Seventeen Angst - Tumblr Posts

daisies | yoon jeonghan

ミ★ synopsis: the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. 

ミ★ genre: angst, some fluff, some spice

ミ★ warnings: mentions of vomit

ミ★ word count: 10,089

ミ★ pairings: jeonghan x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi! i was inspired by one of my favorite dramas, the great seducer, and decided to write this! i didn’t want to make it a full blown series, so i instead made a really long ass oneshot. i hope you guys like this though, i think it’s one of my favorites thus far.

ミ★ update 8/1/21: i just edited and added a few parts to this oneshot to make it a bit better ! i added a total of around 2k words throughout the oneshot ? because the original word count was around 8k :p

Keep reading

To Feel Love (l.jh)

genre: angsty + fluffy ending 

pairing: yn x lee jihoon

series: Song Fic Series! - Hug

word count: 1.2k

summary: he's stressed please hold him 

author’s note: i write author notes on separate posts LOL check them out if you’re curious (or REALLY bored) uwu

MASTERLIST

The sound of a soft knock outside Jihoon’s studio was ignored by the young man sitting at the desk inside. An unfinished melody had been sitting untouched for nearly an hour now, Jihoon’s mind racing searching and processing what could make the song unique and better from the last. The palms of his hands were pressed against his eyes and the tips of his fingers were massaging his throbbing head in an attempt to spark a new idea.

He was stressed and tired, anyone could see it. He’s just too stubborn to admit it.

The studio door creaked open, Jihoon quickly wiped his tears of frustration and fixed his hair under his cap with a quick sniffle. His eyes were fixated onto the computer screen again, he could feel his headache returning by the sight of the incomplete phrase in the music.

You quietly entered the room, the familiar purple hue illuminating the studio was a drastic difference from the bright lights in the hallway to the studio.

Hoshi had called you a few hours prior to your arrival to the studio building, asking you to get Jihoon out of the studio after camping there for the past few days. Jihoon refused to listen to the members’ concerns and continued to slink into the studio to try to get some work done. The members would bring food up to him knowing fully well that he’ll be too immersed in his music to bother taking care of himself.

It was the fourth day he had locked himself inside the studio when Hoshi called.

“Ji?”

You placed your bag on the table next to the couch before making your way over to Jihoon. He refused to face you and continued to click on some of the pages on the screen. It wasn’t until you carefully removed his headphones from his ears that he paused from his actions. Placing the pair on the table, you grabbed his hands and pulled him up from his seat.

Jihoon had felt so weak in your presence. He couldn’t find the heart to look at you, fully knowing that he had gone too far in his work if you had to come drag him out from the studio. There was a small pit of shame and guilt that he had made both you and the members worry about him. He cursed himself for not finishing up faster; for not being able to create this song quickly so there would be no need for you to drag him outside. So he could confidently come back to you on his own knowing that there was a perfect song to be used in the upcoming album.

So Jihoon stood there, unable to look at you, who was so desperately trying to search for the eyes you loved so much.

You knew he was stressed, and you knew how much creating music meant to him. But he was in a slump and you knew that it was in his nature that he would force himself to stay in the studio until something unique dawned on him. It’s during those times where you would worry about him the most despite his usual stubborn demeanor that would insist that he was okay. He’s independent and he doesn’t want to burden anyone with the problems and stress that he has to deal with as a producer.

You placed your hand on his cheek and rubbed the soft skin, watching him lean into your touch. There was a wave of sadness that rushed into you when he did this. He doesn’t deserve this stress; he needs to rest.

You quickly engulfed him into a tight hug, your arms tightly wound around him hoping that you could take away all the pain and stress he’s holding inside. Jihoon’s head limply rested on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing you closer to him. Your feelings of longing for him and the warmth of your care seeped into the hug as you clung onto him. Jihoon could feel your emotions and felt your grip tighten on him whenever it seemed like his grip was loosening on you.

You didn’t want to let go. You didn’t want him to submit to the stress and push you away again.

Jihoon finally relaxed in your hug and the two of you slowly sunk onto the floor, still holding each other as he shifted you to sit in-between his legs. Jihoon leaned against the couch as the two of you sit each other’s arms, together and in a more relaxed state.

You look up at him and he finally met your eyes. You could see that they were puffy from crying earlier and his eyebags were more prominent compared to the last time you had seen him. Your eyebrows creased and tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

He didn’t deserve this stress. You wanted him to rest.

You closed your eyes and pulled his head towards yours, foreheads pressing against each other in a final attempt to take away his stress.

Jihoon’s heart clenched at this action. He felt all the stress and pressure release as tears began falling down his face. You rest your hands on his cheeks to wipe away the tears, his forehead now pressing on yours, tired from the deadlines, the frustration, and the stress that he had been hiding away for the past few days.

A few tears slipped from your eyes as well. Your boy didn’t deserve all this pressure and stress. You felt horrible that he was feeling this way, and you understood how difficult and burdening it is to hide these feelings from the people that care about you the most. It pained you to see Jihoon like this; he was someone who rarely showed weakness to others. But despite having such a hard exterior, you were able to see that he’s a soft person at heart. He cares. He has feelings too.

The two of you held each other while each of you cried and once the tears ceased, your foreheads pressed onto each other’s again. Jihoon felt your nose playfully bump his which sprouted a small giggle from you and a grin from him. The two of you basked in each other’s presence, deep intakes of air and giggles escaped the both of you as small eskimo kisses were exchanged.

Jihoon felt so loved by you. Your presence eases him, and it was really proven today after this event. He felt so safe with you with him and your hugs were so warm and caring. He knows that you understand that he was having a hard time, despite there being little to no words shared. Jihoon tightened his grip on your torso as you lay on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

He was overjoyed by you. He was… happy. He couldn’t believe that someone had the ability to make him feel this kind of way.

He felt loved.

And he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure you felt loved too.

And once he returned back to the studio with a clear head, he was able to compose a song for both you and carats in need of comfort.

To me, you are very precious

You can tell me today was tough

I am here, you suffered a lot

I love you

I will hug you

H M M M SHOULD I MAKE SONG FICS FROM SVT’S SONGS (bc i unintentionally created my To Feel Love fic to become associated with the Vocal Unit’s song Hug and now i’m thinking hmmmmmmmm

and maybe i can take some requests for those fics with the svt members (or maybe create one for each) 😳 i’m going ballsy today

and maybe i can also just take in requests bc i wanna interact and improve my work 🥺🥺

♡ fluff | ✩ angst | ♪ personal favorite

Song Fic Series

S.Coups (c.sc)

♡ My Dawn | sfs

✩ Flower | sfs (currently down for editing)

Jeonghan (y.jh)

♡ Red | blurb

Joshua (h.js)

♡ Falling | blurb

Hoshi (k.sy) 

♡ ✩ Proud | oneshot 

Wonwoo (j.ww)

♡  Letters to You | sfs

Woozi (l.jh)

♡ ✩ ♪ To Feel Love | sfs

DK (l.sm)

♡ Daisy | sfs

Seungkwan (b.sk)

♡ Didn’t Stand a Chance | blurb

Vernon (h.vc)

♡ Korean Traditional Mungbean Pancake | oneshot

I wanted to be able to create works of fiction that could incorporate the feelings and emotions that the lyrics in Seventeen’s songs convey. This is my interpretation of their lyrics put into scenarios with the members.  

Main Masterlist

S.Coups (c.sc) - Our Dawn Is Hotter Than Day 

S.Coups (c.sc) - If I

Wonwoo (j.ww) - Run to You

Woozi (l.jh) - Hug

DK (l.sm) - Pretty U

Letters to You (j.ww)

genre: flomf + a smudge of angst

pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader

series: Song Fic Series! - Run to You

word count: 3.8k

summary: childhood friends should never be separated

author’s notes: are posted separately!! take a look if you’re feeling bored LOL

MASTERLIST

Jeon Wonwoo watched the scenery outside of the train window as the machine made its way to Changwon. The sun had set a good hour ago, and he was completely aware that his actions were stupid and insanely spontaneous. Wonwoo unconsciously clenches the box of letters in his cold hands, his thoughts consisted of you, his leg jumping anxiously as he waited for the train to reach its destination.

You and Wonwoo lived in nearby neighborhoods since primary school in Changwon, his hometown. The two of you got along as quiet children; you understood each other. Your worlds were filled with wonder and imagination. Your precious innocence and childhood memories revolved around each other. The two of you didn’t see a problem with spending so much time together; even as the two of you entered high school, you found time for each other despite having different schedules. The two of you always tried your hardest to find time to walk home together. It didn’t matter that the other kids would poke and prod at you to start dating or tease you for spending so much time together; you were a pair and were precious to each other.

As the end of senior year of high school neared, thoughts on colleges and universities to apply were common. Wonwoo wanted to get out of the town and see the city, he craved the excitement that his hometown lacked, but you wanted to stay in Changwon because of its familiarity and the fear of becoming homesick. And when Wonwoo finally broke the news that he had been accepted to Seoul National University, you didn’t know how to react.

Your best friend made it to a great school, and you should be happy for him, but it was your best friend who would be separated from you after 18 years of staying side by side.

The two of you sat in silence after Wonwoo spoke, the slight squeaking of the rusting swing set the two of you sat on being the only audible noise. The swing set resided in a park you and Wonwoo frequented since you were young, it being the halfway point between your neighborhoods. Going here would be your sacred spot for years in your friendship; the most complicated talks would take place here, this being one of them. As your mind filled with clashing thoughts, some of your hidden feelings for the boy were pushing you to beg him to stay. Wonwoo waited for you to process the information he suddenly pushed onto you. He shifted his eyes to you to see how you were coping; he knew it was going to be hard for the both of you to be so far from each other; Seoul being on the other side of South Korea, from Changwon. It scared him to be away from his family, but he wanted to seize the moment, but he wanted to know if you would be alright with his absence.

Wonwoo silently intertwined his cold fingers with yours, a habit that the two of you unconsciously did when in need of comfort; or whenever his hands lacked warmth. Your hands were still so small and warm in his, something that he found comical since you were kids. But now, as growing young adults, the both of you knew that fate was bound to tear the two of you apart sooner or later. With lacklustre enthusiasm, you looked at Wonwoo with glassy eyes and a painful smile, giving a soft squeeze to give him more warmth.

“I’m happy for you.”

Jeon Wonwoo is no idiot. He knew that his departure to Seoul would significantly affect the both of you. The day of his departure finally arrived. He said goodbyes to family, and the two of you found yourself sitting side by side at the train platform, waiting for his train. The wait was silent for the most part, you had cried to yourself the night leading up to this day, and you were not expecting to fight your tears again today as you sat with him for the last time in a while. Without looking at him, you quietly reached for his hand and warmed it in yours. Wonwoo allowed your actions and silently watched you, a growing pit of sadness built inside him as your grip on his hand tightened with the whistle of the approaching train. It was time for him to leave.

The two of you stood up and looked at each other one last time. Your tears were flowing out now, causing Wonwoo to chuckle at you (even as you softly hit his chest) and wiped them away. You pulled him into a tight hug, the two of you pouring out your feelings into it, your tears staining his jacket and your hands clutching the fabric. The two of you gripped onto each other for the last time until the train’s doors opened. His hands slid down to your hand one last time as the two of you gave one last squeeze. And as his fingers slipped away from your warmth, he felt his heart clench at the sight of you standing alone on the platform crying. With a heavy heart and an unfamiliar feeling in his heart, Wonwoo boarded the train to Seoul with his luggage in hand.

~

It had only been a few days since Wonwoo left his hometown when he received a letter from you. You had mailed it in a decorated envelope that came in a hefty pack that you had bought from the stationary store near your school. Wonwoo recognized the envelope design and chuckled to himself, remembering how excited you got when he bought it for you. However, when he called you about the letter, you refused to speak about it and told him if he wanted to say anything, he would have to write back.

In your letter, you spoke about how life was doing in your hometown and about how it felt different without him there. You talked about his family and how you were preparing for the upcoming year at Changwon National University. You stated your purpose of the letter, explaining that although it is cliché, you claimed a warmth that one could feel when receiving a handwritten letter from someone close to you. Wonwoo let out a chuckle, humored to see your familiar behavior even when written out.

Wonwoo wrote back to you the same day and happily mailed it at the post office near his dorm. And without knowing it, he would excitedly wait for your next letter to arrive and would internally scream whenever a decorated envelope would sit in his mailbox. As the year progressed, the pile of letters from you grew. Wonwoo kept them in a small box on his desk and would read them over whenever he missed you or home. Polaroids from back home that you sent to him in each letter were taped onto his wall; a certain polaroid of you smiling with a lollipop stuck in your hair was hidden in his phone case. He found comfort in having your photo back there; he had a piece of you with him all the time, plus it was his favorite out of all the pictures of you.

His Uni friends were aware of your presence and how important you were to him. Wonwoo’s roommate, Seungcheol, would tease him often about you because the speckled man would close himself from the world until he finished the letter. Seungcheol didn’t mind, though; he found it cute how whipped Wonwoo was for the girl in the letters. Plus, you had sent Wonwoo’s roommate a lollipop in compensation for having to deal with him, so Seungcheol thought nicely of you. The rest of the 11 men Wonwoo befriended would poke and prod him about “his girl back home.” Which he would deny despite his quickening heart rate when speaking to you on the phone or through letters.

As school got increasingly difficult and the work began to pile up for the both of you, the letters stopped for a while after a mutual understanding that your lives were getting busy. Wonwoo had sent the last letter, which meant that he had to wait for you to send a response to continue the chain. Throughout the break, Wonwoo would continue to deny any claim that prompted him to miss the letters from you. He always had his phone to contact you whenever he wanted to. Despite him waving off his friends’ comments, there was a large part of him that longed to see another one of your decorated envelopes sitting inside his mailbox. There was something heartwarming about receiving letters because it took time to make and deliver. Letters took time out of your day, and he could tell that you wrote in detail, fearful of missing a detail that would have to wait for the following letter. 

Now, Jeon Wonwoo is not an idiot. He always took into mind what his friends thought about him and would reflect on his day to find ways to improve himself. One particular day was filled with his friends’ teasing had brought Wonwoo to question if he held secret feelings for you that he was unaware about. His thoughts were brought back to when the two of you were still children, racing each other to school or just simply playing in the park that the two of you would frequently return to even as you grew older. Wonwoo even remembered attending the annual cherry blossom festival with you multiple times, your families attending every so often. However, it was you who would push him to attend. One particular festival, however, he remembered holding your hand while walking under the falling cherry blossoms. As if he were put into a trance, he watched you in awe as you pulled him through the hallway of falling petals. Wonwoo furiously shook his head in embarrassment while laying down in his bed that night.

He only saw you as some childhood friend… right?

Wonwoo shivered and tightly wrapped himself in his blanket; his hands were freezing. He tossed around on his bed to rid his thoughts of you for the rest of the night. Unbeknownst to him, his longing thoughts of you would continue on for the rest of the week. He would space out so often that his friends would call him out for it, noticing an unusual difference in school performance and behavior. One of his friends, Minghao, even noticed that he would be holding his phone to rub the back of his case, to which he texted Wonwoo with concern afterwards. Wonwoo couldn’t understand why he was acting like this either. Everything that he looked at reminded him of you; even his side of the dorm had remnants of you. From the stickers you secretly super-glued onto his laptop to the blanket you gave him that was sitting on his bed. He was sick of it.

“Maybe I’m just homesick,” he would try telling himself. 

It wasn’t until he saw a particular decorated envelope sitting in his mailbox that he felt his heart rate rise at a spectacular rate as he giddily sped into the dorm room. Seungcheol was sleeping on his bed when he entered, his light snores filling up the silence in the room.

Wonwoo dropped the rest of the mail on the coffee table and jumped onto his bed, ripping open the envelope to see what you had to offer this time. To his surprise, there were no polaroids but instead, a small cherry blossom petal encased in tape. Confused, Wonwoo took out the letter to read why you had changed the usual trinket.

Your letter this time described your most precious memories together, from just sitting on the swings of your childhood park near your houses and eating whatever snack you had to chew on, to the fond memories that the two of you had shared from the cherry blossom festivals that you would drag Wonwoo to. In the letter, you told him that the sealed flower petal was from one of the festivals that the two of you had attended. It went on to apologize for the long wait for the letter and that it wouldn’t happen again. There was a small space of hesitation in the letter. The letter abruptly closed after the apology and written in a small font was an instruction to call you before reading the letter. 

There was something important that you wanted to discuss with him, you wrote.

Wonwoo felt nervous; he gently closed the letter and grabbed his phone. He glanced at his snoring roommate before getting up and leaving the dorm room, the taped flower petal in his hand. Wonwoo made his way up to the rooftop, a quieter place to have a phone call with you and he wouldn’t disturb Seungcheol, before clicking on your contact, every ring making his stomach sink deeper. 

“Hello?” 

Wonwoo unconsciously smiled before greeting you back; he had forgotten how pleasant your voice sounded. The two of you caught up for a while before asking why he had called. Wonwoo hesitated and began to fiddle with the petal in his pocket. He proceeded to tell you that he received your most recent letter and your direction to call him. Wonwoo let out a small laugh while telling you how unique the taped petal was, bringing it out of his pocket to observe it. There was a moment of silence on your end, the feeling of dread returning to Wonwoo’s stomach. You made an unintelligible noise before groaning out that there was something important that you needed to tell him. Wonwoo’s grip on the petal tightened.

“I’ve loved you for a long time now.”

~

Seungcheol could tell something was wrong. When he got ready to leave the dorm to his job, Wonwoo quietly slinked into their shared unit and laid face flat on his bed. Seungcheol called out to him and asked if he was okay only to receive a muffled groan in response. He didn’t want to leave his roommate like this, but his boss would kill him if he were late again. With a heavy sigh, Seungcheol left the dorm, shouting to Wonwoo to eat something before he gets home.

As soon as the door closed, Wonwoo turned his head to get air and pulled out the petal from his pocket. Your words were still ringing in his ear and the way you abruptly hung up after telling him that the feelings didn’t have to be mutual. His thoughts were in turmoil, did he like you that way?

Wonwoo’s hands felt cold again, he pulled his sleeves over them.

For the next few days Wonwoo was even more out of his normal self and his friends were completely aware of it. They were weary on approaching him about it though, Wonwoo wasn’t the type to speak about his feelings to them. They could tell that he would be thinking about it too, his cheeks would turn the slightest bit of pink whenever he would space out, a mumbled “she likes me” escaping him once. He couldn’t not think about you, you were everywhere to him. It was similar to when he missed your letters but enhanced because of your confession. Wonwoo would space out more often than usual, enough for the boys to actually become annoyed at him. When his studies were being affected by this though, Seungcheol decided to step in and talk to him once and for all.

It had been five days since your call and there was a small yet growing pile of missing assignments from Wonwoo’s classes. Seungcheol opened the door to the dorm and found Wonwoo quickly shoving the box of letters behind him. Seungcheol raised his eyebrows at Wonwoo and shifted his eyes to look at the taped petal on his roommate’s bed, which Wonwoo immediately covered with his hand. Seungcheol let out a tired sigh and took a seat on his own bed across Wonwoo’s, giving him a serious look.

“You and I both know that you like her,” he started, Wonwoo couldn’t look at his older roommate. “I don’t know when you’re going to accept it but we both know that this,” Seungcheol motioned towards the scattered papers on Wonwoo’s desk, “won’t end unless you finally make up your mind.”

Seungcheol stood up from his bed, “Don’t think I don’t see you rereading her letters or that I didn’t see you hide her photo behind your phone,” Wonwoo froze, “you’ve got it bad man, everyone sees it except you.” Seungcheol then left the dorm, mentioning something about joining him and Jeonghan once he gets himself together.

Wonwoo continued to think about his feelings for you through the night, his roommate’s smack of reality helped him concentrate a bit better. It was Sunday, and Wonwoo was trying to complete his missing assignments from before. Wonwoo groaned in frustration and slammed his pencil down onto the unfinished calculus homework. He shifted his eyes to his phone, his heart beating a bit faster when the thought of him calling you crossed his mind. Wonwoo peeled his phone case off and cradled the small polaroid of you in his hand, his thumb rubbing over your face in the photograph and smiling as he saw the stuck lollipop in your hair. Wonwoo then reached for taped petal sitting on his bare phone; he had been hiding it there with your photograph to keep it safe. Wonwoo felt his face warm, your words ringing in his ear once more as his heart raced.

He did love you after all.

Something inside Wonwoo snapped. He got up quickly and took a look at the window, the sun was about to set. Wonwoo hurriedly shoved your photo and the petal into his pocket, grabbed his phone and wallet, and hastily toppled his books standing on top of your box of letters. With that in hand, he ran to the train station, purchased a ticket, and hopped on a train going straight to Changwon station.

Jeon Wonwoo watched the scenery outside of the train window as the machine made its way to Changwon. The sun had set a good hour ago, the lampposts outside illuminating the dark land beyond. Wonwoo unconsciously clenches the box of letters in his cold hands, his thoughts consisted of you, his leg jumping anxiously as he waited for the train to reach its destination. It was a two-hour trip by bullet train, he didn’t care that he spent so much money on a ticket, Wonwoo needed to see you.

He sent a quick text to Seungcheol that he was alive and was going somewhere for the night and turned off his ringer, he knew he was going to receive a horrible scolding for this once he got back but he focused more on the task in hand. Wonwoo clenched his cold fingers to get the warmth that he lacked, and carefully took out your photo and the petal he had carelessly shoved inside his pocket. The laminated petal was doing well, and your photo was crumpled now from his running, his fingers smoothing out the creases on the photograph before rubbing his thumb on your printed face.

The train’s chime woke Wonwoo up, the doors of the train slowly opening. Wonwoo shook himself awake and grabbed his belongings before making his way out. He was immediately hit with nostalgia as soon as he stepped out of the train.

The station looked the same as it always did. Wonwoo’s heart clenching at the sight of the seats the two of you sat on the day of his departure. He looked at his phone to check the time only to be met with a black screen; his phone had died.

As panic started to settle inside Wonwoo, he had a running start out of the station to your house, the street lampposts lighting his way through the familiar streets from your childhood. Memories floated around him, each and every spot in this town had a memory of you in it. From the races to school in the mornings, to buying you those envelopes you loved at the stationary store near your houses, and eating snacks at the park late at night, Wonwoo found himself standing in front of your house holding your box of letters in his arm.

