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[arcanesea]

saturday rain

PAIRING: xu minghao x reader GENRE: strangers on the park, hurt-comfort WC: 577 WARNING: reader is stressed out

Minghao thinks there's something magical about Saturday's rain. After a long week of work, Saturday feels like the reward, but at the same time the calm before the storm. So when the weather forecast on his phone gives a 100% probability of rain (meaning it already rains when he checked the app, he just wants to make sure that the rain is equal in every part of town), he goes out with his umbrella.

His feet involuntarily make their way to the park. He expected it to be empty, even though he hoped to see little kids running around just enjoying the rain.

He did not, however, expect to see someone sitting on the bench, wearing a yellow raincoat. Getting rained on, alone, yet your face shows no emotion.

You don't seem to notice him and he wishes he could do the same. A thousand thoughts run around his head, a classic mental battle of whether should he approach you or not. he doesn't even know you but he's growing worrisome as minutes pass by and you stay unmoved.

"Care for a company?" he asks, finally approaching you. You try to wipe the water in your face to no extent.

"I don't mean to be rude," you start with a shaky voice. "But I'm completely fine," you look up to him, offering a thin smile. "I guess," you add.

Minghao just nods before walking away from you to the center of the park. At least he asked, right?

Minutes later, he found himself sitting far away from you, watching your back for signs of shaking, or anything. Anything that tells him you still feel something. He knows he will be crossing so many boundaries that he would never want if he's on the receiving end, but he can't. He can't just stand by and watch while you wait for the rain to hit a certain button that will break the dam.

So Minghao sat next to you. He doesn't talk or anything, just holding the umbrella for the both of you. He doesn't mind getting a little soaked in the left part of his body. He doesn't mind it too when you start sobbing uncontrollably. Your cries pierce through his heart, drowning the sound of the rain itself.

When you finally stop crying, the dark clouds have lifted. Only drizzle remains as the skies get clearer.

Hao stood up, offering a handkerchief that somehow ended up in the pocket of his coat, which you gladly take.

"Keep it," Minghao said. He had wanted to tell you to call him if you needed a friend to talk to or a shoulder to cry on so that at least you're not alone. But he couldn't. He shouldn't.

You thanked him quietly, trying to steady your voice. He nodded quickly before leaving you alone once again. Minghao made a mental note to come to visit the park more frequently in the future, waiting for you in your yellow raincoat.

And you, well, you watched as he walked away. A streak of color appeared on the horizon where he was headed. On top of that, you wished that the rules of "there's always rainbows after the rain" would still apply to your life.

When Minghao looked up ahead, a thin smile formed on his face. After all, there's still magic on Saturday's rain, and he prayed that the magic would still be on his side (and yours) until you meet again.

a/n. i love to stay in when it rains on a saturday... also i can cancel on plans because it rains??? why do you want me to be out on a rainy saturday???

[arcanesea]

confession

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x reader GENRE: idiot in love, friends-to-lovers, angst if you squint WC: 864 WARNING: mentions of alcohol, cursing

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" your roommate peeking from your door, all dressed up and ready for a party. You glance at them before murmuring a low no.

Seungcheol would be there and you're afraid there will be a bloodbath.

You heard them shuffling around the room, ready to leave when they suddenly appeared at your door again.

"Just leave!" you ordered with a laugh. Escorting them to the front door, bidding goodbye. You close the door afterward, sighing. Lately, your relationship with Seungcheol has gone downhill really fast. You're not even dating, not even close. No one even knows both of you used to talk on a daily basis until a week ago.

One thing you know is that he would be there at the party and girls would be dying to talk to him like usual. Except this time he might indulge them. To say that you're jealous would be weird because why would you?

You decided to sleep early, trying to shut the image of Seungcheol and the urge to text him.

It was already past midnight when you were awakened by the sound outside your dorm. You tied your hair, walking towards the front door. Half annoyed, half sleepy.

"Did you forget your key?" you mumble, pulling the door open.

"Thank God!" your roommate shouts. "Cheol said you might already be asleep."

"I was..." you said dryly. Your eyes trained on the guy who held up your half-drunk roommate. No longer sleepy, you're suddenly boiling with rage.

"I'll get going then, I was just escorting them home," Seungcheol said, looking at you. You nod your head, grabbing your roommate by the arm. His hand brushed yours, sending shivers down your spine. It has been weeks since you saw him. Even last week arguments were done through texts with no resolution. You wouldn't care much about who's with him, but it hurts twice more when it's your roommates. Not that you can say anything about that and that's just frustrating.

Your roommate held your arms, tugging on his shirt. You tried to detach them from Seungcheol to no extent because they kept asking him to come in for a moment. You had no choice but to let him in, closing the door behind him afterward. Your roommate, as annoying as they are, immediately walks to the couch and closes their eyes. Mumbling something about a headache.

You curse under your breath before turning to face him.

"I think you can leave now," you told him. "Thank you for driving them back."

"Great, so we're gonna act like nothing happened?" Seungcheol asks.

"Aren't you the one who stopped replying to my text?" you quip back, venom lacing your words. You're watching as his expression changes, jaw clenched.

