Between The Lines

Between The Lines

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: office au, office romance, angst, strangers(?) to lovers, Co-workers to Lovers, fluff towards the end

Summary: Y/n faces unexpected turmoil as she discovers that her new collaboration partner in the office is none other than Kim Mingyu, a figure from her college past associated with painful rumors. As they navigate their professional collaboration, Mingyu's persistent attempts to break through Y/n's guarded demeanor unravel a history of misunderstandings and hurtful rumors.

Warnings: slow burn-ish, reader is bullied in college, puckering of lips against each other, let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: ~3k

My main masterlist

A/N: Happy Carat's Day! This is my first ever fic and I am not sure how this will go. This story is just an idea that has been in my drafts for ages. I hope you like it! Cross-posting it here cause my other account is pretty new and this is not showing up in search results

The harsh hum of the photocopier and the distant murmur of office life formed the backdrop as I stared at my screen, which had just received a notification of an email. The subject line sent a ripple of anticipation through me: "Collaboration Partner Assignment."

Opening the email, my eyes quickly scanned the details. I braced myself for the revelation, but nothing could have prepared me for the name that leaped off the screen – Kim Mingyu. My stomach churned, though I couldn't pinpoint why. Maybe it was the mounting pressure of the project or the unfamiliarity of working with someone from another company. A wave of discomfort washed over me as memories of college days resurfaced, memories I had long buried because of the same name! But it couldn’t be him, right?

I had hoped to leave the shadows of the past behind, but fate had different plans. Mingyu, a name that had once been sY/nonymous with popularity and my own insecurities, was now set to become an integral part of my professional life.

Navigating the familiar hallways towards the designated meeting room, my steps carried the weight of unspoken history. The door creaked open, revealing Mingyu already seated, his eyes lifting from a set of project documents to meet mine. A knowing smile played on his lips, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within me. It was him, Kim Mingyu!

"Y/n, right?" he said, extending a hand in greeting. "I'm Mingyu. Looks like we're going to be partners on this project."

I hesitated for a moment before accepting the handshake. "Yes, Y/n. Nice to meet you."

The sterile hum of the office's fluorescent lights set the stage for a reunion neither of us had anticipated. Mingyu, a name echoing through the corridors of my past, now sat across from me in a conference room. His smile seemed to mock my silent discomfort, reminiscent of college days where he effortlessly commanded popularity, and I existed on the fringes.

"Ready to dive into this project together?" Mingyu's voice snapped me back to the present, his expression oblivious to the tumult of memories that threatened to overwhelm me.

"Sure," I replied, my voice masking the unease within. The corporate battleground was familiar, but the arrival of Mingyu resurrected a dormant storm.

As we settled into the collaborative routine, Mingyu's attempts to get to know me became increasingly apparent. In team meetings, he'd throw casual questions my way, trying to unearth the person behind the professional facade.

"So, Y/n, any exciting plans for the weekend?" he'd ask, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"Same as always," I'd reply, nonchalant. I wasn't one to divulge personal details easily.

But Mingyu was persistent, undeterred by my guarded responses. "Come on, Y/n, there must be something you enjoy doing outside of work. Hobbies? Interests?"

His inquiry probed deeper than the surface, seeking to unravel the layers I had meticulously wrapped around myself. "Not really," I'd brush off, maintaining a stoic demeanour.

In the break room, he'd invite me to join him for a coffee, hoping to chip away at the walls I'd built. "Coffee break, Y/n? It's on me," he'd offer, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

"Thanks, but I prefer working through breaks," I'd decline, my gaze fixed on the computer screen.

Mingyu, always the optimist, remained undeterred by my cool demeanour. "Alright, next time then," he'd say, masking any disappointment that might have lingered beneath the surface.

Our interactions, or lack thereof, became a dance of casual questions met with guarded replies. It wasn't that I didn't notice Mingyu's efforts – I did. The truth was, I had carefully crafted my isolation, and I wasn't eager to let anyone in.

One day, as we reviewed project details, Mingyu tried a different approach. "Y/n, we make a good team, you know? But it would be even better if we understood each other a bit more. What do you say?"

His words held a sincerity that caught me off guard. Maybe it was the vulnerability in his eyes or the genuine desire to bridge the gap. I sighed, relenting just a bit. "Look, Mingyu, it's nothing personal. I'm just here to get the job done."

He nodded, understanding but undeterred. "Fair enough, Y/n. I respect that. Just know, I'm here if you ever want to talk."

The unspoken hurt lingered beneath the surface, but Mingyu never let it show. His attempts to befriend me continued, even if they were met with my persistent nonchalance.

In another attempt to connect, he invited me to a team dinner. "Y/n, we've been working together for a while now. Let's celebrate our progress. What do you say?"

I hesitated, then finally relented, "Fine, but just for a little while."

As the evening unfolded, I found myself in an unexpected situation – Mingyu's infectious charm gradually wearing down my defences. We laughed, shared stories, and for a brief moment, the professional barriers faded.

In the midst of the camaraderie, Mingyu leaned in and said, "See, Y/n? We're not that different after all."

I couldn't help but smile, the walls I had so carefully constructed showing signs of cracking. Mingyu's efforts were slowly paying off, breaking through the layers that shielded me from the world.

As we left the restaurant that night, I couldn't deny the shift in dynamics. Mingyu, once an unwelcome intruder from the past, had become a persistent presence in my present – a presence I was starting to appreciate, even if I wasn't quite ready to admit it.

The echoes of our team dinner lingered in the air as Mingyu and I left the restaurant. Laughter and camaraderie had briefly bridged the gap, but as we stepped back into the office building, I retreated into my familiar shell. The nonchalant exterior was my armour, and I wore it with practised ease.

Days passed, and Mingyu's efforts to break through my walls persisted, but my responses remained unchanged – short, guarded, and distant. The unspoken hurt beneath his eyes grew more evident with each interaction, until one day, frustration etched across his face.

As I sat at my desk, engrossed in my work, Mingyu approached, a determined expression on his face. "Y/n, we need to talk. Meet me in the meeting room in fifteen minutes," he said, his voice carrying a firmness I hadn't heard before.

I raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "Sure, whatever," I replied, my tone as indifferent as ever.

The meeting room, a neutral ground for professional discussions, now became the stage for an unexpected confrontation. As I entered, Mingyu was already there, his arms crossed, and a look of frustration etched across his features.

"What's your deal, Y/n?" he began, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and hurt. "I've been trying to get to know you, to be a good teammate, but every attempt is met with this... this wall you've built. What are you so afraid of?"

I sighed, my nonchalant facade momentarily faltering. "Mingyu, I'm not afraid of anything. I'm just here to work, not make friends."

His frustration bubbled to the surface. "You don't have to make it so difficult, Y/n. We're part of the same team, working towards the same goal. Why can't we at least get along?"

I leaned back in my chair, the familiar defences back in place. "Getting along is not a requirement for getting the job done."

Mingyu's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and disappointment. "It's not just about the job, Y/n. We spend a significant portion of our lives working together. Why make it miserable for both of us?"

His words struck a chord, a brief pang of guilt flickering within me. But I couldn't let him see it. "Mingyu, I have my reasons for keeping things professional. Let's just focus on the project and leave it at that."

He leaned in, his frustration giving way to a determination that mirrored the spark in his eyes. "Fine, Y/n. If that's how you want it, we'll keep it strictly professional. But know that it doesn't have to be this way."

Mingyu's proposal hung in the air, and for a moment, I considered the possibility of a truce – a ceasefire in the silent war that had defined our collaboration. The weight of his words pressed upon me, and I decided to break the stoic facade, if only for a moment.

"Fine," I responded, my tone betraying a hint of resignation. "Let's keep it professional."

As the days passed, our interactions adhered to the newfound agreement. Work discussions unfolded without the previous tension, and the strained atmosphere began to ease. However, beneath the surface, the unspoken distance lingered, a reminder of the unresolved history that bound us.

Late one evening, as the office lights flickered in the waning hours, Mingyu and I found ourselves alone in the workspace. The hum of computers and distant traffic outside seemed to amplify the silence between us. Mingyu broke the quiet, his voice softer than before.

"Y/n, there's something I need to know. The tension between us... is it just about work, or is there something more?" His gaze bore into mine, a silent plea for honesty.

I hesitated, contemplating whether to unravel the layers that guarded my past. In that moment, I decided to breach the unspoken barrier. "It's not just about work, Mingyu. There's history – a rumour that tainted my college years, and I believed you were behind it."

His eyes widened, a mix of surprise and realisation flickering across his features. "Rumour? What rumour are you talking about?"

College, a realm of possibilities, unfolded before me. Amid vibrant campus life, I preferred solitude, finding solace in the quiet corners of the library. My routine, a sanctuary, was disrupted when a rumor about me and Mingyu, the campus heartthrob, began to circulate.

Whispers painted a false picture – a rejected proposal, a scornful comment. The rumor, like wildfire, labeled me as the girl who dared to confess, only to face ridicule. My once-unnoticed existence transformed into isolation as judgmental gazes and hurtful labels became my companions.

The most painful aspect was the misunderstanding – the lie that branded me a loner, rejected and ridiculed. The library, my refuge, now felt like a glass house, the rumor exposing me to the harsh scrutiny of others.

Mingyu, oblivious to the storm, continued his life, while I bore the weight of fabricated rejection. The rumor, a dark shadow, cast a long-lasting mark on my college experience. The isolation, self-imposed or not, became my reality.

"The one where it was said I proposed to you in college, and you rejected me, saying you'd never date a loner like me," I confessed, my voice holding the weight of years of perceived betrayal.