Your room’s light was on and he felt his heart soar. He was here. He continuously knocked on the door, his heartbeat growing faster and faster as he heard your footsteps grow louder.

And there you were. Clad in a stolen shirt of his from high school, shorts, and a pair of fuzzy socks, you were as beautiful as he had left you.

You jumped into his arms, him dropping the box of letters to catch you and latch his arms around you. You disregarded all your feelings and tears you released for the past few days, all the anger and stress were being relieved being in his arms, you buried your face into his shoulder as he lifted you off the ground. Your best friend was home.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened, tears resurfacing once more. Did you hear that right? Wonwoo held you close to him as he whispered in your ear.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

You leaned back to see his reddened face illuminated by the street lampposts and let out a happy laugh as tears ran down your face.

“You came all this way just to tell me that?”

You giggled out as he softly kissed your forehead, a soft blush rising up your neck.

“No matter the distance, I’ll always run to you if it means I can tell you that I love you.”

A bright smile appeared on your face before burying it in his chest and interlocking fingers with his.

And suddenly, Wonwoo’s hands didn’t feel cold anymore.

~

Turns out, that petal you sent to him was from the festival that you realized that you were in love with your best friend. Wonwoo teased you, laying on your bed that Monday morning. You explained that if he didn’t hold the same feelings as you did then you would rather let go of the petal than to hold onto it.

Wonwoo looked at you with sincere eyes, interlacing his cold hands with yours to get you to look at him. He sat up and pulled you up with him, him placing a soft kiss on your lips as you got up. The two of you smiled at each other, sharing another kiss.

His and your box of letters sitting next to each other on your desk, Wonwoo never felt warmer with you here.

~

Then I can find you, who cares if it’s a bit far?

I’ll follow the line that connects us two

When you said you engraved my name in your heart

Remember why my eyes grew so big

 Right now, you and I, we both need the same thing

But I don’t have it so let’s meet again later

Please be well until I get there

I’m going to run to you

Flower (c.sc)

genre: HARD ANGST

pairing: S.Coups (Choi Seungcheol) x reader

series: Song Fic Series! - If I

word count: 2.3k

WARNINGS: major character death, mentions of blood, hospitalization, and disease.

summary: regret and mourning

author’s notes: are posted separately!! take a look if you’re feeling bored LOL

MASTERLIST

If the word I said countlessly came true

Seungcheol tirelessly dragged his feet up the hospital stairs, quietly telling himself to stay strong for one more day before entering your hospital room. There wasn't much to the room you stayed in, it was just as bleak as the others in the building. Yours though had a vase full of vibrant flowers adorning the table beside the guest chair.

A bright smile graced your features at the sight of him. You were sitting upright to get a good look at the view outside of your hospital window before he walked in. Bright rays of sunlight leaked into your room, bathing you in the sun's warm hug. Your sketchbook lay open on the overbed table, two small aster flowers sitting on the page of a finished sketch of the plant.

Seungcheol gifted you a chaste kiss before placing his belongings next to the vase of flowers and pulled the guest chair to your bed, ready to talk to you about his day. Speckled scars from your IV needle graced the top of your hand, Seungcheol being cautious when taking your hand in his. The shared smiles and faint giggles in this bleak room were more than enough for him; even the quiet conversations and comforting silences were perfect to him, just as long as he was with you.

Seungcheol wanted to pretend that everything was normal. He wanted you to feel normal and happy despite the sudden relapse of your childhood disease. He wanted to pretend that your skin wasn’t losing its color each day that you remained in the hospital or that you weren’t dying and that any day could be your last. He clung to you, childishly, wanting to spend every minute with you.

If I, if I, if I

The to-do list, because I couldn’t do it, its meaning is completely changed

Seungcheol still had his share of responsibilities despite his wishes to stay by your side 24/7. He still had college and a job to pay rent, which he became disinterested in both. A growing number of absences began appearing on Seungcheol’s school record; the frequent warnings from his boss no longer bothered him. He could no longer concentrate on anything other than you, and his life was being affected by it.

Seungcheol would often reminisce about the memories with you outside of the hospital when your paling skin was still its vibrant color and your smile wider and brighter than it is now. Memories where you would drag him to different places that he had never seen or noticed before or experience something new and fun. Seungcheol smiled to himself, remembering how eager and wide-eyed you were to see the world even before the two of you started dating. He was able to experience and come to understand your perspective as an artist. And he admired you for it, your ability to see beauty in everything, even in him.

And within that month where Seungcheol finally managed to ask you out and become his significant other, he was able to experience pure love and adoration from you. It is because of this love he refuses to accept the reality coming between your relationship with him.

There was still so much that he wanted to do and see with you; the different dates and days that he could only envision with you in it would only remain in his imagination. Everything that he had planned out would remain undone ever since you were admitted to the hospital.

Seungcheol’s to-do list no longer consisted of different escapades with you, but only to see you smile every day.

If I, if I, if I

I didn’t want to calculate the widened angle between us

You knew you didn’t have much time left; the doctors informing you that your time is limited, the disease spreading through your body too fast to cure. Your sickness weakened your body each day; it was growing harder to wake up from the worsening fatigue. It was something that you didn't want to think about or bring up when you were with Seungcheol, despite him being aware of what was to come.

You could tell that your worsening health was taking a toll on him. You were aware that he was ditching classes and that his job position was being threatened. You knew that he wanted to spend all of his time with you and that you did too. You loved him with all that you had to give; he became your everything without realizing it.

You often cried about the thought of dying and leaving everything behind, usually when Seungcheol left for his night shift or those rare times that he was in school (after scolding him). There were times that you despised yourself for causing so much pain to the person you have grown to love. There were nights where you cried, wishing that you were never diagnosed with this cursed disease, that you had a life with no more medication and pain, to repay Seungcheol for all that he has done while you were, hospitalized. You hated being so weak in front of him, sometimes pushing him away even though you wanted him to stay with you. You cried in fear when he was not there with you, selfish tears falling during the night at the thought of him finding someone else to love apart from you.

As the number of days you spent in the hospital rose, the weaker your body became; the pain in your chest from heartbreak and disease became more evident as breathing became difficult day by day.

With a sudden urge to draw you focused your strength into grabbing the pencil laying on the crease of your sketchbook. Everyday actions had grown increasingly difficult with your weakening strength. The pencil felt heavy in your hand, like carrying bricks, and you brought your other to help stabilize your shaking hand. A quiet sob escaping your lips from frustration and anger as the line on the paper scribbled into nothing. The silent clinking of your pencil hitting the ground didn’t make it to your ears as hot tears fell down your face. Your hands fell to your sides, weak and tired from something so simple. A sudden pain struck your chest making your body lurch forward. A violent array of coughs erupted from you; small droplets of blood mixed with your saliva stained the blank pages of the sketchbook. With blurry vision, you continued to fight for air, the quickening noises of the heart monitor dulling into a loud ringing in your ears as fuzzy images of nurses rushed into the room.

Your eyes shifted to the corner of the room where a vase of wilting flowers sat. Its petals splayed on the guest table, brown and limp, some falling like the confetti for their funeral.

If I-

Seungcheol was looking at the bright colors of the flowers behind the shop's window on his way to you. The colors reminded him of you in a way; the flower’s vibrant petals livened up the dreary afternoon he was experiencing.  

It wasn’t the first time he had been in the shop; Seungcheol had been getting flowers for you here since you hospitalized that the employees at the store began to recognize him whenever he came by. Seungcheol purchased a bouquet of chrysanthemums, as recommended by the florist who told him that it symbolized joy and long life, before heading to the hospital to do his daily visit.

The sky was filled with dark clouds, hiding the sun when Seungcheol made it to the hospital entrance. There was a bad feeling in his stomach and the weather was not helping with his growing anxiety. His grip on the flowers tightened as he hurried his way up to the floor your room was on.

Seungcheol felt his stomach drop at the sight of nurses rushing in and out of your room. He slowly staggered to your open door, pushing through some of the nurses crowding the area to get to you.

Visions and images of you came flooding into his mind as he inched closer to the door, his mind imagined your smiling face, smiling for him and him alone, and you that would jump into his arms and press kisses on his face telling him that you had healed. He imagined walking with you, hand in hand, out of this grim place and taking you to the beaches of Jeju, dancing on the shoreline. And he imagined saying his vows to you, dressed up so prettily with his friends and family around the two of you, and seeing his ring sit on your finger forever.

Seungcheol stopped breathing at the sight of your limp hand dangling on the edge of your bed.

Nurses pushed him out of the way in a rush to save you as he stood there, the chaos in the hall filtered out by the loud ringing of the flat line on your heart monitor. The ringing didn’t stop.

I’m late but even now, my eyes and mouth are full of you; A day passes and the regret is too deep- I’m drowning in it

Jihoon had been the one to take Seungcheol out of the hospital. He received a call earlier from the hospital, Jihoon's number being listed under Seungcheol’s emergency contact papers after your name, telling him to remove Seungcheol from the waiting room.

Jihoon quickly grabbed Seungcheol's prepped overnight bag and brought him to his apartment complex. The tight-lipped man didn’t want his friend to be by himself, so he welcomed Seungcheol to stay with him until he was stable enough to be on his own.

Seungcheol felt himself drifting. His head and heart felt empty as if he were floating in space, drifting aimlessly forever without anywhere to go.

Nothing felt real to him anymore; he would often think that he was stuck in the void that your passing had created in his head.

There were times where he would close the world out, where everything would turn black. And suddenly, you would appear, your skin returned to its glowing and natural color, your smile would be shining as it always did whenever he saw you, and your hand would take him, so warm and alive, pulling him into the embrace that he craved and begged so much to have one last time.

His eyes filled to the brim with tears for you, soft broken whimpers of your name escaping his mouth during the night that Jihoon would hear through the thin bedroom walls of the guest room while working. Jihoon could only hang his head in shame, praying for his friend to find peace with your passing.

Seungcheol felt like he was drowning, regret building inside of him. His hopes and dreams that he wished to fulfill with you suffocated him.

If I could have given you the proper support…

If I could have given you that last kiss…

If I could have given you that last ‘I love you’…

If I could still have time.

I’ll do whatever to love you again.

~

Where you going, where are you going

Why do I feel my grip loosening

My fist holding onto the edge of your clothes

Why am I losing strength

Our path, our promise to be together

Is already thwarted and you walk away

Turning your back on me

 It reduces to a single dot

It’s too empty outside of that interest

I hope that that dot

Comes back before me and turns into you

 If I could

If I could

If I could

I’ll do whatever

…

Seungcheol stands in front of your grave years after your death, a fresh aster flower in his hand as he reminisces on the memories the two of you shared in your younger years. These memories that could only bring him sadness in the past made him smile, time allowing his wound of you to heal in his heart. The thoughts of "what could have been" were able to fade with time as well.

Sometimes though, a few tears would escape. Seungcheol let out a sniffle, a dopey smile gracing his features as he apologized to you. He gently placed the flower on your headstone, his fingers tracing the grooves of your carved name on the stone as he did every time he visited you. He let his hand linger just a bit longer on your grave as he longed silently, hoping his prayers get to you. A ring of love adorned his ring finger as the rays of the sun bounced off the metal. Seungcheol’s face now with visible signs of age, smiled once more at your grave, whispering the words he wished he could have said to you before your passing,

 “I’ll love you forever my flower.”

 If we can walk this path together again

I want to hold your hands and give you warmth

If I hold your cheeks with warmed hands

Will you smile again for me?

Then let’s do.

 If I

Proud (k.sy)

genre: fluffy + some angst

pairing: Hoshi (Kwon Soonyoung) x gn!reader

word count: ~980

summary: comfort and confrontation

author’s notes: are posted separately!! take a look if you’re feeling bored LOL

MASTERLIST

Soonyoung snuggled closer to you, his head laying on your stomach as your fingers softly threaded through his silver locks, his light snores signaling that he had fallen asleep. You looked down at your boyfriend, a smile gracing your features, your heart drumming in your chest. He still managed to make your heart race despite the years you spent together.  

You continued to comb through his hair, thinking how peaceful he looked at this moment. Soonyoung had been busy with promotions for the comeback and his solo that the two of you rarely had time together. You let out a quiet sigh, not wanting to disturb the sleeping boy.

You grew to love Soonyoung. From his hardworking demeanor to accepting his stubbornness when insisting that he had to work harder. As much as you admired him for being able to take on so much and to come successful, you couldn’t help but worry about him from time to time.

Like Jihoon, he would push himself to give his all in everything that he did Soonyoung would continue fighting and struggling to get the best results out of the fear of failure; it’s this similarity that makes them so alike.

You shuddered at the thought of the small arguments the two of you had when he would push himself too hard. 

You would apologize not that long after, nonetheless. It wasn’t in your intention to stress Soonyoung more than he already was, and he knew that you were doing this because you were worried about his state. It brought the two of you to now, him relaxing in your arms. 

You lovingly stared at Soonyoung as you gently traced your fingers down his jaw.

You loved him so much. 

It wasn’t fair that he pushed himself so hard like this. You didn’t want him to burn out or to hurt himself in the process of doing something he loved. Even if it proved difficult to convince him to take a nap or even snuggle, it still scared you that he would continue pushing himself to his limit. 

You understood that he knew what he was doing and loved every second dancing, finding every second as an opportunity to improve. Yet Soonyoung tended to punish himself when things wouldn’t work out. Whether it be overtime in the studio or even in the gym, you would find him pushing himself until he couldn’t go anymore. 

You remembered opening the gym doors to drag Soonyoung home when he suddenly fell from the pull-up bar. You were about to run to him when he slowly pushed himself up, arms trembling from exhaustion, before punching the ground in frustration. You froze, watching his shoulders shake from where you were standing, his quiet sobs hurting you more than you could ever imagine. You remembered how painful it felt to see him in that state, and it didn’t take you that long to rush to his side to wipe away his tears and to take his sweaty body into your arms. 

Soonyoung stirred in his sleep, slowly waking up to the sound of your sniffling. It took him a few moments to process what was happening before pulling himself up to embrace you, your fingers gently clawing at the sweater he was wearing.

“What happened baby?” he whispered while stroking the back of your head, his voice a bit raspy from waking up. 

“I love you so much, you know that right?” you sniffled into his clothes. Even if it was unclear, he was still able to hear you, a smug grin creeping its way onto his face. Soonyoung giggled at you, pulling you from his tear-stained sweater to wipe your eyes. 

“You’re crying because you love me?” he teased, his hands coming up to squish your cheeks together; he found you adorable, his grin widening as he saw you pout in his hands.

“Yes, I am,” you pouted, your eyes sore from the tears. You pounced on Soonyoung, knocking him onto his back, burying your face into the crook of his neck, his arms snaking around your waist to keep you in place. The two of you relaxed against each other, allowing the peaceful silence to take over. 

“Please take care of yourself Soonyoung,” you mumbled into his neck, knowing he could hear you. 

Soonyoung sighed before bringing his hand up to stroke your hair, “I’m sorry Y/n,” he kissed the crown of your head, “I’ll try better for you.” 

You looked up at your boyfriend, pushing yourself up to kiss him. Soonyoung kissed back, his hand holding your cheek in place as your lips gently pressed against each other. When you pulled away, you nudged your forehead with his.

You gazed into his eyes, feeling heart race once more, “You are better, Tiger. You are enough,” Soonyoung’s breath got caught in his throat, “You’re enough for me, Soonyoung, and that’s more than I can ask for.” 

The two of you sat up again, “I love you so much, Soonyoung,” you caressed his cheek, “you’re everything that I could ask. I’m so proud of you baby,” You wiped the tears falling down his face.

“Your work isn’t going unnoticed, baby, and you’re working so hard. I’m in awe whenever I see you. You’re so bright and burning with creativity and passion,” you wiped another tear before cupping his face so his eyes would meet yours, “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself when things don’t go your way.” Soonyoung buried his face in your chest, his short hiccups muffled by your shirt. 

“Everything will work itself out Soonie, you’ve gotten so far and worked too hard for it to not to.” You ran your fingers through his hair, “I’m so proud of you, baby,” you whispered to him, Soonyoung’s arms tightening around your waist, “I’m so proud.”

yall i edited it i think its finally cool now guys please i like sobbed three times while trying to edit help hey you should def give it a read tho what omg 

Flower (c.sc)

genre: HARD ANGST

pairing: S.Coups (Choi Seungcheol) x reader

series: Song Fic Series! - If I

word count: 2.3k

WARNINGS: major character death, mentions of blood, hospitalization, and disease.

summary: regret and mourning

author’s notes: are posted separately!! take a look if you’re feeling bored LOL

MASTERLIST

Keep reading

Burning | blurb~ (l.jh)

“Just because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean I don’t like you.” Jihoon looks away from you, his ears burning a bright red. You look up at him in surprise, the tears failing to stop from the frustration you had felt from him ignoring you for the past few days.  

“I just,” Jihoon started, his brows furrowing, “I didn’t understand what I was feeling. This has never happened before, and if it has, then it must’ve happened a long time ago that I can’t remember.” When he looks up his heart stutters again, the sight of you making his heart race.

“I don’t want you to cry over my stupidity… I don’t deserve your tears,” Jihoon reaches up and gently wipes away the tears staining your cheeks before carefully tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I like you so much Yn. I like you so much that I think I’m going crazy.” Jihoon’s hand hesitates for a moment before placing it on yours, bringing it up to his heart. “My heart’s going insane right now, I can barely concentrate and every song I try composing always ends up being about you, and just you being around me makes me feel so giddy that I feel like throwing up,” he brings your hand to his cheek, “and worst of all, I can never hide it because I’m always burning red around you.”

“My heart burns for you Yn. I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

SOONYOUNG MY BABY🤧🤧🤧🤌

Make it Make Sense [Part 2]

pairings: soonyoung x fem!reader, mild wonwoo x fem!reader

(ft. Jihoon and Seungkwan, some other made up characters who just happen to have similar names to Kpop idols if it shows up)

synopsis: you’re hopelessly in love with your roommate and best friend, wonwoo, yet you’re fucking his least favorite person, kwon soonyoung? make it make sense.

genre/warnings: explicit smut (minors DNI!!), unprotected sex but not really cuz it wasn't "real", cowgirl, creampie, exhibitionism(?), male masturbation, wonwoo has many horny thoughts, soonyoung is kinda possessive, nudity, hickeys, suggestive touching in public, use of profanity, vomit, period stains, mentions of food, fluff, angst, fwb, one-sided pining, SO MUCH jealousy, unedited because im still shy

wc: ~6k oops-

a/n: thank you all so much for your feedback on the first drabble 😭😭😭 tbh, i was shocked to see it so well received since this really isn't my realm of writing 🥺 i hope you all enjoy this next part just as much! jeon wonwoo is fricking filthy 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡 As always, I would love to hear your thots thoughts. A special thanks to @sleeplessdawn for helping make wonwoo's character much spicier 😉😘 thank you for always supporting me!! filthy or not 😂

previous || next

It was never Wonwoo’s intent to overhear your muffled moans this late at night. 

The walls of your shared apartment were thin. His soundproof gaming headset did well to conceal the sounds of whatever was going on your side of the apartment, but the moment he took them off after his fifteenth round of Sudden Attack, he heard things that perhaps he shouldn’t have heard from his best friend. Your whimpering, his moans, muffled what he presumed to be praises, the occasional knock of the bed frame against the wall. Wonwoo knew it wasn’t right because it was you and admittedly he was embarrassed, but . . . it made him hard. 

His breath hitched in his throat as he felt his dick twitch in his shorts, flexing his abdomen in an attempt to control his erection. All the layers of briefs and shorts covering his member were  starting to feel rather tight. Wonwoo refused to look down, keeping his eyes trained on his desktop screen, the menu of the game blinking in front of him and reflecting off his spectacles. This was so messed up, getting high to the sounds of you having sex. It’s not that Wonwoo didn’t expect you to do such things – you were human and had your own needs too. However, this was the first time you’ve ever brought anyone home in the five years of the two of you living together. It was sinful to know you sounded heavenly. 

Suddenly, a shriek of satisfaction echoed through the empty hallways, riveting off Wonwoo’s bedroom walls. It was followed by a low chuckle that presumably belonged to your partner. 

“Fuck,” Wonwoo grumbled as he felt it twitch yet again – more intensely this time. He keeled forward, his hands flying to cup his dick. This was getting unbearable – he had to do something about it. Just as he was getting up out of his gamer chair, a soft warble from his computer sounded, indicating a new message on his Discord. 

$Coups: Another round?

Wonderful timing – truly, Choi Seungcheol. 

nowonwoo: Nah – tired. 

$Coups: k - night. 

Carelessly ripping off his headset and throwing it haphazardly onto his chair, Wonwoo quickly closed his browser and stumbled towards his bed. He flopped onto his bed, reaching into his shorts to relieve his member of all the restraints. A shaky sigh escaping his lips, he squeezed his eyes shut as he gingerly wrapped his hand around his phallus, in fear of the tactile stimulation being too much that he would scream and you would hear him. He started moving his hand from the middle of his shaft to the base, then slowly up towards the tip. It’s been a while since he’s masturbated, but the terrain was familiar, recognizing each ridge of his veins pulsing against his own touch. Precum dripped from his opening, sliding down the sides of his tip as he brushed his thumb over it. He used it as a lube to smoothen the return to the base. 

It was then when he heard another series of soft groans – probably the both of yours this time. Eager to get to his high, Wonwoo quickened his hand moving, the sound of his hand rubbing his slick all over his member filling the room. Feeling his own grunt bubbling from his chest, he clamped his forearm over his lips, harshly biting into the material of his sweater. 

Yet this wasn’t enough. 

It was as if he was a kid reaching for a pint of ice cream, where he had grown enough, but not enough for him to pull it from the shelf. 

Wonwoo needed more. 

This whole time, he had stopped himself from thinking about you. He could listen to you (not that he had a choice), but he refused to see you in his imagination. Instead, he tried thinking about the last few times he slept with his ex-girlfriend, Jiyoung, though they weren’t together anymore. It didn’t work, however, Wonwoo knowing well any feelings for the girl ended with their relationship; not to mention he was the one who broke it off. 

