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intoanothermind · 8 hours
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rebound and restoration
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pairing: choi yeonjun x fem reader | genre / tropes: angst -> fluff, friends to lovers, post-breakup, non-idol au; ft. soobin + mentions of the rest of txt; reader is yeonjun's age (soobin calls reader "noona") | word count: 5.4k | warnings: post-breakup heartbreak, profanity, food, kissing
additional note: fic is mostly written but contains a few texts
summary: with his heart still aching after just getting dumped, yeonjun turns to you, one of his closest friends, for comfort. that is, until he kisses you - and your friendship starts to change.
author's notes: honestly i feel like if i don't post this soon i'll be dissatisfied with it forever and edit it endlessly and it'll never get past my drafts LOL perfect is the enemy of done!! anyway i wrote this while i was feeling stressed and insane during the holidays and wanted... an angsty kiss for whatever reason. lmao yeah
(support by reblogging banner by @cafekitsune)
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when yeonjun arrives at your apartment, it’s still early in the evening; the two bowls of pho you ordered for takeout are still hot, and you’ve left your laptop open at a selection of cheesy netflix rom-coms. perhaps the selection is a bit ironic, but you mused that the feel-good escapism is just what he needs.
he pulls you into a hug and you give him an extra squeeze and a few pats on the back. you can’t help but ruffle his hair a little as he pulls away. 
“hey, jjun...”
“y/n!”
“how are you feeling?”
“ah, a bit better, i think.”
he gives you a slight smile, and you’re too relieved to notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. it’s a miracle to you that he’s even smiling again two weeks after his breakup. you still remember the cracks in his voice when he called you after it had happened, the rims of his eyes red with crying when he finally crashed at your place half an hour later. that night you held him tight as he told the story to you in between sobs: hana had broken up with him over a call that lasted less than a minute. she was bored and tired of him and just stopped caring, she said, if he were a toy she could throw away if she didn’t want to play with it anymore.
you swallowed back the anger in your throat back then, though you couldn’t help the tears of your own that fell. now you push the anger back down again as you lead yeonjun to the small table at your kitchenette, one of the bowls of pho steaming in front of him. now is not the time for indignation; your friend needed comfort, and it’s comfort you will give.
yeonjun’s eyes light up at the sight of the pho. your heart swells, and you don’t hold it against him when he sits down ahead of you and picks up his chopsticks, ready to dig in. in between slurps he grins like he’s just received the best present of his life. “this is so good!” he said in between mouthfuls of noodles. “it’s been way too long since i had this.”
“i know! feels like we haven’t had this in ages.”
“remember when we tried to make our own?”
“oh god, not that!” you laugh, dropping your chopsticks. “we got impatient and that broth tasted like nothing.”
“your kitchen smelled like ginger though,” yeonjun recalls with a giggle. “it was nice visiting for a while.”
“my kitchen smelled like ginger more than the actual broth, jjun.”
“maybe we can try again one of these days? and if we mess up, at least you’ll have a nice-smelling kitchen again.”
all you can do in response is laugh, and for a moment you forget that you stopped having pho nights together when hana entered his life.
he fills you in on video game night with soobin and kai, shopping with beomgyu, and his so-called revenge gym day with taehyun; he beams with pride while describing his new weight record just as much as he does when talking about managing a hard-earned victory over soobin at tekken. you laugh along with him, knowing that his friends blocked out their schedules just to comfort him for a day. and when you talk about your new project at work and the new books you bought yourself as a treat, his eyes fill with that indescribable look you’ve seen before. you can’t quite place what it is, but it reminds you of afternoon light, of summer days, of lingering hugs after a long day together.
you don’t need to ask for yeonjun to help you clear out the table and pick up the snacks you set aside for your movie, and you make no effort to resist. there are no words exchanged: he simply places all the disposable pho bowls and chopsticks together, and you reach for a clean garbage bag and put them all in. the only communication between you is a shared look and a nod.
perhaps it’s just your imagination, but that look lingers a little longer than you’re used to, and you can’t help but give him a satisfied smile.
you’ve seen him look at hana that way, too many times to count, especially during that early-dating phase when the thrill of emotions was still high. you wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, for yeonjun to look at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. and you wondered if hana really was that precious 一 if she were just as precious to him as you, his best friend, if not more so.
you let yeonjun select the movie. at first you doubt your idea to present him with rom-coms, of all things, but you let out a sigh of relief when he happily chooses one of them. both of you have seen this one many times over, but you don’t mind. there’s comfort in knowing that a happy ending is guaranteed to happen.
the two of you are slouched on your couch together, the laptop balanced on a pillow between the both of you. yeonjun sits close to you, an arm around your shoulder, a gesture that he hasn’t done with you since he started dating. you let yourself lean against him (so that you can see the screen better, you tell yourself). the two of you start a running commentary on the movie 一 “why would he say that?!” “aww, they look so cute together,” “oh god, that was so stupid!” 一 and both of your laughter fills the apartment, the sound like a duet in harmony.
it’s so easy this way, you think 一 just you and your best friend in your own little corner of the world. you steal a glance at yeonjun while he’s absorbed in the final confession scene, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes gleaming with anticipation for the big kiss. a string of memories flash before you before you can help yourself.
“she said yes,” he says, his whole face flush with excitement. “she said she’ll be mine.”
his hands are on your shoulders and he gives them a gentle squeeze. “there’s no way hana can’t like you. you’re one of my best friends, i’ll make sure you get along.”
“i think hana’s mad at me,” he tells you as he fiddles with the beanie in his hands. “but don’t worry about it, we’ll talk it out, i promise.”
his head is in his hands as you sit across him from a restaurant booth. “i don’t know what i did wrong, she looked so bored through the whole date...”
you hold him close as he sobs in your arms, his whole body shaking. “sh-she said she’s... tired of me…”
“y/n?”
you snap back to reality as yeonjun glances at you, his head tilted. the ending credits of the movie have started to play. “are you okay?”
“i-i’m fine.” you reach out to touch his cheek, then hesitate. “are you okay?”
“i’m fine, y/n.” he picks up on the meaning of your words. “i know i looked really bad that night, but i’m getting better, i promise.”
“good.” your eyes meet his, and your cheeks grow warm. “we can have nights like this as many times as you want until you feel better, okay?”
“yeah, i know. i missed having nights like this, actually.”
“me too. i really liked it when we did this all the time...”
“i know. i’m sorry. hana didn’t like一”
“hey.” your hand comes up again and this time, you gently hold on to his cheek. “it doesn’t matter what she thinks anymore.”
“y/n... i’m really sorry. i feel like i neglected you, and you’ve been my friend for so long...”
tears form in his eyes, and you feel them warm against his cheek. you wipe them away with your thumb as you move closer to him. he continues to ramble as you do.
“i feel like an idiot. like a total dumbass.” the pitch of his voice begins to rise. “god, i was so convinced that hana and i were the perfect couple, that we’d be happy. i-i thought about her more than she d-did about me, y/n, and i stopped hanging out with you一 when you’ve always一”
“jjun, please don’t apologize anymore,” you say, your voice trembling. “i’ve never been mad at you over her, not even once. i just want you to feel better, okay? i... i just want to see you be yourself again.”
you want to see the yeonjun you’ve always loved.
you’ve lain awake at night wondering if he’s ever sensed your feelings for him, and if he’s ever felt the same way. on the day he told you that he and hana were officially together, you spent that night sobbing in your bed, convinced that your friend would never see you as a lover. and yet you said nothing of that night, and of other nights similar to it, because you told yourself that if hana made him happy, then you would be happy too.
and now you want more than anything to see him happy again.
yeonjun says nothing, but instead places a hand on top of the one you have resting on his cheek. you feel it trembling, but you don’t resist as he grasps your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. he swallows hard to push back the rest of his tears, and his eyes soften. once again there’s that indescribable look of his that makes you feel light.
“y/n...”
he says your name softly, as if in reverence. his face inches closer to yours and you don’t pull away; instead you feel lighter than ever, your gaze falling to his lips as your eyes flutter shut. everything that follows feels slow, gentle; his nose brushing against yours, then your lips on his.
he kisses you slowly at first, but as you kiss him back you fill with a new fervor, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him wrap his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his. warmth blooms in your chest, and every movement of yours betrays your feeling: your lips moving against his, your hands making their way into his hair. you want to kiss him until the pain he feels has been replaced by the love you have for him 一 i love you, i love you, i love you.
you’re completely absorbed in him and let out a soft sigh when yeonjun snaps out of it 一 he breaks apart from you, breathing hard, eyes wide as he’s hit by what he’s just done.
“shit, y/n一” he gets off the couch, one hand running through his hair over and over again. “i’m so sorry. fuck, i shouldn’t have done that一”
you’re snapped out of your trance as you stand up to chase after him. “jjun, hey, wait! listen to me—”
he’s picking up his bag from the foot of your couch. he can’t even look at you, instead occasionally letting out a shit or two under his breath.
“yeonjun, please一”
you stand in front of him to block his way from the exit. at first his head is bowed, avoiding your gaze, but when he finally looks up his expression is solemn.
“you are not a rebound to me,” he says at last. “please don’t ever think that i just used you to make me feel better.”
“i never accused you of that! look, i’m sorry too, it was my fa一”
“i’m really sorry, but i can’t stay here anymore. i’ll make it up to you, y/n, i promise.”
“wait一”
yeonjun walks past you and before you can protest any further, he’s out your door. you push it open and try to chase after him, but after a few steps you stop, thinking better of it. what would stopping him even do?
you walk back inside and slump back down on the couch. the screen of your laptop faintly glows, and a half-eaten bag of chips has fallen to the floor. all at once the reality of what happens sinks into you: the kiss, his words, his departure.
you are not a rebound to me. the words echo in your mind.
a strange tension fills you, and you can’t even tell what emotion it’s supposed to be from: confusion, frustration, anxiety. with your whole body seemingly on edge, you grab a throw pillow from the opposite side of your couch and press it into your face.
you sob into it the tension crashes down on you in full force.
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for the next few nights the scene replays in your dreams: yeonjun leaning in ever closer towards you, your lips meeting his in a fervent kiss 一 each night’s dream-kiss more fervent than the last 一 and him suddenly pulling away. you awaken each time just as he breaks the kiss, the shock and confusion coursing through you again, and immediately after you reach for your bedside table to check your phone.
still no text from yeonjun.
you consider texting him again, but each time you type a new message you erase it, the blinking cursor driving you mad. how would you even know what to say? do you want to apologize? to beg for his forgiveness? to ask if you can still be friends?
you hate to admit it, but every morning you lie in bed for a few moments more to allow the dream to sink in. the look on yeonjun’s face appears vivid to you, from his eyes blown wide to his mouth slightly agape. your mind travels back to the moment he breaks the kiss, as if a sudden force pushed him away, the shock of it hitting you. then it wanders to the kiss itself, the feeling of his lips soft against your own, his arms warm as they hold you by the waist…
you shake the memory away, drag yourself out of bed, and continue on with your routine: breakfast, shower, get dressed. you resist the urge to check your phone for as long as you can. you stare at the little contact photo you set of yeonjun and remind yourself: you’re his friend. you need to help him heal. 
you recount your worries to soobin over snacks one day.
“i feel like i’m being selfish,” you say in between munches of potato chips. “he hasn’t even moved on from hana”— soobin winces at the acridity you mutter her name with—“and now one of his closest friends kisses him like she’s madly in love. how is he supposed to move on? he’s hurting enough as it is.”
soobin sets aside the bag of chips you just finished. he rubs his face with his hands as he tries to choose his words carefully.
“you’re not being selfish, noona. you sound like you’re trying to be careful so that you don’t hurt him,” he says at last. “and yeonjun hyung feels just as bad about it. he feels bad that he even started the kiss, and for making you feel like a rebound. you two sound like each other, to be honest.”
“i know he feels bad, it’s just 一 i don’t know how that will fix...” you wave your hands wildly in the air, “this.”
“you can start by talking to each other?”
“he didn’t reply to my last texts. and i… i don’t know if i should text him again.”
a moment of silence. soobin opens a pack of candy and chews on it, just to give himself time to think. he fiddles with his phone as he does, absentmindedly scrolling through his old texts, when one of them catches his eye.
“so, there’s this new restaurant that beomgyu wants to check out.”
“really, soobin, what does this have to—”
“he was thinking of inviting all of us there to hang out,” he continues. “including you and yeonjun hyung. we can plan for it a week or two from now so that you have space? and then you can get used to talking to him again there. if things get awkward, i can ask beomgyu to fill in.”
you purse your lips. “i dunno, i might cry if i see his face again.”
“if you don’t feel like it, just call in sick.” soobin’s mouth twitches into a small grin as he says it — you know he’s used that excuse to get away from social situations he doesn’t want to be in. now you’re starting to see the appeal of it.
“okay. i’ll think about it.”
ultimately you do decide to go, and two weeks later you’re the first to arrive at the restaurant. you can feel your hands trembling as you push the door open and your heart hammering in your chest. in your head you’ve prepared what you want to say to yeonjun and you mentally rehearse your words for the hundredth time.
you slide right into the booth and take a deep breath. you check your phone to keep yourself busy, letting yourself calm down until your hands have stopped shaking. as you’re scrolling through your camera roll looking at some memes beomgyu sent you, someone slides into the booth seat opposite yours.
“hey, y/n.”
yeonjun gives you a shy smile and the nervousness in your stomach kicks into overdrive. he looks much better now; the bags under his eyes have lessened, and his smile seems genuine. still, you can’t help but remember the last time you saw him, and you shudder.
he sees your reaction and winces, averting his gaze. when he speaks, his voice is soft. “y/n... are we okay?”
the question breaks you and whatever words you have prepared fly out of your mind. as you try to grasp at them again, tears prick at your eyes.. “yeah... yeah, we’re okay,” you say. you take a gulp of water to hold back the tears. “i was never mad at you, jjun, i’ve been worried out of my mind一”
“i’m sorry i never replied to your texts.” he places his hands atop your trembling ones. “i just felt so ashamed that i didn’t know how to face you.”
“and i’m sorry i never tried texting you again, i just didn’t know what you thought of me, and i was so scared that i lost you...”
“i was so scared that i lost you.”
you sniffle. “that makes both of us then. god, we were so stupid.”
“i missed you, y/n.”
“i missed you too, jjun.”
you let out a laugh of relief and he laughs too. with the sound of his laughter melding with yours, everything else seems to melt away: the tears in your eyes, the other noises of the restaurant, the baggage of the last two weeks. sitting before you is your old friend, holding onto your hand to comfort you, laughing together with you just like you always have. 
and just as always, you want nothing more than for your friend to be happy.
“so,” you begin, giving him the most reassuring smile that you can muster, “let’s start over?”
yeonjun glances down at the table, but you can see his eyes crinkling as they usually do when he smiles. “yeah, let’s do that.”
when beomgyu enters the restaurant right afterwards, all it takes is one glance at the scene before him to understand what happened. he turns his head towards you, meeting your gaze, and you give him a nod.
it’s going to be okay.
the kiss becomes an unspoken part of your history together, never mentioned and never acknowledged. you stop searching for hidden meanings to it, and instead settle on the explanation that it was simply a spur-of-the-moment reaction from pent-up post-breakup emotions. it doesn’t matter to you whether or not this explanation is true; it’s the explanation that gives you the most peace of mind, and that’s what matters. as the days pass, you think of it less and less, and eventually it is filed away in your memory, like a book never checked out of the library collecting dust. 
in the meantime, you pour your energy into rebuilding both your friendship with yeonjun as well as his fragile heart. the first few hangouts with just the two of you are awkward with a tinge of melancholy, with conversations feeling a little too short. fortunately, your shared friends are there to help: you and yeonjun are invited to video game nights at soobin’s, or a cute new cafe that kai wants to check out, or just a walk around the park. the silences feel less awkward when it’s quickly filled by a joke from beomgyu or witty remark from taehyun.
from time to time you see the shine in yeonjun’s eyes disappear, even for just a moment, when he encounters something that reminds him of “the ‘h’ word” (as beomgyu refers to her): a park bench where they had a date, or a dress on a passerby that looks a lot like something she would wear. sometimes one of his friends would recognize it and quickly divert his attention elsewhere. soon those diversions occur less and less often as fewer and fewer things remind yeonjun of her.
but things don’t truly feel normal to you until a month and a half later. your project at work has gone well, and yeonjun has completed the first draft of a mixtape he’s making. just as you muse to yourself that a reward would be nice, your phone buzzes.
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that afternoon you and yeonjun stroll down the shopping district a few minutes away from his house, trying on this and that. it isn’t long before you find yourself spending over your budget; it’s hard not to when yeonjun is constantly egging you to buy something you really want. “c’mon, y/n,” he whines as you put back another cute button-down on the rack. “you deserve it! you can wear it to work for the next phase of your project!”
he giggles when he sees your eyes light up at his words. “we do have another presentation for it,” you muse.
still, you draw the line when you spot an elegant tan jacket worn by one of the storefront mannequins. you stare at it longingly as if you’ve found your soulmate, and yeonjun sweet-talks you into entering the shop and trying it on. but when you see the hefty price tag on it, you sigh.
“i can’t justify this, jjun…”
“but you look great in it! and you want it so much. you’ll feel worse if you don’t get it.”
“maybe…” you glance down at the shopping bags in your hand. “i dunno, i’ve spent so much already.”
you sigh in defeat and turn back to the store exit before you can second-guess yourself. yeonjun doesn’t follow immediately, but instead watches you go as he lingers a bit longer.
later that day, the two of you sort through all the things you bought (mostly clothes and accessories, but also a vinyl for yeonjun and a novel for yourself) in between giggles and wide eyes and a shower of compliments. yeonjun puts on a completely new outfit for you and struts down his apartment like a runway model, and he pulls you up from the floor to do the same. soon you’re laughing and clapping at each other’s performances, and yeonjun even whips out his phone to take photos of each other’s best looks.
as you rummage through your haul for one more outfit to assemble, your eyes land on a familiar spot of tan fabric. your mouth falls open when you pull it out and see that jacket — the one you’re pretty sure you didn’t buy. you glance up at yeonjun and he licks his lips before forming a mischievous grin.
“jjun, is this...”
“it’s yours.”
“you didn’t have to一”
“i saw the way you were looking at it, y/n. i just had to get it for you. c’mon, put it on.”
hesitantly, you take off the jacket you’re already wearing and put on the new one. it fits perfectly, just a little loose to let air flow in, and you love how it frames your figure. yeonjun is still smiling at you, but it’s a different smile. he looks at you as if you’ve transformed in front of him.
“you look really pretty,” he says. “let me take a few pics, okay?”
he snaps a few photos of you and you pose for the camera, and a comforting warmth settles over you. if this happened a few months earlier, you would have blushed and your heart would be doing somersaults, but now all you feel is a light flutter. everything feels fit in, like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place.
you lock eyes with yeonjun as he takes the last photo and puts his phone away. as you whisper “thank you” to him, the gleam in his eyes is reflected in your own. there it is, that indecipherable look of his that makes you feel warm.
you still love him 一 there’s a part of you that still knows that. but over the last month and a half you’ve simply learned to live with your feelings, letting them fill you with lightness for a few moments and then letting them go. feelings or not, you’re just glad to have yeonjun in your life again. even as a friend, his presence is a soothing balm against the stresses of life.
months later, yeonjun is sprawled on your couch again, his head on your shoulder as you scroll through your list of rom-coms on your laptop. at one point the two of you resumed your pho and rom-com nights, and you’re glad for it; few things give you as much comfort after a long week of work.
after scrolling back and forth a few times, you pause on the same movie you’ve always watched together and give him a quick look. he simply smiles.
“don’t you get sick of this one?” you ask.
“not really, the ending always feels nice. are you… tired of it?”
“no no, i— i was worried that you’re tired of it.”
“me? never.”
“perfect, ‘cause i’m not either.” you give him a knowing grin and press play.
at this point you both know this movie so well that you recite along to every line. you do the female lead’s lines, yeonjun does the male lead’s, and you even sing along to the soundtrack. yeonjun stretches out on your couch even more, his head ending up in your lap, and in the movie’s quiet moments you find yourself playing with his hair. when the big confession happens you can feel him holding his breath and then releasing it in a laugh when the two leads finally kiss.
the credits roll and he glances up at you, smiling in satisfaction. you smile too and hum along to the end credits song. as the movie ends, you let yourself bask in it: you stretch out your arms, yeonjun sits up to lean on your shoulder again, and you lay your head atop his. the two of you remain like that for a while, sitting in comfortable silence.
“don’t you ever get jealous of them?” you ask.
you feel his head shake a bit as he chuckles. “i hate to admit it, but yeah. rom-coms always make getting together look so... fun.”
“right? i wish my life was like that.”
“god, me too.”
“i swear, it drives me insane,” you huff. “every time i watch this i want to start dating again or something.”
a few more moments of silence. yeonjun lets out a soft exhale and you feel his body grow tense. the air in your apartment seems stuffier.
“speaking of which, i have to tell you something.” 
“me...?”
you’ve never heard yeonjun sound so solemn. his head weighs down on your shoulder. “y’know, i’ve been uh... thinking of dating again.”
“oh... where are you dating this time? did beomgyu set you up again?”
he shakes his head, looks up at you for a split second, then looks down at his hands. you see the tips of his ears turn pink.
“actually, i... i have someone mind. someone i want to ask out, i mean.”
with those words the feelings you’ve brushed aside for so long come back in full force. your heart beats so hard it feels like it’s slamming into your chest. when you speak, your voice shakes.
“oh... who’s the lucky one?”
“i-i’ve known her for a while. she’s sweet and fun to be around... we’ve been hanging out a lot more often these last few months. we get along really well, at least i think we do...”
“sounds like you have chemistry with this special girl,” you say, the words heavy on your tongue. the hammering of your heart floods your ears. “so what’s stopping you from asking her out?”
yeonjun sits up to face you fully. you sense the effort it takes for him to look at you 一 has he ever been like this around you before? 一 and you reach for his hands. they’re trembling, and his ears go from pink to red.
“a long time ago,” he starts, voice shaking, “i kissed her. i kissed her after my last breakup. and i wasn’t thinking straight, i was just so lonely that i wanted to be loved again 一 but i can’t do that to yo— to her, she’s one of my best friends, i don’t want yo— her to be a rebound 一 but then you said we could start over so we did and i dunno, at one point i started liking you, i fell so hard i don’t know wh一”
you interrupt him with a kiss, your lips gentle on his. you feel him kissing you back, his movements gentle as his hand comes up to hold your head in place. you find yourself pressed against him and he’s even warmer than you remember, warmer than those dreams you had so many months ago.
when you break apart, his eyes are glazed over in a look of pure admiration. 
“y/n...”
“jjun, i...” heat spreads across your face. “i’ve loved you for years.”
“then why didn’t you say anything?”
“how could i? what if you didn’t feel that way and it ruined our friendship? and with all the other guys too?” your heart is still beating fast but you let out the words while your boldness still has a hold on you. “and then you dated hana and i cried but i wanted you to be happy 一 then you broke up and you kissed me and i liked it, and i hated myself for liking it because you were 一”
yeonjun pulls you into him, arms encircling you, and as you keep rambling into his chest he soothes you with one hand combing through your hair. his other arm grips you firmly, and your own arms find a firm hold around his neck.
“i love you too, y/n,” he whispers into your hair before leaving a kiss there. “it’s okay.”
“i love you, so much...”
he pulls apart to get a good look at your face. as he sees a few tears start to roll down your cheeks, he brushes them aside with his thumb.
“so this girl,” he says, affection lacing his words, “after we kissed, she said we could start over. and we did. and i’m really glad we did, because i fell for h一 for you so hard.”
you lean your head forward so that your forehead touches his. “really?”
“really. and i...”
“do you want to kiss her again?”
yeonjun’s breath hitches and his eyes meet yours. there it is 一 that same look of his that makes you feel light. the one that, you realize, makes you feel loved.
“can i?”
“please,” you whisper.
he closes the gap between your lips and his, and this time you feel only relief and bliss.
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intoanothermind · 4 days
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love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
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♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6
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“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”
yeonjun x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut
Word count: 10.6K
warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it
smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)
Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-
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Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess. 
It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again. 
“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”
But sometimes, he just can’t help it. 
He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.
“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”
“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”
“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”
“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”
“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”
“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.
“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”
Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
MONDAY
This is it. 
Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 
He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.
He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 
Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 
When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 
He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 
Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 
You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.
Shit, this was so embarrassing. 
Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 
The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 
But for you, anything could change. 
This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 
Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 
Looking back was your first mistake.
Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 
“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 
“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 
“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”
You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 
“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 
“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 
He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.
He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 
“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 
“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 
“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 
“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 
“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  
“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 
“For existing.” 
