#rockstar! 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.

[writingmeraki]

the etiquettes of a true bodyguard — j.ww drabble.

❝ in which wonwoo proves the theory of humans tending to crave what they can't have and he realises that he definitely wants you.

( or you wonder if this was all your karma catching up to you when you become the bodyguard for the renowned notorious rockstar. )

pairing : rockstar!wonwoo x bodyguard!reader, one-sided enemies to ?? genre : angsty, fluffy. warnings : mentions of attacks, injuries, knives, stalkers, treating of wounds, blood. wonwoo is sort of rude. notproofread.

a/n at the end ( it got too long ) pls read and also lmk what u think of this : )

word count : 3.3k

Don’t believe in rumours regarding your clients. (The truth is far more better albeit there’ll always be exceptions. )

You'd mastered the art of nonchalance. 

If such a thing did even exist but in other words you were very in control of your emotions, usually being able to maintain a calm facade even if there was chaos around you. 

You suppose it was due to your occupation, after all being an agent did require a lot of keeping your emotions in check.

Even when you weren't doing your job and doing something else, it wasn't as if there was some sort of on and off button where you could switch up your personality and let loose. It just wasn't habituated to you. 

Being a bodyguard however was different. A favour is what it was. You owed a favour to someone and that someone made you repay the favour by being a bodyguard for someone else they knew. 

You couldn't argue about it because at the end of it still meant you were repaying back what you owed. 

It was like a glorified version of a babysitter. Following someone around, making sure they don't mess up or get messed up. That's the whole jist of it. 

Or at least it was what you thought initially. 

But you forgot it wasn't children or teens. Rather grown ass adults. Almost your age type adults. 

Said adults being rockstars part of a rock band that was composed of four of them.

Apparently, in this industry it was common for these celebrities to have personal bodyguards because of the threats they'd face such as fans who get a little crazy, jealous people who tend to push the limits to the max with death threats, paparazzi who have no idea what a personal space is and the list goes on and on. 

You never had been a bodyguard before so when you discovered all the reasons a “mere” singer would need one, you were shocked to say the least. 

Yet, a favour is a favour and you would keep to your word and do your best, so that's what you did. Being the best bodyguard was the goal. 

It was your first time doing such a task? Mission? You couldn’t quite understand where this role would fall into because unlike the past where these roles were just disguises, this was actually the real deal. 

And just as you did in the past, you did a background check on your target, no wait clients.

SVT. A short form of seventeen. The year they had formed the band. SVT is composed of four members. They were a rock band that rose to fame over the years, gaining a loyal fanbase due to their unique music style and concepts.

Choi Seunghcheol, the lead guitarist. Also the leader of the band. He was younger than you but he was the oldest amongst the four. He was someone the public adored, his personality was contrary to what usual rockstars were stereotyped as, quite the gentleman.

Kim Mingyu, the drummer of the band. He was coined with a golden retriever like personality, outshining in a room full of people just by his mere presence. Tall, buff and once again quite contrary to the stereotypes. He was the charmer of the group you suppose.

You were wondering if they were actually a rock band at that point, but then came the other two. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe, keyboard player, clung onto the typical stereotypes like it was his coat. Rebellious and confidence was his whole get-go. He was true to his role, on and off-stage.

All of them were in fact, completely different on stage based on your research.

And how could you forget Jeon Wonwoo? 

Saving the best for last you suppose. Jeon Wonwoo, the vocalist. It was as if there was more than enough information to know exactly what he was like. Reckless, rebellious, passionate, charmer. There were numerous rumours surrounding him, in fact they all did, but it seemed he was the public’s favourite. From being a frequent party-goer, to the typical supposed playboy, it seemed that he was always a topic. 

They all did have their fair share of rumours, you had to dig into all the dirt, even the worse one because after all you wanted to be ready for what would come. 

You should have known with the glint in his eyes and the smirk on his face the first time you saw him when you were introduced to SVT, that he was not going to make your goal easier.

Gradually, you got introduced to the rest of them and learnt they were alright, as a matter of truth,you got along with Seungcheol a lot in the way you were both pretty much the oldest, where you were older by two years to him, so it was almost as if he looked up to you for a lot of advice. 

Mingyu was well…Mingyu. He had that energy in him that seemed to outshine any room he walked in and he was actually quite a sweetheart too. Always listened and took into consideration.

Vernon was basically almost like a kid to you. He'd say the most out of place shit that would always catch you off guard and had you contemplating why exactly you were there. It was actually quite a contrast to what you had searched about him. A good contrast, you concluded.

However, you were fine with all of them. The problem begins with Jeon Wonwoo.

Him with his messy hair, messy eye makeup that somehow suited him, lips that curved up into a perfect smirk. He was trouble if it existed in human form. As cliche as it sounded. It was their whole aesthetic though, the messy looks and makeup but he somehow looked like he was born to be a star like that. 

He was reckless though. You think that’s one of his flaws. Or he purposely tried to make your life harder. It seemed, the rumours were not just that, they were the actual reality of him.

And due to the whole rebellious thing he had going on, he hated you. 

Wonwoo in other words, did not like the idea of a personal bodyguard following him around everywhere. He knew due to their subsequent rise to fame, the negative parts would also come. He was fine with having security when they were attending events, going to the airports. As a group it was fine. But he dreaded it the day he was informed by his manager, Seungkwan, each of them would be assigned a personal bodyguard to be with them all times of the day.

Perhaps, it was because he never understood the need for one. He was not attacked physically but then again, it was always better to be safe than sorry. 

The first day he saw you, despite all of them being a bit taken aback by how young you actually were and not only that you weren’t too bad on the eyes either, he was annoyed. 

He could feel it in his bones, you were someone who stuck to rules. Always being by the book. Wonwoo hated that. And he would do just about everything to make sure, you’d quit. He did not need a personal bodyguard before. He wouldn’t need one now. 

How wrong he was about to be proven.

“Mr. Jeon, you should be more care-”

“Don’t call me that.” 

Pausing in your steps, you furrowed your eyebrows in question. You were making sure your own annoyance wouldn’t be shown. Wonwoo did not pay attention to you suddenly not trailing him, going forward towards the midnight grocery store. 

It was ridiculous to think he needed someone to protect him when he was just going for a quick five minute run to the store that was near their hotel to get a drink. 

He was just about to go quietly and be back without anyone noticing but of fucking course, you were able to somehow know. 

“This is ridiculous, it’s just five minutes.” He spoke with anger, his eyes glaring at you, pretty lips in a scowl. You wondered if he knew that despite trying to look intimidating, he somehow looked more pretty. 

“Just? A lot can happen in five minutes.” You said calmly, eyes making contact with him. You could tell he wasn’t used to people not cowering away under his glare.

He inhaled sharply, eyes closing for a brief moment, “Whatever.” 

He pushed past you, making sure to knock into your shoulder. If it weren’t for the brief discontent you felt towards him, maybe you could have appreciated how put together he looked despite it almost being very late. Grey and black were his colours. 

And that was how you’d ended up mid argument, trying to tell him to be careful of the darkness caused by the absence of some street lights. They were turned off probably due to malfunction. It gave the entire street a very eerie vibe because since only a few were functioning, it would be hard to make out who was walking in front of you. 

You were accustomed to the dark, knowing what to keep in mind and always being observant. However, Wonwoo wasn’t. His judgement at the moment was clouded by irritance at your presence. 

It was only for a brief second but you were able to make out a quick flash of movement just in front of Wonwoo. It was fast, likely so no one can know. Wonwoo had turned to putting his attention on his phone, scrolling and mumbling curses at you under his breath. 

The store was still a few metres ahead, standing out by being one of the few only lit buildings. It was due to the glow of the lights of the store, you were able to catch the movement. 

Before you knew it, you instinctively rushed forward and harshly grabbed Wonwoo’s arm, him almost dropping his phone and yelping, you threw him behind you. 

The intruder appeared from the right side, where there was an unlit tiny alley, the perfect place to wait for unsuspecting late nighters. You grabbed the knife that was raised midway, ready to slash into the person ahead. 

It was so fast, Wonwoo felt he would have missed it if he blinked because next thing he knew, he was suddenly shoved far to the left. All he saw was you holding the hand of a fully black clothed person, who was in turn holding a knife. The knife that would have likely pierced him if…if it weren’t for you. 

You did not care if the knife was pressing into the palm of your hand, piercing your skin, all you cared about was making sure nothing were to happen to Wonwoo. And so when you heard what you thought was a gasp of pain, you roughly pushed away the intruder, who was also in shock because he did not expect you. And tonight, he did not want a fight he wasn’t even sure he’d win and so he escaped when he got the chance. 

You quickly rushed to Wonwoo, who’d by your shove, had stumbled and fallen. He didn’t even realise it, trying to make sense of what just happened in the past few minutes. 

“Mr.Jeon!Mr Jeon- Wonwoo!” You were shaking him harshly by his shoulders as he blinked back to reality upon hearing his name. His name for the first time from you. In probably the worst case he could imagine. 

“Are you alright?” Out of pure concern, you held his face, scanning for injuries as you pushed back his hair. You then took his hands and did the same to make sure he wasn’t hurt too bad. Just a little scrap from falling.

Wonwoo, for the good of everything, could not explain why his heart felt like it’d combust the moment you touched his face and brushed his hair. He knew why you were doing it but it didn’t stop his heart from fluttering.

Why? 

He was confused. He hated you. Was it possible he couldn’t quite understand if it was truly hate?

“Wonwoo?” He realised he still hadn’t replied, but when he heard his name for the second time, he also had another realisation. He thinks he likes the way you say it. 

“Yeah- yeah I’m alright I-” He muttered, looking away as he stood up, “Let’s just- let’s just go back.”

He decided he didn’t want to go to the damned store, nor get the drinks. He just wanted to rest. His head felt dizzy at the idea of almost being hurt severely. It was though it only took a few moments for him to realise maybe he had been wrong all along, heck not maybe, he was definitely wrong.

“Okay, let’s go.” 

You didn’t even question him as he trailed right beside you, almost to the point you were in sync, when a while ago, he seemed repulsed at being near you. 

You followed him up to his room, but not before making sure there was no one trailing you and informing the other security around the hotel, regarding the intruder and telling someone to also inform the police.

He didn’t get irritated like he usually would, in fact he was too quiet. 

“Are you actually fine Mr.Jeon?” He frowned, he didn’t like the way you called him, remaining ever so in character.

“No- no don’t call me that, Wonwoo is fine.”

 You blinked once, twice to make sure you were hearing correctly. You slowly nodded, “Oh-kay, but,are you alright?”

“Yes, I uh- I'm fine.”

“My apologies, you weren't able to get your meal.” 

You were sorry? He could have died and you…you saved him but you were the one who felt bad?

He hated the fact that only now was he actually realising what could have possibly happened if you weren’t there. 

He felt stupid. 

Glancing towards you,his gaze drifted towards your hand, the injured one half-heartedly wrapped with a makeshift bandage from your handkerchief likely.

“Let me bandage that for you properly, I feel it is the least I could do.” 

You were about to argue, as you would, about how you’d do it yourself and to not fret over you because it was something you were pretty used to. Besides it wasn’t as big of a deal anyway, just a minor scrap. 

But before you could, he reached out for your hand, holding it in his and looked back up at you. And this time, the way he did, it made you feel…uneasy. His hand felt warm. Very warm. Compared to your bleeding out hand.

Uneasy in a way where your heart fluttered. You couldn’t seem to form a thought as you stared right into his eyes. They were a rich brown colour that reminded you of pools of honey under the sun. It was unusual for you to ever think like that for someone let alone your actual client. 

He spoke in a soft tone, you were sure you wouldn’t hear if you weren’t so close, “Please?”

 It was definitely not normal for the way your throat seemed to dry up upon hearing him say that word. 

“Oh-okay, alright.” And without much thought, you agreed and convinced yourself it was definitely not because of the puppy eyes he’d given you or the way his hand seemed to hold yours as if nothing else in the world existed for him. 

You think those were what you’d call famous last words, because at the moment, you were regretting even agreeing. It wasn’t because of Wonwoo in particular, in fact he did prove to be someone who knew how to bandage efficiently.

But it was also because of him, your mind was simply a haywire. 

You sat down on his bed, immediately hit by his signature smell as soon as you stepped in the room. It was everywhere but not in an overwhelming way, in a way that indicated it was a room that was lived in by him. 

He came up with the first aid kit from the bathroom and sat beside you turning his body towards you as you faced forward with your feet down, feeling unprofessional to even sit fully on his bed. 

Not that the whole ordeal would even fit into your etiquette rule book but perhaps you were beginning to realise, there were certain things you were wrong about. Or right. 

You specifically remember a particular article where the headline described Wonwoo as a “shallow brat with an attitude as well.” and to a certain point, it seemed that they may have been right. But that was not the case now.

Or was it ever the case?

This time, the truth was indeed far better than the rumour. 

It was as if the silence was enough to occupy the space between you two, him carefully cleaning your wound and disinfecting it. He glanced at your face during that part and was unsure whether to be worried or amazed by the fact that you didn’t even flinch when he wiped the hydrogen peroxide over your open cut. 

Your tongue was weighed down by the thoughts running in your mind, it was as if the person in front of you was actually another person. 

He was close to you, and the juxtaposition of moments ago to the current moment almost made you chuckle. It was hilarious how situations could change so quickly.

“There. Done.”

Raising your hand, you examined it with a scrutinising gaze making sure it was properly done. It made him feel slightly nervous yet he did not know if that was the only cause of that or upon the realisation of how your knees were touching the whole time — still were.

You got up, much to his disappointment, nodding along. 

“Good job actually, you’ve done great.” You swore you could see a faint blush painting his cheeks and his ears a shade redder than normal. You clenched your hand beside you, hoping it would calm your weirdly speeding up heart.

And this was when it really hit you, about where you were….who you were.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, “Well I should get going now. It’s far too late and you should get some rest as well.”

Immediately he slightly frowned at that, blinking in a bit of amazement at how quick you’d changed moods. Then again, the night seemed to be all about too many quick changes. 

You moved towards his door, not wanting to glance at him, not wanting to think or do anything that was definitely not just against your etiquettes but also your overall job. 

He was safe. He was sound too. Everything about him was good and what he needed was rest and you did too because it was one hell of a nigh—

“Wait!” 

You paused in your footsteps, already out of the door as you turned back around to face him.

“Goodnight…Y/n.” 

He stood against the door, as he stared at you with those same honey eyes of his, that you think would never fail to amaze you, even in the most unlikely of situations. 

And for the first time, or his first, he saw you smile. One corner slowly lifted while the other followed as you shook your head. And this time, it was his mind that seemed to blank out because holy shit. 

“Goodnight…Wonwoo.” You said with a grin as you waved him once and then turned back around. Nonchalantly. As if you hadn’t just…just smiled at him the way you did. 

And did you just address him with his first name without him whining about it?!?

His hand reached up to his chest, pressing tightly to his left part and realizing just how fast it beat against it.

Yeah he was sure about one thing.

This was in no way the so-called hatred he desperately wished he felt towards you existed.

But then again, did it ever?

a/n : urm hi. so um this was a very random idea that sprung to me like ages ago literal ages actually and i decided to pick it up and finallly finish this piece? it feels incomplete because i am actually maybe ( if this does well ) making this into sort of a drabble series with this same pairing but yk different scenarios and their dynamics changing as well? sorry if this feels rushed! i wrote like till a certain point way long ago and after that it's recent, i haven't written in a while so please excuse the weird flow as well. i just wanted to have some fun and also post something to show im alive hahaha pls let me know what you think and whether you'd want to read more of this pairing because tbh i kinda love them lollll :DDD

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys ; @toplinehyunjin ; @cherrylovescheol ; @stagefrjghts

( if you want to be added just send an ask/reply to this !)

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist ! | info !

[aria-recs-17-fics]

~WOOZI (LEE JIHOON) fic recommendations~

Part 11

(will add more in future)

Storm Breaker by @sailorrhansol

The perks of being that guy @ncteez

Between Glitz and Glamour by @himbocoups

You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) by @wooahaeproductions

of boobs and bases by @rubyreduji

jihoon's puppy by @rubyreduji

DON'T SWEAT IT by @miraclewoozi

Elevator by @cherriegyuu

Dear Valentine by @idyllic-ghost

[alphabetboyluvr]

masterlist

all fics are posted to wattpad first (don't judge a girlie by her primary upload platform </3)

i write about the stars, boys who are carved like greek sculptures, and the inability to communicate in a healthy, functional manner. and i also like to write about bangtan sonyeondan in relation to all of those things.

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

no translations | minors dni | don't be a dick x

JJK

SERIES

THROTTLE

pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers synopsis: in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you. current wc: 160,244 warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.

BAD DECISIONS - link will take you to the clubdionysus tumblr!

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb synopsis: it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions. current w/c: 450k notes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds 2024 note: wattpad took down bad decisions as part of their 2024 purge </3. it's now hosted on it's very own tumblr (clubdionysus) and over on ao3!

BAD DECISIONS SMUT INDEX

ONE SHOTS

extended - 5k words or more

ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRES

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader synopsis: your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out wordcount: 5.8K notes: angsty, smutty turmoil. it’s not that bad, but it definitely isn’t a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that’ll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

LANDSLIDES

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers) synopsis: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. wordcount: 6.8K warnings: fluff more than angst, but it’s not clean cut - there’s also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you’ve been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

something borrowed

- mafia au | forbidden love

dance with the devil

- royalty au | former lovers

KNJ

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

back to you

- idol au | exes

KSJ

MYG

SERIES

HUSH

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?) synopsis: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops ! current w/c: 17.5k notes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean… a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you’re jin’s sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he’s sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it’s cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

PALLADIUM

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut synopsis: min yoongi is urgent.  in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.  the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.   wordcount: 3.2K notes: three part series, fluff, angst, eventual smut, yoongi is incredibly conflicted, the oc is just as dumbfounded by the way she feels, lots of feelings!!

JHS

PJM

KTH

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

sundae (kinda love)

- childhood friends | angst

[httpknjoon]

taking chances | jjk

plot | After taking your chances with Jungkook three months ago, you two cross paths again. This time, the rockstar takes risks to ask Zafiro's royal princess out.

words | 4.7k+

genres | fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | a continuation. i made a playlist for this series! feel free to check it out :) I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I had fun writing this!

main masterlist | drabble series

“He totally likes you.”

Astrid immediately said as soon as you two were left alone in the palace. You know she has been itching to say that ever since you left Crystalline Stadium earlier. 

“Stop making up such a thing, Astrid,” you replied.

You don’t want to get your hopes high. But by the way that Jungkook acted earlier, your heart skipped with the idea that he might like you. Stop, YN. You warned yourself. This isn’t the first time you felt a brief infatuation with someone. It’s just that you usually took an interest in guys you bond with back when you were still studying. You never had a crush on someone you just saw singing and playing a guitar in a two-hour performance.

Unsatisfied with your response, your sister followed behind you as you walked up the stairs. She continue speaking behind you until you got in your room. She stopped on your room’s doorstep while you ignored her.

“I think everyone who was in that room can tell, YN. Jungkook tried to start a conversation with you! He was interested in you and your thoughts! He asked if you were a fan of their group even though you’re obviously not!  He even kissed your hand!” 

She was almost rapping with how many words she said in seconds. Her index finger points at your hand as if you were not aware of that. You rolled your eyes at how excited she seemed. 

“Can you lower your voice? I’m sure the house staff are already resting at this hour.” you quipped, trying to bury the topic away.

But Astrid was consistent. She went on, “And Mingyu! Mingyu tried to get our contacts. He tried! He also made Jungkook stand next to you before taking pictures with us.”

To avoid waking up other people in the palace, you just pulled her into your room and closed the door shut. A smile was stamped on her lips. You exhaled heavily, your shoulder rising up and down.

“Astrid, why are you pointing out all of these? What do you want me to do about it?”

Out of all the people in the world, you knew Astrid the most. You are each other’s partner in crime even though you have a six-year gap. You can read through her easily. That’s why she ran to you first when she needed help or advice. And based on that suspicious look on her face, her gears are turning for some crazy idea.

She grinned, “Give him a shot! Reach out to him.”

You immediately raised an eyebrow, scoffing, “Are you crazy?! Give him a shot?”

Astrid nods and you continue.

“Astrid, you don’t have to play Cupid for me. You didn’t even ask me if I–”

“Oh, you like him! You like him! I know it. I never saw you so timid and flustered with someone like earlier!” she cuts you off abruptly. “And the chemistry— it was crazy. I promise you, I never felt so thirdwheeled in my life.”

You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling at what she said.

