#sfwseventeen

[hungline]

when i first saw you, i said oh my (that’s my dream)

pairing: junhao (can be considered platonic)  genre: angst, fluff, vampire au, rated g  warnings: coming out, trans character, emotional hurt/comfort  words: 529 

summary: “When I first caught a whiff of you, I knew,” Junhui says, his fangs exposed enough by his signature grin that never fails to make Minghao’s heart pound in his chest. “You’re a boy, HaoHao. Always have been.”  

Minghao has not known Junhui for long, definitely not long enough to be sharing something as sensitive as this so soon, but Junhui wouldn't judge him for it.

There are many things that Minghao is not sure about, so many things that he has no clue about, but Junhui is one of the surest things out there for him.

He is more sure about Junhui than he has ever been about his gender, but lately, things have changed. It is something sizzling right underneath his skin and flowing throughout this body of his that has never felt quite right. Minghao never really understood why, but know he does and its Junhui's fault.

Junhui had laughed at him and jokingly called him "sir" and even though Minghao had laughed right back and told him to shut the fuck up, he could not deny the feeling that had shot right through him. His senses had gone into overdrive and something secure and warm settled over him like a blanket on a cold, winter night. His toes had fucking tingled and his brain had buzzed with a giddiness he couldn't explain until later when he got home and still could not stop thinking about it.

He took to the internet then and a few hours later, he shot Seokmin a text and asked him to refer to him as he/him now. Seokmin had sent him a bunch of heart, thumbs up, and smiley face emojis as a response and Minghao had cried the rest of the night, his face still a little blotchy when he met up with Junhui again the next day.

Since then, he's learned that Junhui is not human in the slightest and while the tale of vampires feeding on human blood is, fortunately, false, Minghao was a bit disappointed with the not being able to turn into a bat thing.

But Junhui is Junhui, regardless of whether he is human or not.

And right now, with Minghao just having said what's been weighing down on him for what feels like his entire life, he is banking on Junhui's extended lifespan to give him some wise insight right now. Junhui is someone important to Minghao, regardless of how long they have known each other and Minghao hopes that Junhui can take this with grace because it would suck having to cut him out of his life.

"When I first caught a whiff of you, I knew," Junhui says, his fangs exposed enough by his signature grin that never fails to make Minghao's heart pound in his chest. "You're a boy, HaoHao. Always have been."

Minghao really isn't much of a crier, but after finally figuring out what has been off about him his entire life, it is a relief for him to hear this.

"Thank you," Minghao sniffles, wiping his nose and ducking his head as Junhui's grin softens into something more comforting and steps close enough to wrap an arm around Minghao's shoulders.

"Anything for you, HaoHao," Junhui whispers, his other hand rubbing circles into Minghao's back.

Minghao turns and buries his face into Junhui's chest, finally feeling right for once in his life. Finally feeling free.

[chilligyu]

close proximity ii wonwoo/reader preview status: in progress

after being burned by mingyu, she was sure that she would never love again. but she didn’t love wonwoo, the notion alone was preposterous. he was her best friend and he would always be there for her. and for her that was enough. in fact, it was exactly what she needed.

[tonicandjins]

storm

characters: yoon jeonghan/reader

genre/theme: fluff, married life

word count: 1,859

warnings: none

september i love yous #16: as we huddle together, with the storm raging outside for @lxveille​

“I don’t want it. Return that thing back where it came from.”

Jeonghan nonchalantly returns to recline back in bed from his sitting position, shutting his eyes close in hopes of muting the sound of barking alongside your children’s vivid laughter from the other side of the door. He hears you sigh and fights the small smile forming on his drying lips because you’d know you’ve won the second he cracks. You always win at stuff like this. At literally anything in the household.

“But Jeonghannie.” There goes the nickname and the pout. The bed dips beside him and you’re suddenly snuggled up in his side. “Nari and Jino like him already!”

Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed. “I don’t care,” he mutters sleepily. “Return it. I want it gone when I wake up.”

“Honey,” you plead. “He’s nice and young. I checked all his papers from the shelter. He’s completed all types of vaccines and boosters for the entire year.”

“I don’t care,” he says again, opening his eyes and looking down on you. He was right; he didn’t even need to look at you to know you’re pouting. “We have no room for a pet nor do we have the luxury of time to take care of one while juggling between our jobs and the kids.”

Sighing, you entangle yourself from him and sit up. Jeonghan does as well. “We can leave him to Cheol when we’re gone. Trust me, honey, I’ve already had this all planned.”

It visibly takes you aback when Jeonghan stands from the bed, sliding on his indoor slippers and lazily walking towards the door. “Nice to know none of your plans include telling me first.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, standing to catch up with him.

The door of your children’s playroom is wide open when you and your husband pass by them. “Daddy!” Nari calls out. Jeonghan’s heart softens by a million times at the sight of his girl holding the small, brown puppy in his arms as he runs towards you and him. “Look! Meet Sandy!”

Jeonghan stops just in front of their door and goes down on one knee to pat Nari’s hair. “Mommy has something to tell you while I secure the house for the storm tomorrow, okay?” Jino runs towards them, giggling as he reaches out both hands. Jeonghan stands to carry the three-year old kid and kisses the top of Nari’s head. “Hey, buddy.”

“Daddy,” the younger says, a wide grin painted on his face. “His name is Sandy because his fur looks like sand.” Jeonghan nods and kisses Jino the same way as Nari.

“That’s great,” he answers and puts Jino down. The younger immediately cradles the puppy in his arms, Nari painstakingly passing it to him. Jeonghan looks at you, his eyes firm while yours are hopeful, but he shakes his head and turns to walk down the stairs. “You’re telling them that we’re not keeping it. I want it returned after I store and secure all our stuff from outside.”

“Jeonghan,” you call out, still following after him. “The kids love him!”

He stops, making you halt and bump into him before the last step of the stairs. “I would have loved him, too, if you simply asked me before going out to take some puppy from the dog shelter.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little petty to be angry merely because I didn’t ask your permission?” you ask. Jeonghan turns around.

“Tell the kids we’re not keeping it,” he mutters. “And I would have wanted to be a part of the decisions you make because that’s how marriage works usually. Apparently not.”

He hears you sigh. “Jeonghan.” He shuts the door close.

❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊

The storm arrives earlier than what the morning news had told you. The clock had barely struck at eight in the evening when the heavy rain began to pour, flashes of lightning and claps of thunder roaring along. Jeonghan is still sitting on the couch while you’re giving Jino a bath before bedtime. Usually, Nari comes to watch with him but she’s already upstairs, playing with the dog like she’s been doing all day. When another roar of thunder cracks on his sky, Jeonghan turns off the television and takes himself upstairs.

The door of the kids’ room is open and he finds you with the kids (and the dog) as you get them ready for bed. Leaving against the doorframe, Jeonghan listens to your conversation. You haven’t realized he’s there yet.

“I know, sweetheart,” you say, kissing the top of Nari’s head. “Daddy’s really upset about what Mommy did so I need to return Sandy.”

Nari pouts. “If we return him, who’s going to give him belly rubs?”

“The dog shelter will find new ones,” you assure. “Can you sleep by yourselves now? Or should we read Hansel and Gretel until you sleep?”

Jeonghan clears his throat to get your attention. You and the kids immediately turn to look at him. “Anyone up for a slumber party at Mommy and Daddy’s room? The storm’s stirring up the sky real bad.”

Nari and Jino immediately jump from their bed, smiles playing on their lips, and runs towards Jeonghan. He allows the children to climb on him, Jino immediately wrapping his arms on his neck and his legs around Jeonghan’s torso. Nari giggles as she hugs her father’s leg, showing how excited she is to sleep in their parents’ room. It’s only then that Jeonghan realizes that it’s been long—too long—since the kids slept with them in their room.

He looks at you. You’re still silent as you fix the kids’ beds and collect random toys they’d want to sleep with. “The doors are already locked,” he tells you. You nod, still unable to look at him right in the eyes, and pick up Jino’s plushie.

Just as Jeonghan turns to leave with Jino wrapped around him like a koala, the dog barks. Sandyrepeatedly barks upon seeing you and the kids leave, jumping up and down inside his small cage. Sighing, you watch as Nari runs back to pat the dog on his head, whispering something incoherent.

“Come on, Nari,” you call. “He’ll be fine.”

“But, Mom—” Jeonghan doesn’t miss the subtle glare you shoot towards your daughter. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sandy.”

Your husband sighs audibly, nodding in your direction. “You can take it in our room for as long as it stays quiet and it doesn’t bother the kids while they sleep.”

Nari jumps in excitement and rushes to take the dog cage before Jeonghan could even have the chance the change his mind. The little girl looks visibly happy as she takes the dog, while you smile at Jeonghan in hopes of transmitting an unsaid thank youfor allowing Sandy to stay with you for the entire night. He walks with Nari, Jino still clinging onto him, leaving you to switch off the lights and follow them afterward.

A crack of thunder startles the kids as they settle themselves in the middle of the bed. Jeonghan smiles fondly when Jino pouts in fear of the storm and Nari comes quickly to hug her little brother. Moments like this are ones that you and Jeonghan treasure the most because their childhood would eventually come to pass, like how you and him have been together for almost eight years now but it seems like it hasn’t been that long. The sight of your children in the middle of the bed makes you both stop right at the doorway, watching in awe at how beautiful two people can make out of love.

Sandy comes running towards Jeonghan’s feet, making him stumble a little, the smile on his lips turning into a small frown. You quickly take the dog in your hands and apologize to Jeonghan. “I told Nari to keep it in the cage,” you mumble apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’ll return him once the storm’s over.”

Jeonghan smiles and it startles you when he quickly leans in to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, something he would have given you if you both were eighteen, still learning how to make each other’s heart race. “We can keep him.I’m sorry for being all prissy about it.”

Your face lights up. Jeonghan’s heart takes a huge leap. “Really?”

Nodding, he rubs the dog’s ears, to which Sandy returns the affection quickly, leaning into Jeonghan’s touch. You look up from the wonderful sight when Jino calls you and Jeonghan, asking why you’re still standing by the doorway. The dog jumps out of your arms when you lower your body to put him on the floor; he runs towards his cage and settles himself in. It doesn’t take longer than a minute for you and Jeonghan to jump on the bed, settling yourselves on either side of the bed, your kids comfortably reclined in the middle.

Another crack of thunder startles the kids, making them screech. Jeonghan leans over to switch off his lamp, leaving only yours to illuminate the entire room.

“Still scared?” he asks the kids, draping the duvet over them and kissing their heads.

“Not anymore,” Nari answers. “Not when Mommy and Daddy are with us.”

“Wuv you, Mommy,” Jino mumbles sleepily. “Wuv you, Daddy.”

“Love you,” Jeonghan replies fondly.

“Goodnight, munchkins,” you whisper, kissing them on their noses like you always do. “We’ll protect you from the storm.”

The rain pours harder, a series of roaring thunders coming after. Laying on his side, Jeonghan looks at you as you curl yourself beside Jino, your eyes fondly focused on the kids. Though it’s a little dark, his gaze doesn’t leave you until the kids have closed their eyes and drifted to slumber. You had always loved looking at the kids while they sleep, especially when they were younger. You once told him you liked staring at the people you love as they sleep. He wonders if you do the same to him. (You do. Every night before you sleep. The second you wake up.)

The dog must have slept on his own because for a few minutes, it’s only the thunderstorm that you and him could hear. You look surprised when you look up and meet his eyes.

“Thought you’d be asleep,” you mutter, sitting up to tie your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells you, voice sounding sleepy and drained. The darkness almost hides the blush on your cheeks. “I love you.”

You shake your head, giggling softly as you lean over the kids to kiss him on the lips. “And I love you. Thank you for allowing us to keep Sandy.”

“I’d take anything for as long as I see you and the kids happy,” he replies. You return to lay back on your side so you’re facing him, too. “Even a brown furball whose name is that of a girl when he’s obviously a boy.”

“Sandy is a gender-neutral name!” you defend, making him smile softly. You really are beautiful.

“I love you,” he tells you again as you huddle together with the kids, the storm raging outside.

“And I love you.”

[cheolsjigyu]

love ↝ ljh

genre - fluff!!!!!!!!! 100% fluff!!!!!! super fluffy i wish jh was my bf when writing this

warning(s) - tears ? bcof fluffiness

word count - 409

a/n - my dudes !! elo this is a super belated happy birthday writing for the love of my life lee jihoon!!! u see, i rlly want something fluffy for him but i think i went overboard... or is it bc my imaginations just runs really wild  thats why i kept on visualizing this story and man HEartaches man anyways!! enjoy!!

song rec - love by lana del rey

creds

There's this particular feeling that floats through the air as you lay on your side, face to face with the man that you love with every fiber of your being. The silence that engulfs the both of you isn't suffocating instead it's comforting.

Jihoon's orbs are painted with brown hues, and it's twinkling with gold as the afternoon sun shines dimly right through your windows. He's beautiful. You're convinced he's the most beautiful person ever created in the world. The times you've stared at his face is immeasurable still you can't get enough of looking and memorizing every single detail of his features.

He's absolutely a work of art. A masterpiece that's yet to be stolen by the world to put on a show for the people hungry for beauty.

But you won't ever let anyone steal Jihoon away from you. You swore to your heart that you will forever keep him safe and tucked under your arms, protected from all the greedy fingers reaching out to get him.

Your breath got caught in your throat as he takes your fingers and softly plays with it. His eyes never leave yours as he scoots closer to feel the warmth radiating off of your body transfer to him. He's close - close enough for you to graze your nose to his. The air he's blowing right at your mouth is warm, minty as well.

Jihoon will always be your favorite boy. You don't think you have ever loved someone as much as you love him. You love everything he does, may it be big or small. One of the things you love most about him is the kisses that he gives.

Jihoon's kisses bring you to another universe as soon as he presses his lips to yours. You see stars at the back of your lids as he pulls you closer, drowning you in his scent. You feel like you just landed on another planet as he caresses his lips against yours. As he placed both your hands between your bodies, closer to your chests, you can feel the almost synchronization of your heartbeats.

Jihoon pulls for a moment, your breathing a bit ragged as you both catch your breath. Eyes closed, you can feel Jihoon's lips hover over your cheek, pressing the most delicate kiss on your skin and engraving the words “I love you’ to your heart.

[jungnoir]

Can I please request this prompt “Hi, I saw on your dating profile that the only criteria you judge potential suitors on is whether they’re a dog or cat person…?” additionally, “You’re pretty cute so I’ll give you a pass if you pick the wrong answer.” with Seokmin because he just loves dogs!!! So Much!!!

the barkchelor;

lee seokmin | “Hi, I saw on your dating profile that the only criteria you judge potential suitors on is whether they’re a dog or cat person…?” additionally, “You’re pretty cute so I’ll give you a pass if you pick the wrong answer.” | 1.8k words. | fluff, humor.

a/n: to celebrate the oh my! comeback, here’s a lil something sweet I’ve been saving! and yeah. I stole the title from a try guys video.

You didn’t consider yourself particularly “bad at dating” (could you do so without being biased? …well…). However, it became pretty clear when all the possible suitors at your job were a bust and finding someone on the weekends ended with a very superficial goal in mind that love was just…. incredibly evasive. And only for you, it seemed.

You were at a place in your life where you felt stable in everything; in fact, the only thing you could think of that was missing in your life was someone special. You liked being single because it was freeing, but you couldn’t help but long for someone’s hand in yours when you’d take a stroll on the town, couldn’t help but imagine someone’s arms wrapping around your waist while you prepared a semi-edible dinner, couldn’t help but lay awake in bed sometimes and think about how much you’d love to have someone curled up against your back fast asleep.

So, after a few drinks and a marathon of rom-coms to leave you more than a little romance-horny, you turned to a dating app.

You weren’t going to lie, the first week on there was hell.

Every single person you wanted to match with either didn’t match with you or turned out to be extremely gross when it came down to the actual “getting to know each other” part. You would dedicate at least a small part of your day to looking through profiles like your friends had recommended, but if anything, your success in finding someone even slightly your type went further down.

But, like all things, the best part can come when you least expect it. For you, it was right before you were going to delete your profile.

Most of the people you saw on here were usually mean-mugging the camera or posing far too stiffly to be realistic, so when you were met with a photo of a chocolate poodle staring right at you, big dark eyes practically begging for you to swipe right, you were puzzled. It was currently midnight, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, and you may have possibly found the best suitor on this entire app… and he wasn’t even human. Underneath the poodle’s picture was the name “Seokmin” followed by his age, “21″.

It was only when you started to click through the other pictures provided that you realized that the poodle was not Seokmin (as a much more sober and well-rested mind would have told you). “Seokmin” turned out to be a guy with a smile that lit up your phone screen and stilled you in your tracks. Dark colored hair laid neatly on top of his head, parted to the side to nicely frame his face. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a large dog laid across his lap looking like it was having the time of its life, and if you could tell anything by the faint pink lines running down the insides of his arm, that big dog must’ve been a handful. The same poodle that had caught your eye in the beginning was seated next to him in the photo, licking at one of the scratches that it might’ve had some help in causing.

Out of the six pictures he provided, only one of them was without any four-legged companions swarming him, and most of the ones that did have pups in them featured the same chocolate poodle somewhere in the background.

Eyes drifting down to his bio, you were dumbstruck again. He didn’t mention any hobbies, didn’t include a witty joke like most guys on the site, or list any of the things he was looking for in a partner except one.

Dog or cat person? Choose wisely.

You blink at the short and incredibly cryptic bio, your forehead wrinkling while your brain brims with confusion… and curiosity.

Hell. What could you lose?

Swiping right, you blink when you realize that the two of you have matched. You see the option to contact him. You know in your mind (somewhere) that you should save doing such a thing for later, but… it was midnight and you didn’t have anywhere near the patience to wait that long.

By the time you’re actually in his messages, your mind is on auto-pilot. You have a plan to send him something quickly and head to bed, probably to wake much later and delete the app when you find that even this cute but slightly strange guy is somehow, someway, a weirdo. You had long since abandoned your bad pick-up lines and jokes, the excitement and hope to find someone having died down exponentially by the time seven days had gone by. Besides, the guy had given you something to start with.

You sent:

hi, I saw on your dating profile that the only criteria you judge potential suitors on is whether they’re a dog or cat person…?

