Summary: when yunho was tasked by his professor to keep an eye on you, he'd never thought it would change his entire world. you were the quiet, weird girl, the one people only referred to as "the ghost". he was the exact opposite of you. and yet, yunho felt drawn to you like a moth to a flame. but would you ever let him get close to you?
Pairing: jeong yunho x reader
Genre: college au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, eventual smut
Wordcount: final work maybe about 10k?
Warnings: none for the teaser
A/N: guess whose lazy ass is back on tumblr😎 its me... sorry for disappearing again and only coming back with a teaser😔🥲 anyways, if you like this i would really appreciate a comment to help boost my motivation to finish this, love you all and stay safe <33 divider belongs to @firefly-graphics
College wasn’t exactly what Yunho expected when he first got here. He honestly thought it would be louder - more parties, more chaos, more sex and lust and all that shit you see in movies. And sure, there was some of that, especially with friends like San dragging him into the occasional frat party or Mingi insisting on midnight karaoke sessions in their shared kitchen with girls he knew he wouldn't ever see again. But in between all that noise, his college days mostly consisted of… nothing. Just classes, classes, even more classes, and studying his ass off for exams.
He liked the quiet more than he let on. Not that he minded being social - he was good at it, naturally drawn to people, and the people were naturally drawn to him. But sometimes, there was something more fascinating in the silences than in all the talking.
Psychology became his favorite class for exactly that reason. It gave him an excuse to watch people. Not in a creepy way - just to study them, understand them without them talking to him directly. He was good at reading body language, at picking up on shifts in tone or flickers of emotion people tried to hide from the world. It made him feel powerful, like he could get inside someone’s world without needing a key.
He never expected to be asked to do exactly that, though.
When Professor Nam stopped him after class, Yunho thought it was to remind him of the midterm. Yet to his surprise, the older man had leaned back against his desk, arms folded, eyes serious beneath his ridiculously thick glasses. Not that Yunho had ever seen his professor be anything but serious - he taught a very serious subject after all - but he quickly understood that this was something different.
“There’s a student I’m a little concerned about,” he’d said.
And that’s when it all started. With a name Yunho didn’t recognize, and a simple request that didn’t feel all that simple at all. Yunho hadn’t expected to be assigned a mission like this when he walked into his class that day. It was a Wednesday - or was it? - a normal day, so normal he in fact didn’t even know the date.
“Just… keep an eye on her for me, will ya?” Professor Nam had said with a slight smile. “She's brilliant, but I worry. Never says a word in class, never socializes with anyone. I just want to make sure she's okay.”
He’d agreed, of course. How could he not? He liked helping people. He liked knowing people, too. Especially that. That’s why he was surprised he hadn’t even realized you were in the same class as him, and that he'd never once even seen your face.
But there you were. First row, always the same seat, with your back perfectly straight, and your eyes always straight forward.
Yunho noticed the little things first.
You flinched when someone spoke too loud near you. Your whole body tensed every time someone sat too close. You left exactly two minutes before class ended, quietly packing and vanishing while the professor was still mid-sentence. No one could ever catch you in the hallway. No one even knew where you sat in the cafeteria - if you even ate there.
For the first few days, Yunho thought you were just borderline shy and awkward. But no, it wasn’t that. It was avoidance. You were avoiding everyone and everything and, well, it was clearly working.
He didn’t approach you right away. Even though he barely knew you, he had a feeling you would definitely not like that. So, he started sitting nearby instead. Not next to you - never that. Just close enough to observe.
Seonghwa, Mingi and San questioned him on his new seat choice, but he just brushed them off. They didn't bother asking more questions, and he didn't bother explaining things to them.
And then one morning, you weren’t there before him.
Instead, you entered the lecture hall three minutes late - yes, he looked at his watch for that. Your hair was damp from the rain. Your breath quick, like you’d been running. You looked at your usual seat - someone else had taken it, and from the way your eyebrows scrunched Yunho knew you were not pleased with that - and then at the surrounding ones.
Yunho watched your eyes flicker. Panic took over your features, but you quickly pushed that emotion aside.
He shifted slightly in his seat, clearing his throat.
You turned. Your eyes met for the first time ever.
He nodded once and moved his bag.
It was an invitation. He hoped you would take it.
You hesitated, let your eyes wander through the whole room. Then sighed and finally walked over.
You sat down without a word, without even sparing him a glance.
Yet still, Yunho smiled to himself.
Step one: done. He didn't care that you didn't even say thank you. In fact, Yunho didn’t expect you to. He didn’t expect anything at all, really. And so he didn't take it to heart when you didn’t even acknowledge him further.
But as the lecture went on, he noticed even more details about you; how you kept your arms extremely close to your body, or how you took notes in tiny, almost imperceptible handwriting, as if trying not to take up space even on the page.
In the background, Professor Nam asked some questions, something about behavioral psychology, but Yunho’s focus had shifted completely. At his usual spot three rows back he usually had the luxury of zoning out whenever he wanted. But here, next to you, he was wide awake and paying attention - well, not at the subject currently being taught, but that's whatever.
You didn’t glance at him once. Not when he shifted to cross his legs. Not when he reached into his bag. Not even when someone in the back dropped their water bottle and the entire room jolted from the noise.
But your fingers twitched, and he saw how the noise frightened you.
He remembered what the professor said.
“I just want to make sure she's okay.”
And right now, sitting next to you, Yunho realized that he definitely didn't have an answer to that.
Class ended, and before he could even blink away the sleep trying to tire him down, you had already moved. Still no glance towards anyone, and definitely not a single word spoken. Your pen was capped, notebook shut, and bag over your shoulder before the professor could even wrap up the last sentence.
But this time, Yunho was ready.
He grabbed his things - almost tripped over his own feet in the process, but let's ignore that - and followed you suit.
Not too close - he didn’t want to scare you. Just enough to keep you in view. He was tall, so his steps were long and he didn't need to hurry. He even slowed them and let you lead.
You turned sharply, slipping through the side exit that hardly anyone used. Down the narrow hallway behind the auditorium, through a quiet back stairwell that was so dirty Yunho swore he could practically taste the dirt in the air. He realized something then: you knew how to disappear.
But you didn’t look back.
You either hadn’t noticed him… or you had, and didn’t care.
At the bottom of the stairs, you pushed open the door into the courtyard. It was still raining, though only slightly. You tugged your hair that usually covered most of your face into your hood and began to run into the rain.
And still, he followed.
Yunho was starting to feel weird about it. This definitely wasn’t part of the plan. He was supposed to talk to you, to try and befriend you, not… track you through campus like some creepy stalker.
So he picked up the pace.
“Hey!” he called out.
You stopped.
Slowly, you turned your head. Hood still up, eyes barely visible beneath the shadow. You looked at him like a deer caught in headlights.
He jogged the rest of the way to close the distance, pausing a few steps in front of you, hands in his pockets to seem non-threatening.
“Uh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, and scratched the back of his neck. “Just noticed you were late today. That’s not like you.”
You stared at him.
He waited.
One second.
Two seconds.
… Three seconds.
Still nothing.
“…I’m Yunho. Jeong Yunho. We’ve had a bunch of classes together.”
Nothing. No reply. He didn't even see you blink once which was honestly a little creepy.
God, this was harder than he thought.
“…You okay?”
There. That word again. Okay. Were you okay?
You blinked. Then slowly, your lips parted, closed, then parted again.
And a quiet voice - so quiet he barely heard it - said:
can i get a name for your drink? yeah, peter parker
genre: delinquent!ateez x bubble tea worker!reader, meet-cute, high school au, fluff, crack
length: 6.6k
c/w: cliche depictions of high school delinquents, mentions of smoking, drugs and clubs, boys trying to act tough, everybody has bad humour, swearing is their mother tongue
synopsis: a bubble tea shop is one of the last places you would expect for a high school delinquent to walk into during the dead of night. yet here you are, forming an unlikely friendship with not one but eight of them. they may be kind of stupid, but they also kind of grow on you.
a/n: a fic with no angst? a fic without a 40k wc?? new writer who dis. just a short and sweet fic @sorryimananti-romantic helped prod me to write
you know that you are probably shaving a couple months off your lifespan each time you work a night shift at the bubble tea shop and subsequently fuck up your entire sleep routine for the next couple of days, but it gives you a bit of extra money, there are hardly any customers, and it is quiet enough that you can squeeze in some studying at the same time.
the shop probably averages about two couples and a few odd individuals here and there per night. why a small business would even decide to stay open during ghost hours in the first place, likely making negative profit, you have no idea. but you digress–you are just here to bum around for money.
so when your average customer number suddenly spikes not just by one, two or three people, but by an entire group of eight, it is safe to say you are more than confused. they are obviously your age because you can recognise the school crest embroidered onto the front pocket of their uniform shirts; it is one of the nearby high schools in the area. except, that is where the similarity ends.
only half of them are wearing their uniform, and even then they layer it unbuttoned over bold statement t-shirts like it is a mere accessory. the others wear black tracksuits and there is not a single pair of proper school shoes to be seen. your eyes cannot help but scan their pierced ears and obviously-styled hairstyles–you are pretty sure the shortest boy has dyed his hair a lighter shade of brown too.
it is hard to take your attention off of him as he takes one last drag of the cigarette in his hand, lazily blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth before he flicks the butt onto the floor outside and steps in through the door along with the others. you idly wonder how he got his hands on a fake id to purchase cigarettes in the first place, but at least he is polite about not smoking inside your store.
the group saunters up and you startle slightly as the boy at the front slaps his hand against the counter with the matching confidence to his glorified 6 foot height to demand, “give me a double shot of espresso.” he pulls away his hand to reveal a mismatched assortment of sad coins and crumpled notes.
“we, uh–” you glance not so subtly at the wall-sized menu behind you and the LED lighting decor sprawled across the other three walls with the phrases, ‘you’re a cu-tea’, ‘you’re pearl-fect’, and ‘you’re my bo-bae’, and wonder what gave these boys the impression they could order coffee. “we don’t sell coffee,” you state.
he does not seem fazed by your words at all. “can’t you just, like, charge me for your most expensive drink and make me a coffee?” he asks his absurd question with practiced ease, which makes you think that this is not his first rodeo.
unfortunately for him though, you deadpan, “i physically can’t. we don’t have a coffee machine.”
the boy’s expression finally cracks a little and you can literally see the cogs slowing down to a stop inside his brain. “aw, fuck,” he swears, “this worked last time.”
one his friends shrugs callously and snickers, “what did i say, mingi. told you they wouldn’t have one.”
“shut up, jongho,” he gripes in response.
you gesture vaguely at the laminated menu on the counter beside the cash register. “would you like something else to drink?” you offer.
the tall boy–mingi–takes all but one look at the barrage of words before his eyes flicker back up towards you. “recommend something.”
“depends on what you’re feeling,” you hum your scripted question, pointing to the different sections of the menu. “do you want something fruity or milky?”
he looks constipated as he weighs the two options. “fruity?” he eventually settles, still sounding unsure. “what’s good?”
at the question, all of their eyes turn to look at you intently and you feel yourself wilting internally at the thought of explaining the drinks to a group of boys that look like outright delinquents, because if there is one downside to working here apart from the crippling health impacts, it is the loss of your dignity each time you have to say the stupid names of the drinks.
“well,” you clear your throat and steel yourself, “we’ve got the bubbly butterfly blues, a purple grape and blueberry fruit ade, or the mysterious mermaid magic, a mango and passionfruit green tea with rainbow pearls.” you forge on with your explanations despite the furrowed brows and open mouths of judgement on their faces, deciding to give them a recommendation for a milky drink too just in case. “the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles is also pretty popular. it’s a strawberry milk tea with whipped cream, sprinkles and marshm–”
“i’ll take that one,” mingi interrupts, unable to stand the onslaught of words that make the world around him explode into pink glitter. he drops an additional crinkled note onto the counter for good measure and then strides away to take a seat at the table in the furthest corner of the store to wait for his cutesy drink.
half a snort escapes the back of your throat at the sight. mingi may as well hold a megaphone to his mouth and shout “i am a manly man!” to make himself feel better. what an idiot.
you shift your attention to the rest of the group. “anything i can get for you guys?” you ask.
“fuck it, why not,” the one who had been smoking shrugs immediately. “get me the same thing he’s getting.”
most of the others pass and step away to join mingi at the table as you sort out the payment for delinquent number two’s cutesy drink. when you close the cash register–you are tempted to ask them why they have so many loose coins–the last two of the boys sidle up to the other side of the counter, peering down carefully at the menu.
you frown.
these two are actually wearing their uniform properly, only the first buttons of their shirt undone, no brightly-coloured tee peeking out from underneath, ties still around their neck and shirts tucked into their pants. they are even wearing their name tags; kang yeosang and park seonghwa. also, apart from the fact that the two appear prim and proper enough to be part of the student council, they are also very pretty.
said two look up at you, catch the frown across your face, fumble a little, then give you a small smile as a peace offering. “hi,” seonghwa greets softly, “can we get two regular pearl milk teas, please? thank you.”
you physically recoil.
“blink twice if you’re being threatened,” you blurt out, the words tumbling unwisely out of your mouth before you can stop them and definitely loud enough that all eight of the boys can hear you.
blink twice seonghwa and yeosang do, but not as a confirmation that the stark difference in their appearance and demeanour to the others is a sign they are being bullied into hanging out. they blink to ask–very respectfully–what the fuck you are on about.
they blink at you. you blink at them. the other boys blink at the three of you.
“sure thing!” you vocally sweep your own words under the rug. “two regular pearl milk teas coming right up!”
you swipe yeosang’s payment out of his hands–notes and coins carefully counted out to the exact amount–and punch the number into the cashier before swiftly turning your back to them to make their drinks. if you ignore something hard enough then it never happened. and it works, because they retreat to join the rest of their friends at the furthest table without further comment.
it does not take long to make all four of their drinks, but you do take a few extra minutes to carefully swirl the whipped cream on top of the strawberry milk tea orders and artistically shower them with sprinkles and marshmallows. you want to make them as cute as you fucking possibly can just for mingi.
“two rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles and two regular pearl milk teas,” you call out.
they all stand up, likely ready to leave once they grab their drinks. mingi leads the group with his long strides and he picks up his drink with one hand. he holds it up to eye level to study it like an unknown specimen and the moment he picks it up, one of his friends–you think you overheard the others call him wooyoung–cannot help but blurt out with distaste, “that shit looks sweet as fuck.”
mingi holds his drink closer to his body with a light glare because hey, it does look sweet as fuck but it also actually looks really good. and kind of cute, he will admit. he takes a tentative sip through the straw then a small lick of the whipped cream on top, the scattered toppings simultaneously crunching and melting in his mouth to spread sweet diabetes across his tongue.
it tastes like drugs in sugar form.
and it must show on his face because the tallest of his friends leans over to do the same, taking a sip from the same straw and a lick of the whipped cream from the other side, only far more generous and daring than the drink’s owner.