“You still have your Instagram account, right?” she asked.

You acted clueless, “Of course, why would I delete it?”

Astrid slowly squinted her eyes at you, “No, not your official account. You know what I’ve been talking about. Your secret one. The one where you post your art.”

Tired, you nod your head defeatedly. You knew she won’t get off your back until you do something.

“Great!” she clapped her hands. “Now, slide into his DMs!”

You blinked, “Again, are you crazy?”

“Chill! It’s not like he’ll read it right away. He’s in the largest band in the whole world. He has millions of followers and you will be using your Finsta. It’s honestly a needle in a haystack situation.”

She’s right. It’s not like he will recognize you with your secret Instagram account.

“Then, why are we doing this if this is just impossible?” You asked with your hands on your hips.

“I don’t know.” Astrid paused. But then her eyes light up again,  “But let’s just try. Let’s see if destiny plays out.”

“Destiny, my foot.” you scoffed before reaching for your phone.

You sat on the other end of your bed. Your younger sister watched as you think, type, and think again. Less than two minutes later, you showed her your screen,

“There, I messaged him.”

Astrid’s eyes squinted while she scanned your chats to her favorite band’s singer, “Why do you still feel formal even when sliding into someone’s DM?” she teased. “Is this how you flirt?”

“Oh, shut up. Just go out of my room right now,” you told her like you were offended, threatening to throw your fluffy pillow in her direction.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Send it!” she cackled, standing up from the foot of your bed. She turned to you once again, “But in all seriousness though, thank you for coming with me tonight! I had so much fun. I appreciate it a lot.”

“Anything for my favorite sister.” you quipped.

She grinned and enveloped you in a tight hug. And after she leaves and closes your door, you find yourself staring at your phone screen. As if your breathing got heavier and louder.  Is he going to reply? Is he? If not, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal. We only met now. And it’s definitely not. It’s not like I’m hoping for it.

Shaking your head, you turned off your phone to stop your head from having more thoughts. You changed into your comfortable clothes and head to sleep, hoping not to have any special visitors in your dreams tonight.

“What did he say? What did he say?”

As soon as you get out of your bedroom door, your little sister greeted you with elated questions. You looked at her. She was still in her favorite pajamas while you are already ready for your agenda for the day.

“And good morning to you too, Astrid.” you smiled before walking past her and down the stairs. Of course, she followed behind you.

“Oh, my god. Did he reply? What did he say?”

She had her hands clasped on her chest when turned around to answer her. You can tell she had her hopes up high. 

“It was left on read, almost at the same time I sent it.”

The moment you said that, you see how the smile on her lips falls into a small o.

“Oh.”

“Guess, I’m just some needle in his haystack.” you joked, which made her pout. You laughed, shaking it off,  “I’m kidding. It’s fine.”

You entered the dining area of the palace. The staff who were serving your meals and preparing the table greeted you and your sisters. You greeted them back as you sat on your usual seats out of twenty other chairs in this spacious room.

“Rosie, can I ask for lemons and honey for my water?” you asked one of the servants.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

“Thank you.”

You ignored the baffled look on Astrid’s face at the same time you tried to turn a blind eye to that tightness in your stomach when you open your phone this morning. You don’t want to show Astrid that you were expecting so you try to play it off.

Before you can take a bite from your toast, your sister finally said something. “Maybe he thought you were just a random account.”

As much as you appreciate her effort to make everything better, you just want to move on from this topic. You were already sure from the beginning anyways that it was impossible to have such a connection with a world-famous rockstar like Jungkook. It was great to meet and see him perform live anyway.

“Sure, sure, Astrid. Now, let’s just have a peaceful breakfast and go on our day.”

“Turn here!”

“On your left!”

“Princess, here!”

The continuous flashes of lights and clicking sounds of cameras goes along with the requests of the photographers around you. You tried to accommodate their requests, turning your head and subtly posing for their lenses. For a quick second, you glanced around the white carpet, scanning among the unfamiliar faces, and eased off your shoulder when you spotted Nathalie, your assistant private secretary, in the corner. She was just behind you, fixing the tail of your gown as you move.

This year’s Met Gala theme is something along the lines of reimagining fairytales. Anna Wintour exclusively invited five royalties from around the world to come to the event. You and Astrid were among those five invited royalties. But your sister had to withdraw just four days ago due to flu. After learning that news, you almost didn’t want to go. 

You posed for a few more shots before you see Nathalie gesturing for you to go up the carpeted stairs. Before you reached the top, your eyes spotted the designer of your gown, who walked earlier than you. 

“You look magnificent, Your Royal Highness.” she greeted you as you shake hands with her.

“Thank you so much, Maria. This gown is marvelous.” you praised her. “I appreciate the adjustments you made.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Fran and I just knew you would be perfect in that gown. So we accepted the requests you had before.”

The Dior gown was originally quite revealing on the chest part. As a royal, you were often required (but not limited) to wear something modest. So when you saw this yellow gown in the choices your stylist, Fran, presented to you, you chose it with the request to put a fine cover-up for that certain part.

“Anyway, we’re going inside for the tour. Are you coming, Your Highness?” she asked.

You paused, looking at her then to Nathalie, who is now beside you, “I’ll catch up.”

Maria smiled and bid her goodbye. You smiled at her before turning to your assistant. Your smile fades as you asked her,

“Are you really not going inside?”

“Yeah, I talked to other celebrity assistants here. Apparently, we can only stay here outside as we were not invited to enter the venue. Only the red carpet.” she explained.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you bit your lip. You just air out your frustration through a small sigh through your nose. Nat smiled, handing you your purse.

“Don’t worry, Ma’am. Your phone’s in it. Taking personal photos was not allowed. But give me a call if you want to go after the dinner event. I’ll have our ride ready and I’ll meet you here at the outside.” she assures you, holding your gloved hand. “But please enjoy the night, Your Highness.”

“Astrid should have been here,” you mumbled, sounding like a kid about to throw a fit.

Nat chuckled with you. She knew your worries. This is the first time someone from your kingdom was invited to Met Gala. You are not only representing yourself but also your country. The pressure feels like you’re in a beauty pageant. 

“You don’t have to stay for too long, okay? Just mingle a little, sip some cocktails, and enjoy their dinner there. Then, you can dial me.” she tried to assure you again.

“Okay, okay.” you sighed. “Thank you so much, Nat.”

You began to walk away as she raised her two thumbs up. An event staff, who you mistook for a model who was just standing in the background,  gave you directions on where to turn and go. He said it was only cocktail hour, and the dinner will be starting later. He encouraged you to look around the exhibition. He also helped you with the trail of your gown so you to move more comfortably.

“Thank you–” you paused, waiting for him to say his name.

“My name is Drew, Your Highness.”

You nod as you gave him a smile, “Thank you, Drew.”

“Oh, Your Royal Highness!”

You turned as you heard someone addressing you in the busy background. There, you see the woman of the hour, Anna walking up to you. She was smiling and sans her fashionable sunglasses, different from what you would usually see in pictures. 

“Anna, thank you so much for the invite." you beamed before shaking hands with her. “Astrid sends her apologies for not being able to make it here tonight.”

“It’s fine. We will always have it next year! Let’s talk about this dress, it’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed while making you turn around for her. “The color suits you magnificently. And the tiara, it’s perfect! Who made it?”

“Oh, it’s from Zafiro. It was made by a local jeweler that the King commissioned.” you proudly replied.

With the image of a certain Disney princess in your stylist’s mind, your father gifted you a gold tiara with bejeweled red roses in it. Jewelry and such are Zafiro’s top products. It’s been your father’s goal to make your country known by producing delicate and elegant pieces of jewelry.

“Maybe we can feature it for our editorials in the future.” She suggested and finally, you. “Anyway, have you gone around the exhibition?”

“Not yet. I just got in here minutes ago.”

“You should look around here, Princess. There are a lot of wonderful works here, you’ll love it. I heard you’re an artist yourself too– Do you want some drinks?” she offered when a server passed by, holding a tray of various drinks.

“Sure. Red wine is fine.” you smiled and they handed you one. You carefully took a sip before continuing your talk with Anna, “I just paint and draw in my free time.”

“That’s what being an artist is, Your Highness.” she chuckled.

You two began to walk to the main exhibit. You were silently grateful to have company. She was graceful in describing and talking about the displayed fashion pieces. But of course, she is Anna Wintour. Other guests were approaching her. She then had to go and mingle with one of her favorite models.

“Please, enjoy. I’ll see you at our table later.” she smiled.

“I will. Thank you.”

And almost immediately when she walked away, you felt alone. You looked around and everyone know everyone. They were laughing and chatting while holding their glasses. Holding tighter to your own glass of wine, you took a long slow deep breath.

Just look around.

The place is amazing and if your sister was here, you would probably enjoy it. Still, you decided to look around.

“Do you think we can smoke in the bathroom?”

Jungkook simply chuckled at Mingyu’s mumbled question as they looked around the displays. Tonight was their first Met Gala. Jungkook was invited through Dior while his bandmate was invited through Balmain. They arrived separately but found each other inside the MET.

“Oh, hey, Jungkook! Mingyu!”

Before Jungkook can even recognize the owner of the voice, Louise was already standing in front of them. She smiled before kissing each of their right cheeks.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” she exclaimed, talking to Jungkook only. “I watched your band’s show last week in Nashville with my best friends. You were so good! We tried to congratulate you backstage but your manager said you’re not accepting guests.”

This time, her hand lands on his chest, feeling the texture of his tux. Mingyu was hiding his teasing grin as he take a sip in his cocktail. Jungkook forced a smile before holding the model’s hand. He played it off to remove her hand away as he replied.

“Yeah, I… was kinda sick.”

Louise's eyebrows raised as she awwed, “Oh, how are you now?”

“I’m good. I got better,” he replied awkwardly.

He side-eyed his best friend for a quick second. It was a simple signal for help as Jungkook felt claustrophobic in this current scenario he is in. Louise is no stranger to him. They have met before and became acquaintances, way too far than she claims in interviews. She slides in his DM whenever she can, which in that case is every week. Jungkook always tries to be polite to her, replying to her relentless greetings. But he always finds a way to excuse himself from her invitations to hang out. He’s just not interested.

Mingyu, who is aware of this, butts in, “You know, I think the dinner will be served soon. We should go to our table.”

“Really? Maybe we should.” Jungkook agrees.

Louise seemed to frown for a second before another celebrity greeted her and got her lost in a conversation. Mingyu took the chance to pull Jungkook away, mixing in the crowd.

“The last time you were sick, we were in Zafiro.” Mingyu scoffed. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes and as if it was fated, his eyes landed on someone in a yellow gown. He cannot see properly due to distance and a bit of dim light. But he can recognize who it was.

“Is… that YN?” he guessed, making his bandmate look in the same direction.

"She’s here?!”

You were chatting with a famous celebrity couple. His heart skips when he sees you laugh. To say that you looked wonderful would be an understatement. You were easily noticeable with the color of your gown that suits you absolutely. He wondered if you had been here earlier or later than him. He didn’t know you were making an appearance. But he’s not that surprised that you’re here as you were known to be a fan of the arts too. 

“Let’s go talk to her–”

“Please go back to your seats, dinner will be served.” a staff interrupted them.

Jungkook sees you being guided as well by someone who you seemed to know. He assisted you with your dress and Jungkook quietly eyes you two until he saw you seating at the same table as Anna Wintour and other major guests. 

“Oh, it’s an honor to meet you!”

One of your favorite musicians is now seating next to you. You cannot stop yourself from smiling as she introduced herself. You didn’t mean to be so excited to shake her hands when she offered it.

“Oh, my. The honor’s all mine! I do know who you are! I am a fan of yours.” you exclaimed. “I know jazz isn’t really your main genre. But I really adore every jazz song you performed. You and Tony Bennett were fantastic together when I watched you perform during your tour years ago ”

“Thank you so much, Princess YN.” Lady Gaga replied.

She was so nice as you express your love for her jazz endeavors. You felt more comfortable, sitting next to her. She even made conversations with you and complimented you with your gown. Your heart was happy. You almost forgot she was a co-host of the event if she didn’t mention it.

“I heard this is your first time visiting New York, Your Highness.” 

Another known designer, who was at the same table as you, brought up. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on you and you felt smaller in your seat. This is strange.

“It is,” you replied with a small smile.

“How are you enjoying it so far?” an actor asked.

“Oh, I haven’t really been anywhere than my hotel room.” you joked. “I just arrived here this morning.”

Then, everyone starts recommending what you should do and where you should visit. They mentioned popular spots and restaurants. They also added some seemingly fun activities. But as much as you like that, you will not be staying for too long in the country for your duty in Zafiro. But instead of telling that, you just replied:

“I will, I will.”

Throughout the whole dinner, Jungkook tried to remain engaged in whatever conversation was happening in their own table circle. He laughed along to their jokes while also stealing glances in your direction. He sees you mingling and laughing at the beginning of the dinner service.

But as the night gets older and almost everybody began standing up from their chairs to dance along to the music being played in the background, you remained in your seat. Jungkook thought of going up to you to invite you to maybe dance, but he saw you kindly declining a couple of people who tried to do the same thing. You just watched them quietly.

“Hey, JK.” Mingyu, who has right beside him, snapped him out of his gaze at you.

Jungkook turned his head around.

His friend continued, “There’s an afterparty hosted by Stell McCartney at Zero Bond. Let’s go. I think everyone’s coming there. It’s gonna be fun.”

“Yeah, sure. We just can’t stay too late. We still have to perform tomorrow.” Jungkook reminds him and Mingyu nods.

And when Jungkook looks back at the same spot you were at, your chair is already empty. One of his eyebrows raised and his eyes traveled around the place. After a quick scan, he spotted your back going in the direction of the main exhibit.

You don’t know why. But sometimes, being a royal makes you feel a bit isolated. It’s not that no one wants to interact with you– actually, a lot of people did. It’s just that you know every move you do will reflect your country and family.  So, you try to be careful in this large, crowded event. So, here you are, in one of the most significant and fabulous events in the fashion world, sitting on the same chair you have been sitting in thirty-five minutes ago.

Three men had already tried to invite you to vibe along with the fun music but you only smiled and gently reject them. You don’t really dance except for formal ones. 

“She doesn’t really talk much, doesn’t she?”

It was a whispered question that you managed to hear from someone not too close to you. Even though they didn’t mention any names, you knew who they were talking about. You felt glances towards you. So you turned, offering a small smile to them. They seemed surprised as their eyes widened before they smiled back, slightly bowed, and walked away. 

Maybe I should just call Nat.

You sighed, agreeing to that idea. But before that, you get up and silently make your way to the main exhibit. To at least look around one last time before you leave this magnificent museum.

It was quieter in this area. A staff bowed at you when your eyes met as you entered the room.

“I apologize, can I still look around here?” you asked them.

“Of course, ma’am. We just don’t expect someone going in here while the party is still going on there,” she said and you simply smiled.

You felt calmer as you take in the intricate designs of the gowns displayed. Even the suits for men were perfect for the theme. Without many people around, you were given more chances to focus on the displays. You simply examine every design that was brought to your younger years. You used to sketch unlimited numbers of clothes and designs when you got your first crayons and sketchpad. It’s nothing compared to these gowns but it showed your colorful imagination back then. You imagine the four-year-old version of yourself jumping up and down while looking at every fashion gown and suit.

“Enjoying the night, Princess?”

“Oh!”

You almost jumped in your gown when you see a certain man when you turned around. Your hand was clutched on your chest as you blinked.

“Jungkook.” your feeble voice murmured, still in shock at his sudden appearance.

“It’s nice to see you again, Princess YN.”

And once again, he held your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. You wondered if he felt how cold it was or how you froze with–again– the unexpected action. Maybe he can hear how loud your heart beats. Or how many butterflies played around in your stomach the moment you felt his lips on your skin. 

Does he really love doing this to everyone he meets?

You don’t want to think you were being treated specially by him through this action, especially since you got no reply after reaching out to him three months earlier. 

“You know for someone who has been attending massive royal events ever since they were little, you seemed pretty flustered tonight.”

Jungkook tried to break the silence. He was scared by your reaction when he looked at you after kissing your hand. You were just staring at him. But after he said that, you gently took away your hand as you straightened up your posture.

“Well, that’s because Zafiro is different from other places like these,” you replied in a joking manner, but you were just being honest.

Then suddenly, silence found its way between you two. It’s not awkward. Nor suffocating. It’s strangely peaceful. There was still this distant sound of the party away but Jungkook found himself in a staring battle against you. And admittedly, he felt conscious when you ran your eyes from his down to his outfit. Then back on his eyes again.

“Is that real?” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“The piercing on your lip.”

“Oh.” Jungkook touched the silver ring on the corner of his lips. “It is. Wanna touch?”

He said it as a joke and he smiled when he saw you finally smile and giggle.

“Thank you for the offer. But I would have to decline that. It looks great on you and so is your suit.” you told him, making him shyly scratch the back of his neck.

“Thank you, I could say the same thing with you. You’re stunning as always.”

As always. That one was embarked in your mind even though you tried to not think much about it. You cleared your throat,

“What are you doing here anyway, Mister? The party is happening inside.”

He slipped his hands in his pants pockets, “I can ask the same thing of you, Your Highness.”

“I’m just taking one last tour around here before I call for my ride.” 

His eyebrows raised, “You’re leaving already?”

“Uh, yes,” you answered, ignoring the question in your head that said: was he sad I’m leaving already?

“You’re not going to any after-parties? I and Mingyu is actually going to one of those. Maybe I can contact you through–”

But you cut him off before you can fully think, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Jeon, considering that you didn’t respond when I reached out to you after we met.”

Lines were automatically between his brows as he heard, “What?! I didn’t receive anything from your communication office in Zafiro.”

“You took that seriously?” you scoffed.

“Of course, I did. I thought you don’t really give your number to anyone outside your family.”

“Well, okay. But I messaged you after we met.” you went on.

“What?!” 

“I DM-ed you.”

“What?”

“With my private account. You immediately read it after I sent it. Wait, let me show you.”

Reaching in your purse, you got your phone. You don’t know why are you even doing this. You tapped on your screen quickly, slightly feeling determined. This seems risky. You went straight to your secret account and opened the one and only message you had there. You showed it to the man in front of you and watched his eyes get bigger as read it.

He was fast to explain himself, “Oh my god, I remembered that one! But I was sick and drowsy in the following days later, maybe that’s why I didn’t respond. I forgot. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

You processed everything in your head. Jungkook stood there, waiting for you to say something when an idea popped into his head.

“How about this?” he began. “Our band will be performing for a night here in New York tomorrow. It’s one of our last performances for our tour.  Are you still here by then?”

“I’ll be flying back to Zafiro tomorrow, before midnight,” you replied almost automatically. Like you were programmed to do so.

“Okay, the concert will be starting at eight. It will probably end by ten. Maybe we can still meet backstage. You know… to hang out.” he pursed his lips by the last sentence.

You squint your eyes at him, “Is this a sorry gift?”

“No, just like what you mentioned in your message,  it’s an invitation. But with a backstage pass.”

Nat eyed you through the moving car’s rearview mirror. You were biting off a smile as you looked down, typing on your phone.

“Any plans to tour around the city tomorrow, Your Highness?”

Your eyes remained glued to your screen as you replied, “Maybe. But free up my last six hours here. I’m going to a concert.”

kindly read my taglist rules before u comment about being added to the list. tysm!

taglist rules

THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST

@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @gxtwllsn @taechvita @snkyuv @canyon-lwt @hiii-priestess @jksgirlhere @razzletaffy @bbtsficrecs @jnk-pop @jjeonjjk7 @tokkiggukie @cuntessaiii @annoyingcolorfox @kooliv

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd​ @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12

[kiestrokes]

✨WIP Game✨

Post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous they are. Let people send you an ask with any title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips.