You stare at your message with the very last bit of energy you have, checking for any spelling or grammatical errors, but there is nothing to really worry about. That, or maybe you’re too tired to be able to tell. Whatever it might be, you can set your phone down and let yourself succumb to the warm caresses of sleep with ease.

Until you wake two and a half hours later, your phone vibrating against the back of your skull mercilessly.

You blearily look around the darkness of your room, thankful that it’s at least a Saturday and that you don’t have work in three and a half hours, because otherwise you might have pelted your phone across the room in annoyance.

Carefully fishing the offending device from behind your head, you hold the brightly shining phone away from your face a few inches as to not blind yourself. You realize that you hadn’t hooked it up to the charger, a habit of yours that came only when sleep captured you before you could think to do so. You try to think of the last thing you’d done to be awoken like this. That is, until you see three new messages on your screen from the dating app you were supposed to delete earlier.

Seokmin sent:

That is correct! Sorry for the late reply, I just got home from my friend’s place.

You’re pretty cute so I’ll give you a pass if you pick the wrong answer.

:)

Were you… was he serious right now?

You push yourself up from the sheets of your bed, flipping on your lamplight to stare at the texts more closely. Sure enough, he definitely really sent you those.

A small, disbelieving laugh leaves your mouth as you think of what to say. There isn’t much to him in your mind yet. He’s a cute guy, he apparently thinks you’re cute, he seems to know a lot of dogs, and… well, that’s it. If he wasn’t so handsome and you hated dogs, you would have definitely swiped left, no questions asked.

Also, what was up with “wrong answer”?

You sent:

there’s a wrong answer? sounds pretty biased

also, it’s pretty clear which answer is correct given your affinity for the canine population

Seokmin sent:

Welllll, the question is are ~you~ a dog or cat person, not me.

Don’t mind my preference :)

You couldn’t quite fathom why you bothering to have this conversation, especially seeing as it was 2:36 a.m. for the both of you and you were as in your right mind as a rubber duck right now… that didn’t even make sense, you were so not in your right mind right now. But hey, did that stop you?

You sent:

alright, I’ll play

dog person. and this is a completely honest answer, by the way

Seokmin sent:

Could I humbly request a photo of a dog you’ve met? It would be even better if you were in the photo

You sent:

you do realize how weird you sound, right

Seokmin sent:

Hey, you’re a stranger. How do I know you’re not just lying about being a dog person to get me to like you?

You sent:

weren’t you the one who liked my profile first?

Seokmin sent:

…you have a point

So no pup photo then?

You sent:

(image.jpg)

the pup in my lap is named skittles and he’s my friend’s dog who i’ve been strategically trying to kidnap for three months

Seokmin sent:

Adorable

You sent:

ikr? he’s the sweetest

Seokmin sent:

😅 Actually, I was talking about you

but

Skittles is a runner-up for sure

You heart lightly skips in your chest at his response, your lip immediately being sucked between your teeth to nibble. Before you can think up a smart reply which might have taken you all night to formulate, Seokmin is sending something else.

Seokmin sent:

(image.jpg)

I saved this photo of me and Coco for anyone who struck my interest enough, so here you go. Consider it a thank you for your pic :)

You stare at the photo, unable to even admire the adorable poodle in his arms when he is right there. You weren’t one to be quickly drawn in by someone’s looks, but this Seokmin guy… he was an exception. Right off the bat, you’d already thought him attractive, but after having talked to him, that thought was hammered ever deeper into your sleep-deprived mind.

You sent:

Pretty handsome

Seokmin sent:

Coco?

Oh

Wait

I see what you did there 😅

You sent:

:)

i think your smiley faces are rubbing off on me

Seokmin sent:

People say my smile in real life is contagious too

You sent:

we should test that theory one day

but first

i’d like to know more about you, mr. dog person

Seokmin sent:

Shouldn’t you be sleeping? I don’t want to keep you up…

No, perhaps a little while ago you might’ve agreed with him. You would have wished him goodnight because realistically, he’d be there in the morning when you woke up. But, maybe you were possessed, because you never felt more awake than right now.

You sent:

i’m not tired. are you?

Unlike before, Seokmin takes a while to reply. You know that you shouldn’t be upset if he’s honest and tells you he’s pooped and he’ll talk to you later, but the thought that he might makes your mood slightly deflate. You hadn’t had such a nice conversation with a guy like this in a long time, an embarrassingly long time actually. As impatient as it sounded, you weren’t very excited to let this spark of curiosity die as soon as it was ignited.

You begin to twiddle your thumbs as one minute turned into two, two turned into three, and then it happened.

Your phone vibrates in your lap.

Seokmin sent:

I couldn’t be more awake.

And hi, I’m Seokmin. It’s nice to meet you formally :)

You sent:

hi, Seokmin. I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you too :) so, besides dogs, what else are you into?

So yeah, you didn’t consider yourself particularly “bad at dating”. You considered yourself “waiting for a Seokmin to come along”, and boy was it worth it.

[hoyoungy]

Nothing Personal | Joshua (1/2)

genre: fluff, comedy, mildly suggestive | friends to lovers | ceo!joshua x assistant!reader with slight ceo!seungcheol x reader summary: your boss joshua hong treated the number one rule to separate business from personal too lightly for your liking. word count: 5452 a/n: loosely based off of pepper and tony stark’s relationship in the first iron man???? definitely. it’s not rly friends to lovers but.... what do i tag it as.... your boss can be your friend, right?? anyways, it’s two parts cuz i can’t write a 10k fic thing cuz my head hurts and i want you all to suffer thanks enjoy!!!!

The daily walk up to Joshua Hong’s extravagant home was always a sight to be seen. You always noticed something different each time you arrived and had to commend his attention to every little detail he put into his home. If he hadn’t put such little effort in going to his own damn office on time, you wouldn’t have known the exact layout of his mansion, so you had him to thank for that.

At nine in the morning on the dot, you buzzed the intercom.

“Hello?” a groggy voice muttered.

“Mr. Hong, you’re late,” you teased. “Again…”

Not a second later, Joshua buzzed you in so you could deliver him his favorite breakfast sandwich, cup of coffee, and dry cleaning straight to his decaying body on the couch that never made it to the bed. Through the front door, it was a straight shot to a barely-conscious Joshua still dressed in last night’s suit messily sprawled on the leather cushions.

“Out partying again last night?” you asked, although you already knew the answer.

“What gave it away?” he snorted.

“Your lack of cufflinks.”

“What!?” Joshua jolted up much too quickly for his hungover state to inspect his wrists. Yup, no cufflinks. “Dammit, my Grandma gave me those!”

“Just buy another pair.”

“I can’t just buy another pair! Those had sentimental value…”

Rolling your eyes, you handed a pouty Joshua his coffee. “Iced Americano with the smallest dash of cream, as per usual.”

Joshua tightened his favorite blanket around his shoulders before happily sipping his daily cup. “Ah, perfect. What would I be without you?”

“Dead, probably,” you teased. You set down a large stack of all his paperwork for the day on his fancy coffee table before joining him on the couch with a cup of coffee of your own. “This is everything you need to sign and read over for today, as directed by literally everyone in the office.”

“This is all of it!? God, why is there so much!?”

“Because you keep putting it off until the last minute, which is today, by the way. The deadline for all of this is today.”

“Can you do it for me?” he whined, giving you that childlike pouty face that made you question his authority over you.

“Mr. Hong, I’m not forging your signature.”

“I’ll pay you.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“No, I’m simply giving you a raise for this task only.”

“I… Fine…”

“Really!?”

“Yes, but only because you need to go and get ready for that press conference that’s in, like, an hour.”

“Oh shit, I totally forgot about that!”

“Of course you did…”

Joshua ignored your passive aggressive scolding as he ran up the spiral stairs into one of his many closets. “What should I wear? Are a lot of press attending today?” he yelled from above.

“Mm, how about that dark blue suit? I like that one.”

“I’ll wear it just for you,” he teased lightly. “Suspenders or a belt?”

“Belt. It’s not that big of a deal, you don’t have to be so flashy.”

“But am I really Joshua Hong, CEO if I’m not being flashy?”

“You got me there.”

You didn’t look up from your stack of paper when you heard the clicking of his shoes on the tiles slowly make their way back to you. When the clicking paused, you looked up to see your boss styled and smiling as if he wasn’t about to hurl the contents of his stomach half an hour ago.

“How do I look?” he asked, like he always would when he tried on any outfit.

“Like a CEO,” you replied.

“That’s it?”

“What were you expecting me to say?”

“That I look like the country’s most eligible bachelor.”

“Mr. Hong, you’re going to be late if you don’t leave soon ~”

“Oh, Miss _____,” he sang, plopping down next to you. “Remind me again how long we’ve known each other?”

His light breathing tickled the shell of your ear as he peeked over your shoulder to check your progress on the paperwork. Throughout your years together, you learned to get accustomed to your Boss’s inherent ways of close contact, and peeking over your shoulder was probably his number one preference with you because he adored the way you used to get startled every time. But after a couple of years, his flirty and teasing ways had little-to-no effect on you and you planned to keep it that way.

Someone had to keep it professional between the two of you.

“Almost seven years,” you answered, not losing your focus on the paperwork.

“And yet you still call me Mr. Hong. It’s like I’m your boss, or something.”

“I mean, you are my boss...”

“Yeah, but we’re friends, too, aren’t we? CEOs and their assistants can be friends, especially after so long.”

“That’s not very professional, now is it?”

“I’m not one for professionalism and you know it.” After a rough tousling of your hair, he threw you a quick wink and strutted towards the door. “Have a good day, Miss _____. Like the good friend that I am, I owe you a drink when I come home.”

“If you come home, that is.”

“See, you know me so well! Like a friend would!”

“As your assistant, I literally have to know you well - and he’s out the door…”

After a long sigh and a big gulp of your cold coffee, you went back to tack the stack of papers. You had a long day ahead of you.

You actually finished a lot earlier than you expected. All the business calls you made went accordingly, you scheduled all of Joshua’s meetings and appearances weeks in advance, and even made yourself a nice dinner with all of the food he wouldn’t have eaten.

This definitely wasn’t the first time you’ve spent long hours working in his house alone, but each time you’ve done so, you always questioned if he was ever lonely. You knew your boss was someone who enjoyed having someone else’s company by his side, so living in a mansion with several unoccupied rooms must have added some weight to Joshua’s already-heavy shoulders.

That’s probably why he frequently brought female friends over to occupy his night. But whatever your boss did after hours was his business, not yours.

After tidying up the mess you made and neatly clipping his papers, you were just about ready to leave for the night when your boss came home with a bottle of wine and a long garment covered in wrapping in his hands.

He greeted you with open arms and a foxy grin. “Honey, I’m home ~”

“Don’t calling me that,” you cringed. “You’re coming home alone for once?”

“You make it sound like I bring home a different woman every night.” Joshua chuckled at your accusing expression. “I don’t bring one home every night…”

“Mmhmm. All of the paperwork is on the table, your chores and stuff are done, and so am I, now if you’ll excuse me -”

“Where do you think you’re going? We have a date, remember?” Your boss held you tightly by the shoulders and forced you back into the kitchen so he could fulfill his word on making you a drink.

“Mr. Hong, I’m really tired ~”

“I got you a gift.” He dangled the mysterious piece of something by the coat hanger. “But you’re not allowed to have it until we have our drink.”

“I hope you aren’t always buying your friends stuff so they’d hang out with you.”

“If I’m being honest, you’re my only true friend, so I can spoil you as much as I want. Will you help me pour the wine while I get comfortable?”

You nodded as Joshua ran up to his room to change. He was the first person to introduce and explain to you what a wine decanter was. It was a necessity, he told you, especially for this particular red wine. It wasn’t five dollar Barefoot brand cheap, but it wasn’t worth hundreds of dollars, either. You’ve drank this wine with him so many times that if you were blindfolded and tasted over a dozen different brands, you’d be able to distinguish this brand in a heartbeat.

Minutes later, he came back down in his boyish pajama pants and a white t-shirt, making him look much younger. It reminded you of when you first met fresh-out-of-university Joshua.

You began pouring the wine into glasses that were as big as your head. “You still drink this brand of wine?”

“Of course I do. Doesn’t it bring you back to the good ol’ times?”

“You mean the struggling times?”

“Humbling times, Miss _____, humbling. You think of things so negatively.” He clinked his glass with yours before drinking. “Cheers to you, my friend.”

“To me? Why?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he teased. His grin dropped to an incredulous frown when he saw your confused expression. “Really? You forgot? Again!?”

“Is it the anniversary of when I became your subordinate, or something?”

“No, silly. It’s your birthday.”

“What? No it’s not, I looked at the date like thirty times today, and today is definitely not - oh… Oops.”

Yup, the date on your phone was definitely correct. Today was your birthday, and you completely forgot for like, the seventh year in a row. You were always so busy with work and Joshua that the importance of your own birthday was never high on your priority list. Not like you cared to celebrate it, anyways. And besides, Joshua was always there to celebrate with you.

If there was one thing Joshua never forgot, it was your birthday.

“I guess it is my birthday,” you chuckled. “Is that why you have a gift for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Can I see it?”

“Close your eyes.”

You excitedly did as you were told. The long sound of an opening zipper was the only sound in his whole mansion. Every year, Joshua Hong gifted you something so extravagant for putting up with his shit for so many years and each year, it got better and better.

“Ok, you can open them.”

With wide eyes, you looked at the gorgeous wine-red floor-length gown in Joshua’s hands. He grinned widely at your twinkling eyes.

“Mr. Hong, it’s really beautiful,” you gasped.

“You like it? I saw it and immediately thought of you.”

“Why of me?”

He simply shrugged. “I think wine-red suits you. It’s sophisticated and sexy, just like you.”

“Please don’t call me sexy.”

“Fine ~”

“Thank you, really. I have the perfect occasion to wear it to, also.”

“Oh?” Joshua’s curiosity was rising.

“The charity gala is this weekend,” you sighed, not at all surprised by his forgetfulness anymore.

“Oh, right!” he giggled. You could tell the wine was already affecting him by the way his cheeks blushed.

“Is this why you didn’t bring someone home today? Because it’s my birthday?”

“Not only that. I actually haven’t brought anyone home lately.”

“Didn’t you bring some model home a couple of days ago?”

Joshua shook his head sheepishly. “I said I did, but only because I need to keep my reputation up.”

“I’m not going to think less of you for not sleeping with someone,” you snorted.

“Yeah, but I don’t sound cool…”

“Do you have a reason for your newfound act of celibacy?”

Joshua watched his wine swirl in his glass. Lately, his late night rendezvous just weren’t the same like when he was younger. Spontaneous sex with a stranger wasn’t fun or pleasurable to him anymore. It almost felt like a job, like he actually had a reputation to keep up. He was a young, rich, and extremely handsome single man who built his company from the ground up, of course he had people crawling to him left and right. But there was always something missing whenever he was screwing someone random.

Could it be that Joshua Hong, CEO and the most eligible bachelor in the country actually wanted to look for a permanent companion?

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he told you. “The sex isn’t that great anymore.”

“Whoa, the Mr. Hong doesn’t think sex is great anymore? Call the press.”

“Very funny. I meant mindless, emotionless sex, not sex in general. Don’t make me sound crazy now.”

“Mr. Hong, are you trying to say you’re looking for love ~?” you teased.

“Oh God, I think I am.” Joshua downed a huge gulp of the wine before grabbing your hands for some more. “Pour some more and don’t stop until I say so.”

“No way, you’ll blackout again, be late for work, and then we’ll have to do this all over again tomorrow!”

“That’s the point, now do as your boss tells you.”

“No.”

“God, I could have you fired, you know.”

“You could, but you won’t.”

“You’re right. No one knows how I like my coffee except for you.”

“Glad to know that’s all I’m good for,” you scoffed, drinking more of your wine.

“You know I appreciate everything you do for me,” Joshua smiled softly. His eyes always twinkled so cutely whenever he drank. It was no wonder he always brought someone home after a night out. You could easily get hypnotized by his eyes alone. “I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else in the world.”

“That’s a lie!” you screeched, nudging his side and laughing loudly as you recalled one of your several million memories with Joshua. “You were so ready to trade me for Seungcheol’s ex-secretary in a heartbeat!”

“I said that one time! One! And if you’re not going to call me by my first name, don’t call Seungcheol by his or else I’ll get jealous.”

“Fine, fine,” you sighed dreamily. “You better not trade me for someone hotter than me. I didn’t stick by you all these years just to get dumped like that.”

“Sticking by a boring old sap like me was completely your conscious choice. I can’t believe you’re still here next to me, to be honest.” With a lazy hand, he poked your cheek adoringly. “Why are you still with me, by the way?”

“Haven’t I told you this a thousand times already?”

“Yes, but I want to hear it a thousand more.”

You rolled your eyes excessively while trying to ignore the growing grin on your boss’s lips. “Because I believe in what you do, and you’re amazing at it.”

“And that’s why you’re the number one woman in my heart.”

“Ugh, stop it.”

You spent the rest of the night next to Joshua on his fancy kitchen island finishing as much of the wine as you both could. You’ve been drunk before, off of beers and expensive cocktails, but being wine drunk was a totally different experience, especially since it was just you and Joshua alone in his home. Usually the two of you were at some after party or in the club intoxicated together, but in all seven years of knowing him, you’ve never been drunk alone with him, let alone wine drunk.

There was something about the warmth of wine that pulled the two of you closer together.

“Alright, boss,” you started, standing up from your chair clumsily. “It’s time for me to go home.”

“You can’t stay longer?” he pouted.

“No, because you have an early meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Well, you can’t drive home, can you?”

“I’ll just call a cab and get my car next time.”

Before you could get to your jacket, Joshua stumbled to get to it before you did and held it high above your head so you couldn’t reach it. You were way too tipsy to fight back so you hung your head back and let out a loud whine that echoed through his home. His airy laugh joined in afterwards, distracting you from the arm that was snaking around your waist that helped you float towards your boss. You didn’t even blame his arm for pulling you closer to him - that was all your own doing.

“Mr. Hong, what are you doing?” Your voice sounded hoarse and quiet, and Joshua kind of liked it that way.

He wanted to hear you say his name like that again.

Tossing your jacket aside, he wrapped his other arm around you. His half-lidded eyes switched back and forth between your own and your lips, unable to decide which was more enticing.

“Stay,” he whispered, like he was begging you to.

