Shes The Man, Is Literally One The Best And Iconic Movies From The 2000s

she’s the man, is literally one the best and iconic movies from the 2000s 🙌🏼

hypegirl! | miniseries

PAIRING ▸ soccer player! niki x afab! reader

GENRE ▸ soccerl! au, roommates!au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

SUMMARY ▸ all you want is to join the boys’ soccer team. all niki wants is to get minji’s attention. as roommates, what better than to strike a deal and help each other out? nothing really, except for one glaring issue: your blossoming feelings for said roommate. oh, and the fact that you’re technically supposed to be your brother, kim sunoo. 

AKA a hopefully more sfw version of she's the man? 

NOTES ▸ based off she’s the man (2006), reader is sunoo's sister, reader pretends to be her brother sunoo, like one kiss-let me know if there's anything else i missed!

status ▸ completed (21.10.23)

1. super shy.

2. eta.

3. cool with you.

4. get up.

a/n ▸ hi! happy 500th post and i'm alive somehow... i tried something a slightly different so I’m sorry if it came out a little weird? hopefully you enjoy reading anyways :)  

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee

@kflixnet

SERIES TAGLIST ▸ @lwavander @eumpapas @eloelooo @shoyotime @heatrache @harufluff @kjrcrz @kpopstanmeg @luvkpopp @yunicide @nunugget @kyanmeai @enhastolemyheart @j-wyoung @yinviyang @enhawinnieee @suvgs @zhounauts @b1ndignity @rshmra @they2luv1naia @hoodiebangtan @bachiwrld @lprww @riskiriki

@microwvdstrawb3rri3s @k25vi @nikisgfff @flmtunes @minhosprettywife

send an ask/message to be added to the taglist ^^

supportive homies being chaotic brothers 👏🏼🤣

boy's night ☆ riki nishimura

☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words

"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.

Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.

There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.

Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.

Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.

Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.

He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.

Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.

Enter: You.

You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.

Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.

You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!

Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.

"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.

"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.

"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"

With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.

"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—

".... But you think she's pretty, right?"

And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.

And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.

So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.

It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 

The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.

The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.

"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.

"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"

Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.

"Move your fatass head!"

"I can't see!"

As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.

What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?

His head was spinning.

"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.

"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.

"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.

"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.

"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"

"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 

"Why is that a bad thing?"

All of his friends groaned.

They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.

Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.

"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"

"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.

"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"

"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.

"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."

Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."

They all groaned loudly.

"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"

Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.

"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 

Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.

"She responded!"

Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.

"Oh my god, it's happening!"

"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"

"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"

And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.

[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 

"OHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"

According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.

"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"

"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"

"I agree," Sunoo said.

"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"

But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.

"Riki, what are you doing?!"

Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.

I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.

When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.

"It's over."

"You're insane."

"Fumbled."

Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"

The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.

You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.

"Good game, guys."

"100% over."

Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?

But then you finally replied.

My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.

Oh.

My.

God.

Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.

I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 

"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"

Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.

"D-Did she just ask you out?"

Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."

"Yes?!"

Riki blinked again. "Yeah."

.

.

.

And then it hit him.

"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"

this mass exodus of writers leaving tumblr and ao3 and just dropping their craft is so disheartening. like, I've been writing for nearly two decades so I can't say "it wasn't always like this" bc, unless you were a popular writer or interacted within certain groups, it always has been a thing. however, it has gotten substantially worse because of short form content and readers treating writers like they're supposed to give gratuitously without asking for anything in return.

that's not how it works. writers are not machines. writers are not inexhaustible because "I just read", "reblogging isn't my thing", "I don't know what to say". I'm not saying you're a piece of shit, but I am saying then you can't bitch that writers are quitting and you no longer "have anything good to read"

so, either comment and reblog and show up for us or shut the fuck up because this is what happens when you treat writers like their is work is just another thing in a pile.

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

Risk it all

pairing: street racer! yuta x mechanic fem! reader

genre: fluff (best friends to lovers / mutual pining) , angst

word count: 3,026

warnings: illegal drag racing, mention of a deceased relative, dangerous driving, mention of a tattoo needle

summary: "When Yuta walks into your car shop in his old Nissan Skyline asking for a mechanic to tune it for his next drag race, you almost turn him down immediately. You could have never imagined how much closer you'd grow through this process, building a friendship - and maybe something more - while building his ride. Tonight, Yuta has found himself in a race that will have him put it all on the line. For his grandfather's name. For his reputation. For you"

author's note: hey sukie @hyuckdove! I was your secret writer for ficscafe's fic exchange event! This fic definitely put me outside of my comfort zone (a lot of research hahah), hopefully I've written something close to your taste and sorry for being late 😣 hope you like it! <333

general taglist:

@naomis-sins, @slightlymore-main, @jjaeyoonoh, @ichbinschnappi, @infnteen, @markresonates, @babyksworld

One hand on the wheel, the other on the e-brake.