Hence, he let his mind wander to you. As he ran his hand up and down, he pictured it being your velvet walls hugging his cock. Thighs straddled on either side of his hips, you pulled back up, clenching your pussy around him, as if to squeeze out all the cum left in his body, and then sank down on him, sucking him in whole. With his tip at the hilt, your hips swiveled in a circular motion, not letting him go. Perhaps, he’d let his hand reach up to your perfect tits, squeezing them tight before letting them glide over your shoulder, down your biceps and towards your forearm, where he’d let his hands slip into yours, gently caressing them before bringing your left hand to his lips and planting a soft, lingering kiss on the small semicolon tattoo on your wrist. Your walls fluttered around him as his feathery touch. Your ass still bouncing off his balls, you reached down to kiss him, your lips working against each other in a forbidden dance, the two of you exchanging soft sighs. The mix of your sweet breaths so close to his face, they fogged his glasses. You giggled at the sight of him in his bleary spectacles, the gentle tinkle of it tickling something in his chest, eliciting a low, rumbling chortle from him too. His hands on your waist, he rubbed soothing circles into your hip bone as he guided you along his dick, your walls fluttering around him. 

“Cum inside of me,” he wanted you to say just as his dick twitched against your g-spot, making you whimper and heave forward, breasts hanging in his face. 

And so he did. 

Well, he would if this scenario was actually real. 

Hot, sticky cream covering his hands and soiling his shorts, Wonwoo let his arm fall from his mouth, the sleeve of his sweater stained with saliva in the shape of his bite. He slowly peeled his eyes open, being met with the sight of his cracked ceiling instead of your pretty eyes hanging above him. He drew his sticky hands away as his dick fell limp. Pressing his lips into a tight line, the guilt and shame of getting off the thought of you having sex with him began filling his insides. His stomach churned as did his chest, heat speckling his cheeks. Carelessly, he wiped his hand off on his bedsheets, just wondering what the fuck he just did. 

You have been Wonwoo’s best friend since middle school. 

The same girl with the two braids and braces that offered him, the then new student, Teddy Grahams on his first day smack in the middle of the year. 

The same girl who in high school cried into his shoulder, tears, snot, and all, because she was embarrassed about walking around all day with a period stain on her white shorts. 

The same girl who he cleaned vomit off her face after her first frat party in university when Kim Mingyu made her drink too much. 

He didn’t have feelings for you, but why was it easier to get off at the thought of you? Let alone, having it be so vulgar.

Perhaps it was because you were right across the hall, having sex too. 

Yeah. 

That was probably it. 

Sitting up from his bed, curiosity struck: With whom?

He made his way to the bathroom to clean off, grabbing a fresh pair of briefs and shorts on his way, the question weighing heavy on his mind. 

You weren’t dating anyone right now, neither were you interested in anyone – Wonwoo would be the first to know.

Hands on the light switch, he stopped in his tracks, a new, infectious thought invading his mind. 

It wasn’t him . . . ?

Right?

Not him – ever. 

No – it couldn’t be. 

It was just a rumor, Wonwoo knew you knew better than to engage in any sort of activity with Kwon Soonyoung.

At a gathering with your mutual friends at the bar a few months ago, in his drunken dazed, Wonwoo had overheard Hyejin talking to Seungkwan and Jihoon about it. 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Seungkwan had shook his head, his face twisted at the bitter drink he just sipped. “They’re like . . . night and day.”

Hyejin clicked her teeth. “I disagree – on the surface, they seem different, but if you think about it, they actually kind of make sense? They both got that no-in-between kind of personality: they’re either running at 100 miles per hour or laying on the couch eating potato chips.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t mean they’re like,” Seungkwan grimaced at the thought, “Sexually compatible?” he waved off the girl, “She’s rough, but she’s the committed type.”

“You never know,” Hyejin sang, “I saw what I saw – that man looked like he got a little something-something walking out of the bathroom, and Y/N’s hair was definitely messed up. Also, don’t you think it’s weird? Neither Y/N or Soonyoung are here tonight either.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, and turned to Jihoon. “What do you think? You live with Soonyoung – is Y/N and him smashing?”

Jihoon let out a brisk ‘tsk,’ shoving his friend’s by the forehead with his two fingers. “Can we change the subject? I don’t want to have the image of my two friends having sex engrained in my brain for the rest of the night. Besides, so what if they are? They’re grown adults!”

At the time, Wonwoo didn’t think much of it, but now with what he just heard from your room, the possibility was hitting too close to home. Looking back as well, Hyejin’s suspicions were seemingly more and more believable. Your (and Soonyoung’s) prolonged absences at get-togethers, the nights you’d never come home – it was starting to become too real for his liking. Obviously as your best friend, he needed to know – now. 

It’s why he found himself knocking at your door asking for you to open up. 

“Can I come in?” he asked. 

Another silence, then a beat. 

He gulped down the lump in his throat, raising his hand to knock again. 

The lock to your door clicked and he saw the brass knob start to turn slowly. Finally, your head peeking through the crack.

Wonwoo put his arm down and greeted you with a wide smile – the one where he his nostrils flared ever so slightly, his nose ridge crinkling, and because he claimed his eye muscles were attached to his nose muscles, eyes disappeared into crescents. 

Yeah – that killer one. 

“Hey,” you blinked at him, half your body hiding behind the door. You noticed how his attention wasn’t on you, but rather the space behind you. His eyes peered over your shoulder, searching the bed for another figure, only to see it empty with your covers tossed over the foot of the bed. 

Was your fuck buddy hiding?

“What are you looking at?” you asked him bluntly, though your voice was small. 

Wonwoo’s gaze returned back to your form, adjusting his glasses. 

“Nothing,” he quickly replied. You noticed how his eyes flickered to another part of your room. You felt your heart racing in your chest, wondering if he heard and was now looking for your partner in crime – you didn’t think you and Soonyoung were that loud. 

Wonwoo’s soft chortle interrupted your anxious musing. “That’s where that shirt went.”

“Huh?” 

Wonwoo pointed at your t-shirt, half of Kakashi’s head showing from behind the door. It appeared oversized on your form, the hem skimming over your mid-thigh. 

“Oh,” you acknowledged softly, pinching it by the shoulders, “Yeah – uh, laundry day. My pajamas are still in the washer. Sorry.”

Wonwoo you waved you off. “No, no – it’s fine. It . . . looks good on you – cute.”

“T-thanks?” you tilted your head in confusion. He’s never called you ‘cute’ before. 

The two of you stood there awkwardly, waiting for the other to speak. Silence had never been quite this loud. 

“D-did you need something?” you finally peeped. 

Wonwoo froze. 

Fuck – he didn’t plan this far out. What was he supposed to tell you? Hey, I heard you fucking and got off to your moans, and was just wondering if you were fucking Soonyoung because I heard a rumor?

Yeah, like the truth would fly. 

He faked a cough into his fist and cleared his throat heavily, a strained grin to follow. 

“I . . . uh, was gaming,” Wonwoo stuttered, pointing back towards his room, “And . . . m-my phone died.”

“You were playing games on your phone?” your brows knitted together. You knew Wonwoo played video games, but not on his phone – he was classier than that, opting for a fancier operating system. 

“N-no,” Wonwoo waved you off, “I just . . . forgot to charge it and found it dead when I was done.”

Your lips formed a small ‘o’, nodding at the final explanation. 

“Can I borrow your charger?” he scratched the back of his neck. “I lost mine.” (no he didn't - it was sitting where he always put it on his nightstand.)

“Sure,” you nodded once. You turned to walk back into the depths of your room. Wonwoo was about to take a step inside to follow in suit when you abruptly stopped in your stride just as your hand was slipping off the door handle. “Wait.”

Wonwoo let out a soft hum in confusion, his intestines twisting at your hesitancy. 

“It’s not in here,” you told him, "I left it in the living room." You pointed in the general direction of your charger. You quickly shooed him out and scurried after him. He peeked over his shoulder, noting the way his t-shirt was slipping up your thigh. If you bent over just right, he might –

What the fuck was wrong with him? 

You were his best friend for fucks sake – he shouldn’t be provoked by you like this. 

Wonwoo shook the thought from his head, you already pushing past him and walking down the hallway. He jogged after you, opting to stay in the entrance of the hallway, waiting for you while you searched. Even if he did want to see you slip ass, he couldn’t because your charger was behind the couch, the old damn ugly brown thing blocking his view. You were quick to run back and hand him the charger, your hands returning to behind your back after, as you peered up at him, wide and innocently, as if you weren’t just moaning like a porn star earlier. 

“Thanks,” Wonwoo lifted it up in his hand, the corner of his lips twitched up. 

“Course,” you returned his smile.

Wonwoo stared at you a while longer, admiring the way the moonlight slipping through the slits of the blinds highlighted your facial features. His eyes trailed down your neck to the strait of your collarbone, a faint purple mark blooming, peeking from underneath the collar of the t-shirt –

Wait what?

 “You should go to sleep,” you piped up. You reached up to rustle his hair, chuckling as Wonwoo swatted at your hand. The hickey disappeared under his t-shirt at your sudden movement. “It’s going to be a long day at the amusement park tomorrow – wouldn’t want you falling asleep on the roller coaster.”

Right. 

The amusement park. 

Your friends, mostly on Seungkwan’s insistence, were visiting the amusement park tomorrow. This also meant Soonyoung would be in attendance. For your sake, Wonwoo suppressed his annoyance at the thought. 

“Point taken,” Wonwoo nodded. Much to your surprise, he reached over to run his hand across your cheek, his hand lingering too long, opting to settle and cup your chin. “Good night, Y/N.”

With one final brush of his thumb, his eyes searched for something in yours, though you weren’t quite sure for what. Wonwoo gave you yet another small smile, the moonlight sending you a wink in the reflection of his glasses before stalking off to his bedroom. Even after he had shut the door, you were still standing there, your mind racing at the ghost of his touch, caressing your cheek and teasing your chin, etching itself into the long files of things that Jeon Wonwoo did that made your heart flutter. As best friends, physical affection was no stranger to the two of you, but this felt different. You loved Wonwoo because he was familiar and comfortable; but the light tease of your chin and the subtle curve of his pink lips sent electricity down your spine. 

“Hey,” another voice called out to you softly.

You looked up, your line of sight being met with Soonyoung’s bare chest. Why he hadn’t put on his shirt yet, you didn’t know. However, it was Soonyoung and his behaviors weren’t always to be questioned. It was simply a Soonyoung thing. 

It was now his turn to smile at you, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. A glint of desperation and melancholy swam in his irises. Soonyoung extended out a hand to you, silently begging you to take it. 

Much to his relief, you did. 

You gave his palm a gentle squeeze, your free hand coming up to stroke his tanned forearm. It was simultaneously comforting and reassuring, yet exciting as it set a tingling sensation up his arms, making his heart skip a beat at your touch. It was as if the magic of the night was never interrupted and your touch was reassuring him that despite the other man in the apartment, you were his for the evening. 

Quietly, Soonyoung closed the door to your bedroom, making a point to turn the lock, so Wonwoo couldn’t barge in. He was about to loosen his grip on your hand, letting you return to your bed to sleep while he slipped out, when your other hand trailed down, placing it over his. 

“Stay,” you whispered.

His eyes widened ten-fold, not believing his ears.

“W-what?” Soonyoung blubbered. 

“Sleep with me?” you re-phrased your request, “At least for a little bit and then you can go before Wonwoo wakes.”

The mention of the latter’s name chipped at his heart a little bit. Nonetheless, Soonyoung noted this was the first time you've asked him to stay over. 

“A-are you sure?” Soonyoung asked nervously. He was quite utterly confused at how just moments ago you were with Wonwoo, your self-proclaimed love of your life, suddenly asking to sleep with him again.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “Why wouldn’t I be?” you kneaded soft circles into the back of his hand. “Cuddling with you is . . . a nice thought.”

Soonyoung chortled at your suddenly shy demeanor. “On one condition.”

You hummed curiously. 

Soonyoung slipped his hand out of yours, moving them to smooth over your thighs, slipping underneath your shirt to hold your bare hips. He pulled your flush against him, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. 

“You can’t wear that shirt to sleep with me,” Soonyoung whispered. He was there hiding behind your door the whole time – he heard everything loud and clear. 

“You . . . want me to sleep naked?” you asked. 

“No,” he chuckled, shaking his head back and forth, his nose nudging cutely against yours. He placed a light peck on your nose. “Wear mine instead.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back, but this only made him want to pull you closer to him. “Why does it matter, Kwon Soonyoung?”

He shrugged, “If you cuddle me, you wear my clothes – not his.”

“Fine,” you agreed, knowing there was no use in arguing with him. 

Soonyoung placed a chaste kiss on your lips, before trailing his hands up higher – agonizingly slow. His touch was tantalizing and intoxicating, dream-like, if you will. You could fall asleep right there and then. You lifted your arms, allowing him to slip Wonwoo’s shirt off from the armpits. Soonyoung stripped you nude in one stroke, dropping the shirt on the floor without a care. He took a few steps back, allowing himself to drink in your naked form. Your hands flew up to cover your chest and core, heat coloring the tips of your ears. Clearly, it wasn’t the first time that Soonyoung had seen you vulnerable and bare, but you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under his studious gaze. 

“Baby,” Soonyoung cooed, a smirk gracing his face. He whipped off his white t-shirt slung around his shoulder and shook it out as he approached you. “There’s no need to be shy around me,” he continued, slipping his shirt over your head. As he helped you place your arms through the correct openings, he leaned down near your ear, quickly nipping at the lobe, whispering, “I’ve seen it all – and more. You’re beautiful.”

You refused to let him know how flattered you were at his comment, opting to purse your lips and remain silent instead. When the shirt was securely on, you took him by the hand again and led him to your bed, taking your place on the left and him on the right. Wherever you slept, this is how you always arranged yourselves – there was no reason for it, it was just how you worked. 

Turning your back to him, you tucked your hands in the space between your cheek and the pillow. Instantly, you felt Soonyoung’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling himself closer and closer to you, until your back was flushed against his chest. You let one hand slip out and intertwine with his, holding it close to the space between your breasts. His other hand brushed soothingly against your ribs. His breath tickling your baby hairs, Soonyoung gave you one last kiss on the crown of your head before tucking it underneath his chin. And as if you weren’t close enough already, he threw his leg over yours as a finishing touch. 

Sex was great, but it was the little moments like this that Soonyoung cherished most. Even if it was fleeting, he was happily yours, and you were happily his. In the depths of the night where everyone else was asleep (except maybe that cockblock, Wonwoo), his love for you was well and alive – even if you couldn’t quite see it yet. 

 . . . .

Since the day Jihoon introduced you to him, Soonyoung has been enamored by you.

You were funny without trying too hard. Your dry humor was hard for some to swallow, but it made jungle juice spurt out his nose (true story, bro). Some would say your eye makeup was heavy, but he thought it highlighted your features just right. Seungkwan always berated you for wearing such dark colors, but Soonyoung thought it complimented your complexion. Your image was dark and loud, but your personality was bright and quiet. 

You were an enigma and Kwon Soonyoung was hungry to know more. 

Unfortunately, he never could because of your best friend: Wonwoo. The man who you were attached to the hip with, even when he had another woman in his arms. It was clear from the beginning that Wonwoo didn’t like Soonyoung. Wonwoo didn’t seem to hate Soonyoung per se, but there was a clear dislike. Their personalities were on opposite ends of the spectrum: Soonyoung loud and extroverted, Wonwoo quiet and introverted. Whereas, Soonyoung preferred letting loose at crowded social events, Wonwoo opted for more personable and sizable spaces. Soonyoung chased after excitement, spontaneity, and passion, jumping from job to job, hoping to find the perfect fit, whereas Wonwoo liked stability, committing to one thing to the end, even if it drained his soul a little – he could always find happiness elsewhere. From the way Wonwoo always cut their conversations short, avoided spending time alone with Soonyoung at all cost, and watched him suspiciously from afar, that was enough for anyone to know that Wonwoo didn’t really like him. Being his best friend, those limitations extended to you by default – at least when Wonwoo was around. 

Hence, like he did before the two of you started your special arrangement, in public, Soonyoung always ended up admiring you from afar – he’d get the occasional hold of your hand when you passed by if he was lucky. Today at the amusement park, it was no exception. Dressed in your pleated black leather skirt that twirled prettily whenever you turned around, Soonyoung couldn’t help but keep his eyes off of you. Underneath your matching leather jacket, all you wore was a tight, strapless white cropped top that highlighted your boobs so well. Especially looking like you had just stepped out of a fashion magazine, of course, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy watching you all pressed up against Wonwoo during roller coaster rides and cutely playing with his hands while the two of you ate ice cream at the rusted metal bench when you got too tired to join the others. It made Soonyoung’s blood boil watching Wonwoo whisper sweet nothings in your ear, your musical laughter echoing across the park at his probably not funny jokes. The two of you acted like a couple when everyone knew you weren’t. 

It should be Soonyoung doing those things with you, not Wonwoo. 

“Quit staring before everyone else figures out what’s going on,” Jihoon scolded from beside him. Jihoon threw a haphazard glance in yours and Wonwoo’s direction in the gift shop. He scoffed at the way you threw your head back, laughing at Wonwoo trying on different cheaply made, but overpriced sunglasses. The latter seemed equally amused. 

Soonyoung let out a heavy sigh and tore his eyes away, pretending to busy himself with the stuffed animals on the wall. 

“I mean it, you know?” Jihoon muttered, his eyes flickered around to ensure there was no one around to hear him. Being Soonyoung’s roommate, Jihoon was well-aware of your arrangement with him, constantly being begged to leave their apartment empty so Soonyoung could fuck you into oblivion – rather too frequently recently. 

Soonyoung hummed in reply. 

“People are starting to ask questions,” Jihoon explained, “The other day, even Seungkwan asked if you were interested in Y/N – said you look at her funny with stupid googly eyes and shit.”

“And if I do?” Soonyoung challenged nervously. 

“Don’t,” Jihoon warned, knowing where this was going. 

Soonyoung glanced up, catching Jihoon’s hardened gaze. “Look – I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? Even if you are dicking her down every other night, she’s clearly head over heels for Jeon,” Jihoon pointed back at you and Wonwoo, then at Soonyoung, letting his finger sink into the into the dip in between his chest. “It’s only going to get messy if you fight for his spot in her life.”

Soonyoung looked down at his shoes. He knew Jihoon was right – it was just casual sex between friends after all and Wonwoo was irreplaceable. To wish for something more was ridiculous, but the thought of you being his exclusively had grown like weeds in a perfectly trimmed lawn: bothersome, waiting to be torn out, but reluctant to be removed by the preoccupied owner, its roots diving deeper into the ground day by day.

However, Soonyoung also knew, from personal experience, for any relationship to work, the feelings had to be mutual. 

You wanted Wonwoo, but did Wonwoo want you? 

. . . .

“I can’t believe you actually bought those,” you crossed your arms over your chest as you and Wonwoo tumbled out of the gift shop.

Wonwoo pushed up the sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. The outer tips winged out like those glasses grandmother's wore, the rim made of cheap red plastic. You weren't even sure the darkened lenses were UV ray proof with how much you could see through them. 

"I look great, I don't know what you're talking about," Wonwoo teased, cocking an eyebrow at you. His cool demeanor broke easily, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he tugged off the sunglasses.

You rolled your eyes at him. "A waste of twelve dollars if you ask me," you shook your head, changing the subject. "I'm going to the bathroom while the others are still inside," you started backing away.

Wonwoo nodded, waving you off, watching you walk towards the wooden stalls until your back turned to him. He glanced down at his sunglasses, lifting it up to his face and squinting through the lenses, scoffing and wondering why he did actually buy them. It's not like he'd wear them after the amusement park today. You were right, a total waste of his twelve dollars, but it was an impulsive purchase. The sight of you laughing at him was priceless and worth the loss. When the two of you were together, laughter was inevitable, but today it seemed even more special. Something inside of him was growing, blooming – it made him nervous, but it made him giddy and he liked it, hoping to keep the feeling alive a while longer. 

"Wonwoo?" someone called from afar. He looked up from his sunglasses thinking it was you –  a fast trip to the bathroom.

But it wasn't you.

"Wonwoo!" Dahyun giggled, waving him over. Wonwoo's hold on the sunglasses stuttered, the plastic nearly slipping out of his hand and cracking onto the pavement as he walked over. Quickly, he stuffed the trinket in his pants pocket, collecting his nerves. Dahyun was a close colleague from his office, but he wasn’t used to people seeing him out of his work persona. 

"H-hey Dahyun," he greeted the pretty blonde.

She bounced happily on the balls of her feet. "It is you!” she said as Wonwoo approached. “What are you doing here?"

"Just hanging out with friends," Wonwoo replied plainly. He caught sight of the two women behind her and a man behind her; he assumed they were her friends. "You?"

"Me too," she giggled girlishly. She pointed at her friends behind, “That’s my sister Chaeyoung and her fiance, Seokjin, and my friend, Nica.”

Wonwoo nodded, giving them all a wave which they happily returned. He failed to notice the hopeful glow in Dahyun’s eyes as she watched him. Her palms were sweaty as she gripped the canvas strap of her sporty crossbody that slung over her chest. Dahyun slowly inching closer and closer to Wonwoo as their conversation continued.

“What are those?” Dahyun gestured to the red plastic peeking out from his jean pocket. 

His eyes followed her finger. “Oh? Uh, these?” He fished them out to show her. 

Dahyun stifled a chuckle. “Very . . . fashionable, Wonwoo, never would’ve taken you to like that . . . style.” 

Wonwoo scratched the back of his head and chuckled half-heartedly, the red sunglasses suddenly not feeling very fun anymore. “Expect the unexpected, I guess?”

To any bystander, this was a scene straight out of a rom-com: a couple meeting for the first time in the beginning, one pining over the oblivious other, awkward, but inexplicably adorable. 

Unfortunately, despite all the people at the amusement park today, you had to be the witness of that rom-com-esque interaction. 

It was as if the dark asphalt had cemented around your Doc Martens, keeping you stuck in the pavement, unable to move. Your limbs suddenly felt heavy, your breathing becoming uneven as you watched Wonwoo talk animatedly with the pretty blonde in the baby pink tennis dress that, you might note, accentuated her assets rather well. His occasional deep chuckle was too loud in your ears, no longer seemingly pleasant and provocative as you once confessed to him, and the girl’s constantly bouncing on the toes of her feet made you dizzy. 