Tagged by the lovely @seokjinger-ale I am also a slow writer, thanks to the chaos that is my life currently. So uhhh, don't judge the pile too hard. I had emptied out most of my wips, but my personal chaos demon @minttangerines filled it right back up 😘

Geonbae Pt. 2 NSFW part of the Dirty Little Secrets au fuckboy!Park Jimin

Say My Name NSFW fratboy!Song Mingi

Netflix & Kill NSFW croptop!Choi San

Halazia NSFW Bouncy MV au brothers biker bestie!Park Seonghwa x OC!Kang Yeosol

double take NSFW idol!Choi Minho

Rock with you NSFW bf!Choi Seungcheol

muse NSFW reworking idol tbd

MUSCLE MEMORY NSFW fwb!reader x boxer!Jeon Jungkook ft. boxer!Seo Changbin

pink skies SFW boyfriend!Song Mingi x reader x ex!Park Jimin

Blue Summer SFW OT8!ATEEZ

Baby, I'm a shadow of you NSFW ex!Jeon Jungkook & ex BF's bestie! Kim Mingyu

no one like me tbd ace rockstar!Kim Hongjoong

Cyberpunk NSFW bodyguard!Song Mingi

Ditto Pt.2 SFW Kim Seokjin

Domestic Idol NSFW escort service x idol au, there are two wips in this series so far: Son Hyunwoo Bang Chan (RIP my drift partner @chans-room)

Life Finds a Way SFW Jurassic Park crack fic with hybrid Jeon Jungkook OT7!BTS

nostalgia NSFW Lim Jaebeom

 Residual Adoration SFW memxmem: Seo Changbin x Hwang Hyunjin

Accismus NSFW modern royalty, arrange marriage au Kang Yeosang

Fear NSFW Bang Chan

Paradigm tbd carnival au OT8!ATEEZ x OT8!SKZ

Sanguine NSFW little red riding hood au alpha!Yuta Nakamoto x beta!Mark Lee x red!OC

Bisexual!WooSan NSFW bi bestie!Jung Wooyoung x Reader x neighbor!Choi San

Untitled Halloween MinChan NSFW boyfriend!Bang Chan x Reader x dom!Lee Minho

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations. 

[dokries]

requests!

navigation

requests are: closed! (current inbox: 0)

seventeen fics, drabbles, and headcanons/reactions only! drop them in my ask box ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

will write :)

genres: fluff, comfort, and angst.

platonic and/or romantic scenarios!

different pronouns (default is gender neutral but i am willing to change it; please specify in your request otherwise it will be gender neutral !!)

(not confident in writing headcanons but will try <3)

will not write :(

smut/nsfw work. i am a minor, and this is a sfw blog.

member x member fics, omegaverse, first person pov, toxic behaviour, extremely triggering topics.

though i’m afab and identify as female, i’m also not very comfortable writing period fics/scenarios as a personal preference.

i’m sure if you looked, you could find that on other blogs, just not mine :D

other things to note:

i am a student, so sometimes it may take me time to get to a request! please bear with me if that happens <3

i also can turn down requests, though i try my best to do the ones i get :)

previously requested…

midnight popsicles (jeonghan x gender neutral reader)

number one (seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader)

cat’s out of the bag (wonwoo x gender neutral reader)

no need to hide (seungkwan x gender neutral reader)

oblivious (chan (dino) x gender neutral reader)

seventeen when you block their kisses (seventeen x gender neutral reader)

rockstar bf!joshua (jisoo (joshua) x gender neutral reader)

from the start (jeonghan x gender neutral reader)

always (seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader)

forever (soonyoung (hoshi) x gender neutral reader)

that’s rough, buddy (mingyu x gender neutral reader)

10:10pm (soonyoung (hoshi) x gender neutral reader)

sunshine (jeonghan x gender neutral reader)

seventeen when their partner is lovey dovey with them on camera (seventeen x gender neutral reader)

[miraclewoozi]

ACTIVE WIPS —

- HIGH FIDELITY. ( x up-and-coming rockstar vernon. slow-burn s2l. a lesson in getting back on the horse. ~35k. ) - WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR? ( x chan & hansol. vernon selfishly offers to let his roommate fuck you. ~?k. ) - [working title] ( x jihoon. vigilante!woozi, healer!reader. exes to lovers. ~5/6k. )

- CHALET BOY ( x nakamoto yuta. s2l. he's the coldest person you've ever met, but your grandmother once said there wasn't a soul alive your smile couldn't melt. ~25k. )

WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN, a series —

- KNEE SOCKS ( x seungcheol. the two night stand. 7-8k. ) - No. 1 PARTY ANTHEM. ( x jeonghan. strangers at a series of events. ~6-7k. ) - ARABELLA - ( x joshua. the joys of the honeymoon stage. ~3k. ) - MAD SOUNDS ( x jun. angst. love buckles under the strain of those wild nights. ~4/5k. ) - R U MINE? ( x soonyoung. local fuckboy realises he’s kinda down bad. ~5k. ) - WHY’D YOU ONLY CALL ME —? ( x stoner fwb wonwoo. ~8-9k. ) - I WANT IT ALL ( x minghao. ain't it just like you to kiss me and then hit the road? ?k. ) - DO I WANNA KNOW? ( x mingyu. late night confessions of your best friend over the phone. ~4k. ) - I WANNA BE YOURS ( x dokyeom. under the collar part two. secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought, maybe i just wanna be yours. ~6k. ) - ONE FOR THE ROAD? ( x seungkwan. ~5k.) - SNAP OUT OF IT. ( x ex!situationship vernon, starring your new boyfriend!chan. i want to grab both your shoulders and shake you baby. ~25k. )

( please be aware that due to having a full time job, my brain having a minimum of 14 tabs open at any one time and much of my inspiration coming in short but powerful bursts, most of these are being written/updated simultaneously and tiny piece by tiny piece. basically, i have no idea when these will be finished or in what order! but if you're particularly interested in any one/want to find out more....... i love to chat, so come talk to me <3 )

[seuonji]

masterlist !

smau-mlist ๑ wips

彡 legend

story type— hcs★ | imagine☆ | drabble♡ | long fic＊ | smau♪

genres— feel good/fluff+ | angst— | crack=

popular— identified with ‘♥︎’

requests— identified with ‘rq’

svt!

彡 idol!svt x idol!yn au series ot13

idol!svt x idol!yn ☆+=

music bank mc!svt x music bank mc!yn ☆+=

on a variety show ☆+= ♥︎

are they dating? ☆+= ♥︎

rq fans shipping ☆+=

rq going live/on knowing bros ☆+=

texting during work ♪+=

rq bf!svt reacting to being shipped with someone else ☆+=

rq how you two met ☆+=

rq vocal team at your concert ☆♪+

rq reaction to actor!yn dancing ☆+

rq vocal team ; performing a duo ☆+

ot13

rq comforting a reader who’s scared of storms ★+

rq comforting a reader who’s anxious to drive ★+

rq comforting a reader who’s overwhelmed ★+

things they left with you before leaving for tour ★+ ♥︎

uncomfortable shoes ★+

living with you ★+

boyfriend moments ★+

christmas tree ☆+

miss miss miss you! ☆+

bss

roommates ♪+=

hhu

rq students on zoom (platonic) ☆=

brackets indicates word count <3

★95s

seungcheol

in your favour, i’m in your arms. ＊—+ (12k)

your voice. ♡— (0.1k)

just wanted to see you. ♡+ (0.6k)

“pick me up!” ♪+=

when you’re socially exhausted ☆+

after school hours ☆+=

jeonghan

my heart is beating for two. ＊+= one two three (4k in total)♥︎

my hairstylist ♡+ (0.4k)

as long as you’re here, i can endure it. ♡+— (1k)

i love you all the way. ♡+—

my rockstar boyfriend ☆+

when you’re socially exhausted ☆+

after school hours ☆+=

joshua

my days won’t end without you. ♡+

when you’re socially exhausted ☆+

★96s

junhui

-

soonyoung

“pick me up!” ♪+=

after school hours ☆+=

wonwoo

“pick me up!” ♪+=

jihoon

producer!jihoon x producer!yn ☆+

★97s

minghao

lie again ♡—

“pick me up!” ♪+=

after school hours ☆+=

seokmin

the things he’s whispered loudly ♡+ (0.7k)

mingyu

what i want to cherish is our ‘now’. ♡+— (0.7k)

after school hours ☆+=

★99s & 98

seungkwan

-

vernon

a different feeling ＊+= (2k)

mr exterminator. ♡+= (0.3k)

lend me a bit of your touch and see me. ♡+= (0.4k)

chan

my rockstar boyfriend ☆+

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 1

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 3.8k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot. not descriptive sex but there's sex. 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): ​ find other parts here! pt. 2 | pt. 3

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

The pulsating bass reverberated through the arena, sending tremors through the floor and up Hwang Y/N's spine. She stood in the wings, watching as the last chords of "Midnight Reverie" faded away, replaced by the deafening roar of the crowd. Her eyes were fixed on one figure in particular – Kim Mingyu, the lead guitarist of HHT, his tall frame silhouetted against the blinding stage lights.

Sweat glistened on Mingyu's brow as he raised his guitar in triumph, a broad grin spreading across his face. The rest of the band – Seungcheol on lead vocals, Vernon on bass, and Wonwoo on drums– joined him at the front of the stage for their final bow. Y/N felt a flutter in her chest as Mingyu's gaze swept across the wings, landing on her for a brief, electric moment before he turned back to the audience.

As the band made their way offstage, Y/N stepped back, allowing the crew to rush past with equipment. She watched as Mingyu handed off his guitar to a tech, running a hand through his damp, tousled hair. When he spotted her, his eyes lit up with a mischievous glint.

"Enjoy the show?" Mingyu asked, his voice husky from two hours of performing.

Y/N quirked an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "It was alright, I suppose. I've seen better."

Mingyu clutched his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me, Hwang Y/N. And here I thought I'd impressed you with my guitar solo."

"Oh, is that what that noise was?" Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I thought a cat was being strangled."

Their banter was interrupted as Seungcheol approached, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder. "Great show, man. You coming to the afterparty?"

Mingyu's eyes flickered to Y/N before he answered. "Nah, I think I'll sit this one out. Got some... uh, post-show decompressing to do."

Seungcheol followed Mingyu's gaze, a knowing smirk crossing his face when he spotted Y/N. "I see. Well, don't 'decompress' too hard. We've got that radio interview tomorrow afternoon."

As Seungcheol walked away, Mingyu turned back to Y/N, his expression shifting from playful to something more intense. "So, about that decompressing..."

Y/N felt a familiar heat coil in her stomach. She knew exactly what Mingyu was suggesting, and despite her better judgment, she wanted it too. "Your place or mine?" she asked, her voice low.

"Yours," Mingyu replied without hesitation. "It's closer, and I don't think I can wait."

The ride to Y/N's apartment was charged with anticipation. They sat in the back of her chauffeur-driven car, careful to maintain a respectable distance despite the electricity crackling between them. Y/N could feel Mingyu's eyes on her, tracing the curve of her neck, the line of her collarbone exposed by her off-shoulder top.

As they rode in silence, Y/N found herself reflecting on how they'd gotten to this point. She remembered the first time she'd seen Mingyu perform, at a small club showcase before HHT had hit it big. She'd been there on her father's orders, to scout new talent, but she'd found herself captivated by the tall, charismatic guitarist with the killer smile.

Later, at the afterparty, they'd gotten into a heated debate about the merits of classic rock versus modern pop. Y/N had been impressed by Mingyu's passion and knowledge, even as she'd argued against him just for the fun of seeing his eyes light up with indignation. The tension between them had been palpable, and when Mingyu had suggested they continue their "discussion" somewhere more private, Y/N hadn't hesitated.

That night had been the start of their current arrangement. No strings, no expectations, just two people who enjoyed each other's company – in and out of bed. It had seemed perfect at the time. Y/N got the excitement and passion she craved without the complications of a real relationship, and Mingyu got to blow off steam with someone who understood the pressures of the industry.

But lately, Y/N had found herself wanting more. She caught herself daydreaming about quiet nights in, about holding hands in public, about being able to call Mingyu hers. It was dangerous territory, and she knew it. But she couldn't seem to help herself.

The car pulled up to Y/N's building, jerking her out of her reverie. As they made their way up to her penthouse, the air between them grew thick with anticipation. Y/N's hands trembled slightly as she unlocked her door, hyperaware of Mingyu's presence behind her.

As soon as they were inside her penthouse apartment, Mingyu had her pressed against the door, his lips crashing into hers with a hunger that made her knees weak. Y/N responded with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.

"God, I've been thinking about this all night," Mingyu growled against her neck, his hands roaming her body with practiced ease.

Y/N gasped as he found a particularly sensitive spot. "Is that why you kept messing up the bridge in 'Starlight Serenade'?" she teased breathlessly.

Mingyu pulled back, his eyes narrowing playfully. "I did not mess up."

"Oh, you definitely did," Y/N insisted, her hands slipping under his shirt to trace the hard planes of his abs. "But don't worry, your adoring fans probably didn't notice."

With a growl, Mingyu hoisted her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. "I'll show you who's messing up," he threatened playfully, carrying her towards the bedroom.

They fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, hands frantically removing clothing. Y/N reveled in the feeling of Mingyu's skin against hers, the heat of his body igniting a fire within her. His lips trailed down her neck, across her collarbone, leaving a path of tingling sensations in their wake.

"Mingyu," she breathed, arching into him as his hands found all the places that made her see stars.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another searing kiss.

What followed was a symphony of sighs, moans, and whispered names. They moved together with the familiarity of long-time lovers, knowing exactly how to draw out each other's pleasure. Y/N lost herself in the sensations, in the feeling of Mingyu's body moving with hers, in the intensity of his gaze as he watched her come undone beneath him.

When they finally collapsed, spent and satisfied, Y/N felt a contentment that went beyond mere physical release. She curled into Mingyu's side, her head resting on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart as it slowly returned to normal.

"That was..." she trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Mingyu chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Yeah, it was," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

As they lay there, catching their breath, Y/N found herself studying Mingyu's profile. The sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips – every feature was achingly familiar, yet she never tired of looking at him. In moments like these, when the world outside ceased to exist and it was just the two of them, Y/N could almost believe that what they had was more than just a casual arrangement.

Mingyu must have sensed her gaze because he turned to face her, a lazy smile curving his lips. "What's going on in that head of yours, Hwang Y/N?"

Y/N hesitated, weighing her words carefully. She knew the rules of their arrangement, knew that feelings weren't supposed to be part of the equation. But lately, she'd found it harder and harder to stick to those rules. "I was just thinking," she began slowly, "about us."

Mingyu's eyebrows rose slightly. "Oh? And what about us were you thinking?"

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Have you ever wondered if... if maybe we could be more than this?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them, hanging in the air between them like a fragile bubble.

For a moment, Mingyu's expression was unreadable. Then, to Y/N's dismay, he burst out laughing. "More than this? Come on, Y/N, don't tell me you're going soft on me."

Y/N felt her heart sink, but she forced a smile, playing along. "Of course not. I was just joking. Can you imagine us in a real relationship? It'd be a disaster."

Mingyu's laughter subsided, but his eyes remained bright with amusement. "Exactly. We're perfect the way we are. No strings, no complications. Just good times and great sex."

"Right," Y/N agreed, ignoring the twinge in her chest. "Just the way we like it."

Mingyu pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You had me worried for a second there. I thought I was going to have to let you down easy."

Y/N forced a chuckle, burying her face in his chest to hide the hurt in her eyes. "As if. You should know by now, Mingyu, I'm not the relationship type."

As Mingyu's breathing evened out, signaling he had drifted off to sleep, Y/N remained awake, her mind whirling. She thought about the first time they'd met, at one of her father's lavish industry parties. Mingyu had been the cocky new talent, fresh off HHT's debut showcase. Y/N had been the jaded industry princess, used to up-and-coming stars trying to curry favor with the CEO's daughter.

Their initial interaction had been all barbed words and challenging glares, a clash of egos that had somehow morphed into heated kisses in a secluded corner of her father's mansion. From that night on, they'd fallen into an easy pattern of flirtation and secret rendezvous, both adamant that it was nothing more than physical attraction and convenience.

But somewhere along the way, at least for Y/N, things had changed. She found herself looking forward to Mingyu's texts, not just for the promise of a passionate encounter, but for the witty banter and inside jokes they shared. She caught herself smiling at his antics during interviews, feeling a surge of pride when he nailed a particularly difficult guitar riff during performances.

Y/N had tried to ignore these growing feelings, to convince herself that what they had was enough. But nights like these, with Mingyu's arm draped casually over her waist and his steady heartbeat under her ear, made it increasingly difficult to maintain the illusion.

She thought about her reputation in the industry – the party girl, the wild child, the one who was always good for a good time but never for anything serious. It was an image she'd cultivated carefully, partly as a defense mechanism against those who would use her for her connections, and partly as a way to rebel against her father's strict control.

Mingyu fit perfectly into that image. Their arrangement was the epitome of no-strings-attached, exactly what everyone expected of her. But for the first time in her life, Y/N found herself wanting more, wanting something real and lasting.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through her curtains, Y/N made a decision. She couldn't keep doing this, couldn't keep pretending that Mingyu was just a fun distraction. It wasn't fair to either of them.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, Y/N extricated herself from Mingyu's embrace. She padded quietly to her closet, pulling on a silk robe before making her way to the kitchen. As she waited for the coffee maker to finish brewing, she leaned against the counter, trying to gather her thoughts.

She knew what she had to do, but the thought of it made her chest ache. How did you end something that had never officially begun? How did you walk away from someone who had become such an integral part of your life without even realizing it?

The soft ping of the coffee maker pulled Y/N from her reverie. She poured two cups, doctoring Mingyu's with the perfect amount of cream and sugar – when had she memorized how he liked his coffee? – before heading back to the bedroom.

Mingyu was just stirring as she entered, his hair adorably mussed and his eyes still heavy with sleep. "Morning, beautiful," he mumbled, a slow smile spreading across his face as he spotted the coffee in her hands.

Y/N felt her resolve waver at the sight of him, all soft and warm in her bed. But she steeled herself, handing him his cup before perching on the edge of the mattress. "Mingyu, we need to talk."

Mingyu sat up, suddenly alert. "That sounds ominous. What's up?"

Y/N took a deep breath, staring into her coffee cup as if it held the answers she sought. "I think... I think we need to stop this. Whatever this is between us."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Mingyu spoke, his voice carefully neutral. "Where is this coming from, Y/N? I thought we were good."

"We are," Y/N assured him quickly, finally looking up to meet his confused gaze. "That's... that's kind of the problem. We're too good. I'm starting to want things I shouldn't want, things we agreed we wouldn't want."

Understanding dawned in Mingyu's eyes, followed quickly by something that looked suspiciously like panic. "Y/N, come on. We talked about this last night. You said you were joking about the relationship thing."

"I lied," Y/N admitted softly. "I didn't want you to know how I really felt. But I can't keep pretending, Mingyu. It's not fair to either of us."

Mingyu set his coffee aside, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "So, what? You're just going to end things because you're developing feelings? That's bullshit, Y/N, and you know it."

Y/N felt a flare of anger at his dismissive tone. "What would you have me do, Mingyu? Keep sleeping with you while my feelings grow stronger? Watch you flirt with other girls and pretend it doesn't kill me inside? I'm trying to protect myself here."

"Protect yourself?" Mingyu scoffed. "Sounds more like you're running away. I thought you were stronger than that, Y/N."

His words hit her like a physical blow. Y/N stood abruptly, needing to put some distance between them. "You don't get to judge me for this, Mingyu. We had an arrangement, and now I'm ending it. That's my right."

Mingyu threw off the covers, standing to face her. "And what about my rights? Don't I get a say in this?"

"What's there to say?" Y/N challenged, her voice rising despite her best efforts to stay calm. "You made it clear last night that you don't want anything more than what we have. And I can't settle for that anymore."

For a moment, Mingyu looked like he wanted to argue further. But then his expression shuttered, his posture stiffening. "Fine. If that's what you want, consider it done. We're over."

Y/N felt her heart fracture at the finality in his tone, but she forced herself to nod. "Thank you for understanding."

Mingyu began gathering his clothes, dressing with quick, angry movements. Y/N watched him, memorizing every detail – the way his muscles flexed as he pulled on his shirt, the furrow between his brows as he concentrated on tying his shoelaces. She wondered if this would be the last time she saw him like this, rumpled and beautiful in the morning light.

As Mingyu headed for the door, he paused, turning back to face her. For a moment, Y/N thought he might say something, might fight for her, for them. But he just shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and something that looked almost like regret.

"I'll see you around, Y/N," he said finally, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

And then he was gone, the soft click of the door closing behind him echoing in the sudden silence of Y/N's apartment. She stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where he had been, feeling as though she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life.

But it was for the best, she she told herself firmly. Better to end things now, before she fell any deeper. Before the inevitable heartbreak became too much to bear.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N made her way to the bathroom. She had a busy day ahead – meetings to attend, appearances to make. The world wouldn't stop turning just because her heart was breaking.

As she stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the lingering scent of Mingyu's cologne, Y/N made a silent vow. She would move on. She would forget about Kim Mingyu and their stolen moments of happiness. She would go back to being Hwang Y/N, the carefree party girl who didn't need anyone or anything.