The seat felt too small for his liking as the fine leather pulled him in. Yuta wanted to fleet already, to fly off into the road, victoriously cross the finish line. He choked up in the containment of the seatbelt and the heavy expectations; too much was on the line for him.

With trembling hands and sweaty palms, he pushes back the bangs that grew too long for his small face, dyed a cherry red to fit the color of his ride. He uses a Hello Kitty hair clip to keep them off his face, one that you ironically gifted him on his first race win that he still holds onto like treasure in his pockets. The studded cuffs and noisy chains on his wrists dangle swiftly in the movement, and he decides to fix the front mirror in a compulsive urge that overwhelms him.

Hanging from it is a pair of those kitsch plushie dice and an old, battered-down picture. Him with a man that’s worn out from time but still looks a ton like Yuta; same nose, same smile, a same glint in his eyes. Yuta hears the sudden rev coming from the car on his left; it’s loud and piercing but it’s not enough to pull him out of the moment, still taking the time to kiss the pads of his fingers and touch the face of the man depicted.

It’s hot and humid in his car, especially after he turned the AC off to avoid any water spillage on the street. For a moment he catches his reflection in the mirror, sees the sweat droplets that collect around his temples and draw a wet path along his neck, right over the matching tattoo you got together. He smiles at the memory of you holding onto his hand for dear life, cussing out anything and everything on your sight as the needle pierced your skin.

It’s a chrome engine tattoo, pulsating to life along with his veins, the very first component that you installed in his car.

This race is for you.

It seems like yesterday when he rolled into your family’s car shop for the first time, freshly turned 20 and asking for the best mechanic available to help tune his car. He heard your father call your name, and soon you walked in proudly, in your oil spilled overalls and hair pulled up in a pretty ponytail. You barely sent a look his way, too preoccupied with eyeing up his ride suspiciously, while Yuta’s stomach rumbled with butterflies.

“A Nissan Skyline R34”, you deadpanned and Yuta swelled up with pride, smile shining ever so brightly next to the dusty exterior.

“I’m ‘going to Mexico’ in two weeks against a Porsche 911. I’m planning on winning.”

“With this piece of bone stock? You must be kidding.”

“That’s why I came here. I’m planning on making this baby faster.”

Walking slowly in circles around the vehicle, you estimated the rust damage, deciding to then pop up the hood. You frowned silently in concentration as you inspected the engine carefully for any fluid leaks, corrosion, or any cracked hoses and belts.

“It’s in an ok condition, I must admit, the mileage is pretty good too. But it’s still not good enough for most drag races. Maybe if you sold it for a-”

“Not happening”

Startled by the absolution in his voice, you finally took a moment to look at the boy standing before you. He was plainly dressed, with a simple tank top that hugged his torso tightly and blue jeans that bagged out just enough. His long fingers were decorated by bulky rings, shaped like crosses and hearts and scary skulls, and while the shaved patch on his eyebrow gave an edge to his appearance, his eyes to you seemed sweet like honey.

“If you make a good investment now you can get a car that can hold up better for competitions. Think about-“

“I said. It’s not happening.” You watched him curiously as he sighed in disappointment, his sharp shoulders slumping in deflation. “If you’re not gonna help me I’ll go find somebody else. But I’m not selling this car.”

“May I ask why?”

It was fate, or maybe pure curiosity. If this was any other customer you would have turned on your heel already, too deep in work to worry about a random man’s drag racing capriccio.

“This car once belonged to my grandpa. He was a famous drifter, did drag races too. He’d talk to me about all the car meets he went to and all the interesting people he met. My family doesn’t understand this world, thinks it’s stupid and dangerous and maybe it is, so they sold all his other rides”. He approached the low car, softly caressing its faded paint. “But this one he wanted me to keep. It was his last wish before he-“

“I’m sorry”, you whispered when he choked up, still staring as he waved his hands over his face.