Mingyu's expression shifted from surprise to understanding, a furrow forming on his brow. "Y/n, I never spread that rumor. In fact, I had no idea it existed until now. In fact, I wanted to be friends with you back then and expressed it to some of my friends!"

My defenses faltered as the revelation sank in. The narrative I had carried for years, the resentment that fueled our strained collaboration, crumbled like a fragile facade. "But... why would someone spread such a thing?"

Mingyu's eyes softened with sincerity. "I don't know, Y/n. But I promise you, it wasn't me. I regret that you went through that, and I wish I could've been there to clarify things."

The weight of the misunderstanding hung heavy in the room. Mingyu's admission brought forth a vulnerability I hadn't expected, and the unspoken tension that defined our collaboration began to unravel. As we navigate the murky waters of our shared history, the silence transformed into a hesitant dialogue.

"Maybe," he began, choosing his words carefully, "we can move past this together. Start anew, without the burden of misunderstandings."

In the quiet office, Mingyu and I shared a moment where words seemed unnecessary. His hand found mine, a gentle intertwining of fingers that spoke volumes. Leaning in, he kissed me with a tenderness that felt like an unspoken apology.

The kiss was slow, each movement deliberate, as if time itself had slowed down. Mingyu's lips met mine in a dance of connection, a soft exploration that conveyed a shared understanding. It wasn't just a kiss; it was a promise – a promise to let go of the past and embrace the possibility of something new.

As our lips lingered in the gentle exchange, the weight of misunderstandings lifted. Mingyu's touch, comforting and sincere, became a bridge that spanned the distance between us.

The air shifted after the shared kiss, the unspoken tension replaced by a newfound understanding. Mingyu, eyes reflecting a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity, gently pulled away, creating a space for words to bridge the lingering gap.

"Y/n," he began, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments, "there's something I'd like to propose."

I met his gaze, a silent invitation to continue.

"How about we take a step into the present? Leave the office behind for a while, just you and me. What do you say to a dinner? A date, maybe?" Mingyu's words hung in the air, a simple yet profound invitation.

The corners of my lips twitched into a hesitant smile, the remnants of the emotional whirlwind we had just weathered. "A date?" I echoed, the word carrying a hint of both surprise and curiosity.

Mingyu nodded, his eyes holding a hopeful gleam. "Yes, a date. No work, no misunderstandings – just two people sharing a meal and getting to know each other beyond the confines of the office."

The idea, once foreign, now seemed like a welcome proposition. A chance to rewrite the script, explore the uncharted territories of this evolving connection. "I suppose a dinner sounds nice," I conceded, the tension replaced by a sense of openness.

His face broke into a radiant smile, the lines of relief and excitement mingling. "Great! How about tomorrow night? I know a place not far from here. Casual, nothing too fancy. What do you think?"

Tomorrow night – a prospect that carried the promise of a fresh beginning. I found myself nodding, the corners of my own lips forming a genuine smile. "Tomorrow night sounds good."

Mingyu's joy was palpable, and as he pulled out his phone to exchange details, the office surroundings seemed to fade into the background. In the quiet aftermath of a shared kiss, the invitation extended marked a turning point – a step away from the weight of the past and into the possibilities of the present.

As we finalised the plans, Mingyu's gaze held a promise – a promise of a date that transcended the ordinary, a date that hinted at the potential for something more. The unspoken tension that had defined our collaboration was replaced by the anticipation of a shared meal, laughter, and the uncharted journey that lay ahead.

“Choi Seungcheol must die” Chapter 37 + Written Chapter

Masterlist

📌chapter tags: SMAU, inspired by “John tucker must die”, John tucker!seungcheol, college au, revenge fic, written chapter (3.9K w.c), THE TRUTH FINALLY COMES OUT, some more closure and lots of it, some revenge that doesn’t have to do with seungcheol, tenderness, kissing, and who knows???????

taglist: @silvsie @christinewithluv @stayinhellevator @aiforyuu @2youngsworld @justcruisingalonguntilbamkpop @asyre @simpxxstan @anzellll @hipsdofangirl @plskillme22 @lirtha97 @lixiel0ver @notevenheretbh1 @leah-rose03 @woozarts @expensive-idiot @doveblackboat @the-boy-meets-evil @tamakis-bbyy @freshdetectivenight @mrsdacherry @smilechannie @alltheshineofthestars-blog @ocyeanicc @horanghaezone @wonuqrtz @leewonkyeom @horangboosadan @kkooongie @myghobi @wonunuwoo @wonwootakemyheart @shuasunshine @dinonuguaegi @ckline35 @miriamxsworld @itsokaytobedumb00 @seokgyuu @nishloves @bmkgemz @conwunder @kawaiimusiccollection @humankimbap @ashes23 @writingbarnes @strawberryya

Nestled at a table in the café where you once plied your trade, you relish a refreshing vanilla cold brew,  your contemplative thoughts weaving a delicate tapestry as you anticipate his arrival. Your fingers trace patterns on the table, and a deep exhale signals your nervous anticipation.

The entrance chimes echo through the space as he enters, concealed beneath a dark hoodie. A subtle smile plays on his lips as he allows the door to close behind him. You offer a wave, inviting him to join you.

His steps, obscured beneath the loose ends of his dark hoodie, carried him to the table. "Good to see you didn't back out, Seungcheol," you greet, observing a hint of vulnerability in his lowered gaze.

The hood is removed, revealing his face, complexion tired but still unbearably attractive as always—if not more with the rugged 5 o’clock shadow kicking in. "You want to talk; let's talk," he responds, a mixture of determination and uncertainty in his tone, taking a seat.

You push his pre-ordered drink towards him, the Cherry Chocolate Chip Frappuccino. Tapping against the plastic cap, you remark, "Your usual, right?" He accepts it with shaky hands, the tip of the straw meeting his lips as he consumes the drink. A small sigh escapes him, and you can see relief washing over him, as if the concoction holds the solace he needs for the day.

"Fuck, I haven’t had one of these in a while."

Your fingers tap rhythmically against the worn wooden surface of the table, creating a subtle percussion that echoes your internal restlessness as you look expectantly in his direction. The soft hum of conversations around the café becomes a distant backdrop to the tension building between you.

Seungcheol sighs, a heavy exhalation that seems to carry the weight of unspoken emotions. He sets his drink aside, the condensation forming a small pool beneath it, out of view. His gaze fixates on you, and there's a subtle darkness in his eyes, a shadow that lingers, hinting at a mix of disappointment and distaste that you could only discern through the piercing intensity of his stare. The unspoken words seem to hang in the air, adding an extra layer of complexity to the already charged atmosphere.

"You moved on really quickly," he finally utters, the words landing with a weight that hints at a sea of emotions beneath the surface. The air thickens as the unspoken history between you both comes to the forefront, and the café's ambiance seems to fade, giving space to the brewing confrontation.

Softly scoffing, you take a sip. "As far as you know, I did."

"You made me look like an idiot.”

You nod, a subtle smile on your face and a glint of mischief in your eyes. "That I did."

"Sounds like it was on purpose? Was it?" he questions, leaning in slightly.

"Yes. That’s what I fully intended," you reply with unwavering confidence, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Why? What did I do to you?"

"It didn’t matter what you did to me," you assert, a spark of defiance in your eyes. Leaning forward, you continue, "It’s what you’ve done to probably hundreds of girls on campus and off. You treated them like they were disposable. You made them feel like shit."

As your words spill forth, your fingers assertively drum a rhythmic beat on the table, accentuating the gravity of your confession. The air between you crackles with tension, a deafening silence that reverberates through the intimate space, subtly underscored by the muted notes of the mood music playing in the background. 

He eases into the weight of your words, a subtle surrender reflected in the tightening of his grip. Each word you've uttered sinking into the space between you two and festering in to his flustered heat. Finally, his physical response becomes a silent acknowledgment, expelling a light sigh.

"So I was made to make you feel like shit,” you conclude. “Looks like it worked."

He nods briefly, his demeanor now carrying a hint of despondency. "So. You banded with a bunch of heartbroken girls to humiliate me?"

"No, but I did band up with some of their brothers and friends." You lean in, your expression carrying a mix of resolve and an edge of warning. "You're lucky you ended up this way; they wanted to beat the shit out of you."

"Fair enough…" He leans back, a subtle admission of defeat. "What were you supposed to get out of this?"

"...Not the point. What matters is that you got a taste of your own medicine."

"Okay, let me know this. At any point, did you ever have feelings for me? Even for a second?"

You chuckle, a cynical smile playing on your lips. "Maybe a second...then I came to my senses." The air thickens with the weight of unspoken emotions as you hold his gaze, a silent challenge in your eyes.

The corners of his mouth curl into a smile, carrying a hint of pride. "I knew I still had it in me."

You roll your eyes, a dismissive gesture, as you were crossing your arms. "For the briefest second, until I learned about Haru."

Seungcheol's eyebrows furrow as he leans forward, a quizzical expression on his face. "You knew about Haru?"

"You broke her heart, gave her false hope just to get her in bed again, all while trying to get with me."

"Wait, while pursuing you? My eyes were only on you the entire time we've known each other.”

The look in your eyes shifts, a subtle skepticism emerging, as you tighten your arm cross. "Sure. And I should believe that why?"

He scoffs proudly and retrieves his phone, fingers tapping on the screen to bring up undeniable proof. The dates of his last contact with Haru unfold before you, and a puzzled expression crosses your face realizing the validity of his words. The timeline presented predates the commencement of this scheme, each dating back to a time before you’ve ever came across one another, solidifying his case.