“bro,” comes the tall boy’s immediate reaction, “i’d get one of these every day.”
wooyoung suddenly looks less dubious and asks, curiosity now piqued, “give me a sip of that rainbow shit.”
“no,” mingi instantly responds, still keeping his drink close to his body and literally turning away to keep it protected and out of wooyoung’s reach. “you insulted my drink. get your own.”
the latter whines and you physically jerk backwards for the second time that night at their complete disregard for following stereotypical delinquent traits. you are starting to think that they are not delinquents so much as delinquent-wannabes and they seem increasingly harmless the more they simply exist.
“hongjoong,” wooyoung suddenly sings out, appearing to change targets to his other friend who had ordered the same drink. he is determined to try a sip tonight without having to spend his own money, but alas–
hongjoong flips him off and cradles his drink out of sight too. “you insulted my drink by extension.”
–determination can only get him so far.
this time, you cannot help the proper snort of amusement that leaves your mouth. you dare to hold your gaze with a lightly teasing lilt of your lips when wooyoung whips his head around with narrowed eyes. the boy cogs turn in his head as he deduces how far he can push the boundaries with you and he must come to some sort of conclusion that you are a newfound stranger-friend because he jokes with a straight face, “i’ll rob you.”
“sure,” you answer easily, tapping in a fake order onto the register’s screen to eject the cash drawer with a comedic ding! emphasising your words.
a few of them guffaw and wooyoung’s expression lights up to actually reach over the counter to help himself to a ten dollar bill. that is, until his hand is slapped away by somebody else with quite possibly the most perfect eyebrows you have ever seen. and no. you are most definitely not jealous.
“i’ll pay for your drink,” the friend chides, digging into his back pocket to fish out his wallet.
seonghwa shakes his head and advises, “don’t enable him, san,” at the same time that wooyoung brattily decides, “nah, don’t want one.”
“god, that’s it,” jongho mutters, starting to usher the group away from the counter towards the direction of the doors. “we’re leaving. mingi’s waiting outside already.”
they let themselves be herded and a few of them even turn to wave goodbye to you at the doors, cheerfully leaving behind the words ‘we’ll be back!’ in their wake as they exit the shop. your hand remains suspended in the air mid-wave even after they have disappeared and you blink blankly at the bizarreness of your entire encounter with the group of boys.
you do not know if they truly mean it when they say they will be back, but you do know one thing; you kind of hope that they do.
“can i get that thing i got last week.”
the tone of mingi’s voice ends his sentence more like it is a demand than it is a question, but the nuance of his words is still a request and already an improvement in comparison to your first encounter with him. if you are completely honest, you are also somewhat happy to see him and the others come back, so you will take the wins where you can. baby steps.
“which one?” you clarify. “i don’t remember.”
you do remember because their group of eight is pretty hard to forget, and they are some of the only customers you ever get. plus, you have made it somewhat of a personal challenge to hear mingi say something as stupid as ‘rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles’, which means that you are going to pretend for as long as you need to.
he scratches the side of his neck. “y’know, that drink you said is good.”
“we have a couple of those. was it the, uh, mysterious mermaid magic?” your head tilts with exaggerated thoughtfulness and from behind mingi, hongjoong and wooyoung cackle while the others look on with smirks, having caught on to exactly what you are doing.
“no, the rainbow unic…” he mumbles, voice growing increasingly softer with each syllable until his mouth is simply opening and closing.
you look at him with faux apologeticness and furrow your brows, “sorry? i didn’t quite catch that.”
“say it louder, dude,” his tall friend nudges him playfully. you are going to need to find out his name somehow because his is the only one you have yet to figure out, and you have a feeling you and him would get along real good.
“the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles,” mingi finally gets out. if he were a cartoon character, you would see the rising colour of bright red creep up from under his uniform to the tip of his ears and then to the very roots of his hair.
god forbid a manly man purchase a cutesy pick-me-up drink on a friday night.
you smile brightly and use your cheeriest customer service voice to announce, “one rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles for princess mingi coming right up.”
the boy in front of you is flattered to learn that you know and remember his name but is also twice as horrified by the nickname you have crowned him with. his brain short circuits and his eyes widen at you in panicked masculinity and he shoves his payment across the counter before retreating to the same table in the corner of the store where seonghwa is already seated. if you look closely enough, there is a little wisp of smoke coming out from the top of mingi’s head too as he malfunctions. heh.
the boy whose name you still do not know comes up to the counter next. he jerks his head backwards in the direction of mingi and orders, “could i get the same? that rainbow fairy sparkling unicorn or whatever.” the name is wrong but he gets an a+ for trying so you do not correct him, simply nodding and putting his order into the cash register instead.
then you ask for your own personal gain, “can i get a name for your drink?”
he does not appear to question your intentions nor realise he is the only one you have asked because he is too occupied grinning widely at you, unable to curb his cheeky excitement at the thought of what he is about to say. “yeah, peter parker,” comes his proud answer, quite literally naming his drink.
and that is how you find out that he has the best (read: worst) humour out of all of the boys.
it is frankly right up your alley but you refuse to let him one-up you. instead, you use it to your advantage. you nod, “p.p. for short,” dragging the abbreviated initials out for longer so that it sounds intentionally crude.
“peepee,” wooyoung repeats with unrestrained laughter, high-pitched shrieking that sets off the others as well.
and that is also how you find out that wooyoung has the easiest funny bone to tickle out of all the boys.
p.p.’s eyes glint with delight at the fact that you can both take and dish out your own freak. he leans against the countertop on his elbow, which is a sight to behold with how far he has to stoop down because of his height, and exposes you with no qualms, “it’s yunho, by the way, since you wanted to know my name so badly.” he adds a flirty wink for good measure as his friends ooh like the true teenage boys that they are.
you mirror his mannerisms and bat your eyelashes at him to say, “okay, whatever you say, peepee.”
hongjoong intervenes and shoves yunho aside before the latter can fall in love with you and your wack-ass humour or something. he shoos him away, “go sit at the table,” as if he is sending the taller into the naughty corner.
yunho concedes with his hands raised in mock surrender, walking backwards as he reassures his friend, “don’t worry. you won’t hear a peep-ee out of me.”
your facade cracks and you let out a laugh, which only grows louder when jongho takes the liberty to grab a wrapped straw from the container on your countertop to peg it at yunho’s face. it bounces perfectly off the middle of his forehead and lands on the floor, where seonghwa–bless him–bends down to pick it up. you think he might just be your favourite.
“didn’t know you were into that kind of humour,” hongjoong notes with a tone of amusement.
“oh, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” you respond, a hint of flirtatiousness in your words.
fuck being professional. these boys would probably be the last people on earth to ever report you for something like a coquettish comment, and god forbid you want to flirt with a couple of really hot guys. the image of hongjoong taking a lazy drag from his cigarette burns at the forefront of your mind as he stares intently into your eyes, and his seeming nonchalance to his own charm only makes him that much more attractive.
he raises an eyebrow, “is that a challenge?”
“only if you’re up for it,” you respond coyly.
san coughs and interrupts, “not to be a cockblock, but can you flirt after we order our drinks.”
the boy in front of you rolls his eyes, pairing it with a loving middle finger at his friend. however, he moves over anyway, half mumbling that he is not going to get a drink. his spot at the counter is immediately snagged by san who mimics yunho’s earlier pose leaning against the surface. “so,” he gives you an overly-smouldering gaze, “tell me something about yourself that i don’t know.”
a bubble of mirth rises from out of your chest and san drops the act utterly pleased with himself. you humour him, though only partially, by revealing, “the desserts here are actually really good. i love the cookies.”
“which one’s your favourite?”
you point to one of the cookies in the second row of the display counter. “the biscoff and peanut butter fudge.”
one of his beautiful brows raises upwards as if to ask why the cookie name is so normal. you give him a miniscule shrug. beats me. he shakes his head with a slight chuckle then requests, “i’ll have one of each cookie and one of each donut that you’ve got.” your eyes bug out of your head because that is a fuckton of cookies and donuts, but san reassures you they all have caves for stomachs.
you get started on their drinks then slide the glass doors open to pull their desserts out, only to realise that yeosang has lingered close by to watch you. he is not wearing his uniform today, instead in a tracksuit like the others but in white. he looks good in that colour and you tell him such, “your tracksuit looks good.”
“thanks,” he replies easily, “wooyoung shoplifted it for me.”
your jaw drops at his sudden confession, too taken aback to appropriately school your expression in time even if you should not really be too surprised by their shenanigans. at your obvious stupor, yeosang’s stoic face breaks immediately and he reveals, “just kidding, hehe.” despite his joke, he blushes to the very tip of his ears like rudolph but elf style and rushes away.
you are left dumbfounded in a good way. one day, you are going to teach yeosang a thing or two about confidence because his uncanny ability to keep a straight face whilst saying the most out-of-left-field thing when it is least expected then leaving the other person wondering whether he is being genuine or only joking is top-tier humour–he just needs to learn how to own it.
you are also left wondering whether there is a single sane soul in this friendship group. you still hold some hope for seonghwa and maybe san, but who knows.
when their drinks and spread of desserts are ready, you expect them all to leave like they did last week. except this time they drag two circular tables closer together in the far corner of the store that they seem hellbent on claiming as their spot, where they then lay out all of the desserts across the joint surface. you watch from behind the counter. there is both a sense of systematic order and chaotic mess to the way they take a bite out of a cookie or donut, nod enthusiastically at how good it tastes whilst shoving it into the face of somebody else, who will in turn take a bite and join in on the enthusiastic nodding and moan an affirmative that it is good.
“wait, this donut is fucking fire,” you hear, and, “this cookie is The Shit, bro.”
they are sort of really fucking cute; boys you would expect to see loitering in alleyways with cigs in their mouths and sneaking into clubs with fakes to pop pills, instead sitting hunched over on cute plastic stools around rickety circular tables sharing sweet desserts like they are at a tea party.
wooyoung catches your gaze over the top of jongho’s head and he gets up instantly to drag you out from behind your counter. all of your warbled protests go unheard as he pulls you by one of your loose apron ties–his strangely endearing way of being respectful not to actually touch you–towards their tables whilst refuting, “there’s nobody else in here but us.”
that is how you find yourself squashed between seonghwa and jongho, your shoulders and thighs touching from close proximity.
“try this blueberry lemon cookie,” seonghwa offers from beside you the moment you sit down, extending the treat for you to take a bite from.
mingi so helpfully reminds, “she literally works here.”
seonghwa shushes him, “yeah, but she probably hasn’t tried everything on the menu.”
he is not wrong. you may have the appetite, but you do not have the physical stomach to try an entire serving of each dessert available in the shop, even if you were to try one per shift. now that the opportunity has handed itself to you on a silver platter, you are not going to refuse. plus, you do not think that you could ever bring yourself to say no when seonghwa is holding the cookie out with both hands so eagerly.
he is definitely your favourite.
you take a tentative bite out of the cookie and eight pairs of shiny eyes do not leave yours until you give them an affirmative and enthusiastic nod at its taste. all flurry of activity starts up again as they continue to trade desserts with those sitting beside them and across the circle. it feels like you are suddenly back in primary school, sharing your snacks out of your lunch box and trading sandwiches with your friends. they include you easily in both taste-testing and conversation, filling your usually quiet shift with antics and laughter.
it has always been a perk that you do not get many customers, but now more so than ever, you hope that nobody comes in for the remainder of your shift–or at the very least, not until the boys leave. in just two meetings, they have all grown on you in their own ways and you kind of want this to become a regular thing. you could definitely get used to this.
despite their appearances and rough-around-the-edges personalities, they are really just a bunch of boys living their life to the fullest in the diabetic form of bubble tea, loaded cookies and glazed donut runs in the middle of a random night.
and honestly? if you had a group of friends like them, you would too.
yunho’s eyes narrow fiercely at the couple who are walking along the footpath outside the perimeter of your shop, daring them to step in through the doors. his glare is not needed though–the very sight of what is going down inside is more than enough for their eyes to widen and for the man to hastily pull his girlfriend away.
“oh look, there goes another two potential customers,” hongjoong notes with sarcastic dismay. “i wonder why people are always in such a hurry to leave.”
yunho blinks his murderous intent away and faces you with round, innocent eyes as you roll your own and cross your arms. your insides wilt at the loss of potential revenue but only by a tad, because whatever business they boys scare off, they make up for several times over. you state as a matter-of-factly, “maybe it has something to do with jongho.”
said boy currently stands about three feet away from you, his arms raised and fists clenched threateningly as the rest of the boys surround the both of you in a circle of sorts as if they are about to witness a bloody fistfight. you suppose it does not look too far from the truth–you are about to get punched in the face.
jongho shrugs dismissively, “it’s not my fault other people aren’t interested in learning how to get knocked out by a sucker punch safely.”
“i don’t think any of those words should go together in a single sentence,” you tell him honestly, unimpressed.
you cannot win against him or any of them. last week it had been learning how to pop a dislocated shoulder back into place, the week before it had been how to dislocate a shoulder, and then the week before that it had been how to reverse-jump a person if they were chasing you into an alleyway.
it has become an ingrained part of your weekly routine for the boys to rock up during your friday night shift, order half the menu, hang around for hours where you usually join them, then leave until the next week rolls around again. but these random tutorials have only just recently become a new routine within your pre-existing routine.
it all started when wooyoung snuck behind your counter one night while your back was turned to make their drinks and decided it would be hilarious to scream in your face as you turned around. you had jerked backwards so hard that you knocked over the entire stack of blender jars, which toppled over into the dirty sink one after the other like noisy dominoes. seonghwa had made wooyoung personally clean and stack them all again as punishment, but the damage had been done and hongjoong had declared that you would not survive in the real world if a little fright like that could make your butthole pucker right back up into your own intestinal system.
and so had begun your weekly crash courses on survival instincts because according to them, you had none. you had refused to submit to their antics at first, but then yeosang had pointed out, “it’s true. wooyoung was standing behind you like a creep for a full five minutes and you didn’t even notice.” san had also threatened that they would not order anything until you complied each week.
“that’s not fair,” you had complained petulantly. “i just won’t serve you guys at all then.”
san had given you a cheshire grin. “you wouldn’t. we’re like, eighty percent of the total revenue you make during your shift.”
that shuts you up real quick and san knows, so you have no choice but to give in to whatever tomfoolery they choose to teach you for that week. if it is learning to ‘get knocked out by a sucker punch safely’, then so be it.