But even as she made this promise to herself, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered a traitorous thought: What if Mingyu was right? What if she was running away from the best thing that had ever happened to her?

Y/N shook her head, banishing the thought. It was done. Over. And no matter how much it hurt now, she knew it was the right decision.

Wasn't it?

As she dried off and began her makeup routine, Y/N's phone buzzed with a series of notifications. She ignored them at first, assuming they were the usual morning barrage of emails and social media alerts. But when it kept buzzing insistently, she finally picked it up.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Mingyu's name on the screen. For a moment, hope flared in her chest. Had he changed his mind? Did he want to talk things through?

But as she read through the messages, her hope quickly turned to dismay.

"Y/N, what the hell? You can't just end things like this." "We need to talk. For real this time." "Answer your damn phone."

The last message was followed by three missed call notifications. Y/N's thumb hovered over the call back button, but she hesitated. What good would talking do? She'd made her decision. They both needed a clean break.

With a deep breath, she typed out a response: "I'm sorry, Mingyu. But I meant what I said. It's over. Please don't call again."

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, then promptly blocked his number. It was harsh, she knew, but necessary. If she left any line of communication open, she'd be too tempted to reach out, to take it all back.

As she finished getting ready, Y/N tried to focus on the day ahead. She had a lunch meeting with her father to discuss HHT's upcoming comeback, followed by a charity event in the evening. She chose her outfit carefully – a sleek black pantsuit that screamed 'professional' rather than 'party girl'. Today, she needed all the armor she could get.

The drive to her father's office was mercifully short. As she walked through the lobby of Pledis Entertainment, Y/N held her head high, ignoring the curious glances and whispered conversations that followed in her wake. Let them talk. They always did.

Her father's secretary waved her straight through to his office. CEO Hwang looked up from his computer as she entered, his stern features softening slightly at the sight of his daughter.

"Y/N," he greeted, gesturing for her to take a seat. "You're early. That's a pleasant surprise."

Y/N managed a small smile as she sat across from him. "I aim to keep you on your toes, Dad."

Her father chuckled, but his amusement quickly faded as he studied her face. "Is everything alright? You look... tired."

For a moment, Y/N considered telling him everything. About Mingyu, about her feelings, about the mess she'd made of things. But she knew her father would never understand. In his world, relationships were just another business transaction, a way to gain influence or solidify alliances.

"I'm fine," she lied smoothly. "Just stayed out a bit late last night. You know how it is after a big concert."

Her father's expression tightened slightly, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he launched into a discussion about HHT's upcoming schedules, their new album concept, and the marketing strategy for their next single.

Y/N listened attentively, making notes and offering suggestions where appropriate. But a part of her mind kept drifting back to Mingyu. How would this affect the band? Would things be awkward now at company events? Would she have to avoid their performances altogether?

"Y/N? Are you listening?"

Her father's sharp tone snapped her back to attention. "Sorry, what was that last part?"

CEO Hwang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I said, I want you to take a more active role in HHT's management. You've got a good eye for talent, and you understand their demographic better than some of our older executives."

Y/N felt her stomach drop. "Dad, I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not really-"

"This isn't a request, Y/N," her father cut her off. "It's time you started taking your position in this company seriously. No more parties, no more scandals. I need you focused."

Y/N wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn't ready for that kind of responsibility. But the determined look in her father's eyes told her it would be pointless. Instead, she nodded stiffly. "Understood."

As she left the office an hour later, Y/N felt like the walls were closing in around her. Not only had she lost Mingyu, but now she was being forced into a role she'd never wanted. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost collided with someone as she rounded a corner. "I'm sorry, I wasn't-" she began, then froze as she realized who it was.

Seungcheol stood before her, his usually friendly face twisted with concern and something that looked like anger. "Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble. As she looked into Seungcheol's eyes, she realized that her decision to end things with Mingyu had set off a chain of events that she couldn't control. And this was only the beginning.

[writingmeraki]

unsaid, unkept, ugly emotions.

a seventeen hip hop unit imagines !

IN WHICH, the uglier side of feeling too much getting more messier than it already is for both parties involved.

(or in which for different reasons, it just seems you aren't meant to be.)

pairing : svt!hiphop!unit x gn!reader, friend's crush!seungcheol, best friend's other best friend!wonwoo, rival's friend!mingyu, rockstar! vernon.

genre : angst, no comfort. ( for now )

warnings : mentions of injuries, inaccurate basketball terms, cussing, messy, heartbreak, contemplation, arguments, miserable people, miscommunication, everyone gets hurt, a lot of unspoken feelings, like emphasis on that you may get annoyed. ( not proofread ; we die like hyyh yoonkook )

author's note : i tried so hard to make gyu's messy but i just couldn't ( you'll find out ) these plots are soo random and specific pls but so funnn to write! also me uploading this much is trying to make up for very less updates for the last months of 2023. I missed milestones and I want to make up for those soon too! gahh anyways let me know what you think of these, im actually nervous abt this ngl ( also i just noticed soo much friend drama oof-)

VOCAL UNIT VER. | PERFOMANCE UNIT VER.

word count : 4.1k ( they are getting longer...)

ᯓ★ | seungcheol.

He was off limits.

From the moment you knew your best friend, Haewon, had a crush on him, he was not supposed to ever be in your radar of romantic boundaries as per the rules of being a best friend. 

Seeing her going crazy for a boy like him at first really made you question if there was something wrong with you because you just couldn’t quite see it.

Sure he was literally the definition of tall, blonde and gorgeous. Sure he had adorable dimples that made him look less intimidating than you thought he initially was. Sure he was also the frat president as well as the captain of the soccer team making you wonder how he was able to still balance getting great grades.

Well. There was a slight possibility you could see what others saw. 

Maybe even more when the time you tried to play wingman for Haewon at a party where you lost her because apparently she was looking for him but said guy turned up right beside you as you were contemplating on what would least likely not kill your liver if you had it resulting in having conversations about cherries ( you don’t even know ) and him trying to convince (gaslight) you into soccer being one of the greatest games of all time. 

You didn’t get convinced but for the time it felt right to agree to what he said if it meant those adorable dimples would show up when you did. 

You were so screwed. 

Another thing Choi Seungcheol had was a great memory, because he seemed to remember you when he saw you walking down the hallway with Haewon as he smiled so widely at you in greeting. 

“Haha yeah hey! um…This is Haewon by the way! Haewon, Seungcheol.” You had to nudge her to snap out of her daze and she extended her hand in greeting as he politely shook her hand. 

“That reminds me, I forgot to ask you last night but uh can I have your-”

“Oh would you look at that! We’re getting late for class! I’m so sorry Seungcheol, we’ll have to leave!” 

That moment you think you were so going to hell when you saw how quickly his smile fell and how his sparkly eyes dimmed down because it felt like you committed a sin then and there. You think you saved yourself from committing a sin but it didn’t feel less dreadful as you grabbed her hand and rushed as quickly as you could.

In the opposite direction of where your class was.

“WHAT WAS THAT-”

“Listen- when you were looking for him last night- I swear I don’t know how but he was right where I ended up sitting and he-well, we talked I suppose-?”

Her eyes widened at your words and you raised your hands in surrender, 

“I promise I didn’t even know when he showed up, I tried to message you and even find you but you seemed gone until the moment we were leaving.”

“Plus the reason I didn’t tell you last night was I was tired! I was here trying to play wingman while the person in love was seemingly gone-”

She sighed and nodded at you, “You don’t have to explain, I know he’s not your type, you made that clear a lot of times actually it’s kinda hilarious.” She giggled as she recalled the countless times you chastised her for daydreaming about him. But now, you couldn’t stop the stupid tinge of bitterness in your heart.

Right. Not my type. 

Suddenly her eyes widened as an idea struck her, “That’s it! He was gonna ask for your number right? You can try and set me up then!”

“I well- I don’t know-”

“Please! You know how I have been trying to get to know him even.”

You didn’t want to say it then but you thought about how trying meant actually doing something rather than just gazing from afar. At least become friends with him was the words you told her countless times but she paid no heed, retorting how it was not that easy.

But it was easy because what’s the worst that could happen? Him having a partner? So it wasn’t the end of the world, others existed! 

Too bad you were easy to persuade, questionably easy because all it took were her doe eyes pleading at you to agree.

“Fine- I’ll try- but no promises.”

As she hugged you and squealed words of gratefulness to you, you couldn’t quite put a finger on it then but, 

You didn’t understand why it felt a part of you couldn’t seem to share the same happiness, conceivably a lingering dread there that knew something was surely going to go wrong.

✮⋆˙ | wonwoo.

Everytime Jeon Wonwoo had the ever so unfortunate ( according to him ) time to exist in the same room as you, it seemed like an impending doom for him. 

His heart felt weird, his stomach dropped, his throat parched.

He hated it. 

He was an individual who knew what they wanted in life. Never unsure nor second guessing, always able to classify their emotions in proper ways. Systematic is the right word. Able to know what exactly he wants to do in his career, how to behave with his friends, when to be serious and when to have ‘fun’. 

So what happens when you completely throw him off the rocks with your mere existence?

He hates you. That’s how he tags the emotions he feels when he sees you and what does hatred sprout? Indifference. 

Too many questions asked but it’s what Wonwoo declares. 

Though, he thinks the first mistake is to think he’d be able to avoid you considering the fact that you were his best friend/roommate’s good friend. Meaning you spent around twenty to twenty two hours at their place (Yes he counted) and he absolutely hated it.

He hated how your giggles would ring out in the entire apartment when Mingyu said a half-assed joke, it literally made his chest feel uneasy. He hated how your eyes would always twinkle when you would be talking to Mingyu, it made his stomach drop and sigh in disbelief. 

Was Mingyu that oblivious to how much you liked him?

Now this was a question that made Wonwoo almost throw up. Odd.

“You know if you don’t make a move, he won’t even know right? I know you think he’s one of the smartest but in the romance field, I think even fucking Jihoon beats him at that.” 

Or perhaps Wonwoo was just very oblivious to how much you liked him. 

You shook your head at Mingyu’s words as you both walked up to his apartment, the butterflies in your stomach already churning at the thought that Wonwoo was likely home. 

“And also it’s getting concerning how much time you spend in my apartment for the sake of him, like at this point just move in you creep—HEY!Ow!— that hurt you ass!”

“It’s not that easy,Gyu,he’s – he’s Wonwoo for God’s sake!”

“That’s exactly why it’s easy! It’s Wonwoo! Be direct with him. I’ve known him for years and trust me, he won’t know until you spit it out to him!”

Maybe…maybe he was right. Afterall he had been friends with Wonwoo before even knowing you.

“What if he doesn’t even feel the same–”

“Be serious. He literally looks like a lovesick fool when you’re over–”

“Maybe he’s just sick of me coming over.”

Mingyu stopped walking and you didn’t even realize until you were a few steps ahead. Pausing when you finally saw he wasn’t beside you.

His expression was like he was close to ripping out his hair from frustration while also being flabbergasted. It was kinda hilarious and you had to gulp to prevent laughing because you were sure he might just kill you.

“Okay! Okay, fine– I'll listen to you– maybe not confess today! But I'll ask if we can hangout or something,happy?”

“Very.” 

You rolled your eyes at his words as you both began climbing up the stairs, telling him to shush with his teasing as the tips of your ears began to feel warm and the blood rushed to your cheeks with every scenario you imagined.

Maybe if you thought that the upcoming scenario would ever occur. it would have hurt less. 

As you waited for Mingyu to pull out his keys, you could feel your nerves igniting through your skin and your stomach churning. But before Mingyu could insert the key, the door opened.

You wouldn’t have questioned anything, if it weren’t for the obvious messy hair, hickey marks trailing down her exposed neck and of course, the star of your daydreams right behind her, standing with a surprised face.

It was obvious what had occurred, the confirmation lying in the bruises on his neck. 

“Woah–uh.” Mingyu stuttered awkwardly, and you could feel his sympathy as he glanced at you. You couldn’t think of anything else other than how…right you were and how wrong Mingyu was.

You didn’t know who she was but it wasn’t her fault. Or anyone’s. Maybe yours. So as a weird tension simmered through the air, you looked away from them and just turned to Mingyu. 

And for the first time in his life probably, he was lost. Jeon Wonwoo was lost because why did he just feel like he committed a crime when he wasn’t even yours anyways?

He hated the way you looked away, not missing the hurt that flashed across your eyes as you realized what he probably was doing. 

You didn’t even notice she’d already left, smiling at Wonwoo and signing him to call her back, again. Probably not the first time, you thought.

“Uh-Gyu- I’ll go now, It’s getting late for me anyways,”

You really tried to stop your voice from cracking, the lump in your throat making you want to choke and die then and there. So you just looked at Mingyu, purposefully ignoring the way he looked at you in sympathy. 

His stare seemed to burn into your side profile. The words on the tip of his tongue, but what? It all felt like a lot but nothing at the same time. Wonwoo didn’t know what to say. 

Nodding goodbye to Mingyu and glancing at Wonwoo, offering a tight lipped smile as you waved, and then without saying anything you turned around. 

Mingyu frowned. His best friend couldn’t own up to his feelings for you and just when you were about to take a step forward, he somehow ended up fucking it up completely. 

What a mess. 

“Come on, we need to talk.”

Mingyu said seriously, putting an arm over Wonwoo’s shoulders, albeit a little forcefully which caused the other boy to almost stumble over. 

It seemed it was now up to him now to sort out this mess and hopefully it doesn’t get worse from here.

✩₊˚. | mingyu.

Being the new captain of the basketball team had its perks. Sure, you now officially got tagged as a ‘jock’, a title in itself that held its own benefits, probably more than just when you were another player in the team. 

But its disadvantages seemed more at the moment when you found yourself under the angered gaze of none other than Yoon Jiwoo. Another player of the basketball team. Shooting guard was the position.

By all means, it wasn’t your fault she was not captain, it was her own actions that did not get her the position. And plus, it wasn’t like it was bad not being a captain, Yeri was a small forward, yet probably the best one at it. So it was at the end of the day, nothing to you but just more responsibilities with the title. 

Plus, it was also voted by the rest of the players that you deserved to be captain this time when it was time to appoint a new captain. Jiwoo had been a captain before Lisa became that year, but she left and so there had to be a new choice made. 

With Jiwoo’s unfair hatred towards you, also came a similar animosity from her group of friends. Well you think Jiwoo wants them to share the same feelings as she does but you doubt they care enough, usually neutral towards you or sympathetic even as they tried to reason her animosity being useless.

They were five or six if you could remember correctly from the times they’d drop her to practice or come to pick her up sometimes. Apparently one of them was her cousin Yoon Jeonghan and you could surely see the similarities in them from the way unrealistically attractive they both looked. 

But the one that stuck out most to you was Kim Mingyu. Her best friend. And the one who supposedly hated you the most, after her that is.

Then why did he feel anything but hate? He couldn’t stop looking at you during your practice when he stuck around to wait for Jiwoo, as if in a trance as his gaze remained on you.

He couldn’t stop the way his heart sped up when you grinned so widely as you scored, tackling your teammate in a hug. Why was he suddenly envious of the people who got to experience your joy? 

In his defense, he liked you way before you were even captain. It was probably since the day he first saw you try for the teams and he thinks it was fate that he got to stumble onto you that one sunny afternoon. 

You were nervous for your trials and he was nervous from the way your hair prettily rested on your cheeks and made you almost glow in the sun. Yeah, he was convinced it was love at first sight.

Though he feels liking his best friend’s rival was…confusing. He didn’t know if he could take a side or if he should even question taking a side. 

“You pushed them on purpose Jiwoo!” Yeri yelled at her as she held you upright. You couldn’t even make out some of the words as you focused on the pain shooting up your ankle from the way it twisted. 

“We all saw it, stop acting like you did nothing!”

“Exactly, you have this weird hate boner for them since you couldn’t get your stupid captain title!” 

You were sure the first voice was Chaewon while the other was Yeri.

“Why are you all ganging up on me? It wasn’t on purpose! Ask-ask someone else as well!” Her voice got louder and louder as she finished her sentence. She didn’t expect people to take your side. Although her plan was just a little shove to keep you off balance as she got the ball in her hand, she did not expect you to twist your ankle completely. 

“It’s fine- just- just leave it. It was a mistake, I just-” Your words were cut off as you hissed out in pain again as you attempted to get up, only to tumble down again, luckily held up by Yeri and Chaewon.

They sat you down on the bench as they huddled around you in a panic. You pulled off your shoes, scrunching your nose from the smell but the pain quickly took your focus from that.

 “Hey! What’s going on?” You heard someone say as they entered, their voice familiar to you. Mingyu had come to pick up Jiwoo as usual, not knowing she left sneakily when they were focused on you, when he saw everyone huddled together, confused when he couldn’t see you amongst the first few he saw. 

He didn’t need to peek over due to his well…giant form, but he saw you sat down in the middle as he got closer, caressing your leg. His eyes widened when he saw your ankle swollen up and an angry red shade that was definitely not natural.

“Shit that looks bad.” You looked up and you swore you thought you were hallucinating. Because no way was Kim Mingyu out of everyone looking at you with nothing but worry and concern. He still looked…good. As always. Per usual. You think you got distracted from your pain for just a minute as you stared at him for a few seconds, him seemingly not noticing as he kept his eyes on your ankle.

“Blame your girlfriend.” Yeri scowled as she spitefully retorted, as Chaewon dug her elbow into her side to which she yelped and glared at her. 

“Girlfriend?” He turned his attention towards her, resembling a confused puppy as he raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yeri.” You spoke up firmly before she could say anything, looking at her with a look that told her to keep her mouth shut,not wanting to make this a bigger scene than it already was. She sighed and rolled her eyes, ultimately not saying anything.

You moved your leg around for a bit, deciding you should give it a go again to stand up, and drag yourself to the infirmary. And when you did stand up, it seemed you really overestimated yourself or perhaps underestimated your injury because next thing you knew you lost balance again.

But lucky for you, instead of landing right on the wooden floors and having a blistered lip, you landed right on Kim Mingyu. It only occurred to you now just how much taller than you he was when his whole form almost engulfed you.

“Woah. Take it easy, you’ll get hurt more.” He had wrapped one hand on your waist while the other held your arm. You think his touch burnt you more than anything because you felt yourself begin to warm up. 

“How about I take you to the infirmary? Sorry I didn’t say it sooner, I was just confused on what Yeri said and-”

“It’s-uh-it’s fine- I’ll go by myself-”

“Are you crazy?! You can’t even stand!”

You blinked, taken aback by his words, even more so with just how concerned he seemed,his eyes glistening with it. 

Kim Mingyu was someone you thought you knew but apparently you did not because a few minutes later, you found yourself being piggy-backed by him to the infirmary as he was scolding you about taking better care of yourself. 

You tried to reason that Yeri and Chaewon would take you but they both were adamant on Mingyu taking you, while they would go and look for a certain someone ( You prayed they would not be kicked out of the team).

His grip on your thighs, his shampoo that you could smell, his shoulders that were just so…so broad you couldn’t even fully wrap your arms around them…just him felt so overwhelming. Your pain was long forgotten as you tried not to freak out over how you were currently feeling over him.

But with the way he seemed, the way he acted, was it wrong to assume that perhaps, there was a possibility these feelings weren’t so one-sided?

Well, only one way to find out. 

₊˚⊹⋆ | vernon.

They say people shine their best when they are in their element doing what they love. But to you, Chwe Vernon shone even in the dimmest lights as he sat down in front of you.

It was just a few minutes before their gig. Him and his friends ; Jungkook, Mingyu and Eunwoo from what you remember, were all a part of an upcoming rock band. They were actually gaining more fame as time passed and you were proud to be one of the few who witnessed their growth from the beginning. 

They began from your small bar right in the downtown area where you worked as a bartender, you remembered their first performance, you were told it was their first gig actually. Now they are close to being signed up by a company, still wanting to perform one last time at the place where it all began. 

To you, he was the boy you’d always admire from afar, knowing there was no actual probability of him seeing you in that light. Even now, considering their gaining fame, you’d see the type of people that would swoon over him, even a few celebrities and models you remember. 

He was…a star. Far away and admirable but never in your reach. And stars are better to admire than seek anyways.

Though, it seemed your star wasn’t that far away from you as you thought. In fact he was much closer to you than you could even comprehend. 

In other words, Chwe Vernon was head over heels from you. Since the first time he performed and spotted you when you were busy serving drinks, since the time you told him how great they performed as he sat down in front of you while you talked about what interested you, your eyes gleaming under the dim bar light. And he thinks it was very much obvious what felt when he saw your wide grin, dimples poking out as you finally served him his drink. 