You knew it was stupid to feel this way: Wonwoo wasn’t yours and you weren’t his; you had no right to feel jealous, let alone, he was just talking to someone who happened to be very attractive – it really could be just that, nothing more, nothing less. However, knowing his history, Wonwoo wasn’t someone to stay on the market for long before someone else who wasn’t you always swept him away. Wonwoo had been a little tense since breaking up with Jiyoung last month, and for the first time in a while, you had seen him let loose and enjoy himself. Today had been good – fun, where you didn’t have to worry about offending him with your constant teasing, or about overstepping your boundaries with Wonwoo because he was with another girl. It felt like it once did in your early university days when you both were still single and carefree. Nothing like the time Wonwoo dated Jiyoung and you had to watch your every move. You fell into old patterns, resting your head on his shoulder, playing with his fingers out of boredom, and him wrapping his hands around your waist when he laughed too hard. You were a fool for letting yourself be hopeful and believe perhaps this day would be the day he’d finally see you more than just a best friend.

Soonyoung, having emerged from the gift shop just moments after your departure from the bathroom, saw it all. His eyes flickered from Wonwoo and the blonde, then you anxiously standing from afar. His heart sank, knowing what just was going through your mind and the fear and insecurity the scene playing before you was instilling. Though it made Soonyoung bitter and angry for Wonwoo to be so ignorant and blind to your pining, his heart ached more seeing you suddenly so defeated. Your hands clenched and unclenched, pulling at the sleeves of your leather jacket. Your footing stuttered two steps forward, then three steps back, your brows furrowing together and pressing your lips into a tight line as another thought crossed your mind. Ultimately, you decided to turn around, walking speedily in the opposite direction instead, your hair flying away from your face at the makeshift breeze. You were too far away to see, but Soonyoung could sense tears were coming. 

Without a second thought, all that Jihoon had warned him quickly forgotten, Soonyoung bolted in your direction. You were too preoccupied to notice him chasing after you. Within seconds, his body crashed into you, almost knocking you over. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, and buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent. You were wearing that lavender-scented lotion he liked so much – it made him dizzy. Lovesick. 

You had stopped in your tracks, refusing to turn around to see who it was, squeezing your eyes tight as you always did when you were with him.

You had wished it to be Wonwoo, but you knew better than to fool yourself. 

Soonyoung’s hands slithered down your front, stopping when they reached your groin, bunching up your skirt in his fists. A soft breeze passed through your legs, eliciting a shudder from you, warmth suddenly starting to pool at your core. Immediately your hands flew up, coming up to grasp his hands. You tried to pry them off, but he didn’t relent, his fists only seemingly tightening more. As if to help you relax, Soonyoung planted a feathery peck on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You shuddered as he let his lips linger, gently brushing them back and forth along your smooth skin.

“Hey,” Soonyoung greeted you softly. 

“Soonyoung,” you said, your voice clearly strained, “Not here.”

Soonyoung wanted to comfort you, ask you if you were alright and reassure you that you were unmatched compared to any girl that has ever strutted Wonwoo’s way. He wanted to tell you, you were beautiful and deserved to be loved by someone who saw you. 

However, that wasn’t how you and Soonyoung worked. Those words were quick to die on his tongue, nervous that they would make you run away from him too. Not knowing what else to say or do, Soonyoung opted for doing what he knew best.

“Let’s get out of here then?” he whispered in a low, enticing voice. 

Diary - Vernon (A)

Genre: Angst

Warnings : suicide , self harm , bullying

Choi y/n that’s a girl who always walks around with a diary in her hands , when you hear diary it’s not the gushy cute stuff where the diary is about boys makeup girls no her diary is very special , it holds secrets that nobody knows . Let’s go threw a few notes

Day one 1

Dear diary

Wow this feels kinda weird writing in this erm uh hi I’m Choi y/n and this is day 1 of my diary

Erm today of all days was quiet which is unusual I also got to hang out with my amazing best friend Vernon.

But all he did was talk about his ‘amazing’ girlfriend which is not so amazing she’s actually really toxic and not a nice person.

School was alright no one disturbed me

But home ,home was different it was to noisy

My parents are always shouting and arguing with each other but when their not arguing they are hitting me and abusing me

You are probably thinking why don’t you stick up for yourself, we’ll I’ve tried but it resulted in me getting the worse beating of my life.

As you can see y/n isn’t living the bestest life lets skip to day 25

Today was the worse of all days vernon Ignored me and kept on glaring at me

I don’t know what I’ve done to receive this treatment, I feel so alone and depressed lately.

Looks like y/n has been going through and even tougher time today

Let’s see what she’s been up to

Y/n pov:

I just finished writing in my diary I feel so lonely vernon doesn’t want to speak to me anymore and he’s seems mad at me.

Maybe I can try and catch him tomorrow to ask what the problem is.

~time skip to tomorrow ~

It is 7am now I got dressed and ready to go to school as I am making my way through the gate I see vernon walking in

“Vernon vernon !!”

But he just started walking faster

“Please vernon can we talk?” I asked out of breathe

“What do you want to talk about freak” he said angrily

“Freak?” I said lowly “erm why have you been ignoring me ?” I said softly while looking at my shoes

“ OH don’t pretend like you don’t know what you have done I know you pushed Hannah ( his gf)and called her a whore” vernon said harshly

“What I never said any of tha-” I said but was cut off

“Stop pretending to be innocent Hannah told me everything y/n” vernon said

“Please vernon you have to believe me” I said almost on the verge of crying

“Save it y/n you betrayed me” Vernon said in an angry tone and left.

I fell down to my knees crying Hannah lied and … vernon believed her

Third person pov:

Y/n walked through the school door with fear

Everyone turned to look at her

Some turned in disgust, some turned to see whom it was, some turned to whisper to their friends about her, some just outright just glared at her

“Wow Hannah must have lied to everyone” y/n thought

She sighed holding the tears that desperately wanted to fall, she made her way to her locker as she heard the insults they were saying about her

Weirdo , nerd , freak , fake , and so on it continued

But one sentence crushed her heart so bad

“Ugh she should just end it to be totally honest. It’s not like she’s needed anyways she’s just a pain in the ass tbh” take a guess who said that yep Hannah and guess who was beside her laughing and agreeing with her while she said vernon

That crushed y/n even more, the thought that everyone would be better off without her has crossed her mind so many times.

Skip to a few weeks later:

The bullying got harsher and harsher y/n became even more depressed, harsher words where thrown at her

Y/n continued to write in her diary everyday.

But today something was different, today it would all stop, while insulted were being thrown at her she didn’t cry of flinch she simply nodded her head taking it all in

She didn’t cry when her parents hurt her she simply nodded her head

Her diary didn’t have day 90 written in it no it had

The End written

Dear the end

The time has finally come no more tears no more insults and no more people, you know I dead a long time ago, only difference now is that they’ll notice.

Thank you for being with me till the very end, The end has finally come.

Truth is I never did any of those things she said I’ve done but nobody believed me.

To everyone who bullied me, thank you

That’s all I have for you guys thank you

And to the people who brought me into this world, I am sorry for whatever pain I have caused you but now there won’t be a need to remind me how useless I am because I am going I’m sorry and thank you.

Good bye everyone.

Y/n closes her diary after finishing writing she looks at the bottle of pills next to her and takes a handful of them and swallows every single one of them taking a big gulp of water,

She starts to feel dizzy but she just invites the feeling in as her world turns black Choi y/n is finally gone.

Hypewoman- Hoshi

Pairing : kwon soonyoung x fem oc

Genre : Fluff

Warnings : none

This is a very short nothing special just wanted to get this out of mind heheh 🤭

You and soonyoung were watching the music video to cheers by the leaders and it was your first time watching it as soonyoung wanted to see your raw reaction to it

“ yah be prepared to be blown away” he said while putting the music video on

During watching it you were bopping to the song really liking it but you went mental at soonyoungs break dance part

“No f&€king way you did that” you say shook and mesmerised “ I just know what the most replayed part is going to be 😏🤭” and for the rest of the night that one part in the video played again and again in your head

Day off - DK

Pairings - DK x fem oc

Genre - Fluff

Warnings - a lot of fluff

Today was one of seokmin’s rare day offs. He hardly had any due to promotions coming up and long hard hours of practice but his company decided that they should have a day off today.

Most of the day has been spent by you and seokmin taking a nap as you’se were tired . You were tired from work and he was tired from practice last night. After the nap use had a evening snack and decided to catch up on the Series’s you’se both started together. You were ahead of him on the series. “ you know babe you missed out on a lot of what happened” you said to seokmin who was putting the show on “ I know schedules kept me so busy but don’t spoil anything for me” he says lying down.

“ I’ll go make us some popcorn real quick I’ll be right back” you said half way out the door making your way to the kitchen “ what to choose what to choose butter or salty” you say “ Mhh salty” you pop the wrapper in the bin and put the popcorn bag into the microwave.

After a few minutes you take the popcorn and put it in a bowl you hear seokmin shouting from your room telling you to hurry up. You walk back to your bedroom where you see seokmin’s literally itching to unpause the show. “ I’m here I’m here jeez” . The rest of the day was filled with cuddling and finishing off the series.

𓇢𓆸 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

"someday when you leave me / i bet these memories follow you around"

💌 summary: once a dream relationship with the love of your life, now doomed to fail because of the media, you can only hope that minghao will think of you again -- even if it's in your wildest dreams.

💌 pairing: idol!minghao x non-celebrity!reader (angst, i almost cried planning this oneshot)

💌 genre(s): angst 😭

💌 word count: 3.25k words

even if you're not meant to be, you don't always have to end things on a bad note. inspired by taylor swift's 'wildest dreams', bolded and italicised words signify the lyrics.

"He said let's get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds..."

You sing the lyrics softly, looking out of the car window.

"Ironic," Your boyfriend chuckles from next to you, eyes trained ahead as he drives on the never-ending road, winding into evermore. "Exactly what we're doing now."

You let out a laugh, leaning your head on the window as he raises your interlinked hands to press a kiss on the back of your hand. "That we are, dear."

The sunset winds into the distance and shines, just the way you like it, and you pull out your camera, letting go of Minghao's hand to snap photos, much to his dismay.

"Hey," He nudges you after you're done admiring the way the oranges and yellows twist and intertwine in all the right places, and holds his hand out again. "Hold."

You pat his cheek affectionately and take his hand.

Thirty minutes later, the same man offers you his arm to hoist you up onto the roof of the van, where he insisted was the most beautiful place on earth.

You lay your head on his shoulder and sigh in content.

The sunset could shine all it wanted, and be the largest and prettiest thing in the sky, but nothing would beat the man who was currently nestled into your side, arms snug around you and smiling with the awe and love of a lifetime.

The photo you take of you two is now framed in your shared house, and your phone next to the photo frame buzzes and lights up.

"Happy two years dear, I love you to the moon and back. Sorry I had to go back to the city, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Nothing lasts forever... but this is gonna take me down..."

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, Hao, don't be sorry," you cajole. "We'll be okay. What did the company say?"

"They'll be releasing a statement." Minghao sounds half-frustrated, half sad as he paces around, you can hear his footsteps scuffing the floor. "They're trying to do damage control, but the media is already eating it up. People are spreading the photos and I just-- I'm sorry you have to go through this. I know we wanted to keep us private."

"It was going to come out at some point," You sigh. "We both knew that."

"But it shouldn't have happened this way." Minghao counters.

"I know," You murmur, "But don't think too much and worry. We'll be fine. I love you, and I'll see you tonight, okay?"

With the promise of seeing him and spending the night together, you hang up.

Two years is a lot, you tell yourself. He'll stick by you and you'll have the ending you always dreamed of with him.

But along with the consolation came a sense of dread. Were you convincing him or yourself?

"I can see the end, as it begins, my one..condition..is…"

"Minghao?" Your voice is meek, so scared, soft and vulnerable.

Minghao hates the way the happiness in your voice has disappeared.

"Darling?"

"Th-there's reporters shouting outside," You say, clutching the phone tight as if you could gain comfort from it. "Lots of them with cameras. They... I think you might have been followed home last night. They probably waited for you to leave."

"Shit," he curses. "Wait for me, I'll be right there."

"No!" Your voice cuts through. "You can't. Y-you'll be ambushed. I know how scary the paparazzi can get. I just--"

"Baby," He says, tears welling up in his eyes, because you’re right. He would be torn to shreds. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, a million times over. You don't deserve any of this, I-"

"No more of that," You whisper, and he goes quiet. "I love you. All I need is you. If this is what we must go through for me to be with you... so be it."

"I love you," he chokes out through a haze of tears and anguish. "I love you so, so, much, you have no idea."

"I love you too, Hao," You reply, and say that you'll hide out for a while so they'll leave before hanging up.

Minghao slumps down and cries like he's never cried before.

"I said, "No one has to know what we do", his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room...And his voice is a familiar sound..."

"Baby!" He races to you, sitting in the living room, still slightly shaken. He engulfs you in a hug. "I'm so sorry, I'll be sorry for the rest of my life..."

"It wasn't your fault," You reply softly, pulling back to cup his face, drawn and blotchy with tears. "Love you lots."

He wipes at your eyes, slightly swollen with your tears, ears still ringing with the shouts and camera clicks, eyes still seeing stars with the flashes as you stepped out to threaten calling the police.

"I love you," He weeps, clutching at the material of your clothes. "Why can't I just love you without other people getting involved?"

And you don't have an answer to that, so you just pull him in and press your mouth to his. It's salty with his tears, and he's shaking, but he hugs you tight, grip firm and unwavering.

He whispers promises into your skin, swears to every higher being that he'll keep you safe, promises that he'll love you for the rest of his life, and no one could keep him away from you, you both were too strong together for that. He tells you things will get better, they have to.

You believe him as you come undone, the tears staining the sheets beneath you.

"And when we've had our very last kiss...my last request...is.."

From that day on, everything changes, as much as you both vow to prevent it from happening.

Kisses are still shared, and movies are watched. His arms wind around you as you go to sleep, but those events are few and far between as he shuttles between you and the city, fulfilling his career.

When he comes home, he's either too tired to do anything, and you're not exactly inclined to ruin the one moment of peace he finally has for him.

What used to be a sanctuary of love and laughter and life, is now just an empty shell. Two people cohabiting in a desperate attempt to keep the flame kindled, huddling together for warmth.

You can feel it, and you know he can, too.

Things haven't gotten easier like he claimed. Your love hasn't dwindled one bit, but the media has only gotten more ferocious, even now hounding your workplace and regular haunts. You're practically confined within the walls of your home, either alone or with Minghao.

No more sunset dates. No more shared giggles under a blanket fort, no more pillow fights as he tackles you. No more late-afternoon cuddles as thin sunlight slants into the room. No more midnight instant noodle sessions. No more of anything. Silence overtakes, and the days drag by.

You know it's bubbling, the frustration, the anger at the media and at the world for being absolute busybodies, at Minghao (you don't know why), and at yourself.

And it's only a matter of time before it boils over.

You explode in the worst way possible.

It starts when Minghao comes home, looking even more tired than usual. You don’t even look up to greet him anymore as he trudges into the room, simply humming in acknowledgement. The spark in your eyes long gone, your smile feigned.

Perhaps those were the tell-tale signs of a relationship long gone. The spark wasn’t there. None of the previous joy you felt when he came home was there.

Were you falling out of love with him? ..No, that couldn’t be it. You knew you loved him for years, ever since you set eyes on him at an art museum, and you would always love him. Now, you just felt nothing but sadness when you saw him. If it wasn’t love, you would have only felt indifference.

None of you spoke about the reporters. It was like they didn't exist, only you knew it was the opposite, with them clamouring outside, with no reprieve. It was to the point where you had to lock every door and window for fear they would break in. Yet, both of you avoided the topic like a taboo, while it loomed over your bond like a dark cloud.

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t that you wanted this relationship to end, it was more like… you just knew it would.

What you had with Minghao would not end well. It would only end.

“Hey,” He speaks for the first time since coming home. “How was your day?”

“Nothing much,” You reply, and the kitchen goes silent.

He knew your day was nothing much. He knew why it was nothing much too. You couldn’t even go out without being mobbed by shouting reporters and blinding cameras. How well could your day have went?

“Dinner?” You ask, and he shrugs. “Sure.”

It was sad, really, you note, how quickly a conversation could end. So pitiful that a couple of over two years, who always never had enough to say to each other, had nothing to say now.

You finish dinner in silence, only the clinking of cutlery to fill in the vacancy of your voices.

After dinner he walks to the living room and you to your phone. You open up the three messages that have appeared to view them, but let out a shriek and throw your phone on the couch next to Minghao.

He raises his eyebrows at you in confusion and picks your phone up when you look back at him, eyes wide in panic.

His eyes widen the same way when he sees the graphic content of the message, the threat of the malicious sender reverberating through his mind.

“This— you…” He trails off.

“Is-is that a knife?!” You yelp. “This person just sent me a photo of a knife and threatened to kill me!”

“Baby, wait—” Minghao gets up and reaches for you, but you shrink back. “D-don’t.”

His jaw tightens as he registers the fact that you’re afraid of him. That a devil hiding behind a screen was enough to scare you away from him, the person who loved you to the ends of the earth.

“Okay.” He steps back. “Please…don’t be scared of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Not you,” was your only whisper.

He furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“Not you,” You speak up, slightly louder than before. “Just… the fact that the rumour is out, the media at our door… we no longer have anything to say to each other… it hurts me beyond what you know.”

“I’m trying, love,” Minghao says, quietly.

“I know you are,” You reply. “Like I said, it’s not your fault.”

“But you’re hurt,” Minghao protests. “I’m hurt too, you know? I can’t even bring you out, let you live a normal life and be with you as I want. It’s not fair to me, either.”

“Nothing was fair from the moment the articles broke,” You reply softly, tears coming to your eyes. “That what we have is seen like…a mistake. A sin. That you, just loving someone, is the greatest wrongdoing. That reporters found the need to stay at our door just for pictures of us. That someone found the need to threaten to kill me.”

“That’s not fair,” Minghao protests again, tears welling up too. “You’re not the only one suffering here. I am too! My career, my relationship, all of that shoved into the limelight. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I don’t,” You answer. “I know I will never fully understand your situation. All I’m asking is…can’t we just—”

“Pretend nothing happened? Go on with this?” Minghao’s voice cracks. “You don’t want that. You do not. We can’t.”

“Why not?” You ask.

“Because nothing will ever be the same! Nothing we do can let us go back to before. You are hurt and stuck here, I am done for, we are now shackled here—”

“Shackled?” You ask quietly. “Is this what it is?”

“No, I—”

“I think I’ve known for a while,” You say. “That it’s not ‘if’ we will end, it’s when we will.”

“W-What?”

“There isn’t anything there anymore, Hao,” You throw your hands up. “Hell, we don’t even have anything to say to each other!”

“What can I say?! That my career is half ruined, my relationship dying away, my fans threatening to end us both?!”

You turn away, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “You should go, Minghao. I...I don’t want to keep you here if you don’t want to be. I'm so sorry...”

"Why won't you fight for us?" His voice is a deathly whisper.

"What?"

"Why... I know it's hard but... why-why are you giving up?"

"Giving up...?"

"You gave up on us." He breaks into a sob. "We don't talk because every time I look at you, I can't help but keep thinking about how much better your life could have been. You could go on sunset drives whenever you want. You could have spent night after night in blanket forts without a care in the damn world, without worrying that one day someone's going to break the door down and do something to you. You-"

"Thinking like that was always meaningless without you, Hao," You let out a humourless laugh. "All I wanted to do those things with was you."

"We can still do it all," He says, striding towards you. "I told you. I won't leave you."

"But you have to." You murmur back. "I've seen the reports. You're one of the highest-rising stars now. You're worlds away from where I am. And just being me, being bombarded with attention like this, attention I don't want, day in and day out, it... it suffocates me."

"So that's it?" He asks dejectedly. "You don't want me anymore?"

"I do want you, it's all I want," You try to gesture, try to tell him what you mean, but he shakes his head.

"You used to say that with so much life. Now... it's like a stranger telling me that." You look at him, eyes pleading, tears spilling over.

He takes a step back, eyes scanning you like it's the last time he'll see you. "I'm so, so sorry I put you through this. I-I'll go. I'll go now."

He comes forward and cups your face. He leans in, and kisses your forehead. The delicate action and gentleness of it all, combined with the salty tang of his tears, makes you tear up again.

“Say you remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe…”

You register the front door closing behind him. He’s gone, and God knows if he’ll ever return.

That night, you turn off the lights, make sure the windows are closed, but you leave the wooden door unlocked. You never locked it when he hadn’t come back.

You tuck yourself in, the way you like it, the way Minghao does it, and fall into a fitful sleep, the last words you uttered to each other ringing in your head.

When you wake up the next morning, Minghao hasn’t come back.

Something just tells you he won’t return this time.

“Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you’ll see me again…” The tinny sound from the aged record player plays, prompting you to hum along to the tune.

“XU MINGHAO, singer, makes record-breaking return to the stage, set to perform...”

“Three years on — where is XU MINGHAO’s mysterious ex-partner now?”

“Woman spotted outside his apartment — liar or lover?”

You close the papers.

You smile. He’s on top of the world, just like he dreamed.

And you… you were just here. Alone, but moderately content, and at peace.

The media had left you alone from the third week that Minghao didn’t return. They probably deemed you less newsworthy, you muse, as you pour yourself another cup of coffee.

You sip coffee as you sift through your mail. You pick up an envelope, and smile at your friend’s invitation to an awards ceremony. Knowing that you were a fan of one of the performing ballad singers, she, as part of the management team, had taken it upon herself to secure you a ticket.

You get up and stretch. It was time to go to the city.

"And now, winning the most prestigious award of the night, the Artist of the Year..." The announcer smiles, stage makeup bold and sparkling against the lights. She steals a look at the card in her hand, takes a deep breath.

"Xu Minghao!"

Your hand flies to your mouth as the big screen shows his face, smiling as he waves, bows, and walks to the stage. You don't look out of place, as just about every fangirl is doing the same. Tears come to your eyes and you blink them away.

He's just as dashing as ever. Decked in a smart suit and jacket to match, with small, sleek hoops in his ears, and lips curved in a charming smile, he accepts the award and addresses the crowd.

"I...I'm beyond honoured to stand here today," His eyes dart about, trying to capture every pair of eyes from his vision. "You know I owe just about everything to my fans, new and old, my family, and my friends who've been with me through everything."

