in there as you try to steady your breathing. It feels like your heart might explode, his name falling from your lips as you press them against his neck. He mumbles something unintelligible, pace picking up. 

“Shit,” you pant. “Shit shit shit shit - Soonyoung - shit.” 

He huffs, something like laughter before his pace is brutal. He fucks you fast and deep, your mind blanking as you crest upward. All you can do is hold on to him, mouth panting against his throat, your muscles squeeze squeeze squeezing until you’re coming hard. 

Everything goes blank. Your ears ring and you’re vaguely aware of his wild thrusts as he chases his orgasm. You melt in his grip, letting him use you, completely boneless. 

Soonyoung growls your name as he comes, pace slowing as he fucks you deep until he stills. You feel the stickiness between you and the way he’s still shaking. You rise and fall with his heavy breathing, both of your heartbeats erratic and thoughts staticky. 

You lay there like that for a while, a pile of exhausted limbs and few thoughts. His arms loosen their grip around you and he starts rubbing his hands up and down your back. It draws you back into the moment more and you open your eyes to look up at him. 

Soonyoung’s eyes are closed and his breathing is deep. You can tell he isn’t asleep, but rather enjoying the moment, his face tilted toward the window where the moon floats over the mountains. He looks so pretty like this, face soft and serene. 

“You’re staring at me,” he murmurs, his voice low and spent. “You could at least tell me I’m pretty.”

“I just did. Several times.”

His mouth tilts upward but he doesn’t open his eyes. “I like hearing it.”

“Fine. You’re the prettiest boy.” 

“Hmm. Yeah?”

“Yes. And I love you.”

“Say it again.” Soonyoung opens his eyes and they meet yours. They’re clearer now, and crinkled at the sides when he gives you a smile that feels far too innocent for the fluids running down your thighs and the way your cunt still clenches around him. “I like when you say it.”

“I love you.” 

He smirks. “Just me?”

You lean up and nip his neck. He giggles, leaning away from you. “You. Always.” 

He sighs. “Me,” he agrees. “Always.” 

-

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[viastro]

winning team | hong jisoo

ミ★ synopsis: in which you and joshua singlehandedly carry your team on your back for capture the flag. oh yeah, the boys also don’t know that you two are dating. [requested by @jos-hua​ except she just asked for fluff and them spending time together but i decided to make it a nerf war]

ミ★ genre: fluff, humor

ミ★ warnings: mentions of nerf guns and shooting with foam bullets, brief and i mean brief mention of sex

ミ★ word count: 1,473

ミ★ pairings: joshua x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! this was requested by my luvie @jos-hua​ ! lia, i hope you still like this even tho i made it into a giant ass... nerf war... hehe. make sure to check out her work too, she’s really good at writing <333 and i love her <333 thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Joshua watches as you check your surroundings for the enemy, you give him a thumbs up once the coast is clear and you both dash for the bushes. Once you guys make it, you pull out your phone to check for Jeonghan’s location. 

“Where is he?” Joshua whispers, looking around with wide eyes to make sure no one’s around. You curse to yourself once you realize he turned it off, having already assumed you’d check for it later. However, your eyebrows perk up in interest once you take notice of Chan’s location, “The flag is at the end of the street by the bushes, Chan was put in charge of it.”

You and Joshua are in an intense game of capture the flag with the rest of the group. Instead of physically tagging once you’re in enemy territory, the fourteen of you brought nerf guns to shoot each other. Almost half of your team is in jail right now, but you also have half of Jeonghan’s team in your prison. 

which is your garage but shhh

You, Joshua, Seokmin and Minghao are the last ones in your team that haven’t gotten caught yet. Mingyu, Seungcheol and Jihoon got pelted by nerf bullets in their attempt to capture the flag. From what you know, Minghao is currently hiding out behind a garbage bin with the guys in his sight. He’s just waiting for the right time to go for a jailbreak since Jun won’t stop guarding it. While Seokmin is standing by your prisoners just in case someone from Jeonghan’s team decides to run in.

Then there’s you and Joshua, already in Jeonghan’s territory hiding behind a bush. You both ran in pretty easily without getting any attention from Seungkwan and Jun, but your real problem lies with Jeonghan and Chan. Those two are an unstoppable duo when it comes to games, but you and Joshua are impenetrable. 

it’s a battle of the game gods.

“You ready to run in babe?” You ask, an excited smile taking over your features as you turn back to look at your boyfriend. His blonde hair is slightly wet from sweat, and his white shirt clings to his body. It is quite a sight but you won’t let that distract you. that’s a goddamn lie. 

Joshua gives you a smirk, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

You both run out of the bushes, heading towards the end of the street when nerf bullets begin to get shot at you. You and Joshua tuck yourselves behind a car, preparing your ammo when you hear Mingyu and Seungcheol begin shouting Minghao’s name. You peek over the hood of the car, finding Minghao shooting back at Jun and actually hitting him in the head. 

