This Night Together - Chapter Five (j.yh + S.mg)

this night together - chapter five (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter five: not so easy to ignore

chapter summary: things at the studio turn out just about as bad as expected, but wooyoung takes you under his wing and introduces you to some new friends.

warnings: references to a/b/o dynamics such as heat and knotting and designations, alcohol/drinking, angst, sad vibes, but also good vibes?, reference to work place sexual harassment but not like you think

notes: thank you all so much for your kind feedback on this fic. i'm having an absolute blast writing it, and i'm so thankful for all the people giving it a try even tho this genre isn't their thing! that means a lot. this is the last chapter i have written in full, so chapter six may take a little extra time. i'm about to hit a few insane weeks of work, so i'll do my best but please be patient with me. there's a lot more chapters to come though, i promise.....

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 6.9K

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As it turns out, you can’t just go back to being friends. When you wake in the morning you still feel sick, and your first thought is to wonder if Yunho does too. Maybe Mingi feels the same, but was better at hiding it. Maybe you’ll get to the studio and they’ll take you in their arms like a movie and kiss the breath out of you and hold you close and tell you they should have never, ever driven you home. But you doubt it. 

You’ve been in love before, and you’ve had crushes before that. You’re no stranger to getting tangled up in emotional webs, it’s just usually not with people you work with and it’s usually so much easier to walk away. Or run, as you’re used to doing. This body, this designation, this biology, it makes everything always feel so confusing and artificial. Do you want them or does your omega? Do you need them or is it just the after effects of heat? 

It’s a lot easier when you lie to yourself. 

You’ve been dealing with this biology all your life. That’s all this is, and after a little time and a little distance, your body will catch up to your mind and stop feeling this way about them. 

You take those aching feelings and lock them away tightly and then you get up. You shower, you take a deep breath, and then you buy yourself the fanciest coffee you can think of despite the absolute lack of funds in your checking account. This momentary serotonin will be worth the overdraft fee if that’s where it puts you, you need this. 

By the time you get to the studio, you’re pretty confident that you’re over them, convincing yourself that it was just fun, good sex. Great sex, even, but still just sex. 

But the minute you see Mingi every stitch of the resolve you knit for yourself unravels, and he looks surprised to see you even though it was part of the plan that you’d return today. He leaves the room before you can even open your mouth and try to say something innocuous and you know right then and there you were right all along. It was never going to be that simple. 

Yunho blushes when he sees you, his ears turning a dark shade of pink and for a second he trips over his words addressing the wider group. 

Mingi avoids your touch when you cross his path at lunch, offering you just a quick hello and then he’s gone again. 

Instead of searching for their eyes, you start to get really comfortable with the wood grain of the floor and do your best just to focus on yourself. You’re working on something new, and a week ago you would have stayed late to fine tune your understanding of the choreography with Mingi while he waited on Yunho to wrap up in the back office, but you know those days are gone. 

When practice ends they disappear, and you’re left to pack up by yourself. You give it a few minutes, thinking maybe when the rest of the crew trickles out maybe they’ll come to you, but they don’t. So much for being adults about this. You blink back hazy tears as you pull on your jacket, focused on packing up as fast as you can now just to get the hell out of this room. 

You don’t even hear him coming up behind you. 

“Come on,” Wooyoung says with a roll of his eyes, “we’re going for drinks.”

“I really should get home,” You glance over at him as you finish packing up your bag. 

“I’m buying,” Wooyoung counters, “so you really have no excuse.” 

What you really want is to go home and bury yourself under the covers for the foreseeable future. Every awkward second glance with Yunho was making you want to curl into a ball and every moment Mingi spent pretending he barely knew you made you want to go home and cry. An entire day filled with almost sentences and troublesome glances and all you can tell yourself is that you knew it, you were right all along. 

You don’t answer Wooyoung, and instead you just can’t help yourself, you look behind you towards the back office, but neither of the men you want to see are there. 

“Are you really so afraid of making friends you’re turning down free drinks?” Wooyoung prods your side, “That’s really fucking lame of you,” 

“Wooyoung,” You sigh, your head dropping back. 

“It’s fine,” He says, his voice lilting up in a sing-song, “I thought you were cool,” 

Your jaw tightens. 

“And I’m not usually wrong,” He goes on, “but it’s fine, I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong, and you, y/n, are lame.” 

“Fine!” You snap up and meet his eyes, “Fine, I’ll come, but just one drink.” 

“Excellent,” He smiles, and you’re starting to get the sense that Wooyoung doesn’t really take no for an answer ever. 

“One drink,” You repeat. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs off, “come on, get your stuff, we’re meeting San at 1987.” 

“Where?” 

“Bar,” He brushes off your question without really answering, “let’s go,” 

Wooyoung turns on his heel without a second thought, and he’s off. You have to jog to keep up with him to get out of the building, and he’s mostly quiet until you hit the evening street outside. He slows to a casual pace and turns his head to you when he says, “You like San, right?” 

The question catches you off guard, “Of course,”

Wooyoung smiles, “He’s definitely all business at work, most of the time, but don’t worry.” 

“Why would I worry?” Your brow furrows, every interaction you’ve had with San so far has been perfectly pleasant, albeit professional.

“I just mean he’s fun,” Wooyoung corrects himself, “he’s just really serious about the work,” 

“You’re all kind of like that,” You point out, “mostly,” 

“Right,” Wooyoung nods, winding his way through an alley and you divert off the main street to follow him as he leads you through the back way to their regular spot. 

“He takes training really seriously,” You offer, “but I think that’s good. We could all hurt ourselves if we weren’t following his plans,” 

Wooyoung grins, “Oh, he’s going to like the sound of that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” Wooyoung lays a hand softly between your shoulder blades to direct you through a small crowd, “follow that up with how handsome he is and you’ll get special treatment forever.” 

You laugh sharply, “Noted.” 

He points ahead, “Just up there,” 

At the far end of the alley is a hanging neon sign, the ‘7’ in ‘1987’ flickering intermittently. It’s not as flashy as some of the other bars or restaurants along the street you’re walking, but that looks to be part of the charm. As you make your way up to the door and inside, Wooyoung is quick to greet a few people on the sidewalk, throw a wave to the bartender, and he throws around names and details to you faster than you can pick up on them. 

San waits at a table in the far corner, two light, wheat beers already waiting on the table. When he glances up from his phone and sees you both his eyes widen but he smiles pleasantly. 

“Hey!” He smiles, standing and pulling a chair out for you, “I didn’t realize you were coming, I would have ordered you something,” 

“I’m not crashing plans, am I? Woo didn’t say,” You glance between them. 

“Not at all,” San shakes his head, gesturing for you to sit, “you’re more than welcome. Seonghwa should be coming too at some point,” 

“Oh,” Your stomach does a little nervous flip flop. 

“Chill,” Wooyoung interrupts your thoughts immediately, “have a drink, make some friends.” 

You smile, taking your seat and letting San push it in for you so you’re settled at the table before he returns to his own place, gesturing for the server’s attention, “What’s your drink?” he asks you. 

“Whatever you’re having is good,” You make it simple. 

San smiles and points to their glasses before holding up a finger and silently communicating to the server that they need one more. He’s more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, now outside of work full of easy, confident energy. 

“Well,” Wooyoung smiles and takes a long sip of his drink, “this is nice,” 

“Yeah,” You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but you might as well go with it, “thanks for letting me tag along,” 

“Mm,” San’s eyes are trained on the serving staff but he nods, and then stands as your server approaches, meeting them halfway and taking the beer, thanking them profusely for running it out so quickly. When he returns to the table he presents your drink with ease, “There we go,” 

“Thank you,” You nod, accepting the cold glass, and now that it’s in your hand you’re grateful to have the drink after the day you’ve had. 

The sip is calming, cool and crisp, and you sigh as you swallow, not realizing the way you’re being watched by both men. 

Wooyoung’s words nearly knock you sideways, and a tiny piece of you is grateful he waited until you finished sipping your drink, “So, how was your heat?” 

You cough anyways though, just the idea that someone would say it so brazenly, and in public, “What?” 

“Youngie,” San slaps him with the back of his hand, “you can’t ask her that,” 

Wooyoung ignores him, leaning forwards with his elbows on the table now, “The perfume isn’t helping as much as you think,” he says and you blanch, “and I’ve never seen Yunho stare at someone for so long in my life, so,” 

He barely met your eyes all day, and your head snaps up, “He was staring?” 

His mouth quirks up on one side and San swivels his head towards you. Wooyoung nods, “Like a puppy,”

“Fuck,” You breathe. 

Both their eyebrows raise. 

“Sorry, sorry,” You lean back in your chair, hiding your face in your hands. So much for a convenient story about them having the flu. 

“You can curse,” Wooyoung laughs, “I just didn’t expect you to admit it that fast, I thought I’d have to pry it out of you.”

“Oh, this is so bad,” You groan. 

“Why bad?” San asks, “Yunho’s nice,” 

You sigh, still hiding your face.

“He’s easily one of the best guys I know,” San continues, “and there’s nothing that says we can’t date within the company, we’re not idols,” 

“Oh god,” You groan again. 

“Is it so bad he has a crush on you?” San asks. 

Wooyoung breaks into hysterics and your hands fall away, a blank, open expression on San’s face as he tries to pick up on the joke. You wince, shaking your head, “It’s worse than that,” 

“Worse,” San repeats, still slow on the uptake. 

“Woo,” You find his eyes with yours, “please don’t make me say it.” 

He sobers quickly, and takes a swig of his beer, “Right,” he faces San, “Yunho had the flu, but it wasn’t really the flu. They were heat partners.” 

“Oh,” San says, “oh,” 

“Exactly,” You sigh. 

There’s a beat and then San’s brow screws up in confusion, “Didn’t Mingi have the flu too?” 

Heat tints your cheeks pink instantaneously and you look down at your glass, suddenly focused on the tiny bursting bubbles at the top of your beer. You brace yourself for their reaction. 

“Holy shit,” Wooyoung breathes, “y/n, you’re a god,” 

“What?” Your head snaps up. 

