#serra's sebtin writes

[svt-writers-club]

CAT CAFE!AU WONHUI'S PURR-FECT DATE! PLEASE AND THANK YOU~ 🖤

i would absolutely love to write their perfect date! i’m sorry it took me this long to get around to this, but i am literally a Hot Mess™ and i just have to apologise for that.

Wonwoo is pretty sure he’s going to vomit out of sheer nerves. He did it once in high school, right before he had a public speaking thing. Honestly, it’s a miracle Wonwoo is a physics teacher when he absolutely hates making his opinion known to large groups of people. Maybe it’s because his students hardly register as people. High schoolers are kinds their own kind of species, right?

Damn it. Wonwoo really wishes he could talk to someone right now. He desperately needs some advice.

He self-consciously smooths down the button-up he wears to work. He’d been wearing a tie – dark blue with physics equations scribble all over it in white lines  but it was a little nerdy for even him, so he removed it before he even got to the cafe. Wonwoo checks his jeans; at least they’re not horribly stained. They’re even a clean pair.

Wonwoo feels himself sweat. At least his button-up is black.

It’s just dinner. What could go wrong?

Everything, Wonwoo decides nervously. Literally everything could go wrong.

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo yelps, jumping in his seat. His eyes are hilariously wide behind his round glasses, but he can’t help it. Seungcheol damn near gave him a heart attack.

Wonwoo likes Seungcheol enough. He’s a nice guy, who takes in all kinds of cats if he can. More than half the cats in Catstronomy are strays, after all. He also runs adoption drives sometimes.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. Wonwoo is starting to realise that maybe he does that thing where he’s so in his head that he’s just staring, instead of answering the question.

“I��m... fine,” Wonwoo says with a weak smile.

Seungcheol is understandably unconvinced. “I don’t recall you looking three seconds away from puking when you’re ‘fine’.” He even does the stupid air quotes. When Seungcheol smiles, it’s sharp. “If you play with Junhui’s feelings, I will gut you and feed your entrails to the cats. Or worse.” He pauses dramatically, making sure to keep eye contact with Wonwoo. “I’ll sic Jihoon on you.”

Wonwoo’s face drains of colour. He’s seen Jihoon hoist Fluffy – the fattest Persian cat that’s almost as much fat as he is fluff – with one hand and not break out a sweat. Everyone else at least is red-faced after hefting that monster of a cat. Jihoon could literally pound him into a pulp, and it’s not a secret that Junhui is his favourite person in the cafe (after Seungcheol, of course).

“I really like Junhui,” Wonwoo blurts out. His palms are slick with sweat. “I wouldn’t ever hurt him, I swear!”

Seungcheol scrutinizes Wonwoo. Then, his expression relaxes into a genuine smile. Wonwoo wonders if it’s the nervous sweat on his upper lip that’s convincing.

“Good,” the owner of Catstronomy says. “Junhui probably hasn’t told you, but he likes you too. Don’t fuck this up.”

Wonwoo is frozen in his seat until Junhui picks him up.

“Hey! I’m done – why do you look like you want to piss your pants?” Junhui frowns, hands on his hips. “Did Seungcheol hyung threaten you?”

Wonwoo just nods mutely.

Junhui rolls his eyes theatrically. “Just because we call him the dad of the group doesn’t mean he has to act like it. He’s hopeless.”

Actually, Wonwoo is the hopeless one, but Junhui is convinced he isn’t, so he won’t quite disillusion him this early.

Wonwoo clears his throat and grins. From the look on Junhui’s face – equal parts amused and fond – it must look as awkward as it feels. At the very least, Junhui isn’t completely turned off and that’s a win.

“Ready to go to dinner?” Junhui asks, sliding out of his seat.

Wonwoo hesitates, then follows. He doesn’t flinch when Junhui pulls him out of the cafe with a jaunty wave towards Jihoon at the front counter. Junhui thinks out loud, listing potential date places. They all sound wonderful and Wonwoo would love to explore everywhere Junhui wants to go.

Junhui turns to Wonwoo expectantly.

“How about KBBQ?” Wonwoo asks.

Junhui face lights up. Wonwoo thinks that if Junhui wanted the moon, he’d move heaven and earth itself to give it to him.

In theory, a KBBQ place sounds great. They’re relatively private without only leaving the two of them in a room, Wonwoo can show off his great hunter-gathering skills by cooking some meat and it’s not so loud that Wonwoo has to shout.

In reality, Wonwoo manages to burn himself on the grill four times accidentally, Junhui is in tears of laughter and the first few pieces of beef that Wonwoo cooks ends up being overcooked, tough squares that would make Mingyu weep.

Wonwoo swears he’s better than this. Usually. Mingyu and Seungkwan can label him a certified hot mess all they want, but he’s not actually this bad. It’s just that... Junhui is a distraction. A wonderful distraction that he doesn’t mind being caught by over and over again.

Junhui pulls the linen towel away from his hand, checking on the reddened skin. It doesn’t sting much – the ice helps in that case – but Wonwoo thinks it feels better because Junhui is the one nursing him.

Wonwoo really likes Junhui. It’s not a problem at all.

Junhui laughs, covering his mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Maybe we should’ve gone somewhere that cooked the food before it reached the table.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? This is the best date ever,” he blurts out.

Junhui blinks, then looks down at Wonwoo’s injured hand.

“Best dates usually don’t involve bodily harm,” Junhui says with a wry smile.

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Are you kidding? I’m on a date with you. That’s more than enough for me.”

Looking back on it, Wonwoo has to admit that it was pretty smooth of him to say that. Junhui must think that too, from the blush that invades his cheek and the prettiest shy smile ever playing on his lips.

“You’re such a smooth talker,” Junhui teases. “You’re lucky I like nerds.”

Wonwoo has to agree. Wonwoo is lucky. He’s the luckiest man on the whole damn planet. (Junhui would disagree. He’s argue that he’s the lucky one.)

[svt-writers-club]

i know i have a million and one aus but i was looking through my twitter and i saw an idea i wrote sometime last year and now i can’t stop thinking about it.

VENOM!JIHOON

- Lee Jihoon is just a simple journalist. Sure, he works too hard and has like no social life and hasn’t made any new friends since his hot neighbour moved in, but so what?

- Back to that works too hard thing. Jihoon loves being an investigative journalist. He loves writing news that people want to hide away and he loves it when people try to shut him up because that’s how he knows he’s doing his job right.

- He meets the symbiote on one of his stories.

Hercules International is suspicious. With italics and air quotes and all of it. Sure, they do a lot of good with their genetic research and sure they give a lot back to society through various charities, but no company is good at that. There are holes in their benevolent story and he will happily poke holes until HI’s image is swiss cheese.

- “You really shouldn’t do this,” Soonyoung warns. Jihoon doesn’t have a car, but Soonyoung does. He’s also been Jihoon’s friend since high school and is usually the one egging Jihoon on.

He’s not egging him on now. Jihoon thinks there’s a glitch in the matrix.

Jihoon waves a hand dismissively, eyeing the chain link fence that surrounds HI’s laboratories. “If they have nothing to hide, then they won’t mind me snooping.”

“As your best friend – ”

“You’re not my best friend.”

“As your best friend,” Soonyoung says loudly, “I have the right to call you out when you’re being a stupid bitch.”

Jihoon shoots him a flat look. “No, you don’t. Now boost me up on the fence.”

“You wouldn’t need a boost up if you just grew a couple inches, Ji.”

Jihoon makes sure to step on Soonyoung’s hair as he throws himself over the razor sharp wire at the top.

- Jihoon was right. There are humans trapped in those weird laboratory cells, in various states of tortured. Whatever genetic research HI has been doing, they’ve definitely not published anything about human trials. Jihoon is starting to think that the people here aren’t volunteers.

Jihoon takes a moment to let the horror sink in. Then, he shakes his head and starts taking pictures. He’s so glad he splurged on a proper camera instead of just buying the cheapest digital camera money can buy. He tries his best to leave these people their dignity, but it’s lost in a haze of his shutter clicking and frantically checking his watch. There hasn’t been a guard making rounds for twenty minutes now – are they really that complacent? – but Jihoon still doesn’t want to risk it.

He runs past the holding cells – and god, there are so many – and heads straight for the offices. He starts rifling through papers. So many papers and he can’t make heads or tails of them right now. He’s a journalist, not a geneticist. He starts snapping pictures again, but an alarm sounds.

The room turns red.

Jihoon freezes for a terrible, precious second. Maybe he tripped something when he ran into the office.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How could he be so stupid?

He starts shoving papers into his satchel, glancing at the windows that bare the office to the whole world. There’s no time for delicacy now. If he’s lucky, he’ll have something important in all these papers. All he can do now is pray and leg it.

He’s running past the twice-damned holding cells again when a sudden bang against the plexiglass causes him to yelp and fall. He whips around, eyes wide at the bedraggled woman that looks like she’s suffering.

There’s black goop all over her and she’s screaming, fists banging against the glass like it couldn’t withstand a damned truck running into it. She’s screaming, her eyes are bleeding, but the glass is too thick for Jihoon to be able to her what she’s screaming.

Jihoon scrambles away. The alarm makes his ears ring and he’s pretty sure he hit his head in the fall because he can see cracks in the plexiglass. He stares, entranced.

The glass breaks.

Jihoon doesn’t get a chance to scream. The woman falls and the black goop moves. It moves and it crawls against emaciated skin and it’s lunging for him oh god –

- Jihoon’s half-sure he lost consciousness for a couple minutes. He doesn’t know what happened. His whole body is covered in a thin layer of sweat and his skin feels too tight, like he’s a balloon that’s being forced to inflate even though there’s no space. His head pounds and the alarms just make it worse.

Shouting has Jihoon scrambling to his feet even though his head swims. He’d really prefer another minute – or seventy – to recover, but he’d rather not go to jail.

- The symbiote’s name is Woozi. It’s a stupid name.

Is not, the symbiote snarls in Jihoon’s ear. Or, well, his brain. Jihoon glares towards his left anyway, even though he’s in his crappy apartment alone. He’s hungry all the time, sleeping at night is too hot even when he’s in his boxers and his sense of smell is cranked up to fucking five thousand.

“Fucking parasite,” Jihoon mutters under his breath.

Jihoon’s left hand slaps him.

“You little shit – ”

- Jihoon and Woozi are not friends. Not at all.

They share a body, because they have to. If Woozi doesn’t live in Jihoon’s body, he’ll die. Frankly, Jihoon would rather the stupid parasite die, but the stupid parasite was also a victim of HI’s experimentations. He’s a good source... for now.

- Jihoon and Woozi are not friends, but they can agree on one thing: Choi Seungcheol is attractive.

- Jihoon has an embarrassing crush on Seungcheol. He’s had one on the older man for five years now, since they crashed into each other at the apartment lobby and Seungcheol called him pretty.

Woozi thinks Jihoon should mate with Seungcheol right now.

“I will not,” Jihoon hisses under his breath as Seungcheol bends over to pick up a book that fell off Jihoon’s coffee table.

“Hm? Did you say something, Jihoon-ah?” Seungcheol asks, pink lips pulled into a frown.

You made him upset, Woozi bemoans. Let me out! I can do a better job!

Jihoon wishes the stupid parasite would become corporeal for a minute just so he can pinch it.

“I said I’m not not better,” Jihoon stutters. “You really don’t have to be here to look after me, hyung.”

Oh. God.

Seungcheol is bending over again.

Slap his ass.

No!

Look at it. Slap it!

Fuck off.

Jihoon slaps Seungcheol’s ass.