“JAILBREAK!” Minghao yells, slamming his hand on the mailbox that was designated as their prison. Jihoon, Minghao and Mingyu scream in victory before running in your guys’ direction to help capture the flag. While Seungcheol gives you guys a thumbs up before running back to base to help Seokmin guard.

“Let’s FUCKING GO!” You shout as they get closer, and you all run towards the end of the street. Jeonghan looks up with an excited smile at the action, before he starts aiming at Mingyu. 

The guys handle Jeonghan while you and Joshua run to find the hidden flag. As you get closer to the bushes, a nerf bullet zooms past your head and you look up from the ground to see Chan shooting at you both. 

“Cover me!” You yell and Joshua immediately starts fighting back, preparing his ammo as he ducks to find cover behind the bushes. Eyes frantically searching for the neon yellow flag, you finally see it sticking out in a lavender flower bed. 

“Yn, go!” Joshua yells and Chan casts his eyes in your direction, sporting an open-mouthed smirk as he prepares to aim at you.

You sprint in the direction of the flag, hearing Chan shout out in pain once Joshua starts shooting at him. Letting out a smile once the flag is within reach, you grab it, lifting it up out of the flower bed in victory. 

“WE WON!” You scream while jumping up and down. Chan lets out a loud laugh once you start doing your winning dance, otherwise known as:

the floss. except you do it aggressively. 

“FUCK YEAH!” Mingyu yells as the rest of your team runs down the street towards you guys, a tired Jeonghan and Jun following close behind.

Joshua runs up and lifts you up in a hug, and you laugh at his happy reaction. You throw your hands in the air, letting out a squeal when he sets you back down. You stare into each other's eyes for a moment before you press a quick kiss to his lips. His eyes widen at the fact that you initiated the kiss first, a blush rising to his cheeks a few seconds afterwards.

“Y-you. You kissed me first.” 

“That I did.”

“That was the first time you’ve ever initiated the kiss.” Joshua gapes and you giggle at him, patting his sweaty head.

“That is indeed, true-”

“YOU GUYS ARE DATING?!” You and Joshua practically jump out of each other's hold, finding all twelve of the guys now staring at you two with wide eyes.

“Oh…”

“Shit.” Joshua finishes.

“You know, I really did not expect for today to end with the guys scolding us for not telling them that we’ve been dating for five months.” Joshua nods his head, drying his damp hair with a towel as you lay on his bed, scrolling aimlessly through your instagram. 

“I’m more surprised at the fact that you initiated the kiss.” You groan, covering your eyes as your boyfriend laughs at your shy reaction. 

“Why do you keep bringing that up!” You whine, peeking through your hands to see Joshua smiling at you. “Cause it’s a monumental moment in our relationship. Makes me feel all warm inside.” You roll your eyes at him, going back to looking at your social media.

“But yeah, it was our fault honestly, we should’ve told them when I first asked you out.” Joshua says, bringing up the previous topic as he places his towel on a hanger. 

“I mean true, but I didn’t want them to feel awkward you know? I’m glad they were so accepting of it, even if we did get scolded for an hour straight while also being taught the importance of using protection.” You mutter, placing your phone onto Joshua’s nightstand. He slips off his slippers before giving you a big smile.

He practically leaps onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you and pressing soft kisses to your neck. You giggle at the feeling, poking his stomach so that he’ll back up a bit. He leaves one last kiss before leaning back to stare at you with a happy expression on his face.

“Someone’s happy tonight.” You state and he nods his head. “How can I not be? We fucking destroyed Jeonghan’s team today, and then you kissed me. That was the most epic part of my week honestly.” 

“We had an hour long lecture on why we shouldn’t have kept our relationship a secret, then got a thirty minute talk on using protection during sex.” You deadpan, and Joshua frowns at you, muttering how you’re a party pooper.

“It was still the best part of my week, protection talk or not.” Joshua tells you, and you glance at him with a teasing smile.

“Even better than our at home kbbq extravaganza?”

“Even better.” 

“How can me kissing you be better than our at home kbbq?” You ask with a frown and he rolls his eyes at you.

“Because kissing you is better than eating any grilled piece of meat, yn.”

You gasp, and Joshua gasps along with you. You both stare at each other, holding your pose for a moment longer before giggling into each other's faces. Joshua lets out a sigh, staring at you contentedly. You raise an eyebrow at his expression, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at his intense gaze, “What?”

“I love you.” Joshua whispers, reaching out and tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. A big smile breaks out and you cover your face with your hands, letting out a little squeal. Joshua laughs at your reaction, pulling you into his chest as he strokes your back.