He visibly swallows. "And there's one more person, one really, really special person I want to thank."

He stretches out his hand and smiles as if beckoning to someone, and a beautiful lady hesitantly steps up, dressed in a gorgeous champagne-coloured gown, soft curls in her hair, a bounce in her step.

"She saw me through the darkest period of my life," He says, clutching onto the lady's hand like a lifeline. "From strangers to friends, from friends to lovers, I want her to know she's my day one."

The cameras and fans go wild, everyone clamouring to get a better glimpse as the woman smiles at him, full of adoration like he once used to look at you, and they share an embrace on the stage, the host cutting in to sing praises of the newly hard-launched couple.

Meanwhile, you sit, rooted to your place, as you watch them. But it isn't overwhelming sadness that engulfs you. It isn't any form of bitterness or resentment. The sweet tang of pride, that he can now freely love, and gratitude, that his new love was doing what you failed to, rests on your tongue.

You rise to your feet. As you're in a row closer to the front, it isn't hard to get out. As you walk towards the exit, you glance back one last time, only to have shock rain down on you as he locks eyes with you from the stage.

The shock dies away swiftly, only to be replaced by soft joy. You smile slightly and nod at him once, with nothing but sincerity in your eyes, and watch the relief sag on his shoulders as he smiles and nods back. Even with no words shared, he knows you've both found your ending.

"Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah, huh..."

writer's note: first ever oneshot and this was...sad? but also i wrote this in one day and almost decided not to publish it because it was so rough lol

but please enjoy! any feedback and interactions are welcome :> thank you for reading!!

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

01. cash (lack thereof)

🌼 warnings: none

🌼word count: ~1.9k

The words in the letter surprise you. In some ways, it gives you mixed feelings.

Happy, of course, that you’d gotten the job, signed the contract and you could move on from the clinic you’d dedicated over six years to after getting your degree to a larger hospital. It meant a change of pace, change in the people around you, and a step upward in your career.

Sad, that you couldn’t start immediately.

The letter announced the start of your contract to be in three months. But you were already packed up from your previous clinic and ready to move out.

Sitting back on your couch, you scan the letter again. “Commencement of the job will be three months from the date on the letter. Please contact us in the case of any confusion.” You sigh and toss the letter aside, leaning your head back.

Three months. Three months to do anything you wanted. Go on a long-needed vacation, binge-watch all the seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, buy a whole supermarket’s worth of ice cream.. the possibilities were endless.

As you were in your reverie of much-anticipated relaxation, your phone rings.

You pick up, and your uncle’s voice rings out in a cheerful baritone, loud and joyful.

“Y/N!”

“Hi, Uncle.”

“Oh, I haven’t heard from you in a while, dear. How’s everything?”

“Good,” you say, a little awkwardly. “I got a new job.”

“Goodness! How wonderful.” Your uncle seems positively delighted. You clear your throat, and ask quietly, “Why'd you call? Is everything okay?”

“Definitely! We were just calling to ask if you were going back to the countryside this year.” Your uncle says. You freeze slightly. “I know it’s hard with how busy you are. But it’s good to have a break before you continue running off everywhere, you know?”

“But you aren’t living in the countryside anymore, Uncle,” you remind him. “I don’t have anyone to visit.”

“I know,” your uncle says, sighing. “Part of me wishes we stayed, but… oh well. That’s life. You have to move on from something.”

You stay quiet.

“But enough about us! Maybe try to go back at least once.” Your uncle says again. “Eat well, have a good rest… some sea air would be great for you. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will, Uncle. You too. Send my love to Aunt.”

With a cheery farewell, the call ends. You take a deep breath and try to recall the last time you went home to the countryside for a short visit three years ago.

Your aunt’s fragrant chicken soup. Your uncle’s over-interest in your knowledge about a shoe brand he liked. Your cousin’s feeble attempts to get freebies from when you did a checkup on the child of the owner of a popular makeup brand. Laughter, togetherness, the feeling of finally having someone to come home to.

But there would be no internet, no socialising. No fine dining, no external staff for the cleaning and dirty work you didn’t like. No polished floors, air conditioning wherever you went.

It was a win-lose.

Yet the feeling of not going back irked you, an emotion you couldn't place.

Five minutes. Ten minutes as you considered your situation.

Three months to do whatever you liked.

After a power struggle with your mind, you sat up, inhaling deeply and then letting it go. A day trip. You could spare a day trip visiting your old home, before you came back to reality, where you should be, instead of reminiscing on memories long past.

You were going home, and Brooklyn Nine-Nine would have to wait.

You hate it here.

Your heels dig into the rough gravel as you step out of your car. A bad choice to wear Louboutins, you surmise, as you reach into the backseat for your bag.

You had decided to go to the beach, before maybe grabbing a bite at a cafe, taking some pictures in a weak attempt to relive your childhood memories, before the one-hour-fifteen-minute drive home. It wasn't as if you were here to visit anyone, you reasoned to yourself as you picked your way through the old country road you remembered all too well -- there was absolutely no need to stay any longer than you had to.

Besides, after the abrupt death of your parents in a car accident midway through your diploma, you had sworn to leave the moment you could, the memories of two people who would never return sitting heavily on you.

And that was what you had done, a mere two months after receiving a full university scholarship. You had left and never looked back since.

Nostalgia rushes through you as you find a less sandy and hot spot and sit down, careful not to get any sand into your precious heels. The beach is mostly empty, save for a few people swimming, surfing, or having a family day out. Your gaze goes out to sea, hugging your legs to yourself.

You silently hype yourself up. No more sad memories. You didn't have time for that. You would take this chance to wallow for a bit, and then you would look forward. Better things were coming for you.

A full thirty minutes pass before you feel yourself about to combust. You get up, wincing at the roughness of the sand on your hands. As a kid, you loved the beach. But it was different now. You were a grown-up, and grown-ups don't soak in self-pity. Or sand.

You struggle back on to solid land, deciding to get a quick coffee at a small cafe before leaving. As you approach a store with the large sign reading 'Hwang's Coffee Corner', you reach for the aged, wooden door and pull it open.

The cafe smells not of coffee, but of a soft, vanilla-like aroma from a scented candle nearby. A middle-aged woman sitting at the counter humming to trot music looks up. Your instincts, long honed by long rides on lifts and shopping trips, force an up-down look at her as she stands to welcome you. Thick, curly, and unstyled hair held back with a purple headband, too-pink lipstick, an old blue dress, worn-out sandals.

You force yourself to ignore the judgmental comment at the tip of your tongue and grit out a barely-there hello. The woman smiles, big and unrestricted, introduces herself as Ms Hwang, the owner, and asks for your order.

"Just a latte, please."

"Got that!" Ms Hwang chirps, and you cringe at how loud her voice is, ringing in the silence of the cafe.

You fish in your bag for your wallet, deciding to just get a takeaway cup instead, and you pull out your credit card.

Ms Hwang shakes her head, "We only take cash."

Your face burns as you look back up at the woman. "Um..sorry. I don't have cash on me."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

"I only have credit cards."

"Oh. Well, it won't be of much use. The card machine hasn't been working for a while anyway, we only take cash." Ms Hwang's tone is slightly dismissive, as she taps away on the cashier screen.

Your face drops. What place doesn't take credit cards now?

Turns out the question was said out loud and not in your head. Ms Hwang looks up, eyes slightly wide at the intrusive question.

"What are you trying to say?" Her voice isn't that of the friendly lady-next-door anymore and has a sharpness to it. You sigh in mild irritation and reply. "Forget it. I'll try to get cash first."

"No, you won't! Explain what you meant. Are you trying to say this store is outdated?" The woman seems to be getting agitated, and you really don't want to have a conflict in the middle of this god-forsaken town right now.

"No, I-"

"Oh, Wonwoo!" The angry owner suddenly exclaims to someone who just entered the cafe, the bell above the door announcing their arrival. "Help me over here! This lady thinks the cafe is outdated just because she doesn't have cash and can't pay!"

You roll your eyes and turn around, ready to defend your case to the next person who is clearly going to take her side after her accusation.

Everything you were going to say flies right out of the window when you see him.

Clean-cut, damp, dark brown hair, strong and defined eyebrows that are currently raised at the unfolding situation, and deep-set eyes. Dressed in a simple flannel outerwear with a T-shirt and jeans, glasses perched on his sharp nose bridge, he looks every bit like a local heartthrob. You subconsciously recall your outfit.

But this heartthrob is currently striding in behind the counter, next to Ms Hwang, and raising his eyebrows at you in mild disapproval.

"You really shouldn't have said that." His voice is deep and rich. You snap yourself back to the present moment, and begin to protest hotly. "I said nothing of the sort! I only hold cards in my wallet, and she said that cards wouldn't work since the machine was broken. And that's strange, isn't it? Every place takes cards now-"

"Strange?" The man- Wonwoo, you remember, interrupts, head tilting in curiousity as he surveys you. "Strange how?"

You huff impatiently. Seriously, does no one here know the wonders of credit card transactions?

"Go to any shop in the city. I'll bet you anything they take cards-"

"This isn't the city, miss," he shrugs. "Most stores here usually take cash. And you should probably be carrying cash around with you anyway."

You sigh, massaging your temples. "Look, this is getting more complicated than it has to be, alright? I'll get some cash first, and-"

"How do I know you're not a swindler?" Ms Hwang cuts in, narrowing her eyebrows.

You sigh. She's not easy, that much you've figured out. You didn't even get the coffee, and she's already making a big fuss.

"I can leave my bag with you while I'm at it." You shrug the handbag off your shoulder, wincing internally when your beloved Marc Jacobs lands on the aged wooden counter. Ms Hwang immediately descends upon it, glaring at you.

"All this for a coffee?" Wonwoo asks, bemused, as he runs his hands through his hair.

"I'm proving that I'm not a con job, mister." You glare at him. "I don't even need the coffee, forget it!"

He shrugs, half-amused by your outburst. "Okay then, Miss Not-Con-Job. Hope you get the cash."

The waves are large today, Wonwoo muses as he hoists his surfing board out to the water and mounts it, careful to tuck his glasses away. Before long, he's soaring and cruising, sea air hitting his face in a cooling spray.

Humming to himself, he gets to his feet easily on the board, and sways with the water's direction.

This is life, he sighs out in relief. As his gaze crosses the beach he loves so dearly, of the laughing children and fond parents, he catches sight of a woman. Sitting all alone, hugging her legs to herself as she gazes out at the very sea he's cruising through.

No one should look sad in a place as beautiful as this, he thinks. And while his view keeps on wandering across the villagers' familiar faces, across the infinite span of the sea, he finds that his eyes, too, keep going back to her.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

🌼 summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼 pairing: wonwoo x reader fic (written, fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired)

🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart

ch.01: cash (lack thereof)

masterlist. next.

writer's note: ookayy... i'm nervous 😭 it's my first written series sooo any feedback is welcomed!! thank you for reading 😙

𝐦é𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 •°. *࿐

🎻 feat: violinist!jun x violinist!reader, victorian era, enemies to lovers (kind of)

🎻 warnings: mentions of physical abuse (not explicit), mentions of cheating (but no one cheated)!!! not the best e2l i'm very sorry

🎻word count: ~11k

🎻 summary: in an era of music and dance, of dukes and arranged marriages, there is only one man whom you fight tooth and nail to play at the same tempo as -- legendary violinist wen junhui. people fall over themselves to dance to a song he plays, and festivities from all over the land request the pleasure of his attendance.

portraits are painted, praises sung of him, but you've only ever known him as your stiffest competition, in a society where outstanding women are frowned upon, reduced to mere puppets in the shadow of men. yet, amid domineering voices and too-loud presences, you have no option but to understand that he was the melody that played his way into your heart.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1870, November 11th

"Your Grace," You reach for the Duchess' outstretched hand as you exit the carriage, your other hand lifting your gown, the horses skittering as they reach a complete stop.

"My dear Y/N! It has been too long since you have graced our court," The Duchess seems pleased to meet you as she clutches your hand tightly, you squeezing it in return.

"It has been long," You agree. "It is an honour to play for the annual ball once more."

"Nonsense!" She trills a laugh, her hand coming up to cover herself. "Truly, it is our greatest blessing to be able to hear your music."

You smile in gratitude as she leads you towards the palace. "Thank you, Your Grace. I'm looking forward to performing for you as well."

"I'll have someone send up your bags to your rooms," She adds, continuing to walk you in. "The estate is busy today, what with the company we're having... and the two greatest violinists of our time!"

Your smile freezes on your face. It can't be, it's not possible--

"Of course, we're not expecting Sir Wen Junhui just yet, but I like the staff to be well-prepared-"

Wen Junhui. Of course, it had to be him.

"My dear? Are you alright?" The Duchess asks you, concern on her face. "I didn't have you just now."

"My apologies, Your Grace," You immediately say, a smile plastered on your face. "I...I must have been tired. Carriage journeys have never really been my preference."

"Of course, how could I forget!" The duchess sighs, before turning to the servants trailing behind. "Ensure Miss Y/N has everything she needs. She must be in tip-top condition for the ball." At the servants' bow, she turns back to you. "I must return to the preparations," she tells you. "Will you be alright heading to your rooms by yourself? The servants will lead you."

"Of course, Your Grace," You curtsy. "You really didn't have to lead me in, it was too much trouble. Please, I wish not to disturb you further."

Again, her tinkling laugh. "What words! You could never be a trouble to me, my dear friend."

You bid your farewell and as she leaves, the servants motioning to lead you to your chambers.

You shake your head lightly as you resume the walk. Wen Junhui, in the same place as you. What luck.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"You two surely have met, given your professions," The Duke tells you as he beckons to a tall man you know all too well. "It is my understanding that you both played for His Majesty's coronation the previous year."

"Indeed we did," His velvet-like voice, thinly masking his hostility, returns. "It was charming to be in her company."

"As if." Your mutter, thankfully, goes unheard by the Duke. Junhui, however, picks up on it, what with those sensitive ears of his that supposedly make him an oh-so-amazing violinist, and raises his eyebrows at you.

The Duke excuses himself soon after to find his wife, which leaves you and Junhui standing alone. His waistcoat, laced with what you recognise to be one of the finest silks in the market, rustles with his movement as he turns and faces you properly.

He bows to you in mock politeness. "My pleasure to be in your delightful company once more, Miss L/N."

You roll your eyes. "Skip the formality, for our sakes."

Amusement laces his cat-like features. "If you say so, treasure." The term of endearment stirs more irritation in you.

The hostility between you two dated back to your teens. Fresh out in the world and eager for opportunity, you tried to become the court violinist in the royal orchestra, to prove yourself not just as a talent but as a woman, only to be turned away with the memo that a violinist had already been chosen, the only one the court was looking for, and it had been Junhui, all lanky limbs but with the fervour of a highly determined seventeen-year-old.

And at the birthday celebration of a royal you didn't remember, for which your family watched from the gates, you heard him play for the very first time. The symphony the orchestra had played, the seamless chords and semiquavers that had flowed from his relentless fingers on the strings, and the firm press of the glowing horsehair of his bow had impressed every person in the audience. Except for you.

No, you were bitter, so, so, bitter, that the one chance you had strived for your whole life had been taken from right through your fingers.

From then on, you had been known, amongst many in your small town, not very kindly, to be the "young lady who had dared to pit herself against Wen Junhui".

Your mother and father had taken the remarks in shame, beginning to discourage you from pursuing music. Yet, you had taken no heed, continuing to find all ways to continue what had become your lifeline.

And as he soared, both in skill and in fame, to become the most popular violinist of the age, you worked equally hard at your art, staining your fingers with cuts and your wrists with injury as you strived to reach his heights.

And you had run into luck, for an academy run by a sharp-tongued man scouted you at a performance at your local church. Before long, you were on the stage, flitting from event to celebration, just as you dreamed. You played concertos and partitas to your heart's content, did opening acts for renowned orchestras, and headlined the stage in the courts of various nations, eager to keep climbing the ladder towards the goal that was Junhui.

But no matter your greviances, you truly enjoyed the stage. It was everything you had. You took pride in your work, you blushed at compliments, and you appreciated every chance there was to step on the stage and perch the four-stringed instrument on your shoulder.

Then came the day when you met your competitor for the very first time, performing at a gala held for a local lord. He'd looked at you, no doubt recognising you based on the gossip circulating around, and raised an eyebrow in teasing recognition before shaking his head and simply turning away. No formalities were exchanged, even though you were fully intending to be civil.

From then on, you both maintained a stoic but unspoken rivalry, making sniping remarks when you had the misfortune of meeting. Yet, years after it all started, here he was, standing in front of you, on a stage you would soon share.

And as luck would have it, a courtier walked over. Park, you remembered his last name with some effort. He had been the first to object when the court invited you to play at this ball. The papers had published his account of why you shouldn't be involved (boringly long, you thought).

"My, my, if it isn't the two legends of our time," He drawled, in a voice that grated on your nerves. "I must say, having you both on the same stage is rather...shocking."

Junhui raises his brows. "And what prompted that belief?"

"Oh, but doesn't everyone know of your rivalry, sir! Years upon years of competition of talent."

You let out a light laugh, leaning forward to the smug courtier to jest. "And which of us would you prefer, sir?"

His smirk is nothing short of hateful, you decide, when he replies, "Captivating as your music is, my charming lady, I find Sir Wen Junhui's music simply...breathtaking. Perhaps a fine man, bestowing his heavenly talents upon us all, is much welcomed now."

Junhui's smirk is even more hateful, you determine when he walks past you, Courtier Park in tow, his hand raising to pat your shoulder, which you brush off roughly, saying under his breath, "Better luck next time. Looks like you won't be playing in his court any time soon."

"Rot in hell."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"Oh, how wonderful that you both will be sharing the stage this time!" The Duchess claps her hand in appreciation after each of you plays excerpts of your performance pieces.

"It's an honour," Junhui replies, bowing low. You curtsey, noting the way the Duke nods at Courtier Park after.

"Refresh yourselves," The Duke instructs. "We will see you at the celebrations. We're looking forward to both of your performances."

You can't bring yourself to look interested when Junhui turns to you. "As am I." The smug, arrogant twinkle in his eyes does not go amiss.

You curtsey once more and at the couple's nods, stride out of the room, Junhui behind you.

"The Divertimento No.17 by Mozart," He muses. "A fitting choice. You always liked the cheer."

"And you could only dream of appreciating them."

"Snippy as ever, treasure," Junhui answers patronisingly, as easy as counting.

"Yes, well, you are no different from the last time we met," You reply coldly, turning a corner. "Stop following me."

"Our rooms are nearby, treasure," He drawls, leaning against the wall. "Remind me again why you're being so delightful?"

"Why, huh," You sneer back, turning to face him. "Where to start? Why are you even here?"

"Why am I here?" He echoes. "My dear, I was invited. As were you. Through our wonderful years of being around each other, you would know I dislike performing for the royals. I agreed because I owed His Grace a favour."

"Of course you did," You mutter. "Well, I'll get going. Go find your next person to terrorise, you take joy in that anyway."

His chuckles go on as you walk off, the skirts of your dress fanning out behind you.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

Notes, one after another, flow like water out of his bow, in rapid semiquavers and strong crotchets, chords easing through the strings as easy as the alphabet.

You can't deny Wen Junhui is a phenomenal performer.

It's two waltzes before your piece comes up, and the guests of the ball are mingling, filling in dance cards, getting to know one another. You see a few familiar faces, ladies of society whom you'd seen on other occasions. The Duke and the Duchess took the dance floor earlier, and are now nursing glasses of carefully brewed liquor, laughing and entertaining.

The head of the estate's entertainment announces your appearance, and you step up in front of the orchestra. At your cue, the piano launches into the familiar cheerful chord.

And off you go from there. You laser-focus yourself on every note, the vibrato you'd honed to perfection. And thankfully, all goes without a hitch, leading to resounding applause as people break away from their dance partners.

The Duchess bustles to you after you bow and get down. "My dear, that was magical."

"Oh," You smile at her gushing compliment. "Thank you. I enjoyed myself."

"And so you should," The Duke encourages, walking up next to his wife. "What a stunning job you've done."

The Duchess hums in agreement before exclaiming. "Right! I was coming to say, the governors want you and Sir Wen Junhui to dance together."

You stiffen. "I'm sorry?"

“As a sign of goodwill,” The Duke says. “Not very customary, given that you have no real ties to each other, but we think it would be nice. Not to mention, you both ought to loosen up and enjoy yourselves tonight. Do you not agree?”

You’re about to politely decline, but an arm slides around your arm and tugs you closer. Just a little. “Of course we do. Thank you for the offer, Your Grace.” Junhui nods at the beaming couple.

The Duchess smiles at you as her husband nods, satisfied and ready to help her to the dance floor again. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“I—”

“Hush,” Junhui croons as he sweeps you into his arms and across the floor in an elegant turn, the beginning notes of another popular waltz playing out. “We are meant to revel. Look at the atmosphere we’ve created. We ought to enjoy the fruition of our work, no?”

“Shut up.”

He smirks slightly at you. “As you please. You’re not a bad dancer, I see.”

You curse silently. In the distraction of the banter, your feet had automatically stepped alongside his, rhythmically and physically attuned as one — one body and one being.

Heavens, you hated it.

“Fall silent at praises?” He raises his brows.

You snort. “Why should I if it comes from you?”

He gasps in mock hurt. “You wound me, truly.”

“Oh, forgive me,” You simper, a sweet smile on your face. “Whatever should I do with that information?”

And back and forth it went again, till the last cadenza played. His confident and suave digs, your sarcastic and impatient snipes.

He lets go of you as the crowd starts mingling again, and smiles. “It was a pleasure. We’ll meet again.”

He presses a kiss to the back of your palm, winks and disappears into the throng, leaving you looking appalled at your hand.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1871, January 17th

“You want me to what?”

“Keep your voice down,” Your father urges.

“Oh, forgive me for being surprised that you’re marrying me off.”

“Daughter,” He says sternly, putting down his paper. “It’s Merchant Park’s son. A finely educated, young man. You will not do any worse with him. At the very least, it would make you seem more like the desired lady you are.”

“And what of my music?” You demand. “I have to put a stop to my dreams? On your order?”

“Dear,” Your mother cautions, then addresses your father. “Husband, we should tell her the truth. The deal is signed, anyway.”