And as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You shouldn’t. It was against all of your morals to do so.

You unwrapped his gentle hands from your waist and gave them a light squeeze. “I’ll see you at the gala, Mr. Hong,” you told him.

“I won’t see you tomorrow?”

“I deserve at least one day off a week, don’t you think?”

“Ah, right. I’m so used to seeing you throughout the week that I always forget. Enjoy your day off, ok?”

“I will.” With careful hands, you took a hold of your new dress. “Thank you again for my birthday gift. I love it a lot.”

Joshua simply nodded, too tired to give you his heart-stopping smile that you adored. It was substituted for one that felt a little lonelier. “I can’t wait to see you in it. You’ll look beautiful.”

“Will you match with me this weekend?”

“Match with you? As in wear red also?” You nodded eagerly. How could he say no to you? “Ok. I’ll go buy a new suit just for you.”

“You don’t have to buy a whole new suit.”

“I don’t have to, but I want to. We’ll be the best looking pair at the gala.”

You bit your bottom lip excitedly and all Joshua could think of was how much he wanted to do the same to you. “I can’t wait! I’ll see you in a couple of days, Mr. Hong.”

“Get home safely.”

“Don’t be late to your meeting tomorrow! I set an alarm and everything!”

When you left him alone, his mind was swimming with a mix between how exhausted he was and how he could only imagine the dirtiest scenarios when you popped up in his head. Quite the normal night for him lately. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get you off of his mind, and even alcohol couldn’t make him cloud his detailed imagination. He trudged back into the kitchen, hoping he could finish the wine before he headed to bed.

The next morning, he was still late for his meeting.

Only the finest and the richest were allowed to attend the charity gala and you felt so out of place when you arrived alone. Sure, your dress was beautiful and designer or whatever, but being around the other guests who were much like your boss made you feel so little and almost like you stood out amongst the rest. Joshua told you he had some other business to take care of before arriving, so he told you to go ahead and order however many drinks you needed to calm yourself down and to put it on his tab, which was extremely dangerous because you were extremely tempted to buy out the entire bar.

An hour had passed since the doors opened to the gala and Joshua still wasn’t here.

“God, you really know how to keep a girl waiting, huh, Mr. Hong?” you muttered bitterly to yourself as you aggressively sent text after text to his phone next to the bar.

“He surely knows how to keep anyone waiting,” a familiar voice teased behind you. Turning around, your eyes widened to see the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on, Choi Seungcheol, clad in the blackest suit. “Miss _____,” he greeted.

“Oh, Mr. Choi!” you said enthusiastically. “It’s nice to see you again. You look dashing, as always.”

“Likewise, Princess. I feel like every time I bump into you, you’re always waiting on Mr. Joshua Hong.”

“I’ve spent at least half of my life waiting on him…”

“While you wait, can I join you for a drink?”

Well, of course you said yes.

Seungcheol was so easy to talk to and you always looked forward to a short conversation with him whenever you ran into each other. He was a great listener and actually contributed to the conversation, unlike other men in this industry you’ve encountered, although you often felt like melting under his fiery gaze whenever he looked at you as he listened. He wanted you to make sure that you knew he was attentive to you and you only.

After a few drinks and with little food in your stomach, you already started to feel a bit woozy. “My tolerance isn’t as high as it was several years ago,” you pouted.

“That’s your fault for not keeping up. You have Mr. Joshua and I to thank for building up your tolerance.”

“God, don’t remind me. You guys peer pressured me so much at your private meetings and Mr. Hong threatened to demote me if I said no, what other choice did I have!?”

Seungcheol chuckled lightly. “Hey, we’ve had some good times together, haven’t we?”

“Correction, Mr. Hong and your secretary had some good times together,” you scoffed.

“Ex-secretary,” he corrected. “She was absolutely terrible. My search for my own Miss _____ continues on.”

“Mr. Choi, you flatter me.”

“My offer to you as becoming my assistant is still on the table ~”

“And I’ll always humbly reject.”

“Ugh, Joshua doesn’t deserve you, you know,” he joked.

“Of course I know. Covering for his ass doesn’t get easier as the years go by.”

“I don’t mean to be rude or invasive, but lately I’ve been curious so I have to ask; doesn’t being Joshua’s assistant get in the way of your love life?”

You’ve received this question often, both as a joke and out of genuine curiosity. A healthy mix of your friends, curious women in the same department, and men like Seungcheol would ask you because God, you’ve been so kind and loyal to Joshua much longer than most romantic relationships and it’s a wonder why you don’t have someone to love for yourself. Then again, Joshua was probably literally the number one person in your life at the moment that any other person that tried to capture your heart would be too scared to get in between you two.

And that just fucking sucked for you, didn’t it? It’s not that Joshua forbade you to date or that you weren’t looking for a relationship, but the fact that being glued to Joshua’s side for the past seven years was the reason for your stunted love life made your heart wrench painfully.

But you would never trade being by your boss’s side for some temporary relationship, even if it meant you’d be single forever. You could at least assure yourself that you’d never feel alone if you were by his side.

You downed the remainder of your drink in your glass. “Absolutely, but it’s not his fault.”

“He doesn’t chase away all the scary men that prey after his little assistant?” Seungcheol teased.

“Hey! I am not HIS, ok, I am my own. And no, he doesn’t. My lack of a lovelife is my own doing.”

“Too focused on your work?”

“That’s the typical response, isn’t it?”

“It is. Aren’t you lonely, though?”

“Are you trying to date me, Mr. Choi?”

“You should already know the answer to that,” he said, nudging you playfully.

“I mean… Yes and no. Of course I’d love to be in a relationship or get married one day, but right now, I’m happy with where I am.”

“But you’re not lonely?”

“I’m with Mr. Hong six days out of the week, it’s a bit hard for me to feel lonely. I enjoy his company regardless.”

“Wow, he really doesn’t deserve you.”

“God, I know…”

“Ok, no more relationship talk. Tonight’s supposed to be a fun night! Let’s lighten up the mood.” Stepping away from the bar, Seungcheol held out his hand for you to take. “Will you dance with me?”

“Why Mr. Choi, of course I will.”

Joshua Hong was quite known for arriving fashionably late to any occasion - arriving late and leaving early was what he did best. Dressed in an all-burgundy suit, hair slicked back and ears decked with jewels, he finally walked into the ballroom. He really didn’t want to make you angry just days after your birthday, but he woke up late from his afternoon nap! So now he had to lie and say he had to take care of some other business as he rushed to get ready and now here he was, nearly two hours late.

Joshua scanned the entire ballroom for your red dress. First, he checked the bar. No sign of you there, surprisingly. Then, he checked the tables. He didn’t spot you sitting alone scowling at your phone.

The last place he expected to see you was on the dancefloor in the arms of man that wasn’t him.

He watched you dance casually with a grinning Seungcheol. The conversation you two were having must have been hilarious by the way you threw your head back to laugh at nearly everything he said. You and him danced with a reasonable amount of space in between, so Joshua wasn’t worried about the skinship you both shared. What really bothered him was the way you smiled at Seungcheol.

Joshua had never seen you so genuinely happy and enjoying yourself. You were never like that with him. You always kept things professional.

Annoyed by the scene in front of him, he sauntered over to you, trying to hide his grimacing face. Seungcheol was the first to notice his appearance, but that didn’t make him loosen his grip on you. Joshua didn’t miss the dangerous twinkle in his eyes.

“Mr. Joshua Hong, how nice of you to join us,” Seungcheol greeted.

“Oh, hi. How nice of you to finally join us,” you corrected.

Joshua ignored your scolding. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting something.”

“Not really,” you said, grinning up at Seungcheol. “Just two friends enjoying each other’s company.”

“I didn’t know you two were so close.”

“She looked kind of lonely earlier, so I thought I’d join her.” Seungcheol winked at you.

“How chivalrous of you,” Joshua seethed.

The tension between the two alpha males was making you uncomfortable. Joshua always hated events like these, which was why he always arrived late and stayed by the bar the whole night, and you figured that the lack of alcohol was why he was so grumpy right now. But he was always sort of protective over his little assistant whenever he saw someone take an interest in you. It was annoying to have to remind him every time that you are not just his ‘little assistant’ and that you are a totally capable adult that could flirt around here and there if you wanted to. But to avoid any mess you’d probably have to clean up later, you gave Seungcheol one last smile before dragging a glaring Joshua out to the giant outdoor balcony to cool off.

“It’s beautiful out tonight, isn’t it?” Joshua began once you both reached the edge. By the look of your unimpressed face, Joshua knew you weren’t up for playing games tonight. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. You’re extremely late. You were supposed to speak on the company’s behalf tonight about the donation and you missed it! I had to lie and say someone in the office had to go to the emergency room! What business was so important that you’re two hours late!?”

“I... woke up late from my nap.”

You sighed loudly. “You are a piece of work, Mr. Hong. I literally cannot believe that you graduated from high school and university without being expelled a million times for tardiness.”

“Ah, don’t lecture me so loud, people are looking.”

“And what the hell was that back there with Seungcheol!?”

“There you go again, calling him by his first name.”

“Mr. Hong, I’m serious -”

“Me, too.”

“I -” You paused mid-sentence to calm yourself down from all of the frustration that’s been building up. It wasn’t healthy to be mixing it with alcohol, either. You always hated the way your eyes would tear up from overwhelming amounts of frustration and when Joshua saw the stars reflect in your tired eyes, he thought that maybe he was overreacting just a bit. “What do you want me to say? I was just having fun. It’s not like there was anything going on.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me.”

“Well, maybe if you arrived on time, that could have been you and I having fun, not me and Seung- Mr. Choi.”

For the first time tonight, you saw Joshua smile. “You would have danced with me?”

“If you asked me to, sure.”

“Then let’s dance.”

Joshua stepped away from the edge of the balcony to the middle of the stone floor, waiting for you to join him like some fairytale prince. You looked at him with wide eyes, unable to comprehend how he could ignore all of the staring as he stood alone. Hurriedly, you joined him and tried to pull him back.

“What are you doing!? People are staring!” you hissed.

“Then let them stare. You said you would dance with me if I asked, so here I am asking.”

“There isn’t even any music playing.”

“So? You don’t need music to dance.” With his gentle hands, he took your right hand in his left, and the other caressed the small of your back. “As your boss, I am ordering you to dance with me.”

“Mr. Hong, this is unprofessional, everyone knows I’m your assistant.”

“So what? Stop caring about what other people think of us.” His words held a lighter weight to them than they should have as he swayed with you to the muffled music inside of the ballroom. “I just want to enjoy this moment being here with you. Just a boss and his assistant having fun. We’re having fun, right?”

You nodded silently, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes as you danced to the hushed music. Joshua pulled you in closer and you let him, allowing you to rest your tired head on his shoulders. Closing your eyes, you did as you were told - you didn’t let the stares of all the people bother you and you didn’t care about what they thought. You wanted to stay in this moment with your boss for as long as you could.

“I was right,” he whispered. “You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

Without a warning, he pressed the lightest kiss on top of your head. You’ve never felt your heart swell up so big before that you swear you could cry.

You don’t know how long you were dancing out there, but it was after the last song of the night faded into silence and you and Joshua were the last guests still occupying the venue. He was the first to step away from you. With his gentle hands, he lifted your chin up so you would look at him. You were flustered and confused, but you still looked stunning nonetheless.

“Come home with me,” he pleaded.

You nodded.

You and Joshua barely made it through his front door before his lips hungrily attacked your own. Seven whole years the both of you wondered what your lips tasted like and you finally got your answer. He was ready to slip the dress right off and take you right there, but that wouldn’t be romantic or professional for your first time with him, would it? Excitedly, he carried you up to his room and laid you down gently on the softest bed you’ve ever touched. Joshua crawled on top of you and for a while, he just looked at you, drinking in how beautiful your smile was and unable to believe that you were really, finally here with him.

“What?” you asked after a moment of silence.

“Nothing,” he reassured. “I’m just happy that you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

Light kisses trailed from your jawline to your neck until he found that one spot that drove you mad enough to curl your fingers through his hair. His deep moans tickled against your skin and Joshua adored how sensitive you were, all because of him.

He lips paused just above your ear. “Tell me one thing,” he whispered huskily. “What’s my name?”

You swallowed hard. You knew exactly what he was asking for. If it meant that he would continue with what he was doing, then you’ll do as your told.

“Joshua,” you said.

He moaned in approval and his lips continued.

“Good girl.”

[chillihansol]

When your requests open do you think you could do a friends to lovers with vernon ? ♥️ love your writing btw 😊👍🏼

+ anonymous said: #47 #17 + Vernon!

Title: Coward Lovegenre: friends to lovers, fluffword count: 1,176 words

17:“Can I hold your hand?”47:“Here’s my number. Call me.”

“Here’s my number. Call me.”

A piece of paper—torn from a packet of cigarette with messily scribbled digits written on it—is silently resting on top of the counter. You stare at it, sighing deeply. The man beside you huffs as your finger flicks the paper away. There’s no way you’ll call that guy.

“He’s kind of cute, though.” Vernon chuckles, after taking a gulp of soda.

“He’s totally not.” you deadpan, rolling your eyes and shifting on your seat to face the figure of your best friend.

He himself turns as well, knees bumping on yours, clad with denim jeans. The layers of clothing separating the skin contact is barely felt as electricity flows through your bloodstream. 

Years of repressing your feelings for your best friend, yet it still exist in your heart. Every time he’s near, your heart skips a beat. Even when he does nothing but breathe, his existence is enough for your mind to create chaos and the butterflies are having a party on the pit of your stomach. It is surprising that he never notices the change in your body language whenever he props his heavy and lean arm around your shoulder, or when he comes out from your back and wraps himself on your torso, or when he calls your name once he sees your figure five meters away from him. Everyone thinks that you are in a stable relationship with Vernon, but you always reply that it’s rather a stable friendship. 

He’s naturally caring when it comes to you, and it makes you wonder if he only does this because you are his important friend, or he also feels something for you. 

Vernon only wants happiness for you. So here you are with him, sitting on the kitchen stools of Choi Seungcheol’s party.

Your gaze rests on the plaid pattern of his over sized button down shirt, trying to avert your focus on his slightly exposed chest. Vernon lightly taps a finger on your knee, but you refuse to look up.

“Okay,” he sighs, placing his drink on the counter. He grabs both of your hands with his bigger ones, applying pressure on the tired fields of them. 

Your shoulders relax from the sensation of his fingers against your skin. “Okay what?”

“I need you to lower your standards and call that handsome guy who just gave you his number.” he says, rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“I’m not calling Wen Junhui, okay?” you groan, throwing your head back. You hate it when Vernon attempts to set you up with guys, when you only want him and no else.

He looks perplexed from hearing the boy’s name from your lips. “You know him?”

Finally, you look at him directly, resisting the massive butterflies. His gaze is always soft, hazel brown eyes looking as innocent as ever, and he looks extra cute when he’s surprised, like now. 

“He’s in my Contemporary Arts class. He probably never sees me because I always sit at the back of the room.” you tiredly explain, lids slowly shutting down.

With this, he sighs and lets go of your hand. You almost reach for them again from the lost of his touch. “You’re going to die single, Y/N.” he shakes his head, taking another drink.

“I know.”

“You don’t have to be.” he whispers, looking down at his own lap.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, nothing.” he says, coaxing the lie. “You have morning classes tomorrow, right? Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

Vernon is by your side as you walk home. The road along seems so silent, shining lights from the posts are serving as your guide with him. Dragging your heavy feet as you walk together, he has both of his hands inside of the pocket of his jeans. Your eyes keep switching between your feet and his hands every time the night breeze blows on the exposed parts of your skin.

You two walk slowly, taking your time together.

“Hey,” you call him, his head turning slightly as he hums in response. “Can I hold your hand?”

Without a word, he takes your palm with his, warmth immediately transferring on your skin. He pulls you closer to him, sharing more of his body heat with you, and intertwines his fingers.

No wonder why everyone thinks you and him are in a relationship.

As an instinct, your free hand finds its way to grasp his upper arm, leaning your temple on the corner of his broad shoulder. Vernon sighs in content and comfort, having you close, safe and sound with him. No matter how many dates or guys he tries to set you up with, there is never a time he gets afraid of the thought of someone actually succeeding. As selfish as it may sound, sometimes he wishes for the set up dates to fail, so he can have you for his own.

But he’s too afraid to risk your built friendship with him.

So he stays silent as possible.

“I heard what you said earlier.” you whisper, closing your eyes for a few seconds.

Vernon bites his lip, squeezing your hands from his grip, and rubs circles with his thumb. His hand fits perfectly with yours. “You don’t really have to be.”

“You know, you should stop trying so hard to find someone for me. It’s time for you to be happy as well.” 

“No one is out there for me.” he replies, tapping and adding rhythm on your hand.

“I am.” 

Vernon stops on his track, so do you. As you peel yourself from him, he spins you so you’re facing his dashing figure. He looks down at you with fond expression. There’s a spark of hope in his eyes that he wishes you can’t see. 

“Do you love me, Y/N?”

Your breath hitches on your throat, palms starting to sweat. “I always do.”

“Then let’s be together.”

Right away, you turn your body to face him, eyes gazing confusedly at his own, waiting for him to claim his sentence as some kind of joke, but no hesitation builds up from him as he shows complete sincerity (while also hiding the nervousness screaming through his bloodstream) as he waits for you answer.

“Hansol, are you–”

“Hey, that’s subjective, so you have no choice. And it’s not a question for you to turn down.” his lips suddenly perks, raising an eyebrow.

You bite your bottom lip, glancing at your shoes to hide the forming blush at the apples of your cheeks. “Okay.” in a second, you squeezed his hands and get back to resting your head against him.

He chuckles beside you, then plants a soft kiss on the crown of your head, as the two silently walk, hand in hand, with the moonlight and stars shining for your hidden feelings.

You two are a bunch of cowards. 

a/n: this is terrible, im so sorry.

[softhaos]

MODERN FAIRYTALE – THE8

pairing – xu minghao x reader genre – fluff warning – none word count – 461 words

drabbles loosely inspired by fairytales & the one where he visits your grounded ass at midnight  aka rapunzel but without the damsel acting as a ladder

part of the modern fairytale series

Wherever Minghao went, a storm was bound to follow.

