[mnginlov]

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liv. 25. they/them. in lov with mingi.

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that's my favorite part when they lose it for

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

previously known as jnginlov

© mnginlov. do not repost, translate, or copy my works.

[borathae]

“Yoongi dresses up as your favourite character as a sexy, little surprise. He is not ready however for just how good he will get you with it. Not that he is complaining.”

Pairing: husband!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Smut

Warnings: Yoongi dresses up as Levi Ackerman, yep that’s the whole premise of the story, sub!Yoongi, dom!Reader, very ferally horny!Reader, rough making out, she just kind of pushes him around & he loves it, she also pins him down on multiple surfaces & rides the living shit out of him, some dirty talk, a very sloppy blowjob, a quick yet rough fuck, creampies, overstimulation (m.receiving), she calls him Captain & he calls her Misses Ackerman and brat for the roleplay, Yoongi is basically this emoji OoO the entire time

Wordcount: 5k

a/n: This is so entirely and sickeningly self-indulgent that’s it’s ridiculous and the OC could very well be called Sibi LMOAO. No, I am not even an ounce ashamed to admit it. Not one teeny tiny, itsy pitsy ounce. This was delicious to work on and has no brain behind it, just pussy 🥵 If you decide to read it, first of all, I see you 😛 and second of all, have fun 🤪💜

The problem with being an adult and having your own adult money is that one can spend said adult money on anything one wants, even if it is something entirely stupid.

Yoongi, adult and owner of his own adult money, did exactly that. 

He spent his adult money on something entirely stupid. 

Well, he hopes it is not stupid as it is the most important part of an elaborate plan to seduce you, his wife, adult and owner of her own adult money. That fact was beside the point however, as this story was about Yoongi and his adult money and the silly things he purchased over the course of the last two months. 

It was a rather tedious process. One which took probably most of his nerves. He did most of the online shopping at work, hunched over his old, grainy desktop while his kindergarten students were napping. Fear not, it wasn’t sextoys he purchased (although he is very certain that you would say so differently) but rather bits and pieces of a perfectly planned out costume. Then over the course of two months he had to make sure that he would be the first one to snatch your shared package deliveries. 

At one point he even had to snatch it right out of your hands, telling you lies about it being work-related and totally boring. You looked at him weird and asked him why he was being so protective over all the packages lately which almost made Yoongi spill the entire surprise because of how excited he was about surprising you.

But he didn’t and now after two months and fifteen days all the parts of his costume have finally arrived. Most parts were handcrafted by people, hence why the process took so much time and even more money from him. Too much money. Way too much of his hard earned adult money. 

Yoongi isn’t complaining, he is just once again letting one know just how much money he spent on the entire surprise, so if it should fail, he will probably break into tears. 

Now, one may wonder what exactly all this ruckus is about. What surprise and why is there talk about costumes? One shall find out. 

Keep reading

[rubyreduji]

he was a skater boy — hvc

summary: your skater boy best friend asks for your help to get with the head of the dance team

tags: slice of life, slight angst, skater boy!vernon, best friend!vernon, high school!au, gn!reader wc: 3.6k an: reader is in their avril lavigne era, we love debut vernon

“CHWE!” At the sound of his name being called, Vernon turns around to see you riding up to him on your skateboard. When you get closer to him you stop your board and walk the rest of the way to meet him. “What did you need from me?”

Earlier today your best friend told you he needed to talk to you later and to meet him at The Place. The Place being the parking lot of the abandoned shopping strip that went out when the new pier was built.

“So as you know you’re my best friend,” he starts.

“Yes…? Oh my god, are you breaking up with me?” You ask deadpanned. Vernon sighs in fake frustration which makes you crack a grin, which makes him crack a grin.

“But seriously dude, you’re my best friend which means I should come to you with shit like this. So like, I kinda…have a crush on someone,” he admits. You try not to laugh at him. You fail. “Hey!”

“Sorry man, that’s just…not what I was expecting. You’re being all dramatic like you’re dying or some shit. So what? You have the hots for someone, why are you telling me? Unless you’re in love with me Nonie~” You tease him and he glares at you before shoving at your shoulder.

“C’mon be serious. I’m telling you because I need help.” 

“Oh? Little Chwe doesn’t have game so he needs Y/N’s superior help?” You smirk at him. He shoves you again.

“I just need some pointers. You date people all the time! Plus you’re friends with this person, so just wingman me,” Vernon says.

“May I remind you that the people I date don’t exactly work out. Besides, you’re a catch man, what do you need me for? Everyone I’m friends with are total losers. Including you.” You punch him in the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, but that’s why I need your help. I mean, how else am I going to get Vanessa to like me.” The name makes your smile drop. You stare at Vernon a little incredulously.

“There’s no fucking way you have a crush on Vanessa Jeffries.”

“I know, okay! But you gotta help me out here man.”

“Hansol.” You give him a pointed look.

“Gross, don’t call me that.” Vernon makes a scrunched up face to display his disgust. “I will literally do anything Y/N.”

“Ness and I aren’t friends anymore, you know this,” you huff annoyed.

Vanessa Jefferies. She lives in the house two doors down from yours and you guys grew up together. Before Vernon was your best friend, it was Vanesssa. That was until you started to get into skateboarding and pop punk music and she started to get into dance and student council.

Once high school hit it was easy for you guys to split apart, especially since her older sister drove her to school and you still had to take the bus (two months into freshman year you just started skateboarding to school). Not that you didn’t try to stay friends, but she was always too busy with new friends or clubs or whatever and at some point you just stopped trying as well. By the end of first semester of freshman year she had a whole new group of friends and a whole new style and even attitude. You on the other hand didn’t change much but that meant that you were still on the outskirts of the school hierarchy.

Then halfway through second semester Vernon moved to California from New York and you guys became fast friends over your shared love of skateboarding and cringey emo phases and it didn’t matter that Vanessa didn’t even look at you in the halls anymore because you had Vernon.

Now in senior year Vanessa is head of the dance squad, student body president, the founder of the conservation club, and on track to be class valedictorian. And you’re still riding to school on your skateboard listening to the same music you have been for four years. You can’t even remember the last time you talked to her, let alone had a conversation.

It’s a whole cliche, you know, and it annoys you to no end, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Vanessa isn’t going to suddenly show up at your doorstep begging to be friends again and you’re not going to change your personality just to fit in with her group of friends. You honestly were planning on spending the rest of high school ignoring her and her band of asshole followers without a second thought.

But here’s your best friend asking you to help him score a date with the most popular girl in school and it’s Vernon so as much as you tease him you still have the biggest soft spot for him and can’t say no.

“Please Y/N?” He begs, eyes round and pleading.

You groan out loud and drag a hand down your face. “Fine. But you owe me so badly Chwe.” 

“He wants you to what?”

You groan. “He wants me to help him get with Ness.”

“Ha, good luck with that.” 

You’re laying on Josh’s bed as he sits at his desk working on his homework. Joshua Hong is the only other person you would consider a good friend outside of Vernon. He lives in the house diagonal from yours and he grew up with you and Vanessa. He was never as close to Vanessa as you were though, always being more of your friend than hers. Unlike either of you Joshua keeps a middle of the road popularity with most of his friends being kids from the theatre department.

As much as you love Vernon he’s a “out to have a good time” friend, whereas Joshua is a “talk until three am about your issues” friend.

“You aren’t really thinking about helping him are you? You’ve had the biggest crush on him since he moved to California, there’s no way you can help him get with your ex-best friend.”

“What else can I do Josh? He’s my best friend. I can't just not do anything.”

“I know, I know. Just…don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“Aww is Joshie worried about me?”

“Nevermind break your own heart bitch.”

You’re about to retort back to Josh when the doorbell rings. His parents aren’t home so you and Joshua both make your way down the stairs. When he opens the door you swear the universe is playing tricks on you.

“Hey Joshua! Oh, hey Y/N.” The girl you were just discussing is standing there on Joshua’s front porch with a smile on her face. “Wow this is actually so fortunate you’re both here! As you know since we’re all seniors this year we have senior projects to do and I was wondering if you guys wanted to do ours together! I’m head of the conversation club and I was thinking of doing a neighborhood clean up and since you guys live here too we could all work on it together.”

Joshua is about to respond but you cut him off by shoving him to the side and taking his place in front of Vanessa. “Hey Ness, it’s been so long! As great as that sounds, Josh and I are already working on our senior projects together. But you know who still needs an idea and loves the planet? My friend Vernon. You should ask him.”

“Vernon,” Vanessa mutters like she’s trying to figure out who he is. “The brunet skater guy right?”

“Yep, that’s him! Chwe’s his last name, you can find him in the phone book. Thanks, bye!” With that you close the front door of the Hong residence and drop your fake smile.

“Y/N! Why did you do that?” Joshua hisses, rubbing his arm where you shoved him.

“Because I’m helping Vernon out! I wouldn’t have said yes anyways. Working with Vanessa to clean up the neighborhood? I’ll pass.”

“You don’t even want him to date Vanessa!” Joshua shouts.

“You’re right! Are you happy?” You snap back, then let out a deep sigh. “He wouldn't like me back anyways Shua, so I’m not going to risk our friendship over a stupid crush. If he wants Vanessa then Vanessa is what he’s going to get. I just want him happy, I’ll be okay.”

At your tone of voice and the use of the nickname Joshua doesn’t say anything more and you’re grateful for that, but you still see the way he can’t wipe the concerned look off his face.

“The skater guy? He’s weird Vanessa.” The grating shrill voice of Polly Brunham fills your ears as you walk past the girl’s bathroom during study hall. “You were already pushing it by asking Y/N L/N to help with your senior project.”

You roll your eyes at this. Of course Vanessa and her friends are gossiping about you and Vernon. This is the exact reason you were hesitant on helping Vernon out in the first place.

“Hey don’t talk about Y/N like that. As for Vernon, I talked to him earlier. He seems nice and really willing to help. He’s kinda cute too,” Vanessa giggles. You frown at this. Vanessa thinks Vernon is cute. Your dorky best friend who is in need of a haircut and only got his braces off a few months ago. 

“You’re joking with me, you have to be!” Another shrill voice. You then hear Vanessa laughing as well. Of course she’s joking.

“I’m just being nice okay. I’m student body president, I can’t just turn people down when they offer their help like that. Y/N seemed really insistent when I asked too, so let's just call it a favor to an old friend.” You roll your eyes before continuing to walk back to study hall.