“okay, i’m all set to be punched in the future,” you declare dryly as jongho reigns in his fist after a pretend swing at your temple, “are you guys going to order now?”
hongjoong nods like he is the little leader of this delinquent gang, but jokes on him because they follow behind you to gather in front of the counter in a single file of sorts with practiced ease, an endearingly crooked line of ducklings. you know right off the bat that it means they already know what they want to order because other times they will come together as pairs or even triplets so that they can umm and ahh over the menu together.
you do not think you can ever take them seriously as proper delinquents–if they even count as such.
as if to prove your point even further, mingi throws up double gang signs and makes a poor attempt to rap, “i want an emineminem,” and when seonghwa not-so-subtly pinches his elbow, he adds on, “please.”
you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing as your hands automatically move to input his order into the register, long past familiar with what his order truly means; mysterious mermaid magic, because the alliteration of the name ‘m and m and m’ sounds the same as the rapper’s name twice. go figure. you do not know if ‘emineminem’ is worse, or, as san calls it whilst flexing his biceps, ‘the merman’.
the boys have a shockingly terrible incapacity to remember the names on the menu correctly, but it is also partially due to the fact that they could give less than zero fucks about them. they will either say what they think the name is, or what they think the name should be.
they make the rules. you simply follow.
the first time it happened was during their third time at the store. “yo, give me a triple b,” jongho had confidently ordered.
“a fuckin’ what?” you were positive you were having a stroke.
“a triple b,” he had tried again, frowning at how you did not automatically understand him. “the big butterfly bus or somethin’.”
you could not take him seriously. “big butterfly bus? what are they gonna do after hopping on? go to fucking school?” you had jested. “also, you can’t just make up your own name and expect me to–you know what, sure.”
it sort of becomes a game. you will roll over in your grave before admitting it, but it is sort of fun to hear an absolutely rubbish string of words–or letters–come out of their mouths for you to then follow their ridiculous train of thought backwards to work out what the actual drink is. the silly boys with their silly names kind of grow on you.
and you may or may not indulge them a little too much. they are the first to try any new items on the menu, even when they are still technically not meant to be available to the general public. but when they pounce on whatever you present to them on the table like puppies and fresh kibble, it is very hard not to keep doing so. which is exactly why you bring out the batch of cupcakes you had made earlier specifically for them to taste.
they look like normal vanilla-frosted cupcakes, except when you bite into them, there is a dark chocolate cookie inside the base. it is the perfect mix of soft and chewy, and when the gooeyness is maximised by slightly warming the dessert up, it is–
“fucking fire, bro,” yunho says around a mouthful, blatantly ignoring the dirty look that seonghwa shoots him for talking with food in his mouth.
yeosang inspects the cookie at the core. “have you named it yet?”
you do not get a say in what the menu items are named and they always do in fact already have a name by the time the boys get to try them. regardless, you answer, “not yet,” because they love the power trip they get when they have creative liberty over your store’s products.
“i have an idea,” wooyoung pipes up immediately. “the frosted ultimate cookie cupcake.” then in a falsetto voice, he role-plays by himself, “hi, could i get a fucc please?”
mingi snorts himself silly and continues, “actually, could you give me two fucks?”
you oblige, “fuck you, and double fuck you,” flashing your middle finger at wooyoung first then mingi second to punctuate the fucks you are gifting them.
the boys snicker at your crudeness, absolutely delighted. not the type to let any opportunity to swear go by, the rest of them join in as san yanks you down to sit at the table with them before you can roll your eyes and walk away.
and out of all moments, it is this exact moment, when you are surrounded by the eight of them throwing out colourful words left and right with the giddy enthusiasm of toddlers, each holding a half-eaten vanilla-frosted cookie cupcake in their hands, that you realise you may actually give a few too many fucks about them…and not just in a friendly way.
well. fuck.
when you get a call on friday morning from your branch manager the following week, your immediate thought is that somebody finally chanced upon watching the store’s security footage and you have been caught making friends with delinquent customers and literally feeding them with business secrets. except when you pick up and tentatively greet him, he starts to say something that is arguably just as bad.
“i need you to swap shifts with gayoung. she can’t work this tuesday night so i need you to cover that day ‘cause there’s nobody else available,” he informs. “gayoung will cover your shift tonight instead.”
you are still trying to process his words as you repeat, “tonight?”
“yes, so you won’t need to go into work tonight.”
your heart skips a beat. for the first time in your life, you find yourself asking, “can’t i take both shifts?”
“no, you can’t. sorry,” your manager apologises but he does not sound sorry at all.
you have never voluntarily taken up extra night shifts, much less asked to take up additional shifts. yet, there is a heavy sense of disappointment that simultaneously settles itself deep inside your stomach and lodges itself in your throat, because it is friday today and friday night is for your boys. you do not even have a way of letting them know that you will not be in tonight.
you wonder if they will notice your absence and whether they will care. after all, you may just be somebody who happens to work at the bubble tea shop they frequent. but it turns out that they do and turns out you are not.
“where were you?”
those are the first words that are thrown at you the moment the boys walk through the door during your friday shift the week after you swapped nights with gayoung. they stomp up to your counter sporting furrowed brows and pressed lips, and if it were not for seonghwa’s soft smile and warm, “we missed seeing you,” you would have thought that they were angry at you.
you can only imagine how terrifying their demeanours would be if they were actually to be angry.
“my manager made me swap shifts with another coworker,” you explain and their expressions soften immediately.
jongho breaks out into a triumphant smirk as he turns to hongjoong with an upturned palm. “i told you. pay up.”
the latter sheepishly pulls out some crumpled notes as you gawk, “you bet on why i wasn’t at work?”
“don’t mind them,” wooyoung waves his hand dismissively. “hongjoong has trust issues–said that you were avoiding us.”
“i would never!” you refute at the same time that hongjoong exclaims, “i did not!”
“either way, fuck your manager. the fucking audacity to take you off our shift?” wooyoung complains.
you try to keep a straight face at the fact that wooyoung has just very casually claimed your shift–and by extension, you–as theirs. you babble the first thing that comes to mind, “the drinks are all made using the same recipe. it doesn’t matter who makes them.”
yunho’s eyes narrow with offense that you would even suggest a thing. “it’s nowhere near the same.” he is not the only one who wants to tell you that as long as it is not you it will never be the same.
their collective thoughts come out instead through mingi, “nobody understands when we order a triple b or an emineminem or a ‘horse drink’.”
“yeah, no shit sherlock,” you fire back, because apparently sarcasm is your automatic defense mechanism when you are flustered, “might help if you call them by their proper names.”
“or maybe the problem is that nobody knows us well enough like you do,” san insists with a wink and in response, yeosang reveals, “we don’t let just anybody get close to us.”
you joke before you can truly think your words through, “sounds like a you problem then.”
“you’re right,” hongjoong banters easily with smugness.
your nervous fidgeting as you tap useless buttons on the screen of your register gives you away despite your attempts to stay collected. they chuckle and it is difficult not to crumble under their unwavering gazes because it is obvious they can see right through your facade. but can anybody really blame you when you had not been expecting them to reciprocate your feelings of interest, much less admit to it so easily and straightforwardly?
in a last ditch attempt to regain some control over the conversation, you ask, “so, what do you guys want to order?”
from day one, the boys have surprised you in the most unpredictable ways–eight not-quite-delinquent delinquents with simultaneously calloused fists, pottied mouths and insatiable sweet tooth. today is no exception, and you have a feeling that you should start becoming accustomed to their antics because they are here to stay, especially after today.
“what we want to order?” they look at you with confident flirtatiousness. “your phone number and a date.”
✴ : smut
ᯓᡣ𐭩 : absolute favourites
[Last updated: 22.04.2025] ⋆˙⟡ If any links don't work anymore please let me know I'll get it fixed as soon as possible ^^
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Series ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Synthetic heartbeats | part 2 - @armpirate ✴
| robot!san x inventor!reader (COMPLETED)
After loneliness has hit you, you decided to create a companion through an AI project you had left pending after failing with it. SAN is a new technology robot, able cover up your needs before they were obvious, giving you the fake human support you were looking for. Although, maybe that human support isn't as fake as you thought and SAN is able to cover up more needs than you could ever think of...
In The Quiet Spaces | Of Wanting - @honeyhotteoks ✴
| boyfriend to husband!san (COMPLETED)
a quiet morning snowed in at the cabin with san ❄
ᯓᡣ𐭩 The Roommate - @s4nniebe4r
| enemies to lovers au, forced proximity (ONGOING)
a mutual friend suggests you and choi san, of all people live together
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Ceilings | Part 2 | Part 3 - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✴
| parent au, pe teacher!san x (not so) single mom!reader (COMPLETED)
your kid is finally ready to go to school, and you're spiraling. thankfully, you find friendship with your kid's teacher and she becomes determined to become your best friend. simultaneously, she tries to set you up with the cute pe teacher, but you know him from somewhere deep within your past. can the truth come out without jeopardizing your future?
ᯓᡣ𐭩 It's You - @minisugakoobies ✴
| best friends brother!san (ONGOING)
He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend's little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That's it. How did this happen?
Virtues And Dices | Silent Night, Unholy Night - @outlawinthisworld ✴
| christmas au, childhood friends to lovers au (COMPLETED)
Wooyoung gifted you a set of Naughty Dice at your group’s annual Christmas party, which your childhood best friend and long-time crush, San, found intriguing…
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Oneshots and drabbles ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Too Sweet - @yoongiseesawmp3
| model!san x designer!reader
it's love at first sight when you see san. he's perfect...for your runway show! he's the top model right now, and everyone wants him. you want him a little more, but we'll unpack that later. can you get the it boy into your collection?
U Got It Bad - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✴
| baseball player!san x reporter!reader
you've been covering your local team for years. the players, the coaches, everybody knows you. except for newbie choi san. he just joined the team, but he knows you from somewhere...maybe the bar last night?
ᯓᡣ𐭩 The Last Of The Real Ones - @k-hotchoisan ✴
| villain!san x hero!reader kinda
you awaken from a three centuries slumber, sealing yourself after being almost sacrificed to be the next heavenly offering, your memories barely intact, and now you realise the world is almost completely destroyed. You have no choice but to find out what happened.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sweet, Sweet Revenge - @hwallazia ✴
| sub boyfriend!san
you give san a taste of his own medicine, taking the lead and setting the tone yourself.
Overwhelmed By Instinct - @domm1etae ✴
| a/b/o au, alpha!san x omega!reader
Have you ever imagined a needy, desperate alpha in rut, so overwhelmed by pleasure that they pass out while their omega rides them? Their omega, still eagerly bouncing on their cock, only realizes their adorable, pathetic alpha has blacked out from the sheer intensity of it all
ᯓᡣ𐭩 The Help - @tsukisrants ✴
| strangers to lovers au
you’re tired of your ex trying to control your life, and as you’re once again faced with him, you know you’ll have to rely on yourself to make it. but… things don’t go as planned, and for once, someone steps in, and helps you. instead of going home, you decide to give the stranger a chance at making your night memorable. and fuck, he does.
The Last Straw - @vent-stink
| boyfriend!san
After getting into an argument with your friend, you can't help but feel the weight of everything else falling on you and San doesn't know what to do to help.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Leave The Window Open - @sungbeam
| neighbours to lovers au, cat dad!san
turns out your upstairs neighbor has a cat who adores climbing through your window — oh, and said neighbor is also fine as hell.
Dolce And Gabbana - @kitten4sannie ✴
| idol!san x guest!reader
san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.
after you put your baby to sleep and head to bed yourself, you come to the discovery that your dear husband just hit his rut and desperately wants to put another baby in you.
Middle Of The Night - @kitten4sannie ✴
| boyfriend!san
these days, san can never seem to get a good night’s rest, that is, until he’s able to completely unload himself inside his pretty little girlfriend. good thing you‘re laying right next to him.
Gold Rush - @kitten4sannie ✴
| western au, cowboy husband!san
san strikes gold, in more ways than one.
Last Christmas - @kitten4sannie ✴
| exes to lovers au
during a winter getaway with your friends, you end up having to come face to face with choi san, the man who broke your heart in two just last christmas.
Wooyoung's sister - @hotteokyu ✴
| enemies to lovers, idol!san x wooyoungs twin!reader
Your brother's career would be over if not for his pretty substitute. You can sing, dance, and make a perfect impression of Wooyoung, so you accept his plea. You have your own reasons, of course. It's about time you meet the man thirsting for your innocent brother and put him in his place. You hate people like him. Choi San.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Depths Of The Ocean - @joong-of-gold
| single parent au, office au, single parent!san x office worker!reader
the ceo of your company doesn't seem to have a warm bone in his body, constantly strutting around the office with an unnecessary aura of authority. however, the facade falls away when you discover he has a daughter, and you delve into the depths of his true personality.
With A Touch Of Sweetness - @atxxzist
| regular!san x barista!reader
working at a cafe, you have to deal with a certain customer with dimples who always like his iced coffee extra sweet
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sugarplum - @itstheghostofmypast
| husband!san x bakery owner!reader
So he loved HIS ROLLS HUH?!
A Goodfella's Moondance - @itstheghostofmypast
| mafia!au
He waited for her to waltz into his arms, and she did. He felt her jitter and shiver under his touch, much like how he did the same on her love. He had found someone to love and cherish, someone who kept his fragile morality in check, someone who he could call a lover, a wife, a weakness.
He was glad he took her to Japan on a business trip, one of the best decisions of his life.
Cuteness Clad In Silk - @xaer1s ✴
| boyfriend!san
san was always a calm and collected guy, not riling himself up easily but this simple change you made tonight, unexpectedly -especially for him- had him feeling a bit too excited.
Rock & A Hard Place - @bombuni ✴
| slight dubcon, roommate!san
your roommate lends a helping hand.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Honey, Baby - @i-like-loserz ✴
| sub husband!san
san needs your attention
Mommy & Daddy - @i-like-loserz ✴
| boyfriend!san x tipsy!reader
you come home from a girl's night out feeling extra needy for your boyfriend
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sensitive - @ateezscupid ✴
| sub boyfriend!san
All you were doing was giving your boyfriend head scratches. You didn't expect him to completely fold under your touch.
Obsessed - @hwallazia ✴
| boyfriend!san
just virgin!san eating u out for the first time <3
You're getting ready for bed and your boyfriend refuses to go to bed without you despite the fact that he can barely keep his eyes open.
It's You - @xomakara ✴
| actor!san x publicist!reader
You're a publicist secretly in love with your famous client, San, but his manager thinks you should cook up a story about him and his co-star to generate buzz for their upcoming movie. This involves arranging dates and photo ops for the two of them, but you can't help but notice he seems more interested in you.
Roadtrips - @enhanextdoor
| proposal au
𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.
A Burning Passion - @k-zuzulibrary
| strangers to lovers au, boxer!san x med student!reader
an amateur medic assigned to treat a famous, professional boxer. what possibly could go wrong?
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Devotion - @cheolism-archive ✴
| rebel!san x gang leader!reader
after a year of fighting in a rebellion, san was tired of battle. like an angel, a goddess, you offered him peace.