“No, I understand”, he chuckles defeatedly, “You’re not the first car shop to turn me down.”

You thought this would be the end of the conversation with the handsome stranger, just a faint memory that would soon be hidden somewhere in your hippocampus when he slapped a band of bills on the trunk, making your eyes bulge out of your head. It was 100s. Thousands of worth.

“Where the hell did you get this?”

“From racing.”

“With that thing? You must be good”

“Thanks?”, Yuta tittered, tugged between flattery and offense, his breath hitching in his throat in anticipation when you spoke again.

“Come by tomorrow at 6 am. We have a lot to do.”

New engine, new tires, new exhaust. That’s how you made your first appearance at the next local car meet, your freshly painted “Cherry Bomb” making the JDM lovers swoon at her red beauty. Every time you’d rev between the crowds of car fanatics, your duo would have a brand new spec to show off, making your name well known in the small underground community. “The ever-growing ride”, your father would jokingly call it, reminiscent of the ever-growing friendship between you and Yuta.

At the drag racing events, people knew you as ‘Yuta’s girl’, but it was really you who took him under your wing and he was grateful for it. Slowly but steadily, Yuta became a part of your little car shop family, basking in the acceptance of your folks and hurting as he witnessed your financial difficulties. He wasn’t just a sponsor, but an endless source of inspiration for you as well, sharing stories of all the races you prepared the cars for but never attended until he’d finally invite you to join him.

That glow in your eyes at the sight of all the tuners was enough of a reason for Yuta to ask you to accompany him every time; his personal human lucky charm. He justified it somehow, saying that “his mechanic should be there just in case”, successfully ignoring the real reason behind his request that bubbled in the form of a beating heart. And it was true, that you knew his car better than anyone, but you also knew everything ‘under the hood’ of Yuta’s heart. All his ambitions, worries, his insecurities. They became yours as well, you felt them even deeper every time he crossed that finish line.

And it’s confusing to everyone but to you both as well, how you keep labeling your duo as ‘just best friends’. Even when he insists that you kiss his cheek every time he rides the asphalt for good luck. Even if the way you run into his arms the moment he walks out of his vehicle is too intimate to be friendly.

It was just last week, at a car meet like any other that he placed tonight’s important bet.

You and Yuta liked rolling in the meeting area a little late, basking in the whistles of all the impressed car enthusiasts. Opening the truck after you parked, you took out a couple of beers that you kept in a cooler, and sat with him on the hood as you casually chatted with a guy around your age.

“Nice ride man. What’s your most precious compartment?”

“This one”, Yuta stated matter-of-factly as he pointed at you, then used the same hand to bring your intertwined fingers to his lips, “She made it all possible. Smartest girl in town.”

You take a sip from your drink to cool your face down, your heart swelling with his praise. The man chuckles at the sight of you so close yet so shy towards each other, ending this part of the conversation with a nod of agreement.

“I see. I was asking because my friend is in town and he has the same car, well, the skeleton at least. Same horsepower too.”

“And?”

“...And I was looking for a good competitor”, another man answers instead, presumably the aforementioned friend. “Lee Taeyong”, he introduces himself, shaking Yuta’s hand and playing with his car keys with the other.

It was glaringly obvious that Taeyong wasn’t from around town. Dressed in Gucci from head to toe and covered in expensive jewelry, he dripped with an opulence that didn’t fit anyone around him. It seemed strange to you that he didn’t come over with a supercar or something, but then again, collecting cars from the ’90s can be equally as expensive.

“I wanna ‘go to Mexico’ before I leave for Macau. And I want to have some extra money to spend”

“Too bad the money’s going to me”, was Yuta’s smooth response, and you tried not to smile too wide at his rightful certainty.

“So, you’re in?”

“Depends on the prize”

“How about ten grand?”

The mention of the number made you choke on your beer, the amount of money being unfathomable to you. In this city, a couple of thousands alone seemed like a pretty big deal, with most of the racers being truck drivers or small business owners. You expected Yuta to politely decline, or maybe point him to a wealthier racer when he reached out his hand in agreement.

Immediately your mouth went dry, tugging the sleeve of his shirt in shock. This kind of loss would put him into bankruptcy, and Taeyong didn’t seem like a guy that would let a bet of this caliber go. He ignored you with a smile until they settled the details, and then ignored you some more when you nagged him about his terrible money handling.