“I love you too.” You mumble and he closes his eyes, a small smile still gracing his features.

He rubs circles onto your back until you fall asleep with a sleepy grin on your face. Joshua pulls away slightly when he notices your breathing evening out, and he chuckles at your dopey smile. 

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Joshua mutters, moving some more stray hairs away from your face. He presses a soft kiss onto your forehead, before leaning back and turning off the light. 

“Sweet dreams yn.”

[kwonkioz]

. . . brave and nerd | jeon wonwoo x reader (jo shin-yeol) x kim mingyu

part one

𐙚 I thanked my mom for putting the mixed toast in front of me, she smiled at me and then proceeded to put the dishes in the machine.

After taking a bite, I looked at her, "Mom, do you know anything about that Park twins' family?"

His brows furrowed, "I wouldn't say they're very nice people. I know their mother from the association, she is a woman with her nose in the air. Why did you ask?"

"The twins finished second and third. I found it strange when a friend of mine worked hard but came in fourth. It's not normal for them to get such high marks when even I was surprised that I got the first place."

"Mrs. Park must have paid a bribe, she doesn't want her children to be."

"Our school is not a place to accept bribes, Mom, that's why I couldn't be sure."

He turned to me, "Shin-yeol, there's nothing money can't buy. How do you think the twins ended up in your class?"

My eyebrows flew up in surprise, "Really?! O... I guessed it. People blame me, but almost everyone is torpedoed except us!"

"Is anyone still treating you the same?"

I shook my head, "They don't say it publicly anymore."

Except for one person...

He's doing it on purpose to break my heart.

After my toast was finished, I grabbed my bag and left the house. I arrived at the school in a short time by bicycle. Some people said I was a sucker for cycling to school even though we had a driver, and some of them would never shut up. But I was living my way. Yes, there are times when I use my mother's respect, but I do it without putting it in anyone's eye.

Here, everyone sees it as it suits them. I'm used to it.

After entering the classroom and taking my seat, I sighed deeply and watched the surroundings. Everyone had a group of friends or a friend. And the queue next to everyone else was full. The part of me was empty, funny...

A girl named Cho Miyeon used to sit next to me, but when she became close friends with another girl, she started to sit next to her, and this row was empty like this. Strangely enough, I didn't really have any friends. I don't have the number of anyone in this class in my phone book, except for Wonwoo. I had already bought it secretly.

Speaking of Wonwoo; He was back in the front row, quietly taking a test. It was the biggest void in my life. I don't know how my only goal was to win her love when she was so far away from me.

But every second I couldn't talk to him, something was building up inside me. If we get close one day, I want to chat for hours.

As the classroom slowly filled in, the twins arrived. I've looked at them with all my hatred, they're really annoying. They were among those who once treated me like a torpedo, and now they are doing the same thing themselves.

A little later, the teacher arrived and the lesson began. Mr. Kim had taken me to the blackboard to read aloud the quiz notes from a few days earlier. Since this quiz would only replace the oral grade, it would not be written on the list, the teacher would explain it himself or have one of the students read it.

I began to read the notes in order; "Kwon Soonyoung 90, Jeon Jungkook 95, Kim Namjoon 100, Hwang Ye-ji 70, Yoon Jeonghan 85, Xu Minghao 100, Jeon Wonwoo 100, Park Dae Gang 45, Park Dae Gun 50..."

Suddenly, the voice in the classroom went up. Some students began to react to the last two notes, and rightly so.

"How the hell do they come second or third in the exam and get so low in the quiz? It's all out there."

Dae Gun turned to the boy who said this and said, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm saying you're torpedoed, brother, it's pretty obvious. How did you get from middle place to third place with zero effort? Are you a genius?"

"Look at me!" when he stood up, Dae Gang sat him down, "Let him go."

A girl in the back row said, "What's happening is happening to us because of people like you! You're a coward... Do it with your own success. You are incapable."

Dae Gang said, "Isn't it impotent to take your pain out on others because you don't get a high grade?"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"I'm saying you're torpedoed, brother, it's pretty obvious. How did you get from middle place to third place with zero effort? Are you a genius?"

"Look at me!" when he stood up, Dae Gang sat him down, "Let him go."

A girl in the back row said, "What's happening is happening to us because of people like you! You're a coward... Do it with your own success. You are incapable."

Dae Gang said, "Isn't it impotent to take your pain out on others because you don't get a high grade?"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Never mind, Minnie, these things are unspeakable."

"Excuse me?"

As the argument spread throughout the class, the teacher yelled and silenced them. He told me to keep going.

"Park Jihyo 95, Wen Junhui 80, Roseanne Park 100, Jo Shin-yeol 100-"

"Like your first place, I hope this isn't a torpedo." I knew he was telling me when the fool interrupted me and looked at him angrily.