[svt-writers-club]

i don’t know how many people are into my iron man!au, but i’m aware that at least one person likes it and i am willing to do anything for that one person. you know who you are ;3

Jihoon used to meet Wonwoo for brunch every Saturday. Keyword being: used to.

Back when they were still young and Jihoon had just newly gotten hold of Lee Group. He was a child genius, but still a child. Only nineteen when he was expected to lead an international company into the new age. Wonwoo had been a year from graduating with his masters and already on the way to being part of the Air Force. Wonwoo had always had his head stuck in the clouds, so seeing him aim for pilot had not been a shock to Jihoon.

Nowadays, they mostly meet at work functions. Wonwoo’s barely in the country and Jihoon is too busy with his work. Running a company (but Seungcheol’s taking over soon, so that’s fine) and creating weapons (ah, but he doesn’t do that anymore – not since Afghanistan) and making new technology that turns people’s heads.

Now, Jihoon’s making something of himself. Maybe even something that makes people (Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Seokmin) proud of him.

“Message from Wonwoo-ssi, sir,” WooJI says.

Jihoon, lying on his bed and doing nothing for once (which might have something to do with the aches in his joints), groans.

“Tell him to go away.”

“Let’s get brunch, Wonwoo-ssi has texted.”

Honestly, what’s the point of creating an AI when they just end up doing whatever they want anyway? It’s bad enough that Jihoon can’t control Dokyeom. Even his baby WooJI has his moments of rebellion. This just has to be one of them.

“Tell him no,” Jihoon orders.

WooJI hums contemplatively. There’s a quiet ping. “Wonwoo-ssi will be right over. He will arrive in twenty minutes.”

Jihoon groans, with feeling this time. “I’m selling you,” he grumbles.

“Of course, sir.”

Did he program smugness into the AI? He doesn’t remember doing it, but he must’ve. Past Jihoon must really hate him.

Jihoon forces himself to his feet. Through his threadbare tank top, he can see the dark veins of the palladium poisoning. He hates that it’s so stark against his pale skin. He wishes he could hide it under a tan, but he burns under the sun. Even if he didn’t it was too late to hide it. The poison had gotten bad enough that it was already travelling down his arms. Soon enough, he’d be nothing but pale skin riddled with a road map of black veins.

He turns away from the mirror. Jihoon has never been one to be disgusted with what he’s seeing in the mirror, but he is now.

He’s disgusted.

He looks worn out and sick.

Pathetic.

He forces himself into the shower, water hot enough to turn his skin pink. He wishes he could scrub away the black lines on his skin, but it doesn’t work that way. Maybe... maybe if he could just give up the suit. If he could give up being Iron Man.

Jihoon doesn’t let himself stay in the shower a minute longer than he needs to. His hair is still damp when he pulls on a t-shirt and blazer, covering up his sins effortlessly. He looks in the mirror again and forces a smile onto his lips. With a few adjustments, he looks the way he always does – the way he looks like in the newspapers and tabloids.

He can do this. It’s just as much for Wonwoo as it is for himself. He can’t let his best friend know what’s happening to him. Knowing Wonwoo, he’ll try to do something, like make it all better by being there. Wonwoo, with his dark glare and worried hands and his... caring nature.

No, no. He’d rather just keep Wonwoo away so that when he finally goes, it’ll be a relief.

Wonwoo arrives in the old pickup truck that he’s had since they were college roommates. Jihoon, smirk firmly drawn on his lips, smacks the passenger door obnoxiously.

“Are we finally sending this piece of junk to the scrap heap?” he mocks, looking at Wonwoo over the top of his Burberry sunglasses.

Wonwoo’s face is impressively blank. “You shut your stupid mouth. Don’t talk like that about Precious.”

Jihoon hops into the passenger seat, reclining the seat the way he knows Wonwoo hates. The pickup truck smells like it always does – of fake lemon, old leather and motor oil. He closes his eyes and it’s almost like he’s back in college, too small and too young and too smart and Wonwoo is the only one who understands.

“It’s been a while since we had brunch,” Wonwoo says conversationally. He doesn’t even blink when he shoves Jihoon’s feet off the dashboard.

“You haven’t been in Korea much,” Jihoon accuses.

Wonwoo snorts. “You haven’t been out of your apartment much. Shut up. I think you’ve managed to get paler, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

Jihoon gracefully ignores Wonwoo’s weak jab.

“At least I’ve been in the same country.”

“Is that what you call it when you fly off in your high-tech suit to save civilians?”

“Hey. At least it’s usually somewhere in Korea.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The music is low. Something hip hop that Wonwoo indulges in because he likes the beats or whatever (and he’d started liking it at first because it didn’t fit his image, but now he loves it).

Jihoon lets his foot hang out of the open window. It’s a nice, balmy summer’s day. The kind of day Jihoon would have loved to spend on the rooftop of his apartment, shirtless and soaking up the sun. These days he can’t do that. He’s too worried there’ll be a news chopper or even Seungcheol walking in on him.

“Did you call me out for something?” Jihoon asks as they turn down the road to Wonwoo’s favourite brunch place. It’s old, the furniture is mismatched and the food is greasy. (Jihoon loves it.)

Wonwoo hums along to the radio. He parks. His hands squeeze the steering wheel. “Do I have to have a reason?”

No, of course he doesn’t. Even if they don’t see each other much anymore, Wonwoo is still Jihoon’s best friend. He’s the only one who knows Jihoon.

“Yes,” Jihoon says with an aggravating smirk. “I didn’t think you missed me much, puppy.”

Wonwoo scowls and reaches over to punch Jihoon’s shoulder. Jihoon pretends that it doesn’t hurt. Wonwoo doesn’t know his body is frail now, after all.

“You know I hate it when you call me that, Jihoon.”

Jihoon does what he does best when he finds an exposed nerve: he jumps on it like a fucking trampoline.

“Oh, you hate it? Big bad air force man, Colonel Jeon Wonwoo, hates being called puppy? I thought you got over your fear of dogs ages ago – ”

“Listen, tofu boy, if you think you can hold that over me, you’ve got another thing coming!”

Jihoon uses his whole body to laugh. He throws his head back and lets the laughter fill the air, even as he reaches over to punch Wonwoo on the shoulder. He keeps up the act, acting as obnoxious as possible so whatever Wonwoo really wanted to talk about never actually makes it out.

This, Jihoon thinks, is how I want him to remember me.

Not the dark veins and the tired eyes. He wants him to remember his bright hair (he’d gone platinum blonde again on a whim) and his even brighter laugh. Better his sharp quips that border inappropriate or insensitive, rather than the heavy words he doesn’t dare speak, except to his coded-child WooJI and an impersonal video left in the AI’s memory banks, firmly hidden within his End of The World protocol.

[svt-writers-club]

idk i've i've obsessed with the villain au and... i've been wondering about what happened to villain! jihan

TRIGGER WARNINGS IMMINENT! if you’re triggered by/are not comfortable with blood, violence, gore and overall violent descriptions and imagery, then STOP HERE and move on to something else, thank you! (Feel free to message me if you think there are other trigger warnings I should add to this post)

what do you mean i’m not allowed to pile all the angst on villain au!jihan? where’s that rule book? i don’t see it, i do not know. even if there is a rule book, i simply cannot read.

it’s a halloween miracle! two posts in a day! how long will this craziness go on!

- Jeonghan once saw a future with Jisoo.

He doesn’t tell anyone. He doesn’t tell Jihoon, or Seungkwan, or even Chan. He doesn’t even dare breathe it to Baby, who he knows will never betray him for anything, even if he could speak.

He doesn’t tell anyone, but he still knows.

For a time, he could see a future with Jisoo. He could see them having dinners and anniversaries. Waking up together and falling into the same bed at night. All that domestic shit.

Then Jisoo broke his heart. (And his legs. And left him for dead.)

- Jeonghan isn’t like the other crazies he calls colleagues. There’s nothing wrong with his brain – not like Wonwoo or Jihoon or even Seokmin and Soonyoung. He wasn’t experimented on, wasn’t tortured, wasn’t just born with an unlucky hand. Jeonghan was once normal and he wanted normal things.

Then Orion Pharmaceutical fired him. That was fine, except he’d injected himself with an experimental drug that gave him his abilities. He could talk to plants and he could control them and he was angry. He was so fucking close to what he was working to and they fired him because he wasn’t fast enough. If synthesizing a cure for cancer so damn easy, they should’ve done it themselves!

But of course they wouldn’t. All they cared about was profit and the bottom line. Who cares about the greater good when they could be thinking about their greater wallets.

Jeonghan still grins when he remembers the pictures of the entire board of directors, strung up and hanging off the roof of his company building. It’s crass, compared to the other things he’s capable of, but it’s the one thing he’s proudest of.

- Jisoo came along not long after that. At the time, Jeonghan was still new on the scene and hung around Pleiades and Andromeda for lack of anything else to do. Jisoo had swept in with a cool gaze and sat at Jeonghan’s table while he was nursing a half-empty bottle of beer.

“I’ve seen your work,” Jisoo had said with a polite smile that hid sharp teeth.

Jeonghan had smiled back, unwilling to hide his fangs even if he wasn’t a career villain (yet). “Can’t say I’ve seen yours.”

Jisoo’s smile flattened as his voice sharpened. “Oh,” he said airily, “I’m sure you have.”

- Who hadn’t heard of The Gentleman? He’s a villain pretending to be a hero, excusing bloodshed for justice. As far as anyone can tell, the only real person Jisoo helps is himself. His code of “morals” is about as straight as the Han River.

Still... compared to the other assholes Jeonghan knows, Jisoo is the most normal. He actually has a concept of right and wrong. Sure, it’s twisted as fuck, but it’s still there.

Wonwoo does things however he wants and usually causes as much carnage as he wants. Chan has about six different faces and Jeonghan can’t tell which one he’s talking to until he’s too late. Jihoon is Jeonghan’s best friend, but he cares about doing what’s right about as much as Wonwoo does. Don’t even get him started on Seungcheol.

- It started with small gifts. Rare flowers, a cleared out park just for Jeonghan. Once, Jeonghan got caught by a detective and was handcuffed for two hours before giving them the slip. The next day, Jeonghan found the detective gutted and strung up with his own intestines on City Hall.

Jeonghan doesn’t know when he started finding that romantic. (He knows when; it was when he’d gotten desperate and injected himself with a drug he’d developed after too much Red Bull and too little sleep.)

Then they did the occasional heists together. Not that often – Jisoo is still too droll to work with, what with his morals and his rules – but often enough that they have inside jokes. Jeonghan puts in extra effort into what he wears on those days and Jisoo’s smiles look more genuine.

Then they started fucking.

That’s not a problem. Jeonghan loves fucking. He’d gladly sleep with anyone who gave him the time and date. He knows he’s hot. Of course Jisoo knows he’s hot. He’s a villain, not blind.

The problem is when they meet up outside of heists. Outside of causing trouble just because they can. Jisoo knows where Jeonghan lives and he drops by. Jeonghan slips in and out of Jisoo’s extravagant penthouse like he belongs there.

- Jeonghan thought he was special.

That’s another problem.

He was too used to one side of Jisoo. Too used to having Jisoo alone to himself.

Jeonghan wouldn’t let go of taking down Venus Industries. He couldn’t. He’d found their experiments. He’d known what they were doing to children. (Jeonghan hadn’t been a researcher for years at that point, but he’d held the very, very small hand of a child as they faded, chest rattling, and something in him seethed.) Jisoo couldn’t let go either. He’d found out they were the ones who’d been ferrying all kinds of drugs into the city. Jisoo didn’t care about druggies; he only cared that the druggies didn’t care that they were in Jisoo’s neighbourhood, too out of it to be respectful.