Minghao himself wasn't the epitome of chaos but he was a wildfire indeed. He liked to shape the rules to his liking whenever he couldn't get what he wanted and though he had no bad intentions, the consequences usually were. Sometimes he got away, sometimes he didn't. But most of the times, it was the innocent bystander who got caught up in cleaning up his doings.

You wouldn't say that ever since you became an official thing, Minghao had turned to the better. Though it was true that he had managed to keep himself at bay and tried not to do whatever he pleased, it was foolish to say that it was all thanks to you. There were some things that he just couldn't let go of and he was smart enough to make his plans reality when nobody was watching.

With the exception of you, that is.

Whenever he craved to see you, nothing could stop him. Parties couldn't, his friends couldn't, his fed-up neighbor (who kept hoping that one day, he'd get in very deep trouble and get arrested simply because of that one time he smashed a flower pot) couldn't and not even his own parents could refrain him from doing what he pleased. If he could get past all of that, the fact that your parents grounded you were mere child's play for him.

And so it happened that you got a text message in the ungodly hours of the night demanding to open the window that faced the main road. And because the sender wasn't anyone you could ignore – considering the ungodly time – you did as told and honestly, you shouldn't have been so surprised seeing Minghao halfway up a tree to jump into your room. He was crazy and reckless and brought himself to many worthless risks. Many thought he could do better. You thought that made Minghao, well, Minghao.

“You're so dead if someone catches you here,” you chastised yet granted him access to your room anyway. Minghao didn't reply, just casually shrugged it off as if climbing into your place was nearly routine and ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. He knew how much it affected you and judging by your scowl, he knew it worked. Even as you lightly flicked his forehead, he only flashed you a sly grin.

Knowing that you were about to give him a harder smack against his forehead because of the lack of answer, he caught your wrist in time, inches before your fingers grazed his skin and said without tearing his gaze away from you, the smirk still lasting on his face, “It takes more than death to stop me from visiting you.”

[forevershua-blog]

What’s Wrong

Genre: angst

Member(s): Joshua

Words count: 350

Trigger warning: none

You don’t know what’s wrong.

It was all fine, your marriage with Joshua.

You don’t know when the downfall started, you don’t know what mistake you had done, you just know he stopped talking one day.

Now it’s hard to ignore the fact that he kept “forgetting” to bring his clothes and shoes home after the days spent at his company practicing for his comeback, that his side of the bed is more often cold and untouched, or that instead of his favourite chocolate bars and fresh produces, the fridge is now stuffed with the leftovers of what you cooked for two, wishing for him to come home.

-

He came home one day, already too late in the night, unintentionally waking you up when he turned up the light of your shared bedroom. You were ready to tell him you watched the variety show he’s starred in on the TV two days ago, and that you cooked his favourite braised beef earlier, in case he hadn’t had dinner yet.

But you saw the tired expression on his face as he headed straight to the closet, stuffed his duffel with his clothes and you knew he wouldn’t be home for another week. You didn’t say a single word even until he was gone.

-

He came home few days later, when you were still at work. Almost nothing changed when you came home, no sticky notes on the fridge nor he texted you that he was home. But his mug was gone, so was his game console and his collections of CDs. You called him to ask about it. He didn’t pick up.

-

07.10 Tue - 17.29 (You): Joshua

07.10 Tue - 17.29 (You): Don’t you think I deserve explanation?

-

07.13 Fri - 19.11 (You): Am I invisible now?

-

12.19 Wed - 10.13 (You): They sent the paperworks to your office.

12.19 Wed - 10.13 (You): Let’s get this over with quickly.

-

[Please enter your new password]

[******]

[Door password change is successful]

-

He looks as calm as always, you thought as you see him on TV. He still has that sparkly eyes that contain mischievous glints inside, along with that calm smile you know never fail to drag people in.

He looks fine.

You still don’t know what’s wrong.

But it’s over.

[lxveille]

eye of the storm

seventeen ensemble & reader

word count: ~ 5180 warnings: mild use of profanity; mentions of misdemeanor crimes a/n: coauthored and graphic by the amazing @minigum; au inspired by the tv series misfits

When you were sentenced to community service, you had no way of anticipating just how much it would live up to the promise of being a life changing experience -- even on day one. 

You know your morning is off to a promising start when you spend much of it wondering how many good days begin in orange jumpsuits while wearing one. “So,” a woman starts, addressing everyone. Despite having the kind of authority afforded on sheer principle of being the only one there not resembling a traffic cone, Probational Officer Kim looked disinterested at best. You didn’t blame her, to be honest – she probably had better things to do then to babysit a bunch of small-time offenders. There’s seven of you lined up in a row in front of her, expressions at varying degrees of discomfort on everyone’s face. Some, like the pretty boy next to you, looked just as bored as Kim did, while others seemed as relaxed as anyone would be while trying to be inconspicuous about swallowing something far too spicy. “Let me get this straight,” her tone is so unironically matter of fact that any chance that existed of her finishing her sentence with I’m not is next to zero. Not that you thought she would in the first place, but she was clearly not in the mood to joke around. “You guys are ruining my morning, and I’m sure I’m ruining yours, too.” “You’re not ruining ours!” Someone pipes up, all eyes flicking towards the speaker. His voice is far too bright for the early hour, though you had to admire his attempt to lighten the mood. He’s even grinning, toothy smile pushing his already noticeable cheeks forward into more prominence. “Okay,” Kim does not look impressed, something that causes the joviality in his posture to wilt to sheepishness. “You guys are ruining my morning, and I’m not ruining yours, but I will be. Unless you like picking up trash.”

Each of you is handed a trash bag and a grabber, with more trash bags nearby should you need it – and you will, judging by the fact that the park you’re in is more of a haphazard rubbish heap than anything else. It was almost as if the people responsible were trying to aim for literally everything but a bin. “You’re here because each of you has screwed up.” Her words lack the kind of accusation usually present in a reprimand, a clear indicator of how long she’s been doing this for. “I don’t know how, and to be honest, I don’t care how. The only thing I care about is you all getting the job done. So, get it done and I’ll be able to dismiss you sooner rather than later. Simple enough, right? Let’s not make this harder that it has to be.” With a comment related to how she’ll check up on you in an hour or so, Kim disappears towards the direction of the nearby community centre. An awkward silence settles in the wake of her departure. Her instructions, while clear, hadn’t quite gone into depth about the extent of the park that needed cleaning, and this one was big enough to get lost in.

Someone optimistic could perhaps claim this was an intentional team building exercise, considering the camaraderie that currently existed was built on a shaky foundation of crime without the excessive commitment. Someone could, but you had your doubts – the more realistic explanation was that Kim most likely didn’t care enough to be more specific.   

“As far as first impressions go, that could’ve gone better.” You’d decided that the only thing worse than an awkward silence in a one-on-one conversation was one shared between a group of people, but that still doesn’t quite prevent the momentary flare of anxiety at having six heads whip towards you at once.

Thankfully, your attempt at breaking the silence works. “If you wanted to make a good first impression on our probational officer, not having her as a probational officer in the first place would be a good start.”

What stands out the most from the person that’s decided to respond to your comment is the way he’s decided to wear his uniform. Black lines of marker are scrawled all over the article of clothing in drawings, though you’re not close enough to determine what of. It’s an edgy look, but one that suits him.

You go to respond, but someone gets there first. It’s the one who tried to gain some points with Kim through a winning smile alone. “She probably just needs time to warm up to us,” he says. A bold statement, considering you were literally all delinquents to some degree, though you can somewhat admire the harmless enthusiasm behind it.

“She might need more than that if we continue standing here.”

Someone else cuts into the group conversation. He’s distinct from the rest of the group in that unlike the rest, he’s only got his jumpsuit half on, the sleeves of the garment tied at waist height to expose his torso as well as tank top he’s worn underneath. He’s in agreement, telling you – and the group by extension – that you’re right. “It’ll probably be easiest for us if we split up.”

When everyone turns to look at him, Seungcheol, as he introduced himself, explained that he frequented this park enough to know that it was split into four areas: the playground, the skatepark, the riverbank and the open grass.

The first three could probably be dealt with in pairs (or more, considering the odd amount of people here), and as for the lattermost, everyone could tackle it after dealing with their assigned area. No one protests, some even offering vocal agreements, most likely relieved at having a clearer idea of what to do.

Of course, before the problems of organizing partners could be delved into, there was one more thing you all had to do first – introductions.

Literal sunny side up – at least in amounts of cheer alone – is Soonyoung. He seems the friendliest out of this motley bunch, mainly by virtue of being the only one you’ve seen actually smile. Still, you couldn’t quite find it in you to blame the rest for their expressions of varying neutrality.

Minghao, the one who looks like a walking sketchpad, is next. Alongside his name however, he adds the crime that he’s here for – you’re not all that surprised to find out he’s doing time for vandalism. It’s entirely believable, considering the current state of his uniform, but something about the way he carries himself has a part of you that is surprised at the fact that he got caught.

Vernon appears to be zoning out a little when it’s his turn, prefacing his name with an apology about how he’s still half asleep. He’s the second one to reveal his misdemeanor, apparently following Minghao’s lead, and it’s a case of trespassing. To his credit, he didn’t sound bothered by it whatsoever.

The bored pretty boy from earlier is Jeonghan. While you sense less disinterest from him, there’s still a debonair quality to his presence that makes him just feel distant in the way one would rather admire beauty from afar as not to spoil anything. He’s nearly too refined to be here except for the fact that, well, he is here, so you wonder what exactly he did that got him community service.

Wonwoo is last, and his introduction is perhaps the shortest – not much else other than a name. It combos with his sharp, feline-like eyes and blank features in a manner that is most definitely intimidating. You can’t quite tell if the way he’s looking at the group is with a glare or not, but getting confirmation wasn’t quite on your to do list, considering it made for a poor ice-breaker.

With that out of the way, Seungcheol begins to assign people to areas. You listen for the most part, but are also caught up in wondering how long it’s going to take you to remember everybody’s names.

Aside from Wonwoo at the playground with a trash grabber sounding like a Cluedo accusation, it is the current state of your circumstances for the next while.

He had offered you a nod when Seungcheol suggested the two of you as partners since you were standing beside each other (Jeonghan was as well, but he’d ended up with the de facto leader instead), enough that you began to reassess your opinion on him from thinking he’s intimidating to someone who simply had an unfortunate case of resting bitch face.

“So, what are you here for?” You ask, beginning to fill your bag with various forms of litter. It’s evident from the stuff you find that this playground is a hot spot for those too old to use the playground for its intended purpose – fast food cartons, beer bottles and the like all make their way into your bag.

“Unlawful assembly,” is his initial response. It’s the only other words he’d said aside from his introduction earlier, not nearly enough time for you to get used to the deep timbre of his voice.

“Really?”

A hum of affirmation. When you press him for more details, making sure to assure him that he wasn’t obligated to tell you beforehand, he continues, encouraged by your active interest. ‘I was at an environmental protest and the authorities were called on us.’ He’d been one of the ones that had gotten arrested, but this information didn’t seem to trouble him too much, considering this admission had lacked any bitterness.

“And the protest? How did it turn out?”

“Good, I think.” They had at least put a stop to the immediate plans regarding deforestation, though Wonwoo does mention that he’s not quite sure how long for. If it came down to it, there’ll be another protest, and he’ll definitely attend that one was well.

“That’s some poetic justice for the trees,” then, after a brief pause, you decide to add, “which would be… poet-tree, wouldn’t it?”

The joke feels a little flat coming out of your mouth, but Wonwoo chuckles, nose scrunching in an amusement that, in the best way possible, extinguishes any lingering assumption about him being intimidating. “Poet-tree, huh. I like it.” He wonders next if that made him a regular Edgar Allan Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe isn’t a tree, though,” you point out.  

“No, it’s a tree parasite,” Wonwoo agrees. “But it was the only thing I could think of.”

“Hm,” you make an exaggerated noise of mock thought, relishing in the sudden sense of ease you felt in talking to him. “Points for trying, I suppose.”

Wonwoo laughs once again, and you find yourself smiling too. “I appreciate it.”

The two of you continue chatting in a similar manner while cleaning up the playground – he listens attentively when you go through the reason why you got assigned to community service, you call him over to get his opinion on a particularly loud and confusing scrawl of graffiti (he tells you it’s art, but the end tapers off into a question). It’s enough to occupy you that you don’t notice the sudden ominous quality to the sky, a clear omen visible in the dark clouds.

You do, however, notice when the first of the hailstones begin to hit.

It starts small, with pricks of rain and small pellets of ice pattering around you and making you wince when a few strike your shoulders. You lift one arm up to shield your eyes from the sudden hail as you take in the grayed sky with a dumbfounded expression.

“This wasn’t on the forecast,” Wonwoo comments beside you, his trash grabber an awkward extension of the arm he has up in a position similar to your own.

You might have had time to appreciate the vague humor of such a plain statement of the obvious if for the sudden crash of a much larger, more concerning hailstone on one of the benches across the playground. It’s larger than a fist. From this distance, you hope it’s just a trick of the eye that has you thinking it’s actually put a dent in the wood. Wonwoo’s sudden exclamation of “oh, fuck!” has you thinking it might not be.

It takes a second, larger chunk of ice impacting to jolt either one of you into movement.

The bottles inside your trash bag clatter when you drop it in favor of running for cover. Wonwoo’s on the same page, though his his plastic bag makes it several steps with him before he abandons it entirely, some waste spilling out when he does.

So you find yourself cramped under the playground slide with Wonwoo, looking worriedly up at the low-hanging clouds.

A crack of thunder seems to announce the full force of the storm, as the pattering against the metal overhead becomes an insistent, unnerving, and uneven rhythm of heavy sleet pelting down.

You turn to look at Wonwoo, and find him looking almost inquisitively at the slide overhead. He has one hand against it to help steady himself in the crouched position and frown on his lips that has you worried. You try to shift into a more comfortable position, but with the slope where you’ve ended up there’s no way for you to sit without at least your shoulder pressing uncomfortably against the metal.

Somewhere else in the park, you think you hear the sound of someone else shouting indistinctly. You swallow thickly and flinch when it’s followed by particularly loud bang of ice against the slide overhead.

“Did you see that?” Wonwoo asks. His gaze is fixed on the sky somewhere to the left of where you are.

“What happened?” As you shake your head, you hear something almost like a sizzle in the air, and nearly add on a question of if he’s hearing it too.

You don’t get the chance, nor does Wonwoo get around to answering your question. At least not before there’s a simultaneous roar of thunder and a jolt shock of electricity through your body.

For a moment, there’s absolutely nothing at all. Your mind is blank and you don’t see or hear a thing.

When you come back to consciousness, it’s to the feeling of rain on your face and a dull, vibrating and burning sensation in your shoulder. Sitting up slowly, there’s a whirl of dizziness that keeps you from spotting Wonwoo right away. He’s in a similar looking state, drenched and pressing one hand to his forehead as he coughs a few times.

You call his name once, though your throat feels impossibly dry and it comes out more like a croak. You try again, louder, and push yourself onto your feet slowly.

“I’m alive,” he replies. Perhaps mostly as an affirmation to himself of the fact more than anything else.

“We have to get out of this,” you decide, still not entirely certain if you’re seeing or walking straight. Wonwoo nods when he meets your eye.

To be frank, you can’t exactly place if you’re running or walking towards the community centre. You still don’t feel entirely all together. A fair feeling, you’d like to think, for someone who’s just been electrocuted on their first day of community service.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan are already in community centre when the two of you stumble in. You spot Seungcheol first, namely because of the pacing he’s doing just inside the the glass doors of the entrance. Jeonghan is sitting in one of the plastic chairs by the vending machine, hair sticking to his  forehead and a splatter of mud on his jumpsuit that suggests getting back here hadn’t been entirely without issue for them, either.

The door clicks back into place behind Wonwoo, and for a moment the sound the ongoing storm is all there is in the room as the four of you look each other over. Seungcheol breaks the silent exchanges of looks by asking if you’re both alright. Wonwoo must not be any more up for explaining you both might have just nearly died than you are, because you both brush the question with half-hearted nods and assurances that you were okay.

“Did you see the others out there at all?” he asks next.

For the first time, you let yourself wonder if the shouting you’d heard shortly before your shock had been one of them. Through the fuzz of your current state, you can only clearly recall Soonyoung’s voice; probably in part thanks to the impression his attempt at lifting the mood earlier had left. It’s difficult to say it’s a match to the distant panic you’d overheard, all the same.

It isn’t long that the small group of you have to wonder where the three missing offenders are. Soonyoung throws the door open not long after with such force that the clatter makes for good competition against the claps of thunder outside. He’s followed by the lanky boy you remember having introduced himself as Minghao, and a whole puddle seems to accompany their frazzled entrance.

“Is Vernon here?” asks Soonyoung, panting and missing almost all the optimism he’d seemed to have earlier.

“He was with you, wasn’t he?” Jeonghan pipes up, still sitting with his forearms resting on his thighs.

“He was,” confirms Minghao, and there’s a grimness in the combination of his expression and his of the past tense that makes you glance around at the others nervously. “We… don’t know where he went,” he elaborates at last.

Seungcheol stares for a moment at the pair of them before asking what happened. “We don’t know! We were all heading back and then – I don’t know!” Soonyoung gives what can only be described as a frantic shrug, hands waving wildly. In the corner of the room, Jeonghan stands up to come in a little closer to the conversation. “He just was gone all of a sudden!”

“Did you look for him?” There’s a definite tone of concern in Seungcheol’s voice. You might have admired the the care he’s showing for a relative stranger if not for the small dose of dread creeping up your spine as the expressions around the room somehow grow more serious than they already were.

Minghao explains that they tried, and Soonyoung cuts in the middle of it to gesture frantically at the windows as evidence for why they didn’t stay out there. Why they’d hoped somehow he’d gotten back here without them seeing him. You can’t exactly blame them.

“We can’t leave him out there,” Wonwoo chimes in.

“We can’t go back out there,” you reply instantly, provoked by the lingering stinging on your shoulder.

Soonyoung sends a worried frown Minghao’s way before starting again. “It’s not like we want to leave him out there though! Did you guys see some of the hail that was coming down? What if he’s… ”

“Then why did you come back without him in the first place?” Wonwoo’s voice comes out a touch more accusatory than you imagine he intended. Or at least he’d hardly given you the impression of being the sort who would try to be combative in a time like this in the brief time you’ve known him thus far.