God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 
“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 
“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.
Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 
“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 
He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 
This was… progress. 
But you’re still mad at him. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
TUESDAY
Visiting you in class was a big no. 
Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.
You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 
Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 
He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 
It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 
He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 
He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 
But, you are a horrendously petty person.
You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.
It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 
You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 
After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 
It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 
There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.
Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 
Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 
His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 
Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 
That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 
You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 
After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 
You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 
Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.
Can you pls let me look at u at least?
You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 
I miss you so so so so so much. 
You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 
That was your second mistake. 
Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 
I’m sorry. 
Another paper flies over your fortress.
I’m sorry.
Then, another. 
Pls forgive me.
Then another. And another, and another, and another. 
Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((
You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 
It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 
There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 
Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 
Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 
Can I show u how sorry I am??
You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 
You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 
“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 
Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 
Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 
I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 
“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 
There goes all his progress. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
WEDNESDAY
Today has been an oddly nice day.
It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 
A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 
“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 
The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.
It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 
Yeonjun says he’s sorry.
“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!
You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.
By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 
Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 
Yeonjun is really sorry.
…What? 
You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 
He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 
You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 
Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.
“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 
Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 
The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 
“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.
“Could you forgive him?”
“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 
You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.
When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 
Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.
Three ways to better communication in a relationship:
The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.
“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 
my baby :((
stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!
my baby :((
and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!
Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 
Choi Yeonjun. 
can you pls let me talk to you instead?
You don’t bother opening the notification. 
That was your third mistake.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
THURSDAY
Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 
Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.
Well. Most of the time. 
“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 
“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.
“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 
“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 
“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.
“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 
It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 
I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 
Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 
“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 
“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 
A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 
Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 
Your meal was free. 
The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 
“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”
You take a second to think her question through. 
Yet another mistake on your part. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
FRIDAY
Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.
You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 
Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 
You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 
The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 
“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”
You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 
“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”
“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 
Christ!
Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 
“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.
You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SATURDAY
You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 
Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 
Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?
The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.
However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.
You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 
There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.
Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?
It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!
This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.
Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 
Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 
I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 
God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 
 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.
Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.
You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.
I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…
Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 
“Hello?”
“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”
“Uhm, let him in then?”
“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”
“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 
“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 
“You need to talk to him.”
“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” 
A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.
“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”
“Okay.” 
You hope you’re not making a mistake. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SUNDAY
This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 
Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 
“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.
“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”
“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 
“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”
“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 
Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 
“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”
You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 
“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 
You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 
Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 
“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”
“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.
“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”
Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 
“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.
“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 
“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”
“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 
Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.
“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”
“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”
Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 
“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 
Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 
“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”
“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”
“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 
“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”
“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 
“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”
Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 
“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”
“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”
“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”
Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 
Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 
The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.
“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”
“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”
“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”
“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”
Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 
“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 
“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”
“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 
“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 
“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 
“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 
“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”
“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 
“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 
“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”
His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.
“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.
“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”
“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”
“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.
“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”
Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.
“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 
“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”
Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.
His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.
“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”
“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.
“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”
He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!
“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 
“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”
Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 
“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”
The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.
“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.
“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 
You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 
“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“
Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…
You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.
This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 
Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.
“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”
“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”
“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 
“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”
You laugh.
“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”
“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”
A pause. 
“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”
You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 
“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.
“For you, yeah.”
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 
“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”
(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)
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intoanothermind · 5 days
Text
the night shift
pairing: idol!jeonghan x caregiver!f.reader
genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, a little bit of angst
summary: it’s such a surprise what just three months of your life can do to you. it can actually change your life.
word count: 10.3k
rating: 13+ 
warning: mention of death (not major character). a few swear words here and there. a lot of time skips, i hope it doesn't impede the reading flow!
a/n: i have officially been sucked into the world of svt and there’s no getting out of here! i honestly just got into soft jeonghan feels and wrote this. i’m writing after a very long time, and so much has happened since my last update on tumblr. i’m sorry if i have kept any of you waiting 😭. i will try to update regularly now! 
i hope you enjoy reading it!
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“Hello. I’m L/N Y/N.” You bowed deeply to the young man sitting in front of you in a wheelchair, a bored expression feeting in his eyes, his blonde hair falling raggedly over his face. A face you were not unfamiliar with. 
The man twisted his lip in annoyance and looked at the other man in the room. “Why is she here?”
“Hyung, you had said you’d keep a nurse.”
“I don’t remember, Hoshi. Perhaps, I was under the effect of heavy medication. Because of these fucking meds-” he seemed mildly irritated as he swatted his hand about in the air. “None of these meds are heavy in any way. Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten!” The younger boy whined, and continued, “Jeonghan hyung, the company, the doctor, the members, your family. Everyone has said that this is the best for you. You don’t have a say in this,” Hoshi had stood up to hold Jeonghan’s hands down. “Hyung, please.”
The man in the wheelchair had no option but to become limp in Hoshi’s hold. Flecks of irritation still on his face, he kept glaring at you with the world’s most disinterested look. “One month.” 
“Hoshi-ssi told me three months…?”
“No. One month. You work for me, I decide the rules.”
He swiftly turned his wheelchair around and went back into his bedroom.
“He’s moody these days, his mind is really fragile. I hope you understand.” Hoshi spoke to you gently. “Yes, I do. I’ve dealt with more stubborn patients, don’t worry.”
“I’ll leave you to settle down, then! Annyeong!” And the cheery young man left, after bowing his goodbyes. 
You had a sense of foreboding creeping into your heart. There was perfect silence in the apartment almost as if you were alone in the entire space. But you knew you were not. How was it possible that Yoon Jeonghan could exist so soundlessly? What if he was actually not- oh god, what if he had passed out or something? You quickly go to his bedroom and knock on the door frantically. “Please, Jeonghan-ssi!” Slowly you heard one breath being released. The door slowly creaked open. The apartment became full of life again as you felt Yoon Jeonghan’s beautiful face eyeing you curiously, like his new found toy.
_
The first week was a chaotic one, but by the time the fortnight had passed, you knew Yoon Jeonghan was now in your grip. Idle, he had all the time in the world to prank you and tease you, even while being in his wheelchair. Sometimes he would feign memory loss and forget who you were, other times he would ask you to change his shirt after he had dropped some soup on it. If your days at the hospital, where you were interning, were tiring, your nights were even more challenging. He would fall asleep without taking the prescribed medicines, shuffle out of his wheelchair without calling for your help as he should have, and behave just like any naughty kid would. And you had no option but to scold him each time. But you could never be too angry at the man. He would smile the most angelic smile at you, making your veins burst and melt at the same time, your anger dissipating into annoyance into laughter. Eventually you would smile to yourself every time he was successful in his teasing, each feat giving him immense happiness. One successful prank, and Yoon Jeonghan was a happy man. 
There were other ways to coax him into submission too. Making him his favourite ramyeon to warm his body whenever he could not sleep in the winter nights. Watching Jun’s new drama with him, and giggling over the kissing scenes, as Jeonghan would give you live commentary on how Jun would probably be behind the scenes. Combing his hair, which was growing longer by the day, into neat braids. 
You had, eventually, and unthinkably, fallen into a routine. 
-
“What is it exactly that you do in the daytime?” He had asked you once, while you were preparing breakfast for him before leaving for college. “I go to med school. Then I intern at the local hospital.” 
“I know. But that can’t be it. Surely school and internships can’t leave someone as dog-tired as you come home, Nurse L/N.” He looked at you with suspicious eyes, a mischievous spark in his doe eyes. You knew he was going to tease you now. 
You had, honestly, gotten used to this, and started recognizing the signs. Before you would cry out in anguish every time his teasing got the better of you. ‘Jeonghan-ssi. I forbid you from speaking ill about my favourite pen. It’s my lucky pen. I always do well in exams I write with this.’ ‘Oh, save heavens I make fun of your dearest pen.’ And he had laughed, all while knowing he had hidden the pen below his pillow. He would give it to you the next morning, a wave of relief flashing over your tense features, extremely nervous over the exam that day. ‘Don’t worry. You’ve studied so much. You’ll do well, irrespective of the pen.’ And then he had the audacity to wink. Fucking wink. After all the superstitious stress he had put you through the entire night. 
“Have you ever met any person from the medicine industry?”
“Nope. No people. Some annoying aliens though, prescribing bullshit medicines to me which I don’t even need. And of course, I’ve met you.”
“You don’t even know how stressful med school is. And then, at the internship, they’ll ask us interns to do everything. Right from sanitising the scalpels, to cleaning the floor if someone spills coffee, and the very next moment, they’ll ask me to perform a minor treatment, as if I wasn’t busy polishing the floor right now.” You huffed and puffed as you served Jeonghan the sunny-side-up. He had already put butter on his bread and began eating it. 
“Okay, I’ll be leaving now. Your coffee is in this pot. I’ve baked some cookies last night, while you were on that live call with fans-”
“Ooh that’s why the entire house was smelling like dogshit.”
“SHUT UP! They taste very good.”
“Dogshit? You’ve tried? A true connoisseur-”
“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ll put you in timeout.”
“No!” He instantly put on his angelic smile, pouting, his features full of aegyo, and your momentary anger melts. Oh you don’t know what to do with this one. 
_
20 days later, you could feel the wall between you two breaking down slowly. He had become more accepting to having you bossing around the house, keeping it clean and keeping him safe. Although you worked with him only for the night shift, the two of you would often have conversations, aside from the bickering, the nonsense he kept spewing and the teasing, that would actually be meaningful. 
“You’re wearing your shirt the other way round, Nurse L/N,” he said as soon as you unlocked the door and stepped into the house after finishing your job. 
“Oh!” You dropped your bags immediately and made your way to the washroom attached to your bedroom to change. “That’s why everyone on the subway kept staring at me.” When you returned to the hall, Yoon Jeonghan was sitting in the same way, flicking through his phone. 
“You didn’t wear the shirt wrong in the morning?” He cocks an eyebrow, and you blush all over. He had caught you. Clearing your throat, “Umm, well…” He tilts his head, letting the evening sun fall on his hair and making it shimmer. “I had a date today.” 
Immediately your veins start burning as he makes his way towards you, a small smile on his lips. “Nurse L/N! How did it go?” he asks you, then doesn’t wait for an answer. “Ahh well. That’s a wrong question. If you’re wearing your shirt the other way round, it must’ve gone well.” Peeking at you, to see your blush spreading all the way to your neck now. “Who is the unlucky person then?” 
Argh. Not even 10 minutes into the house and he had started teasing you. 
“He’s my friend from med school. We intern at the same hospital.”
“Show me a photograph.”
“Why?”
“I want to see!”
“Why? This is personal space.” You fold your arms, going along with his teasing. 
“I want to see if he’s more handsome than me.” Jeonghan declares solemnly, as if that’s the most reasonable response. And when you burst out laughing, he laughs with you too, but continues whining to see the photo. And you have no option but to yield. 
_
When Hoshi-ssi had approached you through his manager to take care of Jeonghan for the next three months till he recovered from the accident that had broken his left leg, you had been reluctant before saying yes. Firstly, you hadn’t believed that such a famous celebrity would be requesting for you, when they had all kinds of services at their disposal anyway. Then you learnt that you had taken care of Hoshi’s aunt when she was very ill and bed-ridden, and the good feedback had flown in from his family. Hoshi’s aunt had been your second patient, your first being your own mother, who had suffered from schizophrenia, before you had lost her two years ago. Although your eyes were still wet from those memories, you had decided to take nursing up as a side profession, to pay for the bills of med school, and put your nursing skills to use as well. Seven clients later, you had landed this job- taking care of the superstar idol, Yoon Jeonghan. 
“It’s a night shift. So you’ll have to interact very little with the patient. Through the day, he can take care of himself. We just expect you to keep him company as his… mental state… is really weak right now, perhaps more than his physical state,” the manager had said.
You weren’t a Carat. You didn’t even follow idol groups. You didn’t want to seem like a golddigger, and you knew well that these celebrities could throw tantrums, or even worse, ill-treat you. 
But when Hoshi-ssi personally called you, you simply could not refuse. There was something so soft in his voice, laced with worry whenever he spoke about his hyung, you simply knew you had to help this man out. 
And you had taken up the job.
The apartment was big enough for you to stay comfortably. Jeonghan was non-interfering in your personal matters, mostly. From time to time, he would comment on your hairstyle, worry about the dark circles under your eyes, suggest a new skincare product, and enquire about your family in all politeness. You had thought the initial courtesy he showed would die down, and then he would minimise his interactions with you. 
However, to your great (mis?)fortune, he stayed up every day, even after 25 days had passed, waiting for you to come back home. He would sit at the dinner table, as you made dinner in the kitchen. He would text you, while you were at work, sometimes meaningful questions, other times random thoughts, and even more rarely (thankfully), some photographs. Of his pet rock, of a new parcel delivered home, of takeout he had ordered for lunch instead of eating what you had cooked for him that morning, of himself. 
Oh, of himself. 
Those selcas were the rarest, and yet you kept wishing for him to send you one whenever your phone lit up with a notification. While you would sit in the break room, eating lunch between classes, you’d wait for it. When hanging out with friends after the internship, you’d wait for it. When your date from two weeks ago, Minho, took you out to coffee, you found yourself waiting for it again. 
And when it did, you’d save it instantly. Take a screenshot if it was a one-time view. Stare at it endlessly, sometimes laughing at the filters he would set up, sometimes smiling wistfully into his beautiful brown irises, looking at the camera with odd affection. You knew he generally sent those photos to you to get a reaction before posting them on Weverse for his fans. But somewhere in your heart, you had begun to wish, he would click those photos for you. Not for his fans, not out of boredom, not just to check if his face was still handsome. Just for you.
But that was the least of your problems. 
_
Your job had turned a month old, and you paced about in your bedroom, having packed your bags already, ready to be kicked out. Although Yoon Jeonghan had been fairly tolerable these last few days, one could never understand what went about in his mind. 
You were mentally listing off all the things you’d have to worry about now. You’d have to go back to your shitty paid guest room, and pay rent. You’d have to go without the extra cash from this job, barely making enough to eat four meals a day. Only somewhere in the corner of your mind, another little thought came up- you’d have to live without the living breathing caramel sunshine that was Yoon Jeonghan. You had truly gotten used to living with him- as a roommate, of course. Even with his irks and mischief, his moments of vulnerability and his fake aegyo. You had learnt to not dislike him, and now he was getting too close to your heart. 
A sharp knock on your bedroom door broke you out of your thoughts. “Nurse L/N? You didn’t come to wake me up?” He says it so normally, as if you’re not combusting with nerves right now. “It’s not 8 am yet, you don’t like it if I wake you up before that.”
He yawns. Lazy, warm, still in his night sleepsuit. His hair messy, his skin looking soft and his lips looking- 
“What’s all these bags for?”
“Huh?”
“You’re leaving me?” He starts to pout, making your insides like molten lava. 
“I- uh- one month-” you manage to stutter out, wondering if he had truly forgotten or if this was one of his pranks. “One month’s done? Yay! I am two months away from freedom. Nurse L/N, can you please order waffles for me today, I’ve been craving something sweet!” He whirls around his wheelchair after flashing his brightest, cutest smile at you. Left with your mouth open, you already start thinking whether all the ingredients for waffles could be found at home or not. 
_
While you would be away during the day, his members or family would come visit him, to help him dress or bathe. Every other day, you’d see him sitting with a member of his group, hearing their laughter even before seeing them when you entered the house. Sometimes more than one would turn up, and it would be a party. 
They always treated you with great respect. Joshua would profusely thank you, the polite charismatic gentleman he was, for taking care of Jeonghan. Seungcheol would ask you regularly whether you were well, whether his friend was irritating you, and whether the terms of work were suitable for you. The days when his members would arrive, usually Jeonghan would switch on live, for his fans. Mostly the lives would get over as soon as you would arrive, sometimes they would continue after you arrived as well, and you’d try your best to soundlessly work through the house so as to not disturb anyone. Contractually bound to secrecy and personally wishing for no involvement with his fans, this was an arrangement suiting you perfectly. 
Except one day, when he was doing the live all on his own. You dropped a small glass, and hurt your finger in the broken glass. Almost on instinct, Jeonghan had shouted out, “Nurse L/N, are you okay? Did you break something?” Hearing voice full of concern, real genuine concern, you couldn't help but reply back. “Yeah I’m okay! Don’t worry, it’s just a glass.” “Hmm, okay.”
Cleaning up your wound, you had tiptoed towards Jeonghan’s room, where he was arranging legos while streaming live. Your heart was pounding in your chest, waiting for the call from his company, asking you to resign. Knocking softly on the door, you entered, trying to signal him to not mention you aloud and asking him if the company had reached out to him to announce your dreadful fate. 
“Ou?” 
Facepalming yourself as Jeonghan asked you in the loudest whisper possible, you gave up. Even if your earlier reply was probably not audible due to the distance, it was so clear now when Jeonghan visibly looked up at you, and asked you, in the most innocent way. “Ou? What are you saying?” You were about to leave the room, when suddenly he introduced you, out LOUD, in front of his fans. “Caratdeul! This is Nurse L/N, she’s taking good care of me! Don’t worry for me. Nurse L/N, please say hello!” By now, you were palpitating. Your phone would ring any moment. Any- “Hello, I am Nurse L/N. I’ll take your leave now, Jeonghan-ssi,” you said, without showing your face on the camera. 
But Yoon Jeonghan had no intention to let you escape. “Nurse L/N,” he cried out, with a pout on his face, his eyes shining behind his glasses, “how does my lego model look?” It was a model of some sports car. “Hmm, looks good!” “Everyone!” A smug look appeared on Jeonghan’s face, “This is the first time Nurse L/N has said my work looks good! This is all thanks to our Carats.” Taking his self-absorbed, smiling-widely-till-his-eyes-disappeared moment as an excuse, you left the room. Because another minute, and you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crossing a line. 
_
You were well into the second month, when the panic attacks started. 
They were most likely triggered by the doctor’s report that morning. Jeonghan-ssi, I’m afraid you’ll need more time to recover. Although your femur’s not broken, it’s extremely weak, and your legs cannot support your weight now. Even after recovery, I would advise you to not dance heavily for at least another month. 
You had been awoken by a sharp scream in the middle of the night, no scratch that, early in the morning, as you could see the first rays of dawn streaming in through the window. Immediately you rushed to Jeonghan’s room, who slept with his door unlocked for such emergency situations. “Are you okay?”
And instead of the calm fairy you expected, you were met by a ghost. 
Yoon Jeonghan was sitting upright in his bed, sweat pouring down from his forehead and arms, his long blonde hair dishevelled, and his chest heaving for air. The worst was over, you reckoned, as you gently stepped closer to him. 
For the first time in two months, you saw fear in Yoon Jeonghan’s eyes. As soon as you came near the bed, he reached out to grip your hands. You whispered to him, endlessly rubbing his arms and his back, it’ll be alright, you’re okay, don’t worry, i’m here, you’ll be okay, you’re safe with me, until you could feel his heart rate slow down to a normal pace. 
He then looked at you, in such an inexplicably fond way, like-
Like you were his light. 
Like you were the stars in his dark night.
Like you were his world. 
And you succumbed to the urge of hugging him. You pressed him gently to your body, trying to relay your warmth to his colder body, initially hesitant as to how he would receive your action. 
To your surprise, he pulled you in closer. You realised it was his anxiety speaking, his fingers still trembling from the shock. And not his need to be close to you, as your dumb brain hoped somehow. 
But then, he kept the hope alive. 
“Stay with me tonight, Y/N.”
_
The entire day, you were extremely distracted, both in school and at work. Fumbling with things, clumsily dropping things, and forgetting important tasks. Yoon Jeonghan had called you by your first name for the first time. This single thought kept spiralling in your head, finding root in some delusion or the other. The entire night, you had spent with him. Hugging him first, then he had laid down and put his head on your lap. And you had stroked his hair, until he was asleep. You had sent a text to Seungcheol, asking him to come and stay with Jeonghan, as you didn’t want to leave him alone like this but you couldn’t miss classes today. He had immediately agreed, and turned up sharp at 7 am. Instead of waking up Jeonghan, you had left your blanket next to him to fool him of your presence, and left the house, leaving the man in his best friend’s care. 
Last night had been a monstrous event for the tiny feeling you felt in your heart every time you thought of Jeonghan, which was actually nearly every second. Long forgotten was Minho and his stupid face and stupid voice and stupid pick-up lines. The only voice which sent warm electric shocks through your entire body was the one that belonged to Yoon Jeonghan. You kept texting Seungcheol, asking him for updates, whether Jeonghan had eaten, whether he had bathed, whether he had taken his afternoon nap, whether he was talking normally, whether his blood pressure was normal, so on and on. Even when his replies satisfied you, you were always nervous about what was happening back home. 
Home. 
Was the house you spent your nights in now home? Was the subway station you had now gotten used to getting off at home? Was the bedroom you slept in now home?
Or was he home?
When you did return to your home, you found the man who had occupied all your thoughts through the day sitting next to Seungcheol, giggling about something on his phone. “Oh you’re here!” Seungcheol says, popping up when he spots you enter. “Hi. I came home early.”
Jeonghan’s smile disappears, and you tense up already. You have no idea what’s coming. 
“I’ll be leaving then. He’s been asking for you all day anyway,” Seungcheol smirks against Jeonghan’s little rebellious whines, and your stomach churns in worry. He bows to you, and leaves. Leaving you with the blonde little elephant in the room. 
“So. How are you feeling, Jeonghan-ssi?” You ask after a while, breaking the ice finally. He shifts towards one side of the sofa, and you instinctively step forward, wondering if he wanted to get up into his wheelchair now, but he only pats the seat next to him, asking you to sit down. 
“I’m sorry for last night, Nurse L/N.” There, back to just a fucking nurse. It was a slip of tongue. “You don’t have to be. This is what I’m here for. This is what you’re paying me for,” you chuckle, but he doesn’t even smile. “But I invaded your personal space-” you lean forward, hold his hand, and say, “Hey. Don’t worry. I hugged you out of my own accord.” “Because you wanted to?” he whispers, and you whisper back, your heart beating in your throat, your voice hoarse with emotion, “Yes, because I wanted to.”
“Can you do it again then?”
Quirking your eyebrows, you realised he’s being dead serious. There’s no way he could lie and tease you with such vulnerability in his eyes. And so you hug him. It’s not as close as last night, but the embrace still makes your spine tingle with happiness. You hope against hope he cannot hear your heartbeat. 
When you try to pull away, he lets you, but keeps holding on to your hand. 
“I’m- umm, what they call, clingy. I appreciate physical comfort. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable. You can move away when you like.”
“No. I don’t feel uncomfortable at all. If you like, we could hug more often. Or you could hold my hand. Or put your head on my shoulder or…” you didn’t want to think of his head on your lap again. You would not be able to control the urge to kiss his forehead and eyes and tiny button nose and of course, the pretty lips. 
“But you have a boyfriend…” 
“Huh?” You’re taken aback now. What was this? “I have a boyfriend I don’t even know about?”
“That boy, Minho? You went out on dates with him?” He looks confused. You bite your lip, “Oh. No, I lost interest. We didn’t date, at least seriously.”
“Oh," you saw the clouds in his face clearing.
So he was worried about your boyfriend being uncomfortable with a grown man hugging you for emotional support? Jeez. What did he think your taste in men was?
"Can I make another request?" God, what's this tone? You had never heard it before but you could sure get used to it. Pouty-faced, soft voiced Jeonghan was definitely your favourite. As if you could ever say no to him. 
"Hmm, go on?"
"Can you sleep in my room today?"
You wish you could say no to him.
“In your bed?”
“No, I think your bed can be shifted to my room? It’ll fit also. It’s a single, thin bed.”
You know it will fit. You also know your room is big enough to fit another queen-sized bed. But when you’re that close, how will you be able to tolerate the distance?
“Hmm. I think it could fit. But I think it’s too heavy for me to carry today… maybe I can ask some help from neighbours or friends tomorrow and set it up in your room? Meanwhile today… I could bring a mattress and sleep on the floor.”
“No!” He cried out. “I mean- you can always sleep next to me.” He smiles, a little angelic, a lot devilish. You know he’s teasing now. 
You take away your hand from his, and you can see him begin to whine at the loss of warmth. “On the floor then.”
But yet again, as dawn breaks, he screams awake again, and you notice tears rolling down his cheeks also. He hides his face from you when you sit next to him to calm him down, embarrassed of his tears. You wipe them away with your hands (and not with kisses). 
And that’s how he falls asleep again. He lies down fairly far away from you, at least an arm’s distance. But your hand is still in his, and you can’t sleep, overly conscious about drifting towards him in your sleep. You’re content just taking in his beautiful face through the sunrise, drinking up his features like you’re parched, wishing you could put your fingers at each spot on his face, feeling the bone and the muscle and the skin, feeling his breath.