You scoff, leaning back into your chair. "Alright, I'll give you that, but it doesn't erase what you did. Not just to Haru."

"Okay, so I'm a piece of shit that doesn't deserve happiness, is that it?"

A wry smile plays on your lips. "You said it, not me."

He slouches in his seat, tucking his phone back in his pocket, while a weariness settling into his posture. Bringing a hand over his eyes, he shields them from the harsh café lighting. "Okay, I can accept a loss," he concedes, the words laced with a touch of vulnerability. 

He asserts his attention back to you, determination oozing out of his eyes. "It won't change the fact that I developed feelings for you. That I've liked you since the first time I met you," he admits, speaking, with almost with what almost sounds like a lump in his throat, "or the fact that you had this chokehold on me.”

The admission hangs in the air, a raw and unguarded glimpse into his subconscious and pity seeps out of you. It takes you a few moments to realize behind this overly confident man is a person filled with hope, simply blinded with the luxury of option, now taking it upon himself to take upon his own hands—not the offers of the world—to forge his own path, using sheer audacity.

“Oh, Seungcheol…that wasn’t me,” you say blatantly. “That girl didn’t exist. She was a fake with the only purpose to fool you. I wasn't anybody before this. Just any average college student,” you shrug. “Sorry to break it to you but you fell for a facade. It’s time to let that go and get a move on with your life.”

"But she did exist,” he insists, disbelieving your dismissal, “that girl was you. Everything you told me to make me fall for you all came from your mouth, your attitude, your cadence. It was all you. If that wasn't you, it was a version of you.”

“Because I played a part. I was seducing you to hurt you,” you emphasize.

“And it worked! You could get anyone you want if you tried. That's what's similar about us.”

His words take you by surprise, settling in your system like a big pill, hard to swallow.

“But,” he adds noticing your disgusted expression, “I guess instead of being someone like me, use the influence on the person you really want. I may be just some big dumb jock to you, but I can’t deny my feelings no matter how hurt I felt. I was only hurt like that because it came from you, someone I wanted to earn respect from. So, if you can help it, make it possible with whoever it is you have in mind.”

For the first time, a nuanced vulnerability graces his demeanor, and your defenses yield to this subtle unveiling of humanity beneath his big ego. Your gaze, now keenly observant, reflects a tempered curiosity as you pose the question, "Why aren’t you like this with anyone else?”

He smiles warmly, cheesingly tucking his bed hair behind his ears. "Because I haven't felt for anyone else the way I felt for you...or maybe I'm saying all this because that's how badly I want—"

"Shut up." you rudely interrupt with an underlying chuckle. “I already know what you’re about to do. Nice try.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, undeterred. "Fine. At least I got my closure. Just…do what’s right for you, even if it's my brother."

"Your brother?"

"You know. Chan."

"Hey! I didn't know you were coming."

"Chan, you dick!" The words burst out, and you toss your tote bag in his direction. He catches it effortlessly, eyes as big as saucers, startled like a deer in headlights. "Woah, what did I do?"

"Um, I don't know," you say, exaggeratedly shrugging, a touch of sarcasm in your tone, "maybe keep something as big as 'YOU'RE SEUNGCHEOL'S BROTHER' a secret?"

Chan blinks, a flicker of realization crossing his face. "You found out. Well, shit."

"Well, Chan, you owe me an explanation." Crossing your arms, you tap your feet impatiently.

Chan lets the door shut behind him, his approach measured and expression unamused. He prepares himself for the rehearsed spiel, his narrative he's recited too many times to count whenever someone does happen to find out the so-called thing that should be trivial. "We're half-brothers. It all started when his mom married my dad. It was after a messy divorce, but being too young to understand things, Seungcheol followed his mom everywhere, and then I was born—"

"Skip to the present,” you said waving your hands before he could finish his tangent. “Please. How could you not tell me that he was your brother–did they all know? Was I—"

"No. No one knows," Chan's eyes dim as he walks away, claiming a spot on the couch, "except Haru, now you." The revelation hangs in the air, casting a somber tone over the room.

You follow suit, occupying the space beside him. Your eyes lock onto his, a subtle hint of betrayal in your gaze. "But you kept it from everyone. Even me?"

"Especially you." He meets your gaze, responding before glancing away briefly. His fingers fidget with a loose thread on hisshirt, a physical manifestation of the internal turmoil. "It's like throwing fire on fire."

"Fuel to the fire."

"Not the point."

"But so utterly wrong." You inject a hint of wry humor into the words, a subtle acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation. The room, previously heavy with tension, lightens momentarily in your comedic timing.

"No one needed to know. I liked it that way. I wouldn’t have to follow under my big brother's shadow all the time—the athlete, the scholarship guy, the golden child. We were already plotting our revenge against him. I wanted to get back at him just as much as you guys. I didn't need you all walking on eggshells around me just because we're related."

You plant a palm against your chest. "I wouldn't have. I would've wanted to understand you. And the girlfriend, that's supposed to be Haru, isn't it?"

He laughs bitterly, wallowing in self pity. "One of the few things many people were wrong about. I get it, though. I pretty much followed her everywhere like a puppy. Easy to misunderstand."

"…And you still like her?"

He grins. "Liked, yeah. It broke my heart when I found out they got together, but she seemed happy. I only ever wanted to make her happy, and if that meant my brother, then okay. At least I'd still get to see her…When she found out about the cheating, she distanced herself, and it was harder to see her.” He speaks solemnly, reliving the memories as if they were yesterday. “Even if we look nothing alike, I'm sure I reminded her of him."

A pause hangs in the air, and you seize the moment to gather your thoughts. "You are so much more than your brother," you assert, your gaze unwavering and resolute.

"I know that now," he says, his fingers intertwining with yours, caressing over your knuckles. The touch is gentle, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort in your presence. "You helped with that. And I couldn't be more grateful."

You laid your other hand over his. "I'm glad you're better. Genuinely."

His eyes trace over your face, gently admiring your features, particularly your sincere smile that never fails to flatter you. A sense of happiness washes over him as he realizes how fortunate he is to have met someone like you. "I know you are.”

Pulling you into a warm embrace—the kind that conveys unspoken sentiments/-your hair nuzzles against his warm cheeks. "Which is why you deserve the best right now. Especially with what you're about to have on your plate."

Your brow furrows, not taking away from your return of the gesture. "What is that supposed to mean?"

“Nothing.” He chuckles, the rich sound resonating against your ear like a subtle melody. He pulls away form the embrace to direct you to the door, but not without your resistance against the tiles. “God, go before I can't take it anymore. Leave before I kiss you, please."

"Haha. Very funny. You haven't kissed me in what–a week? You think you’ll—"

Before you can finish, he interrupts your words with a spoken promise and you succumb, melting on the spot. Moving against you like fresh water down a stream, his hand cradles your cheek, teeth grazing the bottom of your lip. It's a moment reminiscent of everything you've experienced together for the first time yet distinctly different, a silent acknowledgment that this would be the last time he’s be able to kiss you like this. Warmth, care, a profound sense of gratitude—layers upon layers melded into the union of your lips, forming a rich mosaic of emotions that only the two of you could truly comprehend in this singular moment.

Finally, he releases you, gently guiding you towards the exit. Leaning against the door frame, his eyes sweep over you, a sly grin playing on his lips. He teasingly sinks his teeth into the cushion of his kiss-swollen lips. "Yeah, I do. Now go."

Rolling your eyes, the playful banter still dances in the air, leaving you slightly light-headed from the lingering effects of the earlier liplock. "Fine. I'll see you next week."

He nods, finally letting you go.

The door closes with a soft click, its resonance fading into the room, leaving behind an atmosphere charged with a delicate blend of ease and contentment. As it seals shut, Chan discerns your gentle withdrawal, the remnants of the tender moment clinging to him like a poignant tableau preserved within the confines of a closed locket, a crystalline portrayal of shared emotions eternally sealed in the cavities of his memory.

"This is good, Chan," he murmurs to himself in reassurance. The room, now a haven of quiet contemplation, bears the lingerance of your history of your warm–and at times scorching–alliance, each detail etched into the fabric of furniture or plastered against these thin walls. “We did the right thing.”

Chan's declaration gains further clarity as you peruse your unread messages, deciphering the unspoken messages buried between the lines of the texts from the remnants of your former scheming team. Uncertain of how to navigate through their words, you can't help but notice the eerily close timing of their delivery, how impeccable they were.

Despite the initial confusion, you manage to piece it together, promptly responding to each message before making your way home.

As the appointed meeting time looms nearer, you meticulously dress, each step carrying a weighted sense, your nerves palpable in the charged atmosphere. The ticking of the clock becomes an almost rhythmic backdrop, a constant reminder of the impending event. Repeatedly checking the time transforms into a subconscious coping mechanism, each glance at the clock inching you forward in anticipation of the approaching footsteps that will soon reach the door, setting the stage for your path to the designated seat. Each second feels like an eternity, the quiet room amplifying the subtle sounds of your anticipation.

Finally, the door swings open, the subtle creaking sound echoing in the room as it reveals a solitary pair of approaching steps before came another, their distinct resonance filling the space. Seokmin and Mingyu exchange glances filled with a mix of confusion and bewilderment, their expressions mirroring the unspoken curiosity lingering in the air. Their gazes then gravitate toward you, and in that brief moment, the weight of anticipation is clear as crystal. Without hesitation, both Seokmin and Mingyu swiftly traverse the distance to your side, their movements synchronized like a carefully choreographed dance. The atmosphere thickens with the unspoken tension and anticipation, creating a moment suspended in time.