“Both of them?” Wooyoung shakes his head, “Tell me everything,” 

“You don’t have to do that,” San interrupts him again, smacking the back of his arm, “he’s needlessly curious, but you know, you don’t have to share if you don’t,”

The words flood out of you, a small piece of you thankful that you don’t have to hold this whole thing inside yourself forever, “I went into heat at the studio,” 

“What?” Wooyoung’s face softens, and you know that he understands just what that means. The anxiety, the fear, all of it. 

“This is embarrassing,” You sigh. 

“Then you don’t have to,” San tries again, wanting badly to save you from any further humiliation or pressure. 

You ignore him and hold Wooyoung’s eyes, “Friends, right?” 

He nods. 

You swallow hard and then take the leap, “I can’t afford my suppressants right now,” you start and his eyes soften more, “I thought I had rationed them right, but after the recording it hit me like a truck.” 

“I knew you seemed off,” Wooyoung says softly, “then what?” 

“Mingi found me in the locker room, and then he got Yunho, and they made sure I got out of there okay,” You lean back, crossing your arms and biting the inside of your lip. 

“Sharing your heat was unplanned?” Wooyoung clarifies. 

“Yes,” 

“And it was,” He searches for the right words, “I mean… were they okay? Everything was okay?” 

You know what he’s asking without asking, and you nod, “Completely, it was more than okay, they were…”

“They’re both good guys,” San says, “it’s good they were there.” 

“Yeah,” You breathe, before snapping yourself out of own head and reaching for your beer again, “anyways, yes, so they took me back to their place and now it’s four, five days later and everything’s so fucking awkward,” 

“Hmm,” Wooyoung murmurs, “and it was good?” 

You nod, lips pressed tight together in a line. 

“Oh, it was too good,” Wooyoung grimaces, “yikes.” 

“Right,” You sigh, “and Yunho and Mingi both made it pretty clear that this was a one-time casual sex thing, which is fine, but also you know how heat goes. Everything is all jumbled up now,” 

“Mm,” Wooyoung nods, and then his eyes shift to above your head and he grins, “Hwa, right here!”

Park Seonghwa appears a moment later, a warm smile on his angular face and he pushes a lock of dark black hair behind his ear as he finds an open seat and slides into the table, “Hey,” he greets, and then turns to you, “hi, y/n, nice to see you outside the studio,” 

“You too,” You smile. 

San once again repeats his process for getting Seonghwa a drink, and your stomach tightens as you think about what Wooyoung might say in front of this man you barely know. 

“It looks like I interrupted something,” Seonghwa says a few moments later when everything is still quiet and hanging still. 

Wooyoung doesn’t say it, he just holds your gaze intently and raises an eyebrow as if to say - Can I? 

You sigh, catching Seonghwa off guard, and then you nod. 

“y/n just got back from heat leave,” Wooyoung turns to Seonghwa to explain, “with Yunho and Mingi.” 

You expect a sheepish or embarrassed reaction, someone quick to divert the conversation away from sex, but it turns out you don’t know Seonghwa as well as you thought. He merely makes a noise of acknowledgement and glances to you, “How messy are things, then? They were both being weird today,” 

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly with a sigh. 

“They said they wanted it to be a one-time thing,” Wooyoung says, “but is the problem that you like them? Or one of them?” 

“I can see that,” Seonghwa smiles, “Yunho kind of oozes perfect boyfriend,” 

“It’s not that,” You shake your head, words bubbling up as you try to make sense of it, “it probably shouldn’t have happened at all, and I’m new, I don’t want to make anything weird or uncomfortable, but we spent like four days together… it was intense, and now I just feel like I can’t not think about it when I look at them,” 

“Intense, good?” Wooyoung quirks a brow, nudging you under the table. 

“Woo,” You sigh, “I’ve never felt like that,” 

“What do you mean?” He asks softly, the two alphas at the table going silent to watch you both. 

“I don’t know what it is about them,” You confess, “but the entire time all they did was make sure I was okay, they were so tender and kind, and when I left I just wanted to go back.”

“Oh,” Wooyoung murmurs, “you’ve got it bad,” 

“My hormones are just out of whack,” You shake your head, “you know what it’s like. Have an alpha tell you they want to give you pups enough times and your brain short circuits,” 

Seonghwa shifts in his seat and San clears his throat, but Wooyoung just laughs. 

“Anyways, yes,” You take another sip of your drink, “I spent my heat with them, had the best sex of my life, and now I’m sitting here with a stomach ache because I don’t know where they are right now. I feel like the universe is playing a trick on me,” 

“Wait,” Wooyoung starts to say, but you’re on a roll now, the single beer hitting just a little harder than it should have. 

“Working here, with all of you, was my dream. I just think it’s funny that I haven’t even been here for three months and I’ve already managed to fuck it up, because now everytime I look at Yunho all I can hear is me begging him to claim me, which is insanity, pure and complete insanity,” 

“Wait,” Wooyoung repeats again, hands up and out trying to get you to slow down, “I thought it was casual heat sex,” 

“It was,” You resurface from your own panicked rambling and realize just how shocked the table looks, “what?” 

“You asked Yunho to bite you?” Wooyoung asks, and when you nod he says, “and right now, how do you feel?” 

“Fine,” You knee-jerk answer, “but, a little anxious I guess?” 

“I don’t know how to explain this,” He says, looking to the two alphas for help who both shake their heads. 

“Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” You glance between them. 

“Okay,” Wooyoung claps his hands together, “listen, I have never asked Sannie to give me pups. I have never asked him to bite me, and I have never, ever, gotten all dizzy and sick when he’s not around.” 

“Hey,” San grumbles, “I think she gets it,” 

“I don’t,” You manage. 

“What you had is a lot more than heat sex,” Wooyoung finally settles on, and your stomach drops. 

“Woo,” You shake your head again, “no,” 

“I’m serious!” He insists, “How else do you explain it,” 

“You’re so dramatic,” You roll your eyes and reach for your drink, but find the glass empty, “it was good, really good, but that’s all it was.” 

“He’s not wrong,” Seonghwa interrupts, his deep voice still calm and easy, “sometimes connections are just stronger. Scents match better, you know, everything just clicks. It doesn’t mean Yunho’s your soulmate, but if the pull is there, then there’s something there.” 

You ignore the pull and flash him a weak smile, “Not for them.” 

“Them,” Seonghwa corrects, “both of them?” 

“I know,” You bury your head in your hands again. 

“y/n,” San’s hand lays softly on your forearm, “no matter what happened, Yunho and Mingi are both still the guys from a few days ago. They’re still good men who care about you, even if that’s just as a member of the crew or a friend.” 

“Can I ask a question?” Seonghwa interrupts. 

“Sure,” You sigh, lifting your eyes to his. 

“How do you know they don’t want you too?” 

The question makes you feel awful, and you catch Wooyoung’s sympathetic look in your peripheral vision and nearly lose your composure, but the truth of it is simple. You clear your throat softly and straighten up, “They said so,” 

“Oh,” He nods. 

“And I’m not even sure I want them,” You tack on, “I don’t even really know them,” 

Silence stretches at the table, and San’s eyes flick from yours to Seonghwa.

“Then let’s get another drink,” Seonghwa finally says, “let’s get your mind off it, and let’s have a good night. I know things are awkward at the studio, but don’t let them be. Just focus on the work and yourself and make some friends, and this whole thing will just be a funny story,” 

You nod and sigh, “Okay,” 

“Yeah,” Wooyoung offers, “a month from now no one’s going to remember,” 

It’s around the third bar when someone brings it up again. You’re several more drinks deep, learning so much about the group dynamics that you can’t get while inside the studio walls. Wooyoung is quick to peel back all the layers for you now that you’re actually out with them and not just pushing it off a little longer for the sake of your wallet. 

Leaning across the expanse of the table Seonghwa gets your attention with a drunken tap on your arm and his eyes narrow, “What’s this about you not being able to afford your suppressants?” 

“What?” For a second his words don’t compute. 

“Your meds, your suppressants,” He gestures, a little beer tipping over the edge of his glass, “why aren’t you on them?” 

“I will be soon,” You lean in closer to hear each other over the music, “insurance window,” 

“Ah,” He nods, “so what’s your plan next time?” 

“Next time?” You turn your head so that his mouth is closer to your ear. 

“Next heat,” He clarifies, a little slur in his speech, “while you’re onboarding,” 

Your eyebrows shoot up at his words, “I don’t really know, I guess,” 

“Mm,” He nods. 

“Why?” You scoot your chair closer. 

“I’m assuming you don’t want to,” His voice gets swallowed up by Wooyoung shouting something over the music and you shake your head. 

“What?” You squint, shifting closer, bracing your hand on the table by his glass to steady yourself. 

“Go back to Yunho and Mingi!” He all but shouts, “I’m assuming you don’t want to do that,” 

“Fuck no,” You groan, “I’d rather take care of it myself than deal with feeling like this,” 

“What about me?” He says and you laugh, but you don’t really know why. He clears his throat and shakes his head, sobering himself just a little, “Seriously,” 

“What about you, what?” 

He rolls his eyes, “Help with heat, I help Woo, San and I both do,” 

“Oh,” 

“Only if you need a hand,” He smiles, round eyes shining and kind, “or you know, a knot in this case,” 

You clap a hand over your mouth and can’t help but fall apart into giggles, “You’re serious,” 

He quirks his eyebrow at you, dropping his drink back onto the table so he can draw an X over his chest with two fingers, crossing his heart. 

“What are you doing over there?” Wooyoung interrupts and your head snaps to the side, “Making a blood pact? You’re both trashed,” 

“I am not trashed,” You insist, even though you can feel yourself slipping off the chair you’re on inch by inch. 

“You’re allowed to be,” Wooyoung pushes a shot of soju towards you, “you’re broke and in love,” 

“Wooyoung!” His words strike panic through you, “Seriously, stop that,”

“Alright, alright,” He throws up his hands, “broke and and in lust, whatever,” 

San’s lips curl up in a half smile at his friend’s words. His eyes are closed, and he’s swaying a little from side to side, jerking back to center every now and again when his equilibrium feels too sideways. It’s entirely possible Wooyoung is the most sober one here and that thought makes you burst into laughter. San’s eyes fly open at the sound. 