Just You - @wwooyology ✴
| roommate au, enemies to lovers au
he was just your annoying roommate that you just couldn't wait to get away from. all of his late night rendezvous started to get under your skin so you just avoided him like the plague. that was until you needed his help getting to class and of course he wanted something in return.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 A Little Too Late, A Little Too Drunk - @dae-chwiita
| friends to lovers au, drunk!san
You keep ignoring San and his drunk self can't handle it.
when you decide to confront San after days of him avoiding you, unknowingly step into the lair of a werewolf in rut, you ignite a night of uncontrollable desire and primal intensity.
Kalla - @armpirate ✴
| hotel owner!san
The calla lily has a fair amount of symbols related to it. And the owner of the hotel you were sent to work to chose to use the hidden lustful, sexy and sensual meaning of it.
With Love For You - @honeyhotteoks ✴
| husband!san
you’ve been married to choi san since you were young, and you love him wholly and completely, but you also need to discover and understand your own sexuality. san is nothing if not supportive, and as a couple you hire an escort to help you explore those desires.
Apt For Two - @i-like-loserz ✴
| friends to lovers au, drunk!san
San's Sweet Touch - @brownsugarbaybee ✴
Lovers Lane - @shinestarhwaa
| parent au, husband/dad!san
Sweat And Sweet Kisses - @wonbinini
| boyfriend!san
Climbing A Mountain - @shinestarhwaa ✴
| sexworker!san
Riding San For The First Time - @starmatzz ✴
Morning Warmth - @st4rlvr
At The Alter - @st4rlvr
────୨ৎ────
Did you finish all the fics? Check out the other members too! ⤵ Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho
Synopsis: Tired of all the grey weather and the relentless winter cold? Dive into the world of our Cherry Blossom event, riddled with heartwarming and sweet drabbles, here to help ease you into the defrosting spring that we have ahead of us.
❀ This is a collection of eight drabbles written by Mina and myself, containing individual and quite unique soulmate tropes paired with a variety of aus, which have been chosen randomly by us, then placed in a spin-the-wheel to make it all the more interesting when selecting who would write what. ❀
A/N: Hello, my loves, Mina and I are back with a little fluffy surprise for the entirety of March! We are both so excited about this little event, it's actually my first this kind of collaboration despite the many years I've been on this site writing, so I'm really excited about it, and I know Mina is too. I hope we have sparked your interest, here you can check out the event announcement. We also have a taglist for this event that you can join if you'd like! ^^ dividers
❀ Taglist ❀
3rd March - Chasing your shadows (Ariadné)
❀ Outlaw!Kim Hongjoong x Bounty hunter!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Each day on your arm is a particular event your soulmate will face.
Summary: What was supposed to be a wild chase after a bounty you had your eyes set on for years now, turns into a life changing event. You had always known your soulmate was never up to any good thanks to the words inked on your inner forearm ever since you were five years old, but you hadn't expected him to be the biggest menace known to the state...or the man you had been relentlessly chasing, trying to catch for the hefty reward promised.
7th March - Pretend You Love Me (Mina)
❀ Badboy!Choi Jongho x Student!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Your soulmate's name is on your wrist.
Summary: Jongho, heir to Choi Clothes, and you are soulmates marked by each other's names on your wrists since birth. Instead of a fairy-tale romance, you're stuck in a fake dating contract to restore Jongho's tarnished image created by scandals. As you navigate public events and play the part of a cute couple, the lines between fake and real blur together. Despite your undeniable chemistry, you refuse to take him seriously due to his reckless past. As the arrangement nears its end, you must confront the truth about your feelings and whether you can move beyond the contract.
10th March - A world in your colours (Ariadné)
❀ Daycare teacher!Kang Yeosang x Florist!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: You see all the colours for the first time when you meet your soulmate.
Summary: A world through the faint hues of your soulmate's eye colour isn't the most colourful life to live. Approaching twenty-five and still being unable to see all the colours the world has to offer has you worried that you'll never meet your soulmate. Doubts and questions riddle your mind day and night, but at least you have the one thing that makes you happy no matter what, your little flowers. You can't actually see their colours, but you can imagine their vibrancy. And then, one day when you're making a bouquet for a lovely man, your whole world gets covered in an overwhelming amount of colour, rendering you stunned.
14th March - A Second to Forever (Mina)
❀ Mixed fairy!Seonghwa x Fairy!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: A timer counting down for when you meet your soulmate.
Summary: The countdown on your wrist was getting closer to its end and the jitters of finally meeting your soulmate were rendering you an anxious mess. It was a moment you had waited for your entire life - the chance to put a face and name to the person you were destined to meet - and it made you think of different ways to escape fate. After a series of comedic events where everything that could go wrong, did, you met your soulmate. In that instant, everything changed. The encounter was filled with sparks of attraction, warmth and genuine connection, leading to a tender first interaction that left you both feeling enchanted.
17th March - So it's always been you (Ariadné)
❀ Model!Jung Wooyoung x Stylist!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Whenever you lose an item, it ends up in your soulmates' possession somehow.
Summary: Both young and restless, Wooyoung and you have started out your careers around the same time. As newbies in the industry, you quickly found yourselves sticking together and growing closer with each passing day. Now, many years down the line, everyone knows that you and Wooyoung are inseparable besties, who have each other's backs and will crack up at the stupidest of jokes. As his stylist, it's also convenient that whatever Wooyoung loses just magically turns up in your possession since he's known for losing his stuff often. It takes you quite the years to figure it out, but when you do eventually, everything just clicks in place, all of it making sense.
21st March - Just Another Night, Until You (Mina)
❀ Firefighter!Choi San x Emergency physician!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Being next to your soulmate heals their and your injuries.
Summary: Hectic nights at work is nothing out of the ordinary for you, but when a man is wheeled into the Intensive Care Unit with second degree burns all over his body and in the need of immediate medical attention, your life takes a turn as his body heals on his own by the mere presence of you. Shocked by the discovery, you stay by his side as he recovers and together you come to terms with your unexpected connection.
24th March - The pink and blue of your skin (Ariadné)
❀ Sunshine!Jeong Yunho x Grumpy!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: A touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint there.
Summary: If there's one person you never understood, and stopped trying to, it was Jeong Yunho. Upon your first meeting back in college, you just knew he'd be a pain in the ass...and you were right. His vibrant personality matched with the constant smile on his face and sickening positivity always made you stay away from him. But much to your dismay, your friend groups mashed quite well, and years after college, you were still going strong and hanging out at any given opportunity. Much to your horror, your best friend makes you share a room and a bed with Yunho for the weekend, and that's when things change...but not for the reasons you'd first think of.
28th March - Sparks and Bruises (Mina)
❀ Boxer!Song Mingi x Real estate agent!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Meter showing how much of a danger your soulmate is in.
Summary: In a world where everyone at the age of eighteen gets a metal meter implanted on their wrist that shows the amount of danger your soulmate is in. You and Mingi have known each other since high school, but went through a nasty fallout after his love for boxing turned into a dangerous gamble with his life as the price. Years later, you stumble over his injured form on the doorstep of your apartment building. Not having the heart to turn him away like all those years ago, you invite him inside with the intention to clean his wounds, but get a lot more than you bargained for.
Synopsis: Tired of all the grey weather and the relentless winter cold? Dive into the world of our Cherry Blossom event, riddled with heartwarming and sweet drabbles, here to help ease you into the defrosting spring that we have ahead of us.
❀ This is a collection of eight drabbles written by Mina and myself, containing individual and quite unique soulmate tropes paired with a variety of aus, which have been chosen randomly by us, then placed in a spin-the-wheel to make it all the more interesting when selecting who would write what. ❀
A/N: Hello, my loves, Mina and I are back with a little fluffy surprise for the entirety of March! We are both so excited about this little event, it's actually my first this kind of collaboration despite the many years I've been on this site writing, so I'm really excited about it, and I know Mina is too. I hope we have sparked your interest, here you can check out the event announcement. We also have a taglist for this event that you can join if you'd like! ^^ dividers
❀ Taglist ❀
3rd March - Chasing your shadows (Ariadné)
❀ Outlaw!Kim Hongjoong x Bounty hunter!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Each day on your arm is a particular event your soulmate will face.
Summary: What was supposed to be a wild chase after a bounty you had your eyes set on for years now, turns into a life changing event. You had always known your soulmate was never up to any good thanks to the words inked on your inner forearm ever since you were five years old, but you hadn't expected him to be the biggest menace known to the state...or the man you had been relentlessly chasing, trying to catch for the hefty reward promised.
7th March - Pretend You Love Me (Mina)
❀ Badboy!Choi Jongho x Student!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Your soulmate's name is on your wrist.
Summary: Jongho, heir to Choi Clothes, and you are soulmates marked by each other's names on your wrists since birth. Instead of a fairy-tale romance, you're stuck in a fake dating contract to restore Jongho's tarnished image created by scandals. As you navigate public events and play the part of a cute couple, the lines between fake and real blur together. Despite your undeniable chemistry, you refuse to take him seriously due to his reckless past. As the arrangement nears its end, you must confront the truth about your feelings and whether you can move beyond the contract.
10th March - A world in your colours (Ariadné)
❀ Daycare teacher!Kang Yeosang x Florist!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: You see all the colours for the first time when you meet your soulmate.
Summary: A world through the faint hues of your soulmate's eye colour isn't the most colourful life to live. Approaching twenty-five and still being unable to see all the colours the world has to offer has you worried that you'll never meet your soulmate. Doubts and questions riddle your mind day and night, but at least you have the one thing that makes you happy no matter what, your little flowers. You can't actually see their colours, but you can imagine their vibrancy. And then, one day when you're making a bouquet for a lovely man, your whole world gets covered in an overwhelming amount of colour, rendering you stunned.
14th March - A Second to Forever (Mina)
❀ Mixed fairy!Seonghwa x Fairy!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: A timer counting down for when you meet your soulmate.
Summary: The countdown on your wrist was getting closer to its end and the jitters of finally meeting your soulmate were rendering you an anxious mess. It was a moment you had waited for your entire life - the chance to put a face and name to the person you were destined to meet - and it made you think of different ways to escape fate. After a series of comedic events where everything that could go wrong, did, you met your soulmate. In that instant, everything changed. The encounter was filled with sparks of attraction, warmth and genuine connection, leading to a tender first interaction that left you both feeling enchanted.
17th March - So it's always been you (Ariadné)
❀ Model!Jung Wooyoung x Stylist!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Whenever you lose an item, it ends up in your soulmates' possession somehow.
Summary: Both young and restless, Wooyoung and you have started out your careers around the same time. As newbies in the industry, you quickly found yourselves sticking together and growing closer with each passing day. Now, many years down the line, everyone knows that you and Wooyoung are inseparable besties, who have each other's backs and will crack up at the stupidest of jokes. As his stylist, it's also convenient that whatever Wooyoung loses just magically turns up in your possession since he's known for losing his stuff often. It takes you quite the years to figure it out, but when you do eventually, everything just clicks in place, all of it making sense.
21st March - Just Another Night, Until You (Mina)
❀ Firefighter!Choi San x Emergency physician!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Being next to your soulmate heals their and your injuries.
Summary: Hectic nights at work is nothing out of the ordinary for you, but when a man is wheeled into the Intensive Care Unit with second degree burns all over his body and in the need of immediate medical attention, your life takes a turn as his body heals on his own by the mere presence of you. Shocked by the discovery, you stay by his side as he recovers and together you come to terms with your unexpected connection.
24th March - The pink and blue of your skin (Ariadné)
❀ Sunshine!Jeong Yunho x Grumpy!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: A touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint there.
Summary: If there's one person you never understood, and stopped trying to, it was Jeong Yunho. Upon your first meeting back in college, you just knew he'd be a pain in the ass...and you were right. His vibrant personality matched with the constant smile on his face and sickening positivity always made you stay away from him. But much to your dismay, your friend groups mashed quite well, and years after college, you were still going strong and hanging out at any given opportunity. Much to your horror, your best friend makes you share a room and a bed with Yunho for the weekend, and that's when things change...but not for the reasons you'd first think of.
28th March - Sparks and Bruises (Mina)
❀ Boxer!Song Mingi x Real estate agent!reader ❀
Soulmate trope: Meter showing how much of a danger your soulmate is in.
Summary: In a world where everyone at the age of eighteen gets a metal meter implanted on their wrist that shows the amount of danger your soulmate is in. You and Mingi have known each other since high school, but went through a nasty fallout after his love for boxing turned into a dangerous gamble with his life as the price. Years later, you stumble over his injured form on the doorstep of your apartment building. Not having the heart to turn him away like all those years ago, you invite him inside with the intention to clean his wounds, but get a lot more than you bargained for.
[Archive] Flightless Bird - [Archive] Amygdala - [Archive] Take Me Home - [Archive] Morning Light - [Archive] Deep Down - [Archive] 'Tunnel' by Mingi - The Story - [Break] Half of My Heart
Behind The Photo (230718) - Alone With You (230928) - Happy Anniversary (240225) - [Coachella] Plunge Deeper - Their Light (240802) - Love & Lust (240927)
... [SOLO PROJECTS]
PRAY ft Agust D - Versace Ambassadorship - Where We Fall K-Drama (w/ Yunho) - [Special Clip] The Beach - MAMA Exclusive Stage - LXST; Record One - LXST; Record Two
Insomniac; Tracklist - Behind The Track; Paranoia ♪ - Yūgen; The Showcase
... [ARTICLES]
D-Day Tour Guest Appearance - KCON LA Day 2: Special Stage - Break the Wall Tour: Jongho's Absence - Versace Ambassadorship - MCountdown - Versace Icons Dinner - MAMA Awards Nominations - MAMA Exclusive Stage : Icarus - BANGTEEZ Maknaes - D.U.N.K Showcase Health Concerns - 'Trust Me' Listening Party - J-Hope On The Street - 'D-Day' The Movie - Coachella Dating Suspicions - Relationship Evidence Throughout Coachella - Coachella Kiss - Former Leader Meets Maknae - Hearing Loss Revelation - Akaraka Festival - Pray : Hidden Footage - Mentorship Reunion - Dispatched by Mistake - Behind The Curtains : Tokyo Anchor - Lore Deepens - Work Part 4; Leaked Footage - GQ Magazine; Segment - Summer Sonic Festival - ATEEZ's Royal Blood - Inkigayo; Heavenly Stage - J-Hope Discharge Ceremony - Elle Style Awards - The Kingmaker - Masters of Performance - KGMA; Best Producer
... [ALBUM ERAS]
Treasure EP. Fin: All to Action (Epilogue: Neverland) - The World Ep.2 : Outlaw (Concept Photos) - The World Ep.2 : Outlaw (Trailers)
The World Ep. Fin : Will (Comeback Teaser) - The World Ep. Fin : Will (Tracklist)
The World Ep. Fin : Will (Scenes) - The World Ep. Fin : Will (Shadow)
Not Okay (Teaser) - Not Okay (MV)
... [WILL TO POWER TOUR]
Jamsil Sound Check : 240127 - A More Mature Concept (& Acting Stage) - Hanzo Twitter Update : 240128 - Solo Stage: Shadow - Dance Break: Wings
Summary: Relationships are rarely as simple as they seem. It becomes heartbreakingly complicated when two souls, bound by a love that still burns bright, come to realise that sometimes, love alone may not be enough to keep them together.
