for anybody that sends me char x char requests they may take a bit longer to get done since i have written anything other than x reader since like 2022 soo i gotta get used to it again
night has come has a great concept. it's fascinating, but i think after spending an hour on the tag, i can totally understand why so many people dislike it's ending. it's a very revenge based plot and there was little to no foreshadowing about park sehun which is strange. its a good thing they aren't actually dead but the ending is still awful and also.. how tf does it work????? where are these kid's parents??? i think if they had switched up the ending, it could've been better
requested by: @viktorisong the actual one disappeared for some reason
Jun and reader just got married, and now they're in (insert a randon location) for their honeymoon. And they actually just end up having a movie night as a married couple:3 it's very cute & fluffy hehe Then reader ends up riding junhui in the middle of the movie night😈
synopsis: it's your first night at the honeymoon villa in italy. what starts as a quiet movie night on the couch quickly turns into something more when neither of you can focus on anything except each other.
pairing: jun x reader
warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, married couple, smut, piv, pwp (?), jun is lowk a service top, the slightest ever dirty talk, couch sex, slice of life
a/n: IM GLAD U LOVE MY THEMEE also jun love is so real hes gen so underrated theres like no fics of him 💔 this isnt proof-read so i apologize in advanced for any mistakes or if this is a bit cringe.. i suck at writing fluff..
the villa was perfect.
jun had picked it out months ago, showed you pictures on his phone with this proud smile. tucked away on some quiet coast in italy, all white stone and blue shutters, close enough to the beach that you could hear waves if you opened the windows.
you'd spent the day exploring. walked through the narrow streets of the nearby town, ate gelato that melted faster than you could lick it, took pictures that would sit in your phone forever, probably never deleted.
now you were back at the villa, both sprawled on the massive couch in the living room. the sun had set an hour ago, and the space was lit by soft yellow lamps and the glow of the tv screen.
"this is nice," jun said, head tilted back against the cushions.
"yeah." you were curled into his side, his arm around your shoulders. "we should do this more."
"what, watch movies?"
"just... be still. together."
he smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "we're married now. we can do this whenever we want."
married.
the word felt strange on your tongue. new. you'd said vows yesterday—stood in front of everyone you loved and promised forever to each other. danced until your feet hurt. cut cake. laughed until you cried. he'd said his vows first. stumbled over a word, laughed nervously, then looked at you like you were the only person in the room. said he'd loved you since the first time you'd argued with him about something stupid—he couldn't even remember what. Said he wanted every argument, every laugh, every quiet morning for the rest of his life.
you'd cried—you tried not to, but failed completely.
and now you were here. married. to jun.
"what do you want to watch?" he asked, scrolling through netflix with the remote.
"i don't know. something easy."
"rom-com?"
"sure."
he picked something—you didn't even catch the title. it didn't really matter. you weren't actually planning to pay attention.
jun hit play and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. on screen, some actor you vaguely recognized was running through an airport.
"classic," jun muttered.
"you picked it."
"i know. i have excellent taste."
you laughed, settling deeper into his side. he was warm, solid. his fingers traced absent patterns on your arm.
the movie played. you watched without really watching. your brain was too full of other things—the weight of the ring on your finger, the sound of jun's breathing, the fact that this was your life now. married to him. waking up next to him every day. building something permanent.
"you okay?" jun asked quietly.
you looked up at him. "yeah. why?"
"you're quiet."
"just thinking."
"about what?"
"us. this. how weird it is that we're married now."
his expression softened. "good weird?"
"the best weird."
jun's hand moved to cup your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone. "i keep thinking I'm going to wake up and this'll all be a dream.”
"i'm real," you interrupted softly.
"i know. but sometimes i can't believe you picked me. that you said yes. that you're here."
your throat tightened. "jun—"
"i'm serious. i spent so long thinking i'd fuck this up somehow. that I'd say the wrong thing or be too much or not enough. and you married me anyway."
"you're an idiot," you said, but your voice cracked.
he kissed you then, slow and sweet. like he was trying to memorize the taste of you, the shape of your mouth against his.
when he pulled back, you were both smiling.
"i love you," he said.
"i love you too."
you stayed like that for a while, just looking at each other. the movie kept playing in the background, dialogue you weren't listening to.
jun's hand slid from your face to your neck, thumb tracing your collarbone. his eyes followed the movement, dark and focused.
"jun."
"mm?"
"the movie."
"what about it?"
"you're not watching."
"neither are you."
fair point.
his hand moved lower, fingers trailing down your arm to rest on your hip. the touch was light, almost absent-minded, but your skin felt hot where he touched you.