Jeonghan forgot.

He forgot that Jisoo didn’t like “civilian” kills. He didn’t even hesitate; the CEO was dead before he finished his shout, throat pierced through with rose thorns. Jeonghan made sure he died nice and slow (just like the little boy whose hand he held).

If only they’d been alone. Jeonghan had stupidly agreed to join Jisoo’s team because all he could see was the small hand in his and the rattling coughs of a dying child. He hadn’t seen Seokmin or Jihoon crashing into each other as they skidded into the room, didn’t see Soonyoung’s delighted grin or the widening of Seungcheol’s eyes.

All he knows is that one moment he was watching the light in the fat pig’s eyes go out and the next, he was thrown against the wall. There was nothing holding him up.

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan had spat, glaring at Jisoo.

Jisoo’s face was blank. “I told you we only needed to kill the researchers.”

Jeonghan struggled uselessly against Jisoo’s mental bonds. Jisoo had never used his powers on him before. The anger in his chest threatened to sputter out, but Jeonghan stubbornly fed it. He couldn’t let himself feel fear.

“And I told you,” Jeonghan gritted out, “that the problem was the pigs at the top.”

Jisoo’s lips thinned.

Jeonghan had never seen that expression on Jisoo’s face. He’s seen a host of other expressions – happiness, arousal, bliss, contentment – but not this one. Because this expression isn’t meant for Jeonghan.

Disappointment wasn’t meant for Jeonghan.

“You disobeyed me.” There was steel in Jisoo’s voice.

Jeonghan, the fool that he was, quirked an eyebrow. “So what?”

- Jeonghan didn’t feel the pain, at first. He’d been in shock at the nothingness on Jisoo’s voice.

No regret.

No pain.

No emotion.

Jeonghan thinks he didn’t feel his broken legs because he was too busy feeling his broken heart. It had hurt, more than the sharp pain of a broken bone, of seeing jagged white stick out of his flesh and through his jeans.

Nothing will ever hurt more than being thrown in a desert.

Discarded, like trash.

Left behind, like a regret.

- Jihoon came back. He’d come back just before Jeonghan was sure he was dying of blood loss. Jihoon, with his deceptively weak stature, carefully cradling Jeonghan against his chest as he looked for a way to get him to Chan.

Jeonghan was grateful – is still grateful – that Jihoon never said anything about the dirty tear tracks on his cheeks.

He’s still amazed, how quickly the flutterings of love can turn to hate. He sees in his mind’s eye, clear as day, Jisoo’s back as he just left. No I’m sorry, no I’ll come back when you’ve learnt your lesson. He’d just walked away like what they had didn’t mean anything. Like Jeonghan didn’t mean anything.

- These days, Jeonghan would sooner spit on Jisoo’s face than kiss it. He feeds his anger carefully, keeps it roaring so it can never go out. He’ll never let himself be brought down that low by anyone ever again.

He’ll never let Jisoo hurt him like that ever again.

(He still remembers the night before Venus Industries, when Jeonghan had stayed awake as Jisoo slept. He’d brushed Jisoo’s hair out of his face; Jisoo didn’t even stir. They’re both dangerous people, but Jisoo has no problem sleeping soundly with him.

Jeonghan can’t hold back a smile, pressing a kiss to Jisoo’s forehead. “I love you,” he murmurs against the slightly sweaty skin.)

[svt-writers-club]

Happy Halloween!!! no one has requested this au except me and i think that’s very sexy of me, as well as returning from a hiatus. all i can say is it has been a trying year and only getting more trying, but i’m pulling through.

i hope you guys are finding the little things to pull you through too! i know i’ve found mine in svt uwu

- I’ll Be Your Host has a halloween party.

Seungkwan suggests Seokmin as a sexy bunny. Seungkwan is no longer allowed to offer suggestions.

“Come on,” Seungkwan groans, sprawled along Seokmin’s unmade bed. “Maybe if you show up in a skimpy outfit, you’ll get Seungcheol hyung’s attention!”

“I don’t want hyung’s attention,” Seokmin squeaks unconvincingly. He can feel his cheeks heat up and he’s flapping his hands awkwardly.

Seungkwan shoots him a scathing look. Yeah, maybe Seokmin deserves that, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to dress up as some sort of playboy bunny just to get his crush’s attention.

He can do better than that.

- Seokmin ends up going as Ciel from Kuroshitsuji. It takes him a week to find somewhere that does Victorian-era clothes like the anime and another week to find the cane and the eye patch, but he just barely manages it.

The garters sit a little funny on his calves and the heels are a little too high, but he thinks he pulls it off pretty well. He even got the right contacts; one bright blue contact and another violet one with the Faustian mark on it that he got at a discounted price. Seokmin never thought he could pull off anime Victorian preteen as well as this. He even bullies Mingyu into dyeing his hair a dark blue that shows up in bright lights – exactly like an anime protagonist (or Sasuke, as Seungkwan gleefully tells him).

- Seokmin shows up to I’ll Be Your Host and is, naturally, greeted by Seungcheol.

It takes a while for Seokmin to figure out what the elder’s costume is. Seungcheol’s dark hair is slicked back, showing off his forehead. He has a tuxedo on, well-tailored and sculpting all his sharp angles and soft curves. (No, what do you mean Seokmin was staring at his ass? He wasn’t staring at Seungcheol’s ass at all, even though it was right in front of his eyes and damn, his slacks are tight in all the right places.) The double-breasted tuxedo jacket stretches across Seungcheol’s wide chest, with gleaming buttons and a singular chain across the pocket. The small pin on his lapel and white gloves tops off his entire costume.

When Seungcheol notices Seokmin, his eyes light up. Then, his lips curve into a smirk.

“Young master,” Seungcheol says in his deep baritone, sweeping into a low bow. He glances up at Seokmin through his lashes, his red contacts sending something hot through Seokmin’s veins.

“Sebastian,” Seokmin says imperiously, before cracking into a grin. “You look really good, hyung!”

Seungcheol breaks character as well, straightening and giving Seokmin a once-over. (Seokmin is probably imagining the way Seungcheol’s gaze lingers at his thighs.) There’s something about the red eyes and bright grin that is so jarring and attractive.

“You too... young master,” Seungcheol says with a wink.

Seokmin affects a haughty look. “Be good, Sebastian.”

“I can’t help it, my lord.” Seungcheol’s crimson eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as he leans closer, like he’s sharing a secret. Seokmin’s knees definitely don’t go a little weak. “I’m one hell of a butler.”

Seokmin swears his heart stops for a little bit when Seungcheol smirks and licks his lips.

Seungkwan groans, dragging Seokmin away. “God,” he groans, “do your weird master/slave kink on your own time.”

“It’s master/butler,” Seokmin protests reflexively, then flushes. “And it’s not a kink. Ciel is twelve!”

“Thirteen, in the manga,” Mingyu interjects unhelpfully, appearing in his Dracula get up. He looks between Seokmin and Seungcheol with a sly grin. “Oh, hey! Couple costume, huh?”

“We didn’t plan it,” Seokmin says hastily. His cheeks still burn and he wants to bury himself in the ground, except he can’t stare at Seungcheol’s ass in those slacks through the dirt. Ugh, living is such a chore.

- Seungcheol can’t stop staring.

Seokmin looks good, not to mention the fact that he just happens to be the Ciel to Seungcheol’s Sebastian. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s something like fate or destiny, and definitely not any stalking on Seungcheol’s part.

(The stalking was actually on Jihoon’s part – and definitely not at Seungcheol’s behest. Not at all.)

Seungcheol is really doing his best to be a good host. He’s perfected the Sebastian smile, with help from Jihoon and a lot of watching the anime. He places a hand on his left shoulder and bows and a lot of the customers swoon.

Except for Seokmin, of course. When they cross paths, it’s easy for them to slip into the roles they make themselves play, Seokmin’s face affecting a haughty expression as if he were better than Seungcheol. (Seungcheol doesn’t know which he prefers: the cool look he’s afforded when Seokmin is Ciel, or the warmth that bleeds onto his face when he turns back to Seokmin.)

- It was bound to happen. Of course it does. Seungcheol and Seokmin are just chatting, Seokmin with his eyepatch off because the contact lens is a little itchy and needs some air. It’s all for the aesthetics and Seungcheol can’t help but compliment the younger for his commitment to it. Seungcheol himself has a temporary tattoo of the Faustian contract inked onto the back of his left hand.

A nervous girl shuffles up to them, looking over her shoulder where she’s obviously egged on by her friends. She’s dressed as a witch, with a modest black dress and a lace shawl draped over her shoulders.

“Um!” she squeaks, looking between the two of them. “I! Don’t really do this! But! You guys have the best Ciel and Sebastian cosplay ever! Can I take a picture? Of the both of you together?”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. He’s pretty sure the girl is a regular, but the makeup and the big witch’s hat makes her name slip from his mind. Seokmin, on the other hand, looks more embarrassed than suspicious.

“Uh, sure,” Seokmin answers, glancing at Seungcheol with a nervous smile. “Is there any pose you want us to do?” Seokmin turns innocently widened eyes towards Seungcheol. “You don’t mind, do you, hyung?”

I won’t mind anything if you keep looking at me like that, Seungcheol almost says, but instead all he does is smile and shrug.

“I don’t mind,” Seungcheol answers instead.

(He really should’ve noticed the sly smirk on the girl’s black-tinted lips, as well as the apprehensive look Seokmin shoots her.)

- Seungcheol minds. Seungcheol minds this very much.

He wonders if his palm is sweating. That would be embarrassing, because he’s currently covering Seokmin’s right eye with it. He feels his heart beat in double time and he really hopes Seokmin can’t feel it. Then again, he probably can; Seokmin’s back is pressed to his front.

Seungcheol nearly curses when Seokmin swallows. He can feel the younger’s Adam’s apple bob against the crook of his elbow. Seungcheol really hates how intimate this pose is.

Citrus teases Seungcheol’s nose, barely hidden but the lingering ammonia from Seokmin’s dyed hair. Seokmin is warm against Seungcheol’s front, even though the younger has to stoop a little to make the pose the girl asked for. Seokmin’s palms are even warmer, spots of heat seeping through Seungcheol’s jacket.

Okay, so maybe he doesn’t hate the pose as much.

After what seems like too long and not long enough, the girl skips forward. She shows her phone screen. Seungcheol’s breath catches in his throat.

They’re a pretty handsome pair, he has to admit. (Jeonghan says he’s being narcissistic, but that’s rich coming from someone who calls himself an angel.) By the bar, they have impressive lighting that highlights the blue in Seokmin’s hair. Seokmin’s expression is half-lidded, grip limp around Seungcheol’s wrist. Seungcheol’s expression, on the other hand, looks positively predatory. The way he eyes Seokmin looks like he wants to eat him up.

“Wow,” Seokmin breathes, “you’re really good at faking expressions, hyung!”

Seungcheol blinks and wills a blush down. “Yes. Faking. Yeah, uh, that. I’m great.”

The girl looks amusedly between the two of them. Seungcheol’s pretty sure her gaze lingers.

“I’ll send you the picture tomorrow, Seokmin-ah,” she says sweetly with a friendly punch to his shoulder. “What are the odds you’d find the Sebastian to your Ciel, huh?”

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. This girl knows Seokmin?

This time, Seungcheol catches the mischievous glint in her eyes before they’re hidden under the brim of her hat once again. He distinctly feels like he’s been set up, but he can’t even feel that mad. He’ll be replaying having Seokmin pressed to his front over and over again for the next few weeks.