“I was offering my services,” Seonghwa cuts in, like he had been thinking about what to say that entire time and finally found the words. 

“Your what?” Wooyoung laughs. 

“For her next heat,” He explains, waving his hand like it’s simple addition, “my services,” 

“Seonghwa,” San shakes his head sharply, “stop.”

“It’s not as if I’m with someone,” Seonghwa replies, holding San’s gaze intently, and for a split second it’s obvious there’s some kind of a backstory behind them all or their friendship or just Seonghwa himself that everyone knows and you don’t, but it isn’t the time to ask.

“Yeah,” San says a little gruffly, blinking hard to shake off the alcohol, “well, this still isn’t the time.” 

Wooyoung wraps it up smoothly, “We’re all too drunk for this,” 

“Exactly,” You take a moment of solace in the cup of soju. 

“I mean it though,” Seonghwa tears his eyes away from San and a hand drops onto your knee, “you’re pretty, I’m pretty, just keep it in mind,” 

There’s almost no way he’ll remember this tomorrow, so you let him off the hook with a smile and a hand on the side of his cheek, “Thank you, Hwa,” 

“That’s what f-friends are for,” He hiccups lightly, and then you watch his eyes unfocus as the dizziness floods his vision and he drops his head unceremoniously onto your shoulder, “oh, God, I’m drunk,” 

“There it is,” Wooyoung grins. 

You slip forward as Seonghwa’s weight drops onto you and you brace yourself on the edge of the table, but San swoops in, “Come here, hyung, stop hanging on her,” 

“Hmm?” Seonghwa’s eyes look tired when San gets him off you and over his shoulder, “Sannie?” 

“Yeah,” San softens, “it’s just me,” 

“I think I need to lie down,” Seonghwa murmurs, his head falling onto San’s ready shoulder. 

“I know, hyung, I know,” San softens, and then turns to the table, “can we go?” 

“Yeah,” Wooyoung stumbles as he gets up but then straightens, tucking himself under Seonghwa’s other arm once he gets his feet under him, “y/n, you good?”

You pull yourself up too, knocking back the final shot of soju so it doesn’t go to waste and pulling on your jacket, “Good,” 

In the cool night air outside the bar everything gets dizzier, more watery and hazy, and something in your gut pulls hard. For a brief passing moment you wonder what Yunho and Mingi are doing right now. 

San’s saying something and you shake yourself out of your stupor, “What’s that?” 

“I said, where do you live?” He lets Wooyoung take more of Seonghwa’s weight as he turns his focus to you. 

You give him your address, “I can call an Uber,” 

“I live kind of close,” He nods, “let me take you,” 

“You really don’t have to,” 

“It would make me feel better,” San brushes you off immediately, “we’ve all been drinking, you shouldn’t be alone,” 

“What about him?” You nod towards Seonghwa. 

“I got him,” Wooyoung assures, “we live in the same building.” 

“You sure?” San checks, “We can all go together,”

“It’s the opposite direction,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “and I’m tired, this just makes more sense,”

San nods and then checks on Seonghwa once more, “Make him drink some water, okay?” 

“Yep,” Wooyoung salutes, rolls Seonghwa into an Uber, and then they’re gone. 

Leaving you and San alone on the sidewalk. 

“Let me get a car,” He says, shaking off some of his lingering drunkenness and pulling out his phone. 

Of the three men, you talked to San the least. As the night had stretched on, you found yourself sidled up with Seonghwa or talking across the table animatedly with Wooyoung, but San seemed to give you a little space. He was also the one who commented the least on your recent sexual escapades and now standing in the middle of the street with him and him alone, you have no idea what you’ll talk about. 

You watch as he types into his phone, lets it search, and then his nose crinkles, “Twenty minutes,” 

“Oh,” You push up on your tiptoes to see his screen, “damn,” 

He thinks for a minute and then sighs, “You want to walk a bit? I need to sober up a little anyways,” 

“Sure,” 

“Hungry?” His brows perk up. 

“Definitely,” You smile. 

“There’s places in our direction,” He waves you on, and you fall into lockstep with him as you wind out of the alley and back into the city streets. 

It’s quiet for a moment, and you know one of you has to break the silence, but mercifully he gets there first, “You’re a good dancer, you know,” 

“So are you,” You glance up at him, and he smiles. 

He’s handsome, especially like this with his cheeks tinged pink with the night of drinking and his hair falling in his eyes. He directs you forward across an intersection and then looks down to keep talking, “You pick little things up really quickly, it’s impressive,” 

“I appreciate that,” The alcohol seems to be less pervasive now that you’re out of the loud club and walking some of it off and you sigh, “honestly, I was staying late with Mingi a lot of nights. He was helping me catch up,” 

“Ah,” San nods, “that makes sense,” 

You keep walking. Normally you can get a conversation going without any problems, but with the alcohol and the late night and the fact that you really don’t know San all that well, you’re tongue tied. 

He sighs heavily and looks at you, like he had been weighing whether or not to say something and finally chose to just do it anyway. “Don’t worry about what Seonghwa said,” He manages, “he was drunk, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Oh,” Your stomach knots up, “he didn’t,” 

“Good,” San nods, looking relieved, “he’s a good man, he’s,” San searches for his words for a moment, “not the type to proposition a coworker, that’s not what,” 

“Oh!” It makes sudden sense why San was being so careful, offering to walk you home and trying to keep Seonghwa in check, “No, San, that’s not at all what I thought,” 

“It’s not?” His eyebrow quirks up. 

“No, I mean,” Your gaze falls away from him, “it probably should be, but I know he meant well. Plus, I know you both help Wooyoung,” 

“Well,” San shakes his head, “that’s a little different,” 

“Because you’re all men?” 

He smiles, a little sheepish, “No, I was going to say because we’re old friends, but I guess there’s that too.” 

“Ah,” You turn towards him, “well, really, you shouldn’t worry about me like that. Hwa was just trying to be a good friend, and I’m sure he won’t remember it tomorrow anyways,” 

He sighs, relieved this time, “Good, okay,” 

“Is that what you were worried about?” You ask. 

“Between that and Woo practically interrogating you,” His nose crinkles again, “that part of your life is private, he shouldn’t pry like that.” 

“I would have told him to stop,” You shake your head. 

“I hope so,” He says, “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with us after everything you’re dealing with. We like you in the crew,” 

“You do?” 

“Definitely,” He twists to meet your eyes, “you have fire. I saw it in the audition tape,” 

Blush flushes your cheeks, “Thank you,” 

“I’m just being honest,” He smiles. 

You smile back. 

It gets easier the more and more you walk with San. The alcohol slowly dissipates in both your systems, and after a few more blocks the idea of street food seems even more appealing. He refuses to let you pay and you only protest once, albeit weakly, before he gives you a simple shake of the head and takes care of things without another word. 

It’s a thirty minute walk, especially at this meandering pace, but eventually you make it back to your block, and you don’t know what possesses you to turn the conversation back to Yunho and Mingi and everything it means but you do. He’s less shy to discuss it now, especially after enough time getting to know each other and sinking into a conversational rhythm. 

By the time you make it to your apartment walkway, your corn dog is half eaten and your previous anxiety about talking to San is gone entirely. You gesture up to your building, “This is me,” 

“Nice,” He comments, and then he takes a seat on your stoop and looks up at you, expectant.

“What?” You ask at his expression. 

“You weren’t done, come on, tell me the rest,” He leans back against the railing, stretching out his legs. 

“Right,” You remember yourself, flopping down onto the step next to him and running a hand through your hair, “where was I?” 

“Yunho reminding you of your ex,” San prompts you. 

“Ah,” You shake your head, “I mean not really, my ex was an asshole, but… I guess I didn’t know that for a long time. I thought he was nice, I thought he was the right guy.” 

“And Yunho’s nice and the right guy?” He smirks. 

“No, no,” You wave your hands, “fuck, I’m not making sense with this at all.” 

“Can I guess?” San turns his body towards you a little more. 

You nod. 

“When your heat was over,” San’s expression is almost a little apologetic as he addresses it directly, “did you all agree it was just sex?” 

“Yes,” 

“And that you could all be adults about it?” He adds. 

You nod again. 

“And today you were all awkward as hell and avoiding each other?” 

“Basically,” 

“Listen,” San rests his hand on your knee, “I don’t know what your ex did or didn’t do, but they’re not that guy.” 

“I know,” You sigh. 

“But I get it,” San interrupts, “it feels like you had this connection and everything was good and now they’re pretending you don’t exist, and how is that different from any other guy?” 

He has you there. You manage a nod. 

“Well, I don’t know how they feel about you,” He offers, “but I promise you they’re just as embarrassed as you. It’s easy to say you’ll stay friends and that the lines won’t get blurred, but they always, always do.” 

You study him for a moment, at the way he’s speaking so genuinely and it dawns on you, “You speak from experience, I’m guessing?” 

He looks down and away, nodding before he brings his eyes back up to yours, “Yeah,” 

“Woo?” You guess softly. 

After an entire night of watching them lean against each other, touch each other, talk amongst themselves in their little bubble, you’re shocked when his mouth turns up into a sad smile and he shakes his head, “No, Woo and I have figured out how to make this whole thing easy,” 

“Oh,” 

“Wooyoung loves me, but he’s not in love with me.” San clarifies. 

“And you?” You ask softly. 

“He’s my best friend,” San says confidently, “and I’ll never let him be in pain,” 

“But?” You nudge him. 

“It was a long time ago,” He shakes his head and for the first time all night you know he’s told you a lie, but you let it pass. He shakes off the momentary lapse and continues, “but I know how you’re feeling.” 

“Then how do I make it right?” You ask him. 

“Sometimes you can’t,” He says honestly, “sometimes one person just feels so much more than the other, and you try to make it work until you bend so much for them you break.” 

“I know what Woo said,” You shake your head, “but I’m not in love with them. I’m not.” 