Deal. You’re being sent to some stranger over a deal.

“We are not doing well, you know this,” Your father explains.

“I have told you, the commissions I get from the Lords and the palace—”

Your father holds up his hand. “Let me finish.”

“We need help to keep our estate and our rights,” He continues. “Merchant Park has very kindly provided a deal for us: a monetary exchange in return for a bride. As Mr. Nathaniel Park has proved himself a true man, we saw no reason to turn down such a win-win offer: a groom for our daughter and enough to sustain us.”

You clench your fists. “And you didn’t think to ask my opinion on all this? When I am the one to marry?”

Your father eyes you. “Daughter, things in other households are far worse. Some do not even know until the night before the matrimony. You might consider yourself lucky.”

You look to your mother, but she trains her eyes on her tea and doesn’t reply.

A painful lump forms in your throat. “Is there no other way?”

Your father shakes his head. “Not one as beneficial as this.”

“And will it ensure prosperity and stability for the rest of your days?”

He nods. “We will do much better than before.”

You blow out a resigned breath. “When will it be?”

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1871, March 1st

Church bells ring, shouts are heard.

You marry Mr Nathaniel Park in the nearest church to his estate. It has been the talk of the town, and throngs have turned up to see a wealthy merchant's son marry a talent of the nation.

Everyone, except for your families, seem to be under the impression that you had been seeing each other in secret for years, and had finally emerged to take the next step.

It’s all nonsense, every last detail, but the very same nonsense made it to the papers by next morning.

You leave your family home that night to start your life with Nathaniel.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, June 28th

You were bored out of your mind.

Your violin was locked up goodness knows where, and Nathaniel had explicitly said he had no intention of letting you return to the stage as a career.

It had killed you a little inside, but it was to little surprise. Men like Nathaniel and his equally unbearable father were common. And you had fully expected to be controlled and restricted in return for your family’s benefit.

Except you had severely underestimated how much time the violin occupied. With nothing to do and only so much overseeing of the estate you could do, you were about to go insane.

Worse, Nathaniel had been in a dark mood as people in the streets had started gossiping.

Because while Wen Junhui had continued to travel far and wide to showcase his talents, his rival (yes, you) had suddenly stopped doing the same — so suddenly that it was downright suspicious.

And your temporary reprieve came when an invite for a local lord’s ball came by the estate. In it, it urged for both your attendance and a a suggestion for you to perform. It seemed like a good chance for Nathaniel to turn the tide and assure society that you were still fulfilling your dream, and to quell any rumours.

Your fingers were rusty, so it was to your shock when Nathaniel allowed you to play and practice for a couple of hours.

“For the ball,” He warned. “Only for the ball. I cannot have people speculating why my wife has suddenly stopped performing publicly.”

It was better than nothing, you surmise.

And so it is to your greatest pride that you stand once again on the stage, performing a sonata you’d long since learnt by heart, the guests clapping and in awe.

And after you get off the stage, you use the start of yet another dance to allow yourself to be whisked away by your husband. But your impatience returns once you see who your dance partner is.

“I thought I’d come keep you company since it has been a while,” Wen Junhui smiles lazily at you as he captures your hand in his. “Congratulations are in order, I see.”

You shrug.

“Funny how the papers said you’d been seeing each other for a long while. A secret dalliance, did that paperboy say? Wonder where that came from.”

"Be quiet."

He does not, in fact, keep quiet.

“Dashing man,” He nods towards your husband, who is doing an awful job of hiding his scowl at you dancing with another. “Tell him to loosen up and smile a little. After all, his wife is the star of tonight.”

“Shut up.”

“Not proud of your matrimony?” He has a saccharine tone which you decide you really hate.

“You know nothing.”

“Huh.” His grin drops, no longer pleasant, as you take another turn around the floor, falling perfectly into place with other dancers. “Someone is snippy today.”

“Would you please stop?” You demand hotly. It’s not as if you would admit right this second that this marriage was what you want. “If you have nothing genuinely good to say, why don’t you—”

"Oh, so you want me to be quiet, huh?"

His eyes are now suddenly simmering with both mild anger and something else, perhaps impatience. With that same burning expression on his face, he grips your hand and hauls you toward him.

The abrupt and rough action makes you release a squeak of surprise, and his other hand catches your head in time to adjust it on his chest.

You struggle. "We are in public! Unhand me this instant!"

"I told you, be quiet."

"What?!"

"Be quiet and listen," He demands, pressing your head to his chest, using the throng of dancers and people to hide you from Nathaniel. "Listen and tell me what you hear."

You scowl up at him. "Is this a joke?"

"What do you hear?"

"Your heartbeat, like a normal living person?" You snarl. "What more is there?"

"Listen again."

After a brief pause, you ask him, "Why is it racing?"

He glares at you. "Exactly."

"What do you mean, exactly? That was not even my questi-"

"My God, use your brain for once," He sighs impatiently. "If I truly hated you, would I have picked you as my dance partner? Would I have offered you my company and my well-wishes? Would I, Y/N?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"Forget it," he snarls, biting his lip in impatience. "Go and be with your husband. Last I heard, he was looking for your whereabouts." He strides away, leaving you stunned.

And even as Nathaniel meets you and berates you for leaving his side, and as you get back into the homebound carriage with him, your mind stays only on Junhui.

If I truly hated you, would I have picked you as my duet partner?Would I have offered you my company and my well-wishes?

Would I, Y/N?

You lean your head on the back of the carriage, the lights of the city wide awake, even with the lateness of the hour, your mind whirling with thoughts you didn't know were true.

His racing heartbeat, your racing mind. He didn't hate you. The real question now was... did you hate him? Still?

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 4th

It's a rainy afternoon when everything falls apart. Nathaniel is in a horrible mood, and you're about to lose your mind.

No music, since he took it away from you once you got home. No money to seek any kind of entertainment, since he's in charge of the estate's finances. You can't even go out on a ride, since he's ordered the footmen to keep you within the property.

“What’s going on between you and Mr. Wen?” You look up at his seething question as he strides in and throws the morning paper down on the table in front of you. “It has been months and columns are still writing about you two!”

“What am I supposed to do, tell the writers to stop?” You ask drily, and a sudden strong fist grabs your arm and a blunt impact is unceremoniously struck to your face.

You freeze, blood running cold.

Nathaniel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest that he just hit his wife.

He grunts in displeasure. “Heavens, I’ll have to explain these articles to our family again.” He makes a tutting sound at you and strides out of the room, massaging his hand and rotating his wrist.

Amidst everything, the painful swell of your cheek and arm, the humiliation you feel, and the anger that courses through you, you can only think of one thing.

One person.

And so Junhui has the shock of his life when you turn up, panting and soaked in the downpour, at the gates of his estate. Your fine gown is as good as ruined, your updo plastered over your face. Your makeup is running, and Junhui wastes no time pulling you indoors.

"I didn't know where else to go," You murmur, strength sapped, and he says nothing, only signals to his servants to get towels and new clothes.

As he surveys you, his eyes widen in disgust and shock, and he takes your shoulders in his warm and gentle grip. "Was this him? Sir Park's son?"

At your unsettling silence, he repeats his question, more firmly this time. "Did he do this to you?"

For the first time in maybe your life, you meet his eyes fully. There is anger in his eyes, so raw and so deep, that you feel your eyes start burning again.

As you bow your head to blink the tears away, he lifts your chin to meet his eyes once more. "You have never shied away from me. Of all times, my treasure, I would beg you not to hide now."

You stay silent, and he repeats his question, each word more strained than the last.

You nod imperceptibly, confirming his worst fears.

"God," He groans, leaning forward to hold your hands in his large ones. "If I were a swordsman and not a musician, he would be gutted like a fish."

You try to crack a smile, but it just doesn't come out right. "You're not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be," He returns. "But whilst we are on this subject, perhaps my bow could do the job. It's sharp enough."

That finally coaxes a small, broken smile out of you, and his shoulders release slightly at the sight.

His servants return with the requested items, and after pushing you into a room with an adjoining chamber to dry off and get changed, he sits you down as he tends to you. Still shaken, you just let him, and you watch silently as he presses a small makeshift ice pack to your face, made of soft towels and crushed ice meant for drinks.

Occasionally, he brushes a hand through your hair to detangle it and let it dry. It's so... domestic, painfully so, and you're fully aware of how hard your heart is pounding.

"I hate you," His voice suddenly comes through, and you look up as they register. "I hate you so much, you know that?"

Your voice is hoarse as you reply. "I know. I know it all."

"I hate that you're here, in my estate. I detest the sight of you. I hate that we're here, only being civil under circumstances like these, and I loathe beyond comprehension that he did this to you. I hate it so much, but I despise you the most for not coming to my door the second it happened."

Your eyes sting again with tears, and he reaches up to wipe at them, his eyes the most tender you've ever seen.

"Do not shed tears for a man so undeserving," He murmurs. "It is unbecoming, you know."

"I know," You choke. "I didn't want to."

"Forget about him." His voice resounds like thunder. "You should not remain with a monster like him for your family. You are your own person, and your fate is in your hands."

He turns his attention back to the bruise on your arm, tending to it with the same gentleness and precision a tinker had with music boxes.

He called for medicine, clothed and fed you, only to hear you confess three hours later. "I must return before dawn. He will be seeking me out, and I can't have him come to your estate and make trouble."

"No." His firm refusal shot a pang into your heart.

"Junhui. I must."

"You will not return to that hellhole. It's my order."

"I have to, my family-"

"Would want their daughter to be whole and hale." His voice is deep and fierce, so much angrier than you've ever heard.

"I would not see you ruin yourself for a godforsaken life with him. If he can hit you once, and to this extent," he motions to you, "He will do it again and again. Each time even harder than the last. You will die at his hands!"

"The deal-"

"The money is the last thing on my mind!" He exclaims, now agitated. "I do not care about the riches or the deal your family has made with anyone. I just want you to be safe. I want you to be happy. Are you happy, locked up in a great lonely house with him, giving up on the art you have honed all your life, becoming his puppet and a shell of what you once were, only to be hit as if you are worth nothing?"

You shake your head, as if trying to shake off his words. "I know, you're right, Junhui, god! You are right about it all. But my family... they are everything to me. I worked all this time just so I could go home to them someday and live our days out in comfort. I...I cannot forsake them now. Not when they will be thrown into the streets and shamed if they do not honour the contract."

"Then stay here with me," He pleads. "I will handle all of it. I'll make sure no one gets hurt. You can perform and do everything to your heart's desire and I will never hold you back. Please."

"I cannot burden you with my issues!" You shout, choking back a poorly concealed sob, hands reaching to your hair to tug on it in frustration. "Please, Junhui, please, just... let me be. Live your life and let me live mine."

"You chose to come here tonight. Yet now you ask me to stay out this. How can I, if you're making a choice that may very well get you killed?!"

"I will not. You know that. I'm strong enough to handle it."

"Do you even know what you are handling?" He demands hotly. "A violent barbarian who knows only use his fists against a blameless lady and her family -- do you have any idea how horrendous that sounds?!"

You take a deep breath. "I-"

"I will open my gates to you and your family. I will give you my home, my sanctuary and protection, anything you will ever need. But in return, all I ask is that you leave that place. Leave someone who will never care for you the way you should be cared for."

"I can't, I can't. The world is in my way, his family-- they would never view me or respect me the way I want. Not as a musician who worked her way to the top. They will see me as a mere town-girl who seduced him for money and ran off with it. Everything I've done to make sure people never see me that way-- I can't handle that."

"And so you pick them, their satisfaction and influence, over your own fate?" He asks incredulously. "That strong, stubborn, steadfast woman I know -- where is she?"

"I am not picking. It is my only option! You have seen how the governors and men of the court see me, even as a musician in comparison to you. I would suffer that tenfold, and worse, my family will go the same path. I would rather die than allow it to happen, even if I must suffer."

The whole room goes silent, save for your breathing and his ragged pants.

His nose flares and his eyes narrow. His voice turns colder than the cruel winters of the land. "Is that what you truly mean?"

"..Yes. Yes."

After what seems like an eternity, he nods, so slightly you almost don't catch it. His lips curl, whether in disgust or mock of your decision, you do not know. He looks the most disappointed you've ever seen him. "Fine. Then let him destroy you. Let the people who do not matter, do not care about you tear you to shreds. Perhaps you were right, and I was the one meddling too much. I apologise." He starts walking away.

"Junhui-" You begin as you clutch his arm, dread running down your spine, but he simply looks at your hands wrapped around his with the indifference you thought was all he had. He looks at your pleading eyes, your shaking posture. He wants nothing more than to tell you how he feels, the immense frustration that you just won't let him be there for you... but through his raging emotions, his mouth stays shut.

"You can leave as you want," He says, all the emotion from prior gone. He finally looks you in the eye, his own betraying only the smallest hint of anguish and something you can't quite place. "I will not hold you back if that's what you desire. I just hope you will be happy with your decision, Y/N."

And then he's gone, leaving you to sink down in the middle of the room and cry into your hands, the finery of the gown he clothed you in now a mess around you.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 5th

"You have returned."

Not quite a question, but you nod to your husband, who is currently lounging on a newly embroidered couch, eyeing you up and down with something close to disdain in his eyes.

"Costume yourself. Conceal everything well. There is another ball tonight in honour of a newly debuted painter, and we must attend."

Fantastic. Yet another function where you would be on his arm, hang on to his every word, pretend to love him. "Must-"

Nathaniel raises his hand and you flinch. He lowers it, head tilting. "You heard me."

You head up to your chambers in silence.

Your tears flow as you dress yourself as instructed, every puff of makeup lowered to your face doing a terrible job of hiding the marks on your face, the exhausted swell of your eyes.

Fine. Then let him destroy you, Junhui had said bitterly.

He probably already had, you thought. In ways no one would ever see.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"Sir Park!" Court ladies and gentlemen alike hailed your husband as he helped you out of the carriage, painting the picture of a perfect husband. You see your mother, dressed in finery, looking awkward and uncomfortable with the current company. You start excusing yourself to walk to her, but Nathaniel holds you to him, glaring down at you with a fake grin plastered on his face. "What are you doing?" He hisses furiously under his breath.

"I am going to see my mother," You hiss back through gritted teeth, venom in your voice, a sweet smile fixed on your face as if you were exchanging an intimate secret. "Or would you prefer I scream for help, darling?"

He releases you immediately. "Be back swiftly. People will wonder of your whereabouts."

Without responding, you make your way through the crowd, smiling and bowing slightly to the upperclassmen who greet you. When you reach your mother, she visibly relaxes, reaching out to clasp your hand.

"My dear girl," She says, trying to smile. "You seem to have lost weight. Are you well?"

"Very, Mother," You reply, through a fake smile.

Concern shines in her eyes, and she tries to continue. "Daughter. Don't make the same mistakes I did, trying to keep defying your father. There are times where we must step back, and you might find that... life gets easier. The frustration will ease."

Would the frustration and pain of your marriage really fade? Would you, like Junhui insisted, be reduced to a hollow shell, numbed to everything and allow yourself to be treated like an unloved rag doll? Would you, after everything you did to make a woman out of yourself... become a meek and obedient arm candy, the one thing you never wanted to be?

As you pull away from your mother with a quiet excuse, you hear pleasantries being called to a new guest, and you turn to find Junhui, who clearly just entered the ballroom, staring directly at you.

You're not sure if your eyes look imploring enough, but it doesn't seem to work. Junhui turns away, and for the rest of the evening, you do not catch his eye.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 21st

Days pass and you still play the perfect wife.

The order is exactly the same. You attend balls, play one or two customary pieces for Nathaniel to receive the oohs and ahhs of your talent, and at the end of the night, you return to your great, lonely house and sleep alone.

Soon after you got home from the ball, Nathaniel received an invitation to a business conference with the lords of Sicily. He had, after careful deliberation, decided to bring you.

Fine, you think. At least with the business, he might be too busy to keep you in line all day.

Nathaniel hasn't hit you since that night, but you're constantly on tenterhooks, on edge that his anger might blow once more. It's a ticking time bomb at home, and not much better outside. It isn't as if you have anyone to lament to about your marital troubles.

Your impatience is getting worse day by day. You already know the deal could easily be nullified, with the riches you know your family has received, but your parents still have no intention of setting you free. And so, on a warm Tuesday afternoon, three springtimes after it all started, you make your decision, rash and unchecked.

"I want to leave."

"What?"

"I cannot live like this. Not as your trophy wife. I wasn't born for this."

"And where will you go?" Nathaniel sneers. "Who will have you, a once-married woman?"

"It matters not where I go," You shoot, "You have no business knowing. As long as I am away from you, you asshole!"

"Oh, I would be very entertained," He replies coldly, a mocking smile set upon his hateful face. "I would like to know which man would take in the likes of you, even if you go to Sicily and start anew. Or maybe Sir Wen Junhui has already defiled-"

You slap him hard. He clutches his cheeks, turning red from the impact and from his rage. "You dirty little rat-"

"You are the vermin that thinks that way," You seethe. "You are the problem here. Not me, not Junhui, not my family. This isn't about the deal we made with your father anymore. It is purely because I am a woman that you are behaving this way. If anything is being defiled here, it is my dignity and your reputation."

He scoffs. "And you really believe some good Samaritan will voluntarily take you in and give you a bright future? Even if you believe so, you will end up the same way, in their kitchens, whether in Sicily or anywhere in the world. I am doing you a favour."

He steps closer. "But perhaps you already have someone in mind? ...Sir Wen Junhui, perhaps?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "What's this got to do with him?"

"Oh, you don't fool me," He laughs humourlessly. "You think I never see the way his eyes move to you when you're in the same room? You think I don't notice how you glance at him? And those few moments at the painter's ball last month. Care to explain that, my dear wife?"

"We are not on good terms." You hiss, stepping up to him. "Shame on you that you think otherwise, because there is nothing going on. I am no cheating liar."

"Perhaps not," He muses. "But I would pay good money to see what he thinks of you."

You stand your ground. "I want a divorce. That's all I want. I can return all the money you want to you in due course. Just set me free."

"Let's see what the courts think of that," He challenges, and you clench your teeth, anger overriding you like never before. "Your whole family will crash and burn with you. All because of your erroneous ways."

You stride away from him, out the estate doors, and his condescending, bitter voice resounds in your head, eyes wide in the face of your rebellion. "You don't know men the way you think you do, Y/N. Mark my words. Wen Junhui will not take you in no matter what he says. Women only have one fate, and you sealed it the moment we married."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

Junhui opens the door and swears it's deja vu.

Mere weeks ago he did the same thing, only for you to break his heart in a span of a few hours. He surmises that it must be the same situation tonight.

Nevertheless, he opens the door to your panting figure wordlessly and lets you enter. You look sheepish as you adjust your gown, body heaving with the effort it took to run here, but he does nothing.

No, if he gave in and comforted you, he did not think he could risk another heartbreak.

You beat him to it. "I'm sorry I came," You start hesitantly. He stays silent, so you continue.

"Nathaniel, he-"

"Forgive me, but I do not wish to hear details of your marriage. You said it yourself, your life is not my concern." He knows he is being petty, but this was the only way he knew he would not overstep.

"It-"

"What more do you have to say to me?"

You open your mouth to reply, but the bell of his estate rings and you glance at him, petrified. You mouth the words as if the visitor would hear, Nathaniel? His jaw clenches instinctively.

He quickly ushers you into another room, a safe distance from the sitting room where they would still be in earshot. "Stay put," He warns.

He leaves for the main door, and you can hear him exchanging greetings with a man's voice, all too familiar.

It is Nathaniel. You expected it.

"Please, sit. Can I offer you a drink?"

"No need for formality. I am not here as Sir Park's son, but as Y/N's husband."

"...I see. Well, what can I do for you?"

"We are both gentlemen, Sir Wen," You hear your husband say. "Let us get right to the point. You harbour illicit feelings for my wife, do you not?"

"...I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Junhui's voice has turned cold. Nathaniel should be afraid, but he looks Junhui squarely in the eye.

"I told her this and I'll tell you too, Sir Wen," Your husband's voice is careless, as if he doesn't care what he's saying. "She is mine. And I have rules about the women in my life. They will not look at other men. Their life will change to suit mine. And if anyone tries to defy that, defy me, I will tear them down. You, my dear musician, are no exception."

The room goes silent for a moment. "Well, I am glad we straightened this out." You can practically feel Nathaniel smiling, smug in his arrogance. "Y/N will be heading to Sicily soon, and I must ready our travel plans. Goodness, what a world we live in!"

His footsteps scuff the ground as he gets up, then stop. "This was a nice meeting, but the next time we chat about this, I will not be as friendly." You hear his chair creak. "Well, as you were. Good evening."

"You do not deserve any part of Y/N." Junhui mutters.

"...I'm sorry?"

"I said, you do not deserve her." Junhui repeats, each word firmer than the last. "If you knew her at all, those vile, vulgar words should never have left you. Had you not wed her just for her talent and face value, you would have seen her for who she is -- a strong, talented, and truly selfless woman. She gave up her music, her lifeline, to marry a man she barely knows just for her family's sake. If you ever bothered to observe her beyond your conceited and overbearing ego, you would have found bliss with her by your side."

"...I knew coming to an agreement so quickly was suspicious." YOur husband laughs, slightly cruelly. "And you would know all that of my wife, because?"

"I do not know her as well as I'd like, but I know better than to let go of such a precious being." Junhui's words do not cease, each one hitting home hard. "The innate truth is, neither you nor I deserve her. I will not lie that she showed up at my estate the night you laid your filthy hands on her, and nothing has ever made me angrier. So I swear, from now on, not a single hand will land upon her, or be damned this nation and its money, I will make it my life's duty to ensure you never again see the light of day."

Nathaniel chuckles, as if Junhui's words are but a gust of wind, as insignificant as one raindrop in a thunderstorm. You cannot stay and hear any more of this. So you creep towards the nearest window, ajar to let air in. As you crawl out, careful not to hook the hem of your gown on the hinges, and flee for the back gate, you hear your husband croon. "There must be more than meets the eye, Mr Wen. Although, I hope you know where you stand. Y/N will never belong to you."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 24th

"Thank you for coming, Mother," You try to smile at her, as she sits across you.

"You have never invited me over before," She says brightly. "What did you seek me out for?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Okay..." She comments, putting her teacup down. "Go on."

"I wish to leave Nathaniel."