The next time you see Vernon is at lunch and you’re about to tell him what you overheard in the bathroom but he barely stops at your table to talk to you.

“Y/N! You’re literally the best! Vanessa wants to eat lunch with me and talk about the senior project!”

“Listen Vern, Vanessa isn’t the type of person to-”

“Hey I have to go, but I’ll see you after school okay!” With that he rushes off. You watch him walk up to Vanessa’s table and the two walk into the courtyard. Your eyes land on Vanessa’s friends and the way they start to whisper the second Vernon leaves. 

You’ll tell him later.

You don’t tell him later.

You barely have five seconds alone with him anymore and he always looks so happy when you do talk to him that you don’t want to crush that. Not to mention that Vanessa always looks happy to be around Vernon, and not in the fake way, in the genuine way. 

Before you know it a whole month has passed and it seems that Vernon and Vanessa have become friends. They’re together most of the time which leads you to spending more time with Joshua who keeps sending you pitying looks every time you hang out.

“You have to tell him,” Joshua insists.

“No I don’t.”

“At least tell him to balance his time better! You guys went from seeing each other everyday to barely even speaking. It’s sad.”

“Stay out of it Joshua,” you growl.

“No! You’re killing yourself over here Y/N. Everyday since you told Vanessa to ask Vernon for help on the senior project you’ve been wallowing in this cloud of miserableness and I’m tired of it! Your happiness shouldn’t be sacrificed for Vernon’s,” Joshua tells you. This is what you love and hate about him. He’s also honest with you and tells you the exact thing you need to hear. He’s great at giving advice, it’s just you who’s bad at taking it.

“It’s fine. Things will go back to normal after they finish the senior project. They should be done soon anyways, have you not seen the posters Vanessa has been putting around the neighborhood?”

The neighborhood clean up she and Vernon are planning is set for the Saturday in two weeks. Your mom keeps talking about it and every time she does you either leave the room or put your earbuds in.

“Fine, but if things don’t get better after the clean up then you better do something.”

Vernon has asked you to hang out together today. The text takes you by surprise because you haven't heard for him in a while because he's "been busying planning the clean up". You don't think there can be that much planning going on. He's probably just trailing around Vanessa like the pathetic shadow he's been for the past five weeks.

He asks to meet up at your guys' favorite skate park which makes you forgive him a little bit. Deep down he's still Vernon, your stupid skater best friend who spends too much time trying to stick skills that just ends up with his hands being scraped up.

When you get there he's about to drop into the bowl. The park is fairly empty, but even if it wasn't Vernon is easy to spot with his colorful outfits and his tall figure.

You stop walking so you can stand and watch him do his trick. You can tell what trick he's trying to the second he drops in. It's the same one he's been trying to stick for months now. He picks up speed around the bowl before flying out, catching air, only to fly right back in, speeding up even more. He goes around the bowl before he catches his tail on the lip, riding around the rim.

You stare, anticipating the normal fall he always does when he gets to the final skill, but you watch at he grabs the lip of the bowl and kicks his feet up into the air for a few seconds before bringing them back down, sticking in the landing and riding out of the bowl.

Holy shit.

This is the first time he's ever been able to stick all three skills back to back. You can tell he's hyped off of adrenaline and you make haste to go congratulate him, just as stoked as he is.

That is until Vernon doesn't turn to you. He turns to the girl who's sitting on the bench excitedly clapping.

"Holy shit did you see that!" Vernon calls excited to her.

She giggles. "You're so cool. I would have fell the second I stepped foot on the skateboard."

Of course. Of fucking course.

You laugh to yourself a bit incredulously. Of course he brings Vanesssa here. Why did you expect that you would be able to get just one moment alone with your best friend? Why did you expect him to keep your guys' favorite hobby to just you and him?

You have half the mind to turn around and leave but Vernon finally catches sight of you.

"Y/N! Hey! You would never believe what I just did!"

"I uh saw," you say.

"Oh. Hey Y/N." Vanessa smiles at you.

"...Hey Ness...What are you doing here?"

"I invited her!" Vernon says happily. "She asked me to sat in on one of her dance rehearsals and I said it was only fair if she came with me to the skate park, so here we are."

Vernon...your Vernon...sat in on a dance team rehearsal.

You love Vernon, you want him to be happy, but not if it means this. Not if it means he's dropping his friends and doing things he doesn't enjoy just to be around Vanessa Jeffries.

Honestly if this is what he wants, you're not going to stop him. He can be happy, but you don't have to jeoprodize your happiness as well.

"Yeah, hey uh, I think Josh needed me for something so I have to go. I'll catch you later." You know its a lie but you don't really care. You don't even bother to listen to Vernon's response before you mount your board and skate away.

“Are you and Joshua dating?” You don’t even have a chance to take your earbuds out before Vernon is interrogating you.

“Excuse me?” He hasn’t talked to you properly in weeks (you are not counting the skate park incident) and now he’s demanding you to answer his question like nothing has happened.

“Are you and Joshua Hong dating?”

“That’s fucking disgusting Vernon. Why would I be dating Josh?”

“I don’t know. You’re around him all the time now and you guys look really comfortable.”

“Yeah that’s called fifteen years of friendship. Plus you’re around Vanessa all the time, even when you ask to hang out with me, so I don’t know what you want from me anymore. To sit around alone everyday waiting for you to finally text me back? Yeah right Hansol, you’re out of your mind.” His first name slips out, something that happens when you’re particularly upset with him. “I don’t care whatever crush you have on her, but don’t think I’m stupid enough to just sit around and wait for you. Just leave me be.” With that you grab your things and walk away from him and he’s too stunned to follow.

Your mom forces you to go to the neighborhood clean up. You’re in jeans and a t-shirt as you stand off to the side with Joshua. You glare over at where Vernon and Vanessa are standing, talking to some of the neighbors.

“He’s being an ass,” you say.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and fix things,” Joshua sighs.

“Why should I try when he isn’t?”

“Because things won’t get better if neither of you try!”

The rest of the day sucks. It’s hot as you go around trying to clean up trash and pull weeds. You stick close to Josh the whole time and barely even look at Vernon. You’re considering just leaving at one point but Joshua stops you because his conscience is too nice to leave but he doesn’t want to be left alone.

Finally after too many hours of working everything is done. You’re itching to go home and take a shower but you stop when you see Vernon and Vanessa standing and talking.

“Vanessa, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes Hansol?” You cringe. Vernon hates being called Hansol. It’s even worse since you guys became friends because now he associated it with you being mad at him.

“I like you. I have for a while and doing this project with you really solidified everything. I love being around you and I hope you feel the same way. Will you go on a date with me?”

“Oh Hansol,” you hate the pity in Vanessa’s voice, “I don’t like you like that. You’re a great kid and this project was really fun but you’re just not my type.”

“Oh…”

“I’m really sorry.” With that Vanessa turns her back and walks away from Vernon.

You hate the dejected look on Vernon’s face. You hate the way you can see the pain in his eyes as he watches Vanessa leave. When she’s fully out of sight Vernon finally looks away and just happens to meet your eyes.

And just like that weeks of pain and distance don’t exist anymore. You’re walking to Vernon and wrapping him in your arms as he silently cries into your shoulder.

“Hey Vern?”

“What’s up?”

“How would you feel if I wrote a song about Vanessa Jeffries?”

Your boyfriend looks up from his desk top to stare at you. “What?”

You laugh a bit. “You remember senior year?” He nods. “What if I write a song about it? Something like, he was a skater boy, she said see you later boy.”

“That’s awful.”

“No it’s not!” You smack his shoulder. 

Senior year was a distant memory at this point. You and Vernon are now happily dating (even though it didn’t happen until sophomore year of college) and now you guys are both singer-songwriters while Vernon produces music as well.

“And what if Vanessa hears it?”

“Then she’ll know what a fat L she took when she turned you down,” you answer. “But it’s a good thing because now you are dating the coolest person on the planet.”

“I didn’t know I was dating Woozi from Seventeen. How lucky is that.”

“Haha,” you deadpan at your boyfriend’s K-Pop obsession. He just cracks a grin at you. “I’m going to write the best damn song ever and you’re going to see how it blows up. Just wait.”

“Sorry, girl, but you missed out. Well, tough luck that boy's mine now. We are more than just good friends. This is how the story ends. Too bad that you couldn't see, see the man that boy could be. There is more that meets the eye, I see the soul that is inside.” You sing out. You can feel the sweat running down your forehead as the hot stadium lights shine down on you. “We are in love, haven't you heard, how we rock each other's world~”

Your fingers fly over the strings of your guitar skillfully as you smirk. Of course you proved your boyfriend wrong. You always write bangers. Your eyes flit over to the side of the stage where he’s standing there watching you, a smile playing at his own lips.

You look down into the audience and you swear you catch a familiar face, an almost knowing look plastered on said face.

“I'll be at a studio, singing the song we wrote, about a girl you used to know~” You finish. The audience erupts into applause and you smile and thank them before heading off stage.

“Phenomenal as always,” Vernon tells you the second you meet him.

“I know,” you smirk and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Did you see she was here tonight?”

“Who?”

“Vanessa Jeffries.”

“Holy shit.”

“Tell her hey when you go out,” you tell him. “I mean, she’s the whole reason this song is such a hit.”

“God you’re awful,” Vernon says.

“But you love me.” You lean forward to kiss Vernon. “And my awful song.”

“Yeah, I really do.”

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[sluttywoozi]

Angel Kisses | Sleepover Fic #5

For: @yeritheloml

Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader

Prompt: when we kiss I feel like I'm floating, like literally gravity stopped working on me please don't let go?? also another kiss wouldn't hurt just saying + Oh My!

Rating: T

Word Count: ~1200

Notes: some kissing, drug mention, wisdom teeth fic

Wonwoo’s forehead thunks against the window of the car, startling him awake, the siren song that had lulled him to sleep still echoing in his mind. His face feels numb, his eyes bleary, and his heavy, cotton stuffed head lolls to the side. What might be an angel greets him, and his eyes blow wide open behind his glasses, brain screaming oh my oh my oh my oh my. He didn’t know angels could drive, but maybe they’re not supposed to because the car skips over a curb and Wonwoo jostles side to side, ability to stabilize himself lost. The car stops for some reason, and the angel glances over at him, and Wonwoo can feel his heart thumping in his chest, getting faster and faster the longer you stare. 