“We’ll go back out there!” Soonyoung reacts instantly. There’s enough distress evident in his voice that you suspect he was feeling guilty before Wonwoo even spoke up.

Jeonghan frowns, folding his arms and sending a glance from the glass-paneled doors to Seungcheol, who is already starting in more sharply on how charging back out into the storm is far from being a good idea.

You close your eyes. The argument stops. Not only the argument, but the thudding of the storm as well, along with the faint buzz of the overhead lights you hadn’t even noticed had been there until it had stopped.

Your eyes open to find it all to be true. Impossibly true. Everyone and everything is still. Soonyoung’s mouth is still parted in the midst of his words; Seungcheol’s hand is lifted, frozen at an unnaturally still place in the air, in the middle of a gesture to try to quiet the others. You turn and Wonwoo is a similar frozen state, eyes unblinking. It’s as if suddenly they’ve all been replaced with wax figures of themselves from only a moment before.

It’s so entirely still that you’re nearly afraid to move. It almost feels like you shouldn’t be able to. But you lift an unsteady hand to your face and take a small step forward all the same. You start slow, walking into the middle of the small circle of new acquaintances and looking desperately for any sign of movement. You step closer to Minghao. Even his hair is stuck still, halfway back to falling in place after he’d ran a hand through it nervously. Your hand presses tentatively against his shoulder, your mind starting to spin from the need for anyone respond at all. His body shifts just slightly with the pressure you apply, but there’s no sign he’s aware of it at all.

A heavy, shaking breath passes your lips. You pass Jeonghan to get to the door and press your hand against the glass in dismay when you look outside.

The storm has stopped, but it hasn’t ceased. Rain and hail alike are halted midair, hanging like ominous ornaments without strings or hooks. An expletive slips out with the rest of the air from your lungs. You bend forward and press the heel of your palm to the bridge of your nose. This can’t be happening.

It simply can’t. This isn’t what reality is.   

You try to take in a calming breath, but your mind is still whirring, and your heart racing.

You have to get a grip on yourself.

You start counting to five over and over inside your head, and insist you inhale and exhale to the steady rhythm of it. Confusion is still front and center of your mind, but the technique manages to trick your heartbeat into evening out, and loosens some of the worrisome knots in your gut.

There’s a thud of hail and a heavy drumming of rain. Soonyoung is finishing his sentence, and Seungcheol is telling him they all have to calm down.

You whirl around, hand falling to your side, in time to see Minghao stumble slightly to his left before finding his balance, his brow creasing some at this sudden bout of unsteadiness.

Jeonghan catches your wide-eyed gaze when you look his way. He frowns, and glances back to the empty spot by Wonwoo’s side before shooting you another look.

“We won’t be able to help him if we go out there now,” Seungcheol declares, “There will only be more of us in danger is we rush out in that storm again. I don’t like it, but we have to wait for at least the hail the let up.” There’s an authority to this tone that seems to convince Soonyoung.

It becomes a tense waiting game from there, and you spend most of it still too distracted by the oddity you’d just experienced to take much note of what scattered and worrisome conversation there is between the others. You do notice when Minghao sits up and remarks that the storm stopped.

The lot of you look towards the doors with varying degrees of surprise. But it’s true. The sky is still overcast, and some of the clouds continue to look ominous, but the downpour has turned to nothing more than a sprinkling, and there’s not a single hailstone to be heard rattling against the windows.

“I’m going to look for him,” is Minghao’s second announcement. You volunteer to go with him before you can think it over.

“I’ll come too,” Jeonghan offers, standing up from the same folding chair he’d been in when you’d first took shelter in the lobby.

“We’ll keep an eye out here in case he shows up,” Seungcheol agrees to the plan with a small, firm nod.

The wind is still heavy with humidity and an unseasonable chill as the three of you set out. Hail littering the pavement crunches under your shoes, and you try not to think of the possibility that the storm could pick up again.

Whatever anxious thoughts your mind can summon are put aside when Jeonghan asks if you’re alright, with something suspicious lying just beneath his tone. You stop scanning the surroundings for another orange jumpsuit to look his way, and a stone of uncertainty settles in the pit of you stomach at the look you find on his face. It’s almost the same as the glance he’d given you when everything had clicked back into motion; though perhaps more intense this time around.

“You seemed off in there,” he elaborates his reason for asking. You consider telling him he hasn’t known you long enough to know if you’re off or not, but the frightful memory of a frozen world keeps the words locked inside your head. If Jeonghan doesn’t mean to set you on edge, he ought to have picked a different tone than the weighty one he’d just used.

“We’re all off. This storm is freaky,” Minghao cuts in before you stutter out anything in reply, and you give a sigh that’s a mix of relief and agreement. “Let’s just focus on finding Vernon for now.”

Jeonghan catches you gaze once more before saying, “Sure. You’re right.” You suspect he won’t be letting go of the subject forever, all the same.

The search party only makes it halfway back to the park when Minghao suddenly calls out Vernon’s name. Oddly, he seems to be exactly where you’d just been looking a moment before. It’s unclear how exactly you could miss someone wearing a color known for its visibility.

Vernon’s drier than you’d expect of someone who’d been stuck in storm as strong as the one that’s just passed. Stranger still is that when Minghao asks where he went, his answer is a half-panicked, half-dazed, “I’m not sure.”

“What does that mean?” you ask, but all Vernon can manage is a shake of his head as he leans forward, resting hands on his knees as if steadying himself. That’s when you spot some of the grains of sand clinging to the back of his jumpsuit. Jeonghan, you note, is looking him over with the same expression you’d been on the receiving end of only minutes before.

“Let’s get you back to the community center. Do you think you can make it?”

“I was at a beach,” Vernon admits instead of answering Minghao’s question.

The problem, of course, is that there is no beach nearby at all. Jeonghan gives a hum that suggests he’s thinking much the same thing. But instead he joins Minghao’s side and comments a simple, “Let’s just get back.”

Vernon pauses several times on the walk back, sometimes muttering apologies or confessing he feels like he’s about to get sick.

Thankfully, Vernon’s queasiness doesn’t manage to take any further hold of him. It still begs the question of where he nausea and the stray flecks of sand sticking to his clothes came from, but you feel far from ready to take those on.

Seungcheol opens the door urgently as soon as you’re approaching the entrance to the community center. He calls out to ask if Vernon’s alright; a reasonable question given the rough look of him. Minghao waits until you make it back inside to reply that he’s not feeling well, but seems to okay.

The door falls back into place while you and Jeonghan guide Vernon over to a seat. He keeps his head down and murmurs a quiet thanks.

“Was the door like that before or, uh… we’re you done for destruction of property?” comes a voice stuck that’s verging more on nervousness than humorous. Your brow furrows as you look up from Vernon’s paled face to give Soonyoung a questioning look and find he’s directing the question at Seungcheol.

It’s Seungcheol’s nervous glance down that draws your own sight to the pull-handle of the door. Or rather, to the prominent dent in the handle. It certainly hadn’t been there before.

“I —” Seungcheol doesn’t manage to come up with a full reply as he frowns down at his hand, flexing his fingers in disbelief. Wonwoo reaches for the handle himself, clearly trying to see if somehow it wasn’t as much of a feat as it seemed.

“Has anything like that ever happened to you before?” you speak up, uneasiness settling firmly into you for what must be the third time since the storm.

“Never,” is Seungcheol faint but certain reply.

A nervous tension fills the air in the silence that follows, glances exchanged between each other as each of you fails to find an appropriate response to the circumstance. That is, until Jeonghan sits up a bit straighter in his chair beside Venon.

“Something’s going on here,” he says, “First he disappears in the middle of the storm and comes back suddenly nauseous? Then you –” and he gestures a hand your way with the words, “ – appear across the room in an instant? Now, we’re putting dents in metal?”

“Just Seungcheol,” Wonwoo clarifies on the last point, much to the apparent discomfort of the boy in question. “What are you trying to suggest, then? None of that adds up.”

“But it has to somehow, doesn’t it?”

Silence settles back over the group of you in the wake of Jeonghan’s words. You contemplate telling them about what happened; about how from your perspective things didn’t go quite the way that Jeonghan had phrased it. It might not help, but it would be something, wouldn’t it?

The sound of footsteps down the hall jolt all of you to shift your stances some.

When Officer Kim appears in front of you, she comes to a stop with a half-surprised huh. “Good. You’re all here. At least you had enough sense not to say out in the rain.”

Rain? You think to yourself, wanting to call it an understatement.

Kim goes on, explaining how the extenuating circumstances mean you can all go home for the day, and how she expects to see you all back early tomorrow for day two. Her arms are crossed the whole time, her tone implying she’s only going through the motions. If it weren’t for a paperwork you’re certain must be involved, you wouldn’t be surprised if she would’ve been glad if one of you had been swept away in the storm.

She finishes her small lecture, but none of you move to leave. As prompts the probation officer to give each one of you a skeptical look over, unfolding her arms to gesture towards the doors like she’s shooing away a pest. “Well? You’re dismissed. You don’t have to stick around here.”

Slowly, the seven of you get into motion again. There’s a sense that the conversation you’d been in the middle of is far from over, but it’s unclear if any of you really want the opportunity to carry on with it.

All you can say for sure is that community service is off to a drastically different start than you’d anticipated.

[hungline]

happy pride month 🏳‍🌈 + gyuhaoxjun

knowing when it’s right

pairings: jungyuhao, minor seokhoon genre: fluff, friends to lovers au, rated t warnings: mentions of a threesome a/n: happy pride month! it’s almost over and i still have a few of these left :(words: 345 

summary: Junhui is oblivious, but he is definitely not as bad as Jihoon when it comes to feelings, no matter what Mingyu and Minghao claim. 

+ tag list: @dimplemono @kirtikagarg @disrespectfulkookies @ksjinandtonic ✨

“Is this a date?” Junhui asks.

Mingyu and Minghao exchange gazes before looking back at him, their dark brown eyes imploring him to speak more.

Junhui hesitates. “It’s just that… You two are being a lot more touchy with me than usual. I mean, if this isn’t a date and just a way for you guys to have a threesome with me, I’m going to make it clear that isn’t what I want.”

“What do you want?” Minghao asks him, head tipping to the side as he raises a brow at him. “Tell us.”

“You,” Junhui blurts, blushing a dark red. “Both of you.”

Mingyu laughs. “Then why no threesome?”

Junhui averts his gaze, hands twisting together in his lap. He says nothing though and Minghao decides to repeat Mingyu’s question, wondering if it’ll make any difference that they are both asking.

“Why no threesome, Jun?”

“Because,” Junhui sighs, looking down at his fingers instead of the two men in front of him. “I like you guys. In a more than friends kind of way. I don’t want just sex from you.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing neither of us wants just sex from you either,” Minghao replies steadily, both of his brows raised now.

Junhui chances a look up and smiles when he catches a glimpse of the stupid grin on Mingyu’s face. “Was this fun for both of you? Watching me squirm because of feelings?”

“Yes,” Mingyu says unabashedly. “You’re just as bad as Jihoon when it comes to feelings. That’s why it took forever for him and Seokmin to get together.”

“Shut up, I am not,” Junhui pouts.

Minghao smiles causing the edges of his mouth to curl up into his cheeks and melt Junhui’s heart simultaneously. “You’re definitely worse than Jihoon. Also, yes this is a date. It’s actually our fifth date with you.”

Junhui sputters but shuts up immediately when Mingyu kisses him softly. Minghao is there as soon as Mingyu has pulled away and Junhui spends the rest of the night sharing kisses with his two new boyfriends.

[chilligyu]

info: kim mingyu/reader (feat ot13), teen, f2l genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5k warnings: mentions of devils lettuce summary: she never feared change, not once. not until change meant that her childhood best friend was slowly turning into her first love. note: @mingtiddies thank you for always validating me, so here have part one of a potentially five part series. and thanks to the usual suspects, @dimp1ejoon, @dreamystuffers, and @e-therealepiphany for lending a helping hand. warnings will adjust in later parts!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

Every day begins and ends with change. At least that’s what her father used to say when she was growing up. And if she was being completely honest she had no idea what he meant by that. Still, it was a nice sentiment, and it meant that change had never been scary for her. In fact, she welcomed it with open arms. Change wasn’t always good but it was necessary, because every day would begin and end with it.

For years there had been one resolute constant in her life, one thing that hadn’t changed. His name was Mingyu and he was her very best friend in the whole wide world. They grew up just a stone’s throw away from each other, walked to school every single day, and spent almost every single second together. It would be hard to imagine one without the other, they were kindred spirits, partners in crime, tied together by mischief and laughter.

Which was why it was so heartbreaking when he moved away.

That was the first time that she ever really hated change because suddenly she lost her movie buddy, her sous chef, her trauma surgeon, and so much more. Her dad kept reminding her that it was just another part of life, that those sorts of things happen for a reason but she didn’t care. Saying goodbye to her best friend was probably the hardest thing she ever had to do. They held each other in her driveway and cried for what seemed like hours until their parents finally tore them apart. For those two it felt like their whole world was coming to an end. Neither had dreamed of being without the other.

Despite the distance they still kept in touch. Every week she would get a letter or an email from Mingyu detailing his new life, filling her in on the things she always used to know. Sometimes he would surprise her with a phone call, sometimes they would even Skype. None of which felt like enough to her. It was a hard transition, from constant contact to fleeting moments shared across a country, but they made it work. They continued on with their lives, the one thing that they never imagined would be separated, and never admitted how much they wanted more.

Eventually all of their waiting would pay off.

After spending the majority of their high school years hundreds of miles apart, Mingyu was finally coming home. His father was being transferred back to Anyang-si just in time for their senior year and she was beyond ecstatic. In the week leading up to his arrival she made sure she had all of their favorite movies, his favorite snacks, and her mother was even making kalbi to celebrate the occasion. She wanted everything to be perfect when he walked in through that door and wasn’t going to settle for anything less.

“You’re insane.” Hansol said plainly as he watched her dart around her room like a banshee. “It’s just Mingyu, you know he’s going to be so happy to see you again that he’s not going to give a damn about anything else.”

“Just because he won’t care doesn’t mean that I don’t care.” She returned, sticking her tongue out at him while she arranged and rearranged everything within sight. “And I won’t let your negative energy drag me down.”

Seungcheol nodded in approval. “I agree with her. Stop being an ass, Hansol.”

“How am I being an ass!” He protested loudly. “I’m just saying—”

“And what you’re saying makes you sound like an ass.” Seungcheol interrupted, launching a pillow across the room. “Let her have her moment. She knows Mingyu best so if she thinks that he’s going to love this little party then he’s going to love this little party.”

“Thank you, Cheol.” She beamed. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to go hide his presents.”

Hansol scoffed quietly. “Of course she got him—”

She didn’t see how Seungcheol got him to shut up, but she assumed that the aforementioned pillow was involved.

Downstairs the rest of their friends were getting everything ready. She forgot how popular Mingyu was before he moved, which was hard to imagine while watching the dozen boys clutter up her parents tiny two bedroom apartment. A part of her felt guilty for subjecting them to such a surprisingly large gathering. But they didn’t mind, they had been friends with Mingyu’s parents just as long as she’d been friends with Mingyu. They were almost as excited as she was. Almost.

When the final hour approached, she honestly didn’t know what to do with herself. Instead of waiting patiently like everyone else she somehow found herself reorganizing everything in the fridge by food group. And then organizing them again alphabetically. When she moved on to trying to rearrange their cereals by color—they knew it was bad. The others looked on with apprehension but didn’t do anything. They knew not to disturb her no matter how much they wanted to.

She was, in a word, nervous. Even though they had kept in touch all those years, she didn’t know what to expect from her long lost friend. Maybe he wasn’t the same little boy that used to curl up with her on the couch, maybe he didn’t like spicy food anymore, maybe he suddenly hated all of the things they used to love and the whole party was going to be a bust. Maybe—maybe he wasn’t Mingyu at all. Maybe he was a simulacrum sent to replace him and slowly brainwash her until she could be replaced by yet another simulacrum and their whole world was coming to an end—

“Breathe.” Jeonghan reminded once again, a reassuring hand on her back. “Everything’s going to be fine. He couldn’t have changed that much, y’know?”

Realistically she knew that he was right, but her heart was still racing. “But—what if he has?”

“I bet he’s still that little goofball that we all know and love.” Jisoo continued. “He’s probably worried about the same things you are! It’s only natural.”

Hesitantly, she nodded. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m just freaking myself out at this point.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all week.” Hansol interjected. “You’re out of your—”

“Shut up, Hansol.” Eleven boys said in near unison.

“Don’t listen to him.” Jisoo smiled brightly. “He’s just jealous that you didn’t make this big of a deal for his birthday last year.”

“I am not—!”

Armed with the pillow of silence, Seungcheol took care of him once again.

“Thanks guys.” She exhaled. “I honestly don’t think I’d be this put together if you weren’t all here.”

“Where else would we be?” Chan chimed in. “Your mom makes the best kalbi.”

She laughed quietly. “Thanks for the support, Chan.”

“Anytime.” He returned with a smile.

For a brief moment she almost felt at ease, Soonyoung was very quick to ply her with strawberry milk every time she started to feel antsy again. Jihoon was helping her mom cook, Wonwoo was having a lengthy philosophical debate with her dad, Seungkwan was trying to get a game of charades started for some reason, even Minghao was doing his best to monitor everyone as the self-appointed coaster police. Things seemed to be winding down.

Which she should’ve realized was just the calm before the storm.

“Look alive people! He’s here!” Seokmin suddenly shouted. “Battle stations everyone!”

Junhui elbowed him in the ribs. “Jesus Christ we’re not at war, stop yelling, your humor isn’t helping the situation.”

Casting a glance at her, Seokmin quickly ducked his head and left the room. “I didn’t say anything!”

She was, in another word, panicking. Whatever sort of calm she felt was immediately replaced by her skyrocketing blood pressure. Mingyu, her Mingyu, was just outside her front door. Someone who literally meant the whole world to her, someone she could talk to about anything, someone who could’ve easily become a stranger in their years apart. Someone she couldn’t risk losing.

Ding.

Her heart felt like a sledgehammer against her ribs as Jeonghan ushered her towards the door. She could feel her heels grinding into the carpet, putting off the very moment she had been anticipating for years. Somehow meeting him again was scarier than saying goodbye. She didn’t think it was possible and yet there she was, teeth practically chattering.