"I asked you to meet but I guess your reputation matters most to you and you'd rather break this up than be seen going out with me, right?" his words hurt, but you find yourself turning to see your roommate's sleeping state. Wondering if they were listening to a word he said. "You're fucking unbelievable."

"Listen, I don't care if you want to go out with anyone, just not them" you point at your roommate. "You're just going to break their heart."

Like he did yours. But that was mostly your fault for involving even a little bit of feelings in this relationship. You were fine being best friends for the last 5 years. Coming from the same neighborhood, going abroad to the same school. Then acting as if you didn't know each other for the sake of keeping each other as a comfort person.

"And you expect me to believe that shit?" Seungcheol smirks. You really want to smack him at this point, finding it painfully hard not to.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" you hiss back. He took one step closer to you, both hands on his back. Your heart leaps, when did he become so mature? Did you really not care if he went out with just anyone?

"I don't want to go out with just anyone. I thought I was making it obvious about what I wanted," he said, chuckling lightly when your eyes widened. "You."

"That's a shit confession," you replied.

"At least I have the courage to do so?!" Seungcheol complained. "Unlike someone I know who just ghosted despite maybe having mutual feelings."

"I did not," you lied.

"What makes you think I'm talking about you?" he goes back to annoy you. "I'll prepare a better confession with long paragraphs if you at least admit it."

"I really hate you, you know that, right?" you replied, trying not to smile. "I stand by my word before, that's a shit confession, but I don't think I can word it better."

"Fucking finally!" You jump at the sudden roar of your roommate. They sat up straight on the couch, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Seungcheol's ears turned red by the unexpected setup. Both of you become an easy target tonight, blinded by the need to come back to each other to actually notice anything out of the ordinary. "Jeonghan and Joshua owe me 20 bucks each."

a/n. the pride of a leo is unbearable

[arcanesea]

he's SOOOOOO HOPELESS i love him sm

"better, now."

words・749 / pairing・hyunjin x gn!stylist!reader / includes・fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption / note・an extremely self-indulgent kinda emo take on hyunjin @ vfw. takes place in the crying lightning universe.

Hyunjin is gone.

He stopped walking and started floating about five drinks ago, bode farewell to coherent sentences and his eyesight not too long after. Simply kept plucking flutes of champagne off trays carried around by kindred waiters and let himself bask in the glorious evening.

When his stylist shows up in front of him, he mistakes them for the moon.

Gentle hands push strands of sweaty hair out of his eyes, then move to cup his cheeks fondly, protectively, as if imprinting final touches into a snow angel. He watches your lips form his name from mere centimeters away, but the sound of it seems to travel underwater.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, more audibly this time, a lick of crisp night air cutting through the afterparty’s steamy throng.

He proceeds to melt into you in ways he cannot currently control, sliding a hand over the one you have on the side of his face, fingertips dipping in the slots between yours. Bringing you close enough to him that your chest moulds right against his. Grinning at you with a sickening sweetness that he can taste on his own mouth.

“Hi,” he replies.

“You okay? How are you?” You inquire. “Do you need anything?”

“Hi,” he says again, because he can’t really think of anything else, and that seems to be answer enough.

Before he knows it, he’s walking somewhere, guided only by the arm that he has slung over your shoulders and your silhouette, just barely discernible in the dim venue, which he would follow to the ends of the earth.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he’s standing in the doorway of an unoccupied lounge. The tables of polished mahogany and gold foil have become graveyards of empty wine glasses, but the couch in the middle of the room has been left pristine.

Only after he sits down does the lightheadedness hit, and it hits hard, hard enough to shut his eyes and furrow his brow. His brain swings around the inside of his skull like a pendulum.

There is a delicate brush of your finger against his chin, your quiet request for him to lift it up, and then something hard and cold comes to rest on his lower lip. Water surrounds his tonsils and slips down his throat. A few stray rivulets escape down the side of his neck, then disappear into the napkin that you have pressed upon the skin.

By the time he’s downed the whole glass, he can feel his wits beginning to return—with them, the rest of his senses. His eyes crack open again.

“Hot,” he whispers. “It’s hot.”

You move your hands to his shoulders. Moments later, his jacket is a leather mass over the back of the couch, and he feels his dizziness subside, his oxygen return. 

“Better?”

With the music so far away, he hears the concern in your tone with crystalline clarity. He leans over to press his lips to the underside of your jaw, conveying a silent message: better, now.

He didn’t have plans to spend the night backstage, but the premise seems riveting where he comes to lie. His head nestled in the plush of your lap, the rest of him stretched across the sofa, your hand carding through his hair with the soporific lull of a mellow tide.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles suddenly, and you look down at him, confused.

“For?”

“Getting so drunk.”

If your hand is the tide, your laugh is the sand, warm and ubiquitous and all-consuming. “You had a good time, yeah?”

A good time. What an understatement for the maelstrom of feeling still raging on within him, the happiness and disbelief and pride and gratitude to himself, to you. To us.

“The best,” he answers.

“That’s all that matters, then,” you hum, your thumb dusting over his hairline. “You deserve to celebrate.”