Your hand leaves the steering wheel, moving toward his face, and he leans closer out of instinct, laying his cheek in your palm and gazing at you. The sun shines into the window from behind you, bathing you in light, giving you a halo, and Wonwoo’s suspicions are confirmed. He’s not sure why an angel is driving him, or where he’s going, but maybe he’d died while getting his wisdom teeth out, and heaven had an uber system? He doesn’t really care either way, thinks he’ll be alright as long as he gets to keep staring at you; the crinkle of your nose, the curve of your cupid’s bow, the angle of your collarbones. 

Wonwoo’s obsessed already, can’t take his eyes off of you, and now he worries you might be a demon. You’re just too beautiful, you smell too sweet and sound too melodic, and you’re looking at him like you love him, which must be a trap. 

But you smile at him, brush your thumb over his cheek, and Wonwoo decides he doesn’t need to know what you are if it means you’ll keep touching him like this. Your other hand comes up, finger sweeping under his eye and pulling away to reveal an eyelash resting on the pad of your index. You stare at him expectantly, and Wonwoo lets out a quiet oh, closing his eyes to make a wish and pursing his lips to blow it away. It’s still there when he opens his eyes, and he tries again, but can’t tell if his mouth is even moving or if air is coming out, and he tries to pout at you, telling you without words that he can’t feel his lips. 

Your hand leaves his face to smack your forehead, and Wonwoo groans out a disapproving sound, grabbing your chin in his fingers to pull your face down so he can kiss the spot you’d just hit. He can’t really make his lips move and they kind of smush against your skin, but you giggle anyway, tilting your chin out of his loose grip to press your lips against his, and now Wonwoo knows he’s made it to heaven.

He’s floating already, outside of his body and outside of his mind, everything going numb except for the few points of connection he has with you. His eyes stay closed when you pull away, still feeling like he’s defying gravity, but he’s brought out of it when he hears you say his name. 

Wonwoo’s eyes blink open to watch how your mouth forms around the letters, entranced by the movement of your lips, enamored by the shape they make on the last syllable. Pouted slightly, opened just big enough for his finger or his tongue, pushed out like you’re begging for another kiss.

He doesn’t have the willpower to resist, figures if he’s gotten this far he can push his luck a little, and leans in to kiss you again, sucking your plush bottom lip into his mouth to glide his tongue over it. You whimper into his mouth a bit, and Wonwoo tries to kiss you harder, but you catch his jaw in your palm, push him from you gently, thumb reaching over to rest on the seam of his lips. He tries to nip at your skin, but finds he can’t control his teeth, so he just gazes at you, breathes against your thumb until you remove it with a hazy look in your eyes. 

“I’m not making out with you while you’re high, babe,” you chuckle, grinning more when he tries to pout. 

“I’m not high, I don’t do drugs except for that one time and it was an accident!” Wonwoo protests desperately. 

“Honey, I know you don’t do drugs, but you had sur-”

“Who even puts weed in brownies, they’re perfect just as they are!” Wonwoo continues, as if you hadn’t spoken at all, caught up in the memory of Jeonghan, Joshua, and Cheol’s first party in their new apartment. 

“I agree, babe, but if you remember, I wouldn’t make out with you then either,” you remind him. 

“You were there?! Are angels allowed to go to parties?” Wonwoo asks, absentmindedly and a bit scandalized. 

“They are if you’re their boyfriend,” you say teasingly, “now come on, we’ve been home for like four minutes.”

Wonwoo doesn’t hear the last part though, still caught on the word boyfriend, caught on you saying he’s your boyfriend. 

He must take too long to respond to you, because you shake your head with a smile, reaching your hand down next to his hip to unbuckle his seatbelt. He gasps at your proximity, wishes you’d come closer, but you move further away instead, opening your car door and hopping out. He didn’t even realize you’d turned the car off, and he feels the sun hit the back of his head suddenly, twists around to squint into the brightness of the open door.

You’re standing there, framed again by sunlight, and Wonwoo feels his head swim, dazed at your beauty. He doesn’t really know what to do, feels frozen by the love bubbling up inside of his chest, wonders if his knees will be able to hold the weight of his overgrown heart. He finds they do though, as you pull him out of the car and tug his arm over your shoulder, walking him inside with a hand holding tight to his waist and fingers clenched in his tshirt.

There’s pictures all over, ones of you and him, ones of you and him and your friends, ones of you and him and your families, and Wonwoo suddenly knows exactly where he is and remembers exactly who you are. 

“Baby, it’s youuuu,” he exclaims, shifting the arm on your shoulder to wrap around your neck and tug you close, his other arm coming up to wind around you and anchor you to his chest. You giggle into his neck, and Wonwoo can feel your warm breath against his skin and the way your lips stretch into a smile, and a twin grin rises on his face.

He feels something rub on his ankle, so he pulls away and looks down to see a small cat weaving its way in to sit between you and him. His mouth drops open, eyebrows raising to hide in his bangs, and he sinks down to the floor, pulling you with him. 

“Who is this?” Wonwoo breathes excitedly at you, and your face screws up in bemusement and fondness. 

“This is our cat, babe.”

“We have a CAT?!” 

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[escapewriter]

LIE AGAIN

⤷ a world in which various types of the soulmate system apply, you just so happen to have one that is completely stupid; being able to hear what your soulmate thinks of. however, when your soulmate hums a certain tune, you cant seem to get it out of your head.

pairing : idol!vernon x musician!female reader

genre : smau, soulmate au, fluff, humor, slight angst, etc

warnings : swearing, mentions of death (i think i dont remember knejdksk)

status : completed

started : 9/3/20

ended : 9/25/20

updates : every other day

a/n : im lowkey excited about this one. im really gonna try my best at this one and hopefully ill get a good reaction from it. neway, i hope you guys like it!!

svt smau masterlist || main masterlist

Keep reading

[jimlingss]

Jungle Park Series

A Slice of Life Series Written In 2018

► Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah…once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

► Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Workplace Romance!AU

► Parts: 1|1.5|2|3|4|4.5|5|6|7|7.5|8|8.5|9|10|11|11.5|12|13|13.5|14|15|15.5|16|17|18|19|19.5|20|20.5|21|22|23|24 

[suhnshinehaos]

WANTED : NEW ROOMMATE

pros : you get your own room, it’s cheap, near the campus, you get to live with us :) cons : you have to live with us :( for inquiries contact @ woozi @ wonu @ jun @ hoshi on twitter !!

suhnshinehaos presents…

apartment 5c : a svt 96 line smau

synopsis : when yn’s exchange student roommates leave, they are left with the unfortunate task of finding a new place to stay. lucky for them, a room just opened up at apartment 5c, complete with the most interesting group of people they could ever hope to meet.

pairing : svt 96 line x gn!reader

genre/s : university au, roommates au, fluff, tiniest bit of angst (maybe), slice of life, humor

format : mostly smau + some written parts

status : completed !!

—  episode list + note under the cut <3

Keep reading

[femme11fatale]

BTS Festa Special

In celebration of Festa, here’s a little special OT7 something! Hope you enjoy! 💜

JEON JUNGKOOK 💜

You wake up to a flurry of sticky notes posted from the kettle to the bathroom mirror. One has somehow been attached to your phone, and you peel it off and squint at the message.

| challenge four: Find the next clue.

"What happened to challenges one, two and three?” you groan aloud. 

Laughter immediately erupts from the next room, and you already know who’s responsible. Jungkook the menace. When you locate him, he's giving you his best, most innocent, wide-eyed look. 

"You overslept,” he says, grinning. 

You stretch lazily. "Is there something I needed to wake up earlier for?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d be up like a shot if I were losing,” he tells you mischievously. 

Ha, Jungkook up like a shot for something that wasn’t food related? Now that you would love to see. 

You stare at him suspiciously. "Losing what?"

His grin widens. "Festa."

"Huh?"

"Festa Challenge Day."

Apparently, while you were asleep, Jungkook had invented thirteen challenges to celebrate thirteen years of BTS. The man lived for competition, you swear −but how can you refuse to participate when he had gone to all this trouble and effort, and saying no to those huge doe eyes just wasn’t in your repertoire. 

So, you entered the fifth challenge which involved identifying BTS songs from less than two seconds of audio. You lose embarrassingly much to Jungkook’s amusement. The sixth challenge requires arranging printed photos from different eras in chronological order, where you do a little better. 

The seventh is a scavenger hunt you barely have energy for, and the eighth is locating hidden purple objects around the apartment. By lunchtime, your score is nearly equal, which brings out Jungkook’s competitive streak out more. 

"You hid these clues,” you state accusingly. 

"Maybe."

"You definitely hid these clues."

"Can you prove it?"

Unfortunately, you can’t so you bite your tongue and soldier on. As the day continues, the challenges become less about winning and more about remembering. A favourite performance, a funny old moment, a lyric that still means something years later. Between the laughter and arguments over scoring, stories keep surfacing −things neither you nor Jungkook hadn't thought about in ages.

The years start to lose distance and feel strangely close together, accumulated like pages in a book you've both been rereading. 

By the time you arrive at the thirteenth challenge, the scores are tied again. Jungkook unfolds the final card dramatically. "Last challenge." You hold out your hand, but he doesn't give it to you and reads it out. "Name your favourite Festa memory."

Suddenly the game isn't a game as your mind drifts through years of performances, songs, celebrations, and moments shared with millions of people. Beside you, Jungkook seems to be doing the same until eventually, you both answer. Different memories, different reasons, but the same smile. 

When you're finished, Jungkook glances at the scoreboard, before quietly picking up the marker. You expect him to declare himself the winner, but instead he draws a heart around both names.

"That's not how scoring works."

"It is today."

You laugh. "Because it's Festa?"

"Because it's Festa."

For once, he isn't thinking about first place. He's thinking about why everyone showed up in the first place, and somehow on the anniversary of thirteen years of memories, that feels like the most Jungkook thing of all.

KIM TAEHYUNG/V 💜

There is a paper napkin folded in half and left beside your breakfast. It isn’t a love letter, but written on it, in Taehyung's unmistakable handwriting, are a few simple words.

| Don't throw this away. Trust me.

When you ask him about it later, he only smiles. "Did you keep it?"

"Yeah."

"Perfect," he tells you, refusing to elaborate further. 

That is how the collection begins. Over the next few days, more things appear accompanied by the same little notes with the same instruction requesting that you save whatever it is. There’s a receipt, a chewing gum wrapper, a cup sleeve −even a doodled over paper bag. 