Whisky wasn’t something he liked, but you had recommended a certain combination with it and he thinks nothing else tasted sweeter that day. 

Sadly everyone around you but you saw that. Too focused on how you weren’t ever going to be a possibility because you thought he was just unattainable instead of thinking of the probability of just how much he may have liked you. 

“Nervous?” You smiled at him as you finished setting up the remaining glasses for the night, ready to serve knowing it would be a very busier night than usual due to them performing. 

Yes, yes he was nervous but not because of performing but because he was about to confess. 

“Haha- yeah- no! I mean uhm no- we’re- we’ll be fine.” He wanted to cuss at himself for stuttering, probably looking foolish, but he thought it was fine when he heard your giggle as you shook your head. 

“Oh you are. You’re already the best and I assume and hope it’ll only get better from now on.”

With you. It would get better with you because anything feels better with you. 

He wishes he could say it out loud, but maybe soon enough. That is if you don’t reject him. Yeah he doesn’t know what he’ll do if you do. Throw up probably. Or die. Dying seems good actually, he thinks. 

“Vernon? Here.” He snapped out of his thoughts as he blinked, looking down at the drink in front of him, confused because he didn’t order anything.

“On the house, from me. It’s my favorite drink actually. I-uh hope you like it.” He thinks even if you served him garbage he’d still be delighted, extreme but meh it was close to how he fell for you. Extreme and down bad.

“Oh then I’ll love it for sure.” Because I love you. 

Your grin grew wider as you were about to say something, you heard your name being called by your co-worker.

“Oh- I’m sorry I have to go now! I’ll be here when you perform for sure! Good luck!” 

“It’s okay, you’ll be here afterward.” 

You looked at him apologetically as he shook his head, knowing you were just doing your job and nodding to you to go, to which you waved goodbye at him. 

Perhaps you really underestimated your own words because apparently you couldn’t make it there. You were called by your mother who had gotten sick at home and needed someone to take care of her. 

You thought about whether you should inform Vernon but figured it wouldn’t be too much of a big deal, telling your co-worker to let him know in case he asked afterwards but you doubt he would, probably exhausted after the long night. You forgot your co-worker was switching shifts mid-way with another one, one who would obviously not know your whereabouts. 

And now as he got ready to sing the song he’d written for you, for you with very obvious lyrics about you, the moments with you, he searched for you but…you were nowhere. 

You weren’t there. 

Did you find out? Did you know? Did you think it was too much? 

All the questions arose in his mind as he shut his eyes and breathed in to calm himself. He couldn’t lose his cool on stage when there were so many fans waiting for him to perform.

He looked at his bandmates, and shook his head, not wanting to look at them again as they looked at him sympathetically.

“That’s it for tonight! We hope you continue supporting us in the future! Have a goodnight Seoul!” 

He said and this time as he felt anything but content, his heart heavier than ever and mind in a haze. 

Maybe in this lifetime, you’d both remain two separate stars. Far and never-crossing. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !

[networkluvs]

my melody | kim mingyu (masterlist)

☆.*+ seventeen social media au

★ synopsis: in which you become the muse of the overly cocky rising rockstar on campus, kim mingyu.

★ genre: slice of life!au, college!au, band!au, strangers to lovers, comedy, angst, fluff

★ pairings: mingyu x gender neutral reader (uses girlfriend however)

★ start: may 1st. 2021       ★ end: june 5th. 2021

☆.*+ profiles

★ profiles 1

★ profiles 2

☆.*+ chapters

★ prologue

★ one. home

★ two. bleh

★ three. unexpected

★ four. for love

★ five. left on read

★ six. red flag

★ seven. soup

★ eight. studio

★ nine. we aren’t serious

★ ten. im so sorry

★ eleven. success

★ twelve. my muse

★ thirteen. i met you

★ fourteen. unlucky

★ fifteen. wiggies

★ sixteen. confession

★ seventeen. pathetic

★ eighteen. good side

★ nineteen. wanna kiss?

★ twenty. groupies

★ twenty one. help you heal

★ twenty two. the hardest part

★ twenty three. i lied

★ twenty four. i have an idea

★ twenty five. can we talk?

★ twenty six. ponyo

★ twenty seven. something big

★ twenty eight. like the beginning

★ twenty nine. crazy in love

★ thirty. again

★ thirty one. happy happy happy

★ thirty two. i just wanna be your dog

★ thirty three. brightest moon

★ thirty four. happy ending

★ bonus! - closed

[yuzukult]

✓ = series completed ★ = personal favorites ☽ = older works

please note that some of my works are for mature audiences only. any fics stating [smut] in the genre are for adults only, ages 18+. do not interact with any of my nsfw works if you are not 18+.

works without [smut] are safe for underage readers.

my reader inserts are all females.

svt

—yoon jeonghan

cigarettes & coffee (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 3.4k

it’s either those cancer sticks or you.

drabbles ▸ that red velvet box | [angst] | 1.9k

—jeon wonwoo

crush (m) | [fluff, angst, smut] | ongoing series

all he knows are fast rides, drag-strips, and speed ovals until he meets you, someone that’s got his heart racing instead of his car.

drabbles ▸ yours. | [angst] | 1.2k

—choi seungcheol

yours, but not yours (m) | [fluff, angst, smut] | ongoing series

when a nice guy gets too overbearing, you’re stuck with the option of having a fake boyfriend.

strawberry cheesecake | [angst, fluff] | 5.3k

when you fall for a pretty boy at an ice cream parlor.

—kim mingyu

i can’t run away (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 15.7k

everyone expresses love in different ways. that doesn’t exclude you.

we don’t usually hold hands (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 16.8k

when a friend brings up the potential feelings of a fuck buddy, you’re left wondering what to do when you confirm it’s true.

drabbles ▸ bittersweet. (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 3.1k ▸ twenty-five (m) | [fluff, smut] | 3.5k

bts

—jeon jungkook

from home (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 89.5k ›› mini-masterlist ✓

a rich kid who gets cut off from family money meets an average post-grad girl who may be the key to getting him back on his parents’ good side.

★ after midnight (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 39.2k ›› mini-masterlist ✓

jeon jungkook only likes seeing you after midnight.

★ dissonance (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 19.4k

what’s the point of being a successful rockstar when you have nobody to share your accomplishments with?

drabbles ▸ fashion student!reader x jungkook | [fluff] | 975

—park jimin

★ hello (안녕) (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 16.5k

you thought jimin was ‘the one’ until he decided to leave a year ago. but now that he’s back and wants a second chance, you’re a bit hesitant.

driver’s license | [angst, fluff] | 3.8k

park jimin is your brother’s best friend that you’ve been crushing on since… forever.

detours (m) — cont. of drivers license | [angst, fluff, smut] | 13.8k

in drivers license, you think park jimin is out of reach. in detours, jimin feels like he can’t reach you.

—min yoongi

★ no more (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 29.7k ›› chapters: 01 | 02 ✓

yoongi doesn’t like your consistent pining, and one day, you give up. yet, yoongi can’t come to terms with the consequences of when he says ‘no more.’

—kim taehyung

no blueberries (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 12.3k

no more!taehyung gets his heartbroken to the point he doesn’t even love his favorite fruit, blueberries, anymore. then he meets you, the complete opposite of the girl of his dreams, and suddenly, blueberries taste sweet again.

drabbles ▸ ★ grapefruits & cranberries | [angst-ish] | 1.0k

nct

—jeong jaehyun

drabbles ▸ try again, | [angst] | 2.1k

—kim doyoung

★ i’m bad too (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | ongoing›› mini-masterlist

kim doyoung is such a good boy. no matter how hard he tries, he’ll always be one.

—lee jeno

drabbles ▸ the last ride | [angst, fluff] | 799

—nakamoto yuta

glossed over (m) | [angst, fluff, smut] | 18.2k

times in your life where you thought nakamoto yuta was just your best friend’s older brother, a guy you had a little childish crush on. but little did you know, there was more than what meets the eye.

Copyright © 2020, gyukult on tumblr. NO reposts allowed.

[sichengtual]

— summary: wanting to make his big break as a song-writer, jun gets assigned to work with a band that has every intent on making it big. but it’s the 70’s, and just as he’s about to discover, love and rock&roll go hand in hand.

— pairing: wen junhui x reader.

— au: 70’s, song-writer!jun, rockstar!reader. 

— genre: fluff. 

— word count: 15, 273 (15.2k)

— playlist: somebody to love — queen ;  your song — elton john ; where you lead — carole king ;  tiny dancer — elton john. 

— warnings: alcohol consumption, some cursing, josh saying groovy every time he speaks.

— a/n: a part of me really wishes i was living in the 70′s and i think it shows here lol also, the moonwalker is inspired on the troubadour and the song jun writes is tiny dancer because it carried me the entire way, what an mvp. 

this one’s for @chocosvt​ ! i really hope you like it <3

Jun is nervous. 

The tapping of his feet against the cold, faux tiled floor produces no audible sound over the music coming from the speakers, but it’s still noticeable to him. He tries to keep a steady pace, even counting along to the beat as he plays the same words over and over inside his head. It’s his own voice speaking back at him, words a mere reminder, and, if he were to be completely honest, part of the reason behind his nerves.

He had promised you, on the very first day he met you, that he’d help you shine. That he’d make you succeed. Part a rush of the moment, part wanting to impress his boss and part a reassurance for himself, his promise had been easy to make. Then. And it’s not that he doubts himself, or you, but, at the end of the day, he’s a 24 year old making his debut in the music industry. And it’s hard, of course, because even when he’s not the one performing, it’s still his words that are being sung. 

Doing what he does is harder than people usually think. Jun’s lyrics are heart-felt, authentic, with his entire soul poured on the paper and ready to be dissected by whoever got to listen to the songs he wrote. He surrenders it to the artist, basically giving up any kind and sort of hold he has over the feelings he’s just reflected, giving them away for someone else to interpret them the way they want. The way they can. And as difficult as it is sometimes, it’s part of the job, and all that he can hope for is for them to be interpreted in the most authentic way possible. It’s hard, definitely, but after years and years of trying, he knows that having them expressed are way better than keeping them in.

Following the loud bang of a drum, he looks around as he keeps the pace with his foot. The entire room smells like entrapped smoke, and warm coffee, and it looks somewhat like it too. There’s a thick, almost translucent layer of fog-like smoke hanging on the air, slowly rising to the ceiling as minutes keep passing. There’s also a big arrangement of paper cups, both full and empty, resting on all possible surfaces around him, almost reflecting the passing of time in their placement; 8 in the morning on the desks, 2 in the evening on the equipment luggage, and a few hours past midnight on some parts of the floor. 

The practice room is a dimly-lit space, with a few round, orange and yellow glass lamps hanging on the ceiling and set a few meters apart, barely even enough to illuminate the entire room. In the evening, the last few rays of sunshine manage to break through the high set windows, reflecting on the tinged glass and breaking upon the dark purple walls in bright, warm shades of orange. 

He hasn’t been there a lot, only a few days since he had arrived for the first stop of the tour, but as he sets his eyes on it, he can’t help but think it almost resembles a sunset. He can see the colors, the exact same ones that paint over the sky just as the night is about to fall down, and it serves to help him ease a little bit. Sunsets, even the ones reflected upon the walls of a world tour practice room, are the same all around. 

“Why are you still getting it wrong? It’s all about the groove, man,” Josh whines. He’s sitting on a small wooden stool, his guitar propped up on his knee. 

“I don’t know, Josh, I’m the one that wrote this riff and for some reason I just can’t play it correctly again!”

“Beginner’s luck,” Chan comments, not really involved in the argument, but never one to pass the opportunity to strike a joke. He looks down to tune down his guitar once Mingyu turns to give him a stare. 

“That doesn’t make sense, I’ve been doing this for years.”

“Well, it certainly doesn't seem like it! Just try to make it groovy!”

He’s still getting used to the band. 

They’re a nice group of people; kind, loud and boisterous, but that’s just every band he knows. Having worked in the label for years, he’s used to seeing bands come and go, submitting his songs with no much more room for interaction left other than a Jun, they liked it! coming from his boss on the good days (the bad days are different, a little less remarkable, but they’re the ones he tries not to think about). This, his first time on the road with one of them, is a completely new experience, and if it wasn’t for finally seeing his dream beginning to get on track, it’d be one that would probably have him shaking in fear. 

But they’re warm, laid-back and easy to talk to, which he appreciates, knowing he’s not the best at initiating conversations... or maintaining them. He had felt intimidated at first, looking into a group of rising rock stars from the outlook of someone who’s just as into their world as he’s out of it, standing somewhere between the line that divides the outside and the inside. But he’s entering, just walking in and slowly stepping his toes on the water; and he’s doing it by the side of people he’s glad he can finally get to call his friends. 

“Jun, could you possibly tell Mingyu he’s been playing the wrong note the entire time?” 

“Yeah Josh, I already know I’ve been playing it wrong.” 

“Please stop fighting so we can practice!” Soonyoung says from his spot on the drums, backed up with a nod from Vernon, the bassist looking surprisingly bored at the altercation.

“Can you tell him to play the right note this time? And remember, make it groovy!”

He hadn’t heard the door opening, but you’re walking in the room just he finally tears his gaze from Josh’s bright red guitar. You turn to give him a smile, one he quickly returns, before turning back to the two bickering guitarists. He turns to look at the set playlist, with his name carefully penned down below all fifteen songs, and he tells himself that, despite his nerves, he might just be perfectly ready for the tour to start. 

“Are you okay? You looked a little distracted today.” 

The diner is quiet. 

There’s really not much movement, with only another customer besides him inside the small establishment. He can focus on the clinging of his spoon as he moves it around in his cup, light, creamy bellows of steam rising as the aftermath of the ripples he creates on the dark liquid. The coffee really isn’t great, tasting a bit tangy against his tongue, even after he had added a small packet of sugar to try and ease the bitterness of the beverage. If he focuses enough, he can even make out a light buzz coming from the neon lights advertising the diner in the street, sound low but crisp against the pouring rain. 

It’s cold, and a part of him really regrets coming to the diner straight out of practice without going to his room first. He had just needed to write, and to do that, he needed silence. He runs a hand up and down his left arm, the coolness from his rings perceivable even through the thick wool of his shirt. 

He looks up, the ripples inside his cup long forgotten. 

You’re standing in front of him, looking just as tired as he feels, with a completely different stance than the one you usually show inside the practice room. Or on the stage. It’s relaxed, at ease, a little shy, even, and he can’t help but wonder if, behind the whole rockstar facade, maybe the two of you aren’t really that different. 

You take a seat in the chair in front of him, the laminated red seat squeaking as response to the movement. 

“Huh?” He lets out.

“At practice,” you move, trying to get comfortable in the cold, plastic chair. “You looked a little distracted. Everything okay?”

Jun shrugs, smiling softly. “It’s just nerves, I think.”

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Jun smile, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile like that. And, in complete honesty, it was the first time it had been completely directed at you. He had always been a little quiet, ever since he was first introduced as the “new song-writer” by the label director, and, because of the chaos that naturally ensued whenever surrounded by the entire band, your interactions with Jun had been few and far-between. 

Here’s what you’ve managed to learn about him in the months you’ve known him: he likes to be alone when he writes, but he can also do it when sitting as far away from the speakers as possible. He likes drinking his coffee with both sugar and cream, and even if he doesn’t drink too much of it, he always finds a way to spill even a little bit, be it on his shirt or somewhere near his notebook (which has been the cause of many scares inside the practice room). He keeps a pen in his shirt pocket at all times, whether it be for writing down an incoming idea wherever he found or for clicking the seconds away whenever he got nervous. 

And he’s surprisingly shy about his lyrics, even when he sounds completely confident in them. You can tell, whenever you’re given them to sing them, that they are words he’s proud of; words that came from his heart as bits and pieces of the most beautiful poetry you’ve ever read. And they’re always accompanied by a small, shy smile and the slight reddening of his cheeks. 

“I know what you mean,” you say. You call the waiter just as Jun takes a sip from his coffee, not missing the slight purse of his lips as he swallows down the warm beverage. “I’m nervous too.”

“You don’t seem to be,” he comments. He looks back down at his coffee, hand still making circles with the spoon. “Whenever you sing, it’s like you’re completely used to it. It feels as if it were something you’ve always done, something you know like the back of your hand. And still… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like you’re thrilled by it, even more so every day.” 

Jun looks up at you, hiding his words behind a smile. You don’t notice, too busy ordering a cup of chamomile tea to make anything of the way he’s staring at you from the other side of the table. 

“It’s amazing what putting on a brave face can do, then,” you answer. “I love being on stage. It’s just nerve wracking to think about it when I’m not there. It’s like Mingyu not being able to get his own riff right unless he’s playing in front of a live crowd.” 

“Oh, please don’t remind me of the riff incident. Joshua’s voice hasn’t left my head the entire day.” 

Rain continues falling. You can hear some melody coming from the speakers, which, even when it feels completely unfamiliar, makes Jun’s sway to the side as he rests his head on his hand. Maybe he knows it. 

“I hope it’s not a bad sign,” Jun mentions, pointing to the window with his thumb. “Starting the tour with a little bit of rain.”

“Seungkwan was talking about that earlier, too,” you say, thinking back of the keyboardist’s words from before you left the practice room. “But you know, if anything, I think it might be a good sign.” 

Jun purses his lips, head moving to the side. His fingers move across the table, fiddling with the empty sugar packet he had used. The bright pink paper shines bright against his hands, fluorescent yellow light reflecting from outside. It captures his eyes, and yours, and for a brief second, the both of you are stuck on watching how the packet’s shadow grows whenever Jun moves it around his fingers. It reminds you of him with the pen, a mere distraction. Or maybe just a way for him to set his ideas in order. 

You can tell he’s still a bit hesitant about the interaction, not knowing if they’re nerves at talking about the tour or just nerves at talking to you. As soon as he looks up from his hands, you give him a smile. 

“It’s a bit of a fresh start, isn’t it? And I think, right now, that’s what we all need.”

As much as Jun wants to say he’s not surprised at the turn-out, his eyes are wide open at the influx of people coming through the doors. 

His heart beats loud against his chest as he looks down at the stage, empty of people but perfectly set with an array of instruments that are only waiting to be lit alive. The entire place is full of chatter; the ever-growing excitement of a crowd begging to be enchanted by an unknown performance. Up from his spot at the balcony, he can’t make out what they’re saying but he doesn’t miss how they’re saying it: and the pure excitement in their voices draws a chill from his spine. 

It’s a scene like the ones he’s been hearing about for years. Like the ones he’s been dreaming of witnessing, of being a part of it. And now he’s in one, not only as an spectator, but as the man behind the words. 

“It’s amazing, don’t you think? Or as Josh would say, incredibly groovy.” 

Seungcheol, the band’s manager, asks as he walks into the balcony. Him and Jun went way back, much more than anyone else in their group besides the band themselves. They were the new generation, the young dreamers at the office that were only waiting to be given a shot to prove themselves. They had been hired at the same time, both meant to work with a completely different artist that had ended up not taking them because of how young they were. 

They had built up their experience together, and it had been those late-night talks at the label’s office that made Jun able to call Seungcheol his friend, powered through by cheap coffee and tired conversations full of laughter. And they’re only part of the reason why Jun always refers to Seungcheol as a long-lost brother more than a newly found friend. 

“It’s almost sold out!” Seungcheol continues. He’s wearing a dark pin-stripe suit, as he always is whenever he’s on official business. His hair is slicked back, and his usual pair of gold wire-frame glasses rest on top of his nose, specs perfectly clean. “People keep walking in and walking in and walking in! It’s almost as if they’re the freaking Rolling Stones and not a band barely making their debut. Is that Hoshi or is it Charlie Watts on the drums?”

“It’s the Monday night show, it’s a guaranteed success,” Jun mutters. He knows Seungcheol would be able to see past his facade, to make out the true meaning of his words. Three years after meeting him, there isn’t much he can hide from him. “I’m happy for them, though. The first night’s important.”

“Yeah, me too,” Seungcheol smiles. “Vernon’s been freaking out in the backstage since he started hearing the crowd coming in. He’s just staring at his bass and Hoshi’s about to smack his head with his drumsticks.”

“They’re gonna do amazing. If Mingyu gets his riff right, that is.” 

“And everybody’s gonna love the songs,” Seungcheol says, pressing a gentle palm on Jun’s shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed he was shaking. “If only they knew the stud that wrote them. I bet they’d even like looking at those nice bell bottoms you’re wearing. Since when do you like purple pants?” 

“I bet they’re gonna prefer looking at Mingyu,” Jun laughs before Seungcheol does, and it almost distracts him from his surroundings. “Or even Josh. And Minghao gave me the pants, by the way.”