"No, it's my own success, as is my first place."

Some laughed, while others did not react. Another boy grinned nervously, "Sure! It's always been your own success."

Another girl asked, "You must have a connection with twins, not triplets?"

As half the class laughed, my body stiffened with nervousness, and I began to squeeze the paper between my hands. The teacher slammed his hand the table.

"Come to your senses! What kind of speech do you speak? There's no tampering with these notes, it's what you get. Know your words!"

"But sir, they're not just doing the same thing for this quiz, they're always doing the same thing."

"Yes, sir! Our families want us to get high grades, but we work and we get them, they are deserving."

I shouted angrily, "I didn't deserve it! Find another cover for your jealousy!"

One of them laughed, "What am I jealous of you? Your money?"

"Exactly, talk, talk, we're listening." after hearing another sarcastic sentence, I realized that I couldn't take it anymore.

"Off... You're really annoyed! It's so annoying, it's so repulsive!" I didn't care about the teacher who called out after me as I threw the paper on the floor and hurried out of the classroom. I barely threw myself into the fire escapes, waited until I got there, and as soon as I sat down on the step, I started crying.

Even if I cover my face with my hand so that I don't have a voice, I don't think it works. So much so that someone had already come to this sound.

"Well... Can I help?"

When I looked up, I saw a boy I didn't know. Who do I know in this school, though?

I quickly wiped away my tears as I don't like to cry in front of anyone as this boy with a cast on his hand looked at me anxiously.

"You can't be."

I thought he would leave, but he came and sat next to me. I looked at him in amazement, still worried and compassionate.

"I don't think I can turn around and leave after seeing you like this. Could you at least tell me what it is?"

My gaze went away. It hurt a lot.

"They say I'm torpedoed, so they think I'm first. They're all disgusting scum."

"Oh, you must be Jo Shin-yeol."

When he held out his hand, I turned to him, "I'm Kim Mingyu."

These were things so foreign to me that I couldn't even reach out and shake the child's hand. He had already withdrawn, "Well, you don't seem to like handshakes. I saw his name on the list, I know it from there. I finished fifth, but I'm laughing."

"Why? Is it so good to be fifth?"

"Are you a maniac, of course it's very good! Well, at least for me. You don't know how hard I tried to even get from ninth to fourth. It's against my constitution to work so hard."

I couldn't help but laugh and he laughed too. After wiping my moist cheeks, I corrected my posture.

"Thank you, I never thought I'd be able to laugh in this situation."

"You can laugh in any situation. Even rose; That's the best answer you can give them."

I sighed deeply. I don't want to be the interlocutor enough to respond to them, but they push the boundaries so much that I'm the one who ends up answering and coming out harmful.

I looked at my watch, and there were twenty minutes left in class. I stood up. I couldn't go to class now. I decided to go to the canteen to get a coffee and recuperate. When Mingyu stood up, I turned to him.

"Don't you have a lesson?"

"The class is the body, and I'm on leave," he said as he showed his plastered hand. I shook my head, "Get well soon."

"Thank you. Where do you plan to go?"

"Canteen. I'll go into the classroom for a second class, and it would be weird to go back now after I've left."

He laughed, "It is. Can I accompany you? My friends play football, I'm the only one left."

"It happens."

We had coffee together in the canteen and talked a little. I found out that he was in the 2/3 class. For now, he aimed to move to 2/2, he is normally a diligent student, but this year his grades dropped because the classes were a little empty. Now he was trying to regain his old order.

When the bell rang, we continued the conversation during the break and then said goodbye. I was back in class when he went out into the garden. I was doing my best to ignore them while the people in the class were looking at me in a type-by-type manner. Wonwoo didn't take his eyes off me until he got to my turn. When I sat down, he turned to me.

"Are you okay?"

"Does he care too much? You don't think differently from them."

He turned in front of him without an answer. Sighing, I leaned back and crossed my arms.

The gaze on me ended when the teacher arrived. Luckily, Mr. Kim didn't say anything about me throwing the notepaper and leaving. Of course, what I did wasn't right, so he told me that I had to wait in class after class. Well, I'm not surprised.

Since our next class was chemistry, we had to go to the lab. When everyone left, I waited in line. Mr. Kim left his glasses on the table and approached and sat on Wonwoo's empty bench in front of me.

"I know your mother didn't ask the principal for any torpedoes about your grades. He makes those donations of his own free will."

Such was the teacher Kim Junmyeon; He wouldn't judge you, he would trust you and support you. But no one knew its value.

"Still, that stigma sticks on him. Do you know why?"

"They're jealous of my grades."

"No," he laughed and added, "I mean, not really. Shin-yeol, it's your behavior that's the problem."