_
“If you don’t mind me asking… what triggered your nightmare?” You ask him the next morning. Good heavens, it’s a free Sunday after ages, and you had been looking forward to this for weeks now. You had so many plans- ordering food for brunch, catching up on your favourite k-drama, buying a new pair of shoes. But you realised- all of these plans involved Jeonghan. You couldn’t imagine doing any of this without him.
You’re sitting with Jeonghan in the small balcony of his apartment, which overlooks the city almost entirely. It’s a serene view, the sunshine not too harsh, and Yoon Jeonghan hasn’t let go of your hand ever since last night. You hadn’t pushed him too far for answers yesterday, thinking it was a one-time thing. But today, you were getting more curious and worried. 
“Ummm… I’m not too sure myself? I just have a lot of thoughts these days.” You stroke the thumb of his hand which lies in your palm now. “What thoughts? Do you miss your members? Your fans?” “Yeah, I do. But it’s not like that just…” You know he’s hesitating, but he’s seconds away from crying. “Jeonghan-ssi. Go on. I’m here.” 
After a VERY long pause, he says softly. 
“You know how the doctor said I’ll need at least another month, even after this hiatus of three months, before I can go back to my normal self, being an idol.” You hum in between his pauses. “I’m scared, Nurse L/N. I’m scared… they’ll forget me. And even if they don’t, I’ll be disappointing them. I won’t be able to meet my fans’ expectations anymore. They won’t get what they deserve from me.”
“No one deserves anything from you. You don’t owe them anything.”
“You don’t understand,” you can sense his voice getting hoarse and louder. “Fans aren’t easy to explain to- and to be honest, which fan wouldn’t be upset seeing their favourite idol isn’t going to dance well any more? Hell, I’m probably no one’s favourite idol anymore.” He looks away from you, his hand already retracted from yours. 
“Jeonghan-ssi. Firstly, if you really care about your fans so much, they most likely care about you a lot too. Of course, they’ll understand. And secondly, have you checked twitter? Or instagram? They keep talking about your health, and look forward to your live videos-”
He smiles, “Yeah, they’re asking about you too.” You ignore the statement and continue, “I understand where your vulnerability is coming from- but you can only improve your mindset by not thinking of the worst case possible.”
He doesn’t say anything. His face is still sullen, dark clouds storming in his eyes. 
“Jeonghan-ssi, you’re not that easy to forget, and less easier to replace. I don’t think your fans will forget you so soon.” 
He looks at you, his lips pursed in a hopeful trance. You know he’s still extremely scared of the future, but then, who wasn’t? It was only natural to be afraid of uncertainty. You gently pat his head, and ask, “Is one of your band members going to come today? For bathing and dressing you…?”
Frankly, you didn’t understand why they couldn’t keep a full-time caregiver who would be professionally trained to do all the work required. But you had seen Jeonghan’s attitude the first time you suggested this. No. I’m not an object for pity, and caregivers will pity me. Plus I don’t trust them. I trust you, I trust my members. I’m only safe in your hands. You had wanted to ask why he trusted you- was it because he knew you really needed the money and a good place to stay? But you had simply nodded and left the issue. 
“No. I didn’t ask any of them to come today. They have a shooting schedule today.” His voice sounded even more feeble. He probably missed being on set with them, laughing as a whole, playing games, singing and enjoying themselves. From the videos of their show, Going Seventeen, which Jeonghan had himself shown to you, you had noticed how solid their bond was, and how comfortable they were around each other, easier than friends, stronger than family members. 
“Oh.” This meant you would have to bathe him. Shit. 
_
“I’m throwing my shirt!” “Yeah.” You waited outside the door of the washroom as Jeonghan stripped inside, and threw his shirt through the slightly open door. You had become extremely flustered at the thought of dressing and undressing him, but he had provided a simple solution. 
Although you doubted how simple it was, when you could hear him struggling to get his pants off. “Nurse L/N. I think I’ll just bathe with my pants on!” “No! Don’t be a dirty boy. Do you want me to help?” You asked, breathless. “No,” you could hear his sigh, “I’m fine. I’ve got it off. Here, catch!” 
Then there was the sound of the shower opening, the slight squeak of a tap, and a tune being emitted by the man showering there. You left quietly.
_
It was around 3 in the afternoon when you both had finished bathing, lunch, folding up laundry (you) and singing random songs (him), watching one episode of a k-drama (him) and wondering why hearts ached without any attack (you). “I’m going to take you out. Enough of staying indoors. It’s eating into your brain.” You announce. 
He almost jumps with you, but then winces. “But where? I don’t want to make a public appearance to collect sympathy and pity.” “You’ll see. You said you trust me, right?” He smiles, “Ayy. Human trust doesn’t go that far.” But you can see the excitement build in his eyes. “It’s a surprise.” “Surprises are not nice.” You tie up his eyes with a blindfold, leaving him no option but to huff and puff and whine and sulk.
But this surprise is nice. Jeonghan’s face lights up like a million watt bulb when you take off his blindfold and reveal him sitting in his dance practice room, all his members standing around him. He squeals in joy, and they all start talking instantly, making it too loud a chaos for you to decipher. Hell, you haven’t even been able to tell their voices apart yet. 
The man you know as Channie, comes to you and bows. “I’m so thankful to you for bringing Hyung here. Thank you for taking care of him!” Another man, Seokmin, joins him, and they both smile at you widely. You blush, suddenly caught off guard by the attention, and excuse yourself from the room, leaving the boys to their antics. You text Jeonghan that you’re going to meet up with your childhood best friend, and you’ll be back to pick him up whenever he calls. 
But he never calls you back. The members carry him around- they go to some restaurant, eat barbecue and drink a hell lot of beer, and then they drop him home. You had returned a couple of hours back, and when you see three strong able-handed men entering the house with Jeonghan, you take the chance. 
“Jeonghan-ssi. Do you still want me to bring my bed to your room?” Although the other three men stare at Jeonghan quizzically, he solemnly nods. Seungkwan asks you, “Are you sure that’s okay with you? I t’s a really weird request!” Mingyu adds, “Yeah, Hyung, if you need her anytime, you can just call out for her, she’s anyway in the same house.” But Jeonghan won’t have it. “Yah, please. Nurse L/N, please.” You sigh and say, “He’s not feeling strong enough to sleep alone. It’s okay, I’ve done this before. I understand the need for physical comfort.” “Are you sure?” Seungcheol asks you, and you nod your consent. Then he says, “We’ll help you bring the bed then!” 
That night, Jeonghan slept on his own bed, and you on your own, but he said he felt more relief knowing you were around him. I’m worried for you too, you know. Worried? What on earth for? Nothing, just. I’m feeling over-protective for everyone who matters to me right now. It was safe to say you slept in a constant dream-like state. Jeonghan did not wake up that night, and even if he did, it didn’t wake you up. You woke up only to your alarm next morning, breaking your haze of dusty, autumn dreams of blonde ponytails, flowers in a garden, and a pretty face belonging to the man lying next to you. 
_
Third month in, and you were feeling a little under the weather. Perhaps it was the flu passing around in your college for a while now, but you had been strictly banned from going to the hospital (an order you had cried and begged your supervisor to take back, fearing this was the premature end to your internship, but he had calmly asked you to come back when you were well). Jeonghan, meanwhile, was now out of his wheelchair, and simply walking about using a pair of crutches. He was in a better mental state now, as the nightmares became fewer and less intense, and his general moodiness also dissipated. 
But of late, he was being too affectionate towards you. Perhaps it was the reason behind you falling in. His sickly sweet smile whenever you complimented him for walking well, his blush of shy satisfaction when he completed any small task you gave him. One day you stepped into the house and almost screamed before the man sitting on the sofa turned around and showed you that it was none but Jeonghan, with his hair dyed black now. 
And dear heavens. That black mop of hair would kill you. 
For, if blonde Jeonghan was an angel, an embodiment of sunshine, a picture of innocence, black-haired Jeonghan was all of that but a slight rough edge to him, making his features even sharper and his eyes even deeper. It was all you needed to stab a dagger in your heart every day. Now that you’re stuck at home on a leave for 10 days, you have nothing to do except look at this man, laugh at his antics and calm down the growing anxiety in your heart as to what you’d do after these three months got over and your contract would expire. And even though you never voiced your worries out loud, Jeonghan somehow caught them. 
“How many months are left till you graduate?” “About five months?” “Hmm. You can actually stay in my apartment throughout and not go back to the shitty place you showed me pictures of.” You gawk, “You’re crazy, how could I ever do that!” “No I’m serious, Nurse L/N.” You stick your tongue out, not interested in his pity offers. “You know what your problem is, Nurse L/N?” Your face is still turned away from him. “You’re just so stuffed with pride. That’s why you’re not taking the medicines I’m giving you at correct times.” 
Oh, how the tables have turned. 
“I’m fine.” You stress on every syllable, but Yoon Jeonghan can’t seem to take the hint and buzz off. 
And that’s your biggest issue. He doesn’t even tease you as much as he is genuinely caring for you now. As if you’re really his friend. You wonder what has brought about this kind of absurd change in him. It’s not like anything had changed in how he saw you. Nurse L/N.
_
You were wrong about his teasing nature mellowing down. The next morning, when your supervisor had called, you had been in the washroom, and instead of just letting the call go until you returned, he had picked up the call and introduced himself as your Oppa. 
Indigestion just had to hit you that very day.
You had no option but to let your blood boil in embarrassment as you overheard the entire conversation, helpless and frustrated. 
“Yes, umm… she’s really stupid. She keeps forgetting stuff, you must know hahaha. No wonder she’s totally forgotten about mentioning me. I’m her local guardian haha.”
You hoped he would clarify something about the Oppa tag. Mention that he wasn’t your boyfriend. Mention that he was your brother or something. Or even an older friend, but in vain. Jeonghan was hell-bent on spreading rumours in the hospital about your love life, one would think.
“Yes! I know. She’s recovering now, I’ve been taking good care of her.”
“Oh no, she doesn’t have any family per se. She just has me.”
“Aaah no no, it’s no like that…” you could hear his voice ambiguously trail off, leaving several loose ends. This must’ve been a question about that-
“Oh sure! Thank you. I’ll let her know asap. Yes, yes tomorrow. Thank you.” 
After three minutes when you emerged from the washroom, pissed and stressed, Yoon Jeonghan was smiling to himself while watching a video on Youtube. 
“What was that call for?”
“Which call?”
You stare. He budges. “Oh, your supervisor had called. He was asking if you can join back tomorrow. I said yes.”
“Why did you pick up?”
“Why not! Would you rather lose the one chance your supervisor gave you to come back?” He smirks, knowing he had hit your weak spot. “But even then. You’re not my Oppa.” “Huh? I’m four years older than you!” 
“Jeonghan-ssi. Just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean you can introduce yourself as my Oppa. Are you dumb or do you not understand the connotations of such an introduction?” 
There was a pause. 
“What would you suggest I’d introduce myself as? I didn’t want to say my name-”
“Her friend would just do. Or her neighbour. Or her classmate from college.”
“Those wouldn’t have had similar connotations? Any boy answering any girl’s call would have similar connotations, Y/N-aah.”
Another pause. Maybe he hadn’t realised he had called you by your first name. 
“Then you should have just introduced yourself as the patient I’m taking care of in the night shift. Everyone knows about that, Jeonghan-ssi. Honestly, anything but Oppa. You’re not my Oppa.”
Before he could reply, you take your phone from the table and lock yourself into your room for the rest of the morning, too overwhelmed to say anything else or even look into the eyes of that dangerous man. 
_
There had been very little conversation between the two of you through that day and the next, before you left for work again. He had tried a lot to initiate conversation with you, weird questions interrupting the silence now and then. But you were honestly too stressed to take any of his excuses and forgive him. 
How dare he call himself your Oppa, when in three weeks he was going to simply forget you totally? How dare he even call you by your first name and break the professional formalities that were standard? You had thought the first time, that night, had been a slip of tongue in feverish delusion. This was no delusion. In bright daylight, he had crossed the line and called you by your name. 
Although it shouldn’t matter much, you rationaled. Oppa could mean a dozen different things. No one would assume it meant boyfriend. 
But oh, you were so so wrong. You knew it as soon as you stepped into the hospital after an extremely tiring day at university, and saw people staring at you. You reached your supervisor’s cabin to mark your attendance, and he too gave you the weirdest looks. The peak of the entire farce was when Hyerin, your closest friend at the internship, whispered to you after hugging you warmly to welcome you back, “YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU HAD A BOYFRIEND?!” Aargh. 
“He’s not a boyfriend. He’s just the patient I’m taking care of. He randomly messed with me and introduced himself as my Oppa.”
“BUT I HAD NO IDEA HE’S LIKE A YOUNG GUY? I thought he’s a sixty-something fellow, no offence to old men who call themselves Oppa-”
“Yeah he’s a young guy. I told you he had broken his leg?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah. Breaking legs doesn't require the person to be old. It was an accident while he was crossing the street.”
 “Still! This changes thing, hmmmm” she smirks, and you know where it’s headed. “Being in close quarters with a man only slightly older than you… are you sure he’s not dashingly sexy? Not a sugar daddy type? I could come and help you in your nursing job then.”
“No, and no. He is pretty good-looking, but I don’t care. Now move and let me start my work before boss comes and sends me on a leave again.” Hyerin wasn’t that close to you to know about the deepest secret of your heart. No one except your one childhood bestie knew about it. And you both had sworn on your childhood rings to never divulge secrets. 
_
To make matters worse, you played a voice note sent by Jeonghan loudly, as soon as you got out of the operation theatre. Right in the corridor. 
In your defence, he had sent three messages just before and after that, definitely impatient that you hadn’t heard his voice note, saying URGENT!, and you had fallen for the bait. Instantly playing it, without realising your volume was full, you cringed and almost threw your phone away instantly. 
Napipopeta piripu pipiretta. Napi-
“You’re watching Instagram reels at work?!” Somehow your supervisor had also come out into the corridor and had heard the voice note. “You know social media is banned when you’re on duty!” 
“Sir, I was just listening-” 
“No arguments! So irresponsible. You’ll be staying back till 10 pm today, Y/N!”
_
“Okay Nurse L/N. Enough of the silent treatment. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be something I’m not… I just didn’t think of the consequences as much. Sorry, please?” He gave you the softest puppy eyes ever given by humankind, as you ate the ramen you had made for dinner.
You hadn’t uttered a single word since returning, just too upset and tired. But now you had to say it. “Was that voice note a joke?”
His eyes widened, “I- I just sent it… thinking your mood would become better hearing it… my fans really like that song…”
You bite your lower lip.
“My boss heard me playing it. That’s why I came home late.”
He stays silent for a minute. “I’m sorry if it got you into trouble. I just thought…”
And out of spite, just out of spite, and pent-up emotions spilling over, you say the worst thing ever. 
“Your voice can never make my mood better, Jeonghan-ssi.”
_
Something had snapped between the two of you since that day. 
You had tried to build up a wall between you two, trying to keep distance that you felt was necessary to get your heart used to what was just coming within two weeks. He tried to break that wall, going out of the way to be with you, even helping you study for an exam coming up. He was needing lesser and lesser care by the day, as he regained strength in his legs, and was quite determined to live by his old habits. He would leave the house without waiting for your support, he would cook sometimes, he would also do the laundry. 
He did everything to make you feel lesser and lesser wanted in the house.
And you really took the cue. You started minimising your interactions. Even sleeping in the same room became too difficult for you, and you spent many hours on the couch before going to your bed, waiting for him to fall asleep. You would limit conversation to the necessities, taking all possible steps to reduce his dependency on you. 
“Why are you doing this?” He asks you, one night, after you both had lied down in your beds but it was obvious that sleep eluded you. 
“What?” You whisper back, hesitant. “This. Becoming far away from me.”
There are massive pauses between your replies, and you can hear him holding in his breath through the entire pause.
“You anyway don’t need me much. It’s only best if I move away from you.”
“Physically perhaps- but I thought we could be…”
“Hmm?”
“Friends. Are we not friends?”
Friends. You had stopped wanting to be friends for a very long time now.
“It’s not possible. You and I belong to different worlds, as cliche as it sounds. We can’t be friends.”
“Why not?”
“Have you seen how your fans have taken to stalking me on my social media? I’ve had to delete my accounts everywhere. If they find out who I am, they’re not just going to kill me, but the contract and all the payment I got from this job will be forfeited.”
“Kill you? Isn’t that too extreme?” You can hear him shuffle closer to your end in his bed, his voice closer to you now. 
“They’re going to brand me as a golddigger. And even if they don’t kill me, I’ll definitely kill myself then.” 
“There, again you and your pride.”
“You’re laughing at my self-respect?”
“No, I respect it. Not many can be so stoic.”
“Goodnight, Yoon Jeonghan.”
“Nurse L/N.”
You don’t want to reply. You pretend you’re asleep.
“Y/N-aah.”
You know he’s heard the change in your breath and he continues. “There are really just six days left?”
“We can reduce it if you like.”
“Can you not be so snappy? It’s really not funny anymore.” He sounds agitated, his voice on the verge of breaking. 
“Are you really saying this to me? Why do I have the responsibility to make it seem funny? You have a problem with me having real emotions too?”
“I never said I have a problem with anything. But this attitude of yours is, frankly, uncalled for, in my opinion. Or you’re not telling me something I should know. And this is bothering me.”
Another pause before you reply. 
“I’m going to leave in six days, Yoon Jeonghan. You better stop being bothered by me.”
_
You don’t know what’s come over you. Suddenly you can’t breathe in the house anymore. You don’t even want to call it home these days. 
Ever since that conversation, Jeonghan had stopped putting in as much effort. You had far overstayed your welcome, and he really needed you to be gone now. Maybe get a girlfriend to visit him. Must’ve been sad without sex for three months for him. Your heart ached every morning when you saw him as soon as your eyes fluttered open- an angelic face, his mouth slightly parted open as he slept in his dream world. You wanted to kiss him (honestly every minute nowadays you did, even if you burnt yourself up, that desire did not disappear.)
It was a crush, you convinced yourself. Finals were coming up, you’d get busy, you’d forget about him. Easy peasy. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to delete the little gallery of pictures you had formed in your phone- including photos he had sent you, photos of him that you had taken, and the three photos of you two together.
The first had been clicked on the night when he had let go of his wheelchair and first taken up the crutch. Many of his bandmates were there, and they had all cheered loudly. Because you had been standing right next to him, holding his arm to stabilise him, Wonwoo had clicked a photo of you too right at the moment when he was looking into your eyes with the joy of letting go of the wheelchair, and you were looking right back at him. It was a coincidental photo, and a photo meant to be only of Jeonghan, but you kept smiling when you looked at it. It almost gave the illusion that it was … for lack of better words, a photograph of affection. 
The second was a selca. Correction, it was Jeonghan’s selca, which he had clicked without you even knowing, so you were obliviously watching the drama on the television, eating ice cream. He had even posted it on Weverse, blurring you out obviously. But his fans had caught the second hand in the photograph, zoomed into it, and somehow figured out it was a female hand, and then conducted several polls amongst themselves whether it was his girlfriend, his sister, his mother, his friend or his nurse (how would they ever know though?). The results of the poll had been varied, and some had even claimed: guys we don’t know if the nurse and the girlfriend are different people hehehe you know what i mean!! Ugh, these conspiracy theories. 
The third one had been the most recent one. You were on a video call with your childhood friend, and he had just entered the room without knocking. He had said hi to your friend, who had smirked and giggled and tried to make suggestive comments until you winked at her to shut the fuck up. Finally he had left after asking you some really redundant questions, making you wonder why he had even entered your room. Your best friend had taken a screenshot of the two of you talking, and she had practically squealed over call god, he’s so handsome!!!! And he’s so in love with you!!! Did you see how he was doting on your face with every word you uttered?! AWWWW! Y/N, I’d say wife him up immediately!
You had laughed then, and you laughed at it now. Every time you scrolled through this secret gallery, you had nothing but a fond smile tugging at your lips, no matter how distant you wanted to make yourself from the man, who had slowly, but surely, taken up all of your heart, and was showing absolutely no intention to leave. 
_
You packed your bags and stood in front of the door, waiting for Jeonghan to bring whatever he was looking for in his bedroom. He had vehemently protested against you helping him, and as a result, a search that could’ve been completed in seconds, was now taking minutes. 
Eventually, he appeared. He had a bag for you in his outstretched hand, and you silently took it from him. Peeping in, you saw everything was wrapped with paper. “What’s this for?” “Thank you, Nurse L/N for taking care of me.” He smiled, continuing, “I don’t know why you’re angry at me. But I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way. Please accept my gift.” Your heart was melting with each step he took towards you, eventually so close that you could see your reflection in his eyes. It was too close for you to breathe, but you realised you wanted to get used to this proximity.
“Thank you, then. Jeonghan-ssi, you’ve been an excellent employer these past three months. Thank you for taking good care for me, as well” and you lightly bow. 
“How do I see you again?” You’re stunned. Why does he want to see you? “Do I have to break my leg again?” his whispers grow ragged.
You try to crack a joke, “Or you could break an arm,” but he doesn’t smile. He seems impatient for an actual answer. “Or you could call me. We can hang out once every couple of months, if you’re free. Or you could just… you know, call and talk.”
He wants to say something, but your phone begins to ring. Your best friend must have arrived downstairs to give you a ride to her house. You had decided to stay with her for the remainder of the university term.
“Goodbye, Yoon Jeonghan-ssi.”
“Goodbye, Y/N. I’ll miss having you around.” 
You don’t believe him. You think he’s just being nice. But oh, somewhere deep down, you hope it’ll be true. You smile at him, tight-lipped, but genuine. He doesn’t smile back.
And just like that, you’re gone. 
_
The next month, you don’t hear from him at all. Your internship has also ended, and you’ve started studying hard, applying to various specialisation courses, and basically trying to forget him. It works, frankly, because with your closest friend around, you have your mind on other things. Such as her extremely toxic situationship, which she doesn’t even realise is harming her, but you keep warning her to step off. Such as her mother baking cookies for you as winter sets in. Such as visiting your own mother’s grave once every week, to give her flowers, a new ritual you’ve set up. 
It’s on one of these bus rides to the park which has her grave that you cross the hospital where you had your internship. And you spot, your eyes instantly going wide, a certain familiar someone standing at the bus stop right outside the hospital.
You’d have recognised him from miles away. Even if it’s really late in the evening, the twilight setting in, you can recognise him. 
You want to look away and continue the ride to the original destination. You want to ignore him. You want to push away the thought of him waiting (for who?) in front of the hospital where you worked at while staying with him.
But you can’t. You immediately step out of the bus, paying your fare, and walk up a little bit to reach the spot he’s standing. He’s looking the other way so he doesn’t really notice when you come and stand behind him. Until you cough a bit.
And you’ve never seen Yoon Jeonghan smile this brightly before. Never. Not while you were in his house, not even in the videos of him that miraculously come up on your Youtube algorithm now. 
“What are you doing here?” you don’t know why, but your voice cannot go beyond a whisper. In the empty streets after dark, he can hear you clearly though.
“You came.” he whispers back.
“You were waiting for me?”
“Who else would I wait for in front of the hospital you worked at?”
“I don’t work there anymore. My internship is over.”
“So I heard. But I had no idea where you live now, and apparently it’s not safe to go to your university if I have to keep you a secret.”
“But waiting in front of a hospital in the dark is safe?”
“It’s a hospital. No one is looking at me here. I’m not the important person here, for anyone.”
You can’t help but say, “You are, for me.”
_
The stars are out, the cars are flashing by, and you’re walking alongside Yoon Jeonghan on a silent road. Sometimes your arms brush, sometimes he smiles too much for your heart to take, sometimes you look at him for so long that he breaks eye contact. For once in your life, you don’t want to overthink this. Even if tomorrow you wake up and realise this was a dream, you want to live the best dream of your life till the end. 
“Hey,” he whispers when you zone out. You’re standing under a streetlamp now, the smell of flowers from the trees around you filling the air. You’re 100 metres away from a tteokbokki stall, and you want to ask him if he wants to eat some, but he holds your hand at that moment. 
“Y/N.”
“No more Nurse L/N?”
“You’ve stopped being Nurse L/N for me for a long time now.”
Your heart stops. He grazes his thumb over your pulse point. You think you’ll combust.
“Your palm is sweaty, Y/N. Are you nervous?”
How can you not be when he’s right there, in front of you, so close… but still so far? You don’t know how you landed up like this, after an entire month of avoidance, but knowing that he came every evening to look for you in front of your hospital, waiting till the shift was scheduled to get over, has melted your heart beyond control. 
“You’ve cut your hair again.” You finally say.
“Is it looking nice?”