He’s still too drunk to really think, but he doesn’t have to think when it comes to you—just knows in the very wellsprings of his soul all the love you’ve woven into the thing you’re about to say, by the infinitesimal softening of your eyes alone.

“You deserve everything, baby.”

He lifts your wrist to his lips, presses a kiss to your pulse. Above him, your features blur, then come back into focus. His answer is so soft that he almost can’t hear it over the warble of his heartbeat and the descent of his tears.

“I’ve got it right here.”

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[arcanesea]

listen

PAIRING: bang chan x reader GENRE: fluff, established relationship WC: 449 WARNINGS: implications of sleep disorder

"Chris, I think I can hear the music layers," you said to your boyfriend one peaceful afternoon. Your pupils moved left and right as if following the sound from the headphones you were wearing, freaking him out.

"Baby, how long did you sleep last night?" he asks, taking off his headphones. He had promised to come over during the weekend, yet, he sat still in front of his laptop, working on something for the last hour. Leaving you to do something by yourself.

You shrug in response, not providing the answer he needs. He sighs. It's not the first time you made that claim and every time, you're only running on 3 hours of sleep.

Not that you're ignorant about the little details, but somehow it fascinates you even more when you're lacking sleep. As if you're taking some drugs and give your imagination a little bit more to work on. Is there any research on this? Well, you were so busy with work that you never bothered looking it up.

"Let's go" Chris plucks the headphones from your ear, taking your hand in his. "You need sleep. Now."

Chris drags you to the bedroom, turning on the air conditioner before closing the blinds. You sat on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with a strand of thread on the corner of your shirt.

"But I'm not sleepy," you said quietly. You blink twice at Chris. "I haven't seen you all week, and you're working, and I'm working, and we barely get the chance to talk or watch movies or eat together or cuddle..." your voice getting smaller as you list the things you usually do with him.

He immediately melts at the statement, unable to counter it.

"Baby..." he coos. Chris walks over to you, cupping your face in his hands, slightly tilting it upwards. You pout at him, trying not to cry. Another thing that comes out of lack of sleep.

"Let's take a nap first, yeah? Then we can arrange a date." He plants a small kiss on your pouting lips. You nod in response before lying down. As soon as your head hits the pillow, Chris notices your eyes fluttering shut. Smiling to himself, he took his spot next to you after turning off the lamp.

"I want sushi," you request. "I can hear your heartbeat," you said again, breathing steadily to match its rhythm.

With a yawn, you murmured a small I love you.

Your sleep was sealed by a kiss on the top of your head, along with a soft I love you from Chris. After this, he's taking a much-needed day off to spend with you. At least he owes you that.

a/n. i want sushi to break my fast later... also tomorrow is debut anniversary!!!! my second one since i become a stay. it's funny how the time went ((not really, i mostly cried this year but anyways))

[arcanesea]

natural

PAIRING: joshua hong x reader GENRE: established relationship, fluff WC: 328 WARNING: reader is overthinking

Joshua knows all the way to that pretty head of yours. The way you think, the way you overthink, the way you play out every scenario. So when you fell quiet after he finished his story about his coworkers, he was already on his way to hold you.

"Do you still love me?" you muttered.

"Of course I love you" he smiled. His hands come up, sandwiching your face in between his palms. It's not the first time you've asked such a question, and he's never tired of assuring you that he loves you still. "Loving you is natural, darling," he coos.

Natural is a fitting word. Joshua breathes adoration for you, his hands are made perfectly to carry your heart and keep it from breaking, his heartbeat is your mantra to go through the day, and his smile is your safe haven from the harsh world.

Joshua presses a kiss on your lips, distracting you from all the train thoughts of the future's what-ifs.

"I love you, do you hear me?" he asks. If he could, he wants to have half of your worry, or better yet, make it disappear. Because you deserve all of the love in the world despite whatever people (or the voices in your head) say.

"I love you," he said again, brushing his nose with yours. He finds it easy to say that word out loud, it rolls out of his tongue almost instantly whenever you cross his mind. He doesn't even have to try.

"I love love love love love you," he said with such tenderness. He doesn't mind repeating that word, doesn't mind whispering it in your ear when you're half asleep in his arms, doesn't mind if he had to say only that word for the rest of his life.

And it helps you to relax that he loves you equally as much, if not more than you do him.

"I love you, Shua. I love you beyond words."

a/n. this was inspired by YoungK's song - Natural like that song is so soft and makes me feel loved:")

[arcanesea]

colors

PAIRING: hwang hyunjin x reader GENRE: fluff, established relationship WC: 558 WARNINGS: none

"There are only 3 primary colors, right?" you ask mindlessly as you watch Hyunjin's brush glide across the canvas. You heard a low hum from him before asking, "Who named the colors?"

he rolls his eyes, and a thin smile creeps on his face.

"What's on your mind pretty?" he asks softly, still focusing on the canvas in front of him. You had agreed to be his muse today. Though a very basic muse, you must say. He doesn't even let you hold any props, so you just sit there with a flower slipped in your ear.