By Festa week, you've accumulated an entire envelope of what appears to be rubbish and with your curiosity now at peak point and having accumulated a pretty substantive stack of effectively things for the garbage, proceed to tell Taehyung this. "You're making me save trash."

"It's not trash,” he tells you. 

"Tae, there are literally receipts and paper bags here!" you exclaim. 

"They’re memories," he insists. 

You shake your head in confusion. "Of what −how much you spent?"

"They’re all memories, Y/N,” he says stubbornly. 

There is absolutely no arguing with him, so the envelope grows and Taehyung becomes increasingly pleased with himself, which is concerning. On the final evening of Festa, he appears carrying scissors, glue, and a large sketchbook.

You immediately point at him. "Oh no,” you say, eyes wide, “You’ve been planning something, haven’t you?"

His boxy grin answers the question. The two of you spread everything across the floor, the entire mysterious collection finally revealed. The napkin from the morning you overslept and rushed out laughing, the receipt from a tiny shop you wandered into because you liked the music playing inside, the ticket from a local exhibition neither of you fully understood and the paper sleeve from a drink shared while waiting for a delayed train.

One by one, Taehyung arranges them onto the pages. There’s no neat, chronological order to the arrangement, just a placement according to whatever logic exists inside his head, which somehow works.

You find yourself laughing as each object unlocks a forgotten moment. They aren’t even major events or milestones, but just the things in between, those moments that would have disappeared first.

At one point, you pick up the very first napkin. "You planned all of this?"

"Not all of it." His fingers brush the edge of the paper. "I just started noticing things."

The answer feels surprisingly sincere.

You look around at the growing scrapbook; the collection of tiny, ordinary pieces of life. None of them valuable or impressive, yet together they tell a story more accurately than any photograph could, like a story made entirely of moments that almost went unnoticed.

Taehyung leans back to admire the finished pages, and for once he's quiet. Then he points to an empty space near the centre. "There's one missing." You look up at him. "The memory from tonight."

Before you can ask what he means, he tears a corner from the paper bag lying nearby and hands it to you. "Write something −anything,” he asks you. 

You hesitate, before writing a single sentence. When you're finished, he folds the scrap and glues it into the empty spot. Nobody reads it aloud, because you don’t need to. Years from now, when the details of this Festa have blurred around the edges, you'll probably forget what you ate, what songs were playing or what day of the week it was. 

But you'll open this sketchbook and find all these carefully saved things, and you’ll remember exactly how it felt to be here, with someone who collected moments the way other people collected treasures. Someone who saw meaning in things everyone else would throw away, and who somehow made an ordinary week impossible to forget.

KIM SEOKJIN/JIN 💜

The Festa livestream has been over for nearly an hour, but Seokjin is still buzzing with energy.

You find him sprawled across the sofa, scrolling through fan comments on his phone with a grin so wide it looks painful.

"Look at this one," he says, immediately shoving the screen in your face. "Apparently I haven't aged in ten years."

"You've shown me that comment three times,” you tell him. 

"Because it's important,” he says, face deadpan. 

You both laugh together, there’s never a dull moment with Seokjin.

"Seriously, though," he says, setting his phone aside. "It's nice."

You glance over. "What is?"

"All of it." For once, there's no joke attached. "The celebrations, the memories −everyone showing up every year after all this time." His voice softens. "Even after all this time. I can’t believe it, it still feels like a dream sometimes."

You know how much the band means to him, and how much the fans means to him. He jokes constantly, but his sincerity is too fierce to keep hidden. You reach for his hand. "They love you."

"I know,” he says, the answer coming immediately, confident as ever. Then he squeezes your fingers. "−But I'm still grateful."

The moment threatens to become emotional, and naturally, Seokjin cannot allow that. Abruptly, he stands up. "Right, enough feelings."

You blink. "What?"

"We need a Festa feast."

"A feast?"

"Yes."

Twenty minutes later, you're both standing in the kitchen wearing matching aprons as he sings dramatically into a wooden spoon, magically managing not to burn anything despite dancing around every surface and making terrible puns. 

He demands applause every time he throws something into the pan, and somewhere between his exaggerated chef poses and his relentless attempts to make you laugh, you realize this is Seokjin's way of celebrating. 

There aren’t any grand speeches in sight; only good food, genuine silly laughter, and making sure the people he loves are smiling. The kitchen fills with both −especially the laughter.

MIN YOONGI/SUGA 💜

Festa week always brings little changes. More messages, more excitement, more moments where Yoongi disappears into his own thoughts for a few minutes before returning to the conversation as if nothing happened.

When he starts opening drawers one evening, you don't think much of it, until he reaches the fourth one.

"What are you looking for?"

He glances up briefly. "A box."

"That’s very helpful."

"It's small."

"How remarkable."

A corner of his mouth twitches, but together, you search through cupboards, shelves, and storage boxes that haven't been touched in months. Most people would have given up by now, but Yoongi becomes increasingly determined.

An hour later, he finds the box he’s been hunting for tucked behind a stack of old blankets. "There!” he announces, his entire face brightening.

"Was it really that important?" you ask, staring at the small box. 

"Yeah,” he replies, rotating the box in his hands with surprising care. 

Curiosity gets the better of you as he opens it to reveal a few tiny pieces of paper. Some are folded neatly, some crumpled, others decorated with little doodles.

"What is this?"

Yoongi sits down on the floor beside the box. "This is Festa tradition."

You stare. "You have a Festa tradition?"

"Why does everyone sound shocked when I say things like that?"

"Because you're you."

"That’s fair I guess,” he smiles. "I write things down when I don't want to forget them. Then during Festa, I go through all of them."

Written across it is a single sentence: | Finally performed that song.

The date underneath is from three years ago.

Then there’s another, this one says: | Thought today would be stressful. It wasn't.

And another: | Still surprised people listen.

Your heart swells as you realise they’re memories and feelings he’s written down and stored away. There aren’t any headlines or huge achievements, but little pieces of years gone by in moments. 

"You kept all of these?" you gasp. 

He nods. "Since the early days." His fingers move through the papers. "Every Festa I write down one thing I want to remember."

Both of you sit there reading them; laughing at some and feeling unexpectedly emotional over others. Then Yoongi tears a fresh slip of paper from a notepad and quickly writes something down. He folds it and drops it into the box.

"That's it?" you say.

"That's it."

You hold out your hand. "Let me see."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's for future me."

You narrow your eyes, but he's already closing the lid. "You're impossible."

"Correct,” he grins. 

You shake your head at him and watch as he strokes the box lid thoughtfully. "If you want," he says casually, "You can add one too."

The offer is so simple you almost miss its significance. This isn't a public tradition, or for the fans. This is something he's quietly carried through the years. Something private that he protects, and now he's making room for you inside it.

You take the pen before you can overthink it, and Yoongi pretends not to watch as you write. But when you open the box and place your folded note inside beside his, you catch the small smile he tries to hide.

This year's memory has already been made.

PARK JIMIN 💜

You discover the problem five minutes before guests arrive. There's not nearly enough cake.

You stare at the disaster, then at the number of people expected, then back at the cake. "No!” you groan. 

Jimin looks over. "What?"

"The cake is too small."

He studies it for a moment. “I think you’re right.”

"That's all you have to say?"

"It's definitely too small,” he offers. 

You groan louder. This is a Festa gathering, not a formal event. It’s just friends dropping by throughout the day, but still people expect cake −people deserve cake. 

Jimin watches you calculate increasingly impossible solutions, before gently removing the knife from your hand. "It'll be fine."

"How can it be fine?” you grumble. “It won't."

"Trust me, don’t worry,” he tells you. 

"Jimin."

"It will be okay," he reiterates firmly. 

His confidence is irritating, mostly because he seems completely sincere and confident. As the guests begin arriving, the cake remains tragically undersized. You wait for disaster, but instead, something strange happens.

Conversations start immediately, people begin to move between rooms. Music plays and someone tells a story, others laugh and the atmosphere grows warmer with every passing minute. Nobody seems to care about the size of the cake. 

By the time the cake finally makes its appearance, the gathering has taken on a life of its own.

Jimin cuts the slices; tiny slices that are almost comically tiny. You watch in horror, then confusion which morphs into amusement, because against all odds, everyone looks happy. Nobody complains or even seems to notice, because they’re too busy talking and enjoying being together. 

When the final piece has been handed out, Jimin catches your eye. "See, I told you." he says with a grin. 

You hate when he's right, especially because he usually is. Later, after everyone has gone home, you ask him the question that's been bothering you all day. "How did you know that nobody would care about the cake."

He thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "They came for the people."

The answer stays with you, because it should have been obvious. That's what Jimin had understood from the beginning. Festa was never about getting everything perfect, it was about creating a space where people felt welcome, seen and included. 

The cake had just been cake. The real celebration had been happening around it the entire time, and somehow, Jimin had made sure everyone left feeling like they belonged.

HOBI/J-HOPE 💜

The first sign that Hobi has been planning something is the spreadsheet. The second is the colour-coding.

The third and most telling is the fact that he won't let you see either.

"It's a surprise,” he tells you. 

"You made a spreadsheet for a surprise?"

"An excellent spreadsheet."

By Festa morning, your phone contains twelve unanswered messages from him, each one saying the same thing. 

| Wear something comfortable.

You find him waiting with enough snacks to survive a minor natural disaster. "Hobi?"

"What?"

"Why do you have three bags?"

He looks genuinely confused. "Because there are activities."

The word activities worry you.

The day unfolds according to a schedule that exists only inside Hobi's head. There’s a picnic, a silly game, a challenge involving purple ribbons and a stop at a bakery because apparently on Festa day, ‘celebration calories don’t count’. 

Everything runs with suspicious efficiency, every detail considered. Even the weather seems personally approved by him. Somewhere in the middle of it all, you realise that Hobi isn't paying the most attention to the activities. He's watching you, checking if you're enjoying yourself, adjusting plans when something catches your interest, adding extra time to things you like and removing things you don't.

Late in the afternoon, he finally reveals the spreadsheet. You lean over his shoulder. 

The title reads: | THINGS THAT MAKE FESTA FEEL LIKE FESTA

Below it is a list; Laughing too hard, eating too much, good music, good company, finding reasons to celebrate.

You look at him. "This was the plan?"

"Obviously."

"These aren't activities."

"Sure they are." His smile grows bright, the one that is always capable of lighting up an entire room.