“It’ll be okay”, was what he simply told you that day, and what he repeated again tonight before getting in his car.

You had faith in his abilities, that much was true, but your love for him exceeded it by much. It made your legs shake from nerves that you couldn’t get rid of, your eyes welled up with anxious tears. He had put you in his arms to calm you down, as if you were the one in need of relaxing, in those kinds of hugs that muted the commotion of the people around you and made your whole body feel weightless.

“Be careful”, you mumbled through his shirt, your face hidden safely in the fabric and ignoring the curious stares that the spectators sent your way. His hands were playing with your hair softly in response, and you loosen your grip on him for a second to take a good look at his face before he hit the road.

“Let’s make a bet of our own”, he suggested, in a voice so low that you’d have missed it if you weren’t so close to him. “How about I take you out for dinner if I win?”

“Like a celebratory dinner?”

“Like a date. My treat.”

You were taken aback by how serious he was being, chuckling nervously at the proposition.

“Well, if you lose I might have to buy your broke ass dinner every day.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

You leaned up to reach his face, petting his hair out of his cheeks until you found the upturned corner of his mouth, then planted a soft kiss right over the fold. His hands were still keeping your bodies flushed together, heartbeats beating so hard that your pulses overlapped and danced with one another. A promise, lingering in the night breeze and the faint lines of friendship you toyed with for months now took the form of your pink lipstick on the side of his lips tonight.

“Yes. Now go get ‘em”

He was reluctant yet he let you go, ignoring Taeyong’s teasings and entering his Skyline. It was this very series of events that brought him to this moment, staring at your extended arms as you stood between the two cars, preparing to give their cue to start.

This was a ‘heads up’ race, meaning that whoever crosses the finish line first, wins. They’d compete at a simple “U” shaped course, testing both their mechanics and driving abilities.

Yuta slowly eases his feet off the clutch, pressing into the accelerator until he feels the car pulling him forward. This is it.

“Ready?” you shout over the loud exhausts, and start counting once you get a nod from both, “3, 2, 1, GO!”

Pushing down the e-brake as hard as he can, he lets his car launch into the street. Taeyong is just a few seconds ahead of him, getting a slightly better head start, so Yuta doesn’t waste any more time to go into full throttle. The index of the speedometer passes by the three-digit numbers with as much urgency as him.

And you were just as nervous, if not even more, staring at the two cars battling head to head. In just a few second’s it’d be time for the big turn, and you plant your right foot into the concrete as if you could slow down Yuta’s car for him.

But he doesn’t.

A scream gets caught in your throat as he takes the turn in full speed, pulling a drift that lives up to his grandfather’s reputation. The crowd cheers enthusiastically, zooming in as they take videos of the dangerous stunt that’s hardly ever witnessed live. With such a small decrease in speed, Yuta widens the margin between him and Taeyong by a whole lot, victoriously accelerating to the finish line.

Men, children, young women, they all gather around his vehicle that’s slowly cooling down, congratulating him on the win and the newly earned money. Yuta is polite to them all, shaking their hands and flashing them his beautiful smile, yet his eyes are searching past them, looking for you.

“Y/n!”, he yells at you as you walk away from the scene quickly, hiding your face with the sleeve of your jacket. “Where are you going?”

Usually you’d have tackled him already, jump in his embrace as you’d gush over his skills. The sight of you leaving in such a hurry worries him deeply, wondering if anyone had hurt you while he was gone.

He finally reaches your speed as you enter the underdeck parking area of a nearby building and manages to pull you back, only to see your face covered in hot tears.

“Why are you crying? What happened?”

“Are you kidding me? You could have died out there!”

The sound of your sobs blocking out your voice makes his heart break into million pieces, reaching out to pull you in a hug that you reject.

“I’m fine! I know that turn was risky but I-”

“You got lucky Yuta, that’s what you did! Do you have any idea what it feels like to see someone you love risking their lives?”

“Love?”

“Yes! Love! Is that it? Will me admitting how fucking in love I am with you stop you from acting dumb again? Because I-”

Yuta kisses you with such force that you stumble back a little, gasping for air as it’s being knocked out of your lungs. Your lips taste salty, like the tears that cover your cheeks, and he places his thumbs right over them until he’s rubbed your skin dry. You could be kissing for five minutes or five hours, you’re not really sure; times flies by so fast when you breathe the same air as the person you’ve been pining over for so long.