“Hmm… makes you look sharper.”
“Huh?” His eyes are becoming wide now.
You take your other hand out of your pocket and touch his hair with a featherlike touch. “But it’s still so pretty. You won’t cut me, will you?”
He smiles, and leans in, and you can sense him breathing you in. You must be smelling like sweat and grime by now but he doesn’t seem to care. Eventually he places his chin on your head and time has stopped. You can’t help but snuggle into the warm cavity of his body, gently placing yourself against his strong chest, as you can feel now. And somehow, his hands leave yours, and wrap themselves around your back. 
It’s a hug.
And then it’s a kiss on your forehead. A kiss on your scalp. And a kiss in your hair. And you snuggle deeper and deeper into him. 
He pats your hair gently, and you mumble into his chest. “What took you so long, Hannie? Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” it’s half feverish you know, you don’t even expect him to reply. And yet he does. 
“Oh, but Y/N-ah, I’ve been coming to you forever, why did you keep pushing me away, baby?” And you spread your hands around him too, pulling him deeper, until you’re both too squished, and have to move apart for air. 
But only a little bit, just enough so that you can see his face, and he holds your face in his big palms. 
“Y/N-ah. Do you want to come home with me? I want to watch a new episode of the k-drama with you. I’ve really fallen behind it without having you to watch with.”
You smile, his eyes glitter up with the reflection.
“Of course. But only if you promise to hug me more.”
“No. No more hugs. Can I kiss you?”
You suck in a deep breath, lips parting already, at the wonderful tingle going through your body. You could cry right now, with the time he takes to move in and place his lips on yours gently. 
And you do cry. One stray tear escapes your closed eyes, and he kisses that away too.
“Hannie…”
“I’m yours, Y/N-ah. If you’ll have me, forever yours.”
“Of course I’ll have you.”
“Sorry if I kept you waiting for long.”
“It’s okay. You’re worth the wait, anyway.” You smile as you press a kiss on his nose, his little button nose you’ve always found cute. You stand up on your toes and kiss his eyes and his eyebrows and his forehead, but then he stops you. “Baby, let’s go home and then you can kiss me?”
How can you ever say no to Yoon Jeonghan? How could he even think that you’d say no?
“Of course, Hannie. I love you.”
“And I love you, baby.” Another kiss on your lips, and you know you’ve seen heaven. Because if Yoon Jeonghan isn’t the equivalent of heaven, you don’t want to know what is.
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intoanothermind · 7 days
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my heart by your side forever [soulmate aus]
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intoanothermind · 7 days
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a splash of color
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pairing: non-idol!s.coups x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 10/13
word count: 4.7k~
warnings: some angst. food mentions. so much platonic love between cheol n his friends. mentions of other soulmate fics throughout.
daisy’s notes: cheollie :( <3
summary: Seungcheol has lived in a world of grays since he was ten. He’s beyond tired of it and depending on the people around him to tell him what color his shirt is, or which apples are the green ones, or if that bottle is water or clear soda… So where are you, soulmate? He’s waiting.
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Choi Seungcheol considered himself to be someone who was strong. Physically, yes, but he’d been the friend people could count on. Jeonghan once told him that he looked dependable, and that seemed to come true in the way he went about his day. He was the one who would hold his friends up when they were struggling, always with advice or a distraction if that was what they needed. He was the coworker who spoke up when someone was being treated horribly, using his position to protect others. And he was, admittedly, the person who would get called up when they were moving (you’re welcome, Boo Seungkwan). He had his reasons for being strong… but the biggest came from the day he turned ten.
The day of his birthday, he spent it sitting in a doctor’s office, holding his mother’s hand as he stared at boring posters on the wall. The doctor droned on and on about how this was normal, and his mom hung onto every single word he said. Midnight struck, and Seungcheol had slowly watched the colors on the presents he’d found begin to drain away into shades of gray. He’d woken his parents up and their disappointment in him faded into panic: what if it wasn’t his soulmate sign? What if something else had happened to their son? So he’d gone through tests today, just to eliminate what they could the fastest. Sure enough, the loss of color was his soulmate sign… and there wasn’t much relief in the news.
“But how do we find his soulmate?” His mother had clutched his hand within her own, hard enough to hurt. 
The doctor gave a sympathetic shrug. He offered a lollipop to Seungcheol a moment later, wishing him luck. 
Seungcheol threw it in the trash on the way out.
That day had begun a change. A way to adapt to the life he would live for however long. His parents sat in his room as he watched them draw shapes into the tags of his clothing, designating color. His father had laminated a sheet and taped it up inside of his closet door. Every single roommate and friend he’d ever had later in life became his go-to for when he needed a second opinion on his outfits, the same thing his parents had done for him while growing up. Joshua and Jeonghan had been there throughout college to keep him from looking like a disaster—although Seungcheol had his suspicions about some of the shirts he’d worn over the years—and that friend circle expanded from there. He eventually met Minghao, who only saw colors that matched his soulmate’s mood. He’d seen the way Minghao looked at him for the first time upon learning his soulmate sign with the oddest sense of relief. As though it was the first time he’d felt seen in any way. Their experiences differed, but Seungcheol had felt seen, too, with him as a friend. Everyone seemed to understand when Seungcheol gestured toward his eyes with a soft “my soulmate…” as an explanation, too.
Seungcheol had adapted as best as he could, and spent his weekends meeting other people like him. Just in case he found his soulmate that way. He could live like this, sure, but he yearned for the warm embrace of love defined by a shared experience. That was why they had soulmate signs, wasn’t it? 
Yet things were getting harder. A year ago, Seungkwan met his soulmate at an urgent care facility. He’d introduced them to the group with this soft smile on his face, and the two had moved in together a few weeks ago—hence Seungcheol being called upon to help with the heavy lifting… and a bit of the unpacking process, ever the caring dad friend of the group. He’d caught himself on a box cutter that had been left slightly open (earning a million and one apologies from Seungkwan’s soulmate, no matter how many times Seungcheol insisted it was fine). Seungkwan had dropped what he was doing in the kitchen to snag the first aid kit from where he’d already tucked one underneath the kitchen sink, and sat across from his hyung to carefully disinfect it. 
He’d pulled two bandages out, holding them up. “Do you want the pink one with flowers, or the blue one with cherries?”
Seungcheol raised a brow. It was cute, but he had to know…
“We picked them out together,” he had said a moment later, rolling his eyes. “They’re clumsy, and I usually have to patch them up, so we decided to get cute bandages. Now pick.”
“I can’t tell the difference, you know.”
Another pointed look, exasperated at the decision being drawn out this much. “Well? Pick one already before you bleed out.”
“The cherries.” Seungcheol could see the subtle smile tugging at Seungkwan’s lips as he set the other one aside, fingers nimbly unwrapping the bandage. His hands were warm as he held Seungcheol’s hand in one, angling it so that he could smooth the bandage over the side of it. 
For a moment, Seungkwan’s fingertip traced the round red (he assumed) cherries. “You’ll find them, you know. And then I’m going to show you a slideshow of every single ugly outfit Jeonghan tricked you into wearing.” 
Seungcheol found himself smiling already. “I look forward to it.”
Not long after Seungkwan had met his soulmate, Wonwoo ran into his own. He’d been sitting with Vernon and Mingyu apparently, listening to Vernon tell the real story of how Seungkwan found his soulmate. Seungkwan had once said that the day he met his soulmate, he felt as though a part of his soul had come home. There was this newfound sense of peace within him, curling up in his chest like a kitten, that he had never known he’d been longing for. Before Wonwoo, Seungcheol had thought it was Seungkwan being sentimental. Then Wonwoo had sidled up to Seungcheol one night while his soulmate was talking to Mingyu and Jihoon, fingers ghosting over where his string once was. It disappeared with a relieving pop, according to Wonwoo, and yet Seungcheol wondered if Wonwoo still missed it. 
“They were petting a stray cat when I found them, you know,” Wonwoo tucked his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. His shoulders were relaxed, and there was something so tender in his gaze as he watched the way his soulmate laughed at something Jihoon said. “It wasn’t love at first sight, though.” His gaze met Seungcheol’s, and there was a newfound seriousness to them. “But… Seungkwan was right. I found my home.” One of his hands ghosted over his chest, right above his heart. “It was like… Everything was right all of a sudden.”
“They’ve made you sappy,” Seungcheol gently teased.
Wonwoo had cracked a smile, that tender gaze settling onto his soulmate again like a well worn coat. “They like poetry,” he confessed. “I think I’ve been reading more of it for them.” 
Seungcheol understood the feeling. He’d dated before, and he’d done loving little things like that, just to show that he was listening and that he cared. 
“You’ll find them,” Wonwoo said. “I know you will.”
Seungcheol let himself believe that. He believed it for the others, after all: if he believed it for them, then he had to do it for himself, too. That was why he wasn’t surprised when Minghao quietly approached Seungcheol alone. Seungcheol had been at the art gallery that day, actually: he made a point of clearing his schedule enough to drop in and see his masterpiece (not in Minghao’s eyes, but everything Seungcheol’s friends made was a masterpiece in his eyes) as it hung on the wall. He’d seen Minghao with his soulmate, standing next to one another as they discussed more artwork with him. It’d been selfish, but Seungcheol missed having someone within his close circle who understood him. 
All it took was seeing Minghao smile at his soulmate for the first time for that feeling to disappear. He’d seen how badly Minghao struggled, and he hadn’t understood until the day he finally asked him what he meant—just before the exhibit. A few days later, Seokmin had asked Seungcheol to come on a day Minghao had been a little off. A little snowballed into a lot and Minghao’s anger had bubbled up and boiled over within those two hours. 
“It isn’t fair!” He snapped, his canvas still lying on the ground from where he’d thrown it aside. Paint had splattered onto the wooden floor not covered by the drop cloth, and Seokmin had quickly kneeled to scrub it away before it could dry. Minghao stood, fists clenched and heaving in his anger at the world. “They’re ruining my life!”
“Don’t say that.” Seokmin’s gaze softened, voice even quieter. He’d paused in his task for just a moment, just watching his roommate. “Minghao…”
Seungcheol faced his soulmate sign with patience. Minghao lived with an anger he hid underneath it all, buried under hours of meditation and self reflection. 
“I wish I didn’t have a soulmate!” He sobbed, and Seungcheol crossed the room quickly to pull him into his arms. Minghao crumpled into him all too easily, as though he was being held up by toothpicks. “I can’t,” he hiccuped, “I can’t keep doing this. How am I supposed to paint when they’re ruining everything for me?!” 
Seungcheol could only hold him as he cried, fingers digging into his shirt as he held onto him for dear life. And then, a few months later, Minghao had quietly introduced his soulmate to Seungcheol first.
He’d waited until they went to the bathroom to explain. “Because you understand me,” he said, squeezing Seungcheol’s hand in reassurance. Who it was for, Seungcheol wasn’t sure. “Every time I go out with them, I can’t help but regret everything I’ve felt toward them.” His voice dropped lower, softer, to keep their conversation between the two of them. “They’re understanding, and kind, and… I think I’m falling in love with them, Cheol. And I’m scared.”
Seungcheol squeezed his hand back. “That’s okay,” he said. “They seem very kind. Do they know…?”
“I think they might.” Minghao glanced toward the bathroom for just a moment. “I’ll tell them one day that I struggled. They deserve to know.” He took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. “I wanted you to meet them first because you were right. I wanted to love them.” His fingers curled around Seungcheol’s hand, holding on tight. “I still do.” He paused, and wiped at the tears brimming with a soft chuckle. “I think… I think you’re going to be worse, though.”
Seungcheol raised his brows. “Hm?”
“When you meet your soulmate,” he said. “You’ll cry, I think.”
Seungcheol laughed at that, warm as ever. He already knew that he would. 
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The rest of the group seemed to be finding their soulmates over time. Joshua met his soulmate in the space between Vernon and Jihoon meeting their own, and Seungcheol saw the telltale relief on the latter two’s faces. The two of them didn’t have obvious signs, after all: Seungcheol knew the way that kind of thing could affect someone. Seungcheol would sit around, thinking about his own soulmate as he watched his friends meet theirs. Would he rather have this sign, or be like them, wondering if he had a soulmate. Would he have already found someone perfect for him? Or would he leave them for his soulmate if he met and loved them more? The thought alone made his chest ache.
It was better like this. Even the idea of heartbreak was enough to unsettle him.
“He’s turning red, by the way,” Vernon casually said as Jihoon watched his soulmate step away to socialize with Mingyu, who had called them over to ask them something about their current hair color—a perfect match for Jihoon’s, as it always is. 
“So?” Jihoon said, and then looked up to realize Vernon was standing next to Seungcheol. He was choked up for a moment, betrayed by Vernon—Vernon, who Jihoon adored like a little brother. “Why would you tell him that?!” He frowned despite the way Vernon chuckled. “The one person who can’t tease me about it yet…”
“Yet,” Seungcheol emphasized. He smiled behind his sip of beer, looking away for a second. Everyone seemed to speak as though they knew.
“I’ll find them myself if I have to,” Jihoon said. “However you meet them will be better than how I met mine.”
Joshua threw an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder, chuckling. “You mean being yelled at in a beauty store isn’t your ideal way of meeting your soulmate?”
“Didn’t your soulmate yell at him, too?” Vernon nodded toward Jihoon.
Jihoon cracked a smile. Ah. Yes. Jihoon did have a role in Joshua’s soulmate hearing that same song over and over and over. “They did.”
“We can’t all have a soulmate we’ve been in love with for months,” Joshua said, reaching out to flick the back of Vernon’s head. “Jerk.”
(Or years, if they were Jeonghan, looked as if he’d rather be home and asleep right now.) 
Seungcheol had laughed along with the others, only for it to fade soon enough. There was so much love in the room that he hadn’t exactly felt in a while, always afraid to fully commit to someone when this great love was still out there. “Is it worth it?”
The group fell quiet around him. No one ever felt the need to hide their soulmate with the group, even with those who didn’t have them. They were adults, after all: they could handle someone having what they didn’t (whether that was yet or at all differed from person to person). But Seungcheol knew that they were always treading lightly, never going too far when talking about their soulmates. Vernon had been the first one who met his gaze and nodded.
“Yeah. It’s worth it.” He paused. “It’s hard… but it’s worth it.” 
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Things had begun to change even more after Mingyu met his own soulmate. Seungcheol remembered sitting down for dinner with him and a few others, officially celebrating that Vernon found his soulmate. Everyone knew about the words neatly inked onto Mingyu’s bicep, always something to tease him about. Sometimes Seungcheol wished he had something like that. It’d give him more of a hint about who his soulmate was, maybe. Mingyu’s soulmate knew that he was a sap: what would Seungcheol’s soulmate be like? Would they look at him and see someone reliable and strong? Or would they see someone pouting at his friends teasing him and think him silly? He’d deal with as many silly thoughts as he could if it meant he knew something about this person. 
Yet he remembered something that Mingyu had said to his soulmate: I can wait a little longer for you. Seungcheol could wait, too, and he would, but…
“Would you have?” Seungcheol asked one night, stretched out in a lawn chair. Mingyu was sitting in the other, nursing a beer between his hands, and maybe the two of them had been drinking a little too much. “Waited for them longer, I mean.”
Mingyu’s eyes were twinkling as he looked up at the sky, that bashful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes.”
I can wait a little longer for you. Seungcheol wasn’t surprised Mingyu meant it. Mingyu was one of the sappiest people he knew, always so in love with everything and everyone around him. Others were warmer, more sunshine-y and loving, but Mingyu found something beautiful in life itself. Handsome as he was, Mingyu had one of the biggest hearts of anyone Seungcheol knew. 
“Hey…” He pawed through the air toward Seungcheol’s hand, and Seungcheol rolled his eyes with a smile as he extended it. Mingyu wrapped his fingers around his palm, squeezing it tight. “I’m sorry you haven’t found them yet.”
Chan had met his soulmate right after Mingyu through the joint effort of said soulmate and their best friend. He was already enamored with this giddy joy, gushing about something cute they were doing. Jeonghan had finally met his soulmate face to face a month ago. It didn’t surprise him that Jeonghan had already talked about life plans after years of being in love with this person. Maybe Seungcheol was destined to find his soulmate last. He was okay with that: he’d rather see his friends happy first, and then find that happiness for himself.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“No, no, it is,” his voice was tinged with this drunken laughter that made Seungcheol wonder what was so funny. He “It is.” He calmed down, squeezing his hand tighter. “You always pretend you’re okay, but we know you aren’t. We know it’s hard.” He looked over to where Seokmin and Soonyoung were standing. “Not just for you, too, but…”
Seungcheol looked toward the house where Jun was yelling at the others through his own laughter. They had all been doing stupid dares, and Jun was apparently the unfortunate victim of a severe switch between salt and sugar. He was half-offended that they’d given him this when they all knew that he and his soulmate could taste what the other was eating. He didn’t want to scare them off by making them think he was some weirdo who messed around with weird flavor combinations.
“I mean it.” Mingyu brought him back to the moment, swinging their connected hands for a moment. “It’s hard, and we know you’re strong… But it’s okay if you aren’t, okay?” He smiled softly at him. “We can be strong with you.” 
Seungcheol knew this well. He’d opened up to his friends before that he’d never find his soulmate and never know why they were meant for him. He’d seen the way everyone else seemed to fit together well. Seungkwan and his patient, caring soulmate who seemed to lovingly challenge him. Wonwoo and his quiet soulmate who seemed content to snuggle close to him and whisper little things that would make him smile. Vernon and his laid-back soulmate who would make playful jabs and match his energy. What would his soulmate be like? Would they be someone who enjoyed caring for others…? He’d started going on blind dates again a little after Vernon found his soulmate, and none of them seemed to work. 
“The right person will find you,” was what Jeonghan said to him, laying down beside him, a week after Mingyu reassured him lovingly. “Whether they’re your soulmate or not, you’ll find them.” 
But what if they don’t? Seungcheol shut his eyes. Not everyone lived like Jeonghan, who dreamed over and over of his soulmate until he finally found them. He’d fallen even deeper in love with his soulmate now that he could kiss them for real. Soonyoung had hugged Seungcheol a little longer the last time it was just the two of them. It was bothering him, and it bothered Seokmin, too. Jun knew his soulmate was out there, the same as Seungcheol. Those two…
Seungcheol chose to believe they had soulmates, too. Whether they were ordained by the universe or to be chosen by them in time, Seungcheol wasn’t sure. But if he had a soulmate, then Seokmin and Soonyoung had to, too. He had to hold onto hope with white knuckles when the others were starting to struggle. If he didn’t, then… Who would?
“I know,” Seungcheol sighed out. He turned onto his side, opening his eyes to watch how Jeonghan had pulled out his phone. “What did they send you this time?”
Jeonghan looked over, humming before the question sank in. “You don’t want to hear about my soulmate.”
He snickered a little. “I do! You don’t have to share, but you can still talk about them if you want to.”
Jeonghan angled his screen so that Seungcheol could see the long video essay (a rant about a book, apparently) that his soulmate had sent to him. “They’re watching this,” he said. He smiled a little more, eyes crinkling slightly, “They’re cute. I don’t know if I’ll watch it, but I like knowing what they’re watching.” 
Seungcheol wondered what you were watching, wherever you were. “Jeonghan?”
“Mhm?”
“I’m glad you found them.” 
Jeonghan dropped his phone onto the mattress beside him, and his hand found Seungcheol’s a moment later. “I’m glad I found you and Joshua.” He let out a soft hum. “I think I would have struggled much more without you two being in my life. So…” He turned his head. “Thank you for being here.” 
Seungcheol’s grip tightened around his friend’s hand, and he found himself smiling. “Yeah. You too.” 
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“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Joshua was nervously patting down his pockets for the fifth time in the past few minutes. “They’re not alone. I know grocery shopping for stuff like this gets hard, and—”
“I’m fine.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “I’ve done it alone before. Stop acting like I can’t handle myself. It’s fine that you’re worried—”
“I’m not worried,” Joshua immediately said. “I’m fine. They’re not alone, I’m fine, I just—” He let out a sigh. “It’s mostly my list. I’ll take my things off, and you can just worry about the staples, and—”
Seungcheol managed just fine most days when he needed to get groceries. After all, most things had labels on them or near them in some shape or form. Unfortunately, there were a few too many things that had colors written beside them. This list was more Joshua’s list than his own (Joshua had plans to surprise his partner with a dessert they’d lovingly gazed at while out together a week ago), but Seungcheol didn’t mind doing this favor for him. He might have to ask for a little help if he needed to, but this was not as big a deal as it was being made into.
So he rested a hand on Joshua’s shoulder, stopping him from checking again that he had everything before he left. “They need you now,” he said, firm as can be. “Go. I can take care of this.”
Joshua dove forward, hugging Seungcheol tight for a moment. He drew back, “You’re a lifesaver. I’m sure everything’s fine, but—”
“Just go!” Seungcheol laughed softly. “Stop stalling.”
Joshua had thanked him one final time before taking off, the door slamming behind him. Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief. Finally. He looked at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. From what he heard from the on-speaker phone call Joshua had received from his partner’s roommate, Joshua’s soulmate had a slight accident during lunch and now they were waiting to get stitches at urgent care. Apparently, they were nervous about it due to being terrified of needles, and Joshua had gone from being chill and content to absolutely freaking out when their roommate said it was ‘worse’ than they kept trying to make it out to be. Joshua knew how bad his partner could be about undermining their pain. Hence him elevating to a nervous mess and needing to go see them to know how bad it really was.
Seungcheol was sure things were fine. And if they weren’t, then Joshua would be there. He looked down at the list, looking over Joshua’s neat handwriting. Right. The sooner he got back from shopping, the sooner he could take that off of Joshua’s mind. He’d glanced over the list once before leaving, and then again when he finally had a shopping cart at the store. 
… What kind of dessert was this specific about the different apples it needed? No matter. Seungcheol could read the little chalk headings just fine. He snagged a little bag for the apples, and began scanning through the headings for the first kind he needed… only to see one of them had been smudged. One quick google search told him that one was pinker than the other. Shit. Of course. 
“Excuse me,” Seungcheol said when someone had been close enough for him to flag down. “I’m…” He gestured vaguely toward his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t have to elaborate. “I can’t tell which one’s are the pinkish red ones yet. The, uh, the pink lady ones?”
Yet. The magic yet always found its way onto the ends of his sentences when it involved his soulmate. Maybe he should stop.
Yet you’d given him this pitiful smile, looking away. “Really bad luck, then,” you had said. “I can’t really help with that one. Same boat, you know?” You stepped to his side, reaching for one of the apples to turn and find the sticker. “But,” you dragged out the word, squinting at how tiny the words are. “I think these are the ones you’re looking for.” You had grabbed your own bag, looking for a few from the top of the bunch right next to these—a slightly different color, he was sure. “And these are honeycrisp, if you need those.” 
Seungcheol began to gather a few, thanking you. A moment later, he stole a little glance at you. “So… You can’t see color, either?”
You had shrugged. “It is what it is.” 
“You aren’t mad?”
You glanced over at him, brows drawing together. “At my soulmate? Not anymore. But when I was ten? I was pissed.” You let out a sigh. “I loved rainbows as a kid. Rainbow fish, rainbow fruit, rainbows in general… And then I woke up and it was all gone.” 
Seungcheol frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” You shrugged. “Life is hard, but it’d be hard regardless.”
“But this is different.” Seungcheol looked back at the blurry chalk labels and how the letters blended into one another. “Isn’t it?”
“It is,” you nodded. “But… Sometimes they say people like us will lose it again once our soulmate dies. If that’s true, then I want to meet my soulmate and experience that world again together while we can.”
He’d never considered that before. He’d heard the same thing before, too. He spent so much of his life yearning for another person that was supposed to fit perfectly with him that he never thought about what came next after he met them. After all, Minghao and his soulmate had to adjust, didn’t they? The experience linked him to someone else, and it left Seungcheol wondering how his soulmate felt about all of this. Would this bond them? That’s what it was supposed to do, right? Seungkwan shared pain with his soulmate and now his number was one of their emergency contacts, and they were his number one priority when they were together. Joshua could still hear his soulmate sing even now, but softer than it was before (and it still grew softer every day since). There was the unity of a shared experience, and Seungcheol wondered if his soulmate would cry with him the first day they got to watch a sunset together.
“I see.”
“Other people are bothered by it and that’s okay,” you reached toward the top of the apples where they looked the juiciest. “I’ll find my soulmate one day, and then we’ll—”
All at once, life changed. You had lost your balance, and Seungcheol immediately reached to catch you. The bag fell from your grasp as your hands gripped his biceps to steady yourself, apples rolling across the floor as your eyes met his own. He stared at you, lips slightly parted as he tried to find his words just to ask if you were okay. Yet there was the strangest feeling flooding his chest, face growing warmer. 