Suddenly the day makes perfect sense. Only Hobi would plan a celebration so carefully just to make it feel effortless, spending hours organising something so that everyone else could simply enjoy it.

And only Hobi would consider happiness a task worth preparing for.

KIM NAMJOON/RM 💜

The question arrives halfway through breakfast. "Do you think they knew?"

You don't even look up. "Who?"

"The seven guys in 2013."

You immediately know who he means. Namjoon is staring thoughtfully into his coffee. "Do they know what?" you ask. 

"What this would become."

You consider the question. Outside, Festa celebrations are everywhere online. Messages, photos, millions of people marking the same anniversary. Thirteen years −it’s a strange thing to comprehend.

"No," you decide. "I don't think they could have."

"Me neither."

The conversation follows you both throughout the day. Whenever something catches Namjoon's attention, another question appears. What surprised them most, which dream came true exactly as expected, which one came true differently?

The discussion wanders, sometimes serious, other times funny or something completely ridiculous. By afternoon, you have so many theories. One even involves time travel. Namjoon starts analysing between your ideas, genuinely enjoying trying to reach conclusions. 

That's always been one of your favourite things about him, that his curiosity doesn't demand answers. He simply revels in the search.

As evening arrives, you’re both still amidst half-finished thoughts. "What was the point of all this?" you ask. 

Namjoon glances over. "There wasn't really one." His smile is small and content. "It was just interesting."

Only Namjoon could spend an entire Festa discussing one question without trying to solve it.

Yet somehow the anniversary feels more meaningful because of it −not because you've reflected on the past, or predicted the future, but because you've spent the day appreciating how extraordinary it is that none of it was predictable.

Somewhere between 2013 and now, reality became bigger than imagination, and that’s still fascinating to him.

Maybe it always would be.

♥ OT7 | BONUS ♥

You realise something is wrong when all seven of them agree too quickly.

"Absolutely."

"Sounds good."

"Let's do it."

"Easy."

You narrow your eyes. Across the room, seven expressions immediately become suspiciously innocent. You've known them long enough to recognise a conspiracy when you see one. "What are you planning?" you ask. 

"Nothing," Namjoon says, too quickly.

"Nothing?" you repeat.

"Nothing," Yoongi agrees. 

Your suspicions rise. By the time Hobi volunteers to help clean up without being asked, you're certain something is happening. You just can't figure out what.

The mystery continues throughout the day. People disappear and reappear, conversations stop when you enter rooms, Jungkook physically blocks a doorway at one point and Taehyung attempts a distraction so obvious it circles back around to being impressive. Meanwhile, Jin keeps announcing that everything is completely normal, which is perhaps the least reassuring thing anyone could say.

As Festa celebrations continue around you, the secret grows. By evening, your patience has vanished. "Tell me!” you plead. 

"No."

"Tell me."

"Still no."

Jimin actually looks apologetic, which means he's definitely involved. Traitor.

The final reveal happens after dinner, or rather, after you're lured into another room under highly questionable circumstances. The moment you walk in, everyone goes silent, and then suddenly very nervous. That is unexpected, because these are not people who get nervous easily.

You look around. The wall is covered with photographs, notes, drawings, printed screenshots and tiny scraps of paper. A sprawling collection of moments, memories from over the years. 

The time Hobi convinced everyone to attempt a recipe that went catastrophically wrong, the day Jungkook lost a game and spent an hour insisting the rules were flawed, a doodle Taehyung left on a napkin that he wanted to be called art, a shopping list written partly by Jin and rendered nearly unreadable by unnecessary jokes, a note from Namjoon, a photo Jimin somehow managed to save from being deleted and a receipt Yoongi had quietly kept for reasons nobody fully understands.

You move closer to see more memories emerge. All connected, one moment leading into another like a map. 

"You all made this?"

Seven different reactions answer the question. Jin points out that his section is clearly the best, Jungkook argues that his contribution required the most effort, Hobi starts explaining the planning process, but nobody lets him finish. Taehyung is already examining the wall as though he's seeing it for the first time, Namjoon looks quietly pleased and Jimin watches your reaction. Yoongi stands slightly behind everyone else, pretending not to.

The familiar chaos settles around you like home. 

Eventually, your eyes land on the centre of the display, where there is a single empty space.

Beneath it is a note.

| For the memory we haven't made yet.

For a moment, the room becomes very quiet, because somehow that empty space says more than all the photographs around it. Festa is about celebrating what exists; the years, the music and the people who stayed. But standing here, surrounded by seven people who have shared so much life together, the empty space feels equally important.

It's a reminder that the story isn't finished, and that there are still memories waiting. More laughter, more ridiculous arguments, more dinners that go on too long, more moments that seem ordinary until years later.

When you finally look up, everyone is watching and waiting. You smile and immediately, the room erupts. Jin declares the surprise a complete success, Jungkook demands credit, Hobi starts celebrating as though an award has been won, Taehyung suggests adding something else to the wall, Namjoon and Jimin are laughing, and even Yoongi is smiling openly now.

The evening continues, entirely impossible to control, and as you stand in the middle of it all, watching seven people talk over one another with the ease of thirteen years of history between them, you think Festa might not really be about looking back.

Maybe it's about moments like this. A room full of people choosing, again and again, to stay part of one another's lives. The memories on the wall matter, the empty space matters too, but neither is as important as the people still standing in front of it.

And tonight, that feels like more than enough.

thanks for reading • 𓂃𝜗𝜚 ♥ bts masterlists | p a r t • o n e | p a r t • t w o ♥ bts reactions/imagines masterlist ♥ ( bts taglist ❜ )

@mikrokookiex; @satinroses11; @bjoriis; @caun2556; @little-miz-fangirl

[97-liners]

manager!jeonghan x fem!celebrity!reader

genres & themes: fake dating but subverted, celebrity au, fluff, rom com, romance

words: 9.5k

warnings: nothing really explicitly described or overly angsty, but mc is a celebrity and was a child star, and several other characters are also celebrities. because of that, there’s mentions of media pressure, paparazzi stalking, questionable managers/parents while she was a child star, body image concerns, dieting, and a generally unhealthy hollywood lifestyle. but i keep everything relatively light! this is definitely not angst!

in which your manager, jeonghan, thinks it’ll be good publicity for you to date hollywood actor and notable heartthrob, joshua hong. of course, everything would be nice and easy if you ended up falling in love with your fake boyfriend joshua, but life is complicated, and your heart ends up pulling you in another direction completely.

feat: hot actor with a heart of gold joshua, eccentric soundcloud rapper vernon, long-suffering personal trainer seungcheol, and angry producer jihoon

title and soundtrack: down to earth - umi 

Keep reading

[milk-moonbunnies]

mdni. bf! Yoongi as your boyfriend

bf! Yoongi, who supports you by default. Your cold toes wiggle under his calf, shocking him since he’d been lying in bed, cozy, hours before you finally decided to join him. You mumble a sleepy apology, ready to move back, but he’s already pulling you closer.

“C’mere,” he mumbles softly, tucking your head into the crook of his neck; your nose is just as cold as your toes when you brush along the curve of his throat, and he suppresses the shiver climbing up his spine in response. Instead, he pulls you even closer, giving you his body heat as you snuggle deeper into him with a dreamy smile.

bf! Yoongi moves quietly. He doesn’t have this need to constantly tell you, “I love you.” He shows it’s when you get home from work, heading to his place because it’s closer, and you were missing him more than usual.

You all but melt into a puddle the moment you step inside his apartment. Your jacket fell to the floor right after you took your shoes off one by one, and you found Yoongi sitting on his couch, less than three seconds after you made a noise of greeting at the front door.

You’re too tired to converse and curl into his side, blinking glossy-eyed up at your man as he takes your hand in his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and sits with you in silence, rubbing your head with one hand as you curl into his lap with a soft sigh, finally relaxing because you're home.

bf! Yoongi doesn’t say he misses you outwardly. Instead, you get a message every few hours asking if you have eaten or drunk enough water today. Eventually, it’s too much for him, and he FaceTimes you when he knows you're home.

He doesn’t speak right away once you answer; his eyes flicker over your face as a little smile twitches on the corner of his lips, getting a good look at you for the first time today. Then he tries to act casual, claiming he wanted to show you some hobbies he’s picked up while away for work.

He shows you a guitar he bought, a cat figurine that looks like Tang, and as he tries to find more things to talk about to stay on FaceTime with you, you’re settling in bed, smiling, because you missed him too.

bf! Yoongi drags his fingers over your body with soft swirls, ghosting over every dip and curve. He maps out from the top of your head, massaging your scalp in smooth carresses that leave you plaint and humming. Then he trails lower, brushing over the slope of your nose, your eyelids, your lips- leaving them tingling while he traces down your neck absentmindedly.

The hum of the air conditioning is the only noise in the room, mixing with your soft breaths and his deep ones, the longer you two lie here. His fingertips swirl in curves, then lines, keeping you balanced between the edge of sleep and feeling more alive in his hands.

Sometimes, when you focus too much on the drawings he makes, you decode messages he tells you against your skin. "I love you" is a favorite of his, and he writes it the most in big loops and deeper pressure, like he's trying to engrave it into your bones in case you somehow don't know it already.

[yoonmetogether]

missed you, baby - a min yoongi oneshot pairing: yoongi x f!reader genre: established relationship summary: it's been rough lately. you're on your period and no matter how much you sleep, you're exhausted and depressed. luckily you have a boyfriend who has no problem busting down your door because he misses you. warnings/tags: just fluff, very sweet, mc’s on her period and dealing with some depression, yoongi is the king of acts of service, i just love to imagine a man who pays attention and gives a fuck wc: 1.7k notes: not proofread or beta'd and i kinda rushed the ending oh well. but be proud that i was able to write something without smut lmao. sorry it's only 1k. thank u to aqua @glossdebut for reading through some of this <333.

You’re so tired. You’ve been lying in bed all day. Really all weekend. The whole entire week was exhausting, work stressful, school draining. And to top it all off, you’re on your period. You haven’t looked at your phone since it died yesterday afternoon. It’s almost 7pm on Saturday. You should charge it. Yoongi hates when you don’t check in after a day or so. But you don’t think you can muster the strength to even move out from under the covers.