"Well, orange comes from mixing red and yellow, so why not call it yed?" you propose.

Hyunjin stops to look at you with his confused face. "Yed?"

"Yes? well, you mix yellow and red? Yed? Or should it be redow?"

"You're absurd," he laughs, continuing his sweep of brush. You're cute, was what he was actually thinking. Since you sat on that chair, you hadn't stopped talking about everything, from the workplace stress you're currently experiencing, to stories of stray cats in your apartment complex. Your voice was a better substitute for the music he put on every time he started painting.

"Green should be called yellue," you push forward. Laughing when the words repeated itself in your head. "Isn't that cute, Hyune, yellue?" you ask.

"Sure, my love," he answered. "Tell me everything on that pretty head of yours."

"I think, you don't need me to sit here," you said softly. Hyunjin laughs again. If he's being honest, it's his first time drawing the muse directly. He could have snapped a picture of you and used it as a reference, that's what he always does. But who he is to say no when you're the one offering to be his muse for a day?

"Weren't you the one offering yourself?" He asks, not paying much attention to you who had started to stand. You stopped in your tracks, thinking to yourself.

"Right..." you shyly said. You walked behind him, leaning down to rest your chin on his left shoulder. You are the muse, but you're certain that the scene doesn't look anything like his painting. Not in a bad way, just in a very hyperbole way that the background colors seem to be muted while he gives you the spotlight with all the vibrant colors.

Hyunjin turned his head, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "What do you think?"

"I don't think there's any word that can describe the elegance of that painting, Hyune," you answered. "I think you're a great artist, I'm pretty sure I'm not as beautiful as the person in the canvas."

Hyunjin puts down his palette on the little table next to the canvas before standing up. He grabs your shoulder, just looking at you. No matter how many times he memorized your features, he can't stop admiring your angelic nature.

It's true that an artist's eyes see colors in a spectrum that's never existed before, but you're different. Hyunjin had always thought that he already saw all the colors of life, but your existence in his life gives him a taste of a new kind of rainbow. And he wished for nothing more than you to see yourself from his point of view.

"Believe me, my love, no colors can do justice to paint you."

a/n. Ramadhan Kareem everyone! We're well fed this month by the amount of skz record the kids released and some said we're getting cb announcement at fanmeeting😃 can't wait!!!!!!

[arcanesea]

wednesdays are really seventeen's day bcs wdym lollapalooza berlin and gose comeback!!!!!!

[arcanesea]

with you

PAIRING: vernon chwe x reader GENRE: schoolmates-to-lovers, fluff WC: 439 WARNING: implications of stressing out, and the relieving methods

Vernon hasn't stopped falling in love with you ever since he saw you sitting alone on the rooftop in high school. Each one of you chooses a different side of the building to watch the cityscape at 3 P.M. on a random Wednesday.

He was about to get down and leave when you scream at the top of your lungs, then laugh all by yourself. All in the span of a minute. He thinks you're possessed then, but when you look up and meet his eyes, you offer him the sweetest, joyful smile. He didn't think much about it, but there was something about your craziness that lifted up the corner of his mouth every time the thought came across his mind.

The second occurrence happened when Vernon was browsing in the bookstore. You were there, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the aisle. You quickly stand up to make way, losing balance before he catches your arms. You thanked him, smiling shyly.

He lets go of you afterwards, murmuring a quick “no problem,” before walking away. His heart beats irregularly. You look even more gorgeous wearing casual clothing and he can't stop thinking about the glasses you wear that frame your delicate irises.

He saw you a lot in school ever since. During lunch when you laugh loudly with your group of friends, between classes, chattering enthusiastically, in the corner of the library when you skip class to catch up on your sleep. He's drawn to you and suddenly everything is okay.

He pledged to at least say something to you during graduation, and he did come up to you, with a stalk of roses. After exchanging names and congratulations, he dared himself to ask you out.

“I thought you would never ask.” You smiled gleefully. He wasn't expecting you to agree so quickly, nor was he expecting to fall for you; unhurriedly, tenderly.

“Listen, we could just go up to the rooftop and scream,” you said on one gloomy day, a thousand dates later. “It'll make you feel better, I swear.”

“Like you do during high school?” He smiles, bringing his hand to rub your cheek. You nodded passionately, smiling back at him. Like you do the first time you infiltrate his life.

You then went on about all kinds of things to release stress; eating a tub of ice cream (your favorite), cooking (time-consuming), sleeping, and screaming out your lungs (also your favorite).

“Babe,” he called, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Thank you.”

You look at him, doe-eyed, mouthing a silence why.

“Suddenly the world doesn't seem too cruel anymore with you here.”

a/n. this was inspired by one of the conversations my best friend had with her bf. she said i could use it as a writing prompt as long as i show the finished result to her😭 so it's safe to say this one is proofread and accepted HAHAH

[arcanesea]

us in fairytale

PAIRING: bang chan x reader GENRE: established relationship, fluff WC: 368 WARNINGS: none

The first thing Chris saw on his phone upon landing was messages from you, sending a selfie with the blanket covering your head and just a simple sentence of "it's raining."