Seokmin beams. Seungcheol can’t be sure, but he thinks there’s the slightest hint of red across Seokmin’s cheekbones. “What are the odds?” he says cheerfully. Seungcheol tries not to look guilty. “I’ll see you in class on Monday!”

- Seokmin receives the picture.

He stares for ten minutes, unblinking.

Then he promptly puts it as his home screen wallpaper.

It’s just because they looked good in costume. Not because it’s Seungcheol. Or because he wishes Seungcheol would look at him like that all the time.

Not at all.

[svt-writers-club]

Girlfriends!JiCheol

- Seungcheol has a very feminine aesthetic. She never cuts her hair above her shoulder blades, she prefers skirts over jeans and high heels are her (not so) secret love affair. She goes for manicures every now and then and usually looks very well-groomed. Always has some makeup on her face and refuses to be caught outside without at least BB cream, mascara and lip tint on.

- Seungcheol does the most sports – soccer, baseball, ssireum and even taekwondo – but she also keeps her hair long. There hasn’t been a time in her life (except for when she was a baby) when her hair didn’t at least brush her shoulder blades.

- (One time, during taekwondo training, she did a 360 kick on her sparring partner and accidentally whipped him in the face with her ponytail. She’s been banned from entering the mat unless her hair is either in a bun or a french braid minimum. Gotta protect the rest of the people.)

- Jihoon’s aesthetic, on the other hand, is very grunge. If she’s not in ripped jeans, she’s in shorts. Her go to outfit is ripped jeans/shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Sometimes she adds a plaid flannel over shirt. She’s either in sneakers or flip flops, there is no in between. Jihoon had long hair once; she’s kept her hair shoulder-length or shorter since then. (She hates the hassle that long hair brings. She can’t be bothered to brush her hair out every day.) She once went outside the house without makeup for a whole month because it was the prep period for the freshman end of year showcase. (Seungkwan literally had to check on Jihoon and make sure she actually looked good for her showcase i.e. showered and is wearing makeup and clothes that have been washed.)

- Seungcheol and Jihoon have been friends since high school. They were on the same soccer team – the only sport that Jihoon was interested in (and that wasn’t sexist... I’m looking at you, baseball team).

- Seungcheol accidentally kicked a ball into Jihoon’s face. Jihoon’s nose didn’t break, but she was out of it for three minutes straight (Soonyoung knows; she timed it). The first thing Jihoon said when she came to: “I think my brain flew out my ears.”

- Seungcheol says she’s still spending the rest of her life making up for that. Jihoon likes to bring it up when Seungcheol’s being particularly annoying, so yeah, she’ll be making up for it for the rest of her life.

- Seungcheol discovers she has a massive crush on Jihoon sometime in her senior year, when Jihoon stops spending so much time in her unnie’s shadow and starts amassing her own brand of popularity, with Seungkwan and Seokmin following after her heels like puppies and Soonyoung, Wonwoo and Junhui stealing Jihoon away at the most inopportune times.

Seungcheol doesn’t realise just how much Jihoon is a part of her life until she’s not always there anymore.

And then she realises how much she wants Jihoon in her life.

(What really cements this crush is the next year, when Jihoon asks Seungcheol to be her date to her senior prom. Jihoon, who’s usually in tattered jeans and beat-up Converse, shows up to Seungcheol’s doorstep in a gorgeous dress and a carefully picked corsage. Jihoon’s not usually a slouch in the looks department, but the lovingly applied eyeliner and the meticulously curled hair shows Seungcheol just how much effort she put into her look.

She definitely knows she’s whipped when she peeks down at Jihoon’s feet and Jihoon’s well-worn pair of dark blue Converse are there.)

- how did Seungcheol ask Jihoon out, you ask? Well let me tell you a thing.

She’s been pining over Jihoon for like a year now. Seungcheol is doing a horrible job of being subtle, but luckily (or unluckily), Jihoon is completely oblivious.

Seungcheol goes to a university that’s an hour away from their high school. She still makes the trip down to walk Jihoon home and study with her. (Jeonghan says she’s whipped – and she’s not wrong – but Seungcheol just wants to be a good unnie... and maybe spend more time with her favourite dongsaeng.)

Seungcheol is reaching the school gates and there Jihoon is, with her hair cropped short and white shorts that barely peek out from under the hem of her oversized sweater. Jihoon looks up and smiles at Seungcheol and the dimples, Seungcheol swears, are what you see when you enter heaven.

“Go out with me,” Seungcheol blurts out, freezing in mortification.

Jihoon – gorgeous, oblivious Jihoon – tilts her head and smiles in confusion. “I mean, we’re already going to get coffee?”

“No, I mean – not as friends,” Seungcheol clumsily amends. Jihoon looks up at her with squinted eyes and Seungcheol has literally never felt more like a useless lesbian in her entire life.

“What are you trying to say?” There’s a hint of annoyance in Jihoon’s voice.

“I wanna hold your hands and maybe kiss you!”

Jihoon blinks. Her lips form a pink O. Her phone dangles from limp fingers.

“That’s kinda gay,” Jihoon says hesitantly. Seungcheol panics; she wonders if it’s too late to pass it off as a joke. Maybe if she dives into the road, a truck will run over her and she doesn’t have to worry about how royally fucked their friendship is now.

“It’s very gay,” Seungcheol’s traitorous mouth blurts out.

“I’d like that,” Jihoon says, smile tentative. She reaches out and hooks her finger in the hem of Seungcheol’s skirt. “Buy me coffee, unnie?”

In hindsight, that is the worst way to ask out your girlfriend, but it’s a good thing Jihoon isn’t interested in cool people or she’d never give Seungcheol the time of day.

[svt-writers-club]

i saw this gif set of jeonghan and the idea of villain!jeonghan pining over villain!jisoo has not left my brain since fear got out sO

i would like to dedicate 거짓말을 해 (Lie Again) to villain!jihan because they’re angsty bastards who are constantly lying to themselves about each other.

*screams from the rooftops* FEAR IS VILLAIN AU IN MUSIC FORM AND THAT IS THE HILL I DIE ON

It’s late at night.

Jihoon is gone again. He doesn’t say where he goes, but Jeonghan knows it’s back to the whorehouse to fuck around with Seungcheol. He’s down in the greenhouse, talking to the sleeping flowers about his plans to fuck over Samsung once again. Those corporate bastards are supporting loggers again, so Jeonghan is going to make them regret it.

There are papers in front of him – blueprints, plans, seeds of plants that he can use in the break-in. They’re spread out on the table he usually uses to clip errant weeds from his beloved flowers.

Next to him, the middlemist reds that Jisoo had gifted him almost a year ago are still flourishing. In the bright light of the greenhouse, they’re vibrant. Jeonghan usually sticks to green vegetation – vines and thorny brambles that he can use as offence and defence. The middlemist reds are vibrant, like blood against the marble floor.

And it reminds Jeonghan of all the mistakes his made. Of the mistakes he made with Jisoo.

His pencils slows, then stopped, still poised over the end of a character. He stares at the slumbering flowers. Absently, he thinks about setting fire to those beautiful, rare flowers – all because they’re connected to Jisoo. It’s not their fault, but Jeonghan has the urge anyway.

“I don’t like you,” he says out loud. His voice echoes in the near-empty room.

Jeonghan imagines the look on Jisoo’s face – the way the florescent lights had haloed his caramel hair as Jeonghan’s legs crumpled under him. Even then, he’d loved Jisoo. Even as he was left behind on that barren desert, his heart still ached for Jisoo.

And he hates it.

He hates himself.

“I don’t like you,” Jeonghan repeats, voice louder and angrier. He’s still glaring at the middlemist reds, watching the ends of the petals start to curl inwards. They’re decaying from the outside-in, Jeonghan using his own magic to leech the nutrients from those beautifully crimson flowers.

The red leeches out of the petals, turning brown and ugly. (Just like Jeonghan’s heart as he watched Jisoo’s back get smaller and smaller.)

“I don’t want to see you.”

The flower curls on itself, the stem rapidly losing stiffness as it loses energy.

Another memory – Jisoo’s head pillowed against Jeonghan’s pillow, the sunlight streaming in. His face is peaceful as he slumbers, unknowing of Jeonghan’s fond gaze.

Jeonghan wants to go back to those days. To when loving Jisoo wasn’t such a double-edged sword.

“I hate you,” he chokes out.

The flowers shudder, then still. All the petals but the very innermost ones are shrivelled and dead. It looks like it’s bleeding on the inside. (Jeonghan feels like he’s bleeding on the inside, except there are no open wounds on him.)

He can’t do it. Jeonghan can’t bring himself to kill the flower. It’s not because of it’s rarity or it’s beauty; it’s because it’s from him.

“I hate you,” Jeonghan whispers, but the lie is sour on his tongue.

He reaches a trembling hand to the half-dead flower. Within a single breath, colour bleeds back into the petals, the middlemist reds flourishing once again.

Tears sting Jeonghan’s eyes. He can say he hates Jisoo all he wants – that he wants to break him down and tear him apart, make him suffer the million hells Jeonghan had to – but it can never make him forget that he loves him. Jeonghan loved – loves – Jisoo with an all-consuming inferno that he can never rid himself of. Jisoo is like a stain that he can never erase.

Jisoo haunts him, with every word and every breath.

Even in death, Jeonghan thinks Jisoo will still be the one thing he will never forget. He could forget everything else, but he could never erase the memory of how sweet loving Jisoo was – and of how painful loving him will always be.

I love him, he thinks desperately, and it’s killing me.

[svt-writers-club]

Ask games #5: last one I promise!!! 28,30,33 for jihan I’m hopeless supernaturals AU. also yes everyone thinks you’re a hoe for jihan bc I keep requesting them. Muahahhaahhahahaha

you have absolutely no self-control you know that? but i guess it is about time i write jihan for hopeless supernaturals au >_>

#28: “Stop poking me!”#30: “Could you be like…a little less idiotic?”#33: “Do you trust me?”

There’s a running bet for how long it’ll take Seungkwan and Hansol to get their shit together. It ranges from three months (Jihoon and Soonyoung) to four years (Minghao – but only because he’s not allowed to say never). Jisoo and Jeonghan are hoping they’ll get together within the month so they can collect on the pot that’s growing outrageously. The current amount is somewhere in the high three hundred thousands.

Jeonghan wants it.

He sighs loudly, cheek pressed against his hand as he watches the lunch crowd pass by the window. The cafe is bustling, but he has a not-date with Jisoo in ten minutes.

Jisoo, the absolute walking dream, walks in with pastries and an innocuously filled flask in hand, as well as Jeonghan’s favourite mug of tea.

“What’re you thinking about?” Jisoo inquires, sliding into the empty seat with a serene smile.

Slipping a love potion into Jisoo’s drink is totally unethical, Jeonghan reminds himself. He takes a loud slurp of his drink so he has time to compose himself. “Love potions,” he answers honestly. “Our time limit for Operation VernKwan is coming up soon. I don’t wanna lose out on three hundred thousand won.”

Jisoo quirks an eyebrow, delicately biting into a mini apple tart. His elongated fang glints in the afternoon light and Jeonghan has to resist the urge to run his fingers over it like he wants to. Yeah, he’s kinda got it bad, but it could be worse. Unlike someone (Jihoon), he can at least admit when he has a crush. It’s exhausting being friends with a pack of werewolves that have no sense of emotional maturity.

“I don’t think that’s ethical,” Jisoo muses. There’s a slight sheen of caramelised sugar on his lips and Jeonghan aches.

“Who cares about ethical? I want my money.”