"we should finish the movie," you said, even though you didn't mean it.
"we should," he agreed, not moving.
you shifted, turning to face him properly. his hand stayed on your hip, grip tightening slightly.
"or," you said slowly, "we could do something else."
his eyes met yours. there was a flicker of something there—heat, want, that look he got when he was trying to be patient but barely holding on.
"yeah?" his voice was rougher.
"yeah."
you moved before he could, swinging your leg over to straddle him. his hands went to your waist immediately, steadying you.
"hi," you said.
"hi." he was grinning now, that bright smile that made your chest ache.
you kissed him, deeper this time. his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. you could feel him already getting hard beneath you.
"we're supposed to be watching the movie," he murmured against your mouth.
"you want to stop?"
"absolutely not."
you laughed, grinding down against him. he groaned, head falling back against the couch.
"fuck," he breathed.
you kissed down his neck, feeling his pulse jump under your lips. his fingers dug into your hips, guiding your movements.
"wait," he said suddenly.
you pulled back. "what?"
"are you sure? we don't have to—"
"jun." you cupped his face. "i'm sure. i want this. i want you."
his expression softened. "okay. yeah. me too."
you kissed him again, slower this time. his hands slid under your shirt, warm against your skin.
you pulled back just enough to tug your shirt over your head. jun's eyes went dark, gaze trailing over you like he was trying to memorize every detail.
"you're so beautiful," he said quietly.
your face heated. "shut up."
"i'm serious."
"i know. that's why i'm telling you to shut up."
he laughed, pulling you back down to kiss you. his hands traced up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through your bra.
you reached back to unhook it, letting it fall away. jun made a sound low in his throat.
"can i—" he started.
"yes."
his mouth found your chest, tongue circling one nipple while his hand cupped the other. you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair.
he took his time, switching between both sides until you were squirming in his lap.
"jun," you whined.
"what do you need?"
"you. more."
he pulled back, breathing hard. "yeah. okay."
you climbed off him just long enough for both of you to strip off the rest of your clothes. when you straddled him again, skin to skin, you both moaned.
"god," jun breathed, hands on your hips. "you feel so good."
you reached between you to line him up, then sank down slowly. the stretch made you gasp, made your eyes flutter closed.
jun's fingers dug into your skin. "fuck. fuck, you're—"
you started moving, slow rolls of your hips. jun watched you with this dazed expression, like he couldn't believe this was real.
"you okay?" you asked.
"yeah. more than okay. you're perfect."
you picked up the pace, hands braced on his shoulders. jun met your movements, hips lifting to meet yours.
"that's it," he murmured. "just like that."
his hand slid between you, thumb finding your clit. you moaned, head falling back.
"look at me," jun said.
you did. his eyes were dark, intense, completely focused on you.
"i love you," he said.
"i love you too."
the coil in your stomach was tightening, heat building with every movement. jun could tell—he always could. his thumb moved faster, other hand guiding your hips.
"come for me," he said quietly. "want to feel you."
that did it. you came with a broken moan, clenching around him. jun groaned, hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge.
you collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard.
after a minute, jun's arms came around you, holding you close.
"so," you said eventually.
"so."
"we're definitely not finishing that movie."
he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "probably not."
you lifted your head to look at him. his hair was a mess, lips swollen, eyes bright.
"no regrets?" you asked.
"about the movie or the sex?"
"either. both."
"zero regrets." he kissed you softly. "best honeymoon ever."
you smiled against his mouth. "we've been here one day."
"and i'm already right."
you rolled your eyes but couldn't stop smiling.
later, you'd clean up. move to the bedroom. actually sleep.
but for now you stayed there, wrapped around each other on the couch, the forgotten movie still playing in the background.
they don't stop fighting—but somehow, every step keeps pulling them closer.
synopsis: you and minho fought often. being stuck to the same schedule despite everything that happened— the tension only grows and practices continue on—temporary truces, arguments, and a final warning from the rest of the group.
pairing: dancer minho x reader
warnings/tags: rivals to lovers, sub minho, roomates, bratty minho , smut, slow-ish burn, making out, they're both idiots, miscommunication, university au, piv, slight angst idk, alcohol, fluff
read chapter one here.
read chapter two here.
read chapter three here.
wc: 2.4k
a/n: im finally done with this omg. sorry this is last chapter is giving nothing but its finally out!! im freed from the shackles of this so ima try to post more often now!!! also huge ty to @actiniariaa for proofreading this
you stood backstage, stomach turning, running through counts.
this was it.
the retake.
one shot to fix everything and actually pass.