“Are you okay?”
Yet something was already changing. The first color he saw was your eyes, and the world grew warmer, more saturated with color by the second. He could see the purple of your sweatshirt, the reds and pinks and golds of the apples stacked up upon beige wood. The slate gray tile underneath his feet, the off-white lighting tinged with gold. He could kiss you now, and yet all he could do was look into your eyes again and commit the color to memory. He saw you as you were, and he wanted to commit every little detail and blemish and imperfection to memory.
Your surprise gave way to a smile. “Well… Hello, soulmate.”
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intoanothermind · 7 days
Text
dream a little dream with me
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pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 9/13
word count: 4.7k~
warnings: skinship. food mentions. some slight angst.
daisy’s notes: oh to have a soulmate i meet with in my dreams...
summary: Jeonghan knows you. He might not know your face, but you’re the person in his dreams every night. And frankly… he’s pretty sure he’s already falling for you. He just has to figure out how to find you when the world won’t let him trade names or locations or anything he can actually use. At least he knows your favorite things…
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"Hello...?"
Jeonghan was maybe thirteen when he finally met you for the first time, and you'd already proven him wrong with your existence alone. When he had turned ten, he expected to feel... something. To lose all the colors within his vision, or maybe he would feel your pain or something physical. A name, your first thoughts, your first words... Except he felt nothing. It'd upset him, sure--most people were upset by that kind of thing just on the account of being considered an outsider to their peers. Yet now he'd found himself in a museum filled with paintings he couldn't fully make out, and surrounded by people with blurry faces... Except for you.
He'd blinked. "Hello?"
And you lit up, making your way over to him. "You're...?"
Jeonghan had furrowed his brow, watching you carefully. Why could he see you...? "I'm Jeonghan," he had said, thinking that was what you meant.
You'd given him your given name, too--last name melting into white noise for a second. For a moment, you stood there, brimming with excitement. "We're--We're soulmates."
Immediately, he'd felt lighter at the revelation. "Oh!" Then he paused, brows drawing together once more as a follow-up thought pushed into his head immediately. "Why haven't we met before?"
He'd seen the way you grew more upset, gaze no longer meet his own. "I'm... It's complicated." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I think... Our sleep schedules don't overlap?" You looked up. "I laid down to take a nap for a bit because I was feeling sick, so..."
So you weren't near him. He felt a sting of rejection, even though you hadn't said anything of the sort.. Emotions were weird at thirteen, after all, and something like his soulmate not being near him. Obviously, it wasn't your fault: you didn't pick where you lived. He looked around, and felt... awkward. It was different than meeting someone for the first time in reality. At least other people were around. Now, it just you and him in this dream together.
"Do you wanna talk?" He said after a moment. "Since... I don't know if I'll get to see you again."
"You aren't mad?"
He shook his head. "I just wish you were closer," he crossed his arms. "This isn't fair."
You frowned. "It's not... So let's talk."
The two of you strolled on your own, getting to know one another. He learned the country you were from, even though he wouldn't know what city or town you were in. He learned about this doughnut place in your hometown, though, that you loved to visit when you could. He told you school stories and about his own friends, about the pranks he'd pulled on his little sister... Little things to learn about one another. He learned your favorite color, you learned the foods he disliked...
And then all too soon, you had disappeared within seconds. He had called for you, only to realize that you must have woken up--or been woken up, since it was so sudden. When he woke up the next morning for school, he told his parents that he'd met his soulmate in his dreams (even though he couldn't fully remember your face once he was awake).
Thus began the cycle. He probably needed the naps he would start taking in an attempt to meet you again, but he'd grown used to pushing through his fatigue to work on schoolwork or to spend time with friends. Yet his parents always knew where he'd be when they came home from work, finding him asleep on his bed as he hoped to meet you again.
Sometimes it worked. Sometimes he could sit with you for a little while, long enough to see you off before you woke up for your own schooling. Other times, he'd get home far too late to see you. But every time the two of you met over the rest of your teenage years, you made it work. The two of you would talk more about yourselves, getting to know each other better. He learned how to tell when you were upset, and would let you vent if you needed to. You'd given him a space to talk freely about his own feelings, too: the things that made him happy, or the things that were worrying him in real life...
Most people didn't know about his 'other' life in his dreams. The one where the two of you would go on walks in a city, sometimes holding hands. He'd slowly begun to fall for you over time, realizing that the care you showed him was sweet. The two of you had been strangers years ago, and now he understood maybe that was why the two of you were soulmates.
When he tried to kiss you around eighteen, you stopped him.
"I wanna kiss you for real," you said to him, holding his hands. "I know it's unfair to ask you to wait for me, but--"
"I will." He hadn't hesitated. Although he had kissed a girl once before (he was fifteen, and he realized after he did it that he'd much rather be kissing the person in his dreams) and told you so, he'd held off on dating. He wanted to experience things with you.
You'd squeezed his hands. "You don't have to."
Were you rejecting him...? What if he started dating someone and he loved them more than he already loved you? Part of him felt like he knew he would leave that person if he met you face-to-face, and yet... That meant he would hurt someone else. He'd heard stories about soulmates who left partners to be with one another, and while they were happy, the people left behind grew to resent them. Could he really do that to another person?
"You don't want me to?" He'd pulled his hands from yours, feeling the tiny sting in his chest.
You shook your head. "No, I--I just don't want you to wait around for me forever. What if we never meet?"
But what if we do? Jeonghan felt his heart sink in his chest. "We will," he said. Jeonghan never considered himself a hopeless romantic, but he had the naivete of a eighteen-year-old on his side. "I'll find you. I promise."
Before you could say something, you had begun to fade again. You were waking up. "Jeonghan--"
And then you were gone.
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The first person Jeonghan had told about you was one of his college roommates, Joshua. He'd been listening to the way he'd been venting about how he felt he was annoying his soulmate whenever he sang, and waited until Seungcheol left for class to finally admit it out loud. He'd tell Seungcheol, too, soon: he just... needed to do it at his own pace. Both of his roommates seemed like good people who wouldn't judge him, but he'd already decided. Joshua first, and then Seungcheol. Deciding on that had made it easier, especially since Seungcheol was the busier of the two.
"My soulmate and I share dreams," he had said, pushing around the noodles in his ramyeon cup.
Joshua looked up. "Oh. Really?"
He nodded. "We talk whenever we can. It's hard. They're not from here. Depending on when I take a nap, I can either talk to them for a while or just ten minutes..."
"It sounds hard," Joshua nodded along. He'd sat backwards in his chair, leaning against the back of it with his chest, arms folded over the top. "So what are you doing to find them?"
Jeonghan said nothing.
"... Aren't you going to look for them?"
Jeonghan's gaze flickered up from his food. "I don't know. I don't know if they actually want to be found."
"That's--"
"We talked about it last time we met, a little over a year ago." He pushed around noodles more, never actually eating. "I'm in love with them. I don't know how they feel, although they said they'd rather kiss me for real when we meet. Then they said not to wait for them."
"It sounds like they're in love with you, too," he said.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "Then why tell me not to wait?"
"Well... They're not from here." Joshua rested his chin on his arms. "Maybe they don't want you to feel like you can't date or anything."
"Don't you think I've tried it before?" Jeonghan looked up. "After they said that, I tried to move on, and I spent the entire time comparing her to my soulmate. She's not them."
Joshua frowned. "Dude... If you spend the entire time comparing, them, you're not going to be happy--"
"I know that." Jeonghan let out a sigh. "I just... I tried being with other people. She wasn't the only girl I tried to date--or see at all." They're just my soulmate, and I realized how much I love them every time I try to be with someone else. But would Joshua understand that...? Or would he just sound over-dramatic for someone he'd never met in person?
"I... see." Joshua looked off. "I guess it's different when you know your soulmate."
Jeonghan softened a little when he saw the guilt on Joshua's face. "It's fine," he said. "I just... I wish I could go to them. I don't know where they are, exactly, and it's not like I can go find them."
Can't you? He pushed away the thought. The world was big. .He couldn't just go out and find you--at least, not without looking like a creep. As much as he wished he could just let go of that desire deep within him to be with you, even temporarily, he just couldn't. Not when he'd gotten to know you so deeply. He felt as though a part of him would always be with you now, and that he carried you with him wherever he went.
Joshua understood, though. He listened, and he gave Jeonghan his thoughts whenever he asked for him. Seungcheol would eventually do the same, once Jeonghan told him about his soulmate. Seungcheol hadn't shown any offense to not being told (it was Jeonghan's business, after all). And in the moments in-between, Jeonghan was with you in some way--either thoughts preoccupied with you or in the fleeting moments of sharing a dream space.
"I kissed someone," you confessed at one point. Jeonghan had been sitting underneath a tree with you, fashioning a flower crown out of the little yellow blossoms that littered the ground around him. You craned your neck to look at him, "Are you mad...?"
He shook his head. "Do you like this?"
At first, you didn't move, and he felt his heart falter. "I dunno," you confessed a moment later. "I feel like... Every person I meet, I keep comparing them to you. Like... Hannie would laugh at this joke. Or Hannie would think this. It's like... I can't get you out of my head."
His heart skipped a beat this time as he stared at you, his face growing redder by the second. "... Really?"
"I... I dunno. It's just--I don't want you to think I'm some sort of loser when we meet."
When. Not if. "So you want to find me?"
He saw the way you grew more flustered, eyes landing anywhere but him as you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting. "Yes. Are you mad?" You finally met his gaze. "I mean... I think I hurt you before. When I told you not to wait for me? And we never talked about it, so..."
Jeonghan set the flower crown into his lap, reaching out to cup your cheek. "I'm not mad," he said softly. "Not anymore."
"So you were mad."
He nodded a little after a moment. "At first..." He drew his hand back, shifting over so that he could sit closer to you. "At first I was hurt," he said, "because I thought you didn't want to find me. And... And I really wanted to kiss you, so I thought you were rejecting me, and.. I talked to my friends about it and they told me that it was alright to feel hurt, but that I was making assumptions about how you felt. So..." He dropped his hand down, pressing his palms into the grass. "How do you feel?"
"I've always wanted to meet you," you said outright. "But... I was talking to a few friends, and they kept asking questions about where you lived, and whether we'd get the chance to meet. It felt kinda mean," you moved closer, pressing your back against the tree, so that you could sit next to Jeonghan. "Like... They don't get a guarantee that they'll meet their soulmates. What makes us different?"
"Well, we know each other," he said, hand slipping into your own. "It's easier to accept things if you don't know your soulmate."
"I guess," you nodded along. "But... I dunno, it just made me anxious that we'd never be able to find each other."
"We will," Jeonghan said softly. "We'll make it work. I want to try."
Your hand curled around his, squeezing it tighter. "I want to try, too," you said, firm in what you were committing to. "Hannie?" You paused for a moment, "Jeonghan...? I want to be with you. I know we've never met in person, but can we...?"
He nodded. "Yes," he breathed out, reaching his other hand up to turn your face toward him. "May I...?"
You closed the distance between the two of you. It left him wondering if your lips would be this soft in reality. The last thing he heard was the sound of you saying his name, about to say something else when he found himself back in his couch, heart racing in his chest. He had jolted forward, fully awake out of nowhere, enough that it alerted Joshua and Seungcheol. The two were sitting at their little dinner table when they turned to see Jeonghan.
"... Bad dream?" Joshua called out.
Jeonghan just bolted to his bedroom, shutting himself in as he processed what all just happened. You kissed him. You wanted to be more. You wanted to find him.
And, fuck, he was going to do anything to find you now.
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Most people gave Jeonghan weird looks when he explained his relationship to them. Yes, he hadn't met you in real life yet. No, it didn't really do anything to the relationship--it limited your dates, sure, but you had fun manipulating the dreamscape together to go wherever you wanted to go. Amusement parks with no waits for the rides, or this little cafe in your hometown, or a lovely park at night that Jeonghan walked through alone and wished you were there with him in reality. There were plenty of downsides, sure--neither of you could taste the food that you were eating, or feel the wind on your face--but you made it work and resolved to live these out once you found your way to each other. Sometimes people tried to challenge him: how could he have a relationship entirely with someone in his dreams? Didn't he miss the physical contact?
Which... The answer was a resounded 'yes,' but also it was none of their business. The two of you made it work, end of story. He'd eventually had a friend circle that accepted his relationship with his soulmate, although he'd become insistent that (when Seungkwan met his soulmate) his experience didn't count. That the two of you had agreed that your 'day one' of your relationship would be the day that you met face to face, just to make it easier to pin down a date. Everyone else had a date they could use as an anniversary, and you... Well, you and Jeonghan were different.
Although things had changed years later. All he knew at first was that he went to sleep one night, and you were there.
"... Jeonghan?"
And he'd stared at you, your name slipping from his mouth as he rushed over to you. "Are you sick again?" He frowned. "Honey, I wish I could be there to--"
"No, I... I moved. Remember?"
Right. You... You told him that you were moving for a job opportunity. It'd saddened him a little in the moment because both of you knew it'd make meeting harder, and yet all of that seemed to fade away in an instant.
"So you're...?" He didn't want to speak it aloud. What if it weren't true? What if...?
You nodded slowly. "I think... I'm closer," you said. "I'm in--"
The next few words seemed to dissolve into nothing, like his brain refused to register them. Jeonghan took your face into his hands, tears wetting his cheeks as he shook his head. Why can't it just work? Why can't their connection just let them have this now? You were closer to him. That should mean that the two of you can freely talk, and yet all he could hear was muffled words that he couldn't make out at all.
"We can't," he said, "we'll just... We'll have to find a way without saying names."
It broke his heart every time he saw you cry, and this time was worse. You nodded, though, hands coming up to hold his. "We'll find a way," you said. "Saturdays. I'll... I'll wait for you somewhere." Another name became muffled when you spoke it aloud, and you loudly swore as you broke away from him. "Coffee," you said, turning to him. "I'll... I'll always go to the same place near--" Again, your voice cut out. "Fuck--Just start looking, and--and we'll figure it out if it doesn't work."
"You'll stay there?" He watched you carefully. "All day?"
An eager nod, motivated by how close the two of you were now. "All day. Every Saturday until I find you."
And so it began.
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Jeonghan... truly underestimated how many coffee places existed in this fucking city. But he went out every Saturday morning and spent hours upon hours searching for you. For months, that search came up empty. Joshua had offered to help, but Jeonghan turned both he and Seungcheol (and everyone, for that matter) down. He needed to find you himself. Maybe it was hubris, or maybe it was because he wanted to be the first one to meet you... He wasn't exactly sure anymore. A mix of both, perhaps. You could meet his friends in time, but Jeonghan didn't want anyone else to see you in person before he did. He'd known you this long. He'd been with you this long. He needed to be the first one to see you.
Three months ago, Chan met his soulmate. How much longer would it take for Jeonghan to find you? He approached the last place on his list for today, night having already fallen upon him. Maybe he'd change places with you, and have you running around looking for him. He'd try to pick somewhere more niche, though, just to make it easier on you. Jeonghan tucked his hands into his jacket pocket, staring down at his phone as he followed the directions to this place. It was a little out of the way, but maybe if he made it in time, he'd be able to swing by the bigger place not far from there. It closed earlier, sure, but it usually had way more foot traffic from what he could tell.
The thought that had been haunting him hit him again: would you even like him when you saw him in person? It'd been something stupid that popped into his head one Saturday a month ago, but it still shook him a little more than he expected. He'd seen you in so, so many dreams; he'd been with you, dating you, and yet it felt like there was a degree of separation. Those were his dreams with you, this was the real world where other people would get in the way. Where he couldn't just go to that cafe in your hometown with you, giggling about a silly joke one of you cracked, without having to travel to get there. He'd confessed his fears to Joshua once day, and Joshua had just stared at him.
"But you're in love with them."
"I know, but what if they don't love me once they see me?" Jeonghan had been curled up on Joshua's couch that night, a blanket draped around him. He toyed with the edge of it, fingers curling around the plush material. "It's different, I think."
Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god. You're so stupid."
"Hey--"
"Jeonghan." Joshua turned, entirely serious as he leaned in, "They love you, dumbass. I know your dreams are magical or whatever, but they still like being with you. You told me they trust you enough to cry on you and tell you about how bad work was, or about friend troubles, or enough to just say they need to cry because of stress. If things change when they see you, they weren't really in love with you. Dreams are whatever--you're still you."
Jeonghan had said nothing at first, letting the words sink in. Then when he looked up, he saw Joshua looking off into the distance, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "They're singing, aren't they?"
Joshua cracked a smile. Jeonghan knew him well enough. "It's quiet," he said, "but... Yeah. They are."
Jeonghan knew that while Joshua was the one who sang more often in his relationship, he truly loved whenever his soulmate would sing. He knew that Joshua had told them that, and they chose to indulge him in it a little more often. Jeonghan should take a video or a picture of this and send it to them: you broke your soulmate, btw, come get him. Then again... Joshua definitely had ammunition of his own. Videos of times where Jeonghan had woken up in a pleasant mood because he'd gone on a date with you yet again, always ending with Joshua telling the camera that he was ready for the two of you to meet already.
At the end of the street on the left. Jeonghan had begun to hurry at this point, already feeling his heart sinking in his chest. No. No, no, no, fuck--The lights were out, and no one was inside despite the website saying that this place stayed open for another two hours. There had been a piece of paper taped up on a window that said something about one of the coffee machines breaking down and causing a big enough mess that they'd have to close for the night. Shit. What if this had been the one? What if you were inside when the coffee machine broke, spraying hot coffee everywhere? What if you had been burned? Jeonghan wanted to kick himself for not getting here sooner, but he looked at the other shop that closed in less than ten minutes. Fuck. Next Saturday for sure. Maybe that would be the one.
He did what he always did. He called Joshua, and told him that, yet again, he had failed to find you.
"Aw. I'm sorry, dude," Joshua had said. "Are you sure you don't want us to help out?"
Before Jeonghan could respond, Seungcheol had spoken up, "We will! Just tell us where to go, and we'll find them. There's too many places for you to do it on your own. Stop being stubborn about this."
Jeonghan chuckled softly, glad that he had friends who cared so deeply about him. "No, it's fine. We'll find each other soon. I can feel it. We'll talk about it tonight and see if they can give me any details."
Of course, you hadn't before. Whatever was keeping the two of you from finding each other made sure of that. But they didn't need to know how many failed attempts Jeonghan had made at this point.
"Are you sure?" Seungcheol sighed. "I just don't want you to feel like you need to do this alone. We're all here for you. If you say the word to Seungkwan--"
Another warm chuckle. "He'll storm every shop himself," Jeonghan said. "That's why I haven't told anyone else yet. You know Mingyu would go out searching without telling any of us."
"You sound exhausted," Joshua spoke up after a moment. "Want one of us to pick you up?"
"I'll just take the bus. I think I'll plan my next move during the ride." Jeonghan tucked his other hand back into his pocket. He needed the time to lick his wounds and pick himself back up, too. "Maybe... I'll figure out a new plan."
"Just call me if you change your mind," Seungcheol said. "Get home safely."
"I will," Jeonghan said, and ended the call. He shoved his phone into his pocket, and let out a sigh.
Okay. Another failed Saturday. Jeonghan wouldn't lose hope, though: he'd find you soon enough. It wouldn't be as soon as he planned, but he would find you, and he would kiss you, and he'd never let anything tear the two of you apart like this ever again. Even with work trips and vacations and whatnot, Jeonghan would be happy to see your face again outside of his dreams.
The bus had slowed to a stop, and Jeonghan climbed on before taking a seat near the back. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by once the bus had lurched forward again. If the two of you could pick something less common, maybe you'd find one another sooner. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by as his eyelids began to droop. Next Saturday. He hugged himself tighter. Next Saturday would be the day. He had to find you then. Or maybe it was time to let his friends help him find you. What was the point of being stubborn about it all when he was taking away days he could be falling in love with you all over again?
"Hello...?"
He must have dozed off on the bus again, the sound of your voice making him open his eyes.
"Hey, sorry to bother you, but when's your stop?"
You must have been teasing him again. "Wherever you want it to be," he said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they always do. It was always easy to say such things to you. He looked up, and pauses, mind fuzzy for a moment. "Sorry, I thought you were my..."
And then it's clear. There you stood in front of him, one hand gripping the seat next to him and the other on the one in front of it. Your eyes widened as realization hit you, and Jeonghan was already rising out of his seat. The bus driver yelled something back at the two of you, but Jeonghan wasn't listening. And it seemed like you weren't, either.
"Good morning, Hannie," you teased lightly, already smiling at him.
Jeonghan only leaned in, thrilled that you closed the distance between the two of you. He cupped your face in his hands, nose brushing against yours as he tasted something sweet on your lips. Tea, he thought, or maybe some sort of dessert involving matcha or something. Your body was warm underneath his touch and so much more real than he'd ever dreamed of. But what about you? Did he live up to your dreams?
"I love you," he said softly when he drew back. Emotions surged in his chest: relief, joy, love. The freedom of no longer having to search for you crashed over him in waves, and he felt himself tear up. He roughly wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffling as he tried to hold back now. This wasn't how he wanted either of you to remember your first meeting, with him about to sob.
Yet all it took was seeing you cry for him to break, pulling you into his arms as he held you tight. The bus driver yelled back again, and he just reached back frantically, pressing the button to signal for the two of you to get off as soon as you could. And he left with you, hand in hand, as the two of you stepped out underneath the stars, already falling in love with one another all over again.
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taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny
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intoanothermind · 7 days
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thoughts louder than words
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pairing: non-idol!mingyu x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 7/13
word count: ~2.0k
warnings: some slight negative feelings and experiences with gyu trying to find his soulmate.
daisy’s notes: sorry for another short one!! i feel bad not posting this sooner since it’s been a month since i even started this one :(
summary: Mingyu has the words “God, he’s so loud…” written across his bicep, and frankly, he isn’t surprised. Despite all the teasing it nets him from his friends, it’s a sure sign that his soulmate is out there. And admittedly… it does lead him to stay loud if it means he’s always one step closer to finding you.
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Mingyu considered his soulmate mark… pretty damn average. Words in some form were pretty common, whether it be a name or a date or a first sentence or a first thought–although those two tend to be a lot more muddled. When he turned ten, he watched as words inked themselves onto his bicep: “God, he’s so loud…” 
Truly, not the thing he’d want to hear at age ten.
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intoanothermind · 7 days
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to dye for
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pairing: non-idol!woozi x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 4/13
word count: 2.4k
warnings: small bit of angst over jihoon thinking he doesn’t have a soulmate. jihoon gets kinda yelled at for dyeing his hair. 
daisy’s notes: ok ignore the fact im posting this not even a full day later and also the fact the ending is bad!! a girl is trying rn.
summary: Jihoon doesn’t have a soulmate. He’s positive. He’s never shown the signs before. And yet one lost bet against Soonyoung results in dyed hair and a surprise the next morning…
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For a really long time, Jihoon had been positive he didn’t have a soulmate. His parents had comforted him over it (which, at age ten, made him feel… weird. Lost. Like he was broken). It felt weirder when he grew up, listening to classmates talk about their signs. Weirder in college, where he watched people run into their soulmates or make an active effort in finding them. And maybe it started to stop feeling so bad when he met his current circle of friends, who, despite their initial efforts, began to let him cope with his feelings as he needed to: through his music.
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intoanothermind · 7 days
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songbird
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pairing: non-idol!joshua x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 5/13
word count: 2.8k~
warnings: reader slightly angry in jihoon’s DMs. mentions of joshua getting inappropriate DMs (please don’t be a creep in anyone’s DMs). very slight angst over first impressions and potential soulmate relationships.
daisy’s notes: i know i am in the minority of being okay with hearing shua sing sunday morning every single day. i am ok w this. when he said its a masterpiece i felt that.
summary: Joshua knows his soulmate is somewhere. He’s heard them sing before, and he knows they’ve heard him sing before. Maybe that’s why he takes Jihoon up on his offer to produce a song to post online. He just hopes that his soulmate starts to look up the lyrics sooner or later…
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When Joshua found out his soulmate sign was being able to hear his soulmate when they sang, things felt right. Maybe it’d be a little more fitting for someone like Jihoon, but Joshua felt lucky nonetheless. He liked singing, even if he could never find out your name or your location or anything that could guide him directly to you. He grew up singing, sometimes in church, and he felt a little guilty that you had to put up with all of it. But he’d never forget the way he was singing in church one day, only to hear a pop song on the radio hours later. A sign you were out there. He had run off to tell his family immediately, and it only made him want to pursue music even more–if he could. He was young. Sometimes dreams just stayed dreams. He passed up following music as a career when he got a little older, keeping it as a hobby. He worked to support himself in college from the day he moved out, passing up invitations to join his friends at music festivals and concerts in order to pick up extra hours. Even if he gave up trying for a career, he held onto it as a hobby. He’d sit in his apartment sometimes and just play, singing along to songs he wrote or pop songs he learned unless you sang back to shut up because you needed the quiet. He never took it personally: he understood people needed silence to work. He did, too, sometimes. He’d always laugh whenever he heard your stilted, annoyed singing to get him to shut up, and he’d sing back his little apology. He hoped that made you laugh, or at least soothed any tension that might be growing between the two of you.