"Y/n?" Seokmin begins, a questioning note in his voice. "What's going on?"

"Yeah. I thought it'd just be the two of us," Mingyu interjects, "Like we planned?"

"Okay," you declare, clapping your hands together. "Clearly, something is going on that both of you are feuding over, and I'm here to settle it in person, right in front of both of you."

Seokmin awkwardly smiles. "Are we that obvious?"

"I'm sure she figured it out when you decided to go P-E-to the-T-T-Y on me."

"Do not use a catchy song to attack me."

"Shush," you interrupt them with a stern gesture, like a kindergarten teacher silencing unruly children. Your gaze pierces through the air, demanding attention. "Okay, fess up. Why are you both attempting to bribe me with these elaborate outings? What do you both want?"

Mingyu blinks. "Uh, Y/n?"

"Mingyu, don't act all confused," you assert, "I will not be caught in the middle again. This time I will mediate. Literally, what's up? What are you guys even trying—"

"Y/n," Seokmin intervenes cautiously, closing the distance between you. "We like you. We both have feelings for you."

"…what?”

They both chuckle, savoring the utter shock on your face. Mingyu nods, a subtle agreement in his eyes. "That's why we both called you out, to talk this out with you to see if you felt the same for either one of us."

"…So, you're telling me you want to send me into cardiac arrest?"

They both are taken aback, displaying grand gestures of defense. "No, no," Seokmin assures, his voice calming. "Take your time; we can wait. I'm sure this is a lot."

"We just thought to lay it out there, thought it was better than keeping it from you."

You suck in your breath. "You guys know this timing is insane, right?"

"We noticed," they answer simultaneously, guilt washing over them.

"But I can just give my answer right? Like right now?"

They're both pleasantly surprised and equally concerned by your response, observing how swiftly you adapt to the dual professions of interest. "I mean if you want—"

"—But there's no pressure."

You rapidly blink, assimilating into the unexpected situation thrust upon you. "Oh, but I do. So, uh. I guess—"

The Library of Illusion :: Cult of Dionysus Event

Welcome to the Library of Illusion. A place where legend and reality go hand in hand.

Enter each section if you dare. Your task is simple: collect the keys to unlock the Restricted Section and find the treasure hidden within. Will you suceed?

Updates at 7PM CST on Wednesday and Friday.

➥ ateez ot8 × fem!reader

summary: After finding a box full of information on the infamous Library of Illusion, something only spoken about in her childhood, and the hidden treasure it contains, Y/N decides to track down the library and find out if the rumors are true.

genre/themes/au: non idol au, fantasy, science fiction, horror, history, crime/mystery, adventure, supernatural themes, slight biblical & demonic themes

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content (mdni 18+), elements of bdsm, female reader × ateez, see each part for further warnings

a/n: this has been a long time coming. I'm so excited to finally be able to unveil this event as we've been holding onto it for a while now. Please make sure to check out the other wonderful works by the other writers on this masterlist!

Thank you so much for reading, as always this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. Banners made by me with help from a template made by @imlevis. All my works are ©️ kwanisms. If you enjoy these works please reblog!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasdollie

join my taglists: permanent | ateez.

»»» E N T E R «««

»»» E N T E R «««

»»» E N T E R «««

»»» E N T E R «««

»»» E N T E R «««

»»» E N T E R «««

»»» E N T E R «««

»»» E N T E R «««

»»» E N T E R «««

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

The Witch & the Lamb ⛧ Of Saints & Hellfire ⛧ The Library of Illusion

↬ dive into the backstories of the Demon & and the Keeper of Keys to learn how Hongjoong became a demon, why Seonghwa made a deal to become a vampire and how the Library of Illusion came to be. »» coming soon

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Epistles of Love - Part One

Summary: In a charming and new suburb, y/n stumbles upon cryptic letters from Woozi, unveiling a tale of love and heartbreak. As the past unfolds through Woozi's words, will y/n risk her heart to uncover the secrets hidden within each carefully penned letter?

Genre: Romance, Mystery, Suspense, and Contemporary Fiction.

Trope: Slow-Burn, Strangers-to-lovers?

Main Characters: afab!y/n , Woozi, Amour( real names will be revealed later)

Supporting Characters: Svt members

Word Count: 8.7k

<Teaser | Part Two>

The sun dipped below the horizon, its final golden rays painting the sky with hues of pink and orange as y/n's car glided into the heart of the town. The last remnants of daylight cast a warm and welcoming glow over the cobblestone streets, creating an enchanting atmosphere that seemed to embrace her arrival. As y/n maneuvered through the quiet streets lined with charming boutiques and cozy cafes, her heart pulsed with anticipation. The town's architecture told tales of a bygone era, each building standing as a testament to the rich history woven into the fabric of the community. It was a place where time seemed to move a bit slower, allowing moments to linger and stories to unfold at their own unhurried pace.

She couldn't help but marvel at the unique charm that had drawn her here. The decision to embark on this journey, to leave behind the familiar and embrace the unknown, had been fueled by a cascade of positive changes in her life. It was a decision made not out of necessity but out of the desire for a fresh start, a chance to breathe new life into her days and redefine the narrative of her story.The beauty of the town unfolded around her like the pages of a storybook, promising a fresh beginning filled with endless possibilities. The streets whispered tales of community, of shared laughter echoing through the air during town festivals, and of the bonds formed over cups of coffee in the local cafes.

With every passing moment, y/n found herself captivated by the allure of this place, where the past and present danced together in harmony. It was a town that cradled dreams and whispered promises of a future yet to unfold, a canvas waiting for her to paint it with the colors of her own experiences.

As the car rolled to a gentle stop, y/n took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers that adorned the nearby gardens. The decision to start anew in this picturesque haven held the weight of hope and the excitement of the unknown.

As she parked in front of her new house nestled in the heart of the small town, y/n took a moment to immerse herself in the serene atmosphere that enveloped the charming neighborhood. The air, crisp and tinged with the fragrance of blooming flowers, carried promises of a welcoming community that seemed to echo through the gentle rustle of leaves in the nearby trees. The house, an abode with a charming facade and a small garden adorned with vibrant blooms, exuded a timeless appeal. Its welcoming aura resonated with the spirit of the close-knit town, where each residence seemed to share secrets with the other, and every garden whispered tales of seasons gone by.

As y/n stepped out of her car, the gravel beneath her shoes crunched softly, harmonizing with the rhythmic chirping of distant crickets. The exterior of her new home stood as a canvas awaiting her personal touch, and the small garden invited her to explore its hidden corners, where sunlight dappled through the leaves, creating patterns on the ground. The sense of serenity was palpable, a gentle undercurrent in the air that whispered tales of community bonds and shared stories. The anticipation of creating a life in this charming haven mingled with a touch of nervous excitement, like the fluttering of butterflies in the stomach. Each step toward the entrance carried her closer to the heart of her new beginnings, the unique blend of emotions creating a symphony of anticipation, nerves, and the promise of an inviting community.

As y/n entered the charming garden of her new house, the air was filled with the sweet aroma of blooming flowers, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees. She noticed a lean figure standing amidst the blossoms, a bit of long hair framing his angelic features. The sunlight played through the foliage, creating a soft halo around him. Captivated by the scene, y/n approached the young man. As he turned with a warm smile, extending a hand, she couldn't help but be surprised by his youthful charm. "Hello there," he greeted. "You must be the new resident. I'm Jeonghan."

Y/n, momentarily taken aback, shook his hand, feeling a warmth that seemed to transcend the physical touch. "I'm y/n. Nice to meet you," she replied, her gaze momentarily lingering on his captivating features. Jeonghan, with an amused glint in his eye, guided her attention to the garden. "I thought I'd give the flowers a bit of company today," he chuckled. "Welcome to your new home. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."

As they chatted amidst the vibrant blooms of the garden, Jeonghan shared stories about the town's history and the close-knit community that y/n was now a part of. The sunlight dappled through the leaves, creating patterns on the ground, and the gentle hum of bees added a melodic undertone to their conversation.

Y/n, engrossed in Jeonghan's animated storytelling, couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie building between them. The beauty of the town seemed to unfold not just in the physical surroundings but in the genuine connections that were being forged.

Amidst the exchange of anecdotes, however, y/n's thoughts momentarily drifted. She had expected a more seasoned figure as her landlord, someone with a stern demeanor and perhaps a few more years etched on their face. Instead, Jeonghan appeared more like a friendly neighbor, his youthful charm challenging the conventional image she had envisioned.

Caught in a moment of introspection, y/n realized her preconceived notions were swiftly changing. "I must admit, Jeonghan, I had a different mental image of my landlord," she confessed with a playful smile, her eyes betraying a hint of surprise.

Jeonghan, with a chuckle, responded, "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

Y/n laughed lightly, "Maybe someone a bit more… seasoned? No offense, of course!"

Jeonghan, with a good-natured grin, waved off her concern. "None taken. I get it. People usually expect a grizzled old landlord with a set of keys that they have seen for a few decades. I'm here to break the stereotype, I guess!"

The two shared a friendly laugh, the atmosphere lightening with the ease of their banter. "Well, you've certainly succeeded," y/n admitted, her initial surprise giving way to genuine appreciation for the unexpected charm of her landlord.

Jeonghan, with a twinkle in his eye, replied, "Glad I could keep you on your toes. It's always good to defy expectations, don't you think?"

Noticing her brief pause, Jeonghan waved towards the next block, his residence. "By the way, I live just over there. If you ever need anything, feel free to knock. We're practically neighbors!"