"let's run the transition one more time," felix said, moving into position.
you and minho nodded. your jaw was tight, nerves and frustration mixing into something uncomfortable in your chest. this had to be perfect. you couldn't give him anything else to criticize.
you moved through the choreography. everything was fine until right before the duet section.
minho stopped. "your timing's off."
you froze. "what?"
"that turn. you were late."
"i wasn't—"
"you were. i felt it."
your stomach twisted into knots, frustration and anxiety mixing a maelstrom of emotions.
"okay, i get it. this is the 3rd time you've pointed it out."
"you keep doing it," he shot back. "i'm not trying to mess up our last chance."
your voice was hard. "you think i don't know that? you think i don't hear you sigh every time i move?"
"don't flip this on me. i'm allowed to be stressed."
"and i'm allowed to do my own damn counts!"
"are you serious right now?" he stepped closer. "i thought we were past this."
your chest tightened. "i never said we weren't, but you're clearly trying to start something. i'm just trying to make sure we don't screw up again and you won't stop pointing out every little—"
"little?" he cut you off. "this is our final. we already failed once. there's no room for mistakes."
"i know that!"
felix moved between you. "guys. stop. not now."
"i'm just—" minho started.
"save it," you interrupted, turning away. "you know what? i'm done arguing over this shit."
"fine."
"fine."
silence.
you turned away, jaw clenched, trying to force down the anger bubbling in your throat. this wasn't the time. you could be pissed at him after. felix shifted uncomfortably and hyunjin cleared his throat. the tension was suffocating.
then the professor's voice echoed from the theater.
"whenever you're ready."
your stomach felt like it was trying to crawl up your throat. this was it. the retake. just you, your group, and the professor who'd already seen you fail once.
your hands were shaking. you tried to steady them, flexing your fingers, but it didn't help. this was supposed to be different from last time. you had practiced until your feet ached, running through the choreography in your head every night before sleep. and now you were fighting with minho again, minutes before stepping on stage.
the professor was watching.
waiting.
felix gave you a look that said get it together. hyunjin wouldn't meet your eyes. minho's jaw was set, mouth tight. he wasn't looking at you either.
then the music started.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────
the group section was clean. every transition hit.
felix and hyunjin were perfect.
felix's footwork was clean—every step sharp and deliberate. hyunjin moved like he wasn't even trying, all smooth transitions and easy confidence.
the rhythm carried you through each movement—the opening sequence, the formations, and the transitions.
then the duet.
you and minho moved into position. the music changed.
for a second you thought about the fight. about how nothing was resolved. about how you were supposed to dance together when you could barely look at each other.
but then his hand found yours and the fight didn't matter anymore. not right now. right now there was just the music and the steps you'd practiced a thousand times. you could be pissed at him after.
you moved together.
it wasn't perfect. there were rough spots, moments where you were slightly off. but you were together. every lift felt solid. every turn, he was there.
the anger came through in the choreography. the frustration. all the unresolved shit between you made every movement sharper.
you hit the turn you'd messed up before. minho's hands were steady, grip firm and sure. you landed it clean. relief flooded through you so fast it almost threw you off the next count. the sequence where he'd screwed up his footwork came. this time he nailed it—foot placement perfect, timing exact. part of you wanted to feel smug about it, but mostly you just felt relieved. you were both getting it right.
you hit the final pose, both breathing hard, his hand gripping yours. the music stopped.
silence.
you stood there, still holding on to him. slowly, you turned to look at him.
he was already looking at you.
neither of you smiled. but something passed between you—an understanding, maybe. or just the shared relief of not fucking it up twice. the acknowledgment that you'd both actually pulled it off when it mattered.
the professor stood up, walking toward the stage.
"much better than your first attempt," he said. "significant amount of improvement." the technique was solid and the chemistry was actually convincing this time."
he glanced between you and minho. "you'll get your official grades tomorrow, but i wanted to tell you now—you passed."
you felt dizzy with relief.
"thank you," felix said quickly. "thank you so much."
the professor nodded. "you're dismissed."
he walked out, leaving the four of you standing there in the empty theater.
"holy shit," hyunjin said, out of breath. "we actually passed."
felix laughed. "i thought we were fucked after last time."
"we need to celebrate," hyunjin said, pulling out his phone. "that bar near campus—"
"i need air," you said.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────
you took a deep breath, staring at the concrete outside.
you passed. it was over.
so why did you feel so empty?
the adrenaline was fading, leaving you hollow. you'd passed. that should've been enough. should've felt like relief, like victory, like something other than this weird emptiness sitting in your chest.
people walked by, laughing, talking about their own finals. someone shouted about drinks. the world kept moving like your entire semester hadn't just come down to one performance.
footsteps sounded behind you.