He just hoped that you used all of it as a reminder that he was still out there. Sometimes that’s what his singing was meant to be. When he could afford to just sit back, eyes shut and listen to you sing along to songs you liked, he loved to. It was a reminder you were there. Occasionally he could hear you singing along to the same sad songs Joshua assumed were a part of a sad playlist you’d made. He looked up lyrics and learned them so that he could sing along, too. Just so you knew that he was still there with you and that he cared.
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intoanothermind · 7 days
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lost & found
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pairing: non-idol!vernon x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 6/13
word count: 2.1k
 warnings: reader has a cat. lost cat happens twice. two idiots keep losing things. food mention. slight mention about being anxious about soulmates (but it’s less vernon and more other people in his life). 
daisy’s notes: idk why but this one felt like a cute one for vern. also me being a messy bitch too i’d probs miss things too lmao (also sorry this ones kinda short!! i knew what i wanted to do with it and didn’t want to draw it out too long)
summary: Sometimes Vernon finds things in his room that are definitely not his. Most of the time he attributes them to Seungkwan, but when he loses a flash-drive with all his music and classwork… it’s just a coincidence it ends up in his classmate’s bag, right?
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Vernon’s… admittedly more okay with the fact he doesn’t have a soulmate. He never felt anyone’s pain growing up, or heard someone singing, and all of his colors in his vision are completely intact. He didn’t have a name written on him like his parents did, or tasted whatever his soulmate would be eating, or have a date and time printed on his wrist like his sister did–ten more years before she met them, and he’d listened to her time and time again vent about how sometimes she’d look at it and realize how close it actually is in the scheme of things. He grew up listening to the gentle comfort toward him despite the indifference he’d grown into. It bothered him at first, sure, but in the end… What was the point of having a soulmate? Did people really think that finding that person would result in immediate love and marriage and babies or some shit? Vernon wanted to fall in love more… organically. Not with a person the universe pushed him towards, linking them together by some invisible bond. As romantic as a red string sounded (even if Wonwoo’s meeting with his soulmate wasn’t exactly romantic), he wanted to be in control over his own fate. He was happy for his friends finding their soulmates one by one (hell, he liked Seungkwan’s soulmate–they didn’t take that much shit, but it was admittedly a little sweet to see Seungkwan dote on them because they bumped into another goddamn chair a little too hard), but for him? He was okay without it.
Which was why he branched out a bit. He dated a few other people without soulmates, one of which did have a soulmate but didn’t have an obvious sign, and things never fully worked out. Call it destiny, call it choice, but something always seemed to go… a little wrong. Or maybe they just didn’t work out: Vernon was never completely sure whenever he tried to look back on it. He settled for making friends with people instead after a while, not wanting the stress of relationships. That’s ultimately what brought him to you.
Or, well, your cat was.
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intoanothermind · 8 days
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a tug in the right direction
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pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 2/13
word count: 2.9k~
warnings: some anxiety about love, i guess?
daisy’s notes: believe me when i say i tried to make this one longer. im 99% sure seungkwans only ended up being as long as it did was because of the groundwork i was laying there :(
summary: Wonwoo has had the little string around his pinkie for most of his life at this point. Sometimes he feels his soulmate tugging. Sometimes he tugs back. Sometimes he can even feel the string grow tighter when his soulmate is near…
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There was a little string tied neatly with a bow around Wonwoo’s left pinkie. He remembered turning ten and watching the way it seemed to stretch out of nowhere, looping around his pinkie like magic. It looped around once, twice, and then a third time before tying itself into a little bow. When he had tried to show his parents, they had gently told him that they couldn’t see it. That his string was a part of him and his soulmate and would link the two of them until they met. He remembered lying in bed that night, trying to urge himself to get some sleep so he could properly celebrate his birthday with his family when he woke up. But instead he reached up, gently taking the pale strand between his right hand’s fingers, and tugged.
And he felt nothing back. He asked his mom about it when he woke up, and she had told him that maybe you’d been asleep. Maybe you hadn’t turned ten yet, or maybe you had just missed it. You could feel it, though, and maybe one day you’d tug back, just to tell him he was there. Every so often, Wonwoo would reach up and tug at the string. It was a “hello,” to you, or maybe a “I’m here,” to be more exact. Just his little way of letting you know that he was there on the other end after all.
He’d never know whether it was you turning ten, or you finally noticing the occasional tugs on your string, but he felt you tug back almost a year later. He had been playing games with his brother, and he ended up losing when he gasped, beaming at the newfound feeling. His brother had teased him over it, and Wonwoo had gone back to playing with him, but he was happy knowing that you were out there. He’d managed to tug back, too, while they were starting a new game. A sign to you that he heard you, loud and clear.
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intoanothermind · 9 days
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accident prone - extended release
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pairing: non-idol!seungkwan x gn!reader
prompt: soulmate au series. 1/13
word count: 4.5k~
warnings: many mention of injuries/blood. reader is a clumsy person. some allusions to potential bullying/abuse from a very worried seungkwan. 
daisy’s notes: read the original accident prone here. an expanded part one for a series of soulmate au fics.
summary: Boo Seungkwan has lived feeling someone else’s pain for over ten years. To be fair, they feel his, too: but he can’t help but worry… Is his soulmate okay?
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When Seungkwan turned ten, he didn’t know if you existed. He had cried to his mom, actually, convinced that you weren’t actually out there and that he’d be one of the low percentage of people without any soulmate. She had held him, wiped his tears, and told him that she was the same when she was his age. Not all signs show up immediately, and he should be patient: if his soulmate is out there, he’ll know one day. And if he didn’t have one, that didn’t make him worth any less. His mom had kissed him on the forehead and told him that soulmate or no, he was loved and would be loved in the future because he was her sweet boy and anyone would be lucky to love him. When Seungkwan looked back at it, it warmed his heart a lot: he loved his mom for a reason, and her comfort in that moment had meant a lot.
Even if he ended up crying a few nights later because his ankle hurt even though he’d done nothing to it. His parents had taken him to the doctor then, they had taken an x-ray, and two days later he was sitting there in an empty room as his parents spoke to the doctor outside. His ankle had stopped hurting, thankfully, but he could feel a pulsing pain in his shoulder like he’d run into a door. The night before, he felt the sting of a skinned knee despite not doing anything.
The doctor came back into the room with his parents. Seungkwan sat in his mom’s lap, watching as the doctor pulled out a roll of stickers from a cabinet and offered up a bowl of lollipops, his mom’s arms locked around his middle to keep him in place. He’d been wary at first–this was the exact same way people gave him his shots over the years. But the doctor had nothing to hide, and merely smiled at him.
“Seungkwan,” she said, voice gentle as Seungkwan stuck a strawberry-flavored sucker into his mouth, “you have a soulmate.”
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intoanothermind · 10 days
Text
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pairing: wonwoo x reader word count: 2.3k warnings: a couple of swears, kissing
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Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.
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idk by jeffrey lenh, joanna
i think that i’ve been falling ever since that day out in the park and i don’t know if this is love, but maybe this could be the start
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“I guess this isn’t so bad.”
You open one eye, looking up at Wonwoo from where you’re laying in the grass. His back is resting against a tree, and you watch as the breeze catches a few strands of his hair. It makes you smile, how calm and content he looks.
”I won’t say I told you so, but…”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth is turned up in a smile. Your eyes don’t leave him as he pushes his glasses up with a finger, his eyes taking in the surrounding park. You like seeing him like this. You’ve managed to drag him out of his dorm room on the first warm, sunny day of the year, and you’re glad he came. You’re always glad when he’s with you, but seeing him bask in the first golden glow of spring is something else.
“You just didn’t want to do this alone, and I was your last resort.”
You tsk, closing your eyes again, letting the warmth of the sun wash over your face. “That’s not true. You’re not my last resort, you’re my charity case. Helping the old man get out of his house and all that.” 
Wonwoo gasps dramatically, and you can’t help the giggle that leaves you at the sound. The two of you fall back into contented silence, the only sounds around you coming from the wind in the trees and some children playing across the field. 
“Seriously,” he speaks up again a few minutes later. “Thanks for forcing me to get off of my computer and outside for a bit. It’s a nice reminder that since winter is finally over, I can take a break from writing essays and gaming inside. So, thanks.”
You’re beaming up at him, even as he avoids your eyes after his little speech, but you know he knows you’re looking. “Glad you’re here,” is all you say. When he sends a smile your way, you know you’ve said the right thing.
You’re so warm — inside and out — that you can’t help but doze off. It’s a little while later when you stir, your eyes fluttering open as you come to. You startle when you realize that you must have nuzzled into the warmth of Wonwoo’s thigh while you slept, and you wince. Then your next thought has you realizing something even worse: his hand is gently resting on your head, and his thumb is brushing soothing circles into your scalp. 
Your breath catches. It feels so intimate, and you know that you absolutely cannot succumb to how you’re feeling, because it’s Wonwoo, and Wonwoo definitely, absolutely, 100% does not like you back. 
You make a show of stretching your toes, and as you predicted, Wonwoo’s movements stop. He drops his hand as you roll onto your back, and you try desperately to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Sorry I fell asleep,” you say, and Wonwoo shrugs, lifting a hand to run through his hair. 
“It’s all good.”
And that’s that.
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You watch as Wonwoo games from your spot on his bed, his fingers clicking so fast it makes your head spin. You’re supposed to go out for something to eat soon, but he’d begged you to let him finish one more game. You’d pouted, but you don’t really mind waiting. 
You flop down on his bed, arms falling dramatically out to your sides. It’s been a long few weeks as you and your friends prep for your final papers and exams. The only time you’ve been able to see anyone is when you eat together, and Wonwoo is no exception. It’s been a week or so since you saw him last, and you wish the sight of him would stop making you feel the way it does. That doesn’t seem likely anytime soon, considering that when he’d opened the door tonight, his greeting smile alone had rendered you breathless. Lately, you’re more excited to see Wonwoo than a kid in a candy store, and you’re not sure what you're supposed to do about it.
Because Wonwoo doesn’t like you like that.
“Alright, GamerGirl17. I’m out. Good game.”
Your ears perk up at the username. GamerGirl17. You hear about her from Wonwoo all the time. Apparently, he’s made friends with one of the top players in his favourite game. You can’t believe you’re jealous of an online friend, but you happen to know through Wonwoo that she only lives a couple of hours away. Maybe they were dating already and Wonwoo just hadn’t told anyone? 
Wonwoo regales you with the mission the two of them had just completed as you walk to the restaurant, explaining why it had been so important to finish. You’re not a gamer yourself, but Wonwoo always listens to you talk about your niche hobbies, so you’re always willing to listen to him. 
Except today, apparently, because for some reason you’re more irritated than usual about the topic of Miss Gamer Girl. 
“Have you asked her out?” 
You interrupt Wonwoo mid-speech. You don’t look at him as you ask, but you can tell he’s surprised by the way he stumbles a bit, catching himself before he trips into a garden of freshly blooming flowers. 
“Huh? Who?”
You glance at him as you near the burger place. “GamerGirl17.”
Wonwoo’s footsteps slow, and you raise your eyebrows at him. He doesn’t say anything else for a minute as you enter the restaurant. It isn’t until you’ve sat down and ordered drinks that he answers you, and you clench your fists in an attempt to stay calm.
“I’m not going to ask her out,” Wonwoo says, and you meet his gaze. He looks embarrassed to say it.
“Why? You like her, no?”
Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes a bit. He looks down and away from you, suddenly finding something on his empty plate far more interesting. “Um,” he tries again, “I’m not really interested in… in dating anyone right now, I guess?” 
Your heart sinks as you try to decide if that’s better or worse for you. You think worse.
Ouch.
”Oh,” you reply with a slow nod. You clear your throat. “That’s cool, then. I just wasn’t sure, that’s all.”
Your food arrives soon after, and you try to push past the awkward conversation by asking for pictures of Wonwoo’s parents’ new puppy. It works to distract him, but you don’t forget his comment. 
I’m not interested in anyone right now.
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“I’m sorry for the last minute notice,” you offer as you wait by Wonwoo’s door. “I didn’t know I left it here.”
He hums in acknowledgement as he grabs your cardigan from the back of his chair. “It’s all good.” 
You try to ignore the once over he gives you as he hands you the sweater. You’re dressed up, and you feel a bit embarrassed under his gaze, though you’re not sure why. “Thanks.”
“Where…” Wonwoo trails off, and you watch as he leans against the doorframe. He’s gathering his thoughts, and you hate that he’s got you feeling nervous for no reason, even now when you’re about to go on your first date in months. You know you look nice dressed up in your cute flower pattern outfit for spring, but you feel so shy when he looks at you. “Where are you going?” 
“Um,” you clear your throat, “Kwan set me up on a date with a friend of his.”
Wonwoo’s eyes widen, and he straightens. You wish you could disappear into the floor. “Oh.”
”Yeah.” Your cheeks are on fire. You need to leave, now. You pretend to glance at your phone as you say, “I should probably get going.” You hold up the cardigan. “Thanks for the missing piece of my outfit.” 
As you turn to leave, your eyes squeeze shut briefly. It hurts to know he doesn’t want you in the same way, but you think you’ve just officially confirmed it. You inhale a shaky breath, willing the tears to remain at bay as you descend the stairs to the lobby. 
You’ve almost reached the front door when you hear footsteps rapidly approaching behind you, and you turn in surprise. Your heart jumps into your throat when you realize it’s Wonwoo, barefoot and out of breath.
“Wonwoo, what—“
“Don’t go.”
You pause. “What?”
“Don’t go,” he repeats, and you’re confused. He can’t mean what you think he means, not after all this time. Your lip starts to tremble. 
He seems to notice, a hand lifting in your direction as he takes a step closer, and your breath catches. He doesn’t touch you, though, just looks at you for a moment, mouth opening and closing. Then he quickly glances around the room. The only other people around are the Resident Assistant at his desk and a couple of other students walking in and out of the building. After a second, Wonwoo gently takes you by the elbow and around the corner so you’re tucked away, and he’s suddenly so close that you can’t breathe. 
“When I said I didn’t want to date anyone right now, I meant anyone else. Other people.” His words are jumbled and rushed, and your eyebrows knit together.
Your back slumps to rest against the wall behind you. He’s not making sense, but you have a feeling in your stomach, and you can’t believe what you think is happening here. You can’t. “Wonwoo,” you say quietly, voice trembling, “You need to be super clear with me right now, because I can’t…”
You trail off, and Wonwoo steps even closer. The proximity causes you to straighten, every single part of you on edge. You still don’t know if it’s good or bad.
His eyes search yours. Then he speaks, voice so soft and sure that you think it surprises even him. “I meant that I don’t want to date anyone other than you.”
Your mouth falls open. You search his face, desperately trying to comprehend what he’s just said. You can tell he’s nervous, and your immediate instinct would usually be to comfort him, but right now, you can’t think. You can’t breathe. When you don’t say anything, he takes a step back. 
“I’m sorry. You can go on your date, I just… I needed you to know—“
“Wonwoo.” It comes out strangled, but you had to say something. Anything to stop him from leaving. He stops, and all you can do is shake your head in disbelief. He gives you a moment, his gaze falling to the floor, but you can’t look away from him. “If you mean that,” you say slowly, “then I’m not going anywhere.”
Wonwoo blinks back at you. It’s almost comical, how wide his eyes have gotten behind his glasses. The way you can practically see him buffering. 
“You’re not?” He finally says, and you can hear the relief in his voice. It makes your heart ache a little, because how can he not know how you feel? You shake your head. 
“Unless you have other plans.” Your voice is shy, uncertain, but he’s quick to quell your fears.
“No,” he says, firm. “I’m all yours.” 
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The second the door to his room closes, you’re in his arms. You’re feeling so unbelievably shy at all these new revelations, and you can tell he is, too. He stumbles a bit when you wrap your arms around his waist, face pressed to his chest, but he’s quick to respond. His arms pull you in tight as he laughs, and you can feel it against your cheek. 
You don’t remember the last time you felt this nervous. 
“Wonwoo?”
He hums, and you gather enough courage to pull back and look up at him. When your eyes meet, you have to resist the urge to hide your face from him again. He looks so fond. So happy.
You don’t know what you were going to say as your gaze falls to his mouth. You watch as he swallows, his fingers gently squeezing where they rest on your waist in an attempt to help you refocus, but it’s a lost cause. 
“You’d think I’ve never kissed anyone before with how nervous I am right now.”
The words are out before you can stop them, and you’re absolutely mortified. Your hands immediately lift to cover your face. A few seconds of silence pass, and then you realize that Wonwoo is laughing. 
“Oh, is that what we’re about to do? Kiss?” 
You freeze. Is he… teasing you?
“What happened to shy Wonwoo from before? Bring him back,” you whine, hands falling from your face to send him a glare. 
“He knows you like him back now, so he’s a bit more confident.” He’s grinning, and you pout. He quirks an eyebrow, one hand lifting to your jaw as he adds, “He knows now that he makes you nervous.”
You would be absolutely scandalized by his words if it weren’t for what happens next. Because suddenly he’s kissing you, and all bets are off. 
It’s not much, just a soft press of his mouth to yours, but it’s enough. 
“For the record,” Wonwoo says as he pulls away, and you vaguely register the flush of his cheeks under the dim lamplight, “you make me nervous as hell, too.”
“For the record,” you smile, “I don’t want to go on a date with anyone that’s not you, either.”
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A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on pov! Here’s the second of our Thirteen Valentines. I can only see Nana Tour Glasses!Wonwoo, all the time.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars @darkypooo @christinewithluv
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intoanothermind · 10 days
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Practice Makes Perfect (A/F) :: k.sm
Synopsis: A night at dance practice ends wrong for both you and Seungmin.
Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Fem!Reader
Word Count: ~4k
Genre: Angst with a fluffy ending. Idiots to Lovers.
Warnings: Slight yelling, crying, Softie Seungmin, hurt MC, hurt Seungmin.
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You and Seungmin had been friends for years, but when he first started training to become an Idol, you guys lost contact for a little while. Then not too long before the survival show started, you had bumped into him at a convenience store one night and it felt like no time had passed at all, while you caught up over some food the next day- at his persistent insistence.
That little reunion also sparked the tiny crush you had found yourself harboring for your friend, from years before, that you’ve now been keeping to yourself in the years since the group’s debut.
He was busy a lot, and you knew that was something that you were going to have to learn to deal with and accept, being his friend, especially as time went on and the group became more and more popular. So you tended to hang out the most, late at night when he finished his schedules, or he’d call you and beg you to come to the company to spend some time with him while he practiced on your days off.
Which is currently where you found yourself- sitting with your back pressed up against the floor to ceiling mirror in one of the many practice rooms throughout the building, watching the incredibly focused faces of Stray Kids, while they ran through a dance practice over and over again, trying to make sure everything was perfect.
Every so often, you’d look up from your book, your eyes flitting from face to face as they moved here and there, fixing and adjusting the moves before you’d land on Seungmin’s slightly flushed face, taking in all the little details you already had memorized in your brain. Some time’s he’d catch you looking at him, and his focused façade would fall just enough for him to make a face at you, before he tuned back into whatever it was one of the guys was saying and you’d return to your book.
You’d been so engrossed in your book finally though, that you didn’t notice when Felix dropped to the ground next to you, and you jumped slightly when he nudged your side.
“Good book?” He chuckled softly.
You let out a deep breath, trying to calm down your fast beating heart as you marked your place and shut the book. “Yeah, I wouldn’t read it otherwise, silly.” You joked.
He playfully rolled his eyes, taking the book from your lap and reading the title before giving you a look, “I think Seungmin has this book, too.”
You nodded slowly, “That’s because that is his book.” You told him, taking it back and dropping it into your lap again, “He told me that he thought I’d like it, so he’s letting me borrow it.”
Felix hummed, making a face at you, “And that jacket sure looks familiar, too.” He wiggled his eyebrow, gently tugging on the corner of the jacket adorning your body.
You tried to hide the blush rising on your cheeks as you rolled your eyes, “I was cold when I first got here. He’ll demand it back before we leave.”
Felix scoffed, looking across the room to where Seungmin was playfully arguing with Changbin about something again, “Bet you a cup of coffee he doesn’t.”
You pulled your eyes from Seungmin’s laughing face to Felix’s smirking one, “I already bought you coffee today.”
“And I thanked you for it!” He laughed.
You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head softly. “I always give his jackets back before I leave, anyway, so you’re wasting a bet.”
He shrugged, watching Seungmin finally making his way towards you both. “Humor me,” He mumbled to you before Seungmin got too close.
You scoffed a small laugh but shook your head, “Not tonight, Lix.”
Seungmin sighed heavily as he dropped down next to your other side, leaning his head back against the mirror.
“You did good, Min.” You smiled, nudging his shoulder with yours.
He hummed softly, “Bet you told Felix the same thing.”
“She didn’t, actually. Hasn’t mentioned anything about my dancing today.” Felix playfully grumbled from your other side, crossing his arms with a cute little pout. “Or anyone else’s.”
Seungmin picked his head up, looking from Felix to you, “Just me?”
You nodded, “Just you.”
A smile easily broke out on his lips, “How good did I do, then?”
You shoved his shoulder, letting out a soft giggle, “I give you one compliment and it goes straight to that big head of yours, huh?” You joked.
He pushed you back, laughing, “You never compliment me! I’ve got to try to get what I can out of you.”
You gasped, faking a hurt look, “I compliment you all the time, Kim Seungmin! How dare you.”
He rolled his eyes, and made the same face he always did before he was going to mock you, “ ‘Hey, Seungmin, that verse didn’t suck the third time.’ Isn’t a compliment, Y/n.”
You looked at him, “I have never told you a verse sucked. That was Minho!”
In the far corner of the practice room, Minho’s laugh echoed as you pointed at him. “Yeah, that was me, Seungminnie. She’d never say something like that to you. To me, yes, to you- never.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, watching Seungmin look from Minho back to you. “I’d never tell any of you that a verse you did sucks.”
“Yeah, she’s too nice.” Han piped up from the center of the floor. “She’s never said one mean thing to any of us.”
“That’s not true,” Changbin shook his head, a wide grin on his face as he met your eyes. “She’s been mean to me before.”
“You deserved it.” You shot at him, no real venom in your voice. “You were mean to me first.”
“All I said was that you’re clumsy!”
“And that was mean!”
“You are clumsy.” Seungmin looked at you. “You almost fell getting out of the elevator when you got here earlier.” He added, “If I hadn’t caught you, you would’ve.”
Han started laughing, sitting up enough to look at both of you. “Wow, Y/n, you finally fell for him, huh?” He joked, making the boys all laugh.
You felt you cheeks warming again and moved enough to push yourself from the floor, “Shut up, Han.” You mumbled, looking back at Seungmin, “Are you done for the night? You know that I have class in the morning, so I don’t want to stay up too late tonight and I’m excited about our movie night.”
Seungmin looked up at you, a guilty look over taking his features as the rest of the guys went back to their own conversations, all of them gathering their things to leave the room for the night. “I, uhm, forgot that I have vocal practice tonight.”
Your shoulders dropped just as the door shut behind the last of the boys, leaving you and Seungmin alone in the dance studio, “You told me you only had dance practice today.”
“I know,” He pushed himself from the floor, “I know, I’m sorry. I forgot it got scheduled at last minute.”
You sighed, reaching for your bag on the ground where you’d been sitting, dropping Seungmin’s jacket onto the rest of his things. “Then why did I come here tonight? I would’ve just stayed home to study more if I’d known, Seungmin.” You told him, heading for the door.
“Because I still wanted to hang out with you.” He said, quickly moving in front of you to stop you from going any further.
“By hang out did you mean, me sitting on the floor while you practiced again?” You questioned; a slightly irritated tone laced through the words.
“You’ve never had a problem with that before.” He shot back, taking the same tone you had. “What’s the problem now?”
“Because we always left and went to do something else when you were done!” You argued, “I’m either here for dance practice or vocal practice! When was the last time you asked me to come have lunch with you?” You asked, staring up at him. “I’ll tell you- it’s been months, Seungmin. And it’s been weeks since we’ve done a movie night, too."
“You knew this was what my life is like from the moment we started hanging out again!” He said, his voice raised enough that it made you take a step back.
He’s never yelled at you before. Neither of you have ever yelled at the other.