“Or even Josh,” Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head as he looks away from his friend. 

“Groovy,” Jun says. 

“Groovy,” his friend responds. 

Jun’s nerves have calmed down by the time the lights fall down. 

A half-empty beer bottle looks over the crowd, sitting immediately next to the balcony’s railing. He notices an entirely new atmosphere now that the room is only barely lit, as if the lights falling had only served to heighten the people’s emotions. It’s almost as if they’re in a different place altogether, with expectating hanging high in the air and out of everyone’s reach. 

The Moonwalker they had walked in, just a few hours before, barely resembles the Moonwalker they’re in right now. 

It had been lit by the natural light coming from the windows, bouncing over the wood-covered walls and reflecting over the little trinkets that served to adorn them. They had been the highlight of the place, attracting the eyes of everyone that entered to the rows and rows of pictures and memorabilia. What was that hanging over the bar, Bob Dylan’s hat? Jun had only been more impressed by the bright neon sign that spelled the bar’s name right on the center of the stage, after seeing it on newspaper cuttings for most of his life. 

A few days back, when Seungcheol had told him of the gig they had landed the band through a friend of his girlfriend (bless you Lily!), Jun almost couldn’t believe his words. The bright blue cursive sign had been the first thing that had come to mind, consuming his thoughts as a sort of finish line at the end of a marathon. It wasn’t only the bar’s trademark, it was also the backdrop of some of the most amazing debuts in modern rock n’ roll history. And now, looking at it shining brightly against the low-lit room, a part of him still can’t believe he might be about to see one of them with his own two eyes. 

He had heard of concert nights on the Moonwalker the same way he had heard the stories of the great mythic heroes. He had seen pictures the same way he had learned of iconic places and happenings. He remembers spending entire nights finding motivation in the dream of listening to his songs being played in the exact same place some of his favorite songs had been presented, of them finally finding their home within the same crowd that had once listened to The Byrds and Carole King. 

And as you walk onto the stage, commanding attention with each step, Jun is sure tonight is going to become one of those. And that it’s his songs that will be sung back by the crowd, resounding against the walls and enveloping the entire place in their meaning. 

The band had already been introduced by the club owner, but no one had actually turned to pay attention until you had walked on stage. You’re met by countless excited bellowings, a smile on your face forming at the sudden attention. 

“We hope you enjoy the show!”

The rest of the band follows, and Jun is struck by a thought. Words materialize in his head as if prompted by the first few notes, threading together into a complete, coherent phrase. It’s a phrase Jun knows. He might have heard it from someone, or read it from somewhere, and it’s stuck in his brain the same way the bridge of the song you’re singing once was. Or maybe it was just something someone had once told him. 

He knows that there are moments in an artist’s life that will define their career. Moments that let you know how it's gonna go. A preview of sorts. And he knows, looking at you shining under the spotlight, that he’s just witnessed something big. 

The entire crowd has gone wild at the music, and Jun knows it’s only the beginning. 

For now, he just smiles, and like the people dancing down below, he lets himself go. 

The party is in full-swing by the time Jun walks in. 

The house itself is small, one story and a few rooms that hold a big part of the party-goers. He can tell it’s usually used as a holiday residence, not exactly a place of staying but merely a place of passing, because every single thing that’s visible doesn’t really have a function different from simply looking good. The entire place is covered in small, colorful trinkets that look like they’re part of some random collection that everyone always sees but no one actually ever looks at. 

It’s truly a rock-star’s house, because, really, nothing about it makes sense. 

Countless bookshelves rest against the colorfully draped walls, an array of uneven, colorful wallpapers shining under the light of the multiple glass chandeliers, but not a single book is visible to the eye. The floor itself is a great quality wood, but everything’s hidden below a series of fuzzy rugs that somehow match the randomness of the wallpapers. 

The music changes slightly as he keeps walking, an entire ensemble of genres, styles and decades all the product of a number of record players playing simultaneously all over the house. All of them are playing a completely different thing, but somehow it all blends into one cohesive beat. Jun could go into the technicalities behind it and say it’s probably in the beats per minute, or could maybe go somewhere into the meaning behind the lyrics, but for now, he just lets himself get immersed into the scene. 

The party doesn’t resemble anything he had lived before, or even heard of. And it’s full of people. 

The entire team (band and staff alike) had been invited to an after-party held by some music executive that’s friends with the owner of the club. It happened every monday after the show, they had said, entertaining executives, artists, and club-goers alike. And no one really cared who was which as long as there was music playing all around them. 

“Jesus, is that Billy Joel?” Seungcheol asks as he walks closely behind Jun. The two of them and Minghao, the band’s stylist, had been the last to leave for the party, having to stay behind to finish the last of the arrangements that followed a successful concert at the Moonwalker, with the rest of you leaving with some of the club’s crew. “Guys, I think that’s Billy Jo- jesus, he’s talking to Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Of course he’d be talking to Chan and Seungkwan, they probably went right to him when they saw him,” Minghao says. “Hey, can you see Vernon around?”

“He’s probably sitting somewhere next to the drinks or something. Or maybe he’s outside, I think there’s a live band playing somewhere out there,” Jun comments.

“Damn, should’ve booked us too for that, right?” Seungcheol says, laughing with the words.

“Don’t you rather just enjoy the party and forget about performing for a bit?” Minghao questions. Out of the corner of his eye, Jun can see Seungkwan and Chan walking away from the group of people they had been talking to, probably on their way outside for some fresh air. “The guys seem to be having a great time. Let go for a bit, Cheol! Let’s enjoy this whole rockstar life even if it’s just for tonight!”

He can hear Mingyu’s laugh coming from somewhere nearby, even if his eyes can’t locate the tall guitar player. He’s surprised he can hear him, with how low his laugh usually is and how high the music is playing, but once Seungcheol points him out in the crowd, he’s only a few steps away. He’s entertaining a large group of people, with Joshua smiling by his side, the both of them holding two glasses of what looks like beer. 

It’s no surprise the two of them would like to be around the growing crowd, with how easily they seem to be able to strike a conversation with whoever walks by. He had known them to be sociable, in comparison with some like Vernon, Minghao or himself. It’s still a bit surprising, though, how in control they seem to be of a conversation held with people they probably didn’t know five minutes ago. 

“I’m gonna go find us something to drink,” Seungcheol says, patting Jun on the back before walking away with Minghao closely following his steps. 

And Jun is left alone. Still, in a house full of people, he sticks his hands in the front bottom of his purple jeans. They had really been Minghao’s suggestion, along with the slick yellow button up and a pair of red boots. It was comfy, and Seungcheol had assured him he really did look good, so he hadn’t dwelled much on it when leaving the hotel room. 

He debates joining Mingyu and Joshua’s crowd for a second, but the growing scent of tobacco and beer has him making his way to the door after he raises his hand in a greeting. Josh manages to signal him to the backyard before Jun leaves, and he wonders whether he’s simply pointing in the direction of the live band, or Vernon, or you. 

As he walks outside, bumping bodies with a never-ceasing crowd, he discovers it’s the later. The outside of the house is just as impressive as the inside, or, as he finds once he begins to look around, even more. 

The entire yard (or at least the part that’s closest to the house) has been decked in continuous rows of fairy lights, hanging from the trees like a mere reproduction of the constellations shining up above. There are at least five campfires, all surrounded by people holding guitars or dancing along to the songs being played by a live band nearby. Their silhouettes are reflected on the ground, a product of the blazing fire, and it’s almost like they’re dancing with the people themselves, more than being a plain reflection of them. 

It’s almost like a scene taken right out of a move, only livelier than any he could ever think of. 

Jun finds you with your back against a tree, sitting cross-legged on a furry carpet, completely enthralled in the music. There’s a series of carpets draped all over the grass, the exact same kind he saw inside, completing the part of the scene that connects both places. As he walks over to you, he wonders where the rest of the band is, with you being alone in the backyard, until he sees Seungkwan and Chan, still hanging close together, sitting a few feet away with what he assumes is another group. A part of him is thankful at the seeming privacy, finding a bit odd how comfortable he is in the middle of a growing crowd when just a few minutes ago he had felt overwhelmed by the loneliness behind it. But then he turns to look at you, smiling carelessly even with your eyes closed, and he knows it’s not a product of the environment.

It's because of you.

“I just wanted to say congratulations,” Jun says, making sure to fall as carefully as possible as he sits down next to you. “Tonight was amazing. Truly, got me tearing up at all.”

“You’ve got your own lyrics to thank for that, mister,” you say, followed by a laugh. You’re still in your concert outfit, although wearing a pair of sneakers as opposed to the platform shoes that had been paired up with the colorful overalls. “I’m pretty sure you weren’t the only one tearing up tonight. I think Hoshi even cried a bit himself.”

“He probably cried at the crowd making tiger claws back at him more than he did at the lyrics.” 

“Yeah, Vernon told him not to do it but he did it anyway!”

“Where are those two, by the way?”

“Somewhere next to where the band is playing,” you answer. You close your eyes as you speak, resting your back against the tree. “I just wanted to get away from everything. Sometimes it’s fun to just observe from a distance.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been looking at life from a distance for so long, sometimes I forget what it is to actually be living it. I guess it makes for some interesting lyrics though, so it’s been kind of worth it, at least in that way,” Jun says, smiling at you even when you don’t see him. He moves closer to you as he hugs his knees to his chest, feeling the top of your shoulder brush against his. “I think coming with you guys on tour might change that.”

“It’s the rock-star life, huh?” You smile, and Jun can’t help but notice it’s a mirroring of his own smile. In some way, it looks just as vulnerable. He looks away when he feels his cheeks heat up. “You know, you’re much different from what I thought you were when I used to see you at the office.” 

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. I just know I really like talking to you. Every day, I really look forward to being around you,” you laugh, and when he turns to look back at you, you’re finally looking at him again. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Wen Junhui.”

“Says the rock-star,” he laughs. He’s smiling, holding his knees as close to his chest as he can manage as he tries to hide his fluester in his body language. Not that it’s working, anyways. “I’m just some guy.”

“You’re the most interesting guy I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head, and by the way your eyes set on the sky, Jun isn’t completely sure if you’re talking to him or if you’re simply talking to the stars, trying to set your story in the skies for the entire world to see. It makes him smile even wider, anyways. 

“I wonder which one shines brighter. From down here, they look almost the same. But maybe it’s just the distance that taints our perspective,” you mutter, pointing to the lights on the trees. 

“I’d like to think it’s the stars,” Jun comments. “When I was a kid, I always enjoyed watching them. I’d find patterns and have them in my head for weeks as a sort of picture out of a coloring book. Somehow, the stars always seemed to have the answers to every single question that would run through my head, even when miles away.”

“You speak like that and call yourself ‘some guy’,” you laugh. “It’s always poetry coming out of your lips, and I’d listen to every single bit of it.”

The conversation stops, but silence never envelops the both of you, because there is music all around. And there are people dancing, so when you lose focus on each other and gian it in your surroundings, their movement is everything you see. It’s almost as if they’re dancing for the two of you to watch, and neither of you notice the moment your head comes to rest in Jun’s shoulder, way too immersed in a ballet of silhouettes to make anything out of the sudden movement. 

“I hope tonight was good,” you say. “It felt different from other nights, and I don’t know what it was. I’ve never felt that way when performing at home. It felt almost magical, standing there, under the limelight, in front of all those people. Maybe it’s just me, though.” 

Jun shakes his head, muttering a soft no as an answer. You turn to look at each other when he starts speaking, still as close as before. But now he gets to look at you as he speaks. 

“I can’t begin to imagine what you must have felt. I’m not familiar with that side of the gig,” he says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. Somehow, the beer he had drank back at the club was still making his blood run wild through his veins, cheeks reddening at the eye contact. “I wish you could’ve seen it from my eyes. Listened to it through my ears, felt what I felt the moment you started singing. I’ve never seen you shine any brighter.”

"You’ve been attending our concerts long enough. Well,if the fifteen person presentations back home even count as concerts.”

“I’ve been to all of your concerts,” he laughs. “And believe me, tonight was really special.” 

“It’s the Moonwalker’s magic,” you say, and Jun turns to look at you. “You saw the place, it was special. It made it special.”

And he doesn’t know if it’s the effect of the lights shining above your head, or the remaining adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he’s sure he can hear his heart beating against his chest. He can hear it over the loud music, thumping so hard his mind goes blank, falling closer to you as he begins to lean in. 

Because even when far away from the Moonwalker, he’s still smiling the same. He feels just as happy, somewhere in the backyard of a stranger’s house. The place is special, for sure, but only as much as you made it. 

“It wasn’t the Moonwalker that was magical. It was you.”

And you can hear him, because even when the world around you is spinning completely out of order, his smile is still front and center in your eyes. He’s smiling at you and everything else only but circles around it. 

As a new song starts playing from a record player far away, Jun kisses you under a thousand fairy lights. You’re still not sure of which one shines brighter -the artificial lights or the stars high above- but as Jun’s hand finds yours over your lap, you decide you don’t really care. 

A part of you would really like to think nothing had changed after the kiss. 

In reality, the two of you had been so flustered he had ran back to Seungcheol and Minghao while you went to find Vernon and Hoshi, refusing to say anything about the moment to any of them. It was part of some unofficial and unspoken deal, sealed with only a look, sparing the both of you of any kind of conversation immediately afterwards. It had been a product of the moment, of adrenaline and slight tipsiness combined with a romantic scenery, and nothing else. 

That’s what you told yourself the entire night, even when questioned by Seungkwan about the sudden giddiness in your smile and the change in your gaze, slightly unfocused on the world in front of you, as if something more important was playing inside your head. As if that something was the memory of the feeling of Jun’s lips against yours, leaving your skin tingling as an aftermath of his touch. As if that something had been the way he had smiled at you right after, looking as if the affection you’d just shared was as unbelievable to him as it was to you. 

In all honesty, Jun’s kiss was more than one of the many that were shared that night by the people around you. It wasn’t just a product of the moment, of adrenaline and slight tipsiness combined with a romantic scenery, because the way you had looked at each other just before your lips connected had been a long time coming. That was the product of months of unknown pining; of you looking for him as soon as you entered the office, and of him not being able to take his eyes off you as soon as he saw you walking by. It was a product in the exchange that came with you singing for the world the words he had shared with you in messy scribbles over coffee-stained paper, something about the entire thing feeling growingly intimate the thought ran through your head. 

Because even when he wasn’t writing songs for you, or about you, he still trusted you with them. In your eyes, that was worth more than him signing one of them with your name on top of the page for everyone to see. And while you were sure it wasn’t an act of love (or at least not yet), you couldn’t deny it always opened the door for that possibility to walk in. Or for you to walk towards it, at least. Just like his songs, and for months on end, Jun had always been there. 

Well, at least up until the night he kissed you. 

You weren’t sure if it was intentional or fate making a cruel joke out of your feelings, but Jun had been avoiding you. As much as he could be avoiding you in the span of a few hours, at least. 

“Wanna sit with me on the bus?” 

You can’t really tell what Vernon’s wearing. He’s sitting next to you on the curb in front of the bus, a pair of sparkly sunglasses resting atop of his nose. He’s wearing a yellow hat that matches the color of his shoes, but that doesn’t really go with any of the other pieces of his outfit. 

“Aren’t you gonna sit with Hao?” 

“Ah, I don’t know,” Vernon drinks from a styrofoam cup he has on his hand. It’s the same as yours, so it’s probably to-go coffee from the hotel’s restaurant. “He’s been trying to talk about some outfit ideas he had during the concert last night. He called it a revelation or something. I’m pretty sure Seungkwan could be of more use to that conversation than me.”

You don’t really want to sit with Vernon. And it’s not that you don’t enjoy his company, because out of everyone in the band, he’s always been the one you’re closest to. But somehow, you know sitting next to Vernon will prevent you from any chances of even talking to Jun in the next six hours until you reach the next spot. You’re not sure if he’s even actually avoiding you, but you don’t really want to be correct. 

“Are you kidding? You wear this kind of outfits and you think you don’t have a sense of fashion? Vern, if anything, you’ve always been the Mick Jagger amongst all of us.” 

“Okay, those stage outfits were chosen by Minghao, it wasn’t really me putting together those suits and - whatever he has me wearing all the time.” 

You roll your eyes, playfully. 

“Although, I guess I could use this chance to keep him from putting me in another sparkly overall like the one from last night.”

“But you were such a star! It looked pretty nifty if you ask me.” 

“Keep going and I’ll tell him to find the most ridiculous hats for our next concert, just you wait!”

The rest of the band starts walking out of the hotel, Chan’s laughter pulling your attention from Vernon. As they walk next to you, you decide to ignore Hoshi’s tiger print overalls and Mingyu’s conversation of how he had met and talked to George Harrison at the party once Joshua had walked away from him.

“I don’t believe George Harrison would ever like to be entertained by your presence, Gyu. There were definitely groovier people to be around last night.”

“It’s not my fault you decided talking to Seungcheol was more important than stickin’ around, we literally see the guy every day.”

“Hey, I’m your manager!” Seungcheol wines from the hotel door, walking behind a groggy Seungkwan.

“Yeah, we literally see you every day,” Mingyu retorts. He has one foot on the bus steps, only turning to argue with the eldest. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you so often, with all your random hair-do’s.”

“Can it and get in, we’re late anyways. Everyone keep steppin’!”

“The only reason we’re late is because you couldn’t stop talking to your girlfriend on the phone,” Mingyu lets out before climbing in, somehow managing to avoid getting yelled at yet again. 

You get up after Vernon, following him into the bus as soon as Mingyu, Josh and Seungcheol had gotten in. You’d seen Seungkwan, Hoshi and Chan passing by, and quickly found them sitting together near a small kitchen area. 

The bus itself isn’t much different from others you’ve seen, with rows of faux leather seats set one after the other along the central aisle. All the way to the back there’s an area with what looks like a small bed, a door leading to a tight bathroom and a small kitchen space consisting of two cabinets and a microwave. And every single thing is either muted yellow or a dark orange, making the entire espace look probably smaller than it actually is. It’s comfortable enough, though. 

“Hey, Vern, come here,” Minghao calls from one of the seats. He’s resting his back against the window, with his feet on the couch and his knees pulled close to his chest. A small notepad rests on top of them, having only looked up from his sketches to greet the bassist. “Let me show you what I’ve been thinking of. I swear, the setting of the Moonwalker gave me so much clarity on what I want to put all of you guys in for the rest of the tour.” 

“Hao, give Josh a groovy Bob Dylan inspired hat!” 

“You wear the damn Bob Dylan inspired hat if you want, see how groovy it looks on your head.” 

Vernon looks at you to give you a small smile before sitting down next to Minghao as you walk past, stealing one of Hoshi’s snacks before plopping down on the seat behind him. You shift in your seat, hearing the slick material of the seat squeaking against the courness of your jeans. You quickly look at the small smiling daisies Minghao had painted with black markers all over the light surface, making for an interesting pattern when looked at from far away. Your fingers trace over the figures as you rest your head on the window, closing your eyes until you feel someone coming to sit right next to you. You had quickly placed your book on the seat when sitting down, but you find it on top of Jun’s lap as you see it’s him who’s by your side. 

“What an interesting thing to be reading!” He exclaims, looking at the beat up copy of On The Road. “You’re a Kerouac fan?” 

“You’ve read Kerouac?” You ask. 

Jun smiles. “Of course not,” he says, before breaking into a laugh. He doesn’t give you the book back, but turns it to read the back cover. “Read to me? It will keep us both entertained.” 

Without focusing too carefully on it, you can hear the distinct crisp sound of Joshua’s guitar coming from the front of the bus, and can make out the first notes of the Stairway to Heaven solo. It sounds better than you’ve heard him play, most likely the product of constant practice. But it all disappears when you turn to look at Jun. 

Smiling at you, Jun lets you straighten up on your seat before placing his head on your shoulder as he hands you the copy. You’re surprised by how familiar it feels, and feel your lips curling up at the memory of doing the exact same thing the night before. 

And you know that things have changed from the kiss, because now you’re not able to ignore the feeling in your chest that arises when Jun takes your hand in his. And you can only wonder if he feels the same, because he lets out a soft sigh the minute you tighten the grip, nuzzling his cheek against the fuzzy fabric of your corduroy jacket. 

Smiling at his touch, your eyes start glazing over the print as you begin to read. 

“I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up…”

The dinner lounge of the second hotel is much fancier than the first one. 