Y/n, realizing her oversight, blushed and chuckled nervously. "Oh, I see. Thank you, Jeonghan. I appreciate the warm welcome."

Jeonghan, with a pleasant smile, said, "No problem at all. Enjoy settling in, and if there's anything you need, just give a shout. See you around the neighborhood!"

As Jeonghan strolled back to his own house, y/n couldn't help but smile at the unexpected charm of her new landlord. The encounter marked the beginning of a unique connection, not just as resident and landlord, but as neighbors sharing the beauty of the small town.

Absolutely, that makes sense. Let's adjust the details accordingly:

Upon unlocking the door to her new house, the worn key turning smoothly in the lock, a wave of contentment washed over y/n. The creak of the door as it swung open echoed a welcoming invitation, and she stepped into the foyer with a heart full of anticipation. The space, though unfamiliar, seemed to cradle the promise of countless possibilities, like a blank canvas waiting to be adorned with the strokes of her life.

The muted sunlight filtered through lace curtains, casting a warm glow that danced across the polished wooden floors. Y/n's footsteps echoed softly as she wandered from room to room, each one unveiling a unique charm. The living room, with its cozy fireplace and inviting couch, whispered of evenings spent in the comforting embrace of a good book or the laughter of newfound friends.

In the kitchen, the scent of fresh paint mingled with the promise of home-cooked meals yet to be prepared. Y/n ran a hand along the cool countertop, imagining the aroma of spices and the clinking of utensils in a lively dance of culinary creativity.

The bedroom, adorned with sunlight filtering through sheer curtains, beckoned with the promise of restful nights and the dreams that would unfold within its sanctuary. As y/n traced her fingers along the frame of the bed, she envisioned the comfort it would offer after long days exploring the town.

Yet, amidst the freshness of new beginnings, there lingered a subtle hint of the previous tenant—a gentle reminder of the life once lived within these walls. It was not a trace left in neglect, but rather a presence woven into the very fabric of the home. Stickers adorned the fridge, each one telling a story of groceries, meal plans, and the simple joys of daily life. The bookshelf bore the imprints of well-loved volumes, each one a literary companion that had once filled the room with tales and adventures.

As y/n explored each room, she discovered these subtle touches that whispered stories of the person who lived here before. The cozy notes on the kitchen chalkboard hinted at favorite recipes, and the worn-in couch in the living room seemed to carry the imprint of shared moments. The house, though now hers, bore the echoes of another's life in a way that felt more like a warm introduction than a lingering intrusion.

With each discovery, the sense of gratitude deepened, and y/n couldn't help but feel a connection to the stories embedded within the walls. It was a reminder that, in the dance of new beginnings, there was beauty in acknowledging the echoes of the past and embracing the shared history that made this house not just a dwelling but a place to call home. She sighed thinking about all the boxes now she has to move from her car to her new home!

As y/n wrestled with the weight of a particularly hefty box, her arms straining against the load, she felt an unexpected reprieve. The box seemed to defy gravity, becoming lighter in an instant. Intrigued, she looked down, only to discover a pair of stylish shoes stepping in to take the place of her struggling arms.

Confused yet pleasantly surprised, y/n followed the trail of these stylish shoes upward, and her eyes met the gaze of a tall figure. His presence exuded an air of easy confidence, and as he offered a warm, puppy-like smile, y/n couldn't help but feel an immediate sense of relief. "Need a hand?" he offered, his voice carrying the friendliness of a familiarity.

Y/n, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected assistance, couldn't help but smile in return. "Oh, yes, thank you! This box had grand aspirations of being much lighter, but reality hit hard."

The stranger chuckled, the sound resonant and friendly, as he effortlessly took the weight off her hands. As he straightened up, y/n found herself looking at someone not only tall in stature but possessing an undeniable charm. His eyes sparkled with genuine kindness, and the corners of his lips held a perpetual hint of warmth.

"Moving day can be a real workout," he remarked, his tone filled with joy. "I'm Mingyu, by the way. Your neighbor from across the street. Jeonghan did inform us about someone moving across us!"

Y/n accepted the offer of a handshake, noting the strength and assurance in his grip. "I'm y/n. Nice to meet you, Mingyu. And thank you for the rescue. I guess my belongings decided to give me a bit of a challenge today."

Mingyu laughed, a hearty sound that echoed the friendly atmosphere of the neighborhood. "No worries, y/n. We've all been there. Moving is a team effort, and consider me part of your moving crew today."

He proved to be more than just a momentary helper. Mingyu's assistance extended beyond the initial box, as he effortlessly carried the weight of y/n's belongings with a friendly demeanor that made the daunting task of moving seem surprisingly enjoyable. As they navigated through the various boxes and items, he seamlessly transitioned from being just a neighbor to a newfound friend.

In the midst of the heavy lifting, Mingyu shared more about the neighborhood, offering insights and stories that painted a vivid picture of the close-knit community. "We're a friendly bunch around here," he grinned, carefully placing a box marked 'fragile' down. "You'll probably bump into Seokmin and Minghao, my housemates. We share the house across the street. Can't miss it—bright blue door."

As they chatted, Mingyu's tales provided a glimpse into the dynamic life of the neighborhood. "We have this tradition of Sunday brunch potlucks in the backyard," he shared, his eyes lighting up with the enthusiasm of a fond memory. "Everyone brings a dish, and we just enjoy good food and company. You should definitely join us sometime."

The sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the quiet streets. Y/n, grateful for Mingyu's unexpected kindness, couldn't help but marvel at the vibrant hues of orange and pink that painted the sky. The exhaustion from the move weighed heavily on her, and the prospect of preparing dinner in her new kitchen seemed like a mountain to climb.

Mingyu, sensing her weariness, chimed in with a friendly suggestion. "You know, instead of slaving away in the kitchen on your first night, how about you join us for dinner? We're having a small get-together in the backyard. It's a mix of friends and neighbors. Think of it as a welcome party for the newest member of the block."

Y/n hesitated, a mix of fatigue and a slight apprehension about socializing with strangers playing on her mind. Mingyu, however, reassured her with a warm smile. "It's really casual. No pressure at all. Just good food, good company, and a chance to meet some friendly faces."

Feeling a sense of camaraderie and warmth from Mingyu's invitation, y/n couldn't resist the genuine offer of community. "Alright, sounds great," she replied with a tired but appreciative smile. "Let me freshen up a bit, and I'll be there. Thanks, Mingyu."

Mingyu grinned, "Perfect! We'll be right across the street whenever you're ready. Take your time. And don't worry about bringing anything—just yourself. We've got it covered."

As y/n headed indoors to prepare for the evening, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she had not just moved into a new house but stumbled upon a welcoming community that promised more than just neighbors—it offered the possibility of genuine connections and the warmth of a shared life in this delightful town.

Y/n adjusted the strap of her bag nervously as she approached Mingyu's house. The anticipation of meeting new people and navigating the social dynamics of a tight-knit community left a flutter in her stomach. The inviting glow of streetlights bathed the house in a warm aura, making it stand out amidst the evening shadows.

To her surprise, the door swung open before she could even raise her hand to knock. Mingyu stood there, a beam of genuine warmth illuminating his face. His puppy-like smile widened as he greeted her, "Hey, y/n! Right on time. Come on in!"

The entrance to Mingyu's home ushered her into a world of lively sounds—laughter, chatter, and the rhythmic melodies of music. The atmosphere was contagious, filling her with a sense of excitement and belonging even before she stepped inside. The air carried the mingled scents of grilled food, hinting at the delightful feast that awaited in the backyard.

Mingyu, with an inviting gesture, guided her through the house. The interior revealed snippets of his life—a well-loved couch adorned with plush cushions, framed photographs capturing shared memories, and a hint of lingering conversations from another room. The vibrant energy of the gathering intensified as they approached the back, the sounds of laughter now mingling with the sizzle of a barbecue.

The backyard transformed into a warm haven. Strings of lights criss crossed above, casting a soft glow that illuminated the faces of mingling neighbors. Mingyu's friends, a diverse ensemble of personalities, added to the charm of the scene. The smell of grilled food wafted through the air, teasing the taste buds and inviting everyone to partake in the communal feast.

Mingyu, still wearing his welcoming grin, gestured towards the lively group. "This is where the magic happens. Welcome to the backyard gathering!"

The warm ambiance, the inviting glow of string lights, and the tantalizing aroma of barbecue all combined to create an atmosphere that embraced y/n into the fold of a close-knit community. As she took in the lively scene and the faces of her new neighbors, any remnants of nervousness were replaced with a growing sense of excitement and anticipation for the camaraderie that awaited in this charming backyard.

Mingyu, playing the role of the perfect host, introduced y/n to the eclectic group. "Everyone, this is y/n, our newest neighbor. Y/n, meet Seokmin and Myungho," he pointed to the two housemates, who greeted her with welcoming smiles.

The backyard was alive with activity. Soonyoung and Seungkwan were engaged in a playful karaoke battle, their voices resonating through the night air. Myungho, a quiet observer, rolled his eyes at their antics, while Mingyu chuckled. "Don't mind them. Karaoke nights always bring out the competitive spirit."

In a corner, Jeonghan, the friendly landlord, shared a conversation with a few others, and y/n couldn't help but marvel at the diversity of personalities in the group. Mingyu, noticing her observation, whispered, "We're a bit of a motley crew, but it makes for great company."

As the night progressed, the lively energy of the gathering continued. Seungkwan and Soonyoung's bickering escalated into playful banter, while Mingyu showcased his culinary skills at the grill, the aroma of barbecue filling the air.