“I trust you,” San nods, “you know yourself better than Youngie.” 

“It’s just this thing inside me,” You confess, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the lateness of the hour but you feel safer here on your stoop with him than you have in a long, long time, so you keep confessing. “I wish sometimes so much that I could just be a beta, that I could forget all about this and just know for sure. I’ve… never known anything for real and how am I supposed to trust anything I feel if my body just decides for me.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he says, “Being an omega is a beautiful thing,” 

“Don’t,” You shake your head sharply, “I’ve heard that one all my life,” 

“It is,” He insists, “all of it’s beautiful. Every part and piece of us is, alpha, beta, omega, all of it.” 

“San, that’s not,” 

“I know what you meant,” San says softly, sliding his hand into yours and giving you a squeeze, “and it would be easier to be a beta, and to not have to wonder every time. Does the person you like feel right because you like them or because something about them is a good biological match?” 

“Exactly,” 

“Believe me,” He squeezes you again, “I get it.” 

Tears prickle in your eyes and you swallow hard to clear them, “Then how do I make this work? How do I go back to the studio and put this behind me?” 

“Is that what you want?” He checks, thumb stroking along the back of your hand. 

“Yes,” You sigh, “it doesn’t even matter how I feel or don’t feel, I can’t take that risk here,” 

“The work is more important,” He finishes for you. 

“Yes.” 

“Then don’t let them in again,” San says simply, “not like before. Be friends, but keep things professional. Get some distance from this whole thing,” 

“I have a feeling this is not the advice Woo would be giving me,” You smile. 

“No,” San laughs, “Wooyoung would tell you to open yourself up to the great mystery of being loved or something,” 

“And you’re not a romantic,” You smirk. 

“No, no,” He shakes his head, “I am, but being a romantic doesn’t mean you have to let people hurt you. I’ve seen Woo get his heart broken a dozen times now, and he keeps trying. He’s the strongest person I know, and I love him for it, but it’s not the only way.” 

“So what he said at the bar,” You tuck your unfinished food into the little bag and leave it to the side, “what he said about my heat?” 

“I mean,” He shrugs, “y/n, this isn’t your first time. Don’t listen to him,” 

“But Seonghwa,” You remember the way Seonghwa agreed, like a scent match was the stars aligning. 

“Fuck them both,” San shakes his head, “just because you had a connection with them doesn’t mean they’re the only people you can connect with.” 

Your eyes fill with tears again and he shakes his head when he sees your hazy eyes, brushing your jaw softly with his fingers. You swallow hard and sigh, breath hitching in your chest, “You know what’s funny about this?” 

“Hmm?” He brushes your jaw again. 

“I don’t even want to date right now, I just,” You shrug lightly, “I want to work. I want to have friends. I want to go out and meet people or stay in if I feel like it. I don’t want to sit on the couch pining or walk on eggshells at the studio,” 

“y/n,” San steadies you, his voice low and calm, “listen to me, okay?” 

“Okay,” You murmur. 

“You have work to do, so focus on it. You have friends, including me, and Woo, and Seonghwa, okay? You come out with us… or don’t,” He smiles and squeezes your hand, “and the studio will feel weird for a little while, but trust yourself, it will fade.” 

“It will,” You nod, “you’re right,” 

He nods, holding your gaze a little longer until he gives you one more squeeze. San shifts back to give you a little space, his hands leaving you and clasping together to hang between his legs. He smiles, “Do you feel any better?” 

“Yeah,” You run your hands through your hair and let out a long, tired exhale. 

“Sobered up?” He checks. 

“Mostly,” You nod, checking your watch, “but it’s so late I’m still going to be feeling it tomorrow,” 

“Mm,” He nods, “we aren’t starting until eleven though,” 

“True,” 

The night is drawing to a close, you can feel it. You don’t really want to be alone with your thoughts again, but you’re also so tired you think you might drop on the spot, so you start to pull away and hope that you’ll be able to fall asleep the minute you hit the pillows. 

He pushes himself up to stand and offers you a hand to help you to your feet, “Should I walk you up?” 

You shake your head, “I got it,” 

“I’ll wait until you get in,” He smiles and nods. 

You make it two steps up before you turn back to him, “Thank you, San,” you tell him, “for everything tonight, really,” 

He smiles wider, his eyes crinkling up and he nods again, “Don’t thank me, just remember what I said.” 

“I will,” 

“And y/n,” He calls after you as you start back up the path, “sleep well,” 

“You too, Sannie,” You give him one last look before you push open your apartment door and start up the steps. He doesn’t budge, making sure you’re in the door before he pulls out his phone and starts his short walk home. 

Coming home this time doesn’t hurt the same. 

You hope for more of the same tomorrow. 

You hope every day that it fades away, little by little. 

oh my ***

Pairing: ateez (ot8) x reader

Summary: Everyone supposedly has a guardian angel, one that’s tasked to always keep their human out of trouble and on the right path of life. But you don’t just have one, you have…eight?!

w.c. 10.2k

Warnings: fluff, angst, near death experiences, threatening someone wooyoung with a bat, cursing, comfort, reincarnation, i think that’s it?

Keep reading

calling ateez babygirl

pairing: ateez x reader

type: reaction (texts)

warning: none

request: yes

————————

Hongjoong:

Seonghwa:

Yunho:

Yeosang:

San:

Mingi:

Wooyoung:

Jongho:

Sunflower

College student!Mingi x Barista!Reader (ft, Yunho)

This earworm was in my head while doing this

Warning: Hanahaki disease au, angst, blood, sick reader, character death, panic attacks, dark

It was a routine day of working at the coffee shop, aching feet and an aching back made you wish that you could book a massage but your finances stared you in the face with a menacing grin.

So you had to tough it out and give the customers your best service with a smile to make their day a little better.

"Thank you! Have a great day!" You smiled cheerily at the last customer that you served. You turned to the next one and nearly fainted when you looked into his face as he towered above you from his side of the counter.

"You're new here!" You quipped and immediately wanted to slap yourself for it, this man was tall and handsome. His bright smile blinding you from the discomfort of the day.

"Yeah, it looks very comfy here." His voice was low and deep, adding to his attractiveness exponentially.

"Yeah, uh what can I get for you?" You asked dizzily, trying not to stare at his gorgeous face as you patted down your barista apron.

"I would like... An iced americano. Two of them, so that I can get to know you better as a returning customer. I'm Mingi by the way." The brightly hued haired male smiled at you again and you immediately turned to get to work on serving the coffee.

"But what if you don't like it here?" You ask softly as you prepared the coffee."Oh I know I will~" Mingi replied confidently with the same radiant smile as before.

You felt bad that he ordered a coffee for you but you wanted to be polite so you accepted it. Seating yourself in a booth across from the giant male.

"I didn't catch your name." Mingi pointed out as he took a drink of his coffee. Your face reddened from embarrassment.

"I'm eh... I'm Y/N..." You plaster on a smile and glanced around the cafe to ensure that there weren't any customers waiting at the moment for you and neither your boss spying you playing hookie on the job.

"Y/N..." Mingi tried your name on his tongue and gave a shy smile that warmed your heart."I'm glad to meet you, Y/N. Your coffee is really good~"

He nodded with a genuine smile and it was your turn to get shy.

"Thank you, Mingi. So what are you up to here?" You ask as you drink on your own beverage.

"Oh, I transferred to another college to finish my semester." Mingi nodded and you chewed at the end of your straw a little.

"Ah, so that's why I haven't seen you before- oh sorry, I have some customers to take care of!" You apologize profusely and stand up after a group of college students breezed into the cafe.

"That's okay, I'll see you next time, Y/N." Mingi replied with a comforting smile that brought another warm feeling bubbling up inside of you that was so foreign but it was welcome nonetheless.

You took care of the the new customers orders efficiently and turned to find Mingi, only to find that he must have left during the time your customers made their transactions.

Disappointment settled within your gut as you went about your work. You had only chatted with him briefly and scarcely got to know him but it already felt like an emptiness within your chest without seeing his gummy smile.

Mentally you told yourself to snap out of it as you chugged down the remainder of your Americano. Going about your work while replaying the interaction with Mingi in the back of your mind.

The following day you saw him again and you felt happiness blossom within yourself again as soon as his hearty laugh and bright smile radiated your senses.

"Hello Mingi~ What can I get for you today?" You failed to restrain your enthusiasm as you faced the tall male.

"I would like the same as before~" Mingi hummed warmly and further set you at ease.

"Americano?" You tilt your head curiously and wait for his reply."Yeah, two of them~ I need someone to drink it with me~" He replied cheerfully while his low voice seemed to sooth your misgivings about taking a moment from work, even though you knew it wouldn't last.

"Alright Mingi, two iced Americanos coming right up!" You chirp enthusiastically and make the coffees, still feeling guilty about him buying you a coffee but he insisted on it stubbornly.

"How has your day been?" You ask after you serve the coffee, seating yourself across from the attractive male again.

"Okay. But better now that someone familiar and friendly is keeping me company~" Mingi smiled warmly and fidgeted with the straw of his beverage.

You gave a warm smile and watched him attentively, feeling comfortable with his company.

"It isn't too hard adjusting to the new environment, but um it's still hard. You're the first friend I've made here." Mingi flashed you another smile and butterflies stirred in your stomach against your will.

"Me? A friend?" You were surprised by him already claiming you as a friend and your heart warmed to hear him admit it.

"I can tell by the way that you serve coffee that you can be trusted." Mingi chuckled heartily as you looked at him with a deadpan expression.

"Is it your scheme to get free coffee?" You joke softly and notice a tint of color blooming on his cheeks.

"Oh, ah no, no no!" Mingi replied hurriedly while visibly flustered by your words.You grin at him. Satisfied by his reaction before noticing his air turn confident.

"Is it working~?" He grins and takes another drink of his coffee. "I couldn't possibly accept free coffee." He giggles and you open your mouth to reply in return, only for someone to interrupt by walking into the cafe.

"I'll be seeing ya~" Mingi smiles at you as you hastily stood to wait on the customer. The words resonated in your mind like a comforting warm breeze.