Then your doorbell rings and you groan and throw the covers over your head. Maybe someone is just at the wrong door. You can only hope. You miss your boyfriend horribly, but you feel like shit, you haven’t showered, or eaten, or tidied up, and your cramps are killing you. You’re the definition of a hot mess. And he hasn’t seen this kind of hot-mess-you yet.

Closing your eyes, you silently beg whoever’s at the door to go away, but they fly open at the sound of a key turning in your lock and you spring out of bed. Blood rushes down to your legs and up to your head as you rush out of your room because the last thing you need is Yoongi witnessing your rock bottom. He’s stepping out of the foyer, shoes neatly tucked in the corner, by the time you skid into the living room, blanket flailing behind you like a cape.

“Uh, hi,” you greet lamely, moving to get in his way of further entering your apartment. “You couldn’t wait for me to answer?” Fuck, you sound mean. Pms has gotten the best of you.

Despite your tone, he smiles. This guy just has to make it hard to shut him out. “I thought you might be asleep.”

“I wasn’t,” you say, self-consciously wrapping your blanket beneath your neck to hide as much of you as you can.

He turns his snapback backwards, revealing his entire pretty face. “Well, I haven’t heard from you in a few days, my love. I know you need your space, but I need to know that you’re alive. Why else would you give me your spare key?”

“So that you can bring it in case I lose mine.”

He puts his free hand on his hip, leveling you with a playful glare. “I’m your boyfriend, not a locksmith.”

You shrug, and glance over your shoulder, checking to make sure your unkempt living room didn’t manage to become more unkempt just because he showed up.

“Are you gonna let me in or am I just gonna be your food delivery guy?”

“It’s a mess in here. I’m a mess.”

He tilts his head. “Babe, when have I ever cared?”

“I care. I hate that you’re seeing me like this.”

“I just like seeing you. No matter what state you’re in.”

You stand there like a statue as you go to war with yourself because you miss him but you’re having a hard time believing he doesn’t care that it looks like a category 5 tornado ran right through your place.

“It’s not that bad in here,” he says, stepping around you to head for the kitchen. Okay, mind reader. “Just come eat.”

“I’m gonna shower first.”

He just nods and sets the food on the counter to unpack it. Halfway through your glorious shower, you pause when the bathroom door squeaks open. Instinctively, you reach for the handle to adjust the temperature to a cooler one he can stand, expecting him to join you, but you don’t hear his footsteps pad onto the damp, steamy tile. You don’t hear anything.

“What are you doing?”

All you get in response is a closed door. Okay?

After brushing your teeth, washing your face, moisturizing, and changing into clean sweats, you come back into the main area to find Yoongi in the kitchen washing dishes. The washer is running in the corner, half-empty hamper by the end of the counter. You’re horrified, that thing was overflowing, clothes smashed against the wall. And he took it upon himself to start doing your laundry?

“Please don’t clean up after me,” you say in a panic, darting into the kitchen.

“Can’t hear you,” he says, tapping his earbud, and completely ignores your attempts to stop him from scrubbing a plate. You would be annoyed if you weren’t so relieved you don’t have to do your dishes tonight. The least you can do is help.

Side by side, he silently passes you one of his earbuds and you finish up with the dishes and wiping down the counters while listening to his playlist, the one that’s filled with songs you both picked together. You almost start crying when “Mansard Roof” comes on - a song on your playlist that was on in the background when Yoongi first told you he loved you. Corny, you know. But that was the two of you. Before you can reminisce and become more emotional, Yoongi bumps hips with you and loudly sings the lyrics. You shriek when during the bouncing beat of first verse, he grabs your hand and twirls you around, ignoring your shouts of his name as he pulls you into a silly, uncoordinated dance routine. You laugh giddily and the sound surprises you. Leave it to Yoongi to bring out the sun when all you’ve known is rain.

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggle breathlessly when the song ends, pushing at his chest but he remains close. He grins and swoops in for a swift peck.

“You love it.” He turns around for the food before you get the chance to say you love him.

You sit next to him at the island counter, legs tangled together, picking from each other’s bowls. Yoongi makes sure you have enough protein, you give him extra vegetables. As you eat, your cramps slowly creep in and get worse, and they become harder to ignore, but you try your best not to let your pain show.

“Cramps?” Yoongi asks after you start cleaning up.

“You can tell?” How the fuck?

“You make a face.” Oh. You shouldn’t be surprised. Your boyfriend is insanely attentive.

“Need meds?” You shake your head.

“Heating pad?”

“It’s somewhere in my closet.”

“Go get it. I’ll finish up here.”

You can’t get over how good he is to you despite the fact that you ignored him for three days. He brought food, did your dishes and laundry, and twirled you around the kitchen when he hates dancing. Just to make you laugh. He put on your favorite chill playlist while you ate together. He didn’t ask you about your week, didn’t try to push you for answers about why you went MIA. Because he knows you prefer to eat in silence, especially when it’s been a while since you’ve eaten. And he knows when you’re in pain because of a face you make? You really hit the jackpot with him. You need to show him how grateful you are.

When you come back to the kitchen, he’s back at the sink, towel drying the dishes and putting them away. You set the heating pad on the island counter and stride up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek planted on his back.

“I’m sorry I sounded like I didn’t want you here,” you apologize, guilt swimming through you. “I just don’t want you to think I can’t take care of myself.”

He sets down the dishes and swivels around, eyes filled with something that makes you want to shy away as he reaches up to hold your cheek.

“Baby, it’s okay if you can’t sometimes, though. God knows I’ve been there. You know I’ve been there.” You sniffle, remembering the times when you’ve been in his shoes, worrying about his prolonged silence, wondering if he’s okay, if he’s taking care of himself, showing up unprompted to do it for him. You don’t know why it’s hard to accept when he does it for you.

“And I love you, or something, so I want to be there for you.” You glance up to the small smile playing on his lips and it spreads onto yours.

“‘Or something’?”

His gums show under a grin and you can’t help but crack into a full smile. He reaches out to brush the corner of your quirked up lip.

“Love seeing this.”

You’ve known this man for a little over two years and dating him for eight months but he still makes you so, so shy. To hide it, you knock your face into his shoulder, heart melting when his hand smooths up to your neck and his lips press into your temple.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his shirt, tears jumping to your waterline when his scent overwhelms you with comfort.

“Missed you, too, baby,” he says softly.

“And,” you sniff. “I’m really grateful for you.”

He tilts up your chin with a knuckle. “I love you.”

Heart bursting, you lean in and kiss him with a full smile, and he holds both sides of your face as he kisses you back - soft and slow and warm and with a silent promise that he’ll always care.

“Can I stay?” he whispers after you break apart, feeling dazed and like you’re floating on a cloud.

“Please.”

“I’ll even suffer through watching your favorite show,” he sighs exasperatedly. You roll your eyes. Like he doesn’t verbally scrutinize the plot after each episode and make insightful commentary about the characters’ dynamics. 

“You know you’re just as into the drama as I am, stop denying it.”

He shakes his head belligerently. “No.”

Laugh resonating in your chest, you push him towards the living room, curl up with him on the couch under a big, soft blanket, and get into a huge debate about the direction of the cliff hanger.

Hours later, after making your bed together, you crawl under the covers, each on your designated side, and he pulls you into him as you get settled. You nuzzle into his neck and breathe in his intoxicating and soothing scent. You’re so comfortable and safe, and now you have a better reason for not leaving your bed. With his beating heart echoing under your skin and his arms wrapped snugly around you, you find yourself the happiest you’ve been in a while. You could stay like this forever.

“I’m calling out tomorrow,” you declare against his throat. 

“Good,” he yawns. “I already did.”

You kiss him in a silent thank you. As you get settled, his hand finds yours under the covers and tangles your fingers together. You go to sleep wondering how many times he can make you fall in love.

.

.

.

bc i haven't posted in a while <3 kinda self indulgent i wrote this when my period was killing me

[mingyusgfr]

captured

content: soft obsession, domestic intimacy, established relationship

he takes pictures of you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

not in a loud way — wonwoo never is — but in this quiet, constant need to keep you.

his camera is always around his neck or slipping from his fingers, and you’re always, always the subject. your hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. your reflection on a window. the way your hair falls when you laugh without noticing. the way you look at him when you think he isn’t paying attention.

he always is.

“don’t move,” he murmurs, lifting the camera, eyes soft behind the lens. click.

you roll your eyes, smiling anyway. “you already have, like, a thousand photos of me.”

“not enough,” he answers immediately. no hesitation. like it’s obvious.

and it is.

there’s one of you folded carefully inside his wallet, edges worn from how often he takes it out without realizing. another tucked into the corner of his bedside table, half-hidden behind a book — the first photo he ever took of you, blurry and imperfect, his favorite. his phone? a mess of you. candid shots, sleepy selfies, screenshots of video calls, tiny moments he refuses to delete.

his wallpaper changes sometimes. it’s always you.

when you catch him looking at his phone with that small, private smile, you already know why.

“you’re staring again,” you tease, climbing onto the bed beside him.

he locks the screen but doesn’t deny it. instead, he reaches for you, fingers hooking into your belt loop, pulling you closer until your knees bump his.

“you looked pretty today,” he says, voice low. sincere. devastating.

“i look pretty every day,” you reply, smug.

he nods. “that’s the problem.”

you laugh, leaning in to kiss him, slow and warm. he kisses you back like he’s memorizing the feeling, one hand still holding the camera, the other firm on your waist. when he pulls back, he lifts the lens again.

click.

“wonwoo—”

“just one more,” he murmurs, already smiling. “i like remembering you happy.”

later, when you’re asleep, he scrolls through the photos quietly, thumb gentle against the screen. his heart feels too full, chest tight in that way that only happens when love goes too deep.

you, everywhere.

his pockets. his phone. his room. his life.

completely. helplessly. permanently.

his.

© mingyusgfr

[100vern]

HER NAME IS NOELLE; I HAD A DREAM ABOUT HER. ── .✦ vernon chwe as: teenage dirtbag by wheatus

base ver. without magazine/plastic overlays as always :)

dedicated to my number one vernon as teenage dirtbag enthusiast @sailorsoons. tysm to @haologram & @imnotshua who convinced me this song was the way to go after i agonized over which one to pick for him for literal weeks. ♡

[xinganhao]

KISS AND MAKE UP ─── starring: vernon.

your boyfriend has never given you a reason to doubt him. but, lately, things have just been a little bit... off? (commissioned!!!)

this was commissioned as part of donations made to philippine typhoon relief efforts!!! › scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[thepixelelf]

ah! love - birthday wishes

genres: married life au, family au, fluff, a bit of angst! but we know it ends up okay (best friends to lovers) relationship: husbands 95 line x reader (feat. baby doremi line) words: 3.9k warnings: alcohol notes: sooooooo let's all agree to pretend I posted this on 0808 lol... genuinely I started writing this in aug 2024 and didn't finish it until now knowing that I could NOT leave it until aug 2026... also the babies aren't as prominent in this chapter-- idk if people are bigger fans of the hubbies or the babies in this series so let me know if you want more doremi kids content!

ah! love masterlist

Seungcheol forgets what day it is.