Even as Jeonghan says that, he softens the announcement with a cheeky grin. Of course it’s not ethical; what’s the point of being in love if it’s not real? He hums thoughtfully, eyeing Jisoo over the rim of his mug as the vampire finishes off his tart.

Jisoo meets his gaze, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I think it’s at least worth ten bucks.” Jeonghan reaches over – giving into his own urges – and swipes the crystallised sugar from Jisoo’s lips. He lets his thumb linger. Maybe if he pretends hard enough, he doesn’t have to act like he’s being that pathetic.

Jisoo’s cheeks are red in the sunlight streaming through the windows. With the bustle of people around them, Jeonghan can almost trick himself into thinking that Jisoo might feel the same way.

“I was thinking that maybe we should lock Hansol and Seungkwan in a room and make them work it out,” Jeonghan says eventually, absently licking the sugar off his thumb. (Jisoo’s eyes follows his tongue hungrily, but Jeonghan is too deep in his thoughts to notice.)

Jisoo clears his throat. “Minghao already tried. Seungkwan ended up crying and Hansol ended up biting Mingyu.”

“Oh.” Jeonghan wrinkles his nose. “What a crybaby.”

“Jeonghan!” Jisoo admonishes, poking Jeonghan’s arm. “Be nice. Sirens don’t do well in enclosed spaces.”

“Let’s just handcuff them together,” the witch suggests.

Jisoo pokes him again, a little harder this time.

“No! That’s not nice. What if they have to go to the bathroom?”

Jeonghan waggles his eyebrows in response. He earns another poke, this time to his bottom rib. He chuckles, slapping Jisoo’s hand away.

“Are you sure a love potion is off the table?” Jeonghan says, almost genuine. It’s so pathetic to see Hansol mooning after Seungkwan the way he does.

Jisoo rolls his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “Could you be, like, a little less… idiotic?” He punctuates his statement with another poke, this time higher up on Jeonghan’s ribs.

Jeonghan barks out a surprised laugh, curling away from the vampire’s evil fingers. “Stop poking me! You’re making it hard to think.”

Jisoo raises his eyebrows, mischief glinting in his amber eyes. “Oh, are you ticklish?”

He wriggles his fingers threateningly. Jeonghan flinches away out of self preservation. He narrows his eyes at Jisoo.

“If you tickle me again,” Jeonghan states, “I’ll hex you. Don’t think I won’t, bitch.”

“No, you won’t,” Jisoo says confidently. There’s a smirk on his lips and Jeonghan wishes he didn’t find it so attractive.

Jeonghan huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I won’t.”

Jisoo hums under his breath, a wordless song that was probably around longer than Jeonghan has been alive. In times like these, Jisoo feels like something ethereal – like something he isn’t fit to touch.

“I wouldn’t give them a love potion. It wouldn’t work,” Jeonghan says after watching Jisoo pluck at another mini tart sitting between them. It’s technically Jeonghan’s, but he doesn’t really like sweets, so he slides the treat over to Jisoo just to watch his face light up. “There’s already love between them.”

Yeah, Jeonghan’s bad at a lot of spellcasting. He can’t do hexes or curses, nor is he particularly good at potions. He can’t do herbal magic, nor crystal magic. He has a wand, but it’s gathering dusk in his bedside drawer, since he doesn’t do duelling magic that well and most potions already have the magic imbued in the ingredients. He’s not the best witch, but he can sense love and there’s more than enough of it between Hansol and Seungkwan. They just need to get their heads out of their asses.

“Can you see it?” Jisoo asks, tilting his head curiously. He looks like a cat, curling up contentedly in the class across from Jeonghan.

“See what?” Jeonghan laughs, sipping his tea. “The love? Yeah, sometimes. When it’s strong enough.”

Jisoo’s eyes are razor sharp as he leans forward. “Do you trust me?” he says abruptly.

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure,” he snorts, fiddling with his mug absently.

“Close your eyes.”

There’s a weird emotion flashing through Jisoo’s eyes. “I don’t know if I should,” Jeonghan jokes nervously, but shuts his eyes anyway. He doesn’t have anything to be nervous about.

The cafe is a lot quieter now. The lunch crowd has come and gone, staying only long enough to get their food and drinks before leaving. The scent of coffee permeates the very walls, probably too saturated with the scent to ever be washed away.

And the lips pressed against Jeonghan’s are soft and cold.

Jeonghan gasps, eyes flying open. Jisoo is right there, eyes dark and unsure. He’s only mere inches away, his breath brushing Jeonghan’s lips. He’s like marble and art and everything Jeonghan doesn’t deserve.

“Is this okay?” Jisoo whispers. His eyelashes kiss his cheekbones as he blinks.

Love potions would never work on me, Jeonghan thinks, helpless lost. I’m too in love with you.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Jeonghan breathes, leaning forward to capture Jisoo’s lips once more.

Hansol and Seungkwan can figure themselves out.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[svt-writers-club]

i’m studying right now but i’ve started staring into space and thinking about that one seokcheol ask i was given like forever ago so here’s a little seokcheol!cafe/host au for all eight of you seokcheol enthusiasts

(what do you mean i’m projecting onto both seokmin and seungcheol at the same time, i would absolutely never do that *sweats*)

- Seungcheol is the very handsome and very enthusiastic host of a cafe that he opened with his best friend Jihoon

- he doesn’t really have a uniform, but every Friday, Saturday and Sunday, he has themes for what he’s gonna wear

- so far he’s been a pirate, a catboy, the literal devil (complete with those little fake horns on the top of his cute little head) and that one time he dressed up as Edward from Twilight and everyone was super into it (definitely helped that his shirt was ahem ripped in certain places)

- on weekdays, he usually dresses casual, although that could mean anything from a simple black t-shirt and skinny jeans (with a lil apron because he’s also like The Waiter) to a dress shirt and jean jacket with denim cutoffs to a white t-shirt and overalls.

- anyway Seokmin is from the university down the road and he found out about the cafe, I’ll Be Your Host, when Seungkwan and Mingyu dragged him into it.

Mingyu has an embarrassing crush on Soonyoung from the time the waiter had spilled his drink all over his lap and proceeded to accidentally palm him over his shorts and Seungkwan is a masochists who likes tiny, angry, blonde cafe owners (Jihoon, he’s talking about Jihoon).

Seokmin took one look at Seungcheol and proceeded to walk into the glass door at the entrance, hard enough that his nose started to bleed.

- actually Seokmin’s crush on Seungcheol is also pretty embarrassing because Seokmin has a thing about blood so he immediately swooned in Seungcheol’s arms from the blood loss and blood phobia and the first thing Seungcheol blurted was, “I didn’t believe in love at first sight until you fell for me.”

Seokmin’s more embarrassed that he actually found that cheesy pickup line attractive.

(Jihoon absolutely makes fun of Seungcheol for his first words to the cute biomed student that brained himself on their glass door, but he doesn’t really get to talk. The first thing he ever said to Seungkwan was, “What the hell is wrong with your hair?” and Seungkwan was having a Bad Day so he ended up crying into his hazelnut latte and Jihoon will forever feel bad about that.)

(Seungkwan will absolutely be making Jihoon pay for that comment for the rest of his life, but I digress.)

- either way, Seokmin has a crush on the ridiculously handsome host of I’ll Be Your Host and that’s part of the reason why he spends every free afternoon at the cafe. Well, other than the fact that the coffee is really good and their baker Jisoo makes really great pastries. (Eventually, Hansol ends up as part of their little hopeless trio because Hansol has had the biggest crush on Jisoo ever but is literally unable to function any time he’s faced with Jisoo. So far, all he’s managed to say to Jisoo is “hi”. It – it’s a start?????)

- I’ll Be Your Host ends up having an open mic night on the one Saturday night that Seokmin doesn’t have work, so Seungkwan drags him over to the signup sheet that Seungcheol is (of course) manning.

“Oh, it’s you!” Seungcheol says cheerfully, but thankfully doesn’t elaborate.

“Hi,” Seokmin says shyly with a nervous grin. Seokmin is not usually a quiet person, but he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Seungcheol any more than he already has.

“We’re going up there,” Seungkwan says imperiously, scrawling his name and Seokmin’s, followed by the song they’re going to sing – Huhgak’s Monodrama.

Seungcheol ignores Seungkwan in favour of grinning at Seokmin and, well, Seokmin’s poor heart can’t really stand much more of that, so he ends up saying a hurried bye and zooming away with Seungkwan in tow.

“Hyung,” Seungkwan says pitifully, “you’re hopeless.”

Seokmin sputters. It’s true but that doesn’t mean he should say it.

- now, on Seungcheol’s end, he’s been trying to find a way to talk to the cute guy who walked into the door and swooned in his arms, but he’s been unsuccessful. The cutie, Seokmin, never comes in alone; he’s always surrounded by his friends and, well, it’s hard to flirt with a guy when all his friends are watching.

It’s not like Seungcheol is shy or anything. He just – he’s got some class, alright?

(Seungcheol is actually secretly very shy and would rather curl up in a ball and eat dirt than have that much attention on him at once. That’s why Soonyoung is usually the host of all the events they have while Seungcheol handles with the other front of house stuff.)

He just wants to be able to talk to Seokmin and make him laugh and watch his lips curl into a grin. He doesn’t have it bad. He’s just sentimental.

(He’s been watching Seokmin for a little while and he likes the way Seokmin’s eyes curl into crescents and the way his laugh always sounds so joyful.)

- Seungcheol doesn’t fall in love easily. He’s usually cautious – it’s why he and Jihoon make such good friends. He holds his cards close to his chest and doesn’t let people in easily, even if he’s friendly and quick to smile.

But there’s something about Seokmin, their newest regular – something in his smile and laugh and the way he usually has a smart little quip or insightful anecdotes on the moments Seungcheol can get him alone – that draws Seungcheol in. He’s not in love, but he thinks that he’d like to find something that warm and sticky and gooey with Seokmin.

- well, he’s not in love until he sees Seokmin pick up his microphone and sing that first note.

Seungcheol has been around a lot of good singers in his life. Heck, Jihoon has a really pretty voice and Jisoo isn’t half bad either. They have similar tones, but pleasant nonetheless.

To Seungcheol, listening to Seokmin sing is like hearing a siren sing.

He’s enamoured from the first syllable, eyes widening and mouth going slack. His heart beats just that little faster and butterflies flutter in his stomach because wow, Seokmin can really sing and that’s extremely attractive.

There’s something confident about Seokmin too, as he stands on their little makeshift stage with microphone in hand. Seungcheol doesn’t even realise he’s dropped his clipboard until Jihoon is nudging it into his hands with a knowing look.

- after his performance, Seokmin looks exhilarated and breathless. Jihoon whisks Seungkwan away towards his friends and for once, Seokmin is alone.

And Seungcheol is right there.

“Wow,” Seungcheol breathes. Tonight, he’s in a tailored pinstripe suit, his hair carefully tousled. There’s a sleek, black tie nestled under his collarbone and a pocket square resting in the pocket of his jacket. Tonight’s look, it seems, is mafia inspired and Seokmin can’t help but notice how good Seungcheol looks.

“Thanks,” Seokmin replies, just as breathlessly. His eyes dart down to Seungcheol’s tie, where it’s little crooked and skewed. “Did you like it?”

“You have the voice of a god,” Seungcheol says bluntly.

Seokmin’s cheeks instantly turn red, but he can’t help but let out a pleased giggle. He knows he has a good voice – he’s had years of vocal lessons under his belt – but it’s really something when your big time crush is praising you for it.

“Thank you, Seungcheol-ssi,” Seokmin replies warmly.