As the evening wore on, some bid their farewells. Jeonghan, with a friendly nod, excused himself, and a couple of others followed suit. Soonyoung, succumbing to the combination of karaoke and excitement, eventually found his way to a makeshift bed, prompting Mingyu to carry him inside with a good-natured laugh.

Y/n, feeling a mixture of warmth and exhaustion, approached Mingyu to express her gratitude. "Thanks for tonight, Mingyu. It was a wonderful welcome."

Mingyu, still wearing that ever-present golden retriever-like grin, replied, "Anytime, y/n. We're glad to have you here. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

With a final wave to the remaining friends, y/n took her leave, the night filled with laughter and camaraderie echoing in her ears. As she walked back to her own house, she couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging settling in—the kind that comes from the shared moments of a lively community and the promise of friendships yet to deepen.

The days drifted by as y/n gradually settled into the rhythm of her new life in the tranquil town. Engrossed in the process of unpacking and familiarizing herself with the surroundings, she engaged in the ordinary tasks that came with starting afresh. The sun painted the sky in hues of warmth as she navigated through the usual activities, gradually making this unfamiliar place feel a bit more like home.

In the midst of the ordinary, an unexpected spark of curiosity ignited. While sifting through her mailbox, typically filled with mundane bills and advertisements, y/n stumbled upon a peculiar treasure. Nestled among the routine, a special envelope emerged, radiating a charm that set it apart from the usual contents.

This vintage envelope held a distinct aura, as if it had been plucked from another era. Its edges bore the gentle wear of time, adding character to its appearance. Despite the signs of age, there was a certain timeless elegance to it, a stylish nod to the past with a modern twist. It was like a piece of history wrapped in an envelope, belonging to someone who cherished the charm of bygone days but navigated the currents of the present.

As y/n gingerly held the envelope, a subtle blend of nostalgia and modernity emanated from its surface. The paper, though years old, carried a texture that hinted at a recent touch, as if someone from this generation had deliberately chosen to embrace the grace of vintage aesthetics. It was a unique fusion of old-fashioned elegance and contemporary flair, a tangible connection between the past and the present.

As y/n studied the letter, her eyes caught on a name that sounded like a whisper from a different realm – "Amour." An unusual name, one that carried a hint of romance and mystery. Intriguingly, it was addressed to her, even though the connection to this unfamiliar name was nowhere in her recent memory. A momentary dismissal crossed her mind, attributing it to a letter meant for the previous occupant. Perhaps the sender wasn't aware of the change, still reaching out to an Amour who no longer resided at the given address.

The initial reaction was one of practicality, a simple assumption that sought to explain the seemingly misplaced letter. Maybe the sender was oblivious to the fact that the intended recipient had moved on from this place. Yet, as the day unfolded and the town transformed with the onset of evening, the peculiar envelope refused to fade into the background. It persisted in her thoughts, becoming a magnetic point of curiosity that drew her attention back, again and again.

Holding the old-fashioned envelope in her hands, y/n hesitated. The letter inside seemed personal, like a peek into someone's private thoughts. She pondered whether to read it or not, feeling a mix of curiosity and respect for the past occupant's privacy.

The vintage style of the envelope, with its intentional old-timey vibe, hinted at a story waiting to be told. The decision to open it felt like standing on the edge of someone else's feelings and memories. The inked words on the letter, still folded, held the potential to reveal a part of someone's life not meant for casual eyes.

The mystery and curiosity won over her reservations. With a quiet determination, y/n decided to unfold the letter, ready to explore the hidden stories and emotions that the pages might unfold. The choice to step into this unknown space felt like opening a door to someone else's past, and she took that step with a mix of trepidation and anticipation.

Date: 01/05/2019

Dear Amour,

In the silent embrace of this letter, the ink traces the echoes of a day that etched itself into the fabric of my existence.

The day unfolded like a poem, a delicate dance of moments that wove themselves into the very essence of my being. It was as if each passing second became a verse in the story of a land parched for the sweet touch of rain. The air, thick with anticipation, carried me toward a nearby cafe—an enclave of serenity that stood as a refuge from the monotony of the ordinary, a sanctuary where possibilities unfurled like petals in the gentle breeze.

Since the tapestry of my memories began, I've been the silent observer, finding solace in the quiet corners of my home. The contours of my existence were shaped by the solitude I sought, a realm where the whispers of my thoughts resonated in the stillness. Yet, on that fateful day, a gentle pull, like the invisible hands of fate, tugged at the strings of my solitude. It was an urging, a call to step into the unexplored territory of the cafe—a space that held the promise of encounters yet to unfold.

The very decision to step into that cafe marked a departure from the familiar script of my life. The door swung open, not merely to a physical space, but to the uncharted landscapes of possibility. With each step, I traversed the threshold of routine, embracing the unknown with a heart open to the serendipitous wonders that awaited within the walls of that sanctuary.

The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans greeted me, weaving a sensory tapestry that spoke of warmth and familiarity. It was then that I saw her—the girl who, unbeknownst to her, would redefine the contours of my existence. She stood there, a living canvas painted by the hands of fate, the light wind playing a delicate symphony with the strands of her hair.

Her presence seemed like a stroke of destiny, a chapter written in the celestial script of our intertwined stories. As our eyes met, time suspended itself, and the ordinary boundaries of reality blurred. It was a moment that transcended the mundane, as if the universe conspired to orchestrate a connection, an unspoken agreement unfolding in the silent language of glances and smiles.

Her eyes, pools of warmth and mystery, held secrets and stories yet to be told. They mirrored the reflection of a kindred spirit, resonating with a depth that transcended the superficial. It was in that gaze that I felt the tendrils of an invisible thread weaving itself between our souls, binding us in a silent understanding that surpassed the limitations of spoken words.

In the symphony of that moment, the cafe transformed into a sacred space, a stage where our destinies briefly intersected. The ordinary chatter of patrons faded into background noise, leaving only the echo of our shared gaze. And in that silent exchange, a connection was forged, setting in motion a series of events that would shape the course of our intertwined narratives.

The girl I saw was you, and you had me the moment you looked at me. Your gaze became the catalyst for a myriad of emotions, unraveling a story written in the language of fate and woven into the very fabric of our shared existence.

Each recollection of that encounter is like a cherished melody, a timeless tune that plays on a loop in the quiet chambers of my thoughts. The symphony of that moment, the laughter echoing in the cafe, the delicate clink of coffee cups, all compose a melodic ode to the serendipity that unfolded that day. It's a melody that resonates through the corridors of my mind, an everlasting refrain of a connection that defies the constraints of time.

In these moments of reflection, the word "Amour" echoes through my mind, a gentle whisper that transcends the ordinary definitions of fate. It's more than a term; it's a name, a label that carries the weight of our shared connection. The mere utterance of it conjures images of you—the girl who became the focal point of a destiny written in invisible ink.

So, let this letter be a testament to the serendipity that brought us together—the day the drought of my soul quenches its thirst with the rain of your presence. Every word etched on this paper is a silent acknowledgment of the profound impact you've had on the rhythm of my life.

In the quiet solitude of my room, as I pen down these words, I find myself grappling with the uncertainty that shrouds our future. This letter, crafted with the ink of genuine emotions, might never reach your hands. I am left to wonder if our paths will ever cross again, if the serendipity that united us will weave its magic once more.

Yet, even in the face of this uncertainty, I write with a glimmer of hope—a hope that transcends the boundaries of time and distance. This letter becomes a vessel, carrying not only my sentiments but also the silent yearning to see you again. And even if this letter remains unsent, floating in the sea of unsent letters, it stands as a testament to the sincerity of my emotions and the silent hope that someday, our stories will intersect again.

Yours in reminiscence,

Woozi

The words lingered in the air as y/n absorbed the emotions woven into each sentence. The letter had painted a picture of a connection that transcended time and space. The vintage charm of the envelope seemed to have carried not just a message from the past but a piece of a love story waiting to unfold. As she set the letter aside, the room felt different, as if the walls whispered secrets that begged to be heard. It felt like the quiet town held more stories than she had initially imagined, and within its embrace, she found herself entangled in the enigmatic tale of Woozi and Amour.

She hoped to find more, but the letter just ended, and she keeps thinking about it. The night enveloped the town in its quiet embrace, and y/n found herself entangled in the web of possibilities. The journey into the unknown had just begun, and the quiet town, with its cobblestone streets and whispered rumors, held the key to a myriad of untold narratives. With a heart brimming with curiosity, she hoped to uncover the layers of mystery that clung to the very fabric of her surroundings. But for now, the letter remained a silent witness to the unexplored depths of the town's history. Its words, though poignant and evocative, were a mere prologue to the stories that awaited her. As she drifted into contemplation, the vintage envelope and its contents became a beacon, guiding her into a world where love and suspense danced in tandem, inviting her to be a part of a narrative that defied the boundaries of time.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/n found herself sitting by the window once again, the vintage envelope in her hands. The town, now bathed in the soft hues of twilight, seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for her to unlock the secrets it harbored. With each passing day, the questions in Y/n's mind multiplied like the stars appearing in the evening sky.

The temptation to seek answers intensified. She wondered about the fates of Woozi and Amour—did their love story reach fruition, or did it succumb to the twists and turns of life? Did they break each other's hearts, or did circumstances force them apart? The allure of the unknown weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't help but feel a personal connection to the unfolding saga.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed her, Y/n found herself staring at the ceiling, the words of Woozi's letter echoing in her mind. She yearned to know the details of their love story, the highs, the lows, and the inevitable mysteries that lay within. The journey into the unknown was becoming a solitary exploration, and Y/n felt a growing urgency to uncover the hidden chapters of Woozi and Amour's past.