A hand sneaks past your jacket and wraps around your waist, his rings feeling so cold against your skin that you yelp a little. Yuta swallows the sound but breaks the kiss to make sure you’re feeling better, connecting his forehead with yours when he sees that you’ve stopped crying.

“I’m an idiot”

“Yeah”, you agree and it makes him chuckle, burying his face in your neck as you continue, “your life is worth so much more than all that money”

“I did it for you.”

“What?”

He sighs in your skin and stands up straight again, rubbing his neck right over his tattoo.

“I wanted to give the money to your family. I’ve seen you struggling to keep the shop open and I know you sell me the parts for much cheaper, not to mention all the hard work you’ve put into my car. You’ve given me so much and a simple ‘thank you’ is not enough. I wanted to give back to you.”

You wrap your hands around his neck, playing with the little hairs on the nape of it. He closes his eyes at the feeling, giving in to the serenity of the moment and the sweet sound of your voice.

“You already do. Being around you and being a part of the thing you love most- it’s given me a new drive to work and be better. I’ve grown with you, and I know you appreciate me. You didn’t have to risk your life for me to know.”

Yuta kisses you again, whispering small ‘I love you’s over your lips. You hear a faint voice calling him from afar, yet he doesn’t move an inch away from you.

“You’re worth risking it all.”

how to win the lottery | mingyu

pairing kim mingyu x fem! reader genre fluff | 2.7k words | best friends to lovers warnings mentions of reader and other people drinking.

this is based on my shorter writing here

"CHEERS!"

as you sat at the dining table of seungcheol’s house, the warm glow of the overhead lights casted a soft ambiance over the room, highlighting the clinking of glasses and the excited gestures of your friends. 

the large dining table was split into three groups; you, soonyoung, chan, and seungkwan on one end, mingyu, seokmin, and jeonghan in the middle, then the rest of yours friends on the opposite side.

"you should slow down your pace," mingyu interrupts you, his gaze flickering over the outcome of your stressed week. his eyebrows furrow as he silently tallies the number of empty shot glasses that spread on top of the wooden table.

"it's okay," chan remarks across from the two of you, waving his hand at mingyu. "you're going to take her home later, no?"

mingyu shakes his head with his lips in a thin line. "i am, but the three of you are drinking the most," he points out, causing soonyoung to sulk and survey his surroundings.

seated across from him was seungkwan, face down on the table, falling asleep ever since the four of you reached the sixth bottle of soju.

how the loud conversations in the room weren't waking seungkwan up? you didn't know either.

chan's face remains unaffected, his lopsided grin only stretching wider. "come on, mingyu, it's been too long since we drank together."

soonyoung bobs his head ferociously, pointing down at the table where seungcheol is cheering at wonwoo for finishing his drink at once. 

"i promise i will only take four more shots," you place a hand on mingyu's arm in assurance. mingyu catches a glimpse of chan and soonyoung's pleading eyes before sighing.

"okay, but no more after that." mingyu reaches over to seize the two unopened bottles that were positioned centrally between the three of you, transferring the alcohol over to seungcheol's side of the table.

he rejoins his conversation with jeonghan and seokmin, his hand resting on your thigh under the table.

after, you see chan grab the remaining bottle, pouring another round of shots as if mingyu didn't just confiscate most of the alcohol.

the drunk smiles returned to your faces, the sound of three glasses hitting drowned by another rowdy seungcheol from afar; he hollered loudly when jihoon drowns his entire cup.

mingyu later felt hot inside the room, deciding to pull his attention away from the conversation and check the time. his eyes dart to the clock on the wall, a subtle sign of his growing impatience.

sure, it was a friday night, but he still wanted to head back to your house and crash.

"hey," mingyu interrupts jeonghan in the middle of his sentence, "sorry, but i think i’m going to head out." curiously, jeonghan and seokmin glance behind mingyu, staring in horror when soonyoung and chan raises their voice to sing loudly while you chuckle at their performance.

"yeah," seokmin trails off slightly after hearing soonyoung's voice crack, "you should go, we'll watch those two."

jeonghan observes his other friends, realizing that they are still bantering, but not as intoxicated as the three of you. "i think we're staying longer since everyone's still lively."

mingyu withdraws his hand from your thigh, rising from his chair and briefly towering over you. he taps your shoulder as seokmin and jeonghan pick up their discussion.

"hey," you turn your head to the voice, "can we head back now?" mingyu spots chan and soonyoung in the middle of pouring more shots, the single bottle you had left reaching the bottom. 