The entire place looks like it’s been draped in velvet, every single ridge looking as smooth as a crease in the fabric. There’s a combination of wooden panels and wall-height mirrors adorning the walls, only interrupted by the golden frames of the windows. A dome rises on the center of the center, a thousand red roses painted in a mosaic of tinted glass, while the rest of the ceiling is covered in the exact same wood as the walls. The tables are all draped in expensive looking tablecloths, placed carefully under meticulously set tableware, and they’re accompanied by tufted chairs, all of them in matching red. The dark colors in the scheme makes the entire place look dim, despite all the chandeliers shining bright against up above the clients’ heads. There are candles decorating the tables, along with fresh roses matching the ones in the dome, but they serve more as a simple ambiance decoration than an actual light source.

And, even though the city they had been in had been just as big as the one they’re in now, and the budget had not changed in the slightest, the shiny grand piano that sits at the center of the small wooden stage at the back of the restaurant had caught Jun’s eyes as soon as you had walked in for dinner. 

It was supposed to be a group dinner, but Mingyu, Chan and Minghao had gone sight-seeing, Vernon had fallen asleep and Seungcheol had stayed back in his room to rest (and, probably, talk to his girlfriend on the phone while eating something from the room service). At the end, it’s dinner of five instead of a dinner of ten, and while it would have been nice to share it with everyone, the company you had was more than enough. 

“This place is groovy! Oh, Seungcheol went all out with this hotel,” Josh exclaims as you sit down at a table neighboring the windows, all five of you immediately drawn to the exterior scene. “I’d say he did an excellent job booking if it weren’t for the fact I’m rooming with Hoshi.”

“Hey!” The younger exclaims. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent roommate. Best you’ll ever have, you’ll see.” 

“Yeah, I’ll start thinking that once you pick up your dirty socks from the floor after taking them off, that’s not groovy at all.”

“Jesus, can we not talk about Hoshi’s dirty socks while at the table, that’s fucking gross.”

“You’re just overreacting, and please just stop saying groovy,” Soonyoung says, rolling his eyes and picking up the pastel pink menu from the table, locking his eyes on the cardboard. “Anyways, this one burger looks way too nifty to pass it up.”

“I was thinking of ordering the same thing,” Seungkwan says, closing the menu. 

“Have you seen the kind of restaurant we’re in? Order a pasta, or a salad, not a plain burger, go with the groove.” 

“Do you think we’re Seungcheol, Joshua? If you had asked for his card like we told you, maybe we’d be buying pasta and wine for the five of us without you having to tell us about it!”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re scary when you’re angry?” Joshua asks, probably deciding on a burger as well as he imitates Seungkwan and places the menu back on the table. 

“Only sometimes,” Soonyoung responds, smiling. 

You’re not listening to their argument, though, with your chin resting over your hand and your gaze lost somewhere in the movement of a stranger. 

It’s funny how being in a completely different country, in a city a million miles away, there’s some sense of familiarity behind simply watching people walking by. You’re not sure if it’s just the mere action, or maybe a combination of the movement in a similarly urban setting, with the lights reflecting upon the crowd as a sort of kaleidoscopic filter, but it never feels entirely too different. 

“Do you want to play a game?” Jun asks, whispering right into your ear. He’s leaning close to your body, sitting between you and Joshua. You can make out the scent of his cologne as he scoots even closer to you to point to a stranger outside the window. “Like when we counted the number of headlights on the highway on our way here.”

You nod, words suddenly stuck on your throat as soon as you see Seungkwan looking at the both of you. Because truly, it was oh so very easy to get lost in the moment whenever Jun was around, and the thought has you smiling as soon as you notice. It’s oh so very easy to get lost in him. 

“Okay, we’ll make it interesting. Whoever wins buys the other a cherry cola!” he says, his voice still sounding just as soft. If he’s aware of Seungkwan’s stare, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. “Let's spot all the people that look like they’re dressed by Minghao after looking at the Moonwalker, starting… now!”

But his words have you laughing, so deeply you can feel it in your chest as you throw your head back. He looks at you, a care-free smile etched all over your face, and he can’t resist the laugh that forms at the center of the stomach, completely imitating your actions as the rest of the guys simply observe. And it’s amazing, because somehow, you have found just enough comfort in the presence of each other to be able to forget about everyone else. It’s not shy smiles and nervous laughs when in public, but full on grins and bursts of laughter. 

The thing no one notices though, completely distracted by the boisterous laugh, is Jun placing his hand on your thigh under the table, thumb moving in delicate circles against the fabric of your jeans. He doesn’t spare a second thought on it, finding way too much comfort in your closeness to make it a conscious action. And you aren’t even surprised on how natural his touch feels by now, because, somehow, it feels like coming home. 

Or maybe they do, but they just smile at the sight. There’s something enthralling about watching two people falling in love, bit by bit, gesture by gesture. It’s a tell behind the warmth of a smile and the fondness of a look, and while it’s not entirely common, it’s too beautiful to disrupt. 

“Josh, have you really been looking at your reflection this entire time?” 

It’s late, and everyone but you and Jun have left the restaurant by the time the piano player arrives.

You’ve long since finished your meal, having shared a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs after Jun had said he wasn’t even that hungry anyways. You had ordered two cups of coffee and a shared berry panna cotta, way too lost in making conversation about everything and anything to actually notice the passing of time. In reality, it’s only when the coffee has run cold and the musician has started playing that you notice an hour has passed since the guys had left for their rooms. 

The song is not one you recognize, but apparently does, judging from the movement of his fingers against the table. He’s looking at the musician while he runs his fingers on the tablecloth like it’s some sort of invisible piano, making sure to get every single movement right in a tempo that perfectly matches the one that’s being played. You’re not sure if he notices, but his body has begun to sway ever so slightly, somehow matching the movement of his fingers.

The place is the same, yet it feels like a completely different one, even when the only thing that has changed is the music. It’s almost atemporal, like it could be night and day at the exact same time, as if it was simply something out of a dream. 

“Do you know this song?” 

Jun nods. He keeps his eyes on the musician, and a part of you wonders if it’s because he wishes that were him. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he answers, smiling. “I used to play it when I was growing up, back when I was learning. I remember how excited my parents were when I finally got the movements right after years of practice. I guess a part of their excitement that day was a part of what made me fall so in love with music that I decided it was what I wanted to do with my life.” 

“How did you learn to play the piano? Seungcheol says you’re really good, and yet, you’ve never played with me around.”

“My mom’s a piano teacher. She used to give classes at this one prestigious school in our neighborhood, and I would hide behind the kitchen door and listen whenever she had a student,” Jun says. “I always liked how it sounded, so one night I just sat down on the piano and started playing. My mom started giving me classes the very next day.” 

“And what about composing? How did that start?” 

You had ordered a refill for your coffee and drink from your cup as Jun starts talking. 

“I don’t know, maybe with school, or maybe just with books in general. I was always dreaming, thinking about stories. Sometimes I couldn’t get the ones I was learning about out of my mind, and before I knew it, there were so many scenarios being born in my head that I simply had no idea what to do with them.” 

“So you started writing them.” 

Jun nods. “After some time, they started turning into songs. I would be looking at the lyrics and would suddenly start hearing a certain tune playing from the back of my mind. It was only a matter of time until I realized what I kept writing were songs rather than just tales, and they started meaning something more to me. Music makes the world go round, but it’s the lyrics that give it meaning.” 

“Said like a true poet,” you say, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you raise your cup to then once more. “I can tell your lyrics mean a lot to you. I know it probably sounds a bit silly, but I can feel it, you know? The emotion behind them. The words come alive before they’re even in my mouth.”

“Sometimes I can’t really tell what I’m feeling until I turn it into a song. The words come from a place so deep inside I can’t reach them on my own, but have to turn onto a pen and a piece of paper to know what they are,” he finally looks away from the musician. He’s still smiling, softly, gently. “It's a little weird. They feel both so deeply personal yet completely different from myself, as if the Jun that exists in the songs is a completely different person from the Jun in the real world.”

You fall quiet. You try to make sense of Jun’s words in your head as he reaches to grab a hold of your hand, but they’re way too beautiful, too meaningful, for you to tamper with. So you feel your heart grow warm at the passion behind them, looking at the man in front of you like he had just painted the stars upon the night sky. 

“Will you dance with me?” 

“Jun, no one is dancing.” 

“And when have you let that stop you?”

Setting the napkin over the table, Jun gets up from his seat. He stretches his arm out at you, offering his hand, his silver rings reflecting the light upon its touch. And he looks at you, eyes sparkling brighter than ever under the restaurant’s delicate lightning, completely absorbed in the way your body imitates his movements.

You let Jun lead you through the sea of tables, all the way to where the little stage is located. There’s a small space that has been left between the stage and the neighboring tables, and you wonder if maybe dancing is what it’s meant for, despite not being used for it. But Jun is quick to replace your thoughts until they’re only about him, pulling you close to his chest and letting his hand rest against your waist. 

“Just focus on me and I’ll focus on you,” he whispers, moving to talk right against your ear. “Hold me a bit closer and forget about everything else.” 

Pulled flush against his frame, you let your hands fall on his back, closing your eyes as you allow him to sway you to the rhythm of the music. He moves in a way that almost has you wondering if maybe you are flying, but you’re not sure if it’s because of his dancing or if it’s just because it’s him. 

You recognize the song the minute Jun starts singing the words. It’s soft, so much you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been standing so close to him, basically hugging him flush against yourself. It’s Love Is (The Tender Trap) by Frank Sinatra, and you smile at the similarity between the lyrics and the feeling in your stomach. 

He gives you a twirl and it’s like there are a thousand butterflies flying within you, knowing there really is no getting out, because there is no denying something that manages to make you feel so wonderful. He smiles at you and you’re sure you’re falling in love with Wen Junhui, thinking of the way his kiss had made you tingle once upon a starry night. 

“Keep on steppin’, you’re falling behind!” 

Jun laughs, turning back to face you. The breeze ruffles his hair as he moves, thin strands falling onto his forehead. The sky is a bright blue and the sun is shining with all its might, but Jun’s light blue button up and beige bell-bottoms still rustle in the wind. 

“It’s not my fault you walk that fast,” you say, quickening your pace to catch up with him. He moves smoothly as you meet him, circling your waist with his arm and holding you next to him as you walk. 

“Ah, that’s more like it,” he mumbles as he resumes his walk. His pace is not as fast, looking so much more at ease as he looks around at his surroundings. 

It had been Jun’s idea to spend your free day walking around the city, after Mingyu and the rest of his expedition crew had talked about their experience over breakfast. Some of the other guys had left earlier, excited about going to whatever stores they had seen on the bus before reaching the hotel, leaving you and Jun to simply stroll around and see what you find. 

“This is nice,” he mentions. “It’s been a while since I felt this relaxed.” 

“It’s nice you can feel relaxed in the middle of a tour,” you say, giggling. “But I get what you mean, having a break in the schedule, even if we’re only starting.”

“I think you’re the only rockstar I’ve met that actually uses the word schedule in their daily vocabulary.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I’m the only ‘rockstar’ you’ve met. I mean, besides… Seungkwan. Honestly, he’s the most rockstar material out of all of us.”

“Okay, Barbra Streisand.”

“You have not met Barbra Streisand!” 

“In my dreams.”

“Oh, I didn’t know those counted.”

The boulevard is lively. There’s people strolling up and down on both sides of the street, very much like you and Jun, with their pace and actions revealing there’s not much hurry behind their walks. Cars of all models and colors drive through the street, your walk having a varied background orchestra composed of revving engines, passing conversations and the occasional music that was audible from the entrance of some business. It made for the typical city noise, not much different from the one at home, but somehow perfectly fitting for the particularities of the sight. 

The two of you walk while holding the other, occasionally bumping shoulders with some other pedestrian when not paying particular attention. There’s truly not much on either of your minds behind the wonder of getting to know yet another city and enjoying the warmth of a sunny Thursday evening in each other’s company.

“Is there anything you wanna do?” Jun asks, slowing down his pace but not completely stopping. 

“Not right now,” you answer. “We could stop somewhere for a soda or something later, if you want. You know, since you won yesterday and all.” 

“Let’s go in here, then,” Jun says, moving his hand from your waist to your hand, softly pulling on you to the side. 

You quickly follow him as he walks inside one of the stores, never losing the grip on his hand. The front is small, walls painted red and a bright purple signboard hanging over the glass doors, reading Vintage Records and Books, along with a few music notes that look hand drawn over the surface in multiple colors. There are crates full of books and vinyls, the covers of all of them a bit faded by the sun or scraped over the passage of time. At a first glance you can identify some Johnny Cash copies alongside the assorted records, what must have been a bright green cover now looking surprisingly muted. 

And once you walk inside, the interior is just as lively as the outside. The place is covered in shelves, littered with books on one side of the store and with records in the other, with small placards dividing the shelves and categorizing the products. You can tell it’s a wide variety, with hundreds upon hundreds of colorful covers composing a contrast with the burnt purple of the walls. There are horizontal lines painted all across the walls in a bright green and an almost creamy white, which is replicated in a triangle patterned rug of the exact same colors, resting in the middle of the store. 

Among the shelves, there’s an assortment of indoor plants hanging from the ceiling in bright green ceramic pots, along with a few small trees located between some of the shelves themselves. On the rare vacant spaces in the walls there are band posters or book quotes, some of them autographed and some of them pasted one over the other with washed out tape. 

It feels oddly warm inside the shop, and you wonder if it’s merely because of the way the light breaks in from the tall windows up front. There’s a faint scent of flowers that reaches your nose as soon as you walk in, mixing in with the smell of paper and wood. And it’s heavenly.

“Hey, welcome!” Says someone from behind the bright pink counter. He looks around Jun’s age, with a long mane of dark brown hair that goes below his shoulders. He’s wearing a black hat and a green jacket, grinning at the two of you over the pages of a magazine. “Let me know if you see something you’re down with!” 

“It smells nice in here,” Jun tells you, but he must have spoken loud enough for the man to hear, because his grin grows in size. 

“Thanks, it’s home-made potpourri! I make it myself when there aren’t as many customers coming in,” he says, gesturing to a few jars displayed on a small counter. A few minutes ago, you wouldn’t think it was actually possible for someone to smile so big. “It’s for sale too, and it works really well on large spaces! Looks pretty groovy when it’s on display, if I do say so myself.” 

Jun smiles back, walking over to one of the tall stands where a bright orange sign announces a deal on the records.

“Oh, if you buy one of those, you can take a book from this bin right here for free,” the man says. You can’t make out the letters in his name tag from a distance, but you’re almost sure they start with an S. “You can try them out on that player over there, see if it’s nifty. They’re all second hand, but the quality’s off the hook.” 

You look around as Jun’s fingers graze over the records, flicking them so quick you’re not sure if he’s actually reading the title before discarding them. You hadn’t noticed the man had a record playing in the turntable he had signaled to, quickly recognizing the guitar solo of Jimi Hendrix’s Love or Confusion. 

“Hey, wanna get this Bob Dylan one for Josh? See if he likes the hat?” Jun asks, holding a record in his hand without turning back at you. “Maybe there’s a Kerouac book in that bin you can take with you. You know, for the next bus ride - oh, this one’s groovy!”

“Oh, of course you’d pick a Barbra Streisand record.”

“Yeah, she’s my best friend!” Jun giggles. “You know, besides from you. And Seungcheol, but he doesn’t really count.” 

“I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry. He won’t know you like me better.”

“A lot better.” 

You spend hours browsing the shop, laughing at the silly jokes made by the cashier (whose name is Seokmin) and talking about pasts spent together and pasts spent apart, conversations sewn together by a smile. You had even slow-danced to a couple Elvis songs, all while resting your head against Jun’s chest as Seokmin clapped at the two of you for, as he had said it, resembling a romantic scene from one of his favorite movies. 

And you’re not surprised at how familiar it feels, because in the last few days, Jun had come to mean much more to you than anything you could have ever thought. If you were as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, you’d even think it’s because your conexion runs even deeper than the simple process of falling for a friend, but you merely smile as the thought begins to form inside your head. And you laugh at how much it sounds like one of his songs. 

Because there’s as much beauty in the way he smiles as there is in the way it makes you feel. 

The sun’s beginning to set by the time you and Jun leave the record shop. The wind has gotten colder and the breeze has grown stronger, but as Jun tugs you close to his side, you don’t think you’ve ever felt warmer. 

He’s holding just as many records as you’re holding books, letting you make all the picks from the bin once he had purchased his vinyls, along with a jar of Seokmin’s home-made potpourri. 

His hand searches for yours as soon as you step outside.

“Can’t believe we’re almost there.”

The walk back to the hotel is surprisingly quick. 

Jun had been humming the melody to a song Seokmin had played back when you were at the shop, adding a slight bounce to his step as the pitch in his voice rose and fell with the beat of the song. He had smiled the entire way back, occasionally stopping his hum to point at the colors in the sky or their effects on your shadows on the ground, never failing to look at the smaller details that worked together in one beautiful, cohesive picture. 

But it still feels so much quicker than it had been the other way around, almost seems shorter, as if it had been a different path altogether.

Maybe it’s because you’re not as distracted by the storefront and the other passerbys, or maybe it’s just the feeling of bathing in the setting sun when making your way back that somehow makes the entire thing seem shorter. Jun had stopped to get a pair of pastries and two cups of coffee at a small bakery you hadn’t noticed earlier but went unaverted once the signs lit up, which now await inside a small paper bag and in two paper cups, respectively. As you sip from one of the cups, you think it’s the best coffee you’ve had in a long while. 

Jun suggests yet another game on the way back, making you smile as he tries to locate every single red platform shoe worn by a woman over 5’0”, which, surprisingly, aren’t really that many. And you should have guessed from the moment he had said it, but he was just trying to let you win (because, after all, he had won the last two games and just had to pay the coke back). 

“Ah, you’re getting lucky with your pick!” 

“You were the one that chose what we’d look for!” 

“Just let it be our secret,” he says, turning to wink in your direction. 

You can feel the coolness of the breeze nipping at your nose when you finally reach the hotel, walking through the glass doors with Jun following close behind. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. 

“Do you want to get dinner?” You ask. You can smell the sugar and the cinnamon from the pastries, and your mouth begins to water. “There’s this other pasta dish on the menu that sounds just as good as the one we had yesterday.” 

Jun purses his lips, giving a slight squeezing to your hand. “Let’s get room service, I want to show you something.” 

He starts walking towards the elevator, moving slowly and letting you admire the pastel green lobby in all of its glory. There’s some faint jazz music playing as you walk through the lobby, which you hadn’t noticed until then. A big tree rises from the center of the room, matching some smaller ones that are perched next to the deep green tufted couches and complimenting the flower arrangements that have been used as decorations in both the small coffee tables and the bar at the reception. It’s a slightly different vibe than the one from the dining hall, but somehow, both of them look just as fancy. 

“What is it?” You ask. 

“You’ll see.”

“Can I get a clue?”

“No, you’re going to help me finish it.”

“Please don’t tell me you also collect those freaky deaky puzzles Chan likes to put together in his free time.”

Jun giggles, shaking his head as you reach the elevator. “Ew, the anatomy ones? No, no way.” 

The way up to Jun’s room is spent with him trying to guess the elevator music by singing random lyrics and seeing which one sounds best. Not that he got a single one right, but it was certainly entertaining to watch him try. When you finally reach the 10th floor, Jun is singing the lyrics to Cher’s Where Do You Go to a jazz melody very much similar to the one from the lobby, and you’re sure he’s only doing it to make you smile. 

“Bienvenue to my humble abode,” Jun mutters as he opens the door to his room, making sure to bow down and open his arm to signal the room, completing the entire gesture with a short giggle. “I escaped having Hoshi as a roommate so I have the room all to myself.” 

“And you have Seungkwan’s piano,” you mention as you walk inside, pointing to the small electronic piano that was carefully positioned next to the window. “Does he know?”

“No, I stole it from the van last night,” he answers, laughing and plopping onto the bed. “Oh, I’m so tired!”

The room is not too different from yours; a muted orange wallpaper matching the fuzzy carpet. Both twin beds in Jun’s room are covered in a dandelion yellow duvet, one of them holding all of his luggage while Jun rests on the other one (the one he must have slept in last night, closest to the window). There’s a small television on the vanity, the box a combination of bright beige plastic and faux wood, surprisingly going along with the white lamps that stand on both sides of it. 

“What is it that you wanted to show me?” You ask, coming to sit in one of the chairs next to the vanity. They’re big, tufted, and the color matches with the one of the duvets. The chair is not the most comfortable, but as long as the bed is, you don’t really have to worry about it. 

Jun’s purchases lay next to him on the bed, Barbra Streisand’s Stoney End sitting on top of the pile. He had bought five records, four for himself and one for you (though he had refused to tell you which one it was, insisting it would be a surprise). You had selected five books to match his purchase, including a copy of Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles, which Jun had suggested you take because of the colorful cover. 