“I have vocal practices and dance practices, and schedules that I have to follow,” He continued, his voice still raised. “This is my job, Y/n. I don’t come to your job and complain that you have things you have to do, do I? No, because I understand you get busy.”
You could feel your eyes stinging as the tears began to well up, before you stepped around him and started heading for the door again, “You don’t come to my job at all, Seungmin, because you can’t. And I have never once complained about that, or that you get busy.” Your voice wavered as you pulled the door open. “Next time, don’t ask me to come here, when you know you don’t have time for me. I’d hate to interfere with your schedules anymore than I already do.”
He faltered at the hurt in your voice, blinking a couple times as he watched you go, the words he wanted were stuck in his throat as he watched you walk out of the studio, the door shutting loudly behind you.
He stared at the door for another few seconds, half expecting you to come back through them, apologizing for getting so upset- because that's what you’ve always done, even when you being upset was entirely justifiable- like tonight.
When the door opened, Seungmin felt himself relax slightly, thinking it was really you, only for his shoulders to drop at the sight of Han instead.
Han gave him a weird look, “Hey, I know it’s only been like 15 minutes, but you don’t have to look so upset about seeing me again.” He tried to joke, looking around the room slightly. “Where’s Y/n? Thought you guys were doing a movie night tonight.”
Seungmin felt himself deflating even more, “She left.” He mumbled, grabbing his things from the floor next to where you’d been sitting, and heading for the door.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Han grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from getting any further out the door. “Why’d she leave?”
“Because she’s mad at me.” Seungmin told him, brushing his hand off. “I forgot I have vocal practice in a half hour and because I forgot, I didn’t tell her about it, even though I’ve known about it all day.”
“I thought she liked sitting in on your vocal practice?”
Seungmin sighed deeply, finally looking back at Han and shrugged slightly, “So did I, but I guess not.”
Han frowned, “What did she say?”
He sighed again, moving away from Han and starting down the hall, “Enough.”
The rest of Seungmin’s night went slowly- almost crawling by. He went to his vocal practice but got sent home barely an hour in because his teacher could see he was distracted, and by the time he got back to the dorm, he wanted nothing more than to go to bed.
Your night, however, went completely differently than you’d been expecting it to go. The second you got out of the building, you realized that it was raining, and raining hard. You stood there for a moment, staring up at the sky like you could glare at the rain enough to stop it from falling.
After another long moment, you figured you were already wet, so there was no point in rushing home, or even in calling for a ride, so you trudged your way home, wiping your eyes every so often and trying to convince yourself it was just to get the rain out of them and not the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since you stepped out of the dance studio.
By the time you’d gotten back to your little apartment, you were well and truly soaked from the rain. Your roommate had been staying at her boyfriend’s a lot more lately, so you weren’t surprised when you walked into an empty apartment. You slowly made your way through your place and straight for your bathroom to take a hot shower, in an attempt to warm yourself up and to hopefully make you feel a little better before you went to bed.
You did everything you could to not think about what had happened in the dance studio, or about Seungmin, but you couldn’t help but feel hurt at how things had played out. You’d never expected Seungmin to yell at you, much less for him to have even let you leave when you were that upset. It was something completely unlike him and you knew that was part of the reason you were so upset.
Over the years, you and Seungmin had petty, little fights, or arguments, but nothing like tonight. It was unheard of for either of you to have gone this long without calling the other after a fight to apologize, too. After you’d gotten out of the shower and had changed, you’d pulled your phone out of your bag and when you realized that it had died, you hesitated in even going to plug it in because you didn’t want it to turn back on, and for there to be messages or missed calls from him, because you didn’t want to talk to him right now.
Except that you actually did. But you were mad at him, too. But you wanted him to come over, so you guys could talk things out, and for everything to be normal, and like it usually is. You hated it when you guys had even the small fights that you worked out only minutes later.
This was killing you.
And it didn’t get any better for the next few days, when neither of you reached out to the other.
It wasn’t any better for Seungmin either, though. He’d spent the few days constantly looking at his phone, your contact pulled up, like he was waiting for it to magically ring and be you, or that the phone would just call you on its own, for him. Neither happened, of course.
He went through his days the rest of the week, like he was half awake for everything. It was difficult for him to focus during any practices, and it got to the point that all the boys were beginning to worry about him and his well-being.
Finally, after 4 days of watching him act like a zombie, Felix and Han hatched a plan to get the two of you to work things out.
Felix texted you, asking if you wanted to come get coffee with him and Han at the company. When you’d finally answered him, saying you didn’t know if you wanted to even see Seungmin yet, he’d told you that Seungmin wasn’t even on property that day, so there was no chance you’d see him.
He’d gone so far as to call you, with Han right there to also reassure you that Seungmin and Changbin had both had off property schedules today and they wouldn’t be done until late into the night. You’d eventually agreed, but mostly because they both kept begging you to come see them.
You knew that all of them had some idea of what happened between you and Seungmin that night, because you’d passed Felix and Minho when you were leaving, and when they noticed you were crying, they’d only managed to get a few words from you.
“Seungmin….. Fight….. Let me leave.”
You loved the guys, but you knew that they couldn’t keep secrets amongst each other to save their lives.
And that was also why you currently found yourself in the dance studio again, staring wide-eyed at the man himself.
“Felix, let me out of the room. Now.” You demanded, spinning around to face the freckled boy.
Felix shook his head, “I’m sorry, Y/n, but that’s not happening. You guys are staying in here until you talk whatever this thing is, out.”
You sent him a stiff glare, that shifted to Han when he shuffled slightly behind Felix. “You both lied to me and now you’re going to essentially hold me hostage?” You questioned slowly, “I don’t have time for this, guys! Just let me leave.”
“Don’t you want to fix things?” Han asked softly.
You hesitated in answering, and when you opened your mouth, the words didn’t come from you.
“I do.” Seungmin mumbled quietly from behind you.
You slowly turned to look at him, a tense air settling between you both are you sighed. “Fine, but you two are leaving.” You said, turning to look back at Felix and Han.
Han scoffed playfully, “Like we were going to stay for this, anyway. We were gonna lock the door so you definitely couldn’t leave.”
Your glare was back, making him shut his mouth and shuffle even further behind Felix as Felix smiled at you sweetly.
“We mean well.”
“Just leave.” You sighed, shaking your head softly, already feeling drained. “One of us will text you, if we work things out.”
“When you work things out.” Felix grinned again, pushing Han out the door. “Good luck!”
“Yeah, good luck!”
And with that, the door was shut, and you faintly heard them lock it before you finally turned back to look at Seungmin.
Silence quickly filled the room as you looked at each other. It’s been almost a week since you’d been in this room, this close to him, since you’d first thought that maybe you guys being friends wasn’t a good idea until you got your feelings for him to go away.
Slowly, he pulled his jacket off and held it out to you, giving you a soft look. “You look cold. Please take it.”
Just as slowly, you stepped close enough to grab it from him and pulled it on as silence settled once again between you.
“Are you going to say anything?” He asked softly.
“Am I supposed to?” You shot back, “You’re the one who yelled at me, not the other way around, Seungmin.”
He sighed, “I know.”
More silence stretched on for almost a minute before you sighed deeply, moving to grab your phone from your bag to tell Felix this was pointless as you moved closer to the door.
“I just wanted you here.” He said softly. “I wanted to see you. Is that so wrong?”
You stopped, your hand still wrapped around the handle, but you didn’t try to pull it open, or turn around.
“Is it?” He asked. “Because you were right, we’ve barely gotten to hang out at all lately with everything that I’ve got going on. I missed you. And I thought you missed me, too.”
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before finally turning to look at him, “No, it’s not wrong.” You admitted softly. “And I do miss you, Seungmin, but sometimes I feel like I’m bothering you when you have so much to do and I’m just here. Like I’m in the way. And it sounded like you thought so, too, especially how you yelled at me.”
“I’m sorry for how I acted that night. But you could never be in the way, Y/n. Not when I want you here, and that’s literally all the time.” He told you, crossing the floor closer to you.
“All the time?” You asked quietly, your eyes moving around his face the closer he got to you.
He stopped barely a foot in front of you, looking down at you with a nervous look in his eyes, “All the time,” He repeated, taking another step closer.
You stared up at him, both of you falling silent for the moment until he sighed quietly.
“You don’t know, do you?” He asked.
Your brow furrowed as you shook your head softly, “Know what?”
“How much I like you.” He whispered, daring another small step towards you.
Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, “You what?”
He let out a quiet, nervous chuckle. “I have feelings for you, Y/n.”
You continued to stare up at him, a million thoughts whirling through your mind as you slowly stepped closer to him, until there was no space between you. “What kind of feelings?” You whispered.
He looked down at you, his eyes roaming your face as you slowly took his hand in yours. “The kind where I think about kissing you every time you smile or laugh. The kind where I just want to be around you whenever I can. The kind where I want to hold you in my arms all the time and let you wear my clothes because they look better on you. The kind where I call you my girlfriend and not just my friend. And I’ve been going crazy the last few days not talking to you.”
He slowly trailed off, his eyes still looking into yours as you took a deep breath and smiled, “I’m smiling now, how come you’re not kissing me yet?” You joked softly, leaning towards him a little.
He scoffed out a small laugh, tightening his hand around yours as he cupped your cheek with his other hand, “I’m sorry, let me fix that.” He whispered, leaning down towards you as you leaned towards him, too.
You felt his breath barely fan across your lips before he pressed his lips to yours, tightly holding your face in his hand to keep you close. He dropped your other hand, wrapping that hand around your waist and pulling you flush against him.
His lips were soft on yours, and all those times you’d watched him put chapstick on, wishing you could just immediately kiss it right back off flashed in your mind. The daydreaming you’d done each of those times couldn’t compare to the real thing, though.
The way his lips seemed to mold perfectly against yours, the gentle yet firm way he kissed you, holding you close to him like he was worried you’d disappear the second he let go of you, the way you could feel him tightening and loosening his grip on your waist every few seconds while your lips moved against his- it was all perfect.
You threaded your fingers through his hair at the back of his head, twirling the strands even as you both slowly pulled away. You kept your eyes closed for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of pure happiness that you could feel coursing through your body as he gently pressed his lips to your forehead before you both just stood there, letting the silence continue to surround you.
Finally, you slowly peeled your eyes open, and tilted your head up enough to look into his eyes and you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, taking in the redness of his now, kiss swollen lips.
“I have feelings for you, too, Min.” You whispered finally, watching his eyes turn into half- moons, disappearing under puffed up cheeks as he smiled.
“I’d hope so after that.” He replied softly.
You giggled quietly, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, letting him wrap his arms around you completely. “Does this mean you don’t want this jacket back?”
He chuckled, his chest vibrating as the sound echoed through the practice studio. “Were you hoping to win that bet against Felix?”
You laughed, nodding, “Too ambitious, huh?”
“A little, yeah. I want to keep my girlfriend warm,” He paused. “If she wants to be my girlfriend, that is.”
You finally picking your head up to look at him and grinned, “She does.”
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intoanothermind · 13 days
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pairing: Joshua x reader word count: 3.1k warnings: kissing, a swear or two, bad jokes
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Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.
This one is based semi in reality (the laughs bit). Can you even believe?
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shortcut to heaven by lullaboy
oh my god, what a blessing out of ten, you’re eleven
you make it worth all of the waiting somebody patient, somebody kind
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10:54pm.
You technically shouldn’t be cleaning up before the doors officially close at 11:00, but it’s been a slow night, so you figure it can’t hurt. You’re sweeping the farthest corner of the cafe when you hear a new song start to play over the speakers, and you let out a cheer. 
“You’re welcome!” You can hear your coworker shout from his spot behind the counter, where he’s  preemptively cleaning the espresso machine. 
“You rock,” comes your returning yell. 
You love the nights you get to close with Joshua. He wants to get out of there just as quickly as you do, so he’ll break the rules a little and help you clean early when there’s no customers. Plus, he has great taste in music. Since you work the same closing shift three nights a week, the two of you usually split the AUX, but you wouldn’t really mind if he controlled the sound for the entire eight hours.
The song that’s just begun to play is a new favourite of yours that you’d sent him over text last week, and it makes you feel all sorts of giddy that he remembered and played it over the speaker for you.
You hear the espresso machine begin its loud cleaning cycle, and you’re impressed that Joshua had the guts to switch it off completely already. It’s 10:58 now, but if your boss knew, he’d have a fit. You finish sweeping, bringing the broom and dustpan back to the corner it rests in by the counter, and then you jog over to the front door. You turn the lock and flip the sign to CLOSED with a dramatic flourish, and when you turn back, you meet Joshua’s eyes. He’s laughing, and you shoot him a grin. 
“Risky,” is all he says, and you snort. You’re about to tease him back when the landline phone for the cafe rings, and Joshua easily uses a free hand to hold it out for you. You make a face as you recognize the number, but you pick up regardless.
“Hello?”
Your boss’s voice rings out over the line, and you wince. You roll your eyes, putting on a show for Joshua, and you’re rewarded with another soft laugh as he shakes his head. You watch as he finishes wiping down the espresso machine, meticulously scrubbing the syrup shot cups and dumping out the grinds, as you listen to your boss drone on about something being dropped off in the morning. You agree to pass on the message for the girls opening the next day, stifling a sigh as your boss then rambles on about what needs to be done during the closing shift as if you haven’t been doing them for months now. He finally hangs up after you offer a polite laugh in return to one of his lame jokes, and you hand the phone back to Joshua with a grimace. 
“What joke did he tell that time?”
You stretch your arms out over the counter dramatically, leaning forward to rest on them with a yawn. “How do you know he told me a joke?”
“Because he always does.” You pout as Joshua throws a cleaning cloth at you, and you force yourself back into an upright position. “And,” Joshua continues as he heads towards the door to the stockroom at the back, “that was your ‘you just told a joke that was absolutely not funny but I’m too nice to tell you that’ laugh.” He disappears around the corner, and it takes you a second to register what he’s just said to you. 
Your what laugh?
You grab the cleaning spray from under the sink and head towards the tables in the cafe, settling into your usual closing routine with Joshua. As he restocks what’s necessary, you clean the tables and the washrooms, brows furrowing as you replay what Joshua said in your mind. 
You’re distracted when he emerges from the back and turns the music up, and you finish up your closing list in no time. 
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Joshua waits as you lock up, and as you head to your cars, he listens diligently as you finish the story you were telling him. 
“She’s here everyday and gets the same thing every time! I’m not trying to judge people’s coffee orders, but she orders a quadruple-shot Americano at 5pm. Is she okay?” 
Joshua shrugs as he unlocks his car. He peers over the hood at you, lips pursed as though he’s thinking, and then he says, “I don’t know, but you’re right. A four-shot black Americano is definitely a sad drink. A Despresso, if you will.”
You let out the loudest groan known to man as he absolutely beams, proud of himself. You can’t help it — you burst into laughter. 
“Horrible,” you manage, trying to roll your eyes, but you’re still giggling. 
“Ah,” Joshua grins. “See? There’s the laugh you have when you actually find something funny.”
You’re taken by surprise again at the comment. His words make you flush a little, but you’re quick to respond. “No way. That’s impossible, see, because you’re not funny.”
Joshua gasps. “Rude,” he says, scandalized, and you laugh again, lifting your hand in a wave as you open your car door. 
“Bye,” you say in response, grin still wide on your lips. He shakes his head, but he’s laughing, too, and you consider it mission accomplished. “See you on Friday, Shua.”
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You’re having the worst day ever.
First, you hadn’t been able to sleep because of the wind and rain outside your window. When you’d finally stumbled out of bed at 11:00am, you remembered that you were out of milk which meant that you a) couldn’t have a bowl of your favourite comfort cereal, and b) you couldn’t have your morning coffee. When you managed to force yourself to get dressed and out the door to the cafe down the street, they’d been out of your favourite muffin and their espresso machine was being serviced. Last but not least, you’d forgotten to move your clothes from the washer to the dryer the night before, and the load you’d done had included your favourite work shirt — the new one all the employees had been given recently that was plain black instead of the old ugly, vomit shade of yellow-green. So here you are, pulling up to clock in for your shift, wearing the ugliest shirt known to man because you’d forgotten to dry your other one. You think the giant coffee stain on the collar that you’d never been able to wash out really adds to the appeal, too. And when you step in a puddle on your way to the door that almost entirely soaks your left shoe, you barely even flinch.
You’re in a daze as you half heartedly greet your coworkers. One of them simply lets out an ‘oof’ from behind the cash register at the sight of you, and you’re inclined to agree. You head into the breakroom at the back, grabbing your apron from the locker and turning your head only briefly when the door opens behind you. 
“Hey,” Joshua greets.
“Hey,” you return quietly, turning back to fix your ponytail in the mirror. You can feel Joshua looking at you and you face him, your eyebrows raised in question. “What?”
He shrugs, and you watch as his eyes take note of your puke-coloured shirt. “Nothing,” he says after a moment, and you cross your arms. 
“Go on then,” you say. “Get the teasing out of the way now.”
Joshua grabs his own apron, lifting it over his head. You watch as he smiles while reaching to tie it behind his back, meeting your eyes again as he does. “What would I possibly have to tease you about? You look like my favourite movie protagonist.”
You blink. “What? Who?”
Joshua deadpans, smoothing down his apron and beaming as he replies smoothly, “Shrek.”
You pout. He dissolves into laughter, and you hate that you’re genuinely upset by his teasing, but you’ve just had the worst day ever and you can’t help it. You turn away from him, trying to compose yourself as you let out a forced laugh of your own. “Funny,” you say, trying to appear way less upset than you are.
”Hey,” Joshua says softly, and you close your locker door. The last thing you want is for him to feel bad for you right now.
“Let’s go. It’s almost 2:00,” you say, and you’re about to brush past him when he gently grabs your elbow. 
“Hey,” he says, and when you meet his eyes, you can tell he genuinely feels bad for teasing you. “I’m sorry.”
He searches your face, concern written all over his, and your shoulders relax just a little. “It’s okay. It was funny,” you offer. 
“I know it was, but you gave me your ‘I would normally find this funny but something is wrong’ laugh.” 
“Okay, now that’s ridiculous.” 
Joshua searches your face. It’s not lost on you that he’s still got a gentle grip on your arm as he says, “So you’re telling me nothing’s wrong?” 
You open and close your mouth for a moment. For some reason, you want to tell him everything. Instead, you settle for, “I’m okay, Shua. Thanks.” 
He nods slowly in response, seemingly deciding not to question you further. Then he reaches into his locker and pulls something out, holding it towards you. “Here. I keep a spare one just in case.” When you don’t say anything, dumbfounded, he drapes the black t-shirt over your shoulder and smiles. “It’s clean, don’t worry. And I really don’t mind if you wear it.” 
Before you can process any of it, he’s disappeared out into the cafe. When you emerge a few minutes later, he’s already clocked you in so that you’re not late, and the rest of your shift passes without a single comment on the black t-shirt you’ve changed into.
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You’re staring again.
It’s a bit slow at the cafe this evening, and your eyes stay on Joshua as he leans against the counter, scrolling on his phone for a song he wants to show you. He’s laughing as he explains how he’d discovered it, blissfully unaware of the way you’re gazing at him like he’s the sun incarnate. You wish you could blame your unprofessionalism on the fact that you’re bored, but the truth of it is, simply, that your coworker has the most delightful laugh.
You’ve known Joshua for a couple of months now. You’d clicked immediately during your first shift together, and it had been easy from then on out. Even on your worst days, everything is a little better with him there. He greets every customer with a friendly greeting and a smile, and he never complains. His smile makes your day, and his laugh… you’re starting to realize that it does something to you. 
It doesn’t help that he’s often laughing at your jokes. Or commenting on your many different laughs, which you’ve come to learn are plenty. Since that closing shift when he’d first mentioned it, he’s pointed out at least five different laughs of yours. If you’re honest, it’s got you entirely flustered. Joshua has always been kind to you, and you would even argue that you’re friends now… but do friends pay this much attention to one another?
You think about it all day. You think about it when he calls out a drink order to you with a smile; you think about it when he goes on his break and you miss him the entire time. You think about it when you meet eyes throughout your shift; you think about it when he hides the last chocolate chip muffin from customers so you can have it on your lunch.
You’re still thinking about it as the day nears its close. As usual, you find yourself a bit bummed about the end of your shift. Not because you want to work – you don’t – but because you know you won’t see Joshua for at least two days after this. 
You’ve been on beverages all afternoon, and you’re grateful when the post-work rush keeps you busy. You’re making your third decaf latte in the last thirty minutes, and you thank the customer politely when you hand them their drink. You offer a polite smile and a laugh as they make a joke about how silly decaffeinated coffee is, really, and you’ve just turned back to the espresso machine when you nearly run into Joshua. He leans past you to hand the same customer a muffin he’d warmed up in the microwave before he meets your eyes.
“That was your customer service laugh,” he says, low enough for only you to hear, and you flush.
You can’t help it as you say, “You pay an awful lot of attention to me, Mister Hong.”
Joshua chuckles, not fazed in the slightest that you’ve pointed it out. He just smiles. “You’re hard not to pay attention to.” 
His admittance is soft, nonchalant. And when he leaves you at the espresso machine to tend to the next customer, you stand there for a few moments, staring blankly at the metal of the machine in front of you. Even after you’ve kickstarted your brain into working again, his words bounce around in your head for the rest of your shift. 
And for the next few days.
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It starts off just like any other day.
You arrive ten minutes before your shift – as usual. Joshua arrives soon after, and you forget how to breathe for a minute when he says hello – as usual. Then you spend the rest of your day wondering if he’s flirting with you, or just being really, really nice – as usual. 
Just another ordinary day.
Until you and Joshua find yourselves soaked from head to toe in coffee and hot water. 
“I’ve told him so many times that we need a new one,” you mutter helplessly as the two of you stare at the broken machine. You’re angry, but mostly you’re just tired from going to war with the espresso machine. 
You’d been cleaning it after the last customer had left when it had begun to spray coffee grinds and brown, grimy water all over you and your apron. Joshua had rushed out immediately as soon as he’d heard you gasp, and the two of you had done everything in your power to stop it. You’d won in the end – but at what cost?
Joshua sighs, humming in agreement as a hand rubs at his jaw. “We’ll let him deal with it in the morning. It’s not your fault at all.” He turns to you, a hand lifting to your shoulder as he says softly, “Are you sure you’re not hurt? The water didn’t burn you?” 
You shake your head, offering him a tired smile. “I’m good, Shua. Did it get you at all?”
“I’m okay.” 
He smiles back, giving your arm a squeeze before he turns, and you watch as he slides down slowly to sit on the floor. You let out an exhausted laugh before you join him, resting your head back against the counter in a mirror image. He glances over at you at the sound of your laughter, a smile lifting the corner of his lips. You wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He just gazes at you, and your breath catches in your throat.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what kind of laugh that one was?” You ask, voice low in the quiet of the closed coffee shop. Joshua’s smile grows wider as he finally looks away. It takes you a moment longer to look away from him, though. He’s got the tiniest smear of coffee grains on his cheek, and you wonder what he’d do if you reached out to brush them off. 
“Does it bother you?”
You blink out of your daze. “What?”
Joshua picks at a thread on his jeans. Neither of you has the energy to lift your heads from the cupboard behind you, and you can’t imagine what the two of you look like right now — covered in coffee grinds and dirty water as you sit side-by-side, slumped on the floor behind the counter. 
“You know,” Joshua says softly, gesturing vaguely, “the whole laugh thing.”
You look at him again in surprise. “Oh.” You bite your lip, looking down at your hands. You shake your head. “No, it doesn't bother me at all.” You flush as you add quietly, “It’s nice that someone notices stuff like that about me.” 
You can feel Joshua’s eyes on you again. “I like that you have so many different laughs.” He pauses. “It’s versatile.”
You let out a snort at that, and when you meet his gaze to roll your eyes, you’re stopped by the way he’s smiling at you. 
Then he says, as soft as ever, “I like your laugh a lot, actually.”
Your breath hitches in your throat as his eyes fall to your mouth. “Laughs,” you correct shakily as your gaze finds his mouth, too. “Plural.”
“Right,” he murmurs with a smile, “laughs. All of them.”
You don’t know who begins to lean in first. All you know is that he’s so pretty, even with his coffee-stained apron and his coffee-grind-covered cheek. Even as you both seem to forget that you’re filthy when his hand finds your chin and tilts you up to meet his mouth. 
He’s pretty, and his lips are so warm, and it’s over way too soon. 
But his hand is still on your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. You can’t help it — you let out a small, breathless laugh, and Joshua’s smile spreads wide. 
“That one’s new,” he whispers. 
“I think that one means ‘finally’.”