"What?" Your mother is beyond alarmed, sitting forward and furrowing her brows. "Daughter, you know--"

"He hits me," You blurt out, and her eyes widen. Perhaps not the most graceful or discreet way to expose your suffering, but to you, there was no nice way to say it, no matter how much it hurt.

"He-- Y/N--"

"And someone else came and saved me. In so many ways, even the ways I did not know I could be saved.”

"Wh-" Your mother looks truly befuddled, and in any other situation, you might have laughed at the astounded look on her face.

"Wen Junhui." You continue blabbering. "He has seen me for who I am, at my best and at my worst, and he... he has healed me. He told me the truth that no one bothered to say, and he taught me that... that my fate is my own. Mother... I do not think I can live by the words of others. I think... I think that would make me miserable beyond belief."

Your mother is silent for what seems like an eternity, and you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

She finally opens her mouth to speak, and your breath catches.

“Of all people,” She murmurs, before giving you a soft smile. “I never would have thought that Mr. Wen would be the one to catch your eye.”

You shake your head in fond exasperation. “Life works in mysterious ways.”

“No.” She disagrees. “It has its own wiles and ways, but everything… everything happens for a reason. We were foolish to try forcing your happiness, weren’t we?”

You shake your head again. “I know you want the best for me.”

“I do, and I am glad you trust that, Daughter,” Your mother says softly, and you look at her, the gentleness of it all making your eyes glass over. “And if the best for you can be found in Mr. Wen…”

She dabs at her eyes carefully to prevent the kohl from running, and shoots a smile at you, genuine and loving. “Who are we to disagree?”

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 27th

"You'll need more coats. Those dresses of yours are so overbearing." Nathaniel comments as your maids fold both of your clothes into trunks.

You grit your teeth but say nothing, as you pick out your jewellery.

"And this," He holds up another gown, one of your personal favourites, a sweet baby-blue confection with small gems sewed meticulously within. "Outrageous. Have it burned, my wife will not be seen in things as skimpy as th-"

"Shut up!" You can't recognise your shout. "Just keep your mouth shut for a moment, won't you?"

He advances upon your retort, eyes glittering. "What did you just say to me?"

"I will not go to Sicily with you." You say resolutely.

He starers at you for a moment, then bursts into laughter. "You? Turning Sicily down? How amusing."

"I'll never go anywhere with you." You snap, backing away. The maids hesitantly put down their work, then proceed to leave the room, leaving just the two of you.

"Don't be ridiculous, wife," Nathaniel says condescendingly. "Sicily would be good for us to start over. Too many nuisances here."

As he laughs and returns to selecting clothes, you scoff. "You're one to talk. You ruined my life, you took everything dear to me away."

He throws down the possessions, a loud shout bouncing off the walls. "Understand one thing. You are nothing, you understand? I could crush you and all that you have under my boot all in a day's work."

You push back, enraged. "Don't you project your emotions and problems on me. Junhui was right. You don't know any part of me. Not what I love, you're nothing that any sane person wants or needs. You're human vitriol."

"Junhui, Junhui, Junhui," Nathaniel sneers. "So you do know he's in love with you. Why else would you allow him to poison your mind? That pest--"

You punch him in the mouth.

You punch your husband, a rich and influential merchant's son, square in the mouth.

Now, you're not a strong woman, and in any fight, you'd be knocked out like a light. But given that Nathaniel did not expect any form of violence or pushback from you, when he was so close to taking you to Sicily permanently, he stumbles back in surprise and clutches his jaw.

Taking advantage of his confusion, you run.

You run and run and run, to the stables, upon a mare, and urge it out towards Junhui's estate.

So you do know he's in love with you.

This was the only time you wanted -- yearned -- to believe Nathaniel Park.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"You must think my home is a vacant shelter," Junhui comments as he lets you in.

He stiffens when you say nothing. "What is going-"

"Junhui." You lock eyes with him, firm and headstrong. "Are you in love with me?"

He stops moving entirely for five moments before chuckling. It sounds so artificial.

"No, that idea is repulsive."

"Junhui-"

"No."

"Junhui." You take his hands and plead. "Tell me the truth, and only the truth. Is it true, that you are in love with me?"

He tries swatting your hands away. "Please stop. Leave."

"I will the second you tell me that you are not in love with me. I will disappear from your sight for the rest of my life, I will leave for Sicily without looking back, and I will never return. Just answer me, just this once. Are you in love with me?"

His resistance snaps as he whirls to you.

"I've been crazy for you the moment I laid eyes on you!" He chokes out, eyes burning with emotion, hands flying to wipe furiously at them. "I couldn't fathom the thought that you hated me from the moment you saw me, goodness knows why, but I figured -- if that was the only way I'd see you for who you were, wild and free and beautiful, instead of the other ladies in court who put up facades to be around me -- I'd take it all. Whatever you gave me, I'd take and play along."

He swallows before he continues. "And yet it wasn't enough. Competing on and off the stage with you. I was in Rome when I received word of your union with that...that monster. I hated myself then. I regretted immensely that I had not asked for your hand before someone else did. I must have been complacent that you would always be around."

"Y-You...you never sought me out." You say softly, stunned at the revelation.

"It was a marriage between a renowned merchant's son and the world's best violinist, celebrated by all... I could not compare. Love would not cut it. Love would never cut it."

You could not help but cup his face, wiping the tears that leaked from his earnest eyes. "I truly believed you would find happiness with that man, treasure. I genuinely wished you well, even if it broke me." He whispers.

"And then you turned up at my gates, with bruises on you and a horrific story to tell," He continues, clenching your hands in his, "Yet I had to watch you, and let you return to that son of a bitch of your own will just so your family could live in peace!"

His body, now racked in sobs, crumples to the ground, bringing you with him as you cradle his head, tears of your own now dripping down your face. "Here you are now, one step away from moving to Sicily as you dreamed, asking me if I am in love with you? My beloved, is that really a question, or simply a confirmation?"

He looks up at you, eyes rimmed in red. "I cannot burden you with my emotions now. Not when you're achieving your dreams. Not when you and yours are suffering under the world's scrutiny. I love you so deeply that I know I cannot do that. If I cave into my emotions... you will be shackled to me, and I cannot have that on my account."

"No." You interrupt. His eyes raise to meet yours, as if in disbelief at what he was hearing.

"I plan to leave Nathaniel. All future plans are gone, and we will not be going to Sicily."

His eyes dilate in shock. The world goes silent, and it's just the two of you.

"I...I spoke to my mother. Way before today. About what you said. A lot of it was what you said." Your voice sounds foreign, so strange to your own ears. "I told her that I would settle the deal and anything we owe in any other way that would not require my happiness as a trade. I told her...I could not bear to let people who did not care if I lived or died dictate how I spend my days. I showed her the wounds he gave me. And I told her how you healed them."

He could not speak, could not move. The fact that you had decided to show your suffering to the one person you did it all for... he did not know whether to praise or cry at your bravery. That you, terrified yet adamant, had made a choice that would finally change the trajectory of your life.

You take a deep breath. Clasp his shaking hands in yours as you find your next sentence.

"You know this. The current divorce bill has always favoured men. In this age, no matter how big I am, no matter how much proof of how awful he is, society will only ever choose him over me. I have every intention to leave that monster, but it will be a tedious, arduous task, and I cannot promise anything out of it -- but what I can promise is that if you want me, you have me. Wholeheartedly, even if hell bestows its wrath upon us, my heart will always be yours. It..."

He waits with bated breath for your next words, his grip on your hand just as unwavering as your will.

"It must have been yours from the moment you pushed me to leave. You were the only one who saw me as anything more than a trophy wife, even with everything I threw your way. I only realised too late... that what I need isn't someone who would speak behind my back, or only support me from the sidelines."

His hands reached up to your face, trembling, cold, so full of emotion he felt like he would combust.

"I need someone like you to stand with me. I need you, Junhui."

It was all he ever wanted to hear. For the longest time, ever since he could remember. Just the thought that you might want him, competitor and all, shakes him to the core.

He grabs you and pulls you to him, hands gripping your waist. Tears form once more in his eyes as he shuts them and presses his mouth firmly to yours, and you can taste the salty tang of them on your tongue as you wrap your hands around his shoulders and tug him towards you. He smothers any remaining space between you -- not that there was much at all -- and wraps his arms wholly around you.

You both enjoy how you mold into each other so, so perfectly -- like a major scale, like a perfect chord, like the coda of your favourite orchestral symphony. One kiss against the next, the tune of your heart swelling into a brilliant crescendo.

You stay like that, lost in the throes of passion, heads tilting to accommodate each other, and when he finally pulls away, leaving you breathless as you meet his eyes, his expression changes into one of such deep love and joy, tears spring into your eyes again.

He draws you into a warm embrace, stroking the back of your head as you find solace in his arms. "Do not weep, treasure. I need you to stay with me, because after all these years of butting heads with each other, you are finally mine."

And as the darkness of the night descends upon the land, neither of you make any move to let go, because Junhui was right.

After all this time, of fighting and being at odds, you were where you really belonged.

With the man whose career you once swore to end, yet the only person who managed to play his way into your heartstrings.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"And you must still leave, because?" Junhui is frowning, evident even with his head down, playing with your fingers. You look at him longingly.

"To finish what I have started, Junhui," You murmur, looking at him. "There is to be a court hearing, and only then will I know if I can leave him."

He only frowns further. "And you will be going alone?"

"My mother will be coming with me. I would need support."

His expression does not relax as you hoped, as he continues, "I presume I cannot go?"

"The court would be even less in my favour if you were to show up. Imagine the scandal it would cause!" You reply, chuckling as you fiddle with the silk material on his waistcoat, soft and fluffy against your rough fingers. "Why? Can't get enough of me already?"

"Shut up," He replies instantly, voice bitter. "If you had just married me before and not bothered with him, you could've avoided all of this."

"It was arranged, you idiot! And I wonder, who was the one who didn't ask for my hand and pined about it on his own?"

"I did not pine!" He defends immediately. "I could have you thrown out for such slander, you know."

"You keep telling yourself that, Junhui," You reply, smiling slightly. "How was I to know you wanted to marry me from the start?"

"You had your head up in your ass, trying to win a competition that didn't exist," He responds without missing a beat, grinning devilishly, and now you were ready to release a string of curses that would make your poor mother weep.

"Listen here, you little-"

He takes your raised fist and holds it easily in his own.

You scowl deeply. "What do you want from me now?"

"I want you to decide for yourself. Go and do what you have to for your own happiness. If you decide you do not want me-"

A slap to his chest leaves him stunned.

"Are you actually lacking in intelligence somewhere up there?" You hum. "You're much more an idiot than I thought."

"What?"

"I spilled all I had in my mind to you, you nincompoop." You mutter. "I want you. I will only want you from here on out. Don't be stupid."

"Do you mean it?"

"That you're stupid? Without a doubt."

"You know what I mean." He holds your gaze. That in itself has you gaping in mock hurt.

"Do you not trust my words in the slightest?" You ask incredulously. "My, what do you think of me?"

He raises his eyebrows. "After the past ten years? You want me to be honest?"

You slap his chest again indignantly and he laughs.

"Junhui," You say, softer than ever before, and he looks back at you, eyes shining. "I mean it all. Down to the last word. Please... believe me."

He'd never heard so much as a request from you, never mind a 'please'.

"I do. Gods... I do. More than anything." He cups your face affectionately, and you melt at the touch. He seems as though he's gearing himself up to say something, and after a few moments, he finally loosens his tongue.

"From now to the end, I will wait. I'll be right here. No matter the number of waltzes and music I must grace this ridiculous society with, you must promise, promise, you will come back for me." He leans into your hold, and the intimacy, the gentleness Nathaniel never once provided, makes you blink back tears.

"I will." You say. No more word play or snarky responses. Your promise hangs between the two of you, strong as the red string of fate shining between your interlinked fingers, bright as the days ahead.

With Junhui by your side.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1875, April 2nd

Resounding applause booms through the concert hall. Junhui takes his final bow as the stage closes. Women were swooning, men applauding the prodigy violinist that finally graced the stage of Jahn's Hall. People waving could be seen wherever Junhui looked.

Show-off, you think to yourself. Yet, your legs betray you, standing up to carry you to the wings of the back-stage.

You handle your gown with ease, your feet carefully navigating through throngs of Junhui's well-wishers, the people manning the operations, all the way to the back where you saw clearly a large crowd forming.

Where the crowd was largest was where Junhui would be.

You pick at the bouquet in your hands in slight hesitation, until a man you recognise from many concert halls catches sight of you and promptly yells, "If it isn't Miss Y/N! Another wonderful musician in our midst! Freshly back from the courts eh?"

You shoot him a small smile and a nod, and he immediately starts elbowing people out of the way. "Out of the way, folks! She must be here for Mr Wen. The rumours are true, so move, fellas!"

Slowly, the crowd dissipates, fading to the sidelines, until Junhui notices the strange crowd movement. He looks up from his conversation with another man, and he freezes in his spot when he sees you.

Heart thumping so loud you can't hear anything else, you raise the bouquet (you searched for the perfect arrangement for almost a week, but you would carry that secret to the grave) and with a smirk on your face, you drawl, "Missed me?"

The crowd bursts into noise, full of clamouring and people shouting. Through it all, you pay them no attention, your focus only on the man in front of you, staring as though he's never seen you before.

Junhui stays stock-still for a few moments. You're starting to think he doesn't want you here.

"I know I did not write to tell you I was returning, but I can explai-"

The greatest violinist of the age strides over to you, captures your face in both his warm hands and kisses you.

You can feel him shaking as he presses himself tightly into your embrace, your foreheads almost touching.

"Seven months," He rasps out, pressing kisses on your mouth between each word. "Seven months and not a word from you. I imagined you'd run off with another man."

"Who else could have infiltrated my mind as you can?" You choke a laugh, reciprocating him with equal fervour. "Day and night, I ached to write to you, but I could not jeopardise my position in the court hearing."

"And what was the outcome?"

"Of what?"

"You know very well what!" He says, drawing away from you but keeping you locked still in his hug. "What of the case?"

You stay silent and his smile fades. "You are frightening me, treasure."

You laugh at that, unable to keep up the facade. "Ruled in my favour. We have signed the separation papers, and I am a free woman."

He shouts out something intelligible, and wraps you up in another bone-crushing hug which you happily return.

"I am glad I kept my promise," You murmur as he sways you around, lost in the joy of you back by his side. You hardly notice the hum of activity as someone ushers the crowd out of the room. "I hate to say this, but it may have been the best decision of my life."

"You say that now, treasure," He teases back before looking at you, puzzled. "What promise? As I recall, you did not write to me at all."

"That I would come back for you," You answer, without missing a beat. "That promise echoed in my head, every single day. When I stood my case, when I went to listen to an orchestra play the first day after learning I'd won. When I hastened my departure and my mother told me to be happy, all I thought of was coming home to you."

He pulls back and looks at you, eyes slightly glassier than they were before, and the brightness in his expression, the love in it, etches itself in your mind permanently.

"And you are home with me now."

"I am."

"You are not leaving me again, treasure. It is an order."

"You sound sappy. Stop that right this second."

"You started it first, darling. Your promise echoed in your head? Really?"

"You're insufferable. I hope you know that."

"Remind me when we marry. You love me anyway."

You sigh, half-helpless and half-fond, and reach up to rake your hands through his hair.

"I do. Gods... I do. More than anything."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1946, November 11th

"Hang that over there, please. Right at the centrepiece of the fireplace."

"Here, madam?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Treasure, you look at this portrait too many times in a day."

"Be quiet. This was the only good decision you made in our lives."

"You say that now. What of marrying me? Was that not the best thing you did?"

"The worst decision of my life, I can assure you."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I hate you."

"Love you too, treasure."

"..."

"You're smiling."

"I am not!"

"The curve of your lips won't go down. You are not sneaky."

"Shut up. I told you we should go see the classical group before they leave tomorrow."

"Don't distract me. We can look at the picture a little longer. It isn't time to go yet."

"Ah...finally, something good coming out from your mouth."

"The same mouth that kisses y- ow! My face!"

"Not another word!"

"Fine! God, you horrible lady."

"Fine, you wretched man!"

Shaking his head and smiling, the man, much older now, but with the same charming smile and earnest eyes, reaches his arm out to wrap it around his wife, tongue still sharp from their youth, yet still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. She lets him embrace her, even leaning back semi-reluctantly, to his great amusement.

"Look at that," The lady marvels. "Look how wonderful the artwork is, Junhui. Goodness, I still remember the whole day."

"The best day of my life, treasure," The man responds gently. "I'll never forget."

Snug in each other's arms, the couple looks on, at the memory of their younger selves. The time has come and gone, but the days ahead of them are still as bright, the memory of this portrait just as vivid as ever.

The portrait of a beautiful young woman and a tall, dashing young man, sitting together on their wedding day, arms interlinked and smiles forever etched on their faces. Two violins sit next to each of them, and a small plaque attached below the portrait reads:

"Commissioned: Wen Junhui and Y/N L/N, March 7th 1876."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

author's note:

SURPRISE FIC in the middle of “This Summer”!!

i play the violin, so i was veeerrry excited to write one about music!! especially a period romance?? yes pleaaaasee

thank you for reading! 🎻🤍 feedback is always welcome :”)

This is so adorable. I adore Hoshi so much so I loved reading this.

Lost and Found - ksy

⤑ anonymous said: how about a soulmate au with soonyoung where you lost things and it appears in your soulmates room and vice versa? so you can get to know each other through items they’ve lost. can we get lots of fluff after they meet?

⤑ genre: fluff, some angst, soulmate au ⤑ pairing: Soonyoung x Reader ⤑ warning: just a lot of fluffy fluff with a splash of angst ⤑ summary: All your life, items had been disappearing from your room only for strange items to appear. Items that didn’t belong to you. Your grandmother told you the items belonged to your soulmate and that your lost items were in his room. You didn’t believe her until you began noticing all the items that appeared in your room had the same initials on them: S.K. ⤑ word count: 6.6k

listen: ♪ || ♫

a/n: This is such a cute concept! Thank you so much for sending it in! ~K♡

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all for love | xu minghao

ミ★ synopsis: when you cough up the petals, you’re left with two choices. undergo the surgery where you’ll lose the love you have for the person that caused the disease, or tragically die with your love unrequited. [ requested by @adoreateez ]

ミ★ genre: hanahaki!au, angst, some fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: vomiting/coughing of flowers

ミ★ word count: 9,478

ミ★ pairings: xu minghao x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! i’m so sorry this is so late omg, i know that you requested it like a month ago AAAA i hope you like it tho </333 i know it might not be as angsty as you may have wanted </333 think it could be better but i </333 hope it’s okay </333 i also don’t know how this oneshot ended up being so long im cryin real tears NAKJESGKDTB

ミ★ taglist: @sunlightwoo​ @coppertrashi​ @sweetsoonhan​ @brinnalaine​ @minluvly​ @wonunuu​ @suhfluffy​ @shuajeong​ @euphorencia​ @imjustuhhvibing​ @minghao-will-be-the-death-of-me​ @shuahaeee​ @jaeyuni​ @sunflowergyeomie​ @cheolliehugs​ @smileyjmvn @chanberriees @vi-nnx​ @kodzumo​ @dwcljh​ @thanky0uverykamsa​

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Make It Make Sense [Part 3]

pairings: soonyoung x fem!reader, wonwoo x fem!reader

synopsis: you’re hopelessly in love with your roommate and best friend, wonwoo, yet you’re fucking his least favorite person, kwon soonyoung? make it make sense.

genre/warnings: explicit smut (minors DNI!!), unprotected sex (soonyoung forgot the goods . . .), consensual intercourse (honestly soonyoung is so sexc for this), car sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cunninglus, squirting, creampie, riding, use of profanity, angst, fwb, one-sided pining, SO MUCH jealousy, oc teases soonyoung about being a fuckboi, soonyoung cries, wonwoo is emotionally constipated, unedited - everyone ask surprise

wc: ~5k

taglist: @onlymingyus @listxn @deekayownsme @greasywall @pandorashbox @felix-3002 @haobrainrot @misssugarlips @pooofthechicken @mysweetdokyungsoo @horangh03 @skittlez-area512 @haogyuslut @starlight-night0 @omghwa @defprettysoul

pls lmk through an ask if you wanted to be part of the taglist! if you asked previously and i forgot to add you, i apologize 😭 the request was everywhere, but i did my best to find everyone!

a/n: y'all haven't seen the last of jeon wonwoo! blaming @sleeplessdawn😤😈

p.s. the smut ain't that great this time around because i had a hit of reality and got shy . . . not to mention their arguments are kind of stupid lol, so yeah . . . sorry - read at your own risk aka cringe!!!

as always, thank you for reading! i would love to hear your thoughts whether it be trhough rbs/asks/comments 🥰

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The car door slammed loudly behind him. On the palm of your hands, you crawled back towards the opposite door to make room for Soonyoung in the backseat of his SUV. Hastily, he discarded his jean jacket in the front driver’s seat. His breathing was uneven from the speedwalk from the amusement park to the far end of the parking lot. If it were up to Soonyoung, he would’ve taken you in the bathroom, but he had the decency to consider that it was a family-friendly attraction – it was not sexy to be caught balls deep in the girl of dreams while traumatizing a six-year-old boy. It was moments like this he was grateful, he spent an arm and Jihoon’s leg on this SUV. 

Soonyoung’s touch was titillating. He wrapped his hands around your ankles, slowly sliding them up your shins, coming to a rest on your thigh just at the hem of your leather skirt. Running his tongue over his lips, he looked up at you curiously, silently waiting for you to give him the ‘okay’ to go further. You hated this version of Soonyoung: his sharp eyes suddenly turned innocent, his teasing smile that he traded for a soft one that made his cheeks look like dough, his eagerness and stubbornness to take things head on, gone because he wanted to be patient for you. Though seeming vulnerable, this version of Soonyoung had the power to mitigate all thoughts of Wonwoo; instead, it was as if this whole time Soonyoung who had been your whole world. It made your stomach churn, bile threatening to come up your esophagus. 

But was it out of guilt?

Or denial?

With a shaky sigh, your eyes fluttered shut, giving him a slow nod to move forward. Heat pooled at your core as you felt his fingers brush against your skin underneath hidden by your skirt. You clenched at nothing at the touch of his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. Through the fabric of your underwear, he let his finger dance across the outline of your slit. Your thighs threatened to collapse at his touch, but Soonyoung was quick to push them wide again. One finger became two and two became three – it wasn’t long before his whole hand was rubbing at your clothed core. You jutted your hips into his touch, grinding along with his movements. 