A/N: Seonghwa's 踊り子 (odoriko) cover has been on repeat since the moment it came out. I couldn't get it out of my mind and just knew I'd never forgive myself if I didn't write anything inspired by it.
ATEEZ MASTERLIST
"I don't love you."
Strangely, those words would have been easier to bear. But instead, you heard the ones that shattered you in ways you never thought possible: "I love you so much... but we can't go on like this anymore."
The ache was unbearable, as if your heart was tearing itself apart with every replay of his broken voice in your mind. You would have preferred if he had said his love had faded, that the spark was gone. At least then, you could grieve, accept, and move forward. But no—he still loved you. Deeply. And that cruel truth left you stuck in a purgatory of emotions, unable to let go.
Yet, you understood him. You always did. And perhaps that was the most painful part of all—knowing he was right. You had felt it too, this growing divide neither of you could bridge. But you hadn't been brave enough to say it aloud, to admit that love wasn't enough to hold together two people who simply weren't meant to be.
So, he said it for you. And now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been, and the love that would never quite fade.
"It'll be alright, sweetie. Time heals everything," your mother murmured, her hand gently rubbing your back as you blinked away tears and refused to meet her gaze. Her tone was soft, even comforting, but you couldn't stand it—not when she sat there pretending she hadn't played a pivotal role in this heartbreak. You could almost feel her satisfaction simmering beneath the surface, hidden behind her facade of concern. After all, hadn't she always believed he would never measure up? That he was never good enough for you?
You hated it—hated her.
Hated how she had turned your relationship with him into a battlefield, her disapproval so loud, so ever-present, that it became impossible for him to feel at home in your life. How dare she sit beside you now, feigning sorrow, when her constant criticisms had planted the seed of doubt that grew into the conclusion you dreaded? How dare she, of all people, offer comfort when she had made you believe that love—your greatest love—wasn't enough?
Her words echoed in your mind, the ones she'd repeated time and time again: "Love and compatibility aren't the same. Love is powerful, yes, but relationships are more than just feelings—they require shared values, aligned goals, and practical compatibility." She had said it so often that it became a mantra, one you tried to ignore until it became impossible.
And then there was him.
You hated him too—hated him for giving in, for not fighting harder, for agreeing with everyone else. For being too selfless, too considerate, too good. He'd always told you, "Family comes first. Everything else—including me—comes second." You hated that he meant it. Hated that he let you go because he believed it was the right thing to do, the thing that would hurt the least.
But most of all, you hated yourself.
Hated yourself for knowing, deep down, that they were all right. That maybe love really wasn't enough. You hated yourself for being too afraid to defy them, too afraid to risk it all for him. While he was brave enough to let you go, and your mother was relentless in her convictions, you had been the coward. You let everyone else make the choice for you because you couldn't bear to make it yourself.
And now, you were left with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of what-ifs and the haunting ache of knowing you had lost not because you didn't love enough, but because you hadn't been brave enough to fight for that love.
"The right person will come along," she said softly. You pressed your eyes shut, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. Without another word, you pushed yourself up from the dining chair, leaving your barely touched meal behind, and headed to your room.
Before you could step through the door, her voice followed you, cutting through the air like a knife. "You'll thank me one day when you meet a man who can give you all the things that boy never could."
Your fists clenched as you slammed the door shut behind you. Sliding down to the floor with your back against the wood, you let her words fester. Maybe she was right. You weren't getting any younger. Around you, friends and cousins were all settling down with partners your mother would call 'suitable.' And you hated it—hated that, in her eyes, Seonghwa could never be that person for you.
But then, the thought struck: you were your mother's daughter. How much of this was truly her fault? At some point, hadn't you begun to believe her? Slowly, insidiously, her words had taken root in your mind. You did this. To him, to yourself.
You remembered watching others build their perfect, storybook lives with partners who ticked every box society demanded. And you wondered—quietly at first, then louder—if you and Seonghwa could ever achieve the same. Could he be that for you? Could you be that for him?
It wasn't fair. Not to him, not to you. You hated yourself for the way doubt crept in, for how your mother's voice echoed in your head, pointing out the cracks and differences you had tried so hard to ignore. You hated yourself for wishing things could be different, for swallowing those thoughts because you loved him too much to ask him to change. He was who he was—his own person.
How could you ask him to mould himself into someone your mother would approve of? Someone society deemed 'right' for you? And if he did, would he even be the man you fell in love with?
It was those questions, those doubts, that began to live rent-free in your mind. Bit by bit, they widened the gap between you. And Seonghwa wasn't blind. He saw it. He felt it.
"You deserve someone better—someone who can give you so much more," he had said that final night, his voice breaking under the weight of goodbye.
It was your fault—your doubts, your actions, your silence. They had pushed him to that conclusion. And now, as the door behind you trembled with your suppressed sobs, you wondered: How dare you blame your mother for what you had done to him? To yourself?
How dare you?
"Gaming at San's place next, you coming?" Wooyoung asked, tossing a napkin onto the table as everyone scrambled to leave. The ridiculous game they'd invented—where the last one to leave had to pay the bill—had everyone laughing and darting for the exit.
Seonghwa's smile barely touched his lips as he shook his head and reached for his wallet. "Go on with them. I'll cover it."
The younger man hesitated, glancing at him before blurting out, "Dude, you can't always give in like this. Your poor financial planning skills are exactly why she left you."
The table fell silent, the air suddenly heavy. Wooyoung's grin faltered as he realised what he'd said, too late to take it back. Seonghwa didn't flinch outwardly, but the words sliced deep because they were true. Partly, at least.
It wasn't like he made much, not compared to the rest of his friends with their steady corporate jobs. And yet, he wasn't careful with what little he had. You had always been the one saving, planning, building a future he could barely contribute to. People his age were buying cars, investing in property, making strides toward a stable life. But he wasn't like them. He had chased his passion as a figurine crafter—a dream that didn't come with a steady paycheck—and he'd known the risks. Your mother was right: you deserved someone who could offer you the stability he never could.
"Hey, man," Wooyoung said quickly, guilt colouring his tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I got the bill already, so don't worry about it. Just come with us tonight, yeah? Relax a little."
But the eldest only gave a faint shake of his head. The apology didn't soften the truth of the remark. He was the reason things fell apart. Not because he didn't love you enough—he loved you too much—but because love wasn't enough.
He'd failed you. Failed to provide the kind of life you deserved. He couldn't believe you'd even agreed to be with him in the first place, so different were your worlds. Your family background, your education, your values, your ambitions—they all set you apart. He had nothing to offer someone like you. And yet, he had been selfish enough to hold on, to want you despite knowing he could never measure up.
He should have worked harder. Should have tried to step up and be the man you needed. But he hadn't, because deep down, he knew he couldn't. Perhaps he had always known it wouldn't last. That one day, you'd wake up and realise the same.
You didn't leave right away. You stayed longer than he deserved. And when you finally began pulling away, when the signs became impossible to ignore, he had to let go. It wasn't courage that made him end it—it was inevitability.
"Come with us, hyung," Wooyoung tried again, his voice gentler this time.
But Seonghwa shook his head once more. "You guys go ahead without me. I... I have somewhere to be."
It was a lie, and they all knew it. He had nowhere to be. Nowhere that mattered, at least. Just his empty apartment, where the echoes of your absence would greet him like old, familiar ghosts.
He didn't care if they saw through the lie. What mattered was that he deserved this—the loneliness, the self-pity, the regret. He had almost broken you apart from your family because he was selfish enough to believe his love was enough. He had almost stolen your future because he couldn't face the truth.
But now, it was over. You had given him the courage to do what was right in the end. He was grateful for that. Grateful you'd started pulling away. Grateful you'd given him the signs. Grateful you'd broken his heart with the words he couldn't bear to say himself.
It's time.
Time to stop pretending.
Time to let you go.
Time to let the misery end.
Yes, let it all go. Let the misery end.
He repeated the words in his head like a chant as he drove, gripping the steering wheel tighter with each mile. The familiar streets blurred past him, their lights shimmering in his tear-filled eyes. He swiped at his face with his sleeve, but the tears kept coming, warm and unrelenting. He hated himself for it. Hated that, even now, he could almost see you sitting beside him, your laughter echoing faintly in his memory.
These night drives had been your sanctuary. Just you and him, wrapped in the quiet of the world, as if nothing else mattered. Not the expectations, not the disapproving glances, not the relentless whispers about how you two didn't belong together. It had always been just you and him against everything.
But now, it was just him.
He didn't dare glance at the passenger seat. He couldn't bear the sight of its emptiness, couldn't face the truth of your absence. His mind played cruel tricks on him, filling the silence with phantom conversations, fleeting glimpses of your smile.
Everything around him reminded him of you. The way the streetlights hit the pavement, the faint smell of your favourite perfume lingering in his car, the songs on the radio you'd sing along to when you thought he wasn't paying attention. He wanted to escape it, but he knew going home would only make it worse.
Home.
The word felt hollow now. How could it be home when you weren't there? Every corner of that apartment held traces of you—the books you'd stacked neatly on the shelf, the coffee mug you always left on the counter, the sheets that still carried the faintest scent of your shampoo. He knew he should let those remnants go, pack them away, make it easier to move on. But the thought of erasing you felt like losing you all over again.
As the weight of it all pressed down on him, he slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. His hands trembled as he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, the cool leather grounding him for just a moment.
Is this hurting you too?
He wondered if you were struggling as much as he was. Part of him selfishly hoped you were, that you missed him the way he missed you. But another part—the part that loved you more than he loved himself—hoped you were finding peace. Hoped you were happier without him, that his decision to let you go had given you the chance to find the stability, the life, you deserved.
Clutching a hand to his chest, he finally let the tears fall freely. The ache in his heart felt unbearable, like a piece of him had been ripped away and might never grow back. Would he ever be okay again? Would he ever know happiness without you?
He didn't know.
He wasn't sure he wanted to. But he told himself, over and over, that this was the right thing to do. It didn't matter if he was happy. It didn't matter if he felt whole again. All that mattered was you. And as he sat there, broken and lost, he prayed you were finding the happiness he couldn't give you, even if it meant he would never find it again.
It's okay... she'll find the right person now.
The right person. Who even decided what that meant? Who had the authority to label someone as right or wrong for you?
Maybe it was the lingering ache for Park Seonghwa, the way his name still carried the weight of memories you hadn't yet learned to let go. Or maybe it was the frustration bubbling inside you, resentment toward your parents for tricking you into meeting this man—the son of your father's business partner—the one they couldn't stop praising.
Jung Yunho, the perfect man, as they called him. He was everything they'd ever wanted for you, a textbook example of stability, charm, and success. But the problem wasn't him. It was you. You weren't ready, not yet. Maybe not ever. Years had passed since the breakup, but the ghost of what you had with Seonghwa still clung to you, a shadow that even time couldn't chase away.
"Hey," Yunho's voice pulled you back from your spiralling thoughts. His gaze, warm and sincere, met yours as he leaned in slightly. "You feeling alright?"
Caught off guard, you glanced down at your untouched plate of steak and managed a small nod. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."
But he didn't look convinced. Instead, his lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile—the kind that could probably disarm anyone, just not you. "How could I not, when such a pretty lady is sulking before me?" he teased gently. Before you could reply, he reached across the table, taking your plate without hesitation. "Here, let me help you."
With careful precision, he began cutting the steak into neat, bite-sized pieces. The gesture was so thoughtful, so kind, and yet it left you feeling hollow. It wasn't the act itself—it was the way it lacked the weight of familiarity.
Seonghwa used to do the same thing, but it had always been different with him. He'd grumble playfully about how you'd never learn to do it yourself, though he never minded doing it for you. His hands were smaller, more delicate, and you'd always find yourself staring at the faint scars from his crafts. Yunho's hands, while steady and practised, didn't hold the same history.
"All done," Yunho said cheerfully, sliding the plate back to you. "Now you have no excuse not to eat."
You forced a polite smile, murmuring a quiet "thank you" as you picked up your fork. Yunho didn't seem to notice the distant look in your eyes, or perhaps he was kind enough not to point it out.
He was wonderful. Thoughtful, patient, and sincere. By all accounts, he was the right person. But as you sat there, forcing yourself to chew, you couldn't help but wonder:
What if the right person wasn't the one who checked all the boxes? What if they were the one who didn't, but still felt like home?
The rest of the night crawled by like a snail, every passing second stretching unbearably long. You shifted in your seat, wishing you were anywhere but here. Yunho was a great guy—attentive, charming, and genuinely kind. But that only made it worse. He deserved someone who could meet his enthusiasm with equal fervour, someone who didn't have her mind wandering to someone else entirely.
You sighed quietly, pushing your barely touched drink to the side. What the hell was wrong with you? This was what you'd agreed to, wasn't it? This was what you'd sacrificed so much for. Years ago, you walked away from the love of your life because it felt like the right thing to do, to pursue the kind of stability and compatibility everyone insisted was more important than love alone. And now here it was, right in front of you.
The right person.
Yet, as you glanced at Jung Yunho's radiant smile, so effortlessly warm, the thought of spending the rest of your life with him felt less like the happy ending you'd envisioned and more like a cage. A beautiful, gilded cage that offered everything a woman could ever ask for—security, stability, admiration. Everything except the one thing your heart still longed for.
All you could ever find inside yourself was the same man you'd tried so hard to let go of.
Park Seonghwa.
Your chest tightened at the thought of him, your mind betraying you with memories you'd worked so hard to bury. You wondered how he was doing, though it wasn't as if you hadn't heard. Mutual friends kept you updated more than you cared to admit, their words painting glimpses of a life that no longer included you.
You'd heard he was finally making progress with his work, his passion—the very thing you'd once defended but later doubted. He'd opened a small store, modest but filled with so much of himself. It sold various collectable art pieces: action figures, miniatures for tabletop games, and custom character figurines crafted with meticulous care. Fans of Star Wars and Animal Crossing flocked to him, drawn to the detail and love that radiated from every piece he touched.
And you were proud of him. God, you were so proud of him.
He'd stayed true to himself, despite all the judgement, all the whispers about how he'd never make it, how he'd never be good enough. He'd proved them wrong. He'd built something meaningful, something entirely his own. You were happy for him, truly, but beneath that happiness lay an ache you couldn't ignore. You regretted not being there to witness it, to cheer for him when he finally achieved what he'd always dreamed of.
But maybe that wasn't what he wanted. For all you knew, he'd moved on, found someone who stayed by his side through all the highs and lows. Someone who loved him openly and without reservation, who didn't make him feel like he'd never measure up.
Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd sworn off love entirely after the way things ended between you two.