"My behavior?"

"You may not be torpedoed, but that doesn't mean you don't use your mother's power. You can leave the classroom according to your mind, you don't go to classes if you don't want to, you don't pay attention to the tone of your voice when you speak, so you often get into arguments. Just when you're walking, you have the vibe of owning the school. Yes, your grades are so good thanks to your own achievement, your own intelligence. But your behavior... You've got to get yourself in order about it."

Mr. Kim always spoke to me honestly, but the first time he smacked me in the face, I didn't want to admit it. I shook my head.

"How can I act like a model student when they are insulting me? That's what I do."

"You can't just say that's the production and get away with it, Shin-yeol, it's true for everyone! Look, I know you're not a bad person, that's why I'm having this conversation with you. If your actions were as appropriate as your grades, no one would treat you as a torpedo."

I leaned back, exhaling a troubled exhale. A few weeks ago, I was reminded of a sentence that Wonwoo said; "You can be a smart girl, but it doesn't matter because of your ego. Your arrogance has blocked your way!"

Mr. Kim was speaking for my sake. But Wonwoo's was pure hate. My interest in him made me do such ridiculous things that instead of getting to know each other, we were drifting further and further away. Because he's kind of disgusted with me.

"You live this life like a princess; But remember, princesses happen in fairy tales. We are struggling for life in the most painful way in the middle of reality."

I frowned, "I wish you were a philosophy teacher."

He laughed, "But think about what I said. You can get out."

I got up from my bench and made my way to the door. When I left the classroom, I took my cardigan from the hanger and threw it over my shoulder. When I entered the lab, not all of the students were inside because the class bell had not yet rung. So I moved on to the first vacant place I found. And I certainly didn't know Wonwoo was sitting in front of me. Of course, he didn't think so, so as soon as he saw me in the classroom, he rolled his eyes and came and started packing his things.

I pressed my hand on the pen holder he was about to pick up, "You probably wouldn't die if you sat across from me, you're already in front of me in class."

He tugged at his pencil holder hard, "Couldn't you find another place in the big class?"

I defended myself by saying, "I sat in the first place, I didn't know you were here," but he never believed it. He rolled his eyes and sat down on the stool and stopped to pack his things, "I'm sure it is."

Jeon Wonwoo is the embodiment of the word stubbornness!

Before the teacher rang the bell, the class was slowly filling up. I could feel Wonwoo's gaze on me as I took out my chemistry notebook and placed it in front of me. Already soon he began to speak.

"What did Mr. Kim say?" he averted his eyes when I looked up at him, "So if it's not special..."

I smiled slightly at her sweet shyness, and said, "He said I should be careful with my behavior." His brows furrowed as his eyes found me again, "Your behavior?"

"Hm. That I live like a princess, but that's wrong."

He laughed sarcastically, "She's not a princess; child."

This time it was my turn to frown, "Boy?"

"You don't act like a princess, you act like a spoiled child. How are you different from the little children who cry when their candy is taken from them, and who break all hell when they don't get what they want?"

No, I wasn't offended, offended, or angry.

Because he said these things willingly, even to hurt me, and he tried to distance me from him in this way. He's got a plan, he's going after it, but I'm not going to come to his game.

"Do you know what's the difference?" he shook his head with a frustrated look;

"Once children experience things that hurt, they always run away from it. I couldn't leave you."

I saw him swallow. His jaw dropped, but he couldn't give an answer. While we were just staring at each other, we both turned in front of us when the teacher arrived. I've never had any luck since Wonwoo saw me as a kid and himself as candy.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

For two days, Wonwoo had continued to run away from me, and the more he did, the more I chased him. Some things never change.

There was a basketball game today, and Wonwoo looked so cute with a bandana on his head that I couldn't take my gaze off him. While the other girls were screaming Soonyoung, Mingyu, or Seungcheol's name, my only focus was on Wonwoo. I don't care about anyone else.

The gym was filled with enthusiastic cheering, and by the time the first half was over, it had become a little quieter. When I looked at Wonwoo sitting on one of the chairs at the side of the field, I noticed that he was out of breath, but there was no water there. I made my way to the unopened packages, tore the nylon, and grabbed two bottles and went over to him. I sat down and handed one to him and placed the other next to him. He was really tired, he put the water on his head.

"Basketball doesn't work for cows."

Even though he didn't like being called a nerd, he didn't bother about it and grumbled about the coach, "I told the coach not to add me to the team so I can't do it! Who's listening?"

"Why do you say that, you got the first number."

"It is, but I don't have time for that kind of thing. I have to study for the second exams."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "You're really a nerd." she stared at me, "You're the one who likes a nerd, but?"

I pressed my lips together and smiled, and leaned slightly over him with the support of my hand, "I see you're getting used to it?"