“You can do this.” Her mom reassured her. “It’s just Mingyu, if you open that door I promise you that everything will be fine.”

Chewing on her bottom lip, she knew that she couldn’t stave off the inevitable forever. No matter how much it terrified her. She had to trust that 17 year old Mingyu and 13 year old Mingyu were not that different. She had to. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the handle and turned it slowly. More slowly that many thought physically possible. Then the door opened and—

Her heart stopped.

Standing in front of her wasn’t the scrawny little kid she used to race bikes with down the street. And it most certainly wasn’t the brat that climbed on top of counters to reach the top shelf. The boy that had to style his hair to get on rides at the carnival, the boy that got asked “where’s your mother?” more times than she could count, the boy that thought striped shirts and plaid pants was high fashion, was nowhere to be found.

Instead she found herself face to face with a handsome giant that easily dwarfed her, wearing a tight fitting turtleneck and a blazer that screamed “Clive, I’d like to take the helicopter today.” Her eyes scanned every inch of him, trying to find some semblance of familiarity in the giant’s chiselled face but she couldn’t find any. Whoever that man was, it wasn’t her Mingyu.

Except it was.

“I can’t believe it!” He exclaimed in a much deeper voice than she remembered, bending at the knees so he could wrap his arms around her and lifted her into the air. “You haven’t changed one bit!”

Well you most certainly have!

While he twirled her around in circles she felt like she was having an out of body experience. She couldn’t help but wonder what happened to Mingyu in Busan because the little kid that she knew and loved wouldn’t have been able to pick her up in a million years. She used to be able to pick him up. Feeling his strong arms around her she could hardly remember those moments.

“Damn.” Seungcheol whistled. “What do they feed you out there? Miracle grow?”

Chuckling, Mingyu stopped twirling and put her down. “I know, I had a bit of a growth spurt. I didn’t think it was that drastic.”

“Not that drastic?” Junhui scoffed from the doorway. “You were a little runt before you left, now I’m sure that you’re the tallest one in the room.”

And he was right, Mingyu was the tallest. Somehow he went from being the third shortest (next to Jihoon and Chan) to being roughly the size of a mountain. The contrast was unbelievable, and that wasn’t even the most unsettling part.

Mingyu was attractive. Really attractive.

Instead of feeling a warmth in her chest when she looked at Mingyu, like she used to long ago, suddenly she felt something else entirely. Her mouth was dry, her face was burning up, and her stomach was churning like the South China Sea. She had only felt like that a couple times before, after eating her little cousins Sunday Surprise and when she saw Park Jimin for the first time. The thought that Mingyu could fall into either of those categories—terrified her.

She didn’t move from her spot from the open doorway as Mingyu made his rounds, hugging and lifting the friends he hadn’t seen since junior high. He was so magnetic as he drifted from friend to friend, laughing and smiling like he had never been happier. She couldn’t help but watch him but also didn’t make any effort to join in the celebration. Something was keeping her from enjoying the party she put so much time and energy into making perfect.

“Sweetie?” Her mom prompted, having sensed her apparent distress from the kitchen. “Is everything alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” She managed despite the dryness tearing up her throat. “Perfectly—fine.”

Jeonghan came up beside her. “See? Mingyu hasn’t changed at all, you were freaking yourself out over nothing at all.”

I’m not so sure about that.

“Do I—” Mingyu started suddenly, sniffing the air. “Do I smell eomma’s kalbi by any chance?”

Her mom smiled proudly. “Of course, nothing but the best for you my dear.”

“When is it gonna be ready?” He asked sheepishly. “Five minutes, ten minutes…”

She laughed. “Since you’re the guest of honor I guess we can let you eat a little early.”

“You’re the best!” He exclaimed, kissing her mother on the cheek and darting towards the kitchen. “I’ve missed your home cooking!”

Once he was out of sight, she grabbed an unassuming Hansol by the arm and dragged him into the other room. She needed to get her rambling thoughts off her chest before she imploded on the spot.

“Hey!” He protested. “Watch the nails, this is real genuine fake leather you’re digging into here.”

“Does it look like I care about your jacket?” She hissed, looking over her shoulder. “I need to ask you something and you’re not allowed to tell anyone we had this conversation.”

He eyed her suspiciously as he rubbed his arm. “Alright, I guess I’ll bite. What’s up?”

“Mingyu!” She exclaimed.

“What about him?”

“What do you mean what about him? Am I the only one seeing this?” She asked, gesturing broadly to Mingyu in the distance. “He’s—he’s different! Like—completely different!”

Hansol rolled his eyes. “You’re being overdramatic, as usual. So he got a little bit taller, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal?” She repeated in exasperation. “The big deal is that when Mingyu lived down the street he was just some goofy dorky kid that could barely tie his shoelaces without tripping. He tucked in his shirts and had a rilakkuma backpack! In what world is that the same kid? He was—he was never this hot! ”

Stifling a laugh, Hansol put a hand on her shoulder. “I think it’s safe to say that you’ve got a bit of a lady boner for your best friend. And that is honestly hilarious.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Hansol I swear to God I’m going to smack you. I—I don’t have a lady boner for him. I’m just—I’m just a little taken aback by his new found appeal. That’s all.”

“Oh, is that so?” He asked, clearly amused. “Is that why your face is all red? Because you’re taken aback?”

Pulling out her phone and turning on the camera she couldn’t believe the blush that had creeped up her neck and managed to make her look like a ripe tomato. She was in some deep trouble. Especially if anyone with a louder mouth had noticed.

“So—so if Mingyu left looking like his usual goofball self and I felt nothing towards him,” She started quietly, “does that make me shallow now that he’s this attractive stud and suddenly my heart’s all doki doki?”

“Sorry to break it to you but, yes.” Hansol confirmed. “It does.”

She groaned loudly and crumpled to the floor. “Hansol, help me. What do I do? I don’t want to have a lady boner for Mingyu, that’s just—that’s just plain awkward!”

“Not to mention gross.” He chimed in. “Hearing you say lady boner over and over again is kinda disgusting.”

“You are not helping!” She whined, looking up at him in desperation. “How do I not have a—a thing for my best friend!”

“Well, the simple answer would be to get a boyfriend or a girlfriend so you wouldn’t think about him anymore.” He offered. “But we all know how well that’s been going for you so far.”

Glaring at him, she crossed her arms in a huff. “Don’t you know how to make a girl feel good. Besides, you’ve never had a girlfriend or boyfriend either if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, true.” He admitted with a shrug. “But I also don’t care about that crap. Doesn’t count.”

“Would it kill you to be a decent human being for three minutes?”

Looking back, she was shocked to see Wonwoo of all people standing in the doorway. He usually wouldn’t be bothered by her qualms. It seemed like a lot of things were changing that day.

“Okay, so here’s what you’re going to do.” Wonwoo started. “First, you’re going to stand up and get back in that party because if I have to hear you say lady boner one more time I’m going to lose it. Second, you’re going to have a conversation with Mingyu and put an end to this whole ordeal. If there’s one thing I can promise you it’s that despite the new packaging, Mingyu hasn’t changed at all. He’s still the dork you grew up with. Scout’s honor.”

“Weren’t you kicked out of the scout’s?” Hansol chuckled.

“Anyways.” He continued, levelling a vehement look at his childish friend. “My point still stands. And if you start to feel overwhelmed Soonyoung went to go get you some more strawberry milk since you already drank it all.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Kwon Soonyoung. I don’t know where I’d be without that man.”

“I really don’t get why strawberry milk calms you down.” Hansol snickered quietly. “You really are a strange one.”

“Says the one rapping about apple juice watching sing street.” She countered almost immediately. “What does that say about you?”

While doing his best to hide the blush creeping across his cheeks, Hansol pursed his lips in frustration. “I showed you those lyrics in confidence.”

“Well then maybe you should treat me better so I don’t spill your secrets all over the linoleum.” She returned. “Ever think of that?”

“Guys, can’t you bicker like an old married couple another time?” Wonwoo interjected suddenly. “Because I’m pretty sure that Seokmin brought his stash with him and I’d love to get a couple hits in before this whole awkward encounter gets underway.”

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Hansol laughed, starting for the other room with Wonwoo. “This conversation would’ve been much better if I was high. Basically any conversation with her is better when high.”

“You know I can still hear you right?” She halfway called after them, chuckling underneath her breath. “Alright, I can do this. I can get through this. He’s just Mingyu, I’m just me, and just because he looks like he stepped straight out of a Calvin Klein photoshoot doesn’t mean that anything has changed. And even if it has, change is no big deal. I’m not afraid of change. Not at all.”

Except maybe she was. Just a little bit.

After smoothing out her dress and pretending that it did something to help ease her nerves, she walked back into the living room like nothing happened at all. The few who noticed her return seemed to have a vague understanding of what went on. She wasn’t surprised. Her group of friends were a bunch of intolerable gossips so it wouldn’t be long before they all knew the gritty details anyway.

“There you are!” Mingyu exclaimed, completely oblivious as always. “Your dad broke out the champagne and Seokmin already put away almost half the bottle, hurry before you miss it!”

Her jaw dropped as she eyed her father. “So when I finished out last year at the top of my class I got treated to McDonald’s but when Mingyu comes back home he gets champagne? Do I need to remind you that I’m your child? Not this giant lug?”

While Mingyu guffawed over being referred to as a lug, her father stated plainly, “Well it’s not everyday that your long lost son returns home. Naturally it calls for a celebration!”

“Ouch.” Hansol snickered from the couch. “It’s gotta suck not being the favorite child when you’re the only child.”

Sticking her middle finger in his face, she turned her attention to her mother. “Am I really the second favorite?”

“Who wants kalbi!” She deflected easily. “First come first serve!”

Her jaw dropped. “Eomma!”

Having dinner with Mingyu and all of their friends had always been an experience, and somethings never change. They were all shoulder to shoulder at a table that comfortably sat six, maybe eight people, but they were easily double that count. For the entirety of the meal she had someone’s elbow in her side, someone else’s glass in front of her, and someone grinding their heel into her foot. It surely sounded uncomfortable, but for her it was her saving grace.

It helped distract her from the fact that she was literally pressed against Mingyu and her internal body temperature was skyrocketing. And it wasn’t helping much at all.

All around the table her friends were juggling conversation after conversation like seasoned pros and all she had to offer were clipped responses and choking sounds. Beside her Hansol was clearly amused since he was the most aware of her struggles and the one friend you never wanted to see your weaknesses. She had to pointedly ignore his quiet jeers while simultaneously trying to convince herself that everything was fine.

She really didn’t know what was wrong with her, why she couldn’t hold it together for more than five minutes without dissolving into a puddle of goo. If she had a crush on Mingyu, which she sorely wished wasn’t the case, he wouldn’t be the first. Or the second. Or even the third if she was being perfectly honest. She had spent most of her high school career pining after guys and girls that were way above her social pay grade. If there was one thing she was good at, it was being painstakingly awkward and being able to hide it from the world.

Mingyu, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have any issue at all. He was talking the entire time, answering questions and filling in the dots of his life with a trademark smile plastered on his face. It was almost like he never left, that’s how perfectly he found his way back into her life. She was the disfigured puzzle piece, the one that didn’t belong, and it broke her heart a little.

Once everyone was done, most of the boys started to help her parents clean up like well trained huskies. They had been to enough of her family gatherings to know the drill. Many hands make light work and for that fact alone she was grateful to be friends with a dozen or so boys. The only ones that were nowhere to be found were all members of what she affectionately referred to as “team green”. Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Hansol, and Seokmin. They were no doubt in her basement with the faulty smoke detector. She made a mental note to burn some incense later.

“Honey, can you and Mingyu start putting away chairs?” Her mother asked politely. “Your father’s back is acting up again.”

Swallowing nervously, she nodded. “Y-yeah, sure. No problem.”

The one thing she was dreading above all else was being alone with Mingyu. Without the safety net of her friends and family she couldn’t predict the nonsense that was bound to spill out of her absurdly dry mouth. Her brain was reduced to little more than dirty thoughts and all she wanted to do was take a cold shower. She desperately hoped that she’d be able to hold it together for a few moments more.

You can do this. She reminded herself again and again. Think about Mingyu eating dirt, or crying over dramas, that’ll help.

It didn’t.

“How about you stack and I lift?” Mingyu offered innocently. “There aren’t many, we should be done quickly.”

Fearing her voice, she simply hummed in approval and got started. She was folding up chairs and pretending like Mingyu wasn’t boring holes into her head with his perplexed gaze.

Can hell open up and swallow me whole already?

“Alright, what’s going on with you.” He finally asked in that surprisingly deep voice of his. “You’ve been acting weird all night. Spill.”

“I’m not acting weird you’re acting weird.” She countered weakly. “I’m just really focused on these chairs is all.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Just like you were really focused on the three dozen napkins to tore to ribbons underneath the table? Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, gesturing to a stack of chairs. “I think you’re putting off having to lift all these heavy chairs. You can take two at a time if you need to.”

As he scoffed, he looped his arm through five chairs. “Yeah, I’m putting it off alright.”

Watching him lift the chairs like they weighed little more than paper, her heart skipped enough times to potentially warrant a trip to the emergency room. He really wasn’t the same Mingyu that struggled with his school books every single day. This Mingyu was far more dangerous, more sexy, more—

“Shit!”

Clumsy?

He hadn’t even taken two steps towards the closet before tripping over an untied shoelace and toppling gloriously to the floor. Watching him fall like a great oak was vaguely reminiscent of their short stint as pole vaulters in junior high. They only went to one practice and it ended just as ceremoniously with Mingyu face down in the astroturf. The only thing that was missing were his slightly askew glasses and charmingly crooked teeth.

After standing there in silence waiting for him to compose himself, she burst out in belly aching laughter.

Finally, the illusion was shattered. The others were right, he hadn’t changed one bit. He was still the same clumsy goof she knew and loved, tripping over shoelaces and making a fool of himself just like the good ol’ days. It didn’t matter that puberty was kind to him, that didn’t change what mattered most. He was her perfectly imperfect Kim Mingyu and that’s all she cared about.

“Easy there.” She managed through bouts of laughter. “Don’t try to overwork yourself for my benefit.”

“Hey, I thought I was pretty cool.” He returned, a smile twitching at his lips. “Up until the—uh, y’know—falling over bit.”

Rolling her eyes, she offered him a helping hand. “You really were, almost had me fooled for a second there.”

“I can only try.” He said, taking her hand and pushing himself back onto his feet. “I’m just glad it finally got you out of your funk. You really haven’t been acting like yourself.”

“How am I supposed to act when my best friend shows up at the door and he looks like a complete stranger?” She scoffed. “I wasn’t entirely sure that Hansol wasn’t pulling some sort of elaborate prank on me. I wouldn’t put it past him getting my parents involved either.”

Mingyu laughed quietly. “You two have been trying to one-up each other since you were in diapers. What’s the score these days?”

“He likes to think he’s ahead but he forgets that despite his icy cool exterior he can’t keep his mouth shut for crap.” She grinned. “Every time he takes a step forward his fat mouth sends him two steps back.”

He offered her an incredulous look. “Is that so?”

“That it is.” She reaffirmed. “Did you know that he wrote a love letter to the school nurse when he was eight? He never sent it, but I bet if we get him loaded then he’ll totally recite it for us.”

Bursting out laughing, he pulled her into a tight hug. “Man, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

She sighed into the embrace. “I missed you too.”

There was a lot that was different, about both of them, and a lot that was the same. She felt comfortable in his arms, like it was the only place she wanted to be. Now there was just a lot more of him and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright I hate to spoil the moment but those chairs aren’t going to put away themselves.” Her mother suddenly chastised them from the kitchen. “You guys better hurry up before I decide to eat this ice cream all by myself.”

“If you touch my samanco I will sue!” She exclaimed, running for the freezer. “I don’t know what for but I’ll figure it out!”

Her mom chuckled into her hand. “That would certainly be interesting. Just don’t touch your father’s strawberry ice cream or Mingyu’s melona bars.”

“You even got him ice cream?” She rolled her eyes. “I swear you might as well adopt him at this point.”

“Stop being so dramatic, it’s only because he’s spending the night.”

Her heart stopped.

“S-spending the night?” She managed past the lump rising in her throat. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

Her mom didn’t look fazed. “I figured it would be nice if you two had a sleepover like the good old days! Besides, he’s living down the hall so why not stay here?”

“Down the hall?” She continued to sputter. “What—are you serious? His parents—”

“Are still living in Busan.” She finished. “Haven’t you been paying attention? They let him move back here so he could finish out his senior year with you and all of your friends!”

“So he’s—” She paused to swallow. “He’s living here. In this building. Down the hall. Alone? And you want him to stay here tonight? With me?”

Her mom was looking at her like she’d grown a second head. “Yes? Why are you acting so strangely? Are you feeling okay?”

Mingyu. She thought. Hot, sculpted, tan, tall, Mingyu. In my house. Spending the night. I’m—I’m perfectly fine.

“Perfectly… fine…”

Yeah.

She wasn’t.

[tonicandjins]

until it’s nothing but senseless babble

characters: kwon soonyoung/reader genre: fluff warnings: mentions of alcohol comsumption word count: 1100

september i love yous #13: over and over again, until it’s nothing but senseless babble

Soonyoung drinks like a nineteen-year-old tasting the sweet and aggressive flavor of soju for the first time, but that doesn’t stop him from drinking on his friend’s birthday party.

His mind is hazy but he’s almost certain that it’s a dream when you’re taking him home. The soft texture of your sweater is warm against his arm and he can smell the strawberry-scented shampoo you always liked under his nose – factors that prove that this is most definitely not a dream. As he attempts to help you drag him from the elevator to your home, Soonyoung refuses to believe that it’s real.

“Y/N,” he slurs when you reach the front of your apartment.

“Hold up for a sec will you, Soonyoung?” It’s a struggle to take your keys from your back pocket because he’s weighing you down as you try to carry him up with your entire upper body. How you twist your arm and try to reach for your keys don’t go unnoticed by Soonyoung’s eyes, so, even as drunken as he is, he reaches from behind you and him, slips his palm into your back pocket and takes your keys. He hears you chuckle quietly when you catch a glimpse of his half closed lids as he tries his best to fight his sleepiness and help you. Taking the keys from his hand, you thank him in a low voice, almost muted, and unlock the door.