He wasn't supposed to be home until next week, but work was cut short and he's giddy from the thought of spending some days with you before he eventually has to be whirled into another seemingly endless project. So when his luggage finally comes out, he sets for one destination only; you.

You were half asleep when you heard the door open. You crane your neck, trying to blink the sleep away when the person at the door walks toward your bed.

"Chris?" you ask in a sleepy voice.

"Gosh, were you asleep?" he asks, standing beside you. You didn't respond, but he feels twice as bad when you rub your eyes. "I'm so sorry baby, let's go back to sleep."

He walked to the other side of the bed, slipping under the heavy blanket you set for this season. Instinctively, you willed yourself to snuggle closer to him, letting him put one hand under your head as you lay your head on his chest.

"Weren't you supposed to be in Japan for another week?" your voice reverberated on his chest, making him feel all kinds of warm. Mindlessly, he runs his fingers on your hair, guiding you back to the interrupted nap.

"My schedule finished early, and I missed you," Chris stated. You hummed in response, trying to listen to his steady heartbeat. Your hand is thrown across his torso, depriving any space between the two of you.

"Sleep first," you inquired, trying harder to fight off the sleepiness to deliver your next sentence, "Stories later."

"I would be here for a long time, though?" he teased.

"You can stay forever," you mumbled before completely blacking out.

It's the first time you ever said it out loud; the word forever. Chris doesn't blame you for not believing in fairytales, he never does either. But, as it turns out, being in the safe embrace of each other, warm in the pouring rain, and listening to the synchronized heartbeat can change that.

"Who am I to say no?"

a/n. you're about to get very sick of me writing abt chan every sunday i miss that man so much

[arcanesea]

give up

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x reader GENRE: hurt-comfort, burned-out gifted kid WC: 501 WARNING: reader is heavily demotivated, violent self-thoughts

"What if I just give up?" You ask nonchalantly. The book in your hands long forgotten because you can't get a single word into your head.

"That doesn't sound like you at all, though," Wonwoo commented, earning a sigh from you.

"What am I like?" you ask him then. Slipping your thumb to the page you last read, holding it in one hand. You look up to him, waiting for his response.

"I don't know, darling. What do you want to be like?" he asks back. He places his hand on your cheek, caressing it with such tenderness that makes you want to ramble all day and night to him. "You know I'm here if you want to talk, right?"

You know. Hell, he's the reason why you have the courage to explore your emotions, navigating the bubbling joy and boiling rage you experience day by day. He's always careful with his words. He knows all the right things to say at the right time.

"I don't know," you sighed again, sitting down now. What do you want to be like? Has your academic achievement been enough? Moreover, is it worth all the sleepless nights, and nauseating afternoons you had to embrace in order to get those striking A's? Or is it finally taking its toll on you when you're one step from graduating? Perfectionism like a barbed wire, tight around your throat.

Wonwoo take your hand in his. He knows everything. About the way you read everything but understand nothing at the same time, about your frustration of building a flawless method for your research, about your restless consultation. He's always ready to lend a hand if you need one, but most of the time, you only require his shoulder to cry on.

"Want to know what I think?" he asks you, tracing circles on the back of your hand. You nodded, tears are threatening to spill if you ever did as much as blink. "I think you did great so far."

You open your mouth to protest but fall back to silence. Nothing works on you anymore, you wish his word would change that.

"I also think that it's okay if you haven't figured it out yet, after all, it's a tough process. I would tell you that everyone has their own timing, but you also need to know that you don't have forever. For this one specific thing, you don't have forever. If you want to try other stuff, if you want to know what you truly love doing in life, you don't have forever to figure this one out."

And you hate how much he's right about that. You can't juggle everything in one timeline or you'll burst into flames, consumed by your own greed for achievements.

Wonwoo called your name, swiping a tear that finally escaped.

"But I hope it eases you to know that I will spend my forever walking beside you, holding your hand. You don't have to figure it all out by yourself."

a/n. this is very much self-insert idk what else to tell you bcs i be doing everything except my thesis:)

[arcanesea]

revenge

PAIRING: han jisung x reader GENRE: hurt/comfort WC: 551 WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, cursing

Han turned his head slowly towards you, confusion in his face. Just yesterday, you’re still sharing a plate of fries with your boyfriend, how come today he posted a picture kissing another girl? The gears in Han’s head were working overtime, trying to guess what you were thinking.

��I already knew,” you said when he stared at you 5 seconds longer than he usually did. You put a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth, trying to suppress the tinge in your heart. It’s no news to you that your boyfriend has been talking to other girls. It was partly your fault because you never cared when some of them came forward to you.

It doesn’t make it hurt less.

“How?” Han asked, voice laced with horror. You just shrug in response. “What the actual fuck?”

“Let him be” you sigh, scooping the ice cream. “I don’t even love him that much,” you said.

It doesn’t make it hurt less.

When you said yes a year ago, you weren’t thinking about being in a relationship. You like him, sure, he’s charming, naturally, everyone wanted to be with him. But you found out soon enough that it’ll be a burden for you. So you tried to keep it casual. You were dating but it doesn’t feel that way. It’s not like he tried anyway. You knew from the start that you’re just another score on his board.