You already liked him, but he was only here to make friends with you and technically you were only here to serve him coffee. Your eyes wistfully trailed over to the booth that the two of you occupied earlier, only to find it empty.

'Maybe tomorrow I can see him again' A soft voice whispered in your head as hopefulness surged through you. You found his presence addicting and mildly resented yourself for it since most likely in time he would be moving on back to where he had came from.

In fact you had saw him everyday for two months straight and you loved every moment of talking with him.

How his contagious smile lit up your day with little effort and how he always had a way to make you laugh in one way or another. But when he left, you felt as if the warmth inside of you followed.

~~~~~~

You were smiling today and feeling giddy, glancing at the small gift of a 'I get the final word during Finals' coffee mug and ensuring that the note was still inside.

You were so nervous today, having nearly dropped a few cups of coffee before they reached their rightful owners hands because of your anxiousness.

'What if he poured coffee in the mug and didn't see the paper? What if he's not looking to date because of it being a distraction? What if he doesn't like m-' You were interrupted by the swinging of the cafe's door.

You smiled at the incoming customer, but instantly bewilderment followed when you saw tall, dark haired male standing before you and right beside him was Mingi holding his hand.

Something tickled at your throat and you coughed into your sleeve. Quickly you regained your composure and smiled at Mingi and the person that he was holding hands with.

"Good morning Mingi! What would you like today?" You smiled warmly and ignored the light scratching sensation at the back of your throat.

"Two iced Americanos please! I... um, I wanted to introduce you to my boyfriend!" Mingi was absolutely beaming at you with a radiance that sliced through your heart sharper than a razor blade.

"Hi, Y/N! I hope it's okay to address you as such! I'm Yunho, I attend the same arts class as him everyday and I'm so happy I do!" Yunho smiled enthusiastically at you and you nodded politely with the most strained fake smile that you had ever had to endure as you prepared the coffees.

"He never shuts up about you and your coffee, I feel a littllllle bit jealous that you met him before I did!" Yunho teased while Mingi looked down shyly.

"Oh it's perfectly fine! I'm so happy for you both!" You were sobbing beneath a smile as you gave Mingi his order.

You could barely breathe as they walked away to the booth where you and Mingi used to sit, talk and laugh.

The Americano that Yunho had would have been yours but you had no place with Mingi anymore in the way that you had grown to feel for him.

Blindly you went through the motions of making more coffee for the customers that were coming and going frequently throughout your workday. Through your peripheral vision you could see them argue with each other in a way that made you feel even more hurt.

You could see that Mingi was in love and it wasn't you that he felt so strongly for. Sadness shrouded you in a stifling blanket and choked the light from you as you worked. Your eyes dropped to your sleeve that you had coughed into earlier and your brows furrowed at what you saw.

A single large yellow petal decorated the sweater that you wore and baffled you as to where it came from.

Another cough wracked you and made you think that possibly you were sick. It felt likely to you that it could have been the case since it had been a stressful week and your entire world was shattered today to the point that you could barely keep the stinging, threatening tears at bay.

You numbly went through the transaction of your most recent customer, barely remembering that it even happened as another cough aggressively clawed it's way to your throat.

Yunho and Mingi were about to leave and you suddenly remembered something. Quickly you picked up the coffee cup that you had gotten for Mingi, tossing the piece of paper into the trash that you had written on with the intention of asking him on a date.

Quickly you approached Mingi, struggling to keep the coughing sensation restrained as you handed him the coffee cup with a sweet smile.

Mingi looked at you in confusion, taking the cup from your shaking hands while Yunho looked between You and Mingi with an expression that registered that he wasn't getting the situation.

"It's just a gift to wish you luck!" You clarify immediately with a hoarse voice. You felt thankful when another customer came in so that Mingi couldn't question if you were alright.

Once you were finally to yourself you began to cry bitterly. Wailing forlornly as high pitched hiccups wracked your body.

It was only a few minutes a day that you met up with him but you still couldn't figure out why you felt so devastated. You were only a barista who served coffee to him and nothing more.

A wave of nausea struck and you quickly turned to the waste basket where you had thrown the note in amongst used coffee grounds and coffee filters.

You wretched painfully and worried that your boss would come out to see what was wrong during the ruckus that you caused. Sobs mingled with your vomiting and a choking obstruction escaped the confines of your throat and into the waste basket.

Tears clouded your vision as you opened your eyes again finally, heaving to catch your breath when your eyes spied the unmistakable littering of yellow flower petals on the note you had wrote for Mingi.

"No!" You cried out as you wiped the drool from your face, denying the reality of the wet petals that you had just coughed up.

Fear wrapped it's talons around your throat and cut off your breathing, the racing of your thoughts seeming to go on forever as you stared down at the petals.

You coughed again, feeling a sense of sadness well up in your gut as you asked yourself why. Why did you have to fall in love with him? Why couldn't you have protected your heart? Why? Why? Why???

You slammed your fists down and uttered an animalistic sound akin to being wounded before looking up in embarrassment at the regular customer who was peeking over the counter at you.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"

~~~~~

It was the second week of watching Mingi come to the cafe with Yunho, ordering their usual and making you feel wholly left out of their little world together.

You smiled at them when they would look in your direction, feeling every bit as fake as the hydrogenated oil in the coffee creamer that was occasionally requested at the cafe.

Paleness had overtaken your skin and darkness covered the delicate skin beneath your eyes, a masterpiece that screamed out how tired you were.

Midnights were some of the worst time for you, the stems of the flowers that bloomed inside of you had a hold on your heart and caused your organ to fight it.

The thoughts that riddled your mind in the night only allowed the flowers to take stronger hold and make your body their natural habitat as your body's natural defenses attempted to get the offending flora out of your system in the best way it knew how.

Coughing and wretching your brains out until everything physically hurt but still failed to overtake the hell in your heart.

"Y/N? Are you okay? You seem a little off..." Mingi snapped you out of your spaced out daze, his eyes looking as though he genuinely cared about you and it caused another wave of nausea to ripple through you.

"Yeah- just... need the restroom!" You croaked hoarsely and stumbled off to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time to heave out the contents that were the by product of the love that you gained for Mingi.

"Oh my fuck-" You cried hoarsely as you saw the contents in the toilet bowl floating about mockingly, a pink sea that was a eerie backdrop for the whole sunflower that you wretched up and out of your body.

"A whole fucking sunflower-" You cried hysterically and almost failed to hear Mingi coming to check on you.

"Y/N? Are you sick?" The giant male called out in a cautious tone.

Frantically you flushed down the flower and blood, wiping your mouth of the blood stains left behind.

"Yeah I'm- I'm sick..." You murmured sheepishly.

You felt that you could say that much about your unique situation. There was no use in lying about it but there was no reason for him to know why.

You stood at the door of the stall that you were just in and felt regret that you had even told him that you were sick. Because now he was looking at you with puppy dog eyes that made the stems around your heart even more tangled just like your feelings.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Is there anyway that I can help? You should take some time off... You look exhausted." Mingi hummed thoughtfully and you nodded, your throat too raw to even utter a word.

"I will... Thank you, Mingi." You croak and smile at him politely before going off to clock out of work early. You needed to get away from him before you spewed out another flower and would have to come up with with some kind of an explanation for it.

~~~~~~~

More days went by and your condition only worsened. You didn't feel that you would be around much longer but you didn't want to be without a roof over your head when you died, so you went back to work.

The first few days you saw neither Mingi or Yunho and you felt yourself missing their presence. Also you were finding it even more difficult to restrain your coughs but stubbornness fueled you despite the fatigue that cloaked you like a blanket of death's design.

Your heart hurt, your ribs hurt as well as your throat and sustenance rarely stayed down at this point.

~~~~~

Then it happened.

You had just weakly given one of your regulars their order. The excruciating pain in your chest made it difficult to breathe.

It was all more than your body could take as you fell on the vinyl floor, blindly coughing through tears and wretching out yellow petals and what ironically looked like coffee grounds mingled with the mass that spilled onto the floor.

A lazed smile graced your features as you struggled to breathe. The stems having taken hold of your lungs just like love had taken hold of you and wrecked you in all manner.

His face was all you could see, his laugh and voice was all that you heard, and the way that he cared about your wellbeing was all that you could see.

"Y/N?! What the fuck happened Y/N?!" A deep familiar voice sounded alarmed but you weren't sure if you were imagining it as two arms embraced you and tugged you into what felt like a lap but you wasn't sure if you were just imagining it as you slowly slipped away.

Tears filled your eyes as you gazed at the fiery haired male, hallucination or not you were thankful for something to comfort you as your heartbeat faded away.

"What can I do!?" Mingi was distressed as you looked at him through glassy eyes, panic had gripped him and he was horrified to find you in such a deteriorated state.

Tears filled his eyes as you blindly reached out to touch his lips.

"T-the sunflower... My s-sunflower always..." You choke out in a scratchy, nearly inaudible voice as you smiled genuinely for one last time and broke his own heart.

Your emaciated frame went limp in his arms as your throat became obstructed by a cluster of blooms.

Mingi began to cry as the shock settled through him. Wondering if he was the reason. You did say that he was your sunflower? Was he the reason that you died?

Mingi began to yell out to anyone, not aware of anything that he said or did as he gazed down at your lifeless body in shock.

idiot in love. k.yeosang x f.reader 5.7k words (fluff + humour)

“I have an idea!”

“No.”

Yunho, who had just burst into the room with a bright smile on his lips, now stood by the doorway with a pout. His phone is held tightly in his hand and playing a video from what looks like tiktok. A chorus of cheers and gasps comes from the gadget’s speakers and you can’t help but to be intrigued.

“Don’t be rude, Yeosang.” San tosses a candy wrapper at the other’s face, telling him off for crushing the light behind Yunho’s eyes. 

You sit on the pink reclining chair in the middle of the room and look up at your tall friend who had just arrived. Currently, you were waiting for the rest of your friends to get to your guys’ usual hang out spot. A comfy little pool house in the back of Seonghwa’s normal-sized and humble house, or that’s what he likes to call it (you’d rather skip the pleasantries and call it a mansion). It’s a decent sized pool house, as decently-sized as a mansion’s pool house can be, and it’s well decorated.