She blinked in panic, she was incredibly cute!

"What's the point? Or stay away! You're getting on my nerves."

I pulled back, chuckling and laughing. By the start of the second half, he had clenched his neck and ran towards the field. It didn't matter if they won or didn't win because it was a friendly match for the upper classes. They were just playing for fun. With the comfort of this, I only watched Wonwoo.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

The other team won the match, but as I said, it was a friendly match, winning was not anyone's priority. As I drove to the car alone after school, I caught up with Wonwoo, who was a few steps ahead of me.

"I can let go."

"I'm not crazy enough to get into the car of someone who doesn't have a license, so keep it."

"I drove the car for only one day, today the driver is taking it. And even though I don't have a driver's license, I drive it just fine."

"Whatever."

He wasn't about to stop, and when I grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him, he let out a weary breath.

"Rest in peace, Shin-yeol."

"You too."

"I'm already-" he knew what I meant and paused, and I laughed lightly. But he still looked bored, and my brows furrowed when he continued, "I don't have the peace you're looking for, get it."

"How do you know? You didn't even make an effort to get to know me. You always make firm decisions without trying."

"Because I don't have time for that! I'm the nerd who can't think of anything but my grades, and you'd better find yourself a bum like yourself."

A bum like yourself...

He had gone again. The sweet bickering between us was gradually turning into painful arguments.

When I got home, my mom came home early from work, so we went to the kitchen to have a snack together. Although everyone treated us as if we were incapable people, my mother was a decent woman who knew the law very well. My interest in Wonwoo manifested itself for the first time and made me too crazy to study thinking about him, and I dropped to fifth place in the class. But even then, my mother didn't raise her voice to me one bit, believing that I would be able to succeed in the next exam. He even consoled himself by saying that fifth place wasn't bad.

People talk about a woman like that, and that's what I'm most mad about. Then why is Jo Shin-yeol acting like a bum, and they infuriate you!

"How was school today?"

"It sucks," I said quickly. I wouldn't hide anything from him. Well, except for Wonwoo, but he could already guess it, "Being in the same class as the people who treated me like a torpedo again two days ago will continue to ruin my every day."

"Let them go, girl! They say that a person knows his own business. They use the power of money for small things, so they think you do too. You are building your own successful future. Don't even hear them talking."

I was stuck on one sentence.

"Do you know who uses torpedoes?"

"So... I've witnessed it a few times at a parents' meeting, but I don't have any clear information."

I put my hands on the table and came to the front, "Mom, please tell me! Who are they? Look, everyone blames me."

He sighed as he placed the plate full of biscuits in front of me, brought a cup of coffee each, and sat down on the chair across from me.

"Park Yul Yeon, the mother of twins, is a bit of a perfectionist. He's so used to having the best of everything that he can't stomach his kids getting low grades, and he's ashamed. So he may have had some conversations with your assistant manager."

"Mom, don't talk about it! And what does it mean to be an assistant director? I think he met with the principal."

My mother shook her head, "Principal Rhee is a fair educator who does not accept bribes. He is a close friend of your grandfather, I know from there. But he's Vice Principal Woon, he's really to be feared."

"Well, he couldn't have done such a thing without Principal Rhee knowing. Besides, if you know that, why didn't you tell the principal at all?"

"I don't have any evidence. Not only me, but also many other parents are aware of the situation and they remain silent with the mindset that the mother will get bread for us."

I clenched my hands into fists in anger, "What happens happens to me happens as long as they stay silent. To this day, I have always received those grades on my own, but I am being treated like a torpedo because you donated to the school."

"It doesn't make any sense, what kind of mindset do your friends have? I donate not only to your school, but also to many other schools and institutions. It's a common thing for your father and me, but people are so used to thinking badly!"

"Their hearts are ugly, their way of thinking is ugly, their character is ugly... I don't know what to do anymore."

He smiled and took my hand.

"You have your family behind you, you don't have to be bullied by anyone. Don't worry, I'll figure it out."

"How?"

"You leave it to me, come on, your coffee has gone cold."

I was trying to understand what was going through my mother's mind as I drank my warm coffee, but it was impossible. He thought so fast and made sound decisions that it was impossible to keep up with him. Still, I was sure that he would do something to get me out of this trouble. At least, I hope so.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

[wonwoonlight]

there's not a single star in the sky / xu minghao & kim mingyu (preview)

➝ Minghao x Reader / Mingyu x Reader / not a love triangle

➝ soulmate!au // angst // somewhat slowburn // fluff in between? // a journey of acceptance and moving on

➝ total word count: 11.9k (lol)

➝release date: 9 Nov 2022

➝ summary: he's your soulmate. so why did the universe also decide he's not the one you're going to spend your forever with?