"hey."
you turned, bracing yourself for whatever look he'd give you—criticism, frustration, something. but when your eyes met his, there was nothing like that. just the same exhausted relief you felt.
minho.
"hey."
neither of you seemed to know what to say. the fight was still sitting there between you, unresolved and heavy.
"that was good," he said. "the performance."
"yeah."
you could hear traffic in the distance, voices from inside the building, but out here it was just the two of you standing in this strange space where nothing was resolved. not fighting, but not okay either.
"about before—" he started.
"not right now." you cut him off. "please."
he nodded. "okay."
you both just stood there.
"felix and hyunjin are going to that bar," minho said. "you coming?"
you hesitated before answering. "yeah," you said anyway. "sure."
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────
the bar was packed with students celebrating the end of finals. felix ordered shots immediately.
"to passing!" he announced.
"to passing," you all repeated.
the alcohol burned the back of your throat, but it helped. you ordered another. then another. minho sat across from you with his beer. your eyes met sometimes, but he would look away.
"okay i have to ask," hyunjin said, leaning forward. "are you guys together or not? you're both seriously confusing."
"hyunjin—" felix started.
"i'm serious! you're not talking, then you're talking, then making out in the practice room—"
"we weren't—" you started.
"i heard you," hyunjin interrupted. "walls are thin. so are you together or what?"
you and minho looked at each other.
"we're figuring it out," minho said.
"that's not an answer."
"it's all we have right now."
hyunjin opened his mouth but felix elbowed him. "leave them alone."
"i'm just saying it's getting pretty exhausting."
"hyunjin."
"fine." he held up his hands. "but you're both terrible at hiding it."
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────
by the time you left you were buzzed. not drunk, but close. felix and hyunjin headed to their place, leaving you and minho alone.
the walk back was quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind from before. you walked side by side this time, close enough that your hands almost brushed a few times. neither of you mentioned it.
"we should talk," minho said when you reached your building.
"yeah."
the elevator ride was silent. when you got to your floor you both went straight to the door.
minho unlocked it. you went inside.
the door closed and suddenly the apartment felt way too small. like there wasn't enough space for both of you and everything you needed to say.
"i'm sorry," you both said at once.
then minho laughed—he sounded surprised.
"i shouldn't have been on your ass so much," he said, rubbing his neck. "i was stressed and took it out on you."
"i was stressed too." you sat on the couch. he sat next to you—close but not touching. "i felt like nothing i did was right."
"that's not—" he turned to face you. "i was scared we'd fuck it up again. that i'd fuck it up. so i tried to control everything."
"you can't control everything."
"i know." he let out a breath. "i'm still bad at this."
"me too."
you sat there. the tension from earlier was melting away slowly.
"we passed though," you said.
"yeah."
"so we can stop fighting about dance."
his mouth twitched as if he was holding back a smile. "we'll probably still fight."
"yeah." you smiled a little. "but about normal stuff."
"like what?"
"i don't know. normal couple stuff."
the word sat there between you.
"couple," minho repeated.
your face flushed. "i didn't—"
"is that what you want?" he cut you off. "to be a couple?"
you looked at him. at the way he was watching you—careful and unsure.
"i don't know," you admitted. "i've never done this for real."
"me neither."
"so we're clueless."
"pretty much."
you moved closer, watching his face for any sign he'd pull away. you needed to know if he wanted this as much as you did. "we could try though."
"you already said that."
"it worked before."
he smiled for real this time.
"yeah," he said quietly. "it did."
he leaned in. you met him halfway. the kiss was slower this time. less desperate.
when you pulled back you were both smiling.
you kissed him again, deeper this time. his hands found your waist, gripping tight.
you shifted closer until you were practically in his lap.
"wait—" he breathed against your mouth. "should we—"
"shut up," you murmured, pushing him back against the couch.
he went willingly, eyes wide, breath coming faster. you straddled him, feeling him already half-hard beneath you.
"oh," he gasped when you rolled your hips.
you kissed down his jaw, his neck, feeling him shiver. his hands hovered at your waist.
"touch me," you said against his skin.
his grip tightened immediately, fingers digging in. you pulled back to look at him—his face was already flushed, lips parted, eyes dark.
"you good?" you asked.
"yeah. yeah, i'm—" he cut off when you ground down against him. "fuck."
you tugged at his shirt and he helped you pull it off. then yours. his hands traced up your sides, gentle.