Seungcheol grins bashfully. “You don’t have to be so formal with me. You’re one of our regulars, you know. And I...” I look forward to seeing you every time you come in.

Seungcheol blinks dumbly. He doesn’t know where that thought came from, but it sets off a warm burn in his chest.

“Okay... hyung.” Seokmin grins brightly at that. Something in Seungcheol stirs at that bright smile and the curve of Seokmin’s eyes and cheekbones.

Seokmin takes a step closer and Seungcheol’s breath hitches.

“Your tie is crooked,” Seokmin says, voice low from the proximity. “Let me help you with that.”

Seungcheol doesn’t know if he says anything, because Seokmin is leaning in close to fix his crooked tie. His fingers are nimble as they brush Seungcheol’s collar and he’s so whipped. Seungcheol finds himself mesmerised with the flutter of Seokmin’s eyelashes and the faint whiff of product from Seokmin’s meticulously styled hair.

Before he realises what is happening, Seokmin is stepping back with a satisfied smile. His hands are a gentle pressure on Seungcheol’s shoulders as he smooths down his collar and jacket.

“There. Now you look like a real mafia boss.”

“Thanks,” Seungcheol croaks out.

Before he can decide on doing something embarrassing, like blurt out a love confession or pull Seokmin in for a kiss, one of Seokmin’s loudmouthed friends is calling him over, breaking the moment.

Seokmin lets out a breath, eyes warm in the dim light of the cafe.

“I’ll see you around, Seungcheol hyung,” Seokmin calls out cheerfully, walking away without knowing that he’s actually taking Seungcheol’s heart with him.

Yeah... Seungcheol is definitely whipped.

[svt-writers-club]

mmmM can i request a soft fluffy cat cafe!wonhui oneshot in which junhui works there and wonu is a customer pls 👉👈

honestly i saw cat cafe and wonhui and i think i got catapulted into a separate astral plane from how much i’m into it so here’s a little one shot where junhui works in a cat cafe and wonwoo works as a physics teacher at the high school down the road

Every Friday, Wonwoo makes his way into the little cat cafe down the street to the high school he teaches at. He waves at Jihoon, who’s manning the counter again. There’s a white cat ear headband nestled in his ruffled blonde hair – probably wrestled onto him by his manager, Seungcheol.

Wonwoo has made it a habit to finish his marking down in Catstronomy every Friday for the past four months. He always orders the same thing – a pot of Earl Grey and whatever sweet cake Jisoo made – and settles down in the same booth. He’s used to his routines and he doesn’t like anything that breaks them.

“Are you a singularity?” a smooth voice asks just as Wonwoo slips into his booth. “Not only are you attractive, but the closer I get to you, the faster time seems to slip by.“

Wonwoo grins up lazily at the voice, catching the smug grin on Junhui’s face. “Hey, Junhui,” he answers, ignoring the pickup line – yet again another routine. His eyes flick up to the black cat ears sticking out of Junhui’s artfully tousled hair. “My usual, yeah?”

“Anything for you, sweetcheeks,” Junhui answers easily, scribbling into his notebook and shooting Wonwoo a wink. “You’re early today.”

“Got kicked out for Christmas break,” Wonwoo chuckles, grin widening when a Russian Blue hops up onto his lap and curls up for a nap, erupting in purrs.

Junhui notices, the edges of his smile softening. “Pureun missed you,” he murmurs, reaching down to pet the cat nestled in Wonwoo’s lap. Wonwoo flushes, eyes trained on the ridiculously fake ears on Junhui’s head so he doesn’t get caught up in thinking about Junhui’s musky cologne or how he’s so close that all it would take was a tilt of his head for them to be kissing –

But of course, Junhui doesn’t think of him that way. Junhui flirts the way Wonwoo rambles on about physics and equations. He doesn’t want to make things awkward by taking it too seriously.

They’ve been playing this back and forth ever since Wonwoo stumbled into the cafe, trapped by the rain and his lack of umbrellas. (He’d been enamoured by Junhui too, who’d gotten him from the first look what the cat dragged in, Jihoon-ah!) Wonwoo knows Junhui is interested, on some level, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of interest Wonwoo has for him; he doesn’t even really understand why Junhui would be interested in him, a high school physics teacher.

“Are you okay?” Junhui asks softly, lips pressed into a concerned line. Wonwoo blinks, cheeks flushing at how preoccupied he was being.

“I – I’m fine,” he stutters, clearing his throat. “I was just – lost in thought.”

Junhui chuckles – a soft sound that doesn’t sound at all mocking. “Don’t get your head too lost in the clouds,” he teases.

Wonwoo lets out a nervous laugh, immediately looking away as Junhui eases out of his personal space. He shakes his head a little – clearing his head – before smiling weakly up at Junhui. “I’ll be okay.”

He runs his fingers through Pureun’s fur idly, gathering some of his wit before pulling out his marking and falling back into a haze of scribbling Xs and Os onto worksheets. He barely notices when Junhui returns with his tea and cakes, jumping when Junhui clears his throat.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks. There’s a nervous edge to his smile that Wonwoo finds achingly charming and he’s shaking his head before he can think about the repercussions of sitting across your – crush for the next hour or so.

It’s not surprise that another two cats end up making their way to Wonwoo’s private booth, fighting for Junhui’s attention while the waiter tries to finish his meal. Wonwoo can’t help but keep sneaking glances at Junhui, grinning every time Junhui grunts at a cat that nearly manages to grab his lunch.

At this point, Wonwoo could probably make a dumb joke or ask Junhui out and maybe Junhui would say yes and they’d be… well, they’d be something. If only Wonwoo wasn’t so goddamn awkward.

“Hey, Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo looks up, humming distractedly because he needs to re-look Seoyeon’s equation – she’s got the right answer, but her method is all wrong. His brain grinds to a halt as Junhui grins at him, a grouchy Persian held up next to his face.

“I’d say you’re a purr-fect lunch date.”

Wonwoo snorts, nearly jolting Pureun out of his lap with the undignified laugh. He knows he shouldn’t be so charmed by such lame jokes, but it’s also been easy to amuse him.

Suddenly, he freezes.

“Wonwoo?” Junhui asks hesitantly, a hand resting on Wonwoo’s own.

“D-did you say d-d-date?” Wonwoo chokes out. Pink suffuses Junhui’s cheeks as he drops the Persian he was torturing.

“Uh – you know. Figure of speech,” he mumbles. Wonwoo tries not to feel disappointed. (He fails miserably.)

They sit in awkward silence for a moment. Pureun blinks up at him, eyes narrowing before he shakes himself and hops off Wonwoo’s lap gracefully. He should probably say something – brush it off as a joke or not take things so seriously like he always does, but he just… doesn’t.

Wonwoo’s just staring down at Kihyun’s paper blankly, tapping the butt of his pen against the table. Just ask him out, Wonwoo tells himself, glancing at Junhui. What’s the worst that could happen?

Other than getting rejected or Junhui laughing in his face, of course.

Thankfully, Junhui says something before Wonwoo can shove his foot into his mouth any further than it already has. “Um, want to meet up so I can excite your natural frequency?”

A weak smile tugs at Wonwoo’s lips. “We’re already meeting right now.”

Junhui’s smile is bashful, all toothy and dimpled on his right cheek. He laughs into his mouth, eyes crinkling into crescents slightly. “Well, yeah, but that’s ‘cause I work here.” He pauses, eyes widening. “Only if you want to! I don’t want you to feel like you have to – ”

“I’d love to,” Wonwoo blurts out, then backtracks, trying not to sound too desperate (not that it helps). “I mean, yeah, sure, sounds fun.”

“Great!” Junhui chirps, leaning over the table and right into Wonwoo’s personal space. He holds his breath, eyes wide as Junhui presses what must be the world’s softest lips to his cheek. “I end at six, so we can grab dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” is what Wonwoo had wish he’d said.

Instead, his mouth runs before his brain can catch up and he ends up saying, “Well, according to the second law of thermodynamics, you’re supposed to share your hotness with me.”

There’s a heartbeat when Junhui is too close and his lips twitch. Then, Junhui lets out the most attractively unattractive snort. “I’d hate to leave you in the cold, babe,” he quips, tapping Wonwoo’s nose cheekily. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, yeah?”

Wonwoo stares at Junhui’s retreating back, gaze falling to the fake cat tail that’s swinging in front of Junhui’s ass, from where it’s tied to a belt loop. There are worst ways to react to a kiss, he supposes.

[svt-writers-club]

The Nanny AU where Seungcheol is a rich single father of three boys – Wonwoo (aged fourteen), Mingyu, (aged twelve) and Hansol (aged nine) – and is in desperate need of a nanny who can reel in his three rambunctious children. Enter Jihoon, a struggling music producer who gets kicked out of a company he helped set up and is now out on the street, jobless.

He’s going door-to-door selling toilet cleaners (as a favour to Soonyoung) and ends up on Seungcheol’s doorstep, all the way in Gangnam. He ends up solving a dispute between Wonwoo and Mingyu (”I know you touched my three-hundred-dollar leather jacket, you little snot!”) and also helping Hansol through a crisis. Seungcheol, at his wit’s end and pleasantly surprised by how easily this tiny man calmed the raging storm in his household, immediately hires Jihoon as his nanny.

Naturally, being the nanny includes moving into the Choi family’s two story mansion, getting his own room and en-suite bathroom as well as getting paid twice the amount of money selling toilet cleaners, all to watch a couple of snot-nosed brats. How hard could it be? (Very hard. Oh, Jihoon, you fool.)

Jeonghan is Seungcheol’s butler/housekeeper who is constantly sassing Seungcheol because he knows Seungcheol would never fire him, since they’re friends too. Jeonghan immediately takes to Jihoon and more or less adopts him.

“I’m adopting him,” Jeonghan announces to the household the next morning. No one bats an eyelid despite the ridiculousness of the statement. Seungcheol deigns to respond with an eye roll.

“You get used to it,” Seungcheol says sympathetically. Jihoon absolutely does not think he’ll get used to it, but it’s worth a shot.

Jisoo is Seungcheol’s business partner; together with Seungcheol, the two of them produce plays. They have yet to make a hit, but good things come to those who work hard. Jisoo is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, hiding scathing remarks behind an angelic smile. He doesn’t care much for Seungcheol’s offspring, although he does have quite the obvious subtle crush on Seungcheol himself... which naturally leads to him constantly trying to get into Seungcheol’s pants (unsuccessfully). Jeonghan, who already ships Seungcheol and Jihoon together, will not stand for Jisoo trying to marry Seungcheol and so JiHan are constantly at each other’s throats (Enemies to Lovers, anyone?).

[svt-writers-club]

ooo in that case pls do share thy hcs ft jihan and jicheol 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

hey hi did u say jicheol because i’m a jicheol slut and i’m always down for jicheol (and jihan of course, gotta feed the masses)

i’m so sorry for taking so long to reply ;-; i’m very bad at writing but even worse at time management ednejkdjd

if you don’t mind, i’m gonna use this to touch on the nanny au that i posted forever ago then left to rot in a hole uwu

JiCheol

- Seungcheol finds Jihoon infuriatingly attractive. Like seriously, sometimes they’ll be at the table, eating breakfast, and he’ll find himself looking at Jihoon’s pink lips and he’s heard absolutely nothing of what Jeonghan just asked him. It’s lead to him saying yes to a lot of raises and/or time off for Jeonghan.

- Hansol thinks Jihoon is the coolest hyung and wants to be exactly like him. When Jihoon’s puttering around the house, you can find Hansol three steps behind him, asking questions about music and Jihoon answering him like Hansol’s an adult. Seungcheol heard them as they walked by his office and Seungcheol clutched his chest because his youngest son trailing after Jihoon like a duckling was such a precious sight.