As Y/n strolled back from her grocery shopping, the vibrant colors of fresh produce peeking out from her reusable bags added a cheerful contrast to the routine yet comforting task. Her mind, a tapestry of thoughts, weaved through the aisles of the grocery store. Was she humming a tune softly to herself, or perhaps lost in contemplation about the essentials of her new life in the town?

As she approached her car with bags in tow, the weight of her musings shifted to the practicalities of life. Did she remember to pick up the fresh loaf of bread? Did she check off everything on her mental shopping list, or were there still lingering doubts about forgetting a crucial item?

Unloading the groceries, Y/n's eyes inadvertently fell upon the mailbox, standing there like a stoic guardian of potential surprises. Her routine had subtly changed over the past week. Each return home was accompanied by a glance towards the mailbox, a silent hope that another chapter in Woozi's enigmatic tale would await her.

With the groceries safely inside, Y/n found herself standing before the mailbox, a mix of curiosity and a touch of skepticism. The routine checks had become a silent ritual, a dance with anticipation that often ended in a quiet sigh as the mailbox remained undisturbed. However, this time was different.

As she opened the mailbox, the cool metal meeting her fingertips, the surprise was palpable. There it was—the same vintage envelope that had captivated her attention a week ago. A rush of excitement coursed through her veins, and with careful anticipation, Y/n retrieved the letter. The possibilities it held unfolded in her mind, adding a layer of intrigue to the ordinary act of checking the mail. The journey into Woozi's world continued, and Y/n, with a subtle smile, embraced the enigmatic tale that seemed destined to intertwine with her own.

As Y/n stepped into her cozy home, bags of groceries in hand, she felt a familiar excitement bubbling within her. The warm rays of the sun filtered through the windows, casting a gentle glow over the scene. It was a moment to savor, a pause in the ordinary where anticipation hung thick in the air.

Taking a deep breath, she settled into a quiet corner, the ambiance humming with the promise of discovery. The groceries found their places, each item finding its spot in the choreography of daily life. A steaming cup of black coffee, a loyal companion, joined her on this journey of anticipation.

With care and curiosity, Y/n cradled the vintage envelope in her hands, the delicate paper whispering stories of days gone by. The room, bathed in the soft glow of the sun, became a sanctuary for this intimate ritual. As the envelope unfolded, a rustling melody filled the space, as if the very room held its breath, eager to be a part of the unfolding tale.

Date: 03/07/2019

Dear Amour,

Two months danced away in the rhythm of passing days, and here I am, sitting down to write to you once more. Time has woven its threads through the fabric of our lives, and I find myself eager to unravel the tapestry of events that have unfolded since my last letter.

As the days turned into nights, a symphony of experiences played out, each note carrying whispers of moments, stories, and emotions that begged to be shared. The pen meets the paper in an attempt to capture the essence of these fleeting days, to chronicle the chapters that have shaped the course of time.

Once more, fate's subtle hand led me to a gathering, a simple congregation of friends where laughter wove the air into a tapestry of shared joy. This was not my usual terrain, a realm unfamiliar, yet ventured into at the nudging of my ever-persuasive brother.

As my eyes scanned the room, a jolt of surprise coursed through me when I spotted you in animated conversation with Joshua. Even from a distance, I could see the genuine warmth in your smile, a smile that Joshua, with his charismatic charm, effortlessly coaxed out. The playful banter and the ease with which he made you laugh left me in a mix of emotions.

There was a twinge of happiness, undoubtedly, to witness you in high spirits. However, a veil of sadness draped over my heart, realizing that the source of your joy wasn't me. Doubt lingered in the shadows, questioning whether I, with my reserved nature, could ever be the one to bring that radiant smile to your face. From my secluded corner, I grappled with conflicting emotions—happiness for you and a silent yearning to be the reason behind your laughter.

As the night went on, Joshua, a friend from both old times and new, made an announcement that caught my attention. He shared the news about a new neighbor joining our community. To my pleasant surprise, when you stepped into the spotlight, there was a sense of familiarity and warmth that stirred within me.

You introduced yourself, and the way your words flowed was like a calm and steady stream. It was as if you effortlessly became a part of our gathering. Watching you in that moment, I couldn't help but appreciate how comfortably you fit into our circle. It was a simple yet meaningful introduction that left me genuinely intrigued and captivated.

In the quiet routine of everyday life, our days found a comforting rhythm, like a familiar tune playing in the background. We began to spend more time together, our lives merging like dancers gracefully navigating a stage. The simplicity of our meetings held a special magic, where ordinary conversations carried the weight of something extraordinary.

Our shared moments became the building blocks of something beautiful. Walking side by side under the evening sky, we exchanged words that held meaning beyond their surface. These moments, no matter how small, turned into precious memories, like notes in a song that told the story of our growing connection.

Every step we took together, every word we shared, contributed to the melody of our journey. It wasn't about grand gestures but the subtle, everyday expressions that deepened the bond between us. Each conversation, each shared sunset, each smile became a treasure, filling the spaces between us with a warmth that spoke of something more than friendship. Your playful declaration, calling me cute, made my cheeks blush with a warmth I hadn't known before. In the simplicity of our talks, I found a comforting solace. The ease with which we exchanged words felt like a familiar dance, and I cherished every shared moment.

As I carefully let the ink dry on this paper, I can't help but hold onto a hopeful feeling. It's a wish, almost like a quiet prayer, that the feelings I've been holding in my heart find a way to you. There's a subtle confession hidden in the unspoken words, a hope that these emotions, much like a gentle breeze, reach you and touch something deep within your being.

While I remain here, my heart silently longing for the next chapter in our story, there's a quiet determination. It's a promise that until our paths cross again, merging into one forever, I'll keep these feelings safe, patiently waiting for the moment destiny brings us together.

Always yours,

Woozi.

As Y/n reached the end of Woozi's second letter, a whirlwind of emotions cascaded through her. The poetic expressions and heartfelt confessions resonated deeply within her, leaving an indelible mark on her thoughts.

A gentle sigh escaped her lips as she set the letter down, her fingers lightly tracing the creases in the aged paper. The room, once filled with the anticipation of unfolding mysteries, now held a serene stillness. The narrative woven by Woozi had transported her to a realm where the ordinary transformed into the extraordinary.

In the quiet aftermath of reading, Y/n found herself caught between the echoes of Woozi's words and the present reality. The warmth of his sentiments lingered, leaving her in a contemplative state. She marveled at the beauty of the connection between Woozi and Amour, a connection that transcended the boundaries of time.

Yet, as she sat there, enveloped in the soft glow of the evening, a subtle melancholy settled within her. It was a poignant reflection on the yearning for a love as deep and sincere as the one expressed in the letters. Her thoughts meandered into the realm of self-reflection, pondering whether she would ever encounter a love so pure, a connection so profound.

As Y/n reflected on Woozi's letters, her mind involuntarily journeyed into the recesses of her past. A memory, vivid yet distant, emerged—a scene from her teenage years where she sat among friends, the shy observer in a group dominated by the vibrant presence of one particular friend.

In the hazy recollection, laughter echoed around them as they engaged in casual banter.

The most popular friend, with an air of playful teasing, turned her attention to Y/n. "You know," she remarked, her words carrying the lightness of jest, "Y/n here spends all day immersed in books, expecting a prince charming to waltz into her life. It's like she's living in a fairy tale!"

The comment, fueled by good-natured humor, elicited laughter from the group. Y/n, accustomed to being the quiet bookworm, smiled with a hint of self-consciousness. The notion of an enchanting love story felt like a distant dream, a realm where fiction held more sway than reality.

Now, in the present, as Y/n revisited that memory, a gentle smile played on her lips. The words of her friend, once a source of amusement, carried a new perspective. The laughter of the past resonated in her mind, but with it came a quiet certainty that her friend had been mistaken.

Woozi's letters, with their tender prose and sincere expressions, dismantled the notion that love in its purest form was confined to the realms of fiction. The love Woozi described felt real, a tangible force that surpassed the boundaries of imagination. Y/n found herself reassured that, perhaps, the fairy tales she had been teased about were not as far-fetched as they seemed. In Woozi's words, she discovered a genuine, innocent love that defied the skepticism of her past.

Y/n spent hours thinking about what to do. The mysterious letters and the love story behind them kept playing in her mind. Finally, she realized that her friendly landlord might have answers. The decision to talk to Jeonghan became clear in her mind, and she felt determined to uncover the secrets of her new home. With a purpose in her heart, Y/n decided to visit Jeonghan and share her discoveries, hoping he could help her understand the mysteries hidden within the walls.

In the gentle embrace of a quiet afternoon, Y/n stands before Jeonghan's door, her heartbeat echoing the rhythm of anticipation. The sun, casting its golden hues, weaves a comforting tapestry around her, and the rustling leaves add a soothing cadence to the air. With every knock, she sends forth a silent plea for answers, hoping Jeonghan holds the key to the secrets concealed within the vintage envelopes.

As the door swings open, Jeonghan's warm smile welcomes her, an unspoken assurance that she is not alone in her quest for understanding. "Hey, Y/n! What brings you here?" he greets, his eyes reflecting genuine curiosity.

Taking a tentative step inside, Y/n feels a sense of comfort in the familiar surroundings of Jeonghan's home. The invitation to sit encourages her to share her discoveries. "Hi, Jeonghan. I've been finding these vintage letters, and they're addressed to someone named Amour. I was wondering if you knew anything about the person who lived here before me or the history of the house."

Jeonghan ponders for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Amour, huh? That's an interesting name. Let me think… Oh, yes! Sunhee used to live here about five years ago. She was a kind soul."