Again, it doesn’t make it hurt less.

“Wow, he’s an ass,” Han hissed, scrolling violently on his phone. “Do you want me to beat his ass?”

“Don’t embarrass yourself,” you responded. He curses under his breath, making you glance at him. Once… twice, until a lightbulb goes on in your head. “Actually…” you started. Han looked up to you, anticipating. “Never mind.”

“It’s okay to want revenge, I won’t judge,” Han said. For the first time today, you let out a laugh. “I’ll even help if you want to key his car or any funny ideas you have.”

“I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” you blurted out.

“Pretend to be your what?” Han asked, voice rising an octave. “Are you crazy?”

“Maybe I am.” your answer makes Han visibly gulp. He was waiting for you to say that it’s a joke and that you’re not seriously thinking about that scenario right now, but you were quiet. Too quiet that he feels bad for thinking beyond playing pretend.

“Fine, one month, let’s orchestrate a scene,” Han said with a low voice. He inches closer to where you sit and your brain short-circuited for a moment.

“I’m joking,” you squeak. No, you thought to yourself, you need to clear your mind first before doing risky stuff like this.

Han let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He was ready to risk it all for you, ignoring his fickle heart.

“It’s not worth it,” you said to him again. Getting revenge will only give him satisfaction, showing that he succeeded in breaking you. You don’t want that. Han nodded his head in agreement.

It’s not worth it, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.

“We’ll find something to get back on him,” Han said, ruffling your hair a bit.

And for a second your heart mended, because at least you’re not completely alone.

a/n. i don't know what i'm doing with this one actually but the idea is good enough in my head

[arcanesea]

oh nooo!! i hope you feel better soon(╥﹏╥)

take care

PAIRINGS: boo seungkwan x reader GENRE: established relationship, sick fic, hurt-comfort WC: 511 WARNINGS: mention of dying (in a joking manner)

"Seungkwan, I am so sorry for everything…" you said. Seungkwan let out an exasperated sigh, setting the tray he brought on your bedside table.

"You're not dying, my sweet, stop being dramatic."

"I feel like I am though," you said, coughing dryly. It seems like your cold isn't getting any better so you had to cancel your date with Seungkwan. You're also thinking of taking a day off on Monday.

Seungkwan sat on the edge of your bed, placing the back of his hand on your forehead, making you hiss at the contact.

"Jeez, you're so.." he stopped himself from complaining, realizing that he's more or less the same way around you; dramatic.

"I'm gonna go buy some medicine and a first aid box. You need to keep at least one thermometer around." He stood up. "I made you soup, try to eat."

"What if I die while you're out, Kwannie?" You asked, holding on to your boyfriend's hand, not allowing him to go.

"Well, who told you to not bring an umbrella?!" he scolded you. The cold started Friday night after you carelessly walked home despite the rain. In your defense, it was only a drizzle, and the bus stop is literally across your apartment, so that's not much of a distance.

"Fine, I'll just order them," Seungkwan said, sitting back down. "And don't look at me like that."

You smile, wiggling to give him some more space.

"Can you sit? I don't think you should eat while laying down," he ordered. You move up a little, feeling a sudden headache. He snickered at your expression before helping you place a pillow

behind your back for a slight support.

Seungkwan ordered some stuff while feeding you the soup he made earlier. In no time, you've finished the whole bowl. Seungkwan put away the bowl, feeling proud because he managed to scoop out the exact amount of soup for you to finish.

He helped you with water and the last of your medicine, ruffling your hair after you made a disgusted face.

"Will you die if I leave to grab the meds and put this away?" he asks you. You let out a laugh, coughing in the process. "Aigoo, my sweet."

You shooed him with a grin. He smiled at you before leaving you with the finished meals. A sudden wave of drowsiness washes over you, you're not sure if it's the meds or you're just tired. You fix the pillow a little, laying back down. it doesn’t take long for you to fall back asleep.

"Do you want to use this?" Seungkwan walks in with a bunch of stuff he bought. The sight of you already asleep stopped him in his tracks, making him cover his mouth quickly.

He puts down the stuff on top of your drawers and walks over to your bed. He then continues to place one finger under your nose, all while trying to hold back laughter.

He fixes your hair before tugging you in tighter.

"You're not gonna die, my sweet, not on my watch."

a/n. every strong independent person needs someone to take care of them when they're sick

[arcanesea]

bang chan's bubble is like an unlimited prompt bank for short drabble... bless that man

[arcanesea]

i just saw this and i'm bawling my eyes out😭😭 please you're so sweeettt🥹🥹🥹 thank you for reading🤍

take care

PAIRINGS: boo seungkwan x reader GENRE: established relationship, sick fic, hurt-comfort WC: 511 WARNINGS: mention of dying (in a joking manner)

"Seungkwan, I am so sorry for everything…" you said. Seungkwan let out an exasperated sigh, setting the tray he brought on your bedside table.

"You're not dying, my sweet, stop being dramatic."