"we can go, mingyu, just let me take one more," you insist, but mingyu quickly stops you from reaching the shot glass.

"i think you've had enough for the night," mingyu states the obvious, watching you protest but eventually stand up next to him. you gaze at soonyoung hitting chan's shoulders playfully after chan makes a joke.

"guys," you grab everyone's attention, "we're leaving, don't drink too much without me!" you smile mischievously while mingyu chuckles softly in response.

you stroll towards the front door, everyone watching how mingyu trails behind you closely, helping you put on your shoes to leave before following suit.

"so," hansol whispers to your friends, all watching the interaction, "when are they dating again?" his question causes wonwoo and seungcheol to exchange amused glances.

minghao shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip from his glass. "when they start dating i'm winning the lottery," he places his glass down and sees mingyu opening the front door for you.

everyone, especially minghao, knew of your obvious crush on mingyu. but they also knew, you would never—ever, act on your feelings; you always to your friends that your friendship with mingyu was far more important than to risk it for your feelings.

"bye, goodnight everyone!" they hear you yell while mingyu softly ushers you out the door, collecting laughter from the group.

junhui and jisoo share a knowing look, before jisoo replies to minghao's comment from earlier, "oh, you better buy the lottery soon."

mingyu puts his arm around your waist, guiding you to the entrance of your house. "we're almost home, don't worry," he unlocks your door swiftly, having done it a million times.

when you enter your house, you immediately take off your shoes, running away to your bedroom. mingyu closes the front door behind him, following your actions, only to find you slumped over your bed.

mingyu smiles at your tired figure, heading to your bathroom to start the shower. "come on," mingyu walks towards your dresser to grab your clothes, "you have to shower,"

when you peek your eyes open, you see mingyu handing you your pajamas, pointing to the bathroom door. you whine but follow his words, knowing he was only trying to help. when mingyu sees you head into your bathroom, he leaves your room and goes to the guest bedroom so he can do the same.

twenty minutes later, mingyu dries his hair with a towel and walks over to check on you, spotting you brushing your teeth with the bathroom door open.

"are you still tired?" he asks, picking up your blow dryer on your sink counter, assuming you probably rushed to get ready earlier and left it out. when you finish spitting out the toothpaste, you mumble a yes to his question, wiping your mouth on another towel.

mingyu chuckles, plugging in the blow dryer and standing behind you to dry your wet hair. you see his concentrated face through the mirror, his hands running through your hair. it feels like a routine at this point, the way mingyu is always there to take care of you after a night out.

"all done," mingyu proceeds to set the blow dryer back to its original spot, on top of the shelf. mingyu ruffles your hair playfully, earning a protest from you before he grabs your arm to lead you to your bedroom.

"finally," you mumble, "i can't wait to knock out," you run to your bed and get under the covers, closing your eyes almost immediately.

"goodnight," mingyu takes one last look at you before he heads to the guest bedroom, hearing a weak 'goodnight mingyu' on his way out.

you wake up with a pounding headache. if it wasn't the consequences of your actions. 

you groan, sitting up on your bed, recalling the previous night. you swear in your head to never sit next to chan and soonyoung during dinner anymore, moving to the edge of your bed. 

before you got up, you noticed a glass of water and aspirin on your nightstand waiting for you. you feel your heart swell when you realized that mingyu had come in to leave it for when you woke up.

the scent of sizzling food filled your senses as you entered the kitchen, mingling with the sound of sizzling bacon and eggs. mingyu's culinary expertise was on full display as he expertly plated breakfast, the colorful array of dishes tempting your taste buds.

"are you burning my kitchen down?" you joke, catching mingyu's attention. you sat down on your kitchen stool just in time for mingyu to set the plates back down.

"you know i'm a better cook than you," he pointed out, before walking to the sink to wash his hands.

you notice mingyu changed into his shirt, your favorite one, that he left at your house. at this rate, he had half his clothes in your guest bedroom because he was always over.

you pull one of the plates closer to you, before grabbing a fork and eating breakfast.

"wow, this is really good," you compliment mingyu while he walks over to take a seat. too focused on the delicious food in front of you, you miss the way mingyu flushed red at your compliment.

soon, your plate was empty and you sipped on coffee while mingyu continued to eat his food.