Whatever the opposite of the energy of a thousand burning suns is, Seungcheol wakes up with that.

Groggily, he blinks twice, trying and failing to block out the sunlight streaming through his bedroom windows. It takes him six or seven more blinks on top of that to realize that today's a work day, and he absolutely shouldn't be seeing the sunlight like this at all because, oh, shit, he was supposed to be up and getting ready at five-thirty.

Launching himself out of bed, Seungcheol speed runs his way through his morning routine — he skips practically everything except changing and running his hands through his hair so it looks like he only walked through one hurricane and not five. When that's done, he nearly tumbles down the stairs while trying to shove a hopefully clean sock on his right foot, but he catches himself on the hand rail before he can fall on his ass in front of an audience of zero.

Or so he thought.

From a seat at the kitchen island, you chuckle at his recovery position, (one hand on the railing, one hand still clutching his sock, and one leg just sticking out in the air,) hiding your wide smile behind a coffee mug which proudly asserts you as world’s best dad.

Seungcheol’s mouth drops open. “You’re still home?”

Nodding, you take a sip from your (or his; or Jeonghan’s; or Joshua’s) mug. “Nothing going on for me today.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Seungcheol pouts as he finally slips on his sock.

You push yourself from the counter and make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing a soft kiss to his jawline. “It’s been such a long week for you. I thought you could use the rest today.”

His pout deepens, but his arms can only do one thing when you’re near him, and that’s holding you close. “But…”

“I already called Inho,” you explain, bringing your hand up to play with the hair that hangs in front of Seungcheol’s eyes. “He said he’s got everything sorted for the morning but told me to tell you, Mr Everything Has To Be Perfect, that he knows you’ll want to give the final say on the… what was it? The Hsu contract?”

About to nuzzle his face in your neck, Seungcheol jerks back. “Wait? The Hsu— That should’ve been closed yesterday—!”

You chuckle again, twisting away to swipe a set of car keys off the counter. “I need the Blueberry today, so I’ll drop you off, yeah?”

You hand him a thermos that he knows contains coffee just the way he likes it, and just like that, he’s off to his office with you at the wheel.

“The twins—” he says when the caffeine finally sets in.

“Are at their summer camp,” you tell him, cool as a cucumber in the freezer. “It's butterfly day today, so Joshua made sure they brought their watercolours with them.”

“Chan—” he says.

“Went with Jeonghan to visit grandma and grandpa Yoon. Hayoung is making yakgwa, which I'm sure Chan will be ecstatic about.”

Seunghcheol bristles only a little, glancing at himself in the side view mirror and tucking away the pout he didn’t know he was making until he saw his reflection. “I like Hayoung eomoni’s yakgwa…” he mumbles, totally nonchalant.

“Do you?” Not taking your eyes off the road, you smile. “Hm. I didn’t know that. Maybe they can bring some back for you.”

Seungcheol bristles again, but only because he takes great pride in being Yoon Hayoung’s favourite. Well. Okay. After Chan, Seungkwan, and Vernon… Hayoung’s fourth favourite. Shit, wait, fifth after you. Maybe sixth after Jeonghan. But solidly sixth, at least, ever since the great kitty escape of 2022.

Suck it, Joshua.

Wherever his standing, Hayoung eomoni knows he loves her yakgwa — almost to the point where you had to confiscate them a few years ago, lest he get a heaven-disguised devil of a stomachache.

Don’t you remember that? You’re usually so attentive.

“I wouldn’t say no to an extra piece,” he says casually. “Or two.”

You grin. “Or ten? Or a hundred?”

Turning to you again, he narrows his eyes. “So you do remem—”

“Well!” You throw the Blueberry into park right in front of his building. “Have a great day at work, babe. Joshua will come pick you up when you’re done, okay?”

And just like that, Seungcheol is standing in front of his office building, thermos of coffee in one hand and his attaché in the other. He watches you drive off, but in the back of his mind, he can’t help thinking something isn’t right.

He gasps.

“The Hsu contract!” Seungcheol dashes through the front doors, vaulting up the stairs two at a time towards his office. For some reason, the floors leading up seem abandoned, but none of that registers to him while his brain tunnel-visions on the contract that was supposed be done and over with by now because he wasn’t even meant to have to worry about anything today because it’s—

Seungcheol’s entire body freezes right as he uses two fingers to grab the door handle to his office.

Oh. It’s his—

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

The door in front of him swings open, revealing all the missing employees from the other floors crammed into his office. Confetti flutters over him, and people in colourful conical hats start singing while simultaneously chuckling at his dumbfounded expression.

Still in a state of shock, Seungcheol zones in on one specific man in the room, who’s leaning on his desk with a huge smile. “Inho,” Seungcheol mutters. “The… Hsu contract?”

This causes Inho to laugh, and he pushes himself off Seungcheol’s desk so he can walk up to him. He puts an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulders and leads him further into his office, where a black forest cake with way too many candles sits where his keyboard normally is. “Now, what kind of right-hand man would I be if that wasn’t signed and delivered exactly as planned?” He puts his free hand over his heart and pouts. “Do you have so little faith in me?”

“No— no, I just…”

Inho laughs again and pats Seungcheol’s shoulder. “I’m just playing with you. Your partners said it’d be a surefire way to get you here without suspecting anything.”

Seungcheol’s brows scrunch together just as the crowd around him cheers him on to blow out the fire hazard on top of his cake. After waving away the resulting smoke, he looks back up at Inho. “You… conspired with my partners?”

“All in good fun, of course,” Inho defends playfully. “I may be your right-hand, but I obviously don’t know you as well as they do. I mean— I never would’ve guessed it. I thought there was no way you’d forget it’s your own birthday.”

⭒-⭒-⭒

“There’s no way they forgot it’s your birthday,” Joshua tried to placate him to no avail. Seungcheol was already drunker than he’d be if you were here at the bar & grill they’d chosen for his party, and that was saying something.

The unfortunate thing was that Seungcheol was not typically a sulky drunk. He could get sulky enough with zero percent alcohol in his system, anyway. On any other night dedicated to fun and letting go and drinking until all the problems of being twenty-something disappear, (at least until morning,) Seungcheol would be the giggly drunk. He’d be standing on top of chairs and patting his friends’ backs and yelling, “Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” all the way into the witching hour.

But he wasn’t, and he hated how both Joshua and Jeonghan, who had said almost the exact same thing as Joshua an hour ago (when Seungcheol had questioned for the fourth or fifth time where you were,) knew exactly why he was sulking in a lonely booth.

Said booth wasn’t part of their reservation, but Seungcheol could tell that the lady who ran the grill didn’t want to approach him, the pity in her eyes making Seungcheol feel all the more pathetic.

He didn’t bother responding to Joshua’s words because he knew it to be nothing but the truth. There was no way you forgot it was his birthday. He would never admit it out loud — because that would just ruin the bit — but he was always annoying about it. He’d spring a pop quiz on stuff like it: his likes and dislikes, his middle name (trick question!), et cetera et cetera, every once in a while. And even if you didn’t realize it, he cared the most whether you got the answers right over anyone else. You always did, though. Somehow, you knew him better than anyone, and even though you did know his birthday and the way he liked his eggs and that he hated acupuncture shoes despite wearing them because he had to acknowledge their merits, you knew one thing above all.

He cared that you cared.

His call went straight to voicemail again, and he had to stop himself from throwing his phone onto a burning grill.

Joshua sighed and held out his hand. “Give me that.”

Pouting already, Seungcheol held his phone, suddenly precious to him, tight against his chest. “No.”

“Their phone must be dead,” Joshua reasoned, wagging his fingers for him to hand the thing over. “You know how they are. I got them that stupid expensive power bank, and they still manage to forget it every time. C’mon, give it here. You’re only gonna bum yourself out.”

Seungcheol just scrunched his shoulders, shielding himself by turning further into the empty booth. “No…”

“Seungcheol—”

“They’re coming,” Jeonghan interrupted. He stepped up to the table beside Joshua and grabbed the half-empty soju bottle sitting on top of it. If Seungcheol wasn’t so busy protecting his phone from Joshua’s greedy fingers, he would've snatched it back, but instead, his eyes lit up as he looked at his friend.

As soon as his hope flared, though, hurt flared just as bright. “They told you?” he asked, and all three of them could hear his subconscious thought.

And not me?

“No,” Jeonghan quickly amended. “I just know them. And so do you.”

Joshua nodded despite the concerned look on his face as Jeonghan continued.

“They wouldn’t miss your birthday, and besides, they’ve still got—” He glanced at his watch, a simple black piece save for the worn out devil emoji sticker only the four of you know is stuck to the underside of the face. “—at least forty-five minutes before midnight hits. You do know it’s still the seventh, right?”

Seungcheol shook his head, brows furrowed. “Just because it’s not my birthday doesn’t mean it’s not my birthday…”

“You’re drunk, Seungcheol.” Jeonghan ruffled his hair like he would to a dog he’d just denied human food to. In kind, Seungcheol snarled and swatted his hand away.

It wasn’t the best his hair had ever looked. Overgrown jet black roots flowed into a faded silver-ish blond, but when his natural hair colour had started growing back, you’d said it was hot on him. It was just one of your every day sort of throwaway compliments, but still. Seungcheol kept putting off setting another hair appointment for some reason.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Finally able to catch him distracted, Joshua snatched Seungcheol’s phone and stashed it in his back pocket. “Go have fun with all the friends we invited here for you and stop sulking over whether or not they’re coming because they will.” He put a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “You trust them, don’t you?”

He did.

But your absence still weighed down on him, even when he rejoined everyone at the table and managed to get another beer. Especially when he noticed Wonwoo’s eyes darting around, caught his gaze, and then had to get up and sit somewhere else when Wonwoo shyly asked if you were coming.

Wonwoo wasn’t a bad guy. Not by far.