That’s a lie. 

You know how there’s this big thing with the generation now with aesthetics and styles? Yeah, so if you’d gather all those and smush it into a snowball pile and then throw it against a wall, you’d get the pool house decor. It wasn’t bad! Mingi once said that this is what cluttercore is. And you don’t think that it’s ugly, it’s not the best interior design you’ve done but if you look at it at a certain angle and then tilt your head to the left, then sure, it looks pleasing to the eye!

Actually scratch that. This was all Jongho’s fault! Yeah for sure. He calls himself an interior design major yet he can barely even get this place in check. Yeah, that’s right. How about you shift majors, Jongho?

No… that’s a lie too. Because you know god damn well that Jongho’s no joke when it comes to designing. This mess of a house was collectively everyone’s fault. Why? Because everything in this god forsaken pool house was brought by none other than your group of hooligans. 

Hongjoong had speakers stacked up in one corner along with a keyboard and a 2015 dubstep pad which you highly doubt still works. Beside his mess is another mess, this one is of dumbbells and resistance bands with a pull up bar station and foldable bench (which never gets folded) in between it all. This one was courtesy of your gym rat friends, i.e: San, Mingi, Yeosang and Jongho.

Jongho’s solo corner is most definitely the only aesthetically pleasing and neat area of the whole place. He had set up a little bean bag seat by the door so he could bask in the afternoon sunlight. And beside that was his little guitar stand and trusty acoustic guitar. You remember gifting it to him when he graduated high school; oh the memories of huddling together to gather all your saved up cash from your part time jobs.

Your corner? Well you didn’t exactly have one, per se. You had a habit of hovering around everyone else’s little respective corners and sticking your nose into their business, so you never really saw the need to have your own space. But you had a little pink reclining chair you thrifted in the middle of the room. It was beaten up and the leather was peeling in some spots  but if you covered it with a blanket, then it’s out of sight and out of mind.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. 

You were sitting on your chair with your legs dangling off the arm rest and scrolling through twitter when your friend unceremoniously slams open the sliding glass door and holler about his brilliant idea. San was lying on the rug watching ants march by a cookie crumb and Yeosang was messing around with Hongjoong’s keyboard. Seonghwa was back inside looking for some snacks to share and everyone else was on their way to the pool house.

“What is it, Yun?” You turn to the man and place your phone down onto your chest.

“At least someone cares.” The tall blonde trudges to your side and plops down on the ground beside you. You watch as he shuffles around to get his bum comfortable on the concrete before he shows you his phone screen. Once he’s comfy enough, he leans his chin onto your tummy and starts talking about this one tiktok he saw. 

“So I was scrolling through tiktok and there’s this one that has like thirty million views.” 

San crawls up from his previous spot before kneeling beside your pink chair. His eyes are trained onto the people on the screen as he scurrys closer and leans his chin onto your shoulder. The newest addition to the scene connects eyes for a split second with the man on your stomach before he hums when the video replays again and it vibrates on your shoulder. But you’re not concerned, because your attention was on something else. Rather, someone else.

Yeosang stayed where he was, fingers mindlessly pressing key after key on Hongjoong’s keyboard while his other hand scrolled through his own tiktok. Is he not interested in what Yunho’s showing? Why isn’t he coming closer, you pout inwardly. 

Listen. If you were in his situation and you heard people gasping, you’d have ran all the way to see what was going on. This is not to say that you want Yeosang to come running towards you at any chance he gets, it’s just… Okay you do want him to run towards you whenever the opportunity’s there.

But can you be blamed for having a simple crush on your friend? He is exceptionally beautiful, of course all your friends are beautiful but you just think he has that edge that puts him above everyone else (but don’t tell Wooyoung or else he’ll flip). His large russet irises that just glitter in the sunlight like cold brew on a sunny afternoon. His high cheekbones and the rich red birthmark that sits at his temple. And his voice! So deep with a timber that makes your heart rattle in your chest. Everything about him just had you captured.

“Keep the pda to a minimum please, we have a minor.”

Hongjoong scolds from the doorway, throwing a glance at the other side of the room where Yeosang sat all alone with his equipment. He stands proud on his feet with pottery clay stained sleeves and mismatched socks. No one really knows what Hongjoong does in his free time, but he always turns up with skin tainted in whatever and oftentimes a new hair colour. Behind him stood your other two friends, one bearing a scowl and the other freely giggling at Hongjoong’s words. 

“I’m literally twenty one.” Jongho grumbles, unbuttoning the first couple of buttons of his tan cafe uniform dress shirt. 

“I’m talking about Mingi.” Hongjoong directs a nod at the taller of the three who then yelps out a ‘hey!’.

You and your friends had this little inside joke that Mingi was actually five years old mentally. Not in the sense that he’s dumb (he’s actually the opposite), but rather because of his cute and clumsy nature. For a man of his height, you wouldn’t expect him to be the type of person who makes hand hearts in every photo and calls the colour pink ‘heart coloured’. 

Moving forward, it’s not like skinship wasn’t a norm with your little gang of misfits, it was. Especially with the more cuddlier guys of the bunch, like Yunho and San. So, seeing them getting all cozied up with anyone isn’t all that surprising. 

“Where’s Wooyoung?” You ask, genuinely curious of where the loud one was.

“He went to bother Seonghwa. Probably making those crappy western sandwiches with ham and potato chips.” Mingi responded, making his way to you and peeking at the screen in Yunho’s hand.

“That looks fun.”

-

“Wait, so how does this go again?” Jongho asks, sitting on the ground beside the tray of snacks Seonghwa had prepared. Wooyoung had sneaked in three of those crappy sandwiches that Mingi mentioned onto the tray, and they were all eaten by him too. The rest of you settled on the bowl of salted pretzels and kettle chips.

Yunho downs his can of beer before tossing it to the side (much to Seonghwa’s dismay) and beginning to explain again. He believes this is his eighty-eighth time explaining to the group because none of them are ever listening at the same time!

“So we all put our phones down in the middle and make sure they’re locked.” Yunho demonstrates by placing his phone on the floor with the screen pitch black and reflecting his face. 

“And then we wait for one of them to light up. The person who owns that phone will then have to call their crush!”

Now everyone’s listening. Especially you, reclined on your chair and suddenly sweating. You can feel your fingers start to tremble and your heart beat quicker. Your eyes flicker to Hongjoong who gives you a wicked smile.

Hongjoong’s the only person who’s known about your… affectionate feelings for Yeosang. It’s rather an embarrassing story to recall. You were scrolling through your guys’ group chat and skimming across the recently sent pictures. You guys had just gone on a little beach trip in the middle of summer, yes how anime plot cliche of you, but who’s to judge? Anyway, you had stopped on a particular picture because it had caught your eye.

The sky was a rich blue and thin clouds had been strung out  across it. The horizon sits beautifully between it and the clear blue sea that calmly breaches onto the hot sand. But who cares for that view when you have the perfect view of Kang Yeosang clad in only his swimming shorts, sitting on a beach towel with his hands planted behind him to lean his head back. His hair was dripping with the salty sea water that trickled down onto his skin and pooling in his deep collarbones. 

You couldn’t stop staring. Not with the way his eyes had been shut and his lips hung open in a deep exhale. You were– as what the young ones say these days, quite gagged. The sight of his smooth skin with a light sheen of the sea and the sand that stuck onto his muscular thighs. Oh the things that ran through your mind… 

You wouldn’t have stopped staring if it wasn’t for Hongjoong walking up from behind you and gawking at the picture opened on your screen. In full brightness. Zoomed in on Yeosang himself. 

What’s worse than that was the way he reacted, but that’s a story for another day.

“I’m in!” San happily announces after Yunho explains, immediately fishing his phone out and placing it beside Yunho’s.

And soon, everyone had their phones out and ready to participate. Even you, although it does feel like you’re shitting your heart out of your ass. But what are the chances right? There are nine of you and there’s absolutely no way that your phone out of the nine lights up first. You had about an eleven point eleven percent possibility, so it couldn’t be you.

Yet, why were you so jittery? You know that your chances are low but why do you still feel like running out and diving to the pool by reason of insanity?  God, what’s up with you right now?

“We have to film this.” Wooyoung interjects before the game starts.

Everyone now had their phones laying in a circle right beside the litre of sprite. And honestly, you were kind of anxious, seeing that your phone was the closest to the bottle and might possibly get wet from the perspiration that’s dripping down the green plastic. You had literally gotten that five months ago, had to bust your ass sitting dogs and begging on your knees in front of your parents…

“Idiot how are we gonna film if all our phones will be in the pile?” San delivers a soft smack to the back of the shorter’s head. And now that you think about it, Choi San has been quite violent today. Throwing stuff at people and smacking heads.

“Seonghwa has two phones.” 

You hear Hongjoong call out from opposite of you. His voice was rather bitter, understandable. He, of course, has to live with his crappy little iPhone 6s plus until next month when he’s eligible for a new one from his plan (don’t ask why he hasn’t upgraded in the last– something, years). And his dear best friend Seonghwa is here with two of the latest iPhones tucked into each of his back pockets. But it all comes from a place of banter, though. You know how Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s dynamic is. 

“I’ll get the tripod!” Jongho immediately jumps onto his feet and runs to Wooyoung’s little nook. The latter then complains at how Jongho teasingly scatters his stuff in search of the tripod that’s ‘literally right there!’

When everything’s all set up, everyone huddled on the floor, Seonghwa’s turquoise iPhone perched by the sliding doors, and phones readily on hand, Yunho begins his countdown.

“Okay guys, so we all know what to do, right?” 

A chorus of ‘yes’ erupts from the team and a quiet ‘get on with it!’ sounds from Yeosang, who Yunho throws a pouty glare at.

“On the count of three, we’re all gonna lock our phones and then put them in the middle.”

One.

You have your phone in your hand and your fingers are trembling. You’re honestly so nervous because, fuck. The chances of you being the one chosen is high. Who in the world thinks that one in nine is a low possibility? Definitely not you! That eleven percent was one above ten percent. And in a situation like this? You think that a ten percent chance is still ten too many! 