His answering smile is so fucking soft that you think you melt right on the spot. When he stands up and holds out a hand to help you, he pulls you up and right into his chest, and you have a feeling the closeness isn’t an accident. The way you pull him even closer by his apron isn’t, either.
And it’s definitely not an accident when he kisses you again, pushing you gently against the coffee-stained counter.
“I was really hoping to do this off the clock,” Joshua muses against your lips, “but I’m not upset at all that I’m being paid overtime to kiss you right now.”
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A/N: sorry this took so long, there’s been a lot going on in my life!! Thanks for waiting xx
If you read it REBLOG IT, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @iluvseokmin@seohomrwolf @tae-bebe
(Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’m sorry!)
218 notes · View notes
intoanothermind · 14 days
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Never Knew I Needed ~ *Choi Seungcheol*
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Summary: During an interview, Seungcheol is asked to divulge details about your relationship. He's more than happy to tell the interviewer how much he loves you.
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluffyish Oneshot
Word Count: 1245
Warning: N/A
Masterlist
Taglist: @samepoisonsamevine @kpop-will-kill-me
"Choi Seungcheol, if I may ask a personal question?" The interviewer asked.
Seventeen's leader froze for a brief second before giving an easy smile and nod. "You may."
"Tell me, what is the most important thing in your life?"
Jeonghan snickered under his breath. "Man, we're going to be here forever!"
Seungcheol rolled his eyes before answering the question, "For starters, my family, though my brother sometimes gets on my nerves. And then I'd have to say Seventeen. I couldn't imagine my life without either of them. They're my family, whether by blood or not."
"You're so cheesy!" Junhui groaned and shook his head.
"He loves us! We're his favorite!" Hoshi proudly grinned.
Seungcheol rolled his eyes. "You guys are obnoxious! I'll take it all back!"
"Too late! You love us!" Hoshi shot back.
Joshua nudged his shoulder with a teasing smile. "You're still forgetting someone."
"Forgetting someone?" The interviewer leaned in a little with an encouraging smile.
Seungcheol looks down at his lap, a shy smile on his lips and his fingers anxiously twisting in his fingers in his lap. "They're talking about my girlfriend."
"She's more than your girlfriend!" Vernon piped up.
"They're practically soulmates." Joshua explained.
"He never stops talking about her!" Jeonghan added.
The interviewer gives Seungcheol an encouraging nod to continue. "Tell us more about her."
Though he knows he shouldn't, he does anyway, "She's special in her own unique way. I like to say she has this uncanny ability to be at the right place at the right time. Like when I first met her."
"Is that so?"
He nods. "I met her a couple years ago. She was working backstage of a music show and she had pulled me aside to fix my jacket and hair. I swear, I could've melted into a puddle right then and there. She was so kind and her touch was so gentle and her eyes practically were sparkling. I don't usually believe in love at first sight, but that day I knew I did."
"See? I told you they were soulmates." Joshua joked, earning a laugh from the other members of Seventeen.
"It wasn't until after she wished me good luck that I asked if she would be watching us perform. She said she watches everyone perform and that she'll be watching us as well. I'll admit, I put extra effort into my performance that night. After we won and we were getting ready to leave, I found her cleaning a green room and gave her my number before running off. She texted me on the way home."
"She probably felt bad for the dork who was trying and failing to flirt with her." Minghao snickered under his breath.
"He was so bad at flirting when they first started talking!" Seungkwan explained. "It was painful to watch!"
Seungcheol rolled his eyes. "As you can imagine from their reactions, they teased me for my relationship with her and how much I talked about her. But eventually, they started begging me to meet her. I was nervous at first, since it's a big step, but eventually I brought her to meet the group. And they loved her immediately!"
"She's nicer than you!" Dino piped up with a cheeky grin.
"She's so sweet!" Mingyu nodded. "We love having her around."
Jeonghan dramatically sighed before saying, "She's practically taken my spot as mom of Seventeen. I've been replaced!"
"You have not!" Seungcheol shot back. "Remember? As soon as you brought that up, she told you that she could never replace you and told you how important you are to Seventeen. She totally inflated your ego beyond belief that day."
"And I thank her everyday for it." Jeonghan replied with a smile.
Turning back to the interviewer, Seungcheol continued his story. "That was the day I realized how much I love her and I told her that very night. It's also when we had our first kiss."
"So romantic!" Hoshi wistfully sighed before bursting into giggles.
The interviewer nodded at their response. "Sounds like you love her very much. But to be honest, there have been some rough times, haven't there? I'm sure dating a celebrity such as yourself is no easy feat."
Seungcheol gives a small wince. "Well, yes, we've had our moments where things don't go according to plan. But we always work through our conflicts to the best of our abilities."
"Like the World Tour Incident." Jihoon interjected.
The rest of Seventeen shudders at the thought, making the interviewer intrigued. "Please, tell us what this incident was about!"
Seungcheol winces once more before beginning the story. "This world tour was about two or three months, and I had never been away from my girlfriend for that long. I was sure we were going to be fine, but I misjudged how long the time was and how far apart we'd be. By the time we wrapped up the third week of performances, I thought she had forgotten all about me-"
"She didn't call him like twice in that time." Junhui explained.
"Regardless!" Seungcheol snapped. "I thought this was her way of saying we were over, so I went with it. We were over, that's it. And I was in such a dark place that I threw myself into my work. I don't really remember what happened during that time, but from what the rest of Seventeen has told me, it wasn't a pretty sight."
"It's best that you don't know." Seungkwan shook his head.
"After two weeks of that, she visited me at our hotel. I was so angry with her and myself, that I was the one who blew her off. I demanded she leave and never see me again." Seungcheol hung his head in shame. "I never should've done that. I don't know what came over me but it was awful. For the rest of the tour I was so depressed, thinking I had gotten rid of one of the only good things in my life."
"And that's when Wonwoo had an amazing idea!" Mingyu piped up and grabbed Wonwoo's arm.
Jihoon nodded. "He invited her to our last concert of the tour and we had her in the front row."
"He almost cried like a baby when he saw her!" Jeonghan teased their leader. "But he put his all into that performance, just so he could impress her like the first day they met."
"And when the concert was over, we made sure she was backstage to be there for him." Vernon nodded.
Seungcheol gave a small smile. "I was so overcome with emotion I just broke down in her arms. I cried for what felt like hours and apologized like my life depended on it. When I got all of that out of my system, she told me how much she loved me and how happy she was that I was coming home. From then on, I knew I would never let our relationship get that bad again. And it never has."
"Their reunion was so sweet, it still brings a tear to the eye." Hoshi pretended to fake cry.
The interviewer nodded. "It sounds like you really love this girl."
"That's an understatement." Chan snorts.
Seungcheol just nodded. "I do. I love her more than anything in the world, plain and simple."
"Any plans for the future of your relationship with her?"
The rest of Seventeen snickered as Seungcheol's smile turned mischievous.
"Oh? Didn't you know? We're getting married tomorrow."
115 notes · View notes
intoanothermind · 15 days
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PAUSE + PLAY
wonwoo x reader (f) / g: meet cute, 90s au, fluff, strangers to lovers / wc: 4k / warnings: cursing, some nipple action, mingyu being a sl*t, / r: nc17
written for Now, That's 90s! collab, hosted by @beomcoups and I! ngI struggled not because I couldn't write this one, but because life is kicking my ass and I couldn't find the time to really sit and think through it... anyways it turned out pretty cute please read if you can <3
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A drop of sweat rolled down from your forehead, you blew some air to your face but of course it was hot and it made you dizzy. “Is this thing even on?.” you shouted from the other corner of the shop, to your co-worker, Mingyu.
You stood under the AC trying to feel if there was actually cool air coming from it but you couldn’t feel but a weak wave of hot air over you. 
“Yeah, that thing is better off.” Mingyu shouted back, where he was lining up tapes in the kids section. “By the way, could you help me check the return box? There’s some tapes missing here, they should be there.” 
You waved out, going to the returns box at the entrance of the store. A few tapes were in, three Toy Story 2, one Tarzan and a copy of 10 Things I Hate About You along with two Armageddon at the bottom. You placed the movies on the counter as Mingyu was approaching you. “We need to rewind them first, all of them!” You say inspecting the tapes, “Geez, why do they never do it?.” 
Mingyu laughs and shakes his head. “The sign even says “Please” on it, right?.” He taps the hardcover of the vhs box, where “Please rewind before returning” signs reads on it.
“And it's so hot to be in the rewind room!.” you nag once more, taking the tapes with both arms and dragging your feet to the back of the store and rewind the tapes before someone comes looking for them. Mingyu returns to his previous spot on the kids section, not without laughing at you first. 
Despite the whole minute that it took you to get there, you are now placing the tapes into the machine, leaving the door open so some of the air could get in, the small and dark room feels suffocating just by being two steps inside it. In the speakers of the store, the faint sound of Genie In a Bottle plays on and you start humming, partly because you have the song stuck in your head thanks to Mingyu playing the cd over and over when he is on shift, and because it somehow helps the task be a little less tedious.
While on it, you hear the bells ringing meaning a customer has come to the store. You peek out to see a familiar tall figure enter, waving his way in walking directly towards the back where Mingyu was at the kids section.
“Hey!” you heard the guy saying until he disappeared from your line of sight. You tried to peek out more but it won’t be possible without you stepping out of the room, so you hurried up the process to get another glance before he’s out.
In the month you have been working there, you have seen this guy come in at least once a week. You were sure he was Mingyu’s friend as he always walked directly towards him or looked for him especially after picking up some tapes. The past times he had come with you on shift without Mingyu, you had the bad luck of always doing something like rewinding tapes or in the bathroom, never getting the chance to even greet him when he entered the store.
One thing for sure, hee was cute as hell. Cat like eyes and thin defined lips, huge black frames on his face, making it look smaller. And you noticed only by getting little glimpses of him, as he was always in a rush or something, never staying more than five minutes. You thought of asking Mingyu who he was but decided not to as you were still new in the store and even if you liked and had fun working with him, Mingyu has proven to be the teasing type, and he wouldn’t let you work in peace if you dare asking him about this other guy.
Just as you were cursing at Armageddon for rewinding so slowly, you heard them saying goodbyes and the chiming doorbell announcing he was out. 
With a sigh you rolled your eyes and finished your task without hurry, hoping the cat boy would come back soon and you were luckily enough to be on the counter to greet him. 
.
.
.
Today was a Monday, and the week promised to be a quiet one. Not many new releases came to the store yet so customers wandered a little bit before getting out, or just asking when would you stock Sleepy Hollow or why you had so few copies of The Sixth Sense. You tried your best to give every customer a smile at the beginning but after a month of getting the same questions over and over, you just shrugged and advised people to come back later, and maybe the previous customer had brought it back by then. 
Mingyu was way better with customers, both girls and guys. ‘I’ll get it ready and rewinded this afternoon for you’ he said with a wink to a middle aged lady, who shamelessly smiled and flirted with him while her kid smudged chocolate from the bar he was eating on a copy of Inspector Gadget.
“Great, now I have to clean that.” you glared at Mingyu as he saved the piece of paper with the woman’s number on his back pocket once she and the chocolate kid were gone. “I swear to God I’ve seen her come in with her husband.” you arch your eyebrows at him. 
“That doesn’t seem like a me problem.” He shot gun fingers at you and got back to his task on the counter, where a few other ladies waited for him.
You chuckled and started spraying windex on Mathew Broderick’s face covered in chocolate, laughing at how Mingyu flirted shamelessly with every single one of them, all at once, but they didn’t seem to mind. 
Once good ol’ Mathew’s face was clean you left the tape back on the shelf, when you heard the bell ring. “Y/n, can you help?” Mingyu hurried to tell you, he was now surrounded by the women as he showed them a copy of Between Your Legs animatedly. “This one is from our exclusive foreign section, so exotic! And the plot is fascinating…” He looked at the ceiling and the ladies followed.
You shook your head and got up from where you were squatting, seeing the tall figure of cat-boy coming through the door. He looked at the commotion on the counter and figured out Mingyu was busy at the moment. He hesitated for a second before turning back ready to head out when you sprinted towards him, shouting “HI!! WELCOME IN!” maybe a little too enthusiastically. 
“H-hi,” he said back, a little startled by your shouting. Mingyu also looked up to you for a moment, but he was quickly back to answering curious questions from his little fan club. “Uhm, I’ll be back later when-”
“No! Please, I know Mingyu usually helps you out but please tell me what can I do for you?,” you smiled with pressed lips and your voice two tones higher than how you usually speak, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing him in front of you confirmed your suspicions, he was stupidly handsome, freakingly hot even behind those thick square glasses. His hoodie smells like coffee and the cap he was wearing backwards made the earring on his left ear seem more dangly. 
“I really would prefer to wait for Mingyu…” 
“Nonsense!” you guided him towards a free counter next to where Mingyu and his harem were discussing Between Your Legs, quickly putting some space between you two before you would get inappropriately close and start sniffing his sweater, your eyes shining brightly as you spotted cat hairs on them. 
God he is so hot for a nerd!!!
“So, what can I do for you today, I’m Y/n by the way,” you smiled again and you could swear you creeped him out by the way he started sweating. It was hot as hell inside but still, his ears turned red and the tapes he was carrying under his arm were starting to slip from his grip. He quickly put them in the pocket of his hoodie, smiling awkwardly and glancing at Mingyu behind his frames. 
You glanced at Mingyu too, who began chuckling, losing for a moment his track on the plot of the movie he was explaining. 
“Are you going to return those?” you extended your hand but he stood still, tapes still packed into his hoodie. “No?,” you asked again. He opened his mouth briefly but smacked his lips loudly looking at the ceiling. 
He looked at Mingyu and his expression changed from mortified to annoyed. He bit his cheek and took a deep breath before taking out the tapes and laying them one on top of another before you. 
Night of the Giving Head, A Beautiful Behind, Yank my Doodle! It's a Dandy!, and Throbin Hood laid on the counter before you.
There was a few seconds of silence, only broken up by Mingyu’s suppressed wheeze. You cleared your throat lightly, taking the tapes and checking if they were rewinded. “Oh a rewinder, that’s unusual!” you chuckled dryly not really knowing how to break the wall of ice that suddenly appeared in front of you.
“I didn’t watch them,” He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “That’s why they are- anyway.” He sighed and stopped, releasing it seemed like he was making up excuses for not one in particular. 
“You don’t have to explain,” You tried to sound friendly and not make a big deal, but you had so many questions and this selection was the last thing you expected to see him with. “We are a judging free video store,” the words coming out mechanically as you remembered the training video Mingyu played for you once on your first day.
“Yeah…It’s not… Can we please get this over with quickly?,” He returned to his mortified expression and you nodded quickly annotating the returns on the logbook. “Thanks,” He smiled awkwardly at you before tapping the counter once, glancing quickly at Mingyu one more time before sprinting out.
“He’s going to murder me, but oh god, it was worth it!”
Mingyu was now smiling ear to ear, waving goodbye to the last girl that visited the shop for the day, her phone number written on his palm. “I got no more sticky notes left,” he said before sticking his hand out to her.
“Yeah that was… I didn’t even know we had these.” you were sweeping the floors as the store was about to close, keeping yourself busy for the rest of the day still thinking about the Night of The Giving Head cover inside your mind. “Wait, he’s your friend, does he only watch porn?.” 
Mingyu laughed loudly, helping you out by taking the trash bags out of the bins and emptied them in one big plastic bag. “Maybe, why do you ask?” he arched his eyebrows at you. 
“No reason, it was just- he doesn’t look like the porn addict type.” 
Mingyu laughed louder. “Wait till I tell him you think he’s a porn addict!” He collected the dust you were sweeping onto the plastic bag, making a knot and throwing it on his shoulders. 
“Wait! Why would you tell him that?!” 
“No reason…” he smirked, walking outside to take out the trash. 
.
.
.
The next week the store got busier than usual, so Mingyu and you barely got to chat with each other about cat-boy or anything really. He had also switched shifts to train a new employee, a younger guy, probably a highschooler, who he spent most of the time in the mornings, leaving you alone to take care of the closing shift. 
Saturday came quickly, and you were alone in the shop. Lights were almost all out, and you were finishing stocking some new tapes that came that afternoon, the last task before officially closing. 
Somehow the humid air was insufferable even by night time, so you were sweating bullets over the thick fabric of your uniform shirt. You couldn’t believe they made you wear this in this hot weather, but alas, you were transpiring and melting under it. 
As you finished putting the tapes on their respective shelfs, you walked towards the bathroom where you had a spare shirt, not before turning the volume of the radio a little, you played music a lot in the shop and the customers seemed to like your taste more like Mingyu’s.
Once there, humming to Bills Bills Bills, you were looking for your spare shirt when you noticed you it wasn’t there. “What the-?” you cursed under your breath, sure you had one hanging on the stall reserved for staff. One glance at the sweaty uniform shirt you just took off and you knew you won’t be wearing that again. “Come on, I already put roll-on….” you whined. Then you remembered there were a couple of uniform shirts in the lockers, maybe too big for you but that would do for today and you will return them tomorrow. 
And so you were signing,
Can you pay my telephone bills?, 
Can you pay my automo’ bills? 
If you did, maybe we could chill…. 
When suddenly the tall figure of cat-boy appeared in front of you right by the counter. He stared. And you stared back. And his eyes stayed on your face for a a few seconds, but they quickly drifted a little down, on your lace see through bra, nonetheless.
“What the fuck?!” you shouted, sprinting towards the locker room. 
“Im sorry! I knocked, and the lights were on…. I thought…” you could hear him speak but there was a high ringing pitch in your ears that made his voice fade away as you took one of the spare uniform shirts and slipped in over your head. “The fuck you needed to wear a see through one today, huh?!” you covered your face with both palms.
“I’m sorry… I better go…”
You heard footsteps and shouted “No!” back but when you were out you could only see his back walk out the door.
You blew raspberries, feeling insufferably hot under the hot fabric of the oversized uniform shirt, that covered you like a circus carp. “Too much for our second encounter, cat-boy.” 
.
.
.
The next day you got to the store a little early, trying to catch Mingyu before he left for the day, and to your surprise, he was waiting for you.
“A nipple piercing!” 
“Good afternoon to you too!” you sighed, walking towards the locker room with Mingyu’s tail wagging at your ankles. “And how could he notice that?! It was dark!” you threw your backpack at your locker, huffing and puffing, ignoring Mingyu’s curious eyes.
“I guess he was really paying attention,” he teased. You shot him a glare and he raised his arms signaling peace. “Hey, don’t be mad that he told me, I’m his best friend and well, he actually came looking for you, how could he know you liked walking around the store naked when you were on shift alone?” 
“I-wasn’t-naked.” you slapped the locker room shut. “Wait… he came looking out for me?”
Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows in response. 
“Tell me everything, or else.”
“He likes you, duh.” Mingyu moved toward his locker, pretending to roam for something but you knew there wasn’t anything there. “He has had his eyes on you, since the first day he saw you working here.”
“But why hasn't he talked to me? He always comes in and it’s gone in a second.” 
Mingyu clicked his tongue. “He had a bad break up two years ago, and honestly he’s pretty shy, maybe that’s why we are such good friends, we balance each other…” you crossed your arms signaling he was deviating from the topic. “... So he wasn’t sure how to approach you, he has been coming here asking me to be a wingman but I refused, I was trying to encourage him so I told him you were going to be alone yesterday.”
You sighed, walking out the locker room with Mingyu behind you, ready to get off.
“Want me to tell W-”
“NOO!” you shouted, making the couple of customers in the store turn their heads at you. “Don’t tell me his name, I want him to tell me when he finally comes and talks to me.”
Mingyu chuckled and nodded, messing your head a little in sign of encouragement. “Get him, tiger. I’ll pass the note out.” He winked and you shrugged as he walked out the store.
Needless to say, all the way to the evening your stomach was swirling inside you. You jumped a little every time the doorbell chimed, and it sank back to your stomach everytime cat-boy wasn’t the one entering.
It was almost seven and you were waving goodbye to the last customer of the day before you changed the sign from open to closed, when you heard the bell one more time. 
The couple of teens walked past cat-boy as he entered the store and they walked out. You could hear loud stomps inside your chest, and you were pretty sure they were so loud he could hear them too. You looked at the mirror wall to your left, and despite being a few feet away you could spot the newest shades of red adorning your face. 
As he walked closer, you smiled shyly, spotting the same color on him too.
“Hey,” he waved so tiny that you felt like your body was becoming butter, cause despite standing up, you felt melted, all over the floor. 
“Hi,” you replied back, not knowing what to say really. Dissociating a little from the awkwardness you focused on him. All of him. His fluffy hair, not hiding under a cap this time. The black thick frames. He was wearing a black sweater, a turtle neck one. Few noticeable white hairs on it. You remembered marshmallow, your cat, and smiled without noticing. 
“Y/n,?” you heard his voice crack, noticing you smiling.
“Sorry! Seeing the cat hair on your sweater reminded me of mine.”
“You have cats?” his eyes became a little bigger. “Me too!”
“Yeah.. I can tell by the cat hair,” you chuckled.
“Right…” he scratched the back of his head. “Well I have a couple.. A few.” 
“I love cats! I only have marshmallow because my landlord doesn’t let me have more, but one day I will!” you were glad you mentioned the cat hair cause this gave you a shot to talk more comfortably. “By the way, did Mingyu tell you my name?”
“I asked him, the first day I saw you here working.”
“Not fair, I didn't let him tell me yours.”
“Huh?” He arched his eyebrows, puzzled. 
“He told me you came looking for me yesterday… Sorry you find me like that, I swear I don’t usually walk around naked when I’m alone here…”
He laughed. “Mingyu told me you probably did.”
You scoffed. “He’s the whore not I.” 
“Can’t defend him from that,” He lowered his head a little, “Sorry I told him about your… well I was frantic after seeing you like that and ran straight to his dorm, I was too shocked I guess, I wasn’t trying to be a creep.”
“And what about the pornos? Night of the Giving Head, seriously?” 
“That was Mingyu! He dropped them at my dorm the night before telling me I should distract myself from being a coward and not talk to you…” He speaked fast and you were trying to follow up. “I swear I didn’t watched them, I tried, but they were too tacky”
“There’s tasteful porn?” you laughed.
“There should be… somewhere” he laughed back. 
“Bet the bastard wanted you to return them so I could catch you myself!” 
“He a hundred percent did.” 
There was a moment of silence after the laugh, and you felt like staring at the floor because looking at him was becoming addicting too quickly. 
“Want me to help you close? I want you to walk out with me for a while, maybe get some coffee?” He suddenly speaks, and you snap out of the mental image of you two sitting on your couch, a few cats around. 
“Uh- well I just need to take out the trash and I’m ready, I- would love that,” He smiles from ear to ear and stands straight, making you notice he’s like, really really tall. 
“I’ll help you with that, be ready when I come back!” He sprinted towards the entrance where the two plastic bags laid one beside the other and took them out. You run towards the bathroom as soon as he’s out, changing your ugly uniform shirt into your spare one, feeling relieved when you notice is there this time. After putting roll on, combing your hair a little and putting some perfume you walk out, finding him waiting for you near the entrance.
He asks if he can wash his hands and once that’s done you close up, and you start walking beside him to nowhere in particular. 
You suggest walking to your recent favorite spot, a part cafe, part flower shop near your apartment. Walking there you talk about your studies, the tedious but fun times at the video store, his job at the library (he was such a nerd!), his and your cat, about everything and nothing in particular, and time just flew by so quickly.
“This is so nice, I didn’t even notice the hour!” you say checking the casio watch on your wrist. And he does the same. 
“Let me walk you home, I would feel bad by letting you take a cab at this hour.”
“It’s not far away…” you object but he insists. “Fine, but just by the door, what if you are indeed a creep or something!” He pouts and gives you the stink eye. You laughed, delighted how quickly you became comfortable with each other.
Once at your door you ask him to give you his palm. “I learned this trick from our dear Gyu,” you say, taking out a sharpie pen from your backpack and writing your number on his palm. “There, call me as soon as you get home, I’m not done talking to you.”
You thanked him for the coffee and sprinted towards your complex door without letting him say anything else. 
A quarter to eleven, your phone starts ringing. 
Grabbing the cordless phone from its base and throwing yourself over your bed you answer. “Hello?,” 
“I was about to tell you my name and ask you on a proper date,” you heard his shaky voice from the other line. He must have literally run or sprinted towards his own apartment. “But you ran away.” 
You smiled, twirling your hair, eyes closed remembering every moment since you closed the video store a few hours ago.
“Y/n?,” 
“Not yet cat-boy, I want you to tell me only after you first kiss me.” A few moments of silence before he speaks again, you can’t see him but you know he’s smiling too.
“Deal, then I won’t be cat-boy much longer.”
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@mingsolo please don't repost/translate to any sites.
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