But sometimes Seungcheol would catch him looking at you in a certain way that made his completely unrelated chest pain act up.

So even though it was nearing midnight, and his whole thing was getting all wound up about people not wishing him happy birthday as soon as the clock hits 00:00, Seungcheol decided he needed a breather. He stepped outside, absently listened to the cheerful gabbing that leaked from the bar and grill, and wondered if — like the guy outside of the restaurant across the street — cigarettes were what he needed at a time like this.

(But you hated the smell and coughed like a sickly Victorian child when you got too close to a lit cigarette, so maybe not.)

Instead, Seungcheol patted at his pockets for his phone, only to remember that the little shit Joshua stole it. He looked at his watch — 23:54 — and sighed, tilting his head back to look at the night sky. There were no stars in sight, not in a big city like this.

Next birthday, maybe he’ll go past the outskirts, just so he can make a wish. It’ll be quieter, with fresher air, and he won’t get drunk. He could just lay back and admire the starry expanse of the August sky. (And check for birthday messages in the morning.)

He could bring you.

But would you even come? Maybe his birthday didn’t mean as much to you as he wanted it to.

No, he shouldn’t think like that.

Or should he?

23:58

Inside, voices arose in search of him, but Seungcheol shifted sideways so he couldn’t be seen through the front windows. He didn’t know why, exactly, he didn’t want to be part of his own celebration, but his eyes were drawn downhill, following the street in the direction of your place. His shoulders rose and fell with another sigh, his hands in his pockets, and the noise inside the bar went up in volume. Someone shouted his name, calling him the grandpa of the group, which he knew would haunt him until Jeonghan’s birthday in October, and okay, maybe he should just go back.

“Seungcheeeooooool!”

Your voice enraptured him immediately, and he whipped around in the opposite direction of your apartment to see you rushing down the slanted street. Too fast.

(The bar and grill’s placement on a steep street had caused many a drunken tumble in the past, but the food was so good and so affordable that it was a mainstay for you and his friends.)

Without thinking, Seungcheol opened his arms and braced his legs, grunting when you slammed into him. His arms wrapped around you, but your head pulled back, and he saw your out-of-breath expression right when you said, “I didn’t miss it, right?”

Using one hand on his chest to balance yourself, you grabbed at his left wrist, lifting it to check the time. A couple seconds from midnight. “Aha!” You grinned like a madman, keeping your eyes on his watch as it counted up. As soon as the seventh turned into the eighth, your smile widened, and you met his gaze again. “Happy birthday, Seungcheol.”

He kept his right arm exactly where it was. For a second, all he did was blink. “Where were you?”

“Getting your gift!” You brought up the hand that had held his wrist, and he finally noticed the patterned bag hanging from your elbow. “Remember that signing event you couldn’t get into?”

“The what?”

“You know… the soccer one.” There was a spark of pride in the way your lips quirked up, and Seungcheol’s eyes widened.

“You mean— no way.”

Stepping back, you slipped the handles of the gift bag down to your hand and held it up right in front of him. “See for yourself.”

Unable to help himself, Seungcheol snatched the bag from you as you giggled at his enthusiasm. He quickly and then carefully scooped out an encased, display quality soccer ball — his soccer ball that his mom told him must’ve gotten lost when she did her spring cleaning months ago. And smack dab in the middle of it was a black sharpie signature.

“No fucking way,” he whispered. “Son Heungmin signed my ball?” He looked up at you, incredulous. “You don’t even like soccer. That event sold out in seconds.”

You shrugged, tilting your head and swaying in that sort of yeah, I’m a pretty big deal manner. “I have my ways.”

“But…” Seungcheol turned the case around in his hands, still a bit unable to believe it. And even then, for some reason, it wasn’t the most important thing to him at that moment. “That was supposed to be a week ago.”

He stopped himself from asking why you were almost late. You were allowed to be. You weren’t his.

Unfortunately, you could read him like a neon sign. “I’m sorry,” you said, stepping closer with a regretful look on your face. Your hand came up to lightly touch his arm. “The signing got pushed back a week because the guy got sick, and the only return flight I could book was already cutting it close. Then my phone died — I can’t believe I forgot Joshua’s power bank again — and the cabbie never heard of this place and I couldn’t look up the address… I just gave him the nearest street I could think of and ran. But hey, I still made it, right?”

Smiling, you patted his arm almost like it was another apology. “I guess I missed a lot, though. And you guys were probably worrying about me because I couldn’t answer my phone.”

Seungcheol didn’t miss the fact that you weren’t only talking about him, but Jeonghan and Joshua too. For some reason, his chest started hurting again.

“Hey, okay, okay.” You must’ve noticed his expression and mistook it for his usual sulking. To placate him, you stepped even closer and wrapped both your arms around his torso, careful not to knock over the soccer ball still balanced on one of his hands. “How about I give you two gifts. This one—” You nodded at the ball. “—for your birthday, and whatever you want as my apology. An extra birthday wish.”

He held his breath. You were so close that he could count your eyelashes.

“Hm?” You tilted your head and raised your eyebrows, and Seungcheol could feel himself getting dizzy. “Got anything in mind?”

Slowly, Seungcheol nodded, letting his free hand drift back to its place around you. His eyes glanced downward.

“Seungcheol?” you whispered.

He leaned closer.

“Devil.”

Almost too innocently, you pulled away, tilting to the side to see Jeonghan exiting the bar, unsurprisingly followed by Joshua. 

“What happened to you?” Jeonghan asked. He stepped up to the both of you, draping an arm over Seungcheol’s shoulder. He couldn’t quite tell, but it almost felt like Jeonghan was trying to hold him back, all the while not looking away from you. “We’ve been trying to contact you all night.”

You let out a soft breath and smiled. “It’s a long story.”

Joshua jerked his head in the direction of the door. “Come on in. I ordered your favourite.” His gaze switched to Seungcheol. “You too old man.”

“Yah, who are you calling old?”

You laughed, and Jeonghan chose to hang himself off you instead, pulling you toward the restaurant. Joshua followed. 

Seungcheol stayed rooted to his spot, but he felt himself unfreeze when you looked back at him and held out your hand. He took one last look at the starless sky.

Next year. On his next birthday, he’ll make his wish.

⭒-⭒-⭒

“So?” Joshua smirks as soon as Seungcheol gets into the Blueberry’s passenger seat. “Have you thought of this year’s wish?”

He crosses his arms and makes a point of looking out the window. “Maybe that my partners don’t trick me into thinking a huge deal is about to fall through.”

“Oh, c’mon. That was funny and cute and you know it. Besides, your favourite person basically plotted the whole thing, so if you’re gonna get all sulky, you should do it at them.”

Brow raised, Seungcheol peeks over at Joshua as he drives. “It wasn’t you and Jeonghan?”

A small laugh escapes Joshua’s nose, and as if just the thought of you is warm, his smile softens. “I know you love us too, but only they’d be able to fool you with that little ruse. You’re way too wary of us.”

Well, he can’t argue with that.

“Speaking of,” Joshua says, “Obviously you know what’s going on, but you gotta prepare your shocked face for the boys. They learned what surprise parties are yesterday, and they’ve practically been bouncing up and down in excitement.” He glances over at him and smirks again. “Maybe you should practice now.”

Wary — because of course he is — Seungcheol eyes the blackbox camera of the car. “Are you recording me?”

⭒

The boys yell, “Surprise!” and jump out from behind various furniture, dashing toward Seungcheol as he crouches down to pull the little misfits into his arms. They laugh at his shocked expression and “oh my gosh I had no idea!” and the way he pretends to fall over from their affection until their cheeks go red, and Chan only lets go to run over to the kitchen, grab a bowl of homemade yakgwa from your outstretched hands, and bring it back to Seungcheol with a proud smile.

“For you!” he cheers, lifting the bowl with both hands. Seungcheol ruffles his soft black hair as thanks and then tosses a piece in his mouth, taking a moment to look up at you.

As you watch the whole exchange from the sidelines, you lean against the kitchen counter with a look that you only wear when everyone is together. Happiness comes in many forms for Seungcheol’s family, but he loves this one on you a lot. 

Chan almost drops his precious bowl when Joshua mentions making a “special surprise birthday lunch,” but Jeonghan swoops in to save both the bowl and Chan from tumbling to the floor. He and Joshua hype up making sandwiches to the kids — Seungkwan wants icing on his and Vernon wants baked beans — but it’s clear that the ulterior motive is to get Seungcheol a tiny reprieve with you. A little gift from the two of them.

“Happy birthday,” you say softly as soon as he nears, wrapping your arms around his middle. 

He gladly returns the embrace. “That was a mean prank,” he whispers.

“Was it?” You tilt your head with that smile he loves so much. “But you were so cute this morning.”

He pulls you closer. “Still. It’s my birthday, you know.”

“You’re the one who didn’t know, silly.”

His lips purse into a pout, and you chuckle, tightening your arms around him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll make it up to you. How about an extra birthday wish? Got anything in mind?”

“You know what I’m going to ask for.” He pinches your side.

Flinching with another chuckle, you lean just a little bit closer. “Maybe. It’s just the only thing you’ve used your wishes on since… how long ago now?”

He doesn’t know off the top of his head, and to be honest, it doesn’t matter right now. All he cares about is knowing he’s going to get his wish again, and next year, too. And on every birthday of his from now on.

“So?” you tease. “What’s your wish?”

He pulls you snug against him, right where you're supposed to be, and Seungcheol smiles with all the love he has to give.

“Kiss me.”

[thepixelelf]

tagging people who've reblogged with comments 💕 luv you guys 💕

@stayinhellevator @dalkyeom @woozipedia @lilianborussen @starstruckforyou @totomoshi @flowershu @berryshuasz @s00nyoungie @bokkxsu @ily0s4mu @snameful @thelost-soul @kkakkameori @sebongica @jnginlov @doodlelibrary @wooahaes @neuviloved @akemiixx01 @mookipookie @sousydive @neejaatjeh @minkwans @testingrikas @trifliz @baedreamverse @vaztori @calicoups @itshaibaby @softycheol @sanooshinee @sarcasticsweetlara @hakunagis @gyubakeries @valenhui @hidinjo @silver-liner @wooahaejihoon @ellauuuuveee

[mnginlov]

aaaaaa thanks for the tag! i missed this lil series (also the timing is crazy considering i have a special scoups wip going rn lol)

[mnginlov]

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