Soonyoung watched your face contort in pleasure. Your lips falling agape, veins popping along your neck as you tried to fight a whine threatening to escape. Your underwear began feeling damp, your slick starting to soak through the cotton. He pressed harder into your core, eliciting garbled sound from you as you tried to stop a moan. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Soonyoung soothed you, “Let it out – it’s just you and me here.”

However, rather than listening to him, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in an effort to seal your lips. 

Soonyoung chuckled – you were never really one to listen anyways. 

“Here,” Soonyoung leaned down, hovering over your face. His eyes scanned your face from the thick of your eyebrows to the plush of your lips, “Let me help you.”

He pushed aside your underwear, rubbing his thumb over your bare clit when suddenly he plunged a finger into you. You immediately released your bottom lip from your teeth, whining from the sensation of his finger circling against your warm walls. Soonyoung took the opportunity to mold his lips against yours. His tongue swiped over your plush lips, a hint of cotton candy the cotton candy you shared with Wonwoo earlier, filling his taste buds. Pressing a hand on his chest, you granted him access, slipping your own inside his mouth, adjusting your head to better fit your lips together. 

Kissing Soonyoung felt like the thrill of riding a roller coaster. The suck of your bottom lip sent butterflies fluttering in your abdomen. The swipe of his tongue along the inside of your cheek was euphoric. Even when he pulled away for a millisecond for air, there was exhilaration in wondering where his lips would land next. 

You were on cloud nine, but you were greedy for more. Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself wrapping your hands around the nape of his neck, tugging Soonyoung down closer to you. You moved your hips forward, allowing his finger to penetrate even deeper inside of you. He pushed an additional finger inside of you, figuring you could handle the stretch being so eager. You entangled your fingers at the sensation, tugging at his jet black locks, now Soonyoung’s to let out a grunt at your rough touch. 

“Want you inside me,” you whispered in between pecks. 

“Later,” Soonyoung immediately replied, his two digits moving languidly in and out of you,“Wanna,” he paused to plant a kiss on the corner of your lips, “eat you out.”

Immediately, Soonyoung felt your core squeeze, flooding his fingers with your juice. Sound of your pussy squelching around his fingers was heavenly. It sent blood rushing to his dick as it began twitching in his jeans. He felt the precum already squirting from his tip, dampening a patch on his boxers. 

As quickly as he put in his second finger, Soonyoung slipped his fingers out. You whined at the emptiness, resting your head against the windowsill behind you, fog hiding yours and Soonyoung’s dirty deed from public view. Giving you one last kiss, he sucked harshly on your bottom lip. A peck on your neck, a peck on your collarbone, a peck on your sternum, then your bare abdomen, then the insides of your thighs, he made his way down to your core. 

Flipping up your skirt, Soonyoung pushed aside your cotton panties that were sopping with your juices. Hungrily, his tongue swiped once up your slit, his lips then molding onto your sensitive bud, sucking and nipping. Replacing his mouth with his thumb, he pressed up into your clit, moving in the shape of a figure eight. His touch was slow at first, starting to speed up as he moved down lower, his breath fanning over your hole. You shivered at the teasing sensation, squirming under his firm hold. You were sorry for whoever would be sitting here afterwards, your juices probably staining the plush seats of his SUV. 

Soonyoung pulled apart your folds, his tongue dipping into your entrance and lapping at your pink walls. You winced once again at his euphoric touch, your hands immediately shot down, grabbing a handful of his hair and rammed him further into your core. He groaned at your tug, sending vibrations through you. The combination of his tongue and his thumb overwhelming your senses, you felt adrenaline surge through your veins and your vision blotted white. A gush of warm fluid suddenly spilled into Soonyoung’s mouth, taking him by surprise. 

You fucking squirted. 

Right into his mouth. 

“Baby that was so,” Soonyoung ran his tongue slowly over his lips, savoring the taste of you, “Hot.”

He chuckled, expecting another whine or complaint from you, but was met with nothing. He bent down to hover over you, either hands planted on either sides of your face. Your eyes were sealed shut, blood drawing from a cut on your bottom lips. He frowned at your wound, leaning down to give it a soft kiss as if it would heal it. You tasted yourself from his peck, frowning in the process. Your hands flew to your face in embarrassment when he pulled back. 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” you said, your voice muffled by your palms. 

Soonyoung chuckled, grabbing your wrist and trying to pull them away from your face. “Relax, it was fine!”

“No it’s not!” you whined, “I like . . . peed into your mouth!”

“And it was delicious.”

Your hands fell just far enough to show your eyes staring daggers at him, your brows furrowed together in disgust. Teasingly, Soonyoung licked his lips once more to make a point. 

“You –”

His hearty laughter reverbated off the insides of the SUV. Soonyoung wrapped his arms around the small of your waist, letting his head dip into your chest, his breath fanning against your exposed skin. You let your hands slip to the crown of his head, gently stroking his hair, doing your best to suppress the urge to giggle with him. 

As Soonyoung came down from his high, he raised his head to look at you, chin resting on your sternum. You pouted at him, though he knew you were only feigning annoyance – you looked so fucking cute, he couldn’t resist the urge to devour your lips once more. 

“I’m not done with you yet, you know?” Soonyoung whispered when he pulled away. 

“You better not be,” you challenged him, a dark glint flashing across your eyes. 

Excitedly, he sat back in his seat, fishing his wallet out of back pocket. Rifling past the few bills and scraps of receipt, Soonyoung looked for the spare condom he always carried with him in case or emergencies like this. Thumbing past the last receipt from the fried chicken restaurant he treated Seungkwan to, the writing already faded, he found none. He quickly sorted through the contents again, his eyes peeled for the golden wrapper. 

"Soonyoung," you moaned, dragging out the last syllable of his name.

Dumping the contents of his wallet onto the front seat, his hand ran over everything. Unfortunately, nothing new was found other than a few spare coins.

Soonyoung's lips parted in disbelief, his heart sinking into the depths of his stomach, silently berating himself for not replenishing his stores. You were sad and needy now, his dick was still stiff, and he couldn't do anything about it. 

When did he last use it? You're the only person he'd been sleeping with these past few months, granted the two of you had a lot of sex he didn't always remember.

"Soonyoung?" you tried again, pushing yourself up by your elbows.

"Baby," he responded gently, leaning forward to capture your lips, his hand brushing away the few strands of hair.

"I need you," you replied breathlessly when he pulled away, pawing at his thighs. "Please."

"I have something to tell you, baby," Soonyoung said hesitantly.

You peered up at him, waiting for him to reply.

"I-I don't have a condom," Soonyoung confessed, "I don't know what happened to it - I always keep one in there . . . I'm sorry baby."

A soft 'oh' left your lips. Your eyes fell from his gaze, landing on your near bare abdomen. You clenched, your core aching at the sense of emptiness.

Pressing his lips against your temple, Soonyoung apologized again. "I can. . . Eat your out again? Or finger you? Ride my thigh? Anything you want."

Your eyes flickered up to him, quickly reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers together, you gave him a soft squeeze.

"It’s okay," you told him.

Soonyoung's eyes fluttered shut and rested his forehead against yours. He shook his head. "No it's not."

You paused, staring off at a spot behind him.

"We can do it without it," you said.

"W-what?" Soonyoung asked, not believing his ears. He stared at you blankly. Condomless sex had never an option – the both of you agreed when this all started. 

"Do me raw,” you said in a small voice. Your knees fell to either side. Gnawing at your bottom lip, you pushed yourself towards him, urging him to continue. 

"Baby –"

"I'm the only other person you've been with recently right?"

Soonyoung nodded fiercely.

"Are you clean?"

"I got checked before we started - as far as I know, I am."

"Me too " the corner of your lips twitched into a subtle smile.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, or vice versa. You had an IUD, so pregnancy wasn’t so much of a concern, and clearly neither were STIs, but you could never be too sure. 

What could’ve hanged?

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure . . . I want to feel all of you."

Soonyoung searched your face for any signs of uncertainty, only to be met with eagerness swimming across your eyes. 

“I trust you, Youngie,” you pleaded. 

His dick strained against his jeans. 

Fucking hell. 

Not that nickname. 

It was childishly stupid, but it was seldom you ever called him ‘Youngie.’

Soonyoung started undoing the buckle of his jeans, his fingers fumbling with the button and zipper. Simultaneously, he slipped his boxers and jeans off together, his member slapping against his lower abdomen. Your mouth salivated at his angry red tip dripping with precum. 

"Okay," Soonyoung repositioned himself in between your legs. He ran his hands up your thighs, readjusting your skirt for better access to your entrance. He rubbed his member to spread his precum, better preparing himself for what was to come. With the wetness pooling at your entrance from your squirt, he figured he wouldn't have a problem sliding in, but he wanted to make sure it'd be pleasurable for you.

Soonyoung plunged into you, immediately being welcomed with warmth, your walls hugging him and pulsating against his member as he nudged in further. His tip and little more only part way in, you clenched around him, sending a surge of pleasure through his body. 

“Fuck,” Soonyoung hissed as his hips stuttered, abruptly stopping. He lurched forward impulsively, quickly grabbing onto the seat to prevent himself from collapsing onto you. 

“More, Soonyoung, more!” you begged. 

“D-don’t do that,” Soonyoung chuckled. 

“Do what?” you asked innocently. Your walls fluttered around him again. 

“That!” he winced, letting out a deep breath. “I’m not going to last if you keep squeezing my dick.”

“Sorry,” you muttered. 

“I-it’s fine,” Soonyoung shook his head. “Just . . . try to relax okay?”

You nodded. You took a deep breath, your walls relaxing around him.

He cupped your cheek, you instantly leaned into his touch. “I’m going all in.”

Soonyoung bottomed out, his tip nudging at your cervix. Your arms came up to hook under his shoulders for support, the sensation simultaneously painful, yet pleasurable. You could feel the ridges and valleys of his members, the veins of his dick pulsating violently inside you. He was so warm inside of you and he hadn’t even cummed yet. Had you known he’d feel this good raw, you would’ve tried this sooner. 

“C-can I move?” Soonyoung stammered, “Nnnhhhnnggghh.”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice equally strained. 

Using the head of the seat as support, Soonyoung slowly started pulling out of you. His smooth flesh dragged slowly along walls, the ticklish sensation intoxicating. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down his back like his dick inside of you.

Pushing himself back in, Soonyoung curled into your neck, peppering wet kisses along the column of your throat. You tilted your head to give him better access, his lips finally latching on the sensitive spot behind your ear. 

Soonyoung started to establish his usual rhythm, his rips gyrating as he listlessly pumped inside of you. The sounds of your slick mixing together littered the air like an addicting beat. You were thirsty for his dick; not wanting to be disconnected from him for too long, you found yourself meeting him halfway. Your clit rammed violently against his pubic bone, sending an electric jolt to your stomach each time. 

Typically when the two of you had sex, it was Soonyoung who entertained you. You'd let him fuck you into depths of the bed and he'd make you cum first. You were feeling adventurous today, however, wanting to turn the tables.

Hooking your legs around his thighs and a hand on his chest, you pushed him back and sat up in his lap in one swoop. His dick still stiff inside you, Soonyoung sat back willingly, his hands flying up to hold you steady. You pressed your boobs against his chest, nearly pooling at his neck. You slowly peeled your jacket off your shoulders, revealing the white bandeau you wore underneath that he loved so much.

"W-what are you-"

"Let me ride you," you told him.

And you weren't taking no for an answer. 

Delicately placing your hands on his shoulders, you raised your ass to sink down on him.

This angle certainly offering you a new kind of pleasure - sharper and deeper, as if he would split you open.

Despite you doing most of the work, Soonyoung guided your hips, his hand squeezing your waist and occasionally pushing you back and forth on his dick. 

Your hands slid up his neck to cup his chin, allowing yourself for once to look into his eyes during these sacred moments. Your breath hitched, a lump forming in your throat. Honey dripping from his dark eye, his pupils blown wide as if he was drunk.

And truthfully, he was. 

Kwon Soonyoung was drunk on you (and your pussy).

Soonyoung slammed you downed against him, not letting you move any further. You didn't have to ask to know what was coming, the way he pressed his lips together, his eyes rolling back. 

You stayed still as his cum covered your walls, your own high quick to follow the longer to stayed wrapped around him. Collapsing into his chest, your pussy tightened around him, milking out every last drop.

The two of you stayed like this a while longer, your head tucked into his chest, Soonyoung’s arms coming to wrap around you. His phallus softened inside of you, but not quite ready to lose the bliss of him inside you yet. 

. . . . 

“You conveniently have a towel in your car?” you asked as Soonyoung cleaned off your folds. 

“Open wider,” he ignored your question and folded the wash cloth in half, flicking your thigh. You obliged, granting him better access. You winced as the terry material rubbed roughly between your folds. 

“Do you end up fucking all those girls in your car too?” you pulled your knees together, clamping your hands in between after he finished. 

Soonyoung’s expression immediately fell at your words, his jaw clenched as he let his hand drop to his side. "Do you really think I see other women besides you right now?" 

He didn't wait for you to reply. One hard stare at you, he left the side door of the SUV and made his way to the trunk. You frowned at his reaction. He used to always tease back when you joked about him fucking other women. 

Soonyoung tossed the washcloth haphazardly next to the duffel bag, making a mental note to replace it when he got home. Slamming the door the trunk shut. His hand lingered on the door handle. He planted his forehead against them, contemplating his situation right now.

“We’re not going back into –”

“You really think they waited three hours for us to finish fucking?” Soonyoung replied harshly. 

You clamped your mouth shut, drawing your lips in between your teeth. Tugging at the hem of your skirt, you got up from the backseat and made your way around the front to avoid him to the get to the passenger seat. 

Fastening the seatbelt across your torso, you heard him clamber into the driver’s seat, harshly slamming the door. 

“Soonyoung –”

“Can I be honest with you?” Soonyoung cut you off. His eyes were trained out the front window, however. 

“Course,” you mumbled. The space between your brows dipped in confusion at his sudden change in demeanor. After sex, he had grown quiet, which is unusual of him – he was usually playful, doting and teasing you. However, you didn’t think too much of it, post-nut clarity hitting you pretty quickly, realizing you left all your friends, including Wonwoo, behind in the amusement park to fuck in the parking lot. How were you going to explain your disappearance other than the truth?

"Don't go back to Wonwoo," he deadpanned.

"What?" you frowned, "Soonyoung, I live with him, I just can't -"

"He doesn't even look at you the same!" Soonyoung blurted.

“What are you trying to get at?” 

Finally, he looked up at you, a bittersweet smile quivering on his lips. “You look at Wonwoo with so, so, so much fucking love it hurts, Y/N – like he’s your whole world; your beginning, middle, and end.”

You paused, heart starting to pound against your ribcage as you tried to strady your breathing. You had an inkling there was a lot more to this than just yours and Wonwoo's phydical existence together 

“Soonyoung, you know how I feel about him," you started slowly.

“Why do you wait around for him? Let him step all over your heart like that? It hurts me too, you know. Makes me so fucking angry.”

"That's none of your business, Soonyoung."

"But it is, isn't? He's thr reason why we started this," his finger waving between the two of you, "in the first place. You wanted to 'get over him.' So why aren't you?"

You diverted your gaze from him, opting to look out the window instead, seas of cars pooling in front of you. Soonyoung had parked at the far end of the parking lot, only the needle of the space tower visible from here.

Soonyoung sucked in a sharp breath, his voice growing quier. “Have you ever considered being with someone other than Wonwoo? “Do you think anyone can change it?” Soonyoung pressed on. “Make you so fucking in love with them, you’ll forget him?”

"W-why do you ask?" you muttered.

"I need to know."

Your heart sank, dreading the very words you hoped would never fall from his lips. 

"I'm in love-"

You whipped around and placed a hand over his lips to stop him from confessing further. You were hyperventilating, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Kwon Soonyoung, we agreed no feelings,” you tried to remind him. 

Wrapping a hand around your wrist, he tugged your seal from his lips though you weren’t really trying to keep it on. 

Soonyoung chortled bitterly. “I broke that rule a long time ago, baby.” 

Plugging in his key, he twisted it, the engine roaring. Either hands gripping the wheel, he dipped his head into his chest, “Let’s stop here, Y/N – before we hurt each other even more.”

. . . .

It felt like the memory was burned behind his eyelids, sadistically forcing Wonwoo to watch it over and over again.

Soonyoung's body wrapped around yours. The way he gingerly took your hand and led you away. The look of guilt across your face when you looked back at Wonwoo as the two of you rounded the corner.

He took off his glasses, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes trying to rub off the images. Yet, they kept replaying. He didn't want to believe it, but Hyejin was right.

Soonyoung was fucking you behind his back.

The click of the door of your shared apartment caught Wonwoo’s attention. He threw a look over his shoulder, relieved, but fury already boiling, to find you leaning against the door your hands still tight on the handle.

"Where were you?" Wonwoo asked, his voice stern and hard. It was a tone you've never heard him use before. 

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The legs of his metal chair scraped across the wooden floor as he stood up. Afraid to look at him, you trained your eyes on the "Welcome" mat, the smiley face next to it seeming as if it was mocking you. His footsteps fell heavily and agonizingly slow in your direction, though each thump matching the beat of your pounding heart. His sock-covered feet stopped a few feet in front of you, the hem of his gray sweatpants swaying at his ankles. 

"Were you with him?" Wonwoo asked, his voice strained compared to before. If you didn't know him better, you wouldn't have guessed he was upset. But from the slight shake and the bob of his Adam's apple, you knew better that he was holding himself together the best he could until he exploded.

"Soonyoung," Wonwoo spat out, the taste of the man's name on his tongue bitter. "Were you with him?"

Your prolonged silence was enough to tell him the truth, but Wonwoo wanted to hear it. Until it came from your mouth, he refused to believe otherwise.

"Y/L/N Y/N!" 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trembling at his raised voices. You had to fears about Wonwoo hitting you - even if he was upset, he never would. Seldom did he get angry, and when he did, he was intimidating and you didn't know how to handle itm

"Fucking hell-"

Your peered up at him cautiously. "And if I was?"

Frustrated, Wonwoo ran a hand over his face. "He's just using you, Y/N, he doesn't love you."

His words pierced through your heart, twisting inside of you, knowing well he was wrong. But did you feel the same?

"It's not like I'm looking for love from him, Wonwoo," you opted to reply instead.

"Then why are you doing this? You know better than anyone how much I don't like him and why."

You scoffed at his selfishness. Soonyoung was right about one thing: He was so oblivious to it all. "When did my sex life involve you?"

"Y/N that's not the point."

"I don't need your permission to fuck anyone."

"Stop being stubborn!"

Shaking your head, you pushed yourself off the door and tried to walk around him with no avail.

"We're not done," Wonwoo said sternly. 

You pressed your lips in a tight line, side glancing at him, irritated. Roughly, you jerked your shoulder forward to shove him off, taking two steps back.

"How long?" Wonwoo deadpanned.

"February - Valentine’s Day," you replied, equally monotonous.

Wonwoo clenched his jaw. "Why?"

The silence that ensued was suffocating. Crossing your arms over your chest, shifted your weight onto your right hip and stared at him harshly, carefully scanning over his face for any signs of despair. He wouldn't be asking you all these questions if he didn't have some sort of inkling of feeling towards you, right?

Yet, you were only met with his stoic glare, piercing through his spectacles. Anger graced his face.

All this time, did he really not know how much you piped over him?

Did he really not know how much you loved him?

How long were you willing to wait for him?

It was now your turn to be upset. Anger clouding your judgment, you blurted the truth.

"You - it was because of you."

Wonwoo’s expression softened, his brows knitting in confusion. "W-what -"

You laughed bitterly. "Soonyoung was right," shaking your head, you continued, "Did you not see at all? Or did you just never consider the fact that I could be in love with you?"

Your words rang through his ear.

"Y-you had feelings for me," he said flatly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The gesture suddenly wasn't so cute anymore.

"More than you'd ever know," you said softly. 

He nodded, slowly trying to process this information. It was as if a semi-truck rammed into his lanky body and he was stuck, unable to move. 

"I would've waited forever for you, Wonwoo," you pressed on when he didn't reply. "But now?" You shook your head. "You never loved me anyways."

That snapped a cord in him.

"Don't you dare say I never loved you," Wonwoo spat, taking another few steps towards you.

"It’s not the same, Wonwoo," you choked, your voice starting to waver.  You shook your head, wiping your eyes with the heels of your palm, "I've watched you for so long, girl after girl, wondering when you would finally wake up and see me too. Waiting for my turn. I figured if I waited long enough, perhaps I could be the last . . . Yours forever."

Yours forever. 

His forever.

Wonwoo's forever. 

He let the words sink, turning them over in his mind like a sandstone in his hand. For Wonwoo, it was a given that you’d be by his side forever. No one understood him better than you – you were his best friend. You knew what he needed when he was sorrowful. Rather than overwhelming him with happiness, you knew to keep your distance, reminding him of your constant support with small touches and gentle smiles from across the room. When he was angry, you knew to take him to karaoke so he could scream Yoon Do Hyun’s “It Must Have Been Love” to his heart's content. 

The possibility of being more never vividly occurred to him until now. Was it perhaps the reason why his past relationships never worked out? Why did he never feel satisfied with anyone else?

Could it really be because he was searching for you in someone else, when you were right beside him all along?

Wonwoo walked towards you slowly. Two steps forward for him was two steps back for you until your back met the door. Gingerly, he took your elbows and tugged you towards him, his other hand coming up to rest on your waist. Licking his lips, Wonwoo nervously raised his hand to caress your face, his thumb teasing at your chin like he did last night. He tilted your head up, forcing you to look at him, your eyes swollen and rimmed with tears that dripped down your cheek like diamonds rolling down the table. With the pads of his thumb, he wiped away a tear forming from the duct of your eyes. Remorse bubbling in his chest knowing he was the cause of all this pain. 

He tilted forward, gently resting his forehead against yours as he continued to stroke your smooth skin.

 "Did it not ever occur to you,” Wonwoo asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “that you could’ve asked me instead of Soonyoung?”

His question shattered the silence and tension like a rock to a glass window.