"can i—" he started.
"you don't have to ask for everything," you said, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to.
"i know. i just—" he looked up at you, vulnerable. "i want to do this right."
you kissed him, slow and deep. "you're doing fine."
his hands slid up your back as you kissed, then fumbled with the clasp of your bra. when he finally got it off, he pulled back to look at you, and the expression on his face made heat pool in your stomach.
"stop staring," you said.
"can't help it." his voice was rough. "you're—"
you kissed him before he could finish, grinding down against him harder. he moaned into your mouth, hips jerking up.
"impatient?" you teased.
"you're—" he gasped when you did it again. "you're doing that on purpose."
"maybe."
you reached between you to palm him through his jeans. he made a choked sound, head falling back against the couch.
"god," he whined.
"what?"
"you feel so—i can't—" he couldn't finish the sentence.
you undid his jeans, helping him lift his hips to push them down along with his boxers. he kicked them off the rest of the way, then watched as you stood to take off yours.
when you straddled him again, skin to skin, he groaned.
"is this okay?" you asked, positioned over him.
"yeah. yes. don't stop—"
you sank down slowly, watching his face. his mouth fell open, eyes squeezing shut, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.
"look at me," you said.
he opened his eyes, and the way he looked at you—desperate and overwhelmed—made you clench around him. he groaned.
"you feel so good," he managed, voice wrecked. "i can't—"
you started moving, slow at first, finding a rhythm. his hips moved to meet yours, desperate and uncoordinated.
"let me—" he tried.
"let me do this," you said, pushing his hands up to rest on the back of the couch. "just feel it."
he nodded, looking up at you with wide eyes. you rode him slowly, torturously, watching him fall apart beneath you.
"please," he gasped. "please, i need—"
"what do you need?"
"faster. something. i don't know, just—please—"
you leaned down to kiss him, swallowing his moan as you picked up the pace. his hands came down to grip your hips again, holding on.
"that's it," you murmured against his mouth.
he made a broken sound, hips jerking up to meet yours. you could feel him getting close—tensing, desperate sounds falling from his lips.
"i'm—" he gasped.
"go ahead," you said, reaching between you to touch yourself.
he came with a breathy moan, hips stuttering, fingers digging into your skin. the feeling of him pulsing inside you, the wrecked look on his face, pushed you over the edge too.
you collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard.
after a minute, his arms came around you, holding you close.
"so," you said eventually.
"so."
"we're doing this."
"yeah."
you lifted your head to look at him. "are you scared?"
"yeah."
"me too."
he kissed your forehead. "we'll figure it out though."
"together?"
"together."
you stayed like that for a while, wrapped around each other on the couch. eventually you'd have to move, clean up, actually talk about what this meant.
but right now this was enough.
"hey," minho said quietly.
"mm?"
"i'm glad we didn't fuck it up."
you smiled against his skin. "me too."
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────
a/n: im so bad at writing fluff forgive me if its cringe..
once i finish still arguing be prepared for me spamming short fics…this has been holding me back for so long since i dont wanna butcher the ending
also i lowk might do a theme change
alsoo for all my moots im sososo sorry i havent been interacting i havent been on tumblr for a while since ive been so freakin busy i promise ill be more active after this week 🥹
they don't stop fighting—but somehow, every step keeps pulling them closer.
synopsis: you and minho fought often. being stuck to the same schedule despite everything that happened— the tension only grows and practices continue on—temporary truces, arguments, and a final warning from the rest of the group.
pairing: dancer minho x reader
warnings/tags: rivals to lovers, roomates, bratty minho, smut (previous chapter), making out, they're both idiots, miscommunication, university au, both minho and reader's pov in this chapter, slight angst idk
read chapter one here.
read chapter two here.
read chapter four here.
wc: 2.9k
a/n: sorry this took so long, i've been busy with school and i had no idea what to write for a while but chapter 3 is finally here !!!
(minhos pov)
minho hadn't slept properly in days.
he kept replaying it. your hands in his hair. the way you looked at him, how your skin felt under his fingers.
every time he closed his eyes, there it was again.
this was supposed to be simple. you hooked up once. it was a mistake—heat of the moment, it shouldn't have meant anything. you both said you'd forget about it.
so why couldn't he?