여기 이 세상이 아름다운 건

the reason why this word is beautiful

그대가 머문 흔적들 때문에 아마

is probably because it has traces of you

[Jo Sungmo - Do You Know]

“That’s nonsense.” He frowns like your sentence personally offends him, his words bringing tears to your eyes before you even realize. “Art is for everyone. Have you actually tried painting?”

‘Angel, that is not a painting!’ Mingyu laughed with the entirety of his chest, not minding your pout even the tiniest bit. ‘That’s just doodles. Gosh, you’re so cute.’

‘I told you I didn’t want to do this!’ you whined as you tried to get away from his embrace. Seriously, this guy was a good 20cm taller than you and he liked to just bend down and bury his face onto your neck like it’s not physically uncomfortable for him to do so. ‘I’m not going to let you plan another date.’

Mingyu simply grinned and hugged you tighter at that, knowing full well that you didn’t mean any of it.

‘Art is for everyone though,’ he whispered with a laugh, his lips upon your cheek. ‘You did great. We should try watercoloring sometimes.’

“Did… I say something wrong?” Minghao’s worried voice brings you back to the present, and you blink back the tears before they actually fall down, your voice caught in your throat.

“No.” You clear your throat then excuse yourself to the bathroom in hope Minghao doesn’t notice anything. From the way he simply nods, you hope that’s the case, but the gentle eyes full of concern following you until the bathroom door closes certainly implies otherwise. 

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

A/N: hi. i did not expect the fic to get this long. i've finished writing everything so i just need to edit and it should be up some time this week <3

i am actually nervous for some reason dsfjhdfbg

[boba-xing]

Captivating {Chapter 2}

Fem!Reader x Werewolf!Choi Seungcheol (SVT)

Warnings: none

Tagged: @suhappysuho

-

Your heart rate quickens, your whole body shaking as you assume the worst. Of course your mind wouldn't be in the right place having just watched a horror film with someone who’s basically a stranger. You were only relying on irrational feelings of trust and familiarity.

Your entire body jumps as a harsh knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts. "Are you okay in there, love?"

It only just occurs to you that you've been in there for a while, presumably worrying the possible murderer outside the door.

"Y-yeah." Wow, good job sounding calm, ___.

"What's wrong, love? I told you I would protect you from the leprechaun." although the comment is light-hearted you can hear the concern in his voice,

Making a mental note to yourself that this would be the last horror film you ever watched, you tried to calm yourself. Surely there was a rational reason for a bloody piece of cloth in the cupboard. You lean towards it, gently tugging at the handle - revealing the fabric to be a shirt sleeve.

Maybe one of his friends cut themselves cooking or something? He said Mingyu was clumsy.

"Love?" You realised he was still outside the door,

You sigh to yourself, persuading your brain it was being stupid, over reacting about something so small.

Still on edge, you pull open the door, having not gone to the toilet at all. "I'm just not feeling that great, maybe I should go home."

"Did I do something?" he pouts slightly, the familiar warm feeling appearing in your chest,

"No, I'm just feeling a bit faint." You frown,

"I'm sorry, I swear we won't watch a scary film again." He reassures you, "I would love to take you home but it's dark out and we live in the middle of nowhere, perhaps you would like to stay the night?"

Stay the night? Oh god, this evening was becoming a nightmare.

"I-"

"-you can have my room, I'll make sure the boys don't go in there when they get back. I promise." He bites his lip, "I could get Jeonghan to look you over, he's good with medical stuff."

"I-" you sigh, "Are you sure I can't go home? I don't mean to be rude."

"I just, I'd rather not drive when it's dark out, it's been raining, we live quite far away from town and if we got into an accident..."

"I understand." You nod, "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Really, it's fine." He smiles, "Come on, I'll take you to my room."

He guides you upstairs, opening the bedroom door for you and rushing to organise the bed. His room is unsurprisingly calm, everything very simple and tidy. His bedside table hosts a picture of him and his friends as well as one of a girl you've never seen before. "Who's this?"

You lift the picture carefully, admiring the delicate features of the girl in the frame, "My sister."

"Sorry, I don't mean to be nosy." You place the frame back down, looking over at his slightly tense figure,

"It's okay." His eyes twitch slightly into a soft smile, "She passed away when she was young, that's one of the only photos I have of her."

"Seungcheol." You hug him involuntarily, not meaning to create a million butterflies in his chest. His hand brushes hair out of your face as you pull back.

"Really, it's okay, it was a long time ago, I just like to remember her every now and then." He folds the duvet back, gesturing for you to sit down. "Would you like something more comfortable to sleep in? You can have one of my hoodies, they'd be pretty big on you."

Not waiting for your response, he pulls open one of the closet doors and pulls out a hoodie, handing it to you.