- “I know what you’re doing,” Jihoon deadpans, lounging on the couch as Jeonghan dust around the living room. “It’s not gonna work.”

“What’s not going to work?” Jeonghan asks innocently. “I have absolutely no ill intentions whatsoever.”

“But you do have intentions.”

“I’m a butler, Jihoon. I always have intentions.”

“It’s not gonna work,” Jihoon insists, sitting up. “It’s not! I don’t like him like that.” Jihoon pauses as Jeonghan shoots him a look of disbelief. “I don’t!”

“Sure,” Jeonghan drawls, glancing at the clock. “So you don’t mind if Seungcheol and Jisoo go out for a ‘meeting’,” Jeonghan even does those cheesy air quotes that he knows annoys Jihoon, “at the most romantic restaurant in Seoul?”

Jihoon’s eyes narrow, even as his ears turn red. “He what,” he says flatly.

“Theoretically speaking,” Jeonghan demurs. Jihoon’s hands unclench from his knees. “Seungcheol would never say yes. He’s not that idiotic.”

(Seungcheol is that idiotic and Jihoon almost wishes he could’ve seen the look on Seungcheol’s face when he realised it was a date. Unfortunately – or fortunately - Hansol comes down with an awful stomach flu and Seungcheol spends the whole night in bed with his youngest son, reading Hansol all the stories he wants and eventually falling asleep in the too-small bed.

It’s a very domestic image and Jihoon can’t help but run his fingers through Seungcheol’s hair, even as he drapes a blanket over the both of them and presses a kiss to Hansol’s too-warm forehead.)

- Wonwoo and Mingyu think Jihoon and Seungcheol are perfect for each other. They don’t care that having two dads is weird; Jihoon hyung is like a mom anyway, with his soft voice and even softer hands that know how to soothe their pains – be it emotional or physical.

Hansol just thinks Appa should hold hands with Jihoon hyung, because it’s really obvious that he wants to.

- “What do you mean you have a date.” Seungcheol can’t help but gape. Jihoon’s standing in front of him, requesting for Saturday night off instead of Sunday. Because he has a date. A date.

“It means I have a date.” There’s an annoyed crease on Jihoon’s forehead. Seungcheol should tread carefully. He should say the right thing.

“A date,” Seungcheol parrots, trying to wrap his mind around that fact.

“Yes, a date,” Jihoon reiterates. Uh oh, he’s doing his I’m-very-annoyed-right-now foot tap. “You know, when two adults like each other very much and one asks the other out for a meal or an activity.”

“I know what a date is,” Seungcheol snaps, then takes a deep breath. Jihoon shoots him a sharp look that reads ‘really? Could’ve fooled me’. “Saturday night?”

Seungcheol is stalling. He’s stalling because he doesn’t want to say yes. He’s trying to think of an excuse why Jihoon can’t go on a date, but he’s drawing a blank. There’s no particular reason he should say no.

“You’re stalling,” Jihoon points out. Now he has his arms crossed. His lips are in the I’m-upset-with-you frown. Seungcheol is doing everything wrong.

“Hansol needs to be tucked in,” Seungcheol blurts out. Jihoon’s lips are now thinning, indicating Seungcheol is in Big Trouble. Ah, fuck. 

“Hansol is going to a sleepover and doesn’t need to be tucked in,” Jihoon says scathingly. “Gimme the day off.”

“No.” Seungcheol is officially panicking. He really doesn’t want Jihoon to go on that date. What if he loses his nanny?

“For god’s sake, Cheol, give him the night off,” Jeonghan’s voice sighs, from the intercom at Seungcheol’s desk. “The two of you are pathetic.”

“Thank you for eavesdropping,” Seungcheol snaps before shutting off the intercom. “Fine, Jihoon. Take your night off. Have fun on your date.”

Jihoon scowls petulantly. “Thank you. I will.” The nanny turns on his heel and stomps away, making sure to let the whole house hear his ire when he slams the door behind him.

Seungcheol fucked up.

JiHan

- Jihoon and Jeonghan get drunk together exactly twice – both times when the Choi family is out on holiday and the two of them stay in the mansion to look after it. Jeonghan breaks out the good bourbon and the two of them swap stories over way too much alcohol. (Jihoon brings out the vodka he keeps stashed in his room for when the kids are being little assholes. It’s gone within the hour.)

“Jisoo has, like, a stupidly nice ass,” Jeonghan slurs, squinting at his phone. “You know, for someone who doesn’t have an ass at all.”

“You think Jisoo has a good ass?” Jihoon snorts, nearly spilling his vodka all over the countertop. “I thought you hated him.”

“I hate that he’s, like, trying to get into Seungcheol’s pants. Jisoo’s got a stupidly one-track mind, y’know?” Jeonghan takes a swig from his empty glass. “Fuck.”

“Seungcheol has nice pants,” Jihoon says distractedly, stumbling around the kitchen to find the rum bottle Wonwoo tried to sneak up to his room. “But anyway, you think Jisoo is hot?”

Jeonghan’s nose wrinkles. “I mean, objectively speaking, Jisoo has a nice – face. And his body – well, it’s scrawny but it’s not bad.”

“He has abs,” Jihoon mentions gleefully, brandishing the mostly full bottle of rum stashed in the barely used microwave. “I mean, they’re barely abs, but they’re there.”

“Okay.” Jeonghan’s voice sounds muffled and strained. When Jihoon turns, Jeonghan is face down on the table, ears and neck blotched with red. “Okay. Didn’t need to know that. I’m okay.” (He was not okay. Not okay at all.)

- Jeonghan definitely has something of a crush on Jisoo, but he refuses to acknowledge it. It’s easier to hate Jisoo for being a glory hog rather than admit that he’s kinda jealous of Seungcheol for being able to monopolise all of Jisoo’s attention like that.

Jihoon frankly thinks it’s pathetic and he’s constantly sending looks when Jeonghan’s face scrunches up. Jeonghan refuses to believe he’s worse than Jihoon and Seungcheol’s constant dancing around each other.

- Jisoo and Jeonghan get drunk together exactly once. It was a confusing chain of events that led to them being locked in the wine cellar on Jihoon’s father’s birthday, that they end up having at the Choi manor.

Jeonghan tries the door, finds it locked, and decides fuck it. He makes himself comfortable and unearths a bottle of whiskey – the good kind – from one of the shelves. Jisoo is still at the door, trying to kick it open in an act of desperate futility.

“Take a seat, princess. We’re not getting out right now. With the party upstairs, they won’t notice we’re gone for a couple hours,” Jeonghan drawls, uncapping the whiskey and taking a healthy swig. The alcohol burns a trail down his throat.

“We can’t just stay here,” Jisoo hisses, voice hoarse from screaming. “Don’t just sit there and drink.”

Jeonghan snorts, rolling his eyes. “Come and join me down here once you’re done sitting on your high horse.”

After another twenty minutes, Jisoo eventually concedes and settles down next to Jeonghan. He reaches out and takes a swig from the bottle sitting between them.

“I had plans tonight,” Jisoo says mournfully, once they’ve demolished a third of the whiskey. “I had a date.”

“Someone actually wants to date you?” Jeonghan replies scathingly, looking everywhere but at Jisoo. Although Jeonghan doesn’t want to admit it, Jisoo looks especially good tonight, with his gelled up hair and – fuck, is that lip balm on his lips? They look especially kissable tonight, even under the shitty lights of the cellar.

Jisoo sniffs delicately as he takes another gulp of whiskey. Jeonghan finds his traitorous eyes taking in the bob of Jisoo’s throat as he swallows.

“I’ll have you know,” Jisoo says primly, “that I’m a fairly desirable match.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeonghan mutters.

In an utter cliche, they reach for the bottle at the same time. Their hands touch and their eyes snap to each other. Jeonghan never noticed, but they’re pretty close to each other. If he leans in just a little bit more, they could be kissing.

“You hate me,” Jisoo whispers. His eyes glitter in the dim lighting, his eyelashes looking especially long this close.

“I – no. I don’t,” Jeonghan murmurs. “I don’t hate you at all.” He leans in, just that little bit more – 

And the door slams open, the sounds of the party filtering into the previously silent cellar.

“Whoa,” Mingyu wheezes, eyes wide as he looks between the two of them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“NO!” Jisoo and Jeonghan yell.

[svt-writers-club]

Mingyu and Minghao’s first meeting: 

Minghao hates being an incubus. He really does. He hates that he needs sex to stay fed.

Oh no, the problem isn’t the having sex part. That – Minghao very much enjoys that. He has no problems – no moral qualms – about having sex with innocents to sustain himself. In fact, Minghao likes sex. He is, at his very core, a sexual being.

The real problem is getting someone into bed.

Like most demons, Minghao has a fight or fuck switch. He’d very much like to figure out how to unstick his switch from permanently being on fight. He still can’t figure out how he goes from thinking I’m gonna suck his dick to saying “I’ll punch you in the face”. It’s a mystery and he swears it’s all his parents’ fault. Why couldn’t he have been born a regular demon, like Junhui? He’d much rather go around corrupting souls then unsuccessfully trying to suck the life energy out of people through sex.

That’s why Minghao finds himself at the bookstore across the cafe he sometimes work at, even though it’s Monday morning and he has a sleep-deprivation hangover. He’s also starving and there’s only so long he can subsist off human food, sexual tension (there’s a surprising amount of it just floating around their little street) and caffeine.

The little bell jingles merrily as the door wings open. Minghao glares at it. His spiteful stare is turned on Jisoo when he calls out a friendly greeting.

“A  little early for you, don’t you think?” Jisoo calls out, smiling gently. He’s in a sweater even though it’s the middle of June. Minghao grumbles under his breath, sitting down at the little reading area near the counter Jisoo has set up. He lets his head fall back on the soft cushion of the couch, exhaling loudly.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” Minghao growls. He knows he’s irritable when he’s hungry, but he’s been unable to catch himself a proper fuck lately. His brain is permanently in a funk and he’s apparently lost all ability to seduce people.

Jisoo makes a small noise of pity. He would know; despite being a vampire, he absolutely refuses to drink human blood. Something about preventing a massacre or something like that. He only ever drinks blood pilfered from a blood bank and the occasional pig’s blood from the butcher. Jisoo sometimes goes weeks without blood, because it’s hard to get it from somewhere that’s not a warm body.

“Go read a book to take your mind off things,” Jisoo suggests. Minghao doubts it’ll actually help, but it’s better than sulking on the couch.

He skulks through the bookshelves, not really paying attention to where he’s going. He’s still thinking about how hopeless he’s been these past couple weeks, which is why he doesn’t notice the tall, lanky figure carrying a big stack of books until it’s too late.

They crash with surprising force, Minghao nearly bowled over by the force of who seems to be Jisoo’s newest employee. Said employee lets out a yelp as he drops all the books in his arms, tripping over one and once again slamming bodily into Minghao. Already off-balance, it’s no surprise that the incubus falls over. They both crash to the floor, the full weight of the stranger on him causing Minghao to grunt.

They lay on the ground for a moment, Minghao still trying to process the accident that happened in the past couple seconds. His entire body is aching from the impact, but the presence of a warm body draped over his has his dick stirring in interest. Of all the fucking times...

The employee finally groans and rolls off of Minghao, who can finally breathe. He doesn’t think he’s hit his head – not that it matters, because he’s sporting an embarrassing boner. He curses, standing up way too fast and wobbling.

Jisoo’s new employee lets out a shout of alarm as Minghao lists from the sudden altitude change. There’s an arm snapping out to catch him – only to miss and smack him in the face.