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────
leaving early had become his new routine.
minho would leave before his alarm even went off, get back late, and even wait in the stairwell until he heard your door close. texting was the only way you’d communicate.
it should've made things easier.
it didn't.
every sound you made, he noticed. your door opening. the shower running. your footsteps in the kitchen. he’d catch himself listening, then get pissed for caring.
you were just his roommate. his dance partner.
that's it.
he really tried to believe that.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────
practice was torture. he had to pretend everything was normal.
before, the tension with you was fun in a weird way—all the arguing and the stares seeing who could push harder. now he just felt like he was going through the motions. you were technically perfect, hitting every beat, but you wouldn't even look at him.
and that pissed him off more than any argument he ever had with you.
he caught himself staring during water breaks. watching you laugh at hyunjin's jokes, how you stretched between runs, your face when you were concentrating.
normal things he'd seen a million times. he couldn't ignore them anymore.
"you good?" felix asked, following his gaze.
minho looked away, "yeah. i'm fine."
"you sure? you seem kinda—"
"i'm fine." minho cut him off, drinking from his water bottle, "just focused."
felix looked skeptical but dropped it.
across the room, hyunjin pulled you aside. minho watched you shake your head, brush it off, and something twisted in his stomach.
nothing was fine.
he paced in his room that night like he'd lost his mind.
this was so stupid. He was being stupid.
you were just—you. annoying and stubborn and way too good at calling him out. that's all you'd ever been. hooking up once didn't change anything. It shouldn't.
but it did.
now when you argued with him, he didn't just want to argue back. he wanted to shut you up by kissing you. when you nailed a move in practice, he didn't just feel competitive—he felt proud. when you avoided looking at him, it didn't make him angry.
it just hurt.
minho sat on his bed and put his head in his hands.
he liked you.
not in the competitive way he'd been telling himself was normal. actually liked you. wanted to hear what you thought about random shit. wanted to make you laugh on purpose instead of by accident. wanted to wake up next to you and not pretend it never happened.
he'd never felt like this about anyone. he had no idea what to do with it.
he tried talking to you. multiple times.
he'd hear you in the kitchen and force himself to go out there. but then he'd see you and completely blank. he'd say "hey," grab whatever, and run back to his room.
every single time.
he kept telling himself to talk to you, it wasn't that hard.
except it was.
what if you really did want to forget it? what if he said something and made everything worse? what if you looked at him like he was crazy and the rest of the semester became completely unbearable?
he couldn't stop thinking about all the ways it could go wrong.
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the next day, felix and hyunjin worked on their part, then left you and Minho alone to run the duet.
Minho's stomach dropped.
the music started. the opening was fine—his body knew what to do. for a few seconds, everything felt normal.
then the lift.
his hands found your waist automatically. he'd done this a hundred times.
and then you looked at him.
he froze.
he forgot the next move. forgot the music was still playing. forgot where he was. all he could see was you—how close you were, the look in your eyes, your lips parting.
"you're supposed to turn me," you said quietly.
oh. right.
"right. yeah."
he turned you, set you down carefully. his hands stayed on your waist before he made himself let go and stepped back.
you both finished the routine but minho could still feel where he'd touched you.
this was getting bad.
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when practice ended, felix and Hyunjin left. minho watched you pack up your stuff, watched you head for the door.
he couldn't let you leave again. not without at least trying to—
"you coming?" you asked.
now. just say something.
"in a minute," he said. "i want to run through something."
you stopped. his heart jumped.
please don't go.
"want help?"
yes.
“no, i—"
just fucking say it.
he stopped. took a breath. actually looked at you.
"actually, can we talk?"
you looked surprised, then careful "okay."
you dropped your bag and walked towards him, keeping your distance.
minho stared at the floor. how did he even start this?
"i've been thinking about what you said," he started. "about forgetting it happened."
you tensed.
"yeah?"
"i can't." once he started he couldn't stop, "i tried. i really fucking tried."
"minho—"
"and it's driving me crazy because i don't—i've never...i don't know how to do this. whatever this is."
"i'm not following," you said.
he made himself look at you.
"i can't stop thinking about you. and i don't mean just... that. i mean you."
your face changed but he couldn't read it.
"'the way you call me out on my shit. how you push back. how you—” he stopped, frustrated.
"i like you. and i don't know what to do with that."
silence.
"you... like me?"
"apparently." he laughed. "which is really inconvenient."
"inconvenient?"
"well yeah. you're you. i'm me. we argue about everything."
you almost smiled. "argued. past tense."
"we haven't argued because i've been avoiding you."
"i noticed."
"did you also notice i've been going insane trying to act normal around you?"
you moved closer. sat down next to him. close enough that he could feel the warmth coming off you.
"kind of, yeah."
his chest felt tight.