Soonyoung has always liked your apartment. Though small and cramped, the atmosphere inside brings him comfort. Sometimes, he wonders what kind of essential oil you put in the air diffuser that sits on a dresser beside your small television set. Lavender and rosemary, you told him once, but Soonyoung went to every store in the vicinity that sells such yet he couldn’t find one that smells like your apartment. He told you he gave up on finding the essential oil like yours even when you sent him a text message, completed with the brand and name and exact store where to find it along with the formula to make his home smell like yours (two drops of lavender, one and a half of rosemary, an optional drop of lemon), and he hopes you realize he’s just making excuses to come back again and again.

It doesn’t take you long to bring him to your couch. The lights are still dim and he knows you prefer it that way when it’s night time. As his back hits the couch, Soonyoung suddenly takes your hand. The liquid courage provided by two bottles of soju must have been the reason why he unexpectedly feels more courageous than ever, or perhaps because he still thinks this is a dream.

“Dream Y/N,” he calls, pulling you to sit on the small space beside his waist. “You’re as beautiful as real Y/N.”

The ends of your lips turn up into a small, beautiful smile, the one that Soonyoung loves. “Am I?”

He nods, allowing his eyes to close once and for all but still holds onto your hand. “But she’s . . . better, I think.”

“How come?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as you hold his hand with both hands. “I brought your drunken self home. How come she’s better?”

“Because I love her,” he answers with a sigh. “You’re beauti—beti—beaufitul—beautiful, don’t get me wrong, just like her. But I don’t know you well enough, dream Y/N. I think real Y/N is better because I know her. She’s a good person and she’s cute when she sees dogs in the streets and runs to pet them even when I repeadet—repeatedly tell her not to scare other people’s pets. And I always wonder how it feels like to hold her hand but I’ll never know if it’s warm and soft like how I always imanige—imagi—imagined it would be because I’ll never get to hold it.” He holds onto your hand tighter. It’s warm and it’s soft like how he always imagined it would be.

Soonyoung sighs again. “Dream Y/N, you should meet real Y/N. She likes a lot of things and she doesn’t take anyone for granted. Though things are diffu—difficult sometimes, she finds a way to see the good in everything. I don’t think real Y/N is real at times because—Dream Y/N? Do you really think someone as human and at the same time as perfect as her exists in real life?” His lips are formed in a pout as he rambles about you and then they turn into a small frown when he hears you laugh.

He opens one eye and peeks. You’re adorable when you’re laughing quietly as you listen to him.

“You don’t believe me?” he asks, opening his other eye to look at you. “She’s not real. Maybe you’re even real-er than her.”

“I understand, Soonyoung,” you answer. “Maybe one day I’ll meet her?”

He hums.

“Are there things you haven’t told her yet?” Soonyoung nods, staring at your ceiling, his hand still caught between yours. “Like what? Maybe I can tell her for you?”

He shakes his head. “I want to tell her myself.”

“Why don’t you?” He shrugs. “You should. Or at least tell me first.”

“I love her,” he replies, his tone sincere. “Not in a friend kind of way. Like—I don’t even know how to put it in words. I love her in a way that I want to take care of her and show her that she’s worth everything. I love her like I want to hold her hand for a long time.”

“Tell me,” you suggest, making him look at you.

“I love you,” he says, his orbs staring directly at yours. “I love you like you love dogs, maybe even more. I love you more than I love the scent of your apartment. I love you like . . . a banana. I love you and my head is starting to hurt.” He goes on and on, telling you he loves you over and over again until it’s nothing but senseless babble. He watches the way a bigger grin etches on your lips and panic a little. “Not you, Dream Y/N. Real Y/N. I love her.”

You nod. “I’m jealous.”

He closes his eyes. “You should. She’s the best.” Silence.

“You are, too,” you whisper, realizing that Soonyoung has fallen asleep, his hand still clasped between yours.

Soonyoung still believes it’s a dream when he hazily feels your lips touch the back of his hand as you tell him you love him, too.

[neoyeppuda]

A Little More - Seungkwan [30]

30. “One more chapter.”

Word Count: 1951

Type: fluff, dad!au, a bit of angst???

A/N: Oh my god it’s been months I am so sorry it’s been so long but I hope you guys enjoy this!!!! :> This was really cute and I loved the story idea I instantly thought of!! I pray I can post more often again :@kpopbreeze for beta reading this one!!!! I’ll see you guys at the next fic :> -Clar

He had no time for you.

That fact was the first thing registered on your mind when words of love and romance ambled off his lips with utmost sincerity. Whatever time he had for you now would diminish into one or two hours together over a few weeks once he’d take a step onto the silvery debut stage in front people that would now know him as Seungkwan of Seventeen.

You knew he wouldn’t always be there whenever you were stuck in a rough patch; nor would he be there as a pillar you could lean on whenever the need arose. Those were things you had to know before you even considered dating an idol, and you knew them very well.

To be brutally honest, you wouldn’t have considered accepting any of it when bubbles had only just begun rising from the pit of your stomach. The feelings that he had stirred up weren’t initially very difficult to brush off. But he did so more often, and more; you could no longer disregard the fact that it brushed against your heart the faintest of red shades.

Before you had time to even notice it, the soft spot you had for him began sprouting and blooming flowers that were the sweetest of roses. You could say you had already loved him; ardently and passionately, like the ambition that drives an artist to breathe vivid life into their creations.

Love had bloomed at the bottom of your heart, flourishing as it touched every crevice and every nook of the rosy walls around it.

The answer had already been decided upon as the earliest of rose buds began peeking out into the open; you knew what you were going to say.

“I like you too,” the instant the sweet syllables left your cherry lips, his face lit up like how stars did on the black canvas of night the day you admired them all twinkling in galaxies light years away from the very spot you were sitting on.

A breath of chilly wind tickled your cheeks as you shuffled to lean on Seungkwan’s shoulder, wrapping arms around the thick coat that clothed sinous muscle.

There was a shooting star on that day. Ever so bright as it glided across the vast darkness, the celestial body plummeted a little past the bustling city’s numerous skyscrapers. When your eyes fluttered close, Seungkwan’s own watched you and the sweet little curve of your lips make a wish that you hoped had zoomed across the stars to reach the heavens where it would be answered.

The moment in itself was what had made him fall deeper into the velvety sheets of red and passion fruit; honestly, the only thing he could do was love you more.

With the lights of windows slowly flicking off, the city gently embraced a sweet slumber. You had packed up the picnic cloth and the jacket that Seungkwan had swathed you in when little trembles against his fingers told him you were cold.

Everything was tidied and only a flattened patch of grass was left swaying in the wind. Whirring of the engine filled a wide silence that wedged itself in between both of you on the way home; a consistent tune that accompanied the peaceful night perfectly. It lulled you to a brief nap as the trip didn’t take too much time until you were at the front door of your house.

He bids you good night with a bashful smile, waving his hand and all before he returned to the comfy seat of his car. The vehicle pulled away smoothly and left once you stepped a foot into your household.

Rushing to the bedroom, you stubbed your toe into one of the numerous walls found in your house. But the pain didn’t matter to you at all. You slipped out of your outfit and into cozy pajamas, throwing yourself onto the wide bed as dreams completed your wonderful evening.

And your wish?

You’ve held onto it for years, until one day, you let go of it.

You had no reason to because at that one moment, he had already made it come true.

He got down on one knee with a bashful smile on his face. His hands shakily produced a small box that he opened for you to see its contents and your heart leaped, even though you knew it was coming.

“Marry me,” the words you dreamed of hearing from the man who you had been with through numerous years finally left the very same lips that kiss you in the morning as they whispered sweet nothings into the curve of your ear. Just like the day he confessed to you, similar words of romance left his smiling lips. However this time, it held promises of eternity.

And you were willing to accept the “forever” he talked about.

You brought a little angel into the world; and with her rosy skin and bright eyes, she took her first look at the awestruck faces of people she would soon come to know as her parents; with her silvery voice and the sweetest of smiles, she spoke her first words; with sturdy legs and a mind brimming with curiosity, she took her first steps.

The fragile baby that you once cradled around in your arms was now growing up and you couldn’t blink or you’d miss it. Seungkwan knew that; and with the kindness of his manager, those little hours grew into more and more during the early years of your daughter’s childhood.

“My manager is a kind angel,” Seungkwan sighed with admiration and gratitude. Only high words came out of him whenever the topic arose as she was the reason why he had so much time for Eunbyeol.

However idols will be idols, and Seungkwan had a world tour he absolutely had to be there for.

It was a day before their departure and this time, Seungkwan was given a whole day off. He was enthusiastic regarding the relatively long break, so despite it being hours earlier than usual, your husband was already up and about. He was outside playing with Eunbyeol for majority of the wonderful morning, and breakfast had slipped his mind.

They came home from the nearby park tired and starving, before devouring the pancakes and bacon you had laid out for them. “I told you to eat before you guys left,” a litany of scoldings came out of you as they finished off the rest of their food in silence.

“Is daddy reading to me tonight?” Eunbyeol hands you her plate with a mouthful of food.

You answered with a nod, washing up the licked-clean plate. “Which book do you want?” Seungkwan nudged the little kid with his elbow, eliciting another bout of giggles. Eunbyeol nudged him back with all the force she could muster, practically throwing her body at him which did not make much of an impact on Seungkwan as he was around thrice her size.

“I want Charlotte’s Web,” Eunbyeol chimed with sparkles in her round innocent eyes. The beloved novel was her favorite despite her initial struggles in understanding the story as it showed her the yellow brick road -as she described them- towards the world Charlotte had lived in.

The afternoon was spent outside again, with the two loves of your life running out and dirtying their clothes to pick several flowers for you. Seungkwan had offered to weave them into your hair, neatly separating the bouquet by color to arrange them properly.

“I want to help!” your daughter exclaims, scooping up a bunch of flowers with her tiny arms. They both made a lot of tangles here and there, as it was their first time doing something like this. However, in lieu of harsh words and expressions of disappointment, you simply smiled and brushed their apologies off. Seungkwan rubs the back of his hand against your warm cheek and your eye shuts as the hand draws a little to closer to it.

“It’s messy,” you giggle, unconsciously touching your hair in an attempt to ease the wild strands of hair standing up.

“It’s a mess but it’s still beautiful,” he chuckles and your smile mirrored his. As Seungkwan watched the breeze gently blow your hair back and forth, he noticed the specks of white that began twinkling in the gray sky behind you. A pang of pain struck his heart as the impending separation was approaching faster than he wanted it to. His plans were forlornly ruined as he realized that time would not wait for anyone, and that midnight would come in five more hours.

Back at home, Eunbyeol ran around in her silky pink pajamas. “Where’s the book?” she rummaged through her chest full of trinkets and toys she has had over the years. The hardbound book was the only one that wasn’t on the shelf like the rest of her books since it -according to her- was special, and it deserved a prestigious spot somewhere in her toy chest.

“Maybe it ran away,” Seungkwan teasingly smirks with hands behind his back. The instant she saw the look on his face she knew the book had been with him the whole time.

With an arm raised, she confidently asks for the novel. To which he replies with feigned innocence that was as transparent as glass.

“Daddy give it back!” Eunbyeol demanded her book.

His smile grew wider and he reveals the book from behind his back. “I knew it!” she exclaimed as a knowing smile graced the girl’s face, and it was off to bed with her.

Seungkwan tucked her in and small hands gripped the edge of the blanket tightly. Eager eyes watched her father flip towards the first page of chapter one and the magical journey began.

In your opinion, Seungkwan was a great storyteller. Whenever a character spoke, he’d deepen or soften his voice to fit the personality they had; whether it be arrogant or soft-spoken - he could do it all.

Bubbles of laughter erupted from the cold bedroom; waning as the little ray of sunshine slipped into a sweet slumber. Seungkwan’s voice was a little above a whisper, continuing the story despite no one listening.

The low growl of his phone vibrating against the leather pants drowned his voice in its dreary tone. He felt a tap on his shoulder as your presence filled the space beside him. The heart situated at his chest dropped along with his spirits.

He didn’t want to go just yet.

“Isn’t it almost time?” you asked quietly. Seungkwan hesitantly nodded, hoping to ignore any further questioning by averting his gaze from your being.

You checked your watch and the clock’s hands were dangerously drawing near to his departure time. “You should go,” he did not look up no matter how much you shook him as he knew any imploring look from you would convince him to leave.

With a slow shake of the head, he refuses.

“One more chapter,” he pulls you down next to him as he tells you in a soft tone. You sat on the chair beside him and leaned against him, taking in his cottony scent before he left. “You have to go soon, okay?” whispering to him as your eyes fluttered close; you shuffled in your place to rest your head on his shoulder. He nodded again, brushing his cheek against your head as he droned on about Charlotte’s exciting adventures.

“Have a safe flight,” upon hearing those words come from his sleepy wife, he let out a small chuckle before resting his head on hers.

And for a little more, his face lit up like the stars on that night.

[jungnoir]

Seungcheol pls I took a bunch of free condoms from health services just because I could and they all fell out of my bag at once and now you’re staring at me weirdly

call me lover boy;

choi seungcheol | “I took a bunch of free condoms from health services just because I could and they all fell out of my bag at once and now you’re staring at me weirdly.” college!au. | 1.1k words. | humor, fluff, mentions of condoms but I promise it’s not what you think!

a/n: @cafewonu for reasons (ignore the glaring wonu in the bg or don’t bc u kno why)

He was sweating. Oh my god was he sweating. Could humans sweat this much? Surely the amount that he was sweating meant he was going to become seriously dehydrated soon and faint and he’d damn every supernatural entity in the universe that put him in this position if he ended up sweaty and unconscious amongst a pile of condom packets in front of his crush of all people-

“…you got plans tonight, Cheol?” You even have the nerve to say his name like that: kind, despite the amused expression on your face. The nerve. The audacity.

Seungcheol stands in the middle of the hallway completely frozen, the mouth of his backpack open still from where he meant to take out his keys and manage to pull out literally everything else but his keys… including the inexplicable amount of condoms that he’d snatched the minute health services invited him to “protect your grades and protect your dick”. He’d found it really hilarious at first, the fact that the first thing on his mind being how ridiculous that slogan was and the second thing being all the things he could do with those condoms that had nothing to do with their actual purpose.

No. Other people might have been overjoyed to know they’d save some money to get it on with their significant other or at least have some backup on a night out this weekend, but Seungcheol didn’t really have plans for any of that. As finals season neared, stress soared, but his idea of relief had been something a bit dumber.

He wanted to make water balloons.

Seungcheol recalled late that he���d been staring in dismay at the scattered condoms, unable to look at you at all but he still knows you’re there from his peripheral view. He could hightail it; he could blame the need to run on his ridiculous flight or flight function that he’d been learning about extensively in Psych. Or maybe he could laugh it off? Maybe you’d laugh with him! Maybe he could just pick them up and say he was holding them for a friend- friends. God. Why did he take so goddamn many? There was no way this would look normal in any way.

To his shock, Seungcheol sees you bend down to grab a few before he can think of a way to possibly explain himself.

You scoop up some in your hands and he wonders if you’re keeping a few for yourself because logically, he won’t miss five out of the boatload he’d nabbed. His heart unintentionally squeezes at the thought that you might have someone to… use those with. He knows it’s plausible after all. Anyone would be lucky to be with you but… no, he couldn’t think about that right now. He still looked really stupid and he couldn’t have that on top of everything else.

It turns out you weren’t taking them for yourself as you began to scoop them into your shirt. You rolled up the hem and held it like a little pouch and he had to turn his eyes away so he wouldn’t see your exposed skin. He probably looked like a cherry tomato right now. A sweaty cherry tomato. Ugh.

You’ve gathered about half when some students pass by, a few of them giggling at the scene and murmuring amongst themselves about what “(Y/N) and Seungcheol are doing later”, and when you look the smallest bit bashful, Seungcheol finally breaks from his frozen state to defend you, “It’s not like that! We’re making water balloons!”

The students glance back over their shoulders at Seungcheol, skeptical even as they turn the corner to take their giggles with them. Seungcheol feels impossibly worse, actually.

“W-Water balloons? Is this what you took them for?” You ask, the pieces of the puzzles clicking together slowly. It was… weird, but it kind of explained the insane amount of condoms he’d taken. It really did make sense.

Seungcheol’s eyes flit from yours to the condoms again, slowly crouching down to gather some himself to distract himself from the embarrassment, “…yes. It’s… stupid. I know it is.”

Your laughter floats toward him, too gentle for the situation. How could you laugh like that when you caught him doing, of all things, this? Wasn’t this weird? Weren’t you embarrassed to be seen with him? Didn’t you want to walk away before anyone else said anything about the two of you again? He wouldn’t blame you. He’d be kicking himself in the metaphorical nuts perhaps, but he wouldn’t blame you for it.

Before you both know it, you’ve got all the condoms gathered up. He’d followed your example and stuffed the other half into his shirt as well, holding it up by the hem to keep them from spilling out again. He misses the way your head turns too, avoidant of the softness of his stomach underneath his muscle shirt. “Were you planning to throw them at people?”

Seungcheol nods like a scolded child. Not only did he steal a bunch of free condoms to make water balloons, he was also planning to torment people with them. You surely thought you’d need to get out of this situation ASAP. He didn’t mind if he got in trouble for his shenanigans, but you might.

Picking up a few in your hands, you mull the situation over in your head before flicking your gaze to meet his own. In pure cliche form, he forgets how to breathe. Then, “It’s a pretty hot day, today. It’d be super inconsiderate of us if we didn’t help cool down our fellow student body, right?” He’s never heard you sound quite as conspiratorial and devious before… it makes his mind run and heart race, expected of a silly boy in love. There was something pretty attractive about how ready you were to aid him in this, and if he wasn’t already smitten with you before, he surely is now.

“There’s some empty storage bins in the gym. I have the key to the storage closet and access to the hose near the east lawn. If we hurry now, we might get away with our asses in tact.” Seungcheol advises, twisting the hem of his shirt and holding it close to his chest.

You do the same, giggling out of pure excitement. “Sounds like a plan!”

“If we get caught and hung for terrorizing our fellow citizens of Pledis University, just know it was my pleasure being a deviant with you and we’ll meet again in our next life.” Seungcheol’s dramatic proclamation does its job when it gets another fit of giggles out of you. You almost drop the condoms in your attempt to cover your mouth to hide them. He resists the urge to tell you not to.