“The fuck,” Minghao hisses, clutching his nose as he glares up at the clumsy oaf who’s done him damage twice in the span of a minute.

“I’m so sorry!” the oaf sputters. His cheeks are red as his hands flail uselessly. “I – I wasn’t watching where I was going and I...”

Minghao tunes the man’s apology out. He’s fixated on the employee’s – his name tag reads Mingyu – face, which is surprisingly handsome. A sharp jaw, high cheekbones and plush lips. Fuckable lips, his mind whispers treacherously.

There’s a hand waving in front of his eyes. Minghao rears back, eyeing the hand suspiciously. It’s pulled back with a jerk, a sheepish smile painted on those plush lips. Mingyu scratches the back of his head bashfully. Despite those model-like features, he acts like a gigantic puppy. Minghao’s stomach and chest lurches.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu repeats, bending down to pick up the fallen books. Minghao’s eyes unwittingly land on Mingyu’s ass, lovingly covered in tight denim that hides practically nothing. “I’m such a klutz! You must be Jisoo hyung’s friend, right?”

You’re cute, Minghao thinks helplessly, despite the filthy thoughts running through his head (a side-effect of being an incubus, unfortunately). As usual, Minghao’s mouth moves before he’s aware and he hears himself saying, “Yeah, watch where you’re fucking going next time.”

Mingyu freezes, looking up at Minghao with wide eyes. He looks so much like a kicked puppy that the guilt practically smothers Minghao. “I – I’m sorry,” Mingyu says again, his voice small and brittle.

Fuck. Minghao pinches the bridge of his nose, something low and dark settling in his stomach. “No – I mean, if you’re so fucking clumsy, then be more careful.”

MIngyu blinks, still half-bent over. Minghao figures he’s completely ruined his first impression with the cute bookshop employee, so he just squats down to help pick up the fallen books.

“Here,” he says gruffly, shoving the books into Mingyu’s arms.

Unfortunately for Minghao, Mingyu was completely caught unaware. He jumps, the books already in his arms falling to the ground again... right on Minghao’s foot.

The incubus swears up a storm, hopping around on one foot like an idiot. Mingyu looks mortified and on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry!” Mingyu wails, hand buried in his hands.

“Shit, you’re really something, aren’t you?” Minghao hisses, once the throbbing subsides and he can feel his big toe. Mingyu just hangs his head in shame.

[svt-writers-club]

im-a-weirdowl replied to your post “Would you be able to do these for gyuhao and wonhui?: Who loses it...”

Kk, fucking dramatic Gyu, HE MADE ME MAD for real, unfair :c

mingyu was being a little bit of a butt, but they were both under a lot of stress and were bottling up their frustrations with each other, so don’t be too mad at the dumb lil memetree

[svt-writers-club]

Wonwoo and Junhui’s first meeting:

Junhui follows Seokmin to work every day. He kinda has to, since he’s in charge of Seokmin’s overall protection and well-being. It’s tough being Satan’s son, he thinks, but it’s also tough guarding the future ruler of Hell who would rather waste his days in the human realm, scooping out ice cream for children. He’d almost rather have Seokmin running around and causing mayhem. That, at least, he knows how to handle.

“I’m bored,” Junhui complains, voice travelling to his charge.

“Read a book,” Seokmin replies with a sunny smile. “Play that game on your phone!”

“I hate it.” At this point, Junhui’s just complaining for the sake of it. He hates the human realm. He flexes his hands, sneering at the blunt fingernails and slightly tanned skin. It’s too restricting to be in this body.

“I’m not going back down there,” Seokmin says firmly, eyes flashing dangerously. “It’s hot and there are no puppies.”

Junhui groans. He doesn’t understand Seokmin’s obsession with the tiny, furry, yappy things. What’s wrong with Cerberus? He was a perfectly good guard dog.

Junhui pushes himself to his feet, stretching languidly and grinning when a teenage girl walks into the door at the slight flash of skin. “I’m going to get some coffee.”

“Bring me back a hot chocolate!” Seokmin calls.

The jingling of the bell as Junhui exits is disgustingly cheerful. He hates it.

There’s a cafe on the other side of the road from the ice cream shop. He heads to it, conjuring a pair of sunglasses into his hand and sliding it on. It’s a welcome respite from seeing all the sins the humans emit as they go about their regular lives.

The cafe is cool and blissfully empty. There’s a single person at the counter – no, Junhui takes that back. The aura around the cashier is different. It’s a creature.

Junhui clears his throat, slipping the sunglasses off. He pastes a smile on his lips, leaning against the counter.

“Hi there,” he purrs. The cashier barely glances up from his book, his eyes hidden behind the reflection of light in his glasses.

“Hello,” the cashier replies, voice low and rumbling. His name tag reads Wonwoo. “What can I get you?”

“You,” Junhui answers reflexively, eyes flicking about Wonwoo’s aura. It’s pale blue, utterly devoid of the sins that plague other humans. Junhui always did love corrupting innocent souls.

Wonwoo’s mouth works silently for a moment. The blush that adorns Wonwoo’s cheeks and ears is absolutely adorable. Junhui’s inner demon purrs at the sight of such purity. He can’t wait to see the reds and blacks bleed into such a calming aura.

“I – no? What the fuck. What do you want to drink.”

Junhui licks his bottom lip slowly. He sees the way Wonwoo’s throat works, watches the widening of Wonwoo’s eyes.

“Drink,” Wonwoo demands, trying to act like he’s not as flustered as he is. “You. Drink. What.”

Junhui takes pity and gives his drink order – a latte for him, some chocolate frappuccino concoction that he knows will make Seokmin happy. Wonwoo makes his drinks in a huff, before practically slamming it in the counter and fully ignoring all of Junhui’s attempts to flirt with him further.

His smile is sharp when he walks out of the cafe into the blinding sunlight and the stiff scent of damnation. I’m gonna have fun breaking him.

[svt-writers-club]

the death of me

- Seungkwan has been having prophetic dreams as long as he can remember. It’s a gift, his grandmother used to remind him. Well, of course she’d call it a gift. She’s the one who passed it down to him.

These prophetic dreams aren’t about a life-changing prophecy or some Oedipusian tragedy. They’re about the little things – his older sister getting into the university she wants, the family restaurant getting an award, an A on his next test.

Well, most of them.

Since he was fourteen, he’s had one recurring dream. Unlike all the other dreams, where he’s more of a third-person observer, this dream is seen through his own eyes. The narrow first-person view is jarring for him. It’s limited and he’s not used to seeing so little.

The vision is always a little hazy, as well. There’s a shimmer around their surroundings. All he can remember is a handsome face, framed by caramel hair. Honey brown eyes that twinkle, crinkling at the ends as a smooth voice says, “You’re going to be the death of me, but I don’t mind.” The smile that curves plush lips has a hint of sadness.

Seungkwan knows he’s an oracle, but he’s never wanted to bring death onto another person.

- Seungkwan gets accepted to Olympus High School for the Gifted. He can see it coming a mile away. Anybody could.

What he doesn’t see coming is the caramel-haired, honey-eyed boy from his dreams attending the same school – the boy who he’ll be the death of.

Seungkwan decides that for both their sakes, he’s going to stay as far away from the handsome boy.

- They end up in the same class. The same, fucking Healing 101 (Healing for Dummies, more like) class. Seungkwan thinks the fates are having a great laugh at his expense.

They’re seated next to each other. Seungkwan doesn’t care about him. He doesn’t want to care about him. The pretty boy’s name is Hansol. He’s part of the House of Cybele. He talks to birds. Seungkwan wants to hate him, but he can’t.

- You’ll kill him one day, Seungkwan reminds himself. That’s why he can’t get close to Hansol – not even when Hansol helps him with his work, when he greets him every meal time with a grin and a cheerful, “Seungkwan-ah!”

He hates the familiarity; hates the easy way he smiles when he sees Hansol. He hates the way his stomach rolls when he gets a glimpse of caramel hair, the way the sunlight caresses the golden locks when they study together.

Seungkwan hates that he’s falling for the boy he could kill.

- “This little rivalry think you have with Hansollie is ridiculous,” Soonyoung comments, idly balancing a small fireball between two hands. “You’ve turned down his offer to go to the dance together five times.”

“It’s not a rivalry,” Seungkwan says flatly. “And I don’t want to go to the dance with him. I don’t like him.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes, fireball dissipating into nothing with Soonyoung’s lack of concentration. “Your heart eyes are so embarrassing. You keep staring at him all the time, you talk about him all the time and I know you dream about him too.”

“Yeah. Nightmares,” Seungkwan retorts. His ears burn; he hopes it’s not too obvious.

It’s the same dream he’s had since he was fourteen, but now it’s joined by other dreams too. They’re walking by a beach (he thinks it might be back home, on Jeju Island), hand in hand. The wind is in Hansol’s hair and Seungkwan longs to tuck it behind the taller boy’s ear. He hates that dream him doesn’t hesitate to reach out for Hansol. He dreams of kissing Hansol’s lips, pink and swollen from being bitten on as he thinks. He dreams of their fingers interlocked, of his head on Hansol’s shoulder as they talk in quiet tones.

He hates that he has such wonderful dreams of the boy he could kill.

- Seungkwan rejects Hansol three more times before the dance. He’s so focused on rejecting Hansol that he doesn’t find a date, so he just goes alone.

“Dates are a chore anyway,” Seungkwan announces to Seokmin and Soonyoung, who look radiant in their suits. Soonyoung has forgone a blazer for a leather jacket instead, while Seokmin settles on a suit combination that shows off his toned arms. He thinks they’re an... odd couple.

(Chan joins them later, in his silk vest and sneakers. Seungkwan thinks it’s disgusting how adorably horrendous the three of them look together.)

Seungkwan shows up alone, in a sweater and dress pants. He’s dyed his hair blonde and run a comb through it, unbothered with how to style it because there’s no one to impress anyway.

(Halfway through the dance, a sparrow titters as it lands on his head and deposits a carefully crafted flower crown. Seungkwan’s eyes dart around the crowd, but he only catches glimpses of the caramel hair he’s come to hate and love.)

- “Do you hate me?”

No. Oh no.

Seungkwan finds himself cornered one evening, right by his dorms. He knows it’s not a planned attack; Hansol and Wonwoo are friends and Hansol likes hanging around the healer. He knows it’s a coincidence and he feels betrayed anyway.

“What are you doing here?” Seungkwan demands. He hugs his book to his chest, eyes darting around for an escape route.

“I was... just around,” Hansol mumbles, shuffling his feet. His eyes are downcast and he looks like a guilty man, except he hasn’t done anything. It’s just Seungkwan being prickly because he’s seen what he can do to Hansol and he doesn’t want to be that oracle.

“Stop that,” Seungkwan hears himself snap, hating the flinch that jolts through Hansol’s body. “I don’t hate you.”

“I see,” Hansol says weakly. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” Seungkwan winces. It sounds like an awful breakup speech.

Hansol’s eyes widen, an awkward smile quirking his lips. “Sounds a little like an excuse.”

“It does, but it’s not.” Seungkwan’s at a loss. He’s usually a lot better with words, but something about Hansol as him turned upside down and inside out. “Look... I’m not good for you.”

Hansol tilts his head. A lock of hair falls into his puppy-like eyes. Seungkwan could commit murder at how cute that picture is. He hates his treacherous heart for speeding up at the sight.

“I’m not good for you,” Seungkwan reiterates, taking a step back. “You – you should stay away from me.”

There’s no shame in running, Seungkwan tells himself as he marches off into his dorm. He’s just trying to keep Hansol safe.