"for what it's worth," you said, "i haven't been able to forget it either."
wait. what?
"i just thought... you wanted to. so I was trying to respect that." he reluctantly responded.
"i only said that because i thought that was what you wanted."
all the avoiding, all the careful distance—you'd both just been—
"we're idiots," you said.
"yeah." minho let out a sigh. "Fuck."
you both sat there.
"so... what now?" you asked.
minho had no idea."i don't know."
"okay."
"i've never—" he stopped. "i don't really know how to do this."
"do what?"
"any of this." he gestured vaguely between you. "i'm not good at... whatever this is supposed to be."
you were quiet for a second. "yeah. me neither."
"we should probably get out of here," you said, standing up and grabbing your bag. "it's late."
minho got up too, his legs stiff from sitting on the floor. the walk back to the dorm was quiet, but not the bad kind of quiet from before. just... quiet.
when you got back, you both stood in the living room.
"so," you said.
"so."
"i'm gonna go to bed."
"yeah. me too."
you shifted your bag on your shoulder. "i should—yeah. sleep."
"yeah."
silence.
"this is still weird," you said.
"i know."
you nodded, then started toward your room. minho watched you go, his hands shoved in his pockets.
you stopped at your door, hand on the handle. "hey."
he looked up.
"i'm glad you said something."
before he could respond, you slipped into your room and closed the door.
he didn't know what tomorrow would look like. but you weren't avoiding each other anymore.
that was something.
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(readers pov)
every time you closed your eyes, you replayed the conversation.
minho saying he liked you. his voice cracking when he admitted he didn't know what to do with it.
you rolled over and stared at the wall.
this was real. this was actually happening.
and in two days, you'd have to perform. the retake. the one chance to fix everything and not let the entire group fail because you and minho couldn't get your shit together.
except now you had other things to figure out.
you groaned into your pillow.
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morning came too fast.
you could hear minho moving around in the kitchen when you finally dragged yourself out of bed. for a second, you considered waiting until he left.
but that's not what you were doing anymore.
you took a breath and opened your door.
minho was making coffee, his back to you. he turned when he heard you come in, and you both just… stood there.
"hey," he said.
"hey."
he looked tired. there were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was messier than usual.
"coffee?" he offered, holding up the pot.
"yeah. Thanks."
he poured you a cup and slid it across the counter. your fingers brushed when you took it, and you both pretended not to notice.
"we have practice in an hour," you said, because someone had to say something.
"yeah." He leaned against the counter. "are you nervous?"
"a little bit. you?"
"a little bit."
the silence wasn't uncomfortable exactly, just new.
"it's gonna be fine," minho said, looking at you. "we still have today to get it perfect."
"i know."
"so don't overthink it."
you drank your coffee, and he drank his. it felt almost normal.
"i should get ready," you said eventually.
"yeah. Me too."
you rinsed your cup in the sink, very aware of how close he was standing.
when you turned around, he was right there.
"we're good, right?" he asked quietly.
"we're good."
he nodded, looking relieved. "okay. good."
you went back to your room to get dressed, and when you came out, minho was already waiting by the door with both your bags.
the walk to campus felt different. minho walked next to you instead of ahead or behind, and you kept catching him glancing over at you.
"what?" you asked the third time you caught him.
"nothing." but he was almost smiling.
"you're being weird."
"i'm not being weird."
"you keep looking at me."
"so? you're looking at me too."
you didn't really have time to argue.
by the time you got to the building, your hands were sweaty. not just about practice, but about everything.
about how felix and hyunjin were definitely going to notice.
felix and hyunjin were already in the practice room, stretching and warming up.
"there you are," felix said, looking between you and minho. "everything good?"
"yeah," you both said at the same time.
hyunjin's eyes narrowed. "okay, that was suspicious."
"we're fine," minho said, dropping his bag and starting to stretch.
you joined them on the floor, going through your usual warm-up routine.
everything felt normal—stretching, complaining about how sore you were,
felix talking about something that happened in his other class.
"alright," felix said after a while. "let’s run through the whole thing. we have two days, but I want to make sure we're solid."
the music started, and you fell into formation.
the group sections went smoothly. everyone hit their marks, the transitions were clean. then it was time for the duet.
you and minho moved into position, and for a split second, you made eye contact.
the music shifted, and you started dancing.
it was different this time. not just technically good, but real.
every movement felt connected, like you were actually dancing with him instead of just next to him. when he lifted you, his hands were steady and sure. when you landed, you trusted he'd be there.
the chemistry that had been missing for days was back, but it wasn't the angry, competitive energy from before. it was something else. something that made your chest feel tight and your heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with the choreography.
you finished the final pose, breathing hard, his hand still holding yours.
the music stopped.
felix and hyunjin were staring.