Either way, you couldn't blame him. You wouldn't blame him. Not after the pain you'd both endured.
Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. "Is... everything okay? You've been quiet tonight." His concern was genuine, his eyes soft with worry, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.
"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes.
But deep down, you knew you weren't fine. And you didn't know if you ever would be.
"How much for that one?"
The tiny voice drew Seonghwa's attention, and he glanced down at the little girl standing on tiptoes, her small finger pointing eagerly at the figurine encased behind the counter. It was the only one displayed under glass, like a prized treasure—and in a way, it was.
He hummed, his eyes softening as he turned to look at the figure in question. The Kuromi figurine sat proudly on the top shelf, right next to the LED sign that glowed softly with his store's name: Star Mars. The design was intricate, every detail was carefully crafted with love and precision.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said gently, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. "That one's not for sale. It's reserved for someone very special."
The little girl pouted, her lips forming a perfect curve of disappointment, and his heart melted a little. But no amount of adorable pouting—or even persuasive whining—could ever convince him to sell it.
That Kuromi figurine wasn't just a piece of art; it was a promise, a memory frozen in time. It was one of the first figurines he'd perfected, the culmination of years of practice and the relentless pursuit of his passion. He'd made it as a gift for you—his favourite girl.
It still is yours, if only you wanted it.
The child's father stepped forward, lifting her into his arms as he gave Seonghwa an apologetic bow. "Don't worry about her, Mr Park. I'll convince her to go with the Isabelle one instead."
Seonghwa chuckled softly, standing upright as he waved off the father's concern. "No problem at all. Isabelle's a great choice," he said, though his eyes lingered briefly on the Kuromi figurine.
As the father and daughter moved on to browse the other displays, Seonghwa found himself lost in thought. He didn't display that piece out of pride or for show—it was there because it reminded him of you. Of the nights you'd spend sitting cross-legged on the floor of his studio, playfully teasing him about his obsession with getting every detail just right.
"She looks like you," he'd said when he showed it to you for the first time. You'd laughed, brushing it off, but the glint of affection in your eyes told him you secretly loved the comparison.
He'd planned to give it to you on your birthday, but the timing never felt right. And then, before he knew it, you were gone.
The bell above the door jingled, the familiar sound slicing through the haze of his thoughts and yanking him back to the present. He straightened up, plastering on the polite smile he reserved for customers, though the weight in his chest never eased.
"Good evening! Welcome to…" His voice faltered mid-sentence, the words catching in his throat as his entire world screeched to a halt.
There you were.
It had been years, but time seemed to melt away the moment his eyes landed on you. You stood there in the soft glow of his store lights, more beautiful than he remembered—if that were even possible. Your silk dress shimmered gently with each subtle movement, an elegant coat draped effortlessly over your shoulders. The once long hair he used to run his fingers through was now cropped to your shoulders, framing your face in a way that made you look older, wiser—but still you.
Even after all this time, his heart betrayed him. It thundered in his chest, each beat screaming your name. He clenched his fist tightly at his side, willing himself to stay rooted where he stood. Every fibre of his being ached to run to you, to close the distance, but he couldn't. He shouldn't.
Slowly, shakily, he mustered a smile, though it felt like his heart might burst from the sheer force of its racing. Then, to his astonishment—and heartbreak—you returned it. A soft, familiar curve of your lips that nearly undid him.
But then, it fell apart.
The moment shattered as a tall, striking man stepped in behind you. He moved with easy confidence, his presence commanding attention as if the universe itself had tilted slightly to make room for him. Without hesitation, his hand found its way to your shoulder, resting there with an ease that spoke of familiarity.
"See anything you like?" the man asked, his deep voice carrying the warmth of intimacy as he looked down at you.
You blinked, startled, as if shaken from a dream. "Oh… I was just…" Your voice trailed off as your gaze flicked back to your ex-boyfriend, lingering for a moment longer than it should have.
Seonghwa's smile faltered, but he quickly schooled his expression, burying the ache that clawed at his chest. He nodded politely, forcing himself to focus on the customer standing in front of him—the both of you.
The Kuromi figurine sat silently on its shelf, bathed in soft light, waiting for a moment that might never come. The air inside the store suddenly felt stifling. Seonghwa stood behind the counter, his hands gripping its edge like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
"Welcome to Star Mars," he said, his voice steady but his smile trembling under the weight of emotions. He forced it wider, hoping it would mask the whirlwind within. "It's been a while. How have you been?" His heart clenched as the words left his mouth. He wanted to sound casual, as though you were just another customer, but he couldn't. You weren't just anyone. You never had been.
You gave him a hesitant smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I've been good. How about you?"
Before he could answer, the man beside you—tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding warmth—stepped forward, his curiosity evident. "Oh, you two know each other? What a small world!" His voice was friendly, his smile sincere, and Seonghwa's chest tightened further.
He should feel relief. This man, presumably your boyfriend—or worse, your fiancé—seemed perfect for you. He was everything Seonghwa had wanted for you when he stepped away, believing he could never give you the life you deserved. And yet, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him.
You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, this is Seonghwa. He's... an old friend of mine."
Old friend. The words landed like a punch to his stomach, but he kept his composure.
The man extended a hand toward him, his smile unwavering. "I'm Yunho. It's nice to meet you! Next time my nieces and nephews need new toys, I'll know who to come to."
Seonghwa took his hand, shaking it firmly while managing a polite smile. "Nice to meet you too." His gaze flickered back to you, catching the way you avoided meeting his eyes.
As if on cue, Yunho's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he excused himself, stepping outside to take the call. For the first time since you'd entered, the air felt heavy with unspoken words.
You turned back to your ex, your eyes meeting his briefly before dropping to the counter. "Congratulations... Seonghwa," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a fragile memory. "It's good to see how far you've come."
He nodded slowly, his smile softer now, though the ache in his eyes remained. "Thank you. And... congratulations to you as well," he said, glancing toward the window where Yunho stood. "He seems amazing."
The kindness in his tone made it hurt even more.
"No," you blurted, shaking your head. "He's not... we're just... friends. I don't..." Your words faltered, your voice trembling. "I'm not with anyone."
His brows lifted in surprise, but he stayed silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. You wished he'd say something, anything, but the way his eyes softened, brimming with a mix of emotions—relief, hesitation, and something deeper—was answer enough.
Your breath hitched when your gaze landed on the figurine behind him. Kuromi. Encased in glass, displayed on the highest shelf. You remembered the countless hours he'd spent perfecting it, the way he'd proudly shown you the finished piece.
He still kept it.
Before you could find the courage to ask why, Yunho reappeared, his presence cutting through the tension like a blade. "Hey, sorry to cut your little catch-up session short, but something urgent came up at work, and I—"
Seonghwa straightened, his polite smile snapping back into place. "Of course, don't let me keep you."
Your heart sank as he turned to you, bowing slightly. "It was nice seeing you again."
You forced a smile, though your chest ached with everything left unsaid. "It was nice seeing you too."
As you followed Yunho out, you couldn't resist glancing back one last time. Your eyes met Seonghwa's, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as though a thousand words passed between you.
Regret. Longing. Love.
The bell above the door jingled again as you stepped out, your heart heavy with the weight of the encounter. Yunho was quiet as he drove, his hands steady on the wheel. The silence between you felt thick, almost suffocating, but you didn't know what to say. How could you explain the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you without sounding selfish or ungrateful?
"It's him, isn't it?" Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, soft but resolute.
Your head snapped toward him, your heart pounding in panic. "What… what do you mean?" you stammered, the guilt already clawing its way to the surface.
He sighed, pulling the car to a gentle stop in front of your home. Turning to face you, he gave you a small, knowing smile. "The man from the store. Park Seonghwa, right? He's the one you've been thinking about all night. Tell me if I'm wrong."
Your breath caught, your hands fumbling with the seatbelt as you tried to come up with a response. But the look in his eyes told you that lying wasn't an option. "I…" You paused, finally managing to unfasten the seatbelt, but your words seemed caught in your throat. "I'm sorry, Yunho. I didn't mean for this to happen."
He leaned back with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You don't have to apologise. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I knew from the beginning that you weren't exactly thrilled about this arrangement, but I still went along with it, hoping… I don't know, that maybe something would change."
You felt tears sting your eyes, and you turned away, unable to meet his gaze. "You deserve better than this," you whispered, your voice trembling.
"Hey." He reached out, his hand covering yours with a comforting warmth. "Look at me."
Reluctantly, you turned back to him, your vision blurred with unshed tears.
"You don't owe me anything," he said gently. "This… whatever this was supposed to be, it wouldn't have worked if both of us weren't fully in it. And that's okay. You know why?"
You shook your head, your voice barely audible. "Why?"
"Because this decision—choosing who you want to be with—it's for you, not for your parents, not for me, and certainly not for anyone else. It should never be about what people think or what they want. It's your life. Live it for yourself."
His words struck you like a bolt of lightning, unravelling years of self-doubt and regret. He was right. How had you allowed yourself to be swept up in everyone else's expectations, losing sight of what truly mattered to you?
You sat back in your seat, letting his words sink in, feeling a strange mix of guilt and liberation. After a long moment, you nodded, your voice steadier now. "Thank you, Yunho. For everything."
He smiled, his eyes kind and understanding. "Go on," he said, tilting his head toward your house. "And don't let fear hold you back this time."
As you stepped out of the car, his words echoed in your mind, igniting a spark of courage you hadn't felt in years.
You turned back, watching as Yunho drove away, his figure disappearing into the night. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sliver of clarity.
It wasn't too late. You still had a choice to make. And this time, you'd make it for yourself.
The shop was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional rustle of paper as Seonghwa meticulously wrapped the Isabelle and Grogu figurines the pair of father and daughter finally agreed on getting. His movements were precise, his focus seemingly sharp, but his mind was elsewhere—stuck on the brief yet piercing encounter that had just walked out of his life again.
"That Kuromi one… it's for the pretty lady earlier, isn't it?"
The father's voice broke through Seonghwa's haze, and his hands froze briefly before resuming their task. He didn't look up, focusing instead on folding the edges of the wrapping paper with unnecessary care. "You might be right," he said after a pause, his voice quieter than intended. "But it doesn't matter if it is."
The man tilted his head, a subtle frown forming as he cradled his daughter closer. "And why's that? It clearly still means a lot to you both."
Seonghwa finally glanced up, forcing a polite smile, though it faltered almost immediately. "You saw it yourself... she's with someone else. Someone better." The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, laced with a resignation he didn't quite believe in.
The man sighed, shifting the little girl in his arms so she could hold her new Grogu figurine. He regarded your ex with a look that felt far too knowing. "I also saw how she looked at you," he said softly. "And she didn't look like someone who's better off."
Seonghwa blinked, caught off guard, but the customer wasn't finished. His gaze drifted toward the cute purple figurine that was not for sale, and for a moment, his expression softened into something fragile—something etched with pain.
"You know," he began, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "my wife used to love Sanrio too. She had this little Cinnamoroll keychain she carried everywhere." He chuckled faintly, the sound bittersweet. "I always thought I'd have more time to make her smile, to give her the little things that made her happy. But time doesn't wait for anyone. One day, it was just… gone."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and Seonghwa felt something tighten in his chest.
The man glanced at him then, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity that seemed to pierce through Seonghwa's carefully built walls. "I don't know what's between you and her, Mr Park. But I do know this: regret is a heavy thing to carry. Don't let it weigh you down, not if you can still do something about it."
He gave Seonghwa a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of lessons learned too late, before taking the bag of purchased items. "Sometimes, all it takes is one step in the right direction. Don't let the chance slip away."
And then he was gone, the bell above the door jingling faintly as father and daughter disappeared into the night.
Seonghwa stood motionless behind the counter, his gaze drifting back to the Kuromi figurine in its glass case. The light reflected off it, casting faint shadows on the shelf behind it. It was meant for you. It had always been for you.
The father's words replayed in his mind, unrelenting in their simplicity and truth. He leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on the figurine made just for you, but his thoughts were elsewhere—back to you, back to all the moments that had led to this one.
Back then, he'd convinced himself he was doing the right thing, letting you go so you could find the happiness he didn't think he could give you. He thought he was being selfless, noble even, sacrificing his own heart so you could find someone better—someone who deserved you. But now, the cracks in that logic were glaringly obvious. What had any of this accomplished? Neither of you had found happiness in the way he'd hoped.
The truth was harsh: he hadn't even tried. He hadn't fought to be better for you, to grow into someone worthy of your love. Instead, he'd accepted the version of himself the world seemed to see—a man with dreams too small and ambitions too impractical. He'd let himself believe that you deserved someone like Yunho, someone who fit the mould of what your parents and society thought was 'right.'
But things were different now. He wasn't that man anymore. He'd worked hard, not for anyone else but for himself. Every step he'd taken to build his store, every figurine he'd crafted with his own hands, every small milestone he'd achieved—it was proof that he could create something meaningful. And if he could do that, maybe he could create a life with you.
His heart clenched at the thought of you with Yunho, not because he doubted the man's worth, but because he knew Yunho could never hold your heart the way he still did. Yunho was everything society said you should want—stable, charming, perfect on paper. But love wasn't about paper. Love was about the way you used to light up whenever he showed you his newest creation, about the quiet nights you'd spent talking about everything and nothing, about the way your hand had always felt right in his.
Suddenly, the idea of the 'right person' seemed so absurd. There was no such thing. The right person wasn't someone who ticked all the boxes. The right person was the one you chose to love, again and again, flaws and all.
And you had chosen him once.
The real question now was whether you still would.
He straightened, his resolve hardening like molten metal cooling into steel. What kind of love was it if he could stand by and watch you settle for less than what you deserved? Not less in status or wealth, but less in the kind of happiness that made life worth living. What kind of love let you spend the rest of your days with someone who could never truly make your heart race?
Seonghwa wouldn't let that happen—not if he could help it.
His gaze lingered on the Kuromi figurine one last time before he moved toward the back room. He needed to think, to plan, to figure out how to tell you everything he should have said years ago.
If there was even the slightest chance that you still felt the same way, he would take it. Because this time, he wasn't letting fear or pride or anyone else's expectations get in the way.
This time, he was going to fight for you.
"Well...? Aren't you going to ask me how it went?" you asked, your voice sharp, as you stepped into the house. Your mother flinched, bowing her head slightly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. She hesitated for a moment before coming up to you slowly, her eyes brimming with guilt.
"Yunho called," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "He said he wishes not to force you."
A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humour. "Of course, it took an outsider's words for you to finally see how exhausting this has been for me," you said, your tone cutting. "All this talk about marriage, about finding the right man... who is it really for? Who am I doing this for, hm? Is it for my own happiness? Or... oh, right." You smiled grimly. "It never was about my happiness, was it? It was about keeping up appearances, about pleasing everyone but me."
Your mother's face crumpled as her gaze fell to the floor. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken truths.