"I feel like I am though," you said, coughing dryly. It seems like your cold isn't getting any better so you had to cancel your date with Seungkwan. You're also thinking of taking a day off on Monday.

Seungkwan sat on the edge of your bed, placing the back of his hand on your forehead, making you hiss at the contact.

"Jeez, you're so.." he stopped himself from complaining, realizing that he's more or less the same way around you; dramatic.

"I'm gonna go buy some medicine and a first aid box. You need to keep at least one thermometer around." He stood up. "I made you soup, try to eat."

"What if I die while you're out, Kwannie?" You asked, holding on to your boyfriend's hand, not allowing him to go.

"Well, who told you to not bring an umbrella?!" he scolded you. The cold started Friday night after you carelessly walked home despite the rain. In your defense, it was only a drizzle, and the bus stop is literally across your apartment, so that's not much of a distance.

"Fine, I'll just order them," Seungkwan said, sitting back down. "And don't look at me like that."

You smile, wiggling to give him some more space.

"Can you sit? I don't think you should eat while laying down," he ordered. You move up a little, feeling a sudden headache. He snickered at your expression before helping you place a pillow

behind your back for a slight support.

Seungkwan ordered some stuff while feeding you the soup he made earlier. In no time, you've finished the whole bowl. Seungkwan put away the bowl, feeling proud because he managed to scoop out the exact amount of soup for you to finish.

He helped you with water and the last of your medicine, ruffling your hair after you made a disgusted face.

"Will you die if I leave to grab the meds and put this away?" he asks you. You let out a laugh, coughing in the process. "Aigoo, my sweet."

You shooed him with a grin. He smiled at you before leaving you with the finished meals. A sudden wave of drowsiness washes over you, you're not sure if it's the meds or you're just tired. You fix the pillow a little, laying back down. it doesn’t take long for you to fall back asleep.

"Do you want to use this?" Seungkwan walks in with a bunch of stuff he bought. The sight of you already asleep stopped him in his tracks, making him cover his mouth quickly.

He puts down the stuff on top of your drawers and walks over to your bed. He then continues to place one finger under your nose, all while trying to hold back laughter.

He fixes your hair before tugging you in tighter.

"You're not gonna die, my sweet, not on my watch."

a/n. every strong independent person needs someone to take care of them when they're sick

[arcanesea]

take care

PAIRINGS: boo seungkwan x reader GENRE: established relationship, sick fic, hurt-comfort WC: 511 WARNINGS: mention of dying (in a joking manner)

"Seungkwan, I am so sorry for everything…" you said. Seungkwan let out an exasperated sigh, setting the tray he brought on your bedside table.

"You're not dying, my sweet, stop being dramatic."

"I feel like I am though," you said, coughing dryly. It seems like your cold isn't getting any better so you had to cancel your date with Seungkwan. You're also thinking of taking a day off on Monday.

Seungkwan sat on the edge of your bed, placing the back of his hand on your forehead, making you hiss at the contact.

"Jeez, you're so.." he stopped himself from complaining, realizing that he's more or less the same way around you; dramatic.

"I'm gonna go buy some medicine and a first aid box. You need to keep at least one thermometer around." He stood up. "I made you soup, try to eat."

"What if I die while you're out, Kwannie?" You asked, holding on to your boyfriend's hand, not allowing him to go.

"Well, who told you to not bring an umbrella?!" he scolded you. The cold started Friday night after you carelessly walked home despite the rain. In your defense, it was only a drizzle, and the bus stop is literally across your apartment, so that's not much of a distance.

"Fine, I'll just order them," Seungkwan said, sitting back down. "And don't look at me like that."

You smile, wiggling to give him some more space.

"Can you sit? I don't think you should eat while laying down," he ordered. You move up a little, feeling a sudden headache. He snickered at your expression before helping you place a pillow

behind your back for a slight support.

Seungkwan ordered some stuff while feeding you the soup he made earlier. In no time, you've finished the whole bowl. Seungkwan put away the bowl, feeling proud because he managed to scoop out the exact amount of soup for you to finish.

He helped you with water and the last of your medicine, ruffling your hair after you made a disgusted face.

"Will you die if I leave to grab the meds and put this away?" he asks you. You let out a laugh, coughing in the process. "Aigoo, my sweet."

You shooed him with a grin. He smiled at you before leaving you with the finished meals. A sudden wave of drowsiness washes over you, you're not sure if it's the meds or you're just tired. You fix the pillow a little, laying back down. it doesn’t take long for you to fall back asleep.

"Do you want to use this?" Seungkwan walks in with a bunch of stuff he bought. The sight of you already asleep stopped him in his tracks, making him cover his mouth quickly.

He puts down the stuff on top of your drawers and walks over to your bed. He then continues to place one finger under your nose, all while trying to hold back laughter.

He fixes your hair before tugging you in tighter.