"I'll just leave you now. If there's anything you need just shout." He gently rubs your arm, before heading out of his room and closing the door behind him, "Sleep well, love."

---

You're awoken by a sharp yell only metres away from your door, something you find extremely annoying due to your terrible night's sleep.

Your mind instantly flashes back to what happened and you sigh at your pathetic behaviour. You had over reacted, and you were embarrassed.

Pulling you body from the warm sheets, your bare feet carry you down the stairs - Seungcheol's hoodie falling mid-thigh, you can’t lie, you greatly enjoy wearing oversized clothing.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." You rub your eyes with your sleeve paws and sigh at Seungcheol's calming voice. If only you knew how his heart fluttered at the adorable sight before him.

Properly opening your eyes you encounter a large group of men in the kitchen, some sparing you glances, some ignoring your presence and others just staring you down.

"Sorry about them, they're a little unfriendly in the morning." He smiles, dark hair softly tousled upon his head. He looks so warm and cuddly it takes all your strength not to run into his arms, "Did you sleep well?"

"Not really, but thank you." You hear one of the boys snicker at your answer.

"Jihoon." Seungcheol warns, looking over at a rather small yet muscular man perched at the end of the counter.

Jihoon looks unbothered.

"Let's go somewhere a little less crowded." Cheol grabs your hand in his, leading you into a smaller room opposite the kitchen. He sits you down on the sofa, and you can't help but admire how perfectly your small hand fits in his large one. "I'm sorry about them, well Jihoon in particular. Friendliness isn't his speciality. He'll warm up to you. And the others may be a little cold but some of them already like you."

You were slightly confused as to why he seemed to be describing your stay there as permanent, but you shrugged those worries off and instead focused his words.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt." You look up at the thin-faced man who's now appeared in the doorway, plate in hand, "I thought you might want some breakfast before they all eat it."

"Thanks, Josh." Seungcheol smiles, taking the plate from him and passing it to you, "___, this is Joshua."

"Hi." He grins cutely at you. You return it. "Are you feeling better?"

It takes you a moment to realise your previous illness, replying with red in your cheeks, "Y-yeah, I think sleeping helped."

"Good, if you feel a bit off again just let me know." He sends you a cheeky wink before rushing out of the room,

Seungcheol sends you a smile at his absence, placing the plate in front of you and encouraging you to dig in.

"Are you sure you're okay, love?" he raises his eyebrows, "If there's anything bothering you just say. I'm not going to hurt you."

If it hadn't been for the trusting look in his eyes then you would've been confused as to why he said that, instead you sigh, dropping your knife and fork momentarily. "Do you really want to know? It's kind of stupid."

"I'm sure it's not," He places his hand delicately over yours.

"It's just...last night when we watched the film and I went to the bathroom, I saw what looked like fabric with blood on it, and I guess I was just tired and maybe the film affected me or something and I freaked out." You bite your lip, anxious of his response,

"Hey, it's okay." He smiles warmly at you, the calm grin covering up his inner anger, "Like I said, the boys are quite clumsy. Before you got here Soonyoung had an accident, I just put his shirt in the cupboard when I went to get the medical kit."

"Yeah, I thought I was being stupid."

"That's not stupid at all. I mean, you're in a house with a man you hardly know, late at night and you see a bloodied shirt after watching a horror film, I would be scared too." He chuckles, "And you're in the middle of the woods, it's not like you have anywhere to go."

For some reason his sentence sends rings an alarm bell in the back of your head, it almost seems like he's mocking how you can't leave. "On that topic, maybe I should leave now? I'm feeling better and I think I just want to go home and rest."

"You can rest here." His expression looks hurt, his eyes darkening ever so slightly at the suggestion you left.

"Well, yes, but I just want to go home."

"Why?"

You glance up at him.

"I thought we were having a good time. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Seungcheol, I just want to go home. My roommate is probably wondering where I am." Your fingers play at the edge of your sleeves.

"___, why don't you stay a little longer? You can't be in a rush, can you?"

The door swinging open breaks the awkward silence, and you both look up to see Joshua. He glances between both of you, already aware of your strange conversation, "Sorry about Seungcheol, he's very tired, he didn't sleep very well. I can take you home, if you'd like."

"Jos-"

"Oh, thank you." You stand up, making your way out of the room and following Joshua to the hallway,

"Here's your stuff." He hands you a bag, presumably with your clothes in and you both make your way to the car, not even saying good bye to Seungcheol.

-

When you get home it's almost 11am, you toss the bag of clothes onto the cabinet and throw yourself down on your bed.

You're home.

You breathe out a big sigh, rolling over and staring at the ceiling. Just as you start dozing off, your phone rings - your small hands reaching for it and frowning at the caller ID.

Decline.

He's really the last person you want to talk to right now.