Your father, who had been sitting silently at the dining table, let out a long, weary sigh. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as though trying to steady himself. "We thought we were doing what was best for you," he said, his voice low, burdened with regret. "We thought... if we guided you toward someone like Yunho, we were ensuring a future where you'd be safe, secure."
"Safe?" you repeated, your voice breaking. "From what? From being myself? From choosing the person who actually makes me happy? You never trusted me to make my own decisions. You never thought I was capable of knowing what I want, what I need."
Your mother reached for your hand, her touch tentative. "It wasn't like that," she said, though her voice wavered. "We were scared. Scared that you'd make a mistake, scared that you'd regret it later, scared that—"
"You mean you were scared," you interrupted, pulling your hand back. "Scared of what people would say. Scared of what the neighbours, the relatives, society would think. But you never stopped to ask me what I thought. What I felt."
Tears glistened in her eyes now, spilling over as she shook her head. "You're right," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're absolutely right. We were selfish. We thought we knew better, but we didn't. We never meant to hurt you, but we see now that we did. We hurt you by not listening, by not trusting you."
Your father stood, his movements deliberate, his face sombre. "If he's the one you want, if he's the one who makes you happy, then we'll support you. No more pushing, no more trying to control your life. It's your choice. It always should've been your choice."
For a moment, the room fell silent. The tension that had loomed for so long finally began to dissipate, leaving behind a tentative sense of relief.
You inhaled shakily, the weight in your chest lifting just a little. It wasn't a perfect resolution—there was still so much to work through—but this was a start. A start you'd been longing for. "Thank you," you said softly, the words fragile but sincere. "Thank you for finally understanding."
And as your mother pulled you into a trembling embrace, you allowed yourself to hope that things could finally change. She smiled softly, brushing a hand against your cheek as if to assure you it was okay now. Your father stood behind her, his expression a mixture of pride and something deeper—perhaps the weight of finally letting go.
They exchanged a glance before your father nodded toward the door. "Go," he said quietly, his voice firm but warm. "Go where your heart tells you to. We'll always be here."
You blinked, stunned by their words, and for a moment, you couldn't move. But then, the weight in your chest lifted, replaced by an urgency that made your pulse race. Without another word, you turned and rushed out, barely remembering to grab your keys on the way.
Your car roared to life as you sped through the streets, your destination clear as day in your mind. Star Mars. The silly name you'd suggested in passing all those years ago, never imagining he'd actually use it. Your heart pounded harder with every turn, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. Would he still want you after all this time? Did it matter? Even if he didn't, you needed him to know. You needed to tell him how you felt—how you still felt.
Parking haphazardly in front of his store, you didn't waste a second before bolting toward it. But as you reached the doors, your heart sank. The store was dark, the lights off, the doors locked. "Closed" hung starkly on the door, though the shops around it buzzed with life.
You froze, staring through the glass, confusion and dread pooling in your stomach. It's not even closing time yet... Had seeing you earlier bothered him that much? Had you pushed him away again, without even realising it?
Slumping against the door, you bit back tears, the overwhelming sense of missed chances clawing at your chest. Sure, you could come back another day. But you'd already lost so much time, wasted so many years pretending you didn't want this, pretending you didn't love him. You didn't want to waste another second.
Your gaze drifted inside the store, scanning the shelves. Your breath caught when you noticed something was missing. The Kuromi figurine—the one you'd lingered on earlier—was gone. You frowned, stepping closer to the glass. It had been there before. Where had it gone?
"Looking for this?"
The familiar voice made you spin around so fast you nearly stumbled. There he was, standing just a few feet away, the Kuromi figurine clutched in his hand, still encased in its protective plastic.
Your breath hitched as tears filled your eyes. "You took her off the shelf?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you took a tentative step toward him. "Where were you planning to take her?"
He smiled softly, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears of his own. "I was going to take her to her rightful owner," he murmured, his voice steady but tender.
Your heart stopped at his words, and you whispered shakily, "Was? So you're not taking her anymore?"
He shook his head slowly. "No."
"Why not?"
He hesitated, the weight of years of longing and regret pressing against his chest. But then, the words of the customer from earlier echoed in his mind. Don't wait until it's too late. He looked at you—really looked at you—and knew, without a doubt, that this moment was the answer he'd been waiting for.
Taking a careful step forward, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing softly against yours. His breath hitched when your fingers instinctively curled around his, holding on as though letting go would shatter everything.
"Because you're already here," he murmured, his voice trembling with unspoken emotion.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, your heart felt whole again. The ache of countless nights spent longing for him, convinced you'd never feel his love again, melted away. Here he was—right in front of you—just like all those years ago. Yet, it felt different now. It felt... right. Because this time, neither of you would let fear or doubt stand in the way. This time, you were both ready to fight for it, to grow, to compromise, and to hold on.
"Hwa, I... I need to tell you something," you began, your voice shaking, each word heavy with the weight of years spent in silence. Your eyes searched his, desperate to convey everything your heart had been screaming in his absence. But before you could say more, he smiled—a small, trembling curve of his lips that held every ounce of love and pain he'd been holding back.
His eyes glistened as he leaned in, his forehead gently meeting yours, grounding you, binding you in a way that no words ever could. The moment felt infinite, a pause in time where your souls met in unspoken understanding.
"I love you too," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion, raw and honest. Before you could process the words, his lips found yours, soft and warm, carrying all the unspoken promises, all the years of longing, all the love you thought you'd lost.
The world blurred and softened around you—the hum of the street and the glow of the city lights dissolving into nothingness. All that remained was him, the familiar scent of his cologne, the steady warmth of his hands cradling your face, the way his heart seemed to beat in perfect rhythm with yours.
In that kiss, you felt everything: the heartbreak, the yearning, the hope, and, most of all, the love that had endured time, separation, and pain. It was as if every broken piece of your heart was mending, every crack filled with the warmth of his love.
When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads remained pressed together, your breaths mingling in the quiet night. His thumb brushed away a tear you hadn't realised had fallen, his touch tender and sure.
"This time," he murmured, his voice steady but full of emotion, "I'm not letting you go."
And you knew—you both knew—that this time, nothing would keep you apart.
Istg, this wasn't meant to be so long. I wasn't even sure I wanted to give it a happy ending at first, but then I just kept getting carried away and voila. I swear I am working on Yunho's chapter of By Order of the Black Pirates bit by bit hehe just had to get this out of my system first.
As always, thank you for reading and hope y'all liked this one! Do let me know your thoughts! <3
↳ MS stands for Mini-series; S for Series; 18+ for anything that contains mature themes; F for Fluff; A for Angst; you’ll find warnings at the start of each one-shot
☆ Drive to survive
↳ [F]; non-idol AU; Formula One Racer AU; Red Bull driver AU
☆ You belong to me
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; mobster AU; Joker/Harley vibes
☆ I know you want me
↳ [F; A]; non-idol AU; mafia AU; enemies AU; police reader AU
☆ Is Santa the new Cupid?
↳ [F]; non-idol AU; holiday themed AU; office romance AU; mutual pinning AU; bother's best friend AU
☆ Lust we both share
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; vampire AU; enemies to lovers AU
☆ Your desire
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; sugar daddy AU; university AU
☆ Take me to Paris...
↳ [F; A]; non-idol AU; mafia AU; single mother AU
☆ Obliviate Me
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; Harry Potter AU; lovers to enemies AU; tragic love AU
☆ Sugar on my lips
↳ [F, suggestive]: non-idol AU; university AU; sports AU; 90's romcom; enemies to lovers AU
☆ Who am I? ↭ Part 2
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; university AU; bad boy AU; gang AU
☆ From people you know, to people you don't
↳ [A]; non-idol AU; mafia AU; lovers to exes to aqcuittances AU
☆ bf!Yunho instagram stories
↳ [F]; smau; idol AU; boyfriend AU
☆ Above the world
↳ [F]; non-idol AU; Spiderman AU, strangers to lovers AU, highschool AU
☆ Under the pretense
↳ [F, suggestive]: non-idol AU; university AU; sports AU; 90's romcom; enemies to lovers AU
☆ How beautiful you are
↳ [F]; non-idol AU; Jane Austen AU; 1770 AU; enemies to lovers AU
☆ Thousand Miles, just to get you back
↳ [A;F]; non-idol AU; Hunger Games AU; rivals to lovers!au
☆ Take your breath away
↳ [A;F;18+]; non-idol AU; Academy AU; werewolf AU; mates AU; unrequited love-ish AU
☆ The trace of you
↳ [A;F]; non-idol AU, psychiatrist x patient AU, forbidden love AU, mutual pining AU
☆ Take Control
↳ [A]; non-idol AU; mafia AU; reader is a gang member
☆ Your worst mistake...
↳ [A;F]; non-idol AU; Hunger Games AU; stylist San AU & victor reader AU; forbidden love AU
☆ Grease and Oil
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; car mechanic AU; mutual pining AU
☆ Love Me Like A Rockstar
↳ [S;A;F;18+]; non-idol AU; enemies to lovers AU; university AU; rockstar AU; he fell first, but she fell harder AU
☆ Forget-me-not
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; illegal racing AU; enemies to lovers AU
☆ Love you, forever
↳ [A;F]; non-idol AU; boyfriend AU; university AU
☆ Preying on you tonight
↳ [A;F;18+]; non-idol AU; Academy AU; werewolf AU; vampire AU; enemies to lovers AU; mates AU
☆ bf!Mingi instagram stories
↳ [F]; smau; non-idol AU; boyfriend AU
☆ Cold Red Iron
↳ [18+, humour]; non-idol AU; Iron Man AU; workplace AU; enemies to something more AU
☆ Haunted me, haunting you
↳ [A;F]; non-idol AU; Hunger Games AU; victor AU; acquittances since childhood to lovers AU
☆ Your little monster
↳ [18+]; non-idol!au, mafia!au, established relationship!au, mafia reader!au, Harley Quinn x Joker inspired relationship
☆ Daemonium
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; demon AU; crack AU; dormmate AU; university AU
☆ I'll go animal to keep you next to me
↳ [A]; non-idol AU; mafia AU; stalker AU; university AU; strangers to enemies AU
☆ Shameless
↳ [18+]; non-idol AU; mafia AU; marriage of convenience AU; established relationship AU
☆ Black Ocean
↳ [S; A; F; 18+]; non-idol AU; pirate AU; siren AU
☆ bf!ateez drunk texting you while they're out with the boys
↳ [F, suggestive]; non-idol AU; smau; boyfriend AU
☆ best friend!ateez texting you about tomorrow's exam they have forgotten about
↳ [F]; non-idol AU; smau; best friend AU
☆ drunk texting bff!Ateez and accidentally confessing you're into them
↳ [nsfw]; non-idol AU, smau, best friends to lovers AU
☆ accidentally texting fwb!ateez about the hook-up
↳ [nsfw]; non-idol AU, smau, friends with benefits AU
☆ texting fiancé!ateez about their Coachella performance as you weren't able to attend it
↳ [F]; idol AU, smau, fiancé AU, Coachella AU lol
☆ Beyond the Obscure
↳ [S;A;F;18+]; non-idol AU; royal AU; assassin AU; fae AU; fantasy AU
☆ Cosmically divine
↳ [S;18+;A;F]; non-idol AU; Greek mythology AU
☆ ATEEZ as dads
↳ [F]; non-idol AU; parents AU, scenarios AU
☆ The Games
↳ [A;F;S]; non-idol AU; Hunger Games AU
☆ Devil!Hongjoong
☆ Vampire!Seonghwa
► Slow it down → Park Seonghwa
► Summer Lovin' → Jung Wooyoung
► Does he know? → Choi San
► Love made me crazy → Choi Jongho
► Sweeter than honey → Jeong Yunho
► Stern, but sweet → Choi San
► Cherry Blossoms → Song Mingi
☆ Boyfriend!Wooyoung → Jung Wooyoung
Help my family to be reunited with my mother and my little sister.🥺
Help my brother Yahya who is just 2 years old to back with mother. He needs her very much and she need him and us.
My brother Yahya👇
Please Shaw your humanity help us to be ruonited .
we are suffering alot without her and she suffering without us especially after my sister was born far from us and suffered alone in a strange country help us to be with her and support her .
My little sister and mum 👇
Please be with us , don't leave us alone 🙏🍉
My name is Jumana Elmadhoun
I am writing on behalf of… Jumana Elmadhoun needs your support for Help Reunite a Family Torn
“Love Languages” are just common couples therapy techniques mangled and repackaged by an unqualified homophobe. Relationships generally need all 5 love languages to be fulfilled, which is to say, everybody needs to communicate with, spend time with, and do things for their partners, and that’s got nothing to do with any special way you communicate affection.
MBTI has been proven completely ineffective at predicting anyone’s success at a particular job, and half the people who take it twice will get different results. Reputable psychologists do not recognize it, and the company that owns the rights to it uses it to scam people. People don’t adhere to strict binaries in basically anything. Very few people are going to be exclusively introverted or extroverted. It’s just astrology repackaged as pseudoscience. Shockingly enough, you can’t boil the complexity of the human experience down to a dozen Types of Guy.
The concept of IQ is flawed from the start— “intelligence” is an abstract concept that encompasses many different skills, from social intelligence to emotional intelligence to the very narrow kind of problem solving intelligence IQ tests generally measure for. It cannot predict how fast you learn, how much you know, or how logical and well read you are. It mostly measures how good you are at solving puzzles. Coincidentally, it’s also a pretty good predictor of income and education level, take a guess why. Most people’s IQ will change throughout their lives, because it’s inconsistent bullshit we’ve only held onto this long because we’re still kinda hoping we can breed the ubermensch. IQ tests and the way they attempt to categorize people are explicitly eugenicist and racist.
BMI was developed by a man known as the grandfather of eugenics, who first of all was a mathematician, not a doctor, and second never intended the formula to be used to categorize individuals. It’s intended to give a rough estimate of obesity in populations, and it’s not even good at that. It hangs around because of fatphobia and insurance companies who want it as an excuse to charge fat people more.
The study which determined people’s prefrontal cortex was still developing at 25… stopped measuring at 25. Evidence suggests your brain probably never stops developing. Stop infantilizing grown adults. This is a branch off from the larger mess of misinformation surrounding fMRIs.
If you haven’t put together what all these things have in common yet, here’s the moral of the story: STOP TRYING TO CATEGORIZE PEOPLE. STOP TRYING TO PUT PEOPLE IN A GODDAMN BIOLOGICAL HIERARCHY. EUGENICS IS BAD, AND WILL ALWAYS BE BAD, NO MATTER WHO’S DOING IT.
-> Summary: On a sleepless night, Y/n finds herself sharing a quiet, intimate moment with Mingi, who shows up unannounced and in need of comfort. Y/n reminds Mingi that he won’t ever be a burden and that she’ll always be there for him—no matter the hour.