"so," mingyu asked, "what's our plan for today?"

you suddenly recalled something, quickly heading back to your room to look for your phone. mingyu decided to ignore your suspicious action, opting to grab a bottle of water from your refrigerator.

when you came back into the kitchen, mingyu saw you typing quickly, probably sending a text message.

"i have a blind date today," you stare at your screen while mingyu starts choking on his water. 

"woah, are you okay?" you place your phone down on the kitchen island, patting mingyu's back for him to calm down. 

"i'm good," mingyu tries to act normal, "but i think i heard you wrong?"

witnessing that mingyu was no longer choking, you shrug your shoulders at his words, "i said i'm going on a blind date," you repeat, sitting on the stool to look at the information seungkwan texted you.

last night, when you complained about being single for so long, definitely not because of your hopeless, one-sided love for mingyu, seungkwan informed you that he had a mutual friend he could introduce you to.

you agreed to seungkwan, watching as he typed to text his friend about the news, but there was still a pit in your stomach at the thought of dating someone else.

"seungkwan is setting me up with his friend," you place your phone down with a sigh, "he just texted me the details for where to meet up with the person.”

mingyu abandons his water bottle, returning to his seat, “don’t go, instead, hang out with me today,” he suggests, hoping you would agree. mingyu looks at you with his big brown eyes, and you almost give in. 

“it’s just one date, how bad can it be?” you say, picking up your empty plate to put it in the sink. 

“besides, if the date goes bad we can drink later,” you mention while having your back turned on mingyu. 

mingyu frowns, but still, the possibility that the date may turn out badly is enough to have him remind you, “okay, text me later if the date ends poorly, i’ll come get you.” 

[mingyu] i’m outside the restaurant.

you grumble in annoyance under your breath for the entire walk outside the restaurant to mingyu’s car.

the date had been awful. 

the second you open the door to the passenger seat, mingyu is greeted with complaints about your date. 

“can you believe it, mingyu? they were comparing me to their ex the whole night!” you exclaim right when mingyu parks the car outside your house. mingyu listens quietly, too engrossed with the idea that your date was unsuccessful and there won’t be a second one. 

when you walk through your door, you head to your bedroom, still talking about the small unpleasant details you observed about the person. mingyu goes straight to your living room, picking up the remote to play a movie before grabbing some alcohol bottles from your refrigerator.

“i mean, why did you trust seungkwan to set you up with a nice date?” mingyu asks when you walk to join him on the couch. you notice that your favorite comfort movie is already playing, and mingyu opens the soju bottles for you both. 

“i don’t even know myself,“ you join mingyu on the couch, “i guess i just wanted to experience dating again,” it was a half lie. you just wanted to find someone to help you move on from mingyu, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

soon, the air was filled with the sound of laughter and the clinking of shot glasses, the thoughts of your horrible dinner disappeared because of mingyu’s presence.

the two of you continue talking, bringing up mingyu’s unsuccessful dates, laughing back at the memory. you both started out as best friends before you eventually grew a crush on him, so at that time you were interested in mingyu’s dates.

“i can’t believe your date told you they were using the bathroom and then left!” you push mingyu on the shoulders, the memory humorous in your head. 

mingyu pouts, “yeah, that’s the last date i ever went on.”

you pause for a moment, “wait, you’re right. why haven’t i seen you date anyone after that?” before mingyu could respond, you answered your question. 

“it was just too traumatizing, huh?” you lift your shot glass, asking mingyu to take another drink with you. 

“yeah, exactly why,” mingyu clicks his shot glass and watches you drown the alcohol. 

“anyway, why are all of our dates so unsuccessful? i'm going to be single forever. maybe, i should ask jeonghan to set me up this time? i think he has a more promising judgement in people.” you pour yourself and another shot before looking at mingyu’s glass.

“but i can treat you better,” he interrupts your rant, turning his body to face you completely, “why not just date me instead?”

you look up at mingyu, “mingyu i must be drunk from one bottle because i swear i just heard you tell me that you can treat me better,” you chuckle and see that mingyu still hasn't taken his shot yet.

“no,” mingyu stops you, making you face him. “you heard me right, why can’t you date me?" you are silent for a moment, asking yourself if this is truly happening.

"because," there's a pause, "wait what are you saying right now?"

mingyu reaches for the remote, pausing the movie that the two of you haven't been following, and leans in closer to you, inches away from your face.