Y/n leans in, her curiosity piqued. "Was? What happened to her? Did she move away?"

Jeonghan's gaze shifts, memories flickering in his eyes. "Well, I went to visit her one day, and to my surprise, she was gone. Just a letter, saying she left without letting anyone know. It was quite sudden."

As Y/n absorbs this piece of the puzzle, she steers the conversation gently toward the current enigma. "I also found mentions of someone named Woozi in these letters. Do you have any idea who Woozi might be?"

Jeonghan's brows furrow slightly, indicating a mix of uncertainty. "Woozi, huh? Not really sure. Could be a pen name or a nickname. Sunhee interacted with quite a few friends in town, so it's challenging to pinpoint who Woozi might be."

As the conversation with Jeonghan flows seamlessly, Y/n finds herself more immersed in the mysteries surrounding her new home. The cozy atmosphere of Jeonghan's living room becomes a setting for shared stories, and she learns that the neighbors have a weekly gathering. Today, it's Joshua's turn to host the event.

As Jeonghan mentions Joshua hosting the gathering, Y/n's curiosity piques. She can't help but wonder about the dynamics of the neighborhood's weekly gatherings. Jeonghan's question about meeting Joshua brings her back to the reality of the present moment.

Jeonghan, with a friendly smile, encourages, "You should definitely drop by. It's a nice way to get to know everyone in the town. Joshua is not just a great host; he's a fantastic guy. Always has a story to tell or a joke to share."

Y/n, intrigued by the idea, responds, "I'd love to attend. It sounds like a lovely tradition. And who knows, maybe I'll finally get to meet Joshua in person. The letter did mention him, after all."

Jeonghan nods in agreement, "Absolutely! These gatherings are a perfect way to connect with the community. You'll find everyone there—sharing stories, laughter, and maybe some town secrets if you're lucky."

As Y/n contemplates attending the event, she can't shake off the thought that perhaps this gathering might hold more clues about Woozi and Amour. The anticipation builds, adding a layer of excitement to her quest for unraveling the mysteries hidden within the vintage letters.

Y/n walks back home from Jeonghan's place, her mind buzzing with questions. Jeonghan shared a bit about Sunhee, but it only made Y/n more curious about the Woozi and Sunhee mystery.

She thinks about Joshua, the next neighbor hosting the gathering. Maybe Joshua could have more answers? Y/n wonders if attending the event might unlock some secrets about Woozi and Sunhee's relationship. The excitement builds as she imagines the possibilities.

Y/n, with the vintage letters safely tucked in her bag, enters the lively atmosphere of the party. Laughter and chatter weave through the air like a familiar melody. Spotting Mingyu and Seokmin engaged in animated conversation, she decides to navigate through the sea of new faces and join them.

As Y/n approaches, Mingyu flashes a welcoming smile. "Hey, Y/n! Glad you could make it. Meet Seokmin, the unofficial comedian of the neighborhood." Seokmin bows dramatically, earning a playful eye roll from Mingyu. This is the ongoing joke among the friends about the title they give each other while introducing and it helps y/n to understand them better too.

Seokmin, with a mischievous grin, quips, "Unofficial? I'm offended, Mingyu. I'm the undisputed king of neighborhood comedy." Mingyu chuckles, "You heard it here first – the king has spoken."

Amidst the banter, Seokmin turns to Y/n, "So, Y/n, any embarrassing stories Mingyu hasn't shared yet?" Mingyu raises an eyebrow in mock innocence, "Embarrassing stories? I'm an open book, Y/n. Don't believe a word this guy says."

The trio shares a laugh, and soon, Y/n finds herself immersed in the conversation. Mingyu, with his easy going nature, and Seokmin, with his playful humor, create an environment that feels like a gathering of old friends rather than neighbors.

As the atmosphere takes a flirtatious turn with Joshua's entrance!

Joshua, flashing a mischievous grin, approached Y/n with a confident swagger. "Well, hello there. I'm Joshua—your friendly neighborhood heartbreaker. And who might you be, turning this quiet gathering into a spectacle of charm? You must be new around here. I haven't had the pleasure of meeting someone as captivating as you before."

Y/n, slightly taken aback but amused, replied, "Well, you know how to make a girl feel welcome! I'm Y/n, the unsuspecting victim of said spectacle, apparently. Nice to meet you, Joshua."

Joshua, not missing a beat, continued his playful banter, "Nice? Oh, you have no idea how nice it is until you've spent more time with me. Brace yourself; tonight is just the beginning of the enchantment." As Joshua continues to weave his charming spell, Y/n decides to play along. "Joshua, I must say your compliments sound strangely familiar. Have you been practicing your lines?" she teases, a knowing twinkle in her eye.

Joshua, with a charming grin, responds, "Ah, you've caught me. I believe in making every interaction memorable." Y/n, feeling a sense of amusement, introduces herself, "Well, Joshua, consider this interaction etched in my memory."

The party unfolds with Joshua's flirtatious banter, and Y/n finds herself playfully engaging in the charming exchange. As Joshua continues his suave introductions, Mingyu, with a grin, interjects, "Well, well, looks like Y/n got introduced to our local flirty guy. Joshua, mind giving others a chance?"

Seokmin joins in with a teasing remark, "Yeah, Joshua, save some charm for the rest of us. We can't let you have all the fun." The group shares a round of laughter, breaking the ice and creating an easy camaraderie.

Y/n, amused by the banter, retorts, "Don't worry, guys. I can handle a bit of charm." Joshua, unfazed, adds, "That's the spirit! I like someone who can appreciate good company." As the atmosphere takes a flirtatious turn with Joshua's entrance, Y/n can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. His charming smile and the playful banter seem oddly familiar, as if she's encountered this scenario before. However, undeterred by the strange sense of repetition.

As Y/n's gaze sweeps across the lively gathering, her eyes land on a figure that stands out from the familiar faces. A guy with slightly tousled, long hair sits alone, his eyes fixed on the merriment surrounding him. Intrigued by the air of mystery surrounding this lone observer, Y/n feels an unspoken connection as their eyes meet.

The atmosphere seems to shift momentarily, and in that fleeting exchange of glances, a spark ignites, subtle yet palpable. It's as if time pauses for a breath, allowing a silent understanding to pass between them. Y/n senses a familiarity that transcends the boundaries of this gathering, leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of connection.

In that moment, amidst the playful banter and flirtatious exchanges, the gaze shared with the guy across the room becomes a focal point. Y/n's curiosity deepens, and she can't shake off the intuition that this encounter carries a significance beyond the surface. As the festivities continue, the mysterious guy remains a puzzle waiting to be unraveled, and Y/n can't help but wonder about the threads that tie their fates together.

In the midst of the lively banter and playful exchanges, Y/n's instincts guide her gaze through the crowd. The room buzzes with energy, but amidst the laughter and animated conversations, her attention is drawn to a lone figure with slightly long hair—pale skin and dark hair that sets him apart.

Seated in quiet contemplation, the mysterious guy seems to be in his own world, disconnected from the surrounding merriment. Soonyoung, the ever-enthusiastic conversationalist, attempts to pull him into the lively atmosphere, but his gaze drifts, exploring the room until it lands on Y/n.

In that moment, as their eyes lock across the crowded room, a surge of recognition rushes through Y/n. It's like catching a fleeting glimpse of something familiar, something that stirs a deep sense of connection. Soonyoung's attempts to engage him become background noise as his focus proves distracting. His attention briefly shifts from Y/n to Soonyoung, and he nods politely, appearing to listen to the conversation. The fleeting eye contact is broken, and the room's festive ambiance takes center stage once again.

Caught in the act, Mingyu playfully nudges Y/n and teases, 'Checking someone out, are we?' A mischievous grin on his face.

Y/n, feeling a bit flustered, tries to brush off the comment. 'No, just curious. I've never seen him before.'

Mingyu, always the gossip-monger, leans in and spills the tea. 'Oh, that's Jihoon. Jeonghan's brother. He's been away for years and just returned to town.'

As the conversation continues, Y/n finds herself inadvertently drawn back to Jihoon. As she softly whispers, 'Jihoon.' Even though she intended it to be just for herself, Jihoon's eyes found hers again. In that silent exchange, an unspoken understanding passes between them, as if the mere utterance of his name has woven a thread of anticipation!

(a deleted shot from the mv.... why tho!??)

how come I just saw this!???? wtf--- HE'S SOOO FUCKING HOT OMG OMG OMG WTFFFFF!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Choi Seungcheol must die” Chapter 35

Masterlist

📌chapter tags: SMAU, inspired by “John tucker must die”, John tucker!seungcheol, college au, revenge fic, the truth comes out, anger for many reasons

taglist: @silvsie @christinewithluv @stayinhellevator @aiforyuu @2youngsworld @justcruisingalonguntilbamkpop @asyre @simpxxstan @anzellll @hipsdofangirl @plskillme22 @lirtha97 @lixiel0ver @notevenheretbh1 @leah-rose03 @woozarts @expensive-idiot @doveblackboat @the-boy-meets-evil @tamakis-bbyy @freshdetectivenight @mrsdacherry @smilechannie @alltheshineofthestars-blog @ocyeanicc @horanghaezone @wonuqrtz @leewonkyeom @horangboosadan @kkooongie @myghobi @wonunuwoo @wonwootakemyheart @shuasunshine @dinonuguaegi @ckline35 @miriamxsworld @itsokaytobedumb00 @seokgyuu @nishloves @bmkgemz @conwunder @kawaiimusiccollection @humankimbap @ashes23 @writingbarnes @strawberryya