“You make it sound kinda romantic, Cheol.” You grin.

There wasn’t much romantic about attacking annoyed students with water filled condom balloons together on a hot spring day on the surface but boy, if it didn’t set Seungcheol’s stolen heart on fire. This was a story to tell the kids one day.

[hoyoungy]

genre: fluff, comedy | college au, artist au | painter!minghao x reader summary: you find beauty and meaning to the most boring place on earth when a romantic stranger helps you understand the artist behind one of the paintings on the wall. word count: 4102 a/n: finally, my first minghao fic! i thought this suited him well. hope you like it!

Art, in nearly any form, was never really your thing. The beauty behind a sculpture, a photo, and especially a painting never gave you that wow! factor that was engrained in everyone else’s DNA. It’s not that you were blind, or anything - in fact, at a first glance, you could understand why some people thought the most popular works of art were so aesthetically beautiful. Like, for example, paintings from the Renaissance era, or those giant paintings of Jesus, or those incredible marble sculptures of the Greek Gods. Those types of art, you had to admit, were impressive and totally easy to understand, considering there was a lot of history behind them that could easily be read up on.

But what really made you disinterested and zone out about art was when it was considered Modern or Contemporary. That was a whole other category of misunderstandings that you did not want to touch because it only gave you headaches. Yet here you were, in the Modern and Contemporary wing of the museum, studying up on your favorite subject just so you could get this gen-ed  over with and finally graduate.

Hour number three of rotting in the museum was approaching at a snail-like pace and you think that your brain is melting into a soup in your skull. It felt like your class’s tour guide explained every piece in the wing, yet for some reason, you only made it half-way through. You silently prayed to the museum gods that the guide wouldn’t actually go through the whole wing, but you knew regardless you’d be braindead by the end of the night.

“And here we have arguably one of Picasso’s most famous paintings, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon.” Your tour guide led your group to a large square painting with five distorted figures that was placed in the dead-center of a wide wall. You recognized its odd, cubic style from your textbook. “This piece contributed to the early developments of what we know as cubism and modern art.”

“I only see boobs,” you muttered to your friend next to you.

She chuckled softly. “You kind of got it for once. They’re prostitutes.”

“But why did he make them look like that!? Aren’t women supposed to be beautiful in paintings? Like, muses and stuff? This is sexist.” She elbowed your side for you to shut up before your guide moved on to the equally-giant painting across from it.

“On this wall, we have our latest installment by a new artist, The Koi That Swam Up the Stream. Just look at the Pollock-like movement in the paint!”

At a first glance, you didn’t think the painting was that special, or at least any more special than any of the other paintings you saw today. If anything, you thought it was a bit simplistic - primitive, even - but the longer you looked at it, the longer you criticized it, and the more it pulled you in. It threatened you with a force so strong that you couldn’t dare look away. You hated to sound so cliche, but it was like the painting was speaking to you.

Before you even realized it, your eyes had been glued to the painting for fifteen minutes. The first couple of minutes, you noticed the colors - splashes of cool teals and turquoises of the stream and sky contrasting with the warmth of the orange koi. Then your brain processed the thickness of paint in the sea versus the airiness of the sky. And then you saw what the tour guide was talking about with the Pollock-like movement with the koi fish. You felt that you could see the koi swimming against the current of the stream.

“You like this painting, too?”

Startled, you whipped around to see a boy walking up to stand next to you. He was extremely handsome, so much that it startled you way more than when he snuck up behind you. His black mullet kind of threw you off guard at first, but it suited him well and added a mysterious vibe to his conspicuous handsomeness. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of him even when he stood still next to you. He was dressed like an artist, or at least like an art student, with clothes that were probably way too expensive for their minimalistic style. But hey, they suited him well, and he looked like he belonged here in the museum.

As you were blatantly studying his handsome face, you couldn’t help but notice how casually he looked at the painting. So casual it was as if he’d seen it every day of his life.

“U-Uh, yeah, I do like it,” you finally admitted, turning your attention back to the canvas. “It’s the first painting out of the hundreds in this wing that I understand. Barely, though…”

“What do you understand about it?”

“That there’s a fish in water.”

“That’s it?” he teased.

“It’s the most concrete piece in this damn wing! Not to be a downer, but I hate this museum, this section especially. I’m only here because I need to pick a modern artist to do a report on for my final so I can finally graduate and be free.”

He raised a curious brow to you. “I’ve never heard someone say they hated the museum. Why do you hate it here?”

You weren’t sure why you were answering invasive questions from a stranger, but there was something about him that was comforting and made you want to spill your secrets to him. “Ok, hate is a strong word. I don’t not like art, you know, I just… don’t understand it. My classmates and probably every other human in the world could come to this wing, look at any of these paintings, and understand the artist’s intentions in minutes. But for some reason, I can’t! Like the wires in the section of my brain that deals with the arts and culture just don’t connect.”

“It’s not the end of the world if you don’t like art,” he reassured. “A lot of people don’t.”

“It is for me when my potential to graduate relies on it.”

“At least you have a legitimate reason to come here. You have no idea how many people walk around thinking they understand every piece in this museum so that they seem profound and cultured.”

“Is that not you?” you teased back.

“No ~ I work here. Well, more like I intern here.”

“I was going to say, you seem kind of young to be working at this cemetery.”

“Well, you seem kind of old to be getting lost and separated from the rest of your class.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right!” While jogging towards the exit, you frantically dialed your friend’s number on your cell and shot a quick goodbye wave to your new friend. “Have a nice night, hipster!”

“Hey-!” Minghao began, although you were already running out the wing before he could finish. “I’m not a hipster…”

Immediately after your last class the next day, you found yourself sitting on the left side of the bench in the middle of the room sandwiched between the koi fish painting and Picasso’s painting. What an odd placement to have both of these paintings. Even an uncultured person like yourself knew that these two had absolutely nothing in common and the placement just seemed weird to you. Maybe the museum ran out of wall space.

“I’m not a hipster.”

Your new friend, the walking handsome exhibit, joined you on the right side of the bench pouting slightly. It was the cutest thing, but you thought maybe it was too early to be throwing out compliments to someone you just met. You noticed that his wardrobe was a little wackier than yesterday’s. His outfit was much more colorful and pattern-centric today, like he was wearing a piece right off of the wall.

“Your short-sleeve button-up shirt and glasses scream hipster,” you snorted. “You work this early until the museum closes?”

“As an intern, I work long hours with little-to-no pay.”

“I guess I’ll be seeing you often.”

“Oh, yeah? Did you pick an artist for your project?”

You gestured to the koi fish painting and Minghao hoped you missed the smug grin that was growing on his lips. He couldn’t believe you chose the piece! Now, it was his turn for him to notice the way you looked at the painting. Just by your rapid eye movements from scanning the canvas, he could tell you were someone who was very detailed-oriented, which probably contributed to your lack of understanding of the arts. You looked like you were searching for a single, definite answer within the piece, but that’s not how art worked, and he wanted to be the one who helped you understand that.

“Why this one?” he asked.

A small chuckle escaped your lips. “I don’t want to sound cheesy, but it kind of just spoke to me, you know?”

“Really? What did it say?”

“Is it weird that I don’t have a single clue? It must be speaking another language, huh?” you joked. “There’s something about it that makes me want to come to this hell-hole everyday and just live in the moment with this painting, you know? I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes trying to figure out what it is, but nothing’s coming to me. Jeez, I don’t even know who the artist is!” Immediately, you shot up from the bench and squinted closely at the information plaque and the signature in the corner. “8. That’s it? That’s their name? A number!?”

“Maybe it’s a pseudonym? It’s hard to say, not many artists use one.”

“How avant-garde...” you muttered bitterly. “How am I supposed to do a report on an artist with a number as their name!?”

“You could always choose another artist.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

“Hey, don’t act like you know me,” you nudged. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Ok, hotshot hipster,” you challenged, turning your body to face the now-nervous boy. “From being around me for a grand total of thirty minutes, tell me one thing you know about me.”

“Where do I start?” He joked. His confidence made the tables turn and now you were the nervous one. “One obvious fact is that you’re someone who notices and analyzes every little detail just because you can.”

“What!? There’s no way you could have known that.”

“But am I wrong?”

“… No, but that’s not the point! How did you know?”

“When you told me that you didn’t understand art, I was a confused, because no one ever truly understands art, you know? That’s the whole point. But just now, when I saw you looking at the painting, I realized what you meant by that. You’re very detail-oriented. You like concrete and to-the-book answers and ideas, don’t you? And that’s why modern art is so confusing for you, because everything is open for interpretation, and you don’t like it one bit.”

“Are you a therapist? Like, is this art thing your side-job? Or is this like a social experiment? Am I being punk’d?”

“No, no!” His boisterous laugh echoed through the wing and sounded so charming and boyish to your blushing ears. “I’m just very good at analyzing people and art. That’s how I got hired, so I could help explain the art to visitors like you.”

“Does this mean you’ll help me with my project?”

“If you want me to.”

“Please do. I’m begging you, I’m guaranteed to fail if you don’t.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, but I’ll be more than happy to do so under one condition.”

“I knew there was a catch… What is it?”

“Tell me your name.”

He didn’t ask for it. No, he demanded it.

“_____,” you smiled.

“_____,” he repeated. You liked the sound of your name from his lips. “I’m Minghao.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Minghao.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

“There’s nothing I can find about the artist!”

The following day, you met Minghao at your usual meet-up spot on the bench sandwiched between the two paintings. He was the first to arrive this time, eager to hear what you had found after he assigned you to research 8 online.

A playful smile stretched across his lips upon seeing your distressed expression. Of course you hadn’t found anything. “You didn’t find anything at all?”

“Other than the fact that he’s young and a local artist, there isn’t much else to this 8 guy. Nothing about his childhood, his come-up, his other works or periods of art, like literally zilch!”

“Give up yet?” he challenged. It was as if Minghao was expecting you to give up and change your artist for your project, which only made you feel more determined to find out who 8 was and why Minghao was challenging you.

“No, I refuse to give up. I need to do this painting. I’ll just focus on this piece, I guess. I can write ten pages about this… right…?”

“If you say you can, then I believe you.”

“But where do I go from here? What do I even talk about?”

With the same playful smile, Minghao ushered you to get up and follow him to look closely at the painting. He stood still and stared at the painting in silence for several minutes while your focus kept switching from the painting to Minghao, waiting for him to guide you with your paper.

“What do you see?” he asked you.

By then, your focus had been on Minghao’s handsome features once again, so you quickly looked back at the canvas embarrassingly. “U-Uh a fish in water.”

“What kind of fish? What body of water?”

“I mean, it’s titled The Koi That Swam Up the Stream, so an orange koi fish and a stream?”

“Do you know anything about either?”

“Have you heard of the urban legend? When a koi fish swims up a waterfall, the Gods praise his hard work and dedication by transforming it into a dragon. It probably one of my favorites. Do you think that was inspiration for this painting? I mean, it is swimming up, right?”

Minghao simply shrugged. “It could be, it couldn’t be. What if it’s swimming to the sky, and not up a stream?”

“See, that’s just silly... This is why I hate art.”

His soft and charming laugh rang through your ears once more and you think to yourself that a laugh like his should be part of an exhibit at the museum.

“What can you tell me about the mood of this piece?” he asked you.

“The mood? There’s a mood? I don’t know what a fish is supposed to feel!”

Another laugh erupted, but it was louder and made your face blush from how much it affected you. “I mean can you tell how the artist was feeling when they painted this?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?”

With a teasing, dangerous glint in his eyes, he held out his hand for you to take. “Will you follow me?”

Your logical conscience is telling you no, you should definitely not take the hand of this mysterious and edgy boy and follow him off to God-knows where in this hell-hole of a museum because what if he murders you and makes you into the grand piece of this museum - like an episode straight out of Hannibal. But were you going to follow him anyways? Your dumbass boy-crazy love-struck conscience is telling you hell yeah, you’ll follow this boy to anywhere he’d take you.

With a warm hand, he guided you to the opposite side of the wing inside an empty classroom filled with easels and other art tools.

“What are we doing in a classroom?” you asked.

Minghao didn’t answer as he set up one of the easels in the center of the room with a large, empty canvas staring at you and waiting for you to fill its void. He hands you a large brush with some black paint.

“Show me how you would paint if you were happy.”

“With black? Can I get some yellow, or something?”

“I chose black so you could focus on brush strokes instead of the color.”

“Uh, ok. I failed painting in first grade, just so you know.”

“Just do your best, I won’t fail you ~” he teased.

You take the brush and quickly run it across the canvas in a wave with tall peaks.

“Hey, not so bad,” Minghao praised. “That’s exactly what I would have done.”

“Yeah, you know, I take Art History 101,” you bragged sarcastically. “Art just comes to me.”

“Very funny. How about if you’re sad?”

You painted a slow, straight line at the bottom of the canvas.

“And what about angry?”

You chucked the brush as hard as you could at the canvas, leaving a big, solid splatter in the center of the canvas.

A shocked Minghao cleared his throat. “I- Well, that’s one way to paint…”

“I tend to throw things when I’m angry…”

“I’ll be sure to remember that. Oh, you have a little paint on your cheek.”

“Hm?”

Before you could protest, Minghao was already eye-level with you with a warm hand upon your cheek to wipe away the black paint. You could barely breathe as his thumb brushed up on the apples of your cheeks and all you could see was his gorgeous face trying to hide his grin.

God, he really was a work of art.

“I, uh,” he began, laughing in between his words. “I kind of made it worse.”

“What!?” you pouted. “I hope it’s washable…”

“It’s just acrylic paint, no need to worry.”

“I don’t know what that means, Professor Minghao.”

“It means it’ll wash off fine. Now take a look at your masterpiece.”

As you stared at the white and black canvas, you guess you could kind of see what Minghao meant with emotion in the movements of brushstrokes. Where you supposed to write ten pages on that?

“The artist must have felt some sort of frustration at some point,” you proposed. “Like a koi fish swimming up the same stream for centuries? I would be extremely frustrated. I would be an angry, splattered, orange koi fish.”

“See, you got the hang of understanding art really quickly! Gold star for you today.”

“You smeared paint on my face, I better get a gold star.”

“You still have a lot to learn.”

When you left the museum after helping Minghao clean up the classroom, the only thing you could think of the entire night was the way he looked at you. Since you were so detail-oriented, as he liked to say, you didn’t let his multiple longing glances slide past you tonight. It wasn’t in any way creepy or invasive. It felt very romantic, like you were his muse and he felt some sort of attachment to you ever since he saw that you were completely pulled in by his favorite painting.

There was this certain sparkle in his eyes whenever he looked at you and it made you wonder if Minghao was an artist, too.

You arrived about thirty minutes before the museum closed due to other priorities occupying your usual schedule and you were really upset that you wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with Minghao tonight. You wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, picking each other’s brains, before you finished your paper and wouldn’t dare go back to the museum, because you both knew you wouldn’t visit for recreation.

It was just a few days before your final paper was due, and you only had about a page written, double spaced. You should be feeling some sort of panic as you sat next to Minghao on the bench, but his company was enough to ease your stress. In just a couple of weeks, the two of you went from sitting at opposite sides of the bench to sitting right next to each other in the middle.

“Do you paint, Minghao?”

Startled by your question, he whipped his head to look at you with wide eyes. “What makes you think I do?”

“I don’t know, I figured since you work here and can decipher nearly every painting in this museum, it only sounds natural that you paint, too. Like, you easily empathize with the artist.”

“You’re smart,” he noted with a wink. “I paint sometimes. Rarely.”

“Why rarely?”

“I get frustrated easily when I paint. It’s also hard to find inspiration these days. I haven’t painted in a while, but who knows, I might pick it back up again.”

“I hope you find your hunger to paint again.”

“You’re really sweet. I hope so, too.”

“Will you show me a finished product one day?”

“It might take a while.”

“That’s ok, I’ll wait.”

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sat together. You continued to analyze the painting and Minghao continued to admire you as he normally would. You weren’t stupid - you knew he would often steal glances at you. The first few days of meeting up at this very bench, you tried so hard to ignore the burning sensation that his gaze bore into you, but today, his gaze was too hot to ignore.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you asked softly, too embarrassed to look at him.

Minghao didn’t look slightly phased that he was caught. “I like the way you look at the painting.”

“How do I look?”

“Enamored.”

A line of dark blush formed on your cheeks from the romantic word. “Are you enamored with me, Minghao?” you teased, although you both knew your true intentions behind the teasing.

“And what if I am?” he challenged.

“Are you enamored with me or the way that I look at the painting?”

“Both.”

“Why?”

“You look at this mediocre painting with a light in your eyes that I’ve never seen in anyone else before. How can I not be so attracted to you when you look like that?” He turned his head away from you again to look at the floor. “You’re a masterpiece by yourself.”

The little gears in your head began to click into place.

You pointed an accusing finger to the work of art sitting next to you. “You painted the koi fish, didn’t you?”

A shy smile spread across his soft lips. “You figured it out.”

“I knew something was fishy when you kept asking if I was still going to use it for my paper! You were seeing if I still liked the piece!” You hit him playfully. “I can’t believe you’re 8! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I was afraid. I didn’t want you to think any less of the painting if you knew it was me.”

“Minghao, you know how in love I am with this painting.”

“Exactly, but I knew it would have changed either way if you knew it was me. I wanted you to keep that raw love for the painting.”

“But I love it even more now.” When your eyes sparkled looking at him the way they did when you looked at the painting, he adored you even more, too. “I still want to do my paper on you.”

“Really…?”

“Please? I feel like I could write fifty pages about you.”

How could he say no to you? “On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Kiss me.”

His lips were as soft as the looked when you kissed them. Minghao was romantic in all aspects as a person and kissing was no exception. Both hands snaked their way to hold your face in place as he kissed you slowly and sweetly. Kissing an artist was almost everything you imagined it to be - you were left starving for more.

“I guess you could write your paper about me,” he teased as he tucked your loose hairs behind your ears.

“You owe me! I could have been done with it by now if I knew earlier.”

“I do owe you. Let’s start right now.”

The two of you stayed overnight at the museum while you picked his brain for hours. Well, half of those hours were spent kissing and goofing off in the sculptures department, but you easily got in ten pages worth of the artist you fell in love with by the time your night with him ended. For the first time ever, you didn’t want to leave the museum. You felt like you could stay here for a while so long as Minghao was with you.