"i think you know exactly what i'm suggesting right now."

it happened in seconds, your lips pressing onto his to close the small gap. mingyu's eyes are slightly widened, taken back that you made the first move, but he eventually closes his eyes and cups your face to kiss you better.

"so," mingyu smiles like a child once you pull away for air, "do you like me?" he playfully asks, smiling even brighter when he notices the blush on your cheeks.

you jokingly think for a second, "maybe, i do like you," you let out a hum before bursting out laughing, "okay, seriously, i like you, mingyu." you confess, already feeling your heart swell at the boy.

mingyu places a hand over yours, "i like you too," he admits, "i have for years." then he faces you with a serious look, "how did you not pick up on my hints?" 

you dramatically lean your head back, "how was i supposed to know? i liked you for years, too." you count in your head how long you've liked your best friend.

"all our friends know that i like you," you sigh, "i may have drunkenly told everyone when you didn't come to dinner that one time," mingyu stares at you in shock, shaking his head at his friends for not telling him.

"okay but, i practically live here," mingyu points out, arms waving around your house. "do you think i sleepover anywhere else?"

you prop your head up with your arm, "hey! at least now we know," mingyu drops his statement when he notices that you are starting to get tired.

"come," he stands up, pulling your arm, "let's head to bed, you're sleepy."

you follow him, but start to question why he's taking his shirt off and standing half naked, a routine he does to sleep.

"because," he answers you, placing his shirt on your vanity, "i want to sleep in your bed tonight," when you both stand next to the bed, he sheepishly looks at you, "and i want to cuddle."

you laugh at the boy, jumping on your covers and waiting for him to join you.

in your bedroom, the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. the soft rustle of sheets accompanied your movements as you shifted in bed, the peacefulness of the morning enveloping you both.

mingyu's eyes lingered on your serene expression, feeling a surge of warmth and contentment spread through him. it felt like he had won the lottery, knowing that you were peacefully sleeping next to him as his girlfriend.

this one too! Had me swimming in a pool of swirling emotions 😭

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫-𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 

parings: johnny seo x reader

genre: oneshot, soulmates!au, college!au, childhood best friends!au, friends to lovers!au, angst, fluff, smut (first time reader)

warnings: alcohol usage, swearing

a/n: indentation indicates past events (there’s only one), italicized indicates thoughts/emphases (you’ll know)

[ 16.2 k words ]

tags: @kpopscape​ @nct-writers​ @yixing-jaehyun​ @huangvibez​ @justineasian​ @keijh​ @andypanda25​ @cherryblossomsfall​ @chittamonsie​ @selenelle​ @keonaforever21​ @suhweo​

Ever since you were able to see, you’d see that red, silken string attached to every person’s pinky finger. Your world was filled with it, some had it and some didn’t. You learned the hard way that if you were to tell others who their string connected to, it’d deteriorate into dust and their path to their soulmate would either also deteriorate or lead to another. From seeing your friends come and go, seeing their parents divorce, you didn’t speak a word because once you let the words slip from your lips, everything changed. You were thankful that you didn’t tell your parents when you were a child, because luckily, their strings were still attached to each other’s and every morning you thank yourself that you didn’t peep a word. You always thought that if you did, they’d still love each other. 

Another thing you were thankful for was growing up in the suburbs of the lovely city your parents decided to settle in and that you were living next door to the loveliest, sweetest boy, Johnny Seo. Your parents and his went to high school together, his parents were high school sweethearts whereas yours found one another in college and moved back to get married and start a small family. You were the only child, thankfully, you don’t know how else you’d survive. Johnny was already a big enough pain in the ass.

You two grew up to be the bestest of friends. Every summer the nights were filled with bonfires and smores, since Johnny was a bit older than you, he always helped you no matter how young he still was. You two also enjoyed sleepovers at one another’s house. You’d make forts out of stored blankets in the living room, watch a movie from there and end up falling asleep there for the night. Most of the time, you two played games in his room, he had a big collection. From cards to board games to video games, you two played them until you’d knock out and his parents would have to tuck you both in bed. A time where sleeping with each other wasn’t so weird. A time where things were easier. It’s fascinating to you how quickly time passes by, one time you were just starting elementary school, and the next, you’re in Johnny’s car as he drives you both to campus. 

“Last year of college, you ready?” You asked from the passenger seat. 

Johnny lowered the volume on his stereo, “yeah I guess, I’m ready to get out into the real world and start paying for my student debt,” he laughs. 

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