Two.

You think about backing out, again. Maybe you should smash your phone on the ground and go oops! No… Maybe you could pretend faint and fall face first into the bowl of pretzels. Yes! That sounds– fucking stupid. Come on brain! You yell inside your mind, Think! Think! Think!

Three!

Too late. Everyone’s now clicking their phones shut and you’re left no choice but to follow from the peer pressure. And soon everyone’s phones are back on the ground again. This time, you’re not that worried about the damn puddle of water on the fucking gray concrete. All your mind is racing about is the fact that your life is on the line (okay dramatic much?). 

Your heart is pounding in your ears, and it’s all you can hear. Granted, everybody in the room had shut up in anticipation, but it just made the beating of your heart even louder. Your palms are growing clammy and you can feel beads of sweat forming on your hairline. It feels like millions of years have passed by now, but anyone can tell you otherwise. In fact, it hasn't even been five seconds since your phones were tossed into the ring.

With everyone’s eyes glued onto their own phones, you all waited. For whichever iPhone lights up first. The screens lined up together to perfectly mirror the way the pool water reflects the sunlight into the room. You try to distract yourself with the refracted light that dances on the ceiling, enjoying how they wiggle and float as a result of the pool right outside. It’s crazy how science works. But that distraction barely even lasts a moment before your eyes flicker onto a pair already staring at you. And as you stare into Hongjoong’s dark irises, you’re reminded of the fact that you’re waiting. For one phone to ping with a notification. Waiting. 

Waiting. 

Waiting.

Ping!

There it is. Finally you’re put out of your misery! Your eyes, along with everybody else's, fall onto the glowing screen. And you see the face of Suna Rintarou, Inarizaki High School’s Volleyball Team’s six foot one middle blocker. The same exact picture you have on your lockscreen. A text notification floats into view and it reads:

“Happy Birthday! This is Doja Cat, meow~. I am sending this message from my private number…”

That’s crazy, you think, who gets scam texts from Doja Cat? Haha… Oh.

Panic surges through your veins as it now registers that it was your phone that pinged. It was you who got the Doja Cat scam text. (It’s not even your birthday! Who sends this kind of stuff and how did they get your number?! What?) … And it’s you who has to call your crush right now.

At this point your heart has probably fallen out of your asshole, maybe even crashed through the crust of the earth. You can’t believe that this is happening to you right now. You had only a little over ten percent of a chance on your side yet the universe still pointed its grubby wrinkled finger at you. You’re convinced that you’re the main character of some stupid early afternoon sitcom titled ‘What are the odds?’ or something… Fuck, with a capital ‘F’!

Right after your phone had pinged on, Hongjoong’s crappy banged up iphone six followed suit with a notification from instagram. But it’s too late. Whoever just liked his post was twenty-three seconds too late. You were the chosen one.

The two of you make eye contact once more and his eyes now glitter with mischief. Not only was he saved by the grace of god, but he gets to watch you crumble into dust and debris like the ruins of Parthenon, again! Oh what a splendid day it was to be Hongjoong. What makes this situation even more satisfying (for Hongjoong and not you, oh dear god, especially not you) is what happened a couple days back. And the male who sits across from you can’t help but smile.

For context, it was a lovely Wednesday afternoon. You were lying on Hongjoong’s kitchen counter whining and moping about being single, as per usual. And your friend sits on the newspaper covered floor, painting his cabinets blue. Not even the usual calming sky blue that shows up naturally, no; he is painting his kitchen cabinets an awful shade of neon blue. One that blinds you and leaves a lasting orange mark behind your eyelids when you close your eyes.

“Is this about Yeosang, again?” He had asked you without even looking away from his brush strokes.

You felt your face heat up at the mention of him. You turned your head to look at the man with a pout, which he doesn’t even notice. Again, all his attention is on keeping paint from his precious bronze hinges.

“Maybe…” You responded after a few moments of silence. “And why aren’t you using a big brush like any normal person?”

Hongjoong murmured something along the lines of ‘mind your business’ and then told you to carry on your rambling. So you do. 

“I don’t know! It’s just that… I’ve been silent about my feelings for so long and this is my first time talking about them to anyone, so I’m dumping out a lot of emotions here.”

“Aren’t you glad I found out, then?”

“Fuck you.” You scowled at Hongjoong’s teasing tone pertaining to how he found out. You hate him.

“Like there’s something about him that’s just so charming!” You continued when he gave you no response. “When I first met him he was shy and quiet and so it was like whiplash because his best friend is apparently Wooyoung? I can’t be the only one who was surprised at that. But then… then he started opening up to us and then my perception of him just tumbled from there…”

Hongjoong placed his paintbrush on the floor, soaking the newspaper in blue paint and his focus had moved onto you. The way you talked so nonchalantly, like your feelings for Yeosang were something so familiar to you. The way you absentmindedly wiggled your fingers every time you giggle at a memory of a certain blonde. It was so obvious that your feelings for the man were much stronger than what Hongjoong first sought it out to be.

“He’s just so funny in his own little way. He doesn’t even have to try! Like that one time he was frying an egg and he tried to flip it but then–” You bursted out laughing at the memory. Hongjoong remembered too, the clueless expression Yeosang had after dropping the sunny side up egg on the ground was just hilarious. 

“I don’t know why I like him so much. We’re not the closest of the group– I don’t think I’ve even spent an hour just him and me alone! So it doesn’t make sense to me how I started liking him. I don’t know anything about him that you don’t, and vice versa. It just happened suddenly and now I have uncontrollable feelings for my friend. It’s like fucking cupid just punched me in the gut and went ‘hehe you have feelings now’!”

By now you had your face down on the countertop, muffling your cries onto the cold surface.

“And it’s so frustrating because he has the qualities to be the perfect crush! He’s handsome, funny and kind, but I know that’s not why I like him. Maybe it adds up to why, but it’s not entirely true. I think it’s because he has this aura around him that just had me hooked. It’s like his own angel halo, he’s just so– so… benign!”

“Benign?” Hongjoong finally spoke, he has never met anyone use the word ‘benign’ to describe anyone. Especially you! He did not expect you to pull out uncommon words for this. No hate, he loves you kiss kiss, but you’re the type of person to slap someone in the face and call it flirting. Describing someone as benign was not up your alley. 

“Why don’t you just ask him out then?” He asked you the most obvious question ever.

“What if he rejects me?” And you responded with the most obvious answer ever. 

“You’ll never know unless you shoot your shot.” Hongjoong picked up his paintbrush and went back to painting his cabinets such an atrocious colour. 

You gave him a cocky laugh in response. Pfft– confess? You? It was like telling an elephant to bungee jump, that’ll never happen! 

“But! If I don’t shoot, then I’ll never miss.”

Were your infamous last words, Hongjoong remembers so well. So maybe that’s what makes this entire thing so interesting.

Hongjoong watches you with hawk-like eyes, reading your heart off from your sleeves. Your eyes meet for a quick second before your eyes flit back onto the phone in front of you. The room erupts in hollers and hoots and Hongjoong can’t help but let his eyes drift off to the male who sat two persons to his left. 

Yeosang’s face was undecipherable, that’s all one could say. His eyebrows were raised in the slightest bit as a sign of intrigue. The corners of his lips were neither turned up nor down; they were just neutral. The only telltale sign of interest he’s showing is the upturn of his head as he tries to get a better look at your glowing phone screen. But other than that, you might say he looks indifferent.

But that’s not what Hongjoong sees. Oh no, the older male has his eyes on Yeosang’s closed fists. Watching as they ever so slightly clench when you shakily reach for the gadget. And Hongjoong’s mind is set. He knows now. 

“This is rigged!” You cry with your phone heavy in your hands.

“How?!” Wooyoung screeches from beside you. 

“You rigged it!” You point an accusatory finger at Yunho who flinches and gives you his sweetest most clueless puppy dog eyes. That devil.

“You came here with this idea! This was planned from the start! I am a victim!” You cry, voice getting more deranged as each word flies past your lips. 

And it’s funny, yes, everyone’s glad it’s getting captured by Seonghwa’s phone. But what will be even more fun is when you actually get to the fucking plot of this and call your crush!

“Just call whoever you have to call, y/n!” Jongho says firmly after his own laughing fit. Scary how strict the younger generation is nowadays.

“Do I have to?” You resort to pleading. “Can’t we just go again?” 

They all give you one final stern glare before you finally give up and unlock your phone. With each tap you do, your breathing gets even more shallow. Oh it’s bad for you.

Everyone has their eyes on you, some curious, some teasing, and you just want to die. Dig a hole and die. Eat concrete and die. Roll in barbed wire and die. Anything! Literally anything would be better than you embarrassing yourself. 

So you find the contact and press call. A ring comes from your speakers and it goes silent for a moment. Everybody is on their toes, giggling to themselves and feeling giddy over something that doesn’t even involve them. But can you blame them? They’re all so nosy and always want to be in each others’ business.

The next ring that blares into the room comes from the circle of phones on the floor. A light blue iphone vibrates and flashes, catching everyone’s attention. You’ve pressed your face into your palms, refusing to look at anyone as embarrassment spreads like wildfire on your skin. Just like before, the room has fallen silent again, minus the constant ringing of the still unanswered call. 

Yeosang stares, mouth agape and eyes wide. That’s his phone. There’s no mistaking it. And only he has his notifications set to LED flash which he first did because it annoys Wooyoung. He doesn’t exactly need it, per se, but at this point he’s had his phone set to LED flash for years now that he’d feel empty without it. Back to the scene at hand, Yeosang’s still staring at the call screen.

Everyone was at a loss for words. For multiple reasons, the first one being you having a crush on Yeosang. Wooyoung, at first was about to wail about you not choosing him instead, because obviously he is the better choice (his words). But that soon went over his shoulder when he glanced at the phone on the floor. The second, and more appalling reason to everyone’s disbelief, is that the object of your desires does not even have your number saved. 

“You don’t even have her number saved?!” Wooyoung suddenly breaks the silence and it makes you snap your head up. 