-> Word count: 1251
The soft hum of the overhead fan filled the quiet living room. The warm glow of fairy lights draped across the wall above the television gave the space a cozy vibe. Y/n sat cross-legged on the sofa with a steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. She had always loved this time of the night—when the world seemed to calm down, the chaos of the day being left behind.
But tonight wasn’t like most nights. Tonight, Mingi was here.
He was sat on the floor in front of her, leaning against the sofa with a blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders like a cape. He somehow managed to make himself appear much smaller than he was as he huddled closer to the blanket’s warmth. The glow from the lights cast soft shadows across his face, highlighting the pout of his lips and the tiredness in his eyes.
“Y/n/n,” he murmured, tilting his head so he’d be able to look at her. “You should go to bed. It’s late.”
She chuckled softly, taking a sip of her tea. “You’re one to talk. Aren’t you the one who came over unannounced at midnight saying you couldn’t sleep?”
Mingi’s lips twitched into a sheepish smile. “Okay, that’s fair. But you shouldn’t have to stay up and lose sleep just because I’m restless.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, before placing her mug on the coffee table. “I want to stay up with you.”
His eyes widened slightly, and a soft blush could be seen creeping up his cheeks. “You don’t have to, you know? I’ll feel bad if you don’t get enough sleep and end up being tired tomorrow.”
Y/n reached down, gently tugging on the edge of his blanket. “Mingi, I’m doing this because I want to. Besides, it’s not every day I get to hang out with you like this. You’re always busy being an idol.”
The slight teasing tone in Y/n’s voice seemed to make him relax, and he gave her a lopsided grin before turning back to the television, where a random nature documentary was playing. The narrator’s voice filled the room as footage of small penguins waddling across an icy landscape appeared on the screen. Mingi pointed at a particularly clumsy baby penguin while laughing softly.
“Look at that one,” he said, voice warm and amused. “That’s me whenever our dance practices run late.”
Y/n burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room. “You’re not that bad! If anything, you’re more like the penguin up front, the one leading the group.”
He looked up at her, his eyes sparkling with playful disbelief. “Do you mean to say I’m a natural-born leader?”
“Obviously,” she teased him again, nudging his shoulder with her foot. “The penguin king of the K-pop world.”
Mingi threw his head back, laughing in that unrestrained way that never failed to make her heart feel like it was wrapped in the warmest of hugs. His laugh was definitely one of her favourite things about him—it was loud, and it was contagious, and so uniquely Mingi.
As his laughter faded, Mingi leaned his head back against the couch, gazing up at her sweetly. His expression softened, the playfulness giving way to something quieter. “Thanks for putting up with me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Y/n frowned, leaning forward so she’d be able to meet his gaze more directly. “What are you on about?”
“Just…” He shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. “I’m aware, you know? That I can be a lot sometimes. Showing up at the weirdest hours, rambling about something random most of the time, always taking up your time when you probably have better things to do…” He trailed off, looking embarrassed.
Y/n’s heart squeezed at the vulnerability she heard in his voice. She reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Mingi, I don’t ‘put up’ with you. I enjoy spending time with you. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the day or the middle of the night, you’re always welcome here.”
He blinked up at her, lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something more but no words would come out. After a moment, he smiled—the softest, most genuine smile she’d ever seen from him and one that made her chest feel light.
“You’re too good to me, Y/n/n,” he said, his voice tinged with awe.
She shook her head, a grin tugging at her lips. “Nah, I think you might just have really bad taste in friends.”
Mingi laughed again, the tension in his shoulders easing bit by bit as he relaxed against the couch. “If that’s the case, then I’m glad I have terrible taste.”
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, the documentary long forgotten as they simply basked in each other’s presence. Y/n reached for her mug again, the warmth seeping into her palms as she took a sip. Mingi, still sitting on the floor, leaned his head back, his eyes slowly fluttering shut.
For a moment, she thought he might have fallen asleep, but then she heard his soft and drowsy voice. “Y/n?”
“Hmm?” she hummed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the sofa’s armrest.
“Do you think the penguins ever feel lonely out there? On the ice.”
She cocked an eyebrow, caught off guard by his question. “I don’t know,” she replied thoughtfully. “But they’ve got their group, right? Their friends and family? They stick together, even when it’s cold and hard.”
Mingi nodded slowly, his eyes still closed. “I think that’s nice. Having people who’ll always stick with you, no matter what.”
Y/n smiled, reaching down to ruffle his hair gently. “You’ve got that too, you know. Your members, your fans…me.”
His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her. There was something different in his gaze—something tender and unspoken. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know that.”
The warmth in his voice made Y/n’s heart skip a beat, and she quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the penguins on the documentary. But out of the corner of her eye, she could see the small, happy smile that lingered on his lips.
As the night wore on, Mingi eventually climbed up onto the couch, sprawling out like a giant cat and causing Y/n to laugh at how much space he took up, but she didn’t complain when he decided to rest his head on her lap, the blanket still comfortably wrapped around him.
“Are you comfy?” she asked, her tone lightly teasing.
“Very,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric of her pyjama trousers. “Don’t move. You’re a good pillow.”
Y/n simply rolled her eyes not really protesting, her hand instinctively coming down to run through his hair. The strands soft beneath her fingers, and she could feel him relax even more against her.
The documentary eventually came to an end, the television screen going dark except for the faint glow of the paused menu. Y/n glanced down at Mingi, only to realise that his breathing had evened out, his face peaceful as he finally managed to drift off to sleep.
She smiled to herself, leaning her head back against the couch. “Don’t be silly, Mingi,” she whispered, echoing her words from their earlier conversation. “I’ll always stay up with you.”
And as the first light of dawn began to creep through the living room’s curtains, Y/n closed her eyes, the warmth of Mingi’s comforting presence lulling her into a peaceful sleep.
pairing. non idol! best friend! jeong yunho x non idol! fem! reader
synopsis. hugging yunho always leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy in the inside, even if you're standing outside while it snows
warnings. a kiss, a pet name being used (tiny act surprised LMFAO), reader is shorter than yunho (act surprised again)
genres. fluff, best friends to lovers, non idol au
rating. sfw
wc. 0.9k
a/n. my first yunho post ever ?! as a hotteok ?! also this is NAWT proofread 😓
reblogs and comments are appreciated as it helps with not getting shadowbanned!
THE first snowfall of the year happens while you’re in the library with a group of friends; you sit near the window at the far end of the table, giggling quietly while your best friend nudges your legs from underneath and across from you. you shoot him a glare, mouthing a threat at him to which he grins at you brightly, sticking his tongue out at you. your friends start leaving one by one with a quick hug before they’re out the doors, eventually leaving you and yunho alone.
“the library will be closing in ten minutes,” yunho mumbles as he checks the time on his watch. “we should get going now.”
“it’s that late already?” you ask, peering up from your textbook to find yunho already looking at you. embarrassed, you hurriedly pack your things. “don’t look at me like that.”
“like what?” he hums, a teasing tone in his voice. yunho packs his things and grabs your bag when he sees that you’re done, slinging it over his shoulder along with his own. with his free hand, he grabs your smaller one and intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of the library.
“don’t play dumb with me,” you huff, smacking his chest with your other arm. yunho laughs loudly, throwing his head back while he swings your hands. “yun, it’s snowing harder.”
“looks like we can play it now,” he grins, his eyes twinkling. your protest dies on the tip of your tongue, your head feeling fuzzy instead at how your heart swells with so much love towards the tall male, seeing his face light up and his lips quirking upwards to form a dazzling smile as he giggles, so you let yourself get dragged around in the chilling cold that bites at your nose and exposed skin.
you snap out of your daze, finding yourself off to the side of the path that leads over to the nearest cafeteria on campus. yunho hums, smiling brightly when he looks down at you, cheeks flushed a pretty pink color and his hair coated in snowflakes. standing on your tiptoes, you grab his shoulder with one hand do your best to brush the snowflakes from his hair. he leans down so that you can reach better and looks at you intently, his gaze burning into you that it makes you feel nervous, too shy to look at him when you pull back and stand properly. this only makes him smile wider, suddenly bringing a finger up to your cheek and caressing the skin before pulling you close to him, brushing his lips against yours. your eyes flutter closed, savoring the short-lived kiss while your hands tremble against his shoulders.
“you are so cute,” he giggles, pulling away just enough to rub his nose with yours, resting his forehead against your own afterwards, “my cute girl.”
you pout, “jeong yunho, at this point everyone’s going to catch on.”
“well, it’s only a matter of time before we make it official,” he shrugs, his smile turning into a teasing one. yunho pulls away and you feel cold momentarily, letting out a sigh of relief when he hugs you. you feel the vibrations from his chest against your ear when he laughs happily at your comment (you tell him to hurry it up and make things official between you two), you feel a hand rest on your waist while the other one is on the back of your head, trying to press you impossibly closer to his body that radiates warmth in the frosty, cold air of winter. you grip onto the back of his long coat, pushing yourself against him almost if you want to— “what are you doing, tiny?” he chuckles, rubbing the back of your head. “are you trying to melt into me or something?”
you mumble that you are and close your eyes, wondering if what you’re hearing is the sound of his heart or your own. you can’t make out the difference really, but you warm up at the thought that maybe your hearts are beating at the same pace.
“you’re my favorite person, you know?” yunho tightens his hold around your waist, giving it a brief squeeze.
“i know,” you laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. “you’re my favorite person, too.” with a lovesick expression that takes over his features, you look away and hide your face into his chest, hearing his heart start beating faster… or maybe it’s your heart? you genuinely can’t tell. the only thing you can tell is that your heart always aches, always yearns to be next to yunho. you wonder if he feels the same.
it’s like the brunette knows what you’re talking about when he hugs you closer to him, if that’s even possible, and murmurs something that leaves you feeling giddy.
“how about making things official now?”
while you did say yes to being yunho’s girlfriend, you two also ended up catching a cold from standing outside in the snow just to hug each other. and then yunho brought it upon himself to show up at your apartment with a blanket wrapped around him, a bag filled with warm takeout that you should definitely not be eating but how can you say no to yunho?, claiming that his duty as your boyfriend is to be sick with you.
and they say chivalry is dead! you two got sicker but hey! it’s the thought that counts!
Ina | ♑️ | I'm a corporate aged girly with a 9-5 job and try to update when I can
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This blog is a safe space for everyone where I genuinely enjoy putting out content to share with my followers. That goes without saying that if you are sexist, homophobic, racist or engaging in negative behaviors you will be blocked.
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✧ forget me not { yunho | modern magic au}
✧ away with the wind {seonghwa | dragon rider au}
✧ ardently | {san | regency au}
✧ strangers by nature | {mingi | arranged marriage au}
Taglist Signup (help me stay organized by using this form if you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics!)
࿐ྂ Synopsis: A dystopian future that is full of pain and anguish. A ruler who is merciless and rids of those who threaten his reign. A spark is all you need. A spark that will bring hope and salvage what's left of humanity.
° May the odds be ever in your favor. °
࿐ྂ Author: bvidzsoo
࿐ྂ Pairing: Ateez members x female reader
࿐ྂ Rating: mature, nc-17
࿐ྂ Genre: Hunger Games!au, violence, gore, angst with fluff
࿐ྂ Status: on-going ࿐ྂ
｡˚ ° ↷ 1. Song Mingi x female reader ↶ °｡˚
Haunted me, haunting you
╰┈➤ Summary: After the 72nd Hunger Games, Song Mingi wasn't the same. The spark in his eyes was gone, his once bright smile disappeared and his face became ashen, cheeks hollow, he was merely a shell of the man he once used to be. It hurt seeing him lose himself to the trauma he was forced to endure in the Arena, still haunted by memories...memories of killing someone you both cared about, someone who meant the world to you. Will you be able to help Mingi before it's too late? But most importantly, will Mingi be able to let you in when you bear the very same face he was forced to murder in the Arena in order to become a victor?
｡˚ ° ↷ 2. Choi San x female reader ↶ °｡˚
Your worst mistake...
╰┈➤ Summary: Your innocence was stripped the day you were reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. The life you had known, and the joy of living well were all just forgotten aspirations. The Games were cruel and terrifying, and they changed anyone who emerged as a victor, who took the crown and returned to the living. And was all that pain, terror, and haunting memories worth it? Was it worth living a life as a monster? Perhaps, yes, it was, if a man was determined enough to show you what tenderness and love meant, that to him you had never changed. But that man was Choi San, a stylist from the Capitol, another gem adored by the masses, so, could he really love you?
｡˚ ° ↷ 3. Jeong Yunho x female reader ↶ °｡˚
Thousand Miles, just to get you back
╰┈➤ Summary: You didn't want this, but then again, you were sure nobody wanted to face the repercussions of being a victor. You hated your life and you hated everyone around you, never trusting a soul again. Whatever President Snow has put you through after your Games was unforgivable and your only solace lay in Finnick Odair, who understood you and your pain. But it didn't end there, no, it never would with Jeong Yunho, another victor, always breathing down your neck and hogging you as if his life depended on it. You didn't like him and you didn't trust him after what he'd done to you despite being your mentor in your Games. And when the 75th Hunger Games come around and President Snow announces that the tributes this year will be the reaped victors, your world comes crashing down, forcing you to do things you never thought you'd do again. But if it meant Panem would be free, you'd do it again.
｡˚ ° ↷ 4. Kim Hongjoong x female reader ↶ °｡˚
Cravin', I'm cravin', I crave you
╰┈➤ Summary: Being in love with your childhood best friend was hard, especially when your feelings weren't reciprocated. Kim Hongjoong, barely a few years older than you, certainly lived a better life. He was a well-known, sought-after, and praised stylist in the Capitol, his creations renovative after the Civil War the Districts unleashed on Panem, against the Capitol . And you, well, you were still studying at the Academy, trying to figure life out and become someone on your own and not due to your parents' wealth and importance. You figured Hongjoong would pay more attention to you when you had finally decided to become a fashion magazine editor, but, no, it only seemed like that drew him closer to Tigris, the person you hated the most. Will you allow her to steal the love of your life? No, never, only over your dead body.
A/N: I was never supposed to turn this into a mini-series of sorts, but alas, here we are! Since four of our boys are getting their own oneshot's, I decided to make a collective masterlist for them, and who knows, maybe I'll add more members to it if a good enough idea comes across my mind. Tbh, I don't exactly want to start a taglist for this mini-series, but I suppose if there's a high demand then I might just. I might change the summaries for San, Yunho, and Hongjoong since their stories aren't written yet and I was going off based on their plots, but I'll see. All of these titles were inspired by songs, and maybe you should listen to Tove Lo's Thousand Miles if you haven't before because that shit was my jam in high school and I nearly collapsed while listening to it again lmao. I have nothing else much to say, except that I might post San's part around Sunday, and if not, then at the start of next week, hopefully. If you're as big of a Hunger Games fan as I am, I hope you enjoy these stories and ignore some inaccuracies, thank uu! See u around <3 divider1 divider2
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