"holy shit," hyunjin said.
"what did you guys do?" felix asked, looking genuinely confused. "that was—that was actually incredible."
"we just practiced," minho said, letting go of your hand slowly.
"that wasn't just practice," hyunjin said, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "that was like— actual chemistry. did you guys have sex or something?"
your face went hot. "what? No—"
"i’m just saying!" hyunjin held up his hands, "the energy is completely different. you guys went from not looking at each other to... that." he gestured at both of you.
"we just talked," you said quickly. "that's all."
"talked." hyunjin repeated.
"yes. talked." minho's ears were red. "can we move on?"
felix looked between you both. "right. yeah. whatever works." he cleared his throat. "just— keep doing it. that was actually really good."
"thank you," you and minho said at the same time, which made hyunjin grin.
"adorable," hyunjin muttered.
"shut up," minho said.
"let’s run it one more time," felix suggested quickly. "just to make sure."
the second run was just as good. by the end of practice, felix looked relieved and hyunjin had mostly stopped making comments.
"okay," felix said as you all packed up. "we’re meeting up at six tomorrow. don’t be late."
you grabbed your stuff as you headed out.
"that was awkward," you muttered once felix and hyunjin were out of sight.
"yeah."
"hyunjin’s never gonna let it go."
the walk back to the dorm was quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind from before. you kept stealing glances at each other, and every time your hands brushed, neither of you pulled away.
minho unlocked the door and you both stepped inside. he dropped his bag by the couch, and you did the same. you just stood there in the middle of the living room.
"so," you said.
"so."
he was looking at you in that way again—the way that made your heart race.
"we should probably rest," you sighed, even though you didn't move. "big day tomorrow."
"Yeah." He took a step closer, "Probably should."
but he didn't move toward his room either.
the space between you felt electric. you could feel your pulse in your throat.
"minho—"
he closed the distance, hand cupping your face.
you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer to kiss him.
he made a soft sound against your mouth. his hands found your waist, gripping tight.
this wasn't like the first time—all anger and frustration. this was slower, deeper. you backed him up until he hit the wall, and his breath hitched.
"oh," he breathed out when you pulled back slightly.
you kissed along his jaw, down his neck, and felt him shiver. his fingers tightened on your hips.
"wait—" his voice came out shaky. "we shouldn't—"
you pulled back to look at him. his lips were already swollen, face flushed, eyes dark.
"shouldn’t what?"
"do anything the day before a competition," he managed, though his hands hadn't let go of you
you raised an eyebrow.
"it'll mess with our energy. performance stamina.” he was rambling. "we should probably—"
you kissed him again, swallowing whatever he was about to say. he pressed against the wall, head falling back when you bit down gently on his bottom lip
"you were saying?" you murmured against his mouth.
"i—fuck—" his breath was uneven. "we really shouldn't."
"okay." You pulled back and he whined. "we'll stop."
"yeah. we should stop." but his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer again.
"minho."
"i know, i know." he kissed you anyway, soft and desperate. "just—one more minute."
one minute turned into five, then ten. you were fully making out against the wall now, his hands in your hair, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. Every time one of you tried to pull away, the other would chase after them.
"okay," you said, breathless, finally stepping back. "we really need to stop."
Minho nodded, chest rising and falling rapidly. his hair was a mess from your fingers, lips red and swollen. "yeah. performance tomorrow."
"right. performance."
you both stared at each other.
"i should go to my room," he said, not moving.
"probably a good idea."
he pushed off the wall, took two steps toward his room, then turned back.
"one more?"
you rolled your eyes but you were already moving toward him. "you have no self-control."
"says the person who pushed me against the wall."
"you liked it."
“didn’t say I didn't,” he pulled you in and kissed you.
when you finally broke apart, he looked dazed. you smiled sheepishly at the look on his face.
"you good there?"
"shut up," he muttered. "okay. I'm actually going now."
"sure you are."
"i am!" he backed toward his room, nearly tripping over his bag. "stop looking at me like that."
"like what?"
"like—you know what. just stop."
you grinned. "good night, minho."
"yeah, yeah. night." he paused at his door. "try not to dream about me."
"oh my god, get out of here."
he laughed and disappeared into his room. you heard the door close, then a thud— like he'd fallen onto his bed.
tomorrow was going to be interesting.
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read chapter four here.
a/n: surely chapter 4 will come out quicker.....surely....
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