What…? You’re taking blow after blow today, a match with Manny Pacquiao would have had less punches to the gut. Triple Whammy! Or whatever you call it.

“Wow… You’re really…” San speaks up from beside you. “Really, you’re something else.”

The phones finally stop ringing and you hear an automated voice come from your end of the call. You could hardly look in Yeosang’s direction right now, because, face it, him not saving your number? That’s a large blaring neon sign of unrequited affection. And you’re too wrapped up in your own emotions, still frozen in shock, that you don’t notice Yeosang frantically shaking his head and hurriedly blurting out about how it’s a misunderstanding.

“It’s not just, y/n! I don’t have anyone’s numbers saved…” And his voice trails off when realizes that he just made things worse. That does not sound reassuring at all.

“Bro?!” Wooyoung snatches Yeosang’s phone from the floor and holds it up briefly to his best friend’s face to unlock it. The dark haired male finds his contacts list and it’s true. So far all he can see saved are his family’s numbers. Heartbreaking really, because after all they’ve been through?

“Eight years! We’ve known each other for eight years, Yeosang. And you don’t have my number saved?!” Wooyoung’s hysterical, which is somewhat funny. He’s an inch away from mauling his best friend like a bear and Yunho’s tasked with holding him back by the collar considering he’s sat beside the feral man. 

But there’s nothing for you to smile about, it seems like the group had momentarily forgotten about what happened a mere minute earlier. Which, thank god, you don’t want to dwell on that forever. But you are craving a little bit of attention right now, preferably from someone who’ll comfort you or some shit. You don’t know! It’s confusing.

Seonghwa notices the way your fingers pick and pull at the strings of your distressed jeans and he decides he should at least get you out of the room. He spots the empty bowl of pretzels and uses this as an excuse.

“I’m gonna go get more pretzels. Wanna come, y/n?”

You jolt at the mention of your name and you look up to see Seonghwa holding a hand out to you. Which, after you catch on to what his intentions are, you gratefully accept. Now on your feet, you grab the empty bowl and throw a quick smile at the squabbling group of idiots before making your way out. Missing the way a pair of panicked eyes trail after your figure. 

Once in the kitchen, you sigh and plant your hands on the pristine countertops. Actually, last time you were here, Seonghwa’s countertops were steel gray granite. How come the slab in front of you was now a snowy marble. When did his mom even renovate the kitchen?

“Hey, Hwa.” You start when you hear footsteps join you in the kitchen. “When did you get your countertops changed…”

Yeosang is who greeted you when you turned your head. Not Seonghwa.

And then everything’s quiet. Where was Seonghwa? You have no idea. Was he the one who set this up? You’re not sure, but you think so. Will you absolutely abolish him when you get him? Absolutely. 

You don’t know how long you both stand there stupidly staring at each other, but you assume it’s a really long time. You counted about seven bird chirps from outside and approximately three cars had honked as they passed by the road. You think you can see the sunlight moving, or maybe you’ve absolutely lost it. Matter of fact! Maybe that’s not even Yeosang in front of you. Maybe that’s just another one of your crazy hallucinations, that sounds about right. Real. 

Yes, there is no Yeosang in the room.

“So…” 

It talks?! 

The man in front of you starts and you’re startled out of your thoughts. Oh sweet cheese… That’s the real thing. That’s the real human Yeosang… oh great heavens…

“Uhm…” He scratches the back of his neck and sucks a breath through his teeth.

That is a telltale sign of discomfort, you conclude, the psychology major part in your brain puts on her lab coat and pushes up her jacket. Hand on the back of the neck? Head tilted? Avoiding eye contact? Yep, he absolutely despises you. He wants to grab you by the ankles and throw you onto Seonghwa’s incredibly large front lawn like a shot put. Miss Trunchbull style.

Only, you’re studying architecture. 

“This is awkward.” Yeosang speaks again.

“I’ll get the pretzels.” You turn your back and try to find a bag of pretzels, when you know that they’re in the pantry. And the pantry is right behind Yeosang so that means that to get to the pantry you’d have to walk past Yeosang. And you’d rather not get within shot put throwing distance of Yeosang right now! Maybe, you can take an alternate route over the kitchen island and then take the stairs up to the balcony and then jump off into the pool and then walk back in to grab the pretzels. 

Yes. Wonderful.

But, right when you’re about to jump over the marble, Yeosang’s voice pierces through the room.

“We should go get coffee sometime.”

And now you’re rooted in your spot. Because did Yeosang just ask you out or did you just bang your head on the counter in an attempt to run away? 

“I mean like… If you want to!” Panic rises in Yeosang’s eyes because, from his perspective, you’ve been silent this whole time. You even tried to avoid the topic entirely. But, I guess he wouldn’t blame you after the whole thing in the pool house. 

He’s been freaking out since the phone call. First of all, he fully expected San’s or Yunho’s phones to ring because you’re always cuddling with them. Maybe even Hongjoong, you go over to his place often and have a lot of inside jokes and secrets with each other. Who’s to say that you two weren’t secretly harbouring feelings for each other. But, that’s not to say he’s unhappy that you called him. He was just pleasantly surprised. 

He’s not complaining, he thinks you’re cute and he loves your personality. If anything, he’d love to get to know you more, maybe spend some time away from the hooligans you call friends. They always did hog you whenever you hung out. Never gave him the chance to talk with you one on one. Maybe this is his chance?

So, when Seonghwa offered to pull you out of the scene, he decided to take his place. A quick ‘I’ll go’ whispered as he passed by the older male. His palms were leaking by the time he got in the kitchen, standing nervously and bashfully scratching his neck. He genuinely didn’t know what to say. Where should he even start? 

So when he blurts out an invitation to go out, he feels his heart fall into the depths of the abyss. He didn’t mean to say that! He should have de-escalated the situation first, fuck! Now you’re standing there in the kitchen looking at him like he was stupid. He is.

“If you don’t want to then it’s okay.” 

And you just stand there staring, for another good three minutes. 

“Sure.” You finally whisper, eyes wide and dumbfounded, but Yeosang heard it. And it made his heart swell. Sure.

If idiot in love was the phrase, you were the picture.

note: not proofread and it's kinda rushed. ive had this prompt im my drafts for about a year now and i just wanted to let it out.

random mingi thoughts

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mdni, mingixfem!reader, unprotected sex, pet names (princess, love, etc.), oral (m & f receiving), soft sex, mingi (yes he needs his own warning), soft!dom mingi, mentions of size difference, body worship, mingi’s pussy drunk frfr

mingi liked when you came home all tired and worn out. you’d be so exhausted, you couldn’t move past the couch. as soon as you came in the door, you’d plop down onto the sofa with your face stuffed in a heap of pillows. he found this adorable.

mingi would always squeeze next to you, even if the couch was small. he ignored the size difference between you two and would cuddle up behind you, wrapping his big arms around you and resting the back of your head onto his chest. he absolutely loved you and wanted to take care of you whenever he could. he was best at that.

“mingi…” you whined into the pillow, feeling his hands rub small circles into your waist.

“yes, love?” his head perked up behind you.

“can you touch me…? please.” you wrap your arms around the pillow, locking it in your grasp securely. mingi didn’t say anything and slowly pulled down your bottoms, along with your underwear and moving from behind you.

he turned you around so your legs were hanging off of the couch before he knelt down, lifting and resting them on his shoulders. he spread your legs gently and almost immediately dove in, attacking your clit with his lips.

you gripped the pillow next to you with one hand, the other pulling his hair as you moaned loudly. due to not being intimate with him for a long time, you were definitely sensitive.

his hands gripped your thighs as he ate you out. it almost felt like he was making out with your pussy. you reached down and grabbed a handful of his hand with both of your hands, arching your back and moaning loudly. he brought his own hand up and started prodding at your entrance with his middle and ring finger, playing with it for a moment then pushing them inside.

he curled his fingers, rubbing around the sensitive spongey patch at the top and even rubbing directly on it to overstimulate you. he groaned quietly against you, sending slight vibrations through your body.

and then the knot inside of your stomach came undone. you tried to close your legs due to the power of your orgasm but he held them open, licking up the juices that splashed onto his face. you collapsed onto the sofa afterward, breathing heavily with beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

“baby, can i be inside you? please.” mingi sounded as if he was begging. you nodded and be picked you up and off the couch, taking you to your shared bedroom and laying you onto the bed gently.

he wrestled with the waistband of his sweats. you sat up and pushed his hands away, doing him a favor and untying the knot on them. you pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, his erection springing in your face.

you grabbed ahold of him, looking up at him as you licked his tip. he sucked his entire bottom lip into his mouth as he groaned, resting a hand on the back of your head. one thing you liked was how he never pulled your hair, nor did he force his cock inside of your mouth. he let you ease your way onto him.

you finally pushed his entire cock into your mouth, causing mingi to place his other hand onto your head. his hips stuttered a bit as you began bobbing your head, giggling because of the noises he made.

“princess…” he hit you with the pet name. you smiled around him and bobbed your head faster, which caused him to groan louder.

he pulled his hips away, his cock falling out of your mouth with a pop! sound. you lay down on your back and he gets in between your legs, passionately kissing you as his tip poked your clit. you brought your hand down and grabbed his cock, rubbing it up and down your entrance while grinding your hips onto him.

he hummed against your mouth and pushed himself inside of you. mingi placed his arm next to your head, resting on his forearm as he gently stroked your hair. he loved how your face scrunched up whenever he went inside. as for you, you loved how easily he filled you up, how gently he’d move inside of you, and how easily he went in and out.

he groans softly and shoved his face in the crook of your neck, pushing and pulling his hips, his cock going in and out smoothly because of how wet you were. you wrapped your arms around him and held him close.

“m-mingi…” you moaned softly. he kissed your cheek and continued to stroke your hair as he moved in and out.

“let me feel you baby…” he huffed, soon resting his forehead against the sheets as he moved his hips faster. he was so lost in the feeling of your warmth that the noises you made weren’t registering to him immediately. he felt like he was melting inside of you and it felt great.

“i wanna make you feel good, princess.”