“I’ve been working on a song,” he mutters, still facing down on the bed. The words come out muffled, but they’re still audible. “I think you’ll like it.”

You let out a laugh. “I like all of your songs.” 

“This one’s special,” he says, moving so he’s resting on his shoulders. His hair has gotten a bit disheveled, falling all over his face as his lips curl up in a hazy smile. “I’m working on the melody, too. I just need to hear your opinion about it.” 

“You’ve been inspired,” you comment, reaching over to the vanity where Jun had placed the pastries bag. You take a roll into your hand and notice it’s still warm. 

Jun winks before sitting up. “You’d know all about it.” 

“All I do is sing your songs,” you say, breaking a piece of bread and tucking it into your mouth. It melts as soon as it meets your tongue. “You’re the artist behind the art. Should I start calling you Da Vinci?” 

“I like Monet better. I’m a huge fan of the Impression Sunrise, even got a poster of it up in my room back at home,” Jun answers. He moves so he’s sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Seungkwan’s piano, grabbing a small notebook from the bedside table. You recognize it instantly, because it’s the one he always carries with him. He pats the space next to himself. “Here, I’ll show you.” 

You leave your things on the bed next to all his luggage, books carefully propped against a faux leather duffle bag. Jun takes a piece of the cinnamon bread as soon as you sit down next to him, moving closer as he does, a whiff of his cologne reaching your nose. The duvet is of fine linen, surprisingly soft against your fingertips as you place your hands at your sides. 

“I started writing it the other day,” he says, opening his notebook and placing it on his laps. You try to take a peek at it, but the (messily written) words aren’t readable from a distance. It looks beautiful though, fine lines of black ink rising like a carefully painted artwork on the thick, creamy white paper. “When you fell asleep on the bus.” 

“It’s your fault for making me read to you!” You laugh, moving and bumping his shoulder with yours. “And, in my defense, the top of your head was extremely comfortable.” 

“Yeah it’s like a portable pillow,” he jokes. “Maybe I should start advertising it.”

“Bet Seungkwan would take you up on it, he got asleep on the bus too!” 

There is something about Jun that makes everything seem lighter, helping the seconds run fast against the clock. 

“Here, I’ll show you the melody,” he says, straightening his back and placing his fingers on the keyboard. The assortment of rings he’s wearing had felt cool against your fingers. “I stayed up all night to come up with it. I haven’t finished the lyrics yet, but the music is already here.” 

“Is that why you asked me for help? Are you gonna fall asleep on me?” 

Jun smiles, but doesn’t turn to look at you. “No, not really,” he mutters. 

He plays a key, but doesn’t give it much thought. It’s a quick, crisp sound, not really one that’s a part of a movement, even less of a song. Maybe it’s a reflex, like the clicking of the pen had once been, a mere outlet for his nervousness. He keeps his eyes set on his fingers as he speaks, not really directing his words at you but surely saying them because you’re there to hear them. 

His voice is soft, almost shy. “It’s because you’re the inspiration behind it.” 

And he doesn’t say anything else, but lets his fingers graze upon the keys as he starts playing. You’re not exactly sure what you’re thinking of, mind and heart running a thousand beats per second as you feel it thumping against your chest. There’s a feeling growing in your stomach, and whether it's due to adrenaline or some deeper, more complex feeling remains a mystery. 

You close your eyes as Jun plays, each note igniting fireworks in your head. The music flows into your ears like honey, setting light upon the darkest places of your mind, overflowing your senses with Jun’s interpretation. Every single note sounds just like him, as if he’s becoming the music as he’s making it. His fingers run over the keys in the same way an artist’s brush glazes over a canvas, immersing itself in their creation to a point their creation is all they are. He has become a song, a beautifully crafted sonata, making your heart feel warmer with every moment. You know it’s because the song itself is beautiful - but so is he, and that translates into every single sound, every single feeling. 

You let out a gasp as he begins to sing; it’s broken, a few lines here and there. You can tell it’s the bits he’s finished, the ones he’s comfortable with, leaving everything like a game of fill in the blanks. He had sung to you before, either in the song demos or in some practices where he had been finishing a song nearby - but his voice had never sounded sweeter. Your heart tugs against your chest as you listen to him, words coming alive in your head like the ones in the pages of a romance novel. 

“Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man…”

Your hands ball up into fists, scrunching the soft duvet as you try to keep your eyes closed, no matter how much your eyelids are threatening to flutter open. You don’t want to see anything that isn’t him, or his voice; don’t want to feel anything that isn’t the sudden warmth that rises all over your body, making you feel like you’re flying - 

And he stops, hands suddenly moving away from the keyboard after a faulty note. 

“Stop distracting me!” He says, laughing as his cheeks grow red in embarrassment. He hands his hands on his lap, fingers absentmindedly fumbling with the rings he has on. 

You don’t open your eyes, joining him in his laughter and falling on your back onto the bed. You bring your hands to your face, hiding behind them as your laughter grows louder. 

“I wasn’t doing anything!” You answer. 

You feel the space next to you dip as Jun imitates your movement, resting onto his back. His notebook has fallen to the floor, open in half, but he doesn’t notice. He brings his hand to your face, taking your own and moving it away from your face. He props himself up on his elbow, connecting your fingers over the duvet in the space that separates the two of you. 

“Did you like it?” He asks, words falling from his lips between jolts of laughter. His voice is soft, and it feels like velvet against your ears. “You know, before I messed up.” 

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” you whisper, opening your eyes and rolling to your side to look back at him. “Did you really write it because of me?”

Jun nods. He’s smiling, looking at you fondly as he searches for the words inside his head. “You’re a song in and out of yourself.” 

He doesn’t move as you stare into his eyes. Looking at him, you’re suddenly reminded of the night he had kissed you - the same constellations that had shined high above your heads now reflected in his eyes, drawing you deeper into his spell. You feel like you’re falling, the entire world falling as you lay on the bed, his hand on yours the only thing pulling you back into reality. It’s as if the world around you changes every single time you’re with Jun, spinning wildly out of orbit and transforming into an unknown fantasy, with the only sure thing being the way his eyes come to rest upon you. You’re not sure if anything else exists apart from Jun, because suddenly he’s all you can see. All you can feel. 

“And I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” he continues. He keeps his eyes on you as he speaks, as if trying to assure you his words are only for you to hear. “Or maybe I already was, but only just noticed. I hear your voice in every word, see your face every time I turn around with your name etched deep in my heart. I don’t think I could get you out of my head no matter how hard I tried. And I don’t think I would ever want to.” 

You hadn’t noticed there were tears forming in your eyes until one fell down on your hand, ice cold against the warm skin. You open your mouth, searching for words deep down in your heart, but Jun shakes his head. 

“Just… let me say it, you can go after,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming of love my entire life. As far as I can remember, I’ve always dreamed of feeling it. It wasn’t just something out of a fairytale or a novel, not even a dream coming out to a song. It’s been the theme behind all my songs and the happy ending of all my stories. And never would I have thought it would feel like this. Never would I have thought those dreams would become you, but you’re there, in every single word. In every single thought.” 

He moves, fingers caressing the back of your hand as he gives it a squeeze. He moves his hand, placing yours over his chest, directly over his heart. Although faintly, you’re sure you can feel it beat. 

And you move forward, your other hand on his neck, connecting his lips with yours. It’s warm, and you can make out a vague saltness that is no doubt a product of your tears. But they are long forgotten, the feeling of Jun’s lips against yours setting your body on fire as his hands come to rest upon your skin. You can feel your every vein light up as you move as close to him as you can manage, the space between you always weighing upon the both of you no matter how much you try to reduce it, because the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other is one you simply can’t get enough of. 

He opens his eyes, eyelids fluttering open at the need to see you; to set the final piece of the puzzle in his mind. It’s a puzzle that looks, sounds and moves like you, composed of a love that burns too bright to ignore. 

And as he looks at you, resting comfortably on the soft linen sheets, he’s sure he has never seen such a beautiful sight.

The next few days go by in a flash. 

The days start early, as early as the sun goes up and you have breakfast on some terrace with Jun by your side, with the sun reflected upon his skin like a golden veil. They’re spent in jolts of laughter with your friends, soaking in the sun when sight-seeing in all the cities you’ve visited. They’re spent carelessly singing in the bus, with Joshua and Chan backing up the vocals with loud strums of their guitars, not really caring about beat, or tune, or whoever may be listening. They’re spent getting to know the world with the people that make the entire thing worth it, smiling and laughing along. They’re spent in sleepless nights on stages or someone’s backyard, twisting and turning in Jun’s hand as he moves you to the rhythm of the music. They’re spent in him watching you from a balcony, dancing and singing along to the crowds adoring your every move, finding himself lost in your voice. 

And they’re spent in composing, with Jun finding inspiration in the smallest of your movements, lyrics suddenly being born in the crack of a smile and the fondness behind a look. 

By the time the song is finally ready to be sung, he’s still a bit nervous. It feels like a deja vu, with him tapping quickly upon a faux tiled floor. 

He rests his back against a wall, standing next to a closed door. He tries to move out of the way as people pass in a hurry, carrying equipment or reading from lists, simply looking around as he tries to count on the passing of time. He tries to maintain a steady beat with his foot, counting along in his head as he reads from the piece of paper he’s holding. Trying not to think about the sounds of a growing crowd, he can feel the paper crumpling in his hand, thinking that his grip on it might be a little too tight. Nonetheless, he can’t loosen it up, no matter how much he wants to. 

Night has fallen, and he can see the stars from the small window that rises at the top of the wall in front of him. There’s some moonlight breaking in, lighting up the ground and the glass detailings on the colorful tiles. For a second, he thinks of how familiar it feels, to be able to see a picture where there is none, and he smiles. Backstage or not, the night looks the same all around. 

He lets out a big breath, moving his free hand around as he does until he hears the door next to him flutter open. A laughing Chan walks out from it, followed by Josh and Mingyu, all of them with their guitars strapped down and ready to be played. They pat Jun on the back before they follow the small arrows on the ground, walking in the direction of the stage. 

He runs through the lyrics in his head as the rest of the band follows, you walking behind while trying to fix the back of your jacket. Minghao had suggested some fringes on the sleeves to add some “movement” but they had proven a bit impractical when getting stuck whenever you moved your arms. 

“Hey,” Jun says, grabbing your attention. “Do you have a moment?” 

You smile. “What are you doing back here? I thought you and Cheol were gonna watch from the balcony.”

“We are,” he confirms, nodding his head. “I just wanted to say hi.”

His voice is shaking as he speaks, as much as he tries to hide it. You take his free hand in yours, stopping his movements in midair, giving his fingers a slight squeeze as you attempt to bring him some comfort. 

“Are you nervous?” You ask. He simply nods, smiling when he feels you tightening your grip on his hand. “Is it because of the song?” 

“I know it’s a bit silly,” he comments. Despite holding the piece of paper, he runs his hand through his combed-back hair, causing a few strands to fall messily over his forehead. It looks so much better than when it’s gelled up. “But it feels different this time around. I don’t know, It feels a lot more personal somehow.” 

Bringing his hand up to your face, you give it a kiss. He sighs at the feeling. 

“They’re gonna love it, Jun,” you say. 

He smiles at you. “As long as you love it, that’s more than enough for me.” 

“Well, you already know that I do,” you giggle. “I’ll always love every single song you write.”

Laughing with you, he pulls you to his chest as he envelops you in a hug. Sighing against you, he tucks his face in your neck as he feels you hugging him back. You smile, feeling him press a light kiss on the exposed skin. He smells of sugar and cinnamon. 

“Leave them breathless,” he whispers as he breaks apart from the embrace. 

He kisses you one more time, quickly pecking the top of your head before he walks away. You give him one last smile, running your fingers down his arm as you begin to part.  

You walk in opposing directions, and Jun quickens his pace as he climbs the stairs leading to the balcony. He can hear the crowd growing with every step he takes, feeling a knot forming in his stomach as he moves his fingers around in an attempt to control his nerves. The way up seems familiar, consisting in dimly lit hallways and semi-peeled off posters on the walls, and he doesn’t even notice a few minutes have passed by the time he finally reaches the balcony. 

It’s not the Moonwalker, but the place shines just as bright. He greets Seungcheol, placing a palm on his friend’s back as he comes to stand next to him. 

“Hey, I was about to go looking for you,” he says, as a form of greeting. He smiles at his friend and motions to the public below with his beer bottle. “Great turn out tonight! I think this is our biggest venue yet, it’s amazing! I was talking to some guy over there, and he says a story is being printed on the newspapers about how successful the tour has been so far.” 

Jun smiles. “They deserve it. They’re an amazing group.”

“And they have amazing songs,” Seungcheol comments, nudging Jun’s shoulder with his own. 

Jun sets his eyes on the empty stage just as the lights begin to fall. A limelight focuses on the center of it, right where the standing microphone rises high among the sea of instruments. You walk out from the side with the rest of the band following close behind, and just like his very own, everyone’s eyes are on you. 

“We have a very special song for you tonight,” you say. You look up in the direction of the balcony, and Jun feels his heart beat loudly against his chest when you wink at him. “We hope you enjoy the show.” 

A breath gets caught in his throat when Seungkwan starts playing, fingers delicately grazing over the keyboard of his piano. He can feel Seungcheol’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, but all he can focus on is you. 

It’s always been that way, and the feeling on his chest lets him know it always will. It feels like a thousand butterflies finally setting flight. 

He smiles when you begin to sing, forgetting about everything else. The world around him stops existing, and just as the words start leaving your lips, he lets himself go. Because he had spent his entire life dreaming of this moment, thinking about the feeling being born in his chest. And he’s happy he’s waited, because it feels better than he could have ever imagined. 

Completely shaking off his nerves, he closes his eyes and lets out a breath. 

Hold me closer tiny dancer… 

[httpknjoon]

her majesty | jjk

plot | This is how the rumors began between a princess and a rockstar.

words | 615

genres | fluff, humor/crack, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | this one happened months after my last update!! enjoy reading <3

main masterlist | drabble series

Sweet September’s Jungkook Posts His Cover of The Beatles’ Song, Her Majesty

Spoiler alert: It might be dedicated to someone *royal*

Last night, the lead vocalist of Sweet September shared a thirty-second song cover on his Instagram account. The said video only shows Jungkook wearing a white button-up while playing an acoustic guitar in what his fans claim is his kitchen. Within just twelve hours, the video reached almost twenty million views and was posted on various social media sites by his supporters. Some fans claimed that the song was meant for someone *royal*.

In the clip captioned with a crown and yellow heart emojis, Jungkook sang The Beatles’ Her Majesty. The song was a hidden track in the band’s eleventh album, Abbey Road. 

Earlier this year, fans noticed the attendance Princess YN of Zafiro made at two of Sweet September’s concerts during their Denim Jungle tour. In the first one, she was seen with her sister, Princess Astrid. For the second one, the crown princess was spotted by a few fans in the band’s performance in New York just a day after the Met Gala. She was said to be seen wearing a particular ID only given to staff and special guests.

Many sources told E! News that there are sightings of the princess and the rockstar together in various places.

“I saw Jungkook approach Princess YN during the Met Gala.” an anonymous Twitter user posted. “He stayed and chatted with her until she left with her assistant.”

Another source stated, “Although Princess YN and Jungkook are both busy with their different lives, they really try to make time for each other. He (Jungkook) liked the princess before he even met her, That’s why he really took the chance when he saw it.”

It’s no secret to Sweet September fans that the lead vocalist has his eyes set on Princess YN. It was revealed years ago when each band member was asked about their ideal type and celebrity crushes.

“Oh, mine is totally not from the entertainment industry.” a nineteen-year-old Jungkook answered.

“Yeah, JK. We all know it’s Princess YN–” Mingyu was then cut off by Jungkook’s forced coughs.

Back to the song cover, Jungkook can be seen smiling as he sang the lyrics. He even smiled wider while singing the last line,

“Someday I'm gonna make her mine, oh yeah. Someday I'm gonna make her mine.”

The rumor between you and Jungkook was still new and growing when the song cover was posted. Various articles were later posted from numerous media sites with the same rumor topic. It’s a piece of surprising news for everyone since it involves a royal princess and a famous rockstar. With this, supporters of Jungkook’s and yours had mixed reactions to the ongoing rumor.

@/DENIMBLUE: so they are really dating?????

@/ynandastridslay: lol this rumor going around abt princess yn is just impossible.

@/jeonswatch: i just know jungkook is kicking his feet giggling twirling his hair when he heard that song before

@/sweeties09: omg so maybe my sister is not lying when she said she served jk and that princess in a mcdonalds drive thru 🤠

Replying to @/sweeties09

- @/carminwoojung: EXCUSE ME WHAT???

– @/gigglysun: abi when did she told u that???!?

— @/sweeties09: it was like after the band’s performance in new york months ago

@/ZafiroPrincessesFan: The King and Queen would never let the Princess date a rockstar. It’s just totally against the tradition. #.FakeNews

@/goldencrown: wth are these rumors??? Jungkook is dating louise right?

@/PopCrave: Netizens spotted Princess YN’s official Instagram account liking Jungkook’s latest Instagram post before unliking it an hour later.

Replying to @/PopCrave

- @/user90249853: someone’s finger slipped lmao

– @/bluemoon04: not her forgetting to switch accounts 😭✊

taglist rules

THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST

@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @stupendouscookiehumanmug @yoonjinhusbands @lilliankoo @gxtwllsn @snkyuv @canyon-lwt @hiii-priestess @jksgirlhere @bbtsficrecs @jnk-pop @jjeonjjk7 @tokkiggukie @kooliv @oopscoop @hani0407 @taebae19 @yunki-yunki-yunki @hellbornsworld 

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

[agustdiv1ne]

wip folder tag!

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. then people can send asks with the title that most intrigues/interests them and you’ll post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!

tagged by: @neoct-zen

i have tons of wips LMAO so here's all the titles by group (and i doubt anyone will rly go through this so i'm j gonna list some of the ones i haven't formally added to my wips post yet):

bts

pop — amusement park employee!yoongi x coworker!reader

party favor — bad boy!yoongi x reader

untitled — king!yoongi x peasant!reader

sunsets on the evil eye — sugar daddy!hoseok x sugar baby!reader

sunflower — florist!jimin x painter!reader

like apples and oranges — farmer!taehyung x city girl!reader

chase me — street racer!jungkook x rival!reader

forbidden — palace guard!jungkook x concubine!reader

untitled — vampire!jungkook x reader

untitled — youtuber!jungkook x reader (sequel to on camera)

stray kids

dogs make the world go 'round — neighbor!chan x reader

yes i do the cleaning — ceo!chan x dry cleaners employee!reader (ft. felix)

love bytes — apple employee!minho x samsung employee!reader

red — soulmate!hyunjin x reader

icebreaker — figure skater!hyunjin x hockey player!reader

can i be your (boy)friend? — best friend!jisung x reader

golden — flynn rider!jisung x rapunzel!reader

i need somebody — neighbor!felix x reader

rock you like a hurricane — 80s rockstar!felix x reader

puppy love — bf!felix x reader

ateez

fool's gold — painter!hongjoong x muse!reader

landslide — rich kid!seonghwa x small town girl!reader

untitled — hufflepuff!yunho x slytherin!reader

menace — bf!yunho x reader

untitled — prince!yunho x thief!reader

untitled — claire's employee!yunho x hot topic employee!reader (ft. ateez)

nice save — high school volleyball player!san x reader (ft. yunho + mingi)

paperwork — ceo!san x reader

kick it — bf!san x reader

ferris wheel fun — bf!mingi x reader (sequel to veloxrotaphobia)

you mocha me crazy — barista!mingi x reader

untitled — ghost!mingi x reader

double the trouble — best friend!yunho x reader x best friend!san

obsession — yandere!san x reader x yandere!seonghwa

txt

your person — best friend!soobin x reader

cross — cyborg!yeonjun x reader

untitled — vampire!yeonjun x reader

nct

27 — serial killer!johnny x potential victim!reader

untitled — bf!yuta x reader

why so serious? — joker!jaehyun x reader

sunshine in your eyes — stranger!kunhang x reader

forevermore — 50s cafe singer!mark x reader

untitled — enemy!mark x reader

untitled — bf!mark x reader

untitled — youtuber!jaehyun x youtuber!reader x youtuber!johnny

seventeen

hole in one — golfer!mingyu x golfer!reader

pls talk to me abt these, it'll motivate me to work on them :')

also there's more, they're just secrets rn hfjdhfjdj

tagging: @hwaddict @hopejanaee @oikawasmilkbread