"You're not gonna die, my sweet, not on my watch."

a/n. every strong independent person needs someone to take care of them when they're sick

[arcanesea]

it's funny bcs the first line is probably what jeonghan is feeling as well ((knowing abt your feeling but not knowing how to point it out without being rude)) AND IT SENDS ME INTO FRENZYY HANAAAA YOU'RE SO GOODDDD

jeonghan is staring at you from across the room with unnatural intensity, and you don’t know how to point it out without being rude.

because, on the off chance that you’re mistaken and he’s actually transfixed by the appealingly blank wall above your head, it would be embarrassing. horrendously, irremediably embarrassing.

but you know yoon jeonghan like the back of your hand, and so you don’t think you’re mistaken. in fact, you think you know him better than the back of your hand, because if someone actually asked you to describe the back of your hand, you’d be fucked — but if someone asked you to describe jeonghan, you could wax lyrical.

you could tell them about how you met, three years ago. (freshman orientation, a haze of embarrassment and icebreakers.) you could tell them about his coffee order (black) and his favourite colour (also black) and the classes he hates and the classes he loves. you could tell them about how his eyes have a certain light to them, something you’ve never seen in anyone before, animated and effulgent and brilliant. you could tell them about his family; his friends; the way his fingers slot between yours; the way he laughs when he means it and the way he laughs when he doesn’t.

you could also tell this hypothetical someone that you’ve been in love with jeonghan for the past two years. and that he is totally, completely, utterly oblivious.

“your apartment’s ugly.”

(you could also tell them that he has a knack for being honest at entirely the wrong time, and you’re pretty sure he does it on purpose.)

“you know,” you say, dragging yourself out of your thoughts, “when most people want to break a silence, they ask a question or something.”

he doesn’t deign to respond.

“insults tend to be a last resort,” you add helpfully.

“not an insult,” he returns leisurely, sprawling across your couch, draping his legs over your lap. “you just need some life in here.”

“i’m alive. you’re alive. we’re both in here.” you shove his legs off. “besides. i just moved in.”

“you should get a lizard.”

your lack of surprise is a testament to how long you’ve been friends. “i’m not getting a lizard. are you hungry?”

“you could call it… barney.”

“i feel like having pizza.”

“or maybe lola, if it’s a girl. lola is nice.”

“i think we’re having two completely different conversations here,” you decide. and push his legs off you. again.

but this time, in a fluid movement you don’t fully comprehend the mechanics of, he swivels his body so his head rests in your lap.

it’s the simplest of movements, and somehow you feel like you can’t breathe. time slows and speeds all at once — heart in your throat, eyes on his for all of a moment and a half. you almost hate when he does this; such casual affection sends you reeling.

it takes you a moment to recover, and you realise he’s talking; “what?” you blurt. “i didn’t hear you.”

he casts you a strange look, but doesn’t comment. “pizza is fine, i said.”

“okay,” you reply, a second too late. “i’ll, uh. order that. now, i mean.”

jeonghan gazes intently up at you, long hair splayed on your thighs, brown eyes tinged with the faintest concern. “you’re being weird,” he says, but soft enough to come out worried — caring, more than anything. “is everything okay?”

you think back to him staring at you, just a few minutes ago. you think back to his legs on your lap with casual familiarity. you think back to freshman orientation too, the memory of his easy smile and shorter hair.

you try to think back to the moment you fell in love with him, but you can’t pinpoint that. that was less of a fall, more of a slow, inevitable realisation.

you force a smile. “everything’s fine.”

“your pants, ___,” he says, a wry smile tugging up his lips. “they are on fire.”

“i’m not lying,” you say, in a way that is so obviously and blatantly a lie. there’s a reason you’re not majoring in theatre, and it lies in your inability to keep up a facade when pressed.

jeonghan usually doesn’t press, so you’re not sure why he’s like this now — laid across your lap so you can’t look away, only breaking his gaze for those slow, lazy blinks.

“i’m gonna order that pizza.” your voice sounds hollow, even to you, so it’s not really a surprise when jeonghan sits up and takes your hand to stop you moving away.

“wait a bit,” he says, tenderness — softness, even — seeping into his voice. “i just want to say. i know.”

fuck.

your voice quavers ever so slightly. “you know? what do you know?”

as if it isn’t obvious. as if you aren’t obvious. it’s only taken two years of pining for you to get to this point; for him to get to this realisation; for you to face this rejection.

“i know,” he says softly, carefully, “about your feelings. for me, i mean.”

there’s a silence that seems to stretch forever. but it’s not more than three seconds, maximum.

“feelings of strong hatred and ill will, maybe,” you finally say, a swift rebuttal of the conversation you think he wants to have. i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way, i didn’t mean to…. you’re not doing this — not with him.

jeonghan still has your hand encased in his, fiddling with your fingers, tracing palm lines as he speaks. “i’m being serious. i just don’t know how to say — how to say what i want. not well enough.”

“jeonghan,” you sigh, because it seems that you are doing this. “you don’t have to — ”

“i love you.”

it’s odd, what three simple words can do to a person. time doesn’t quite slow down, but suddenly you are so acutely aware of everything. the clock on your wall that’s been stuck on 3:52pm since you put it up. the lightbulb jeonghan has promised to change for you is flickering. his hand is warm and soft and comfortable, and it’s still holding onto yours.

there’s a small smile working its way up your face. you don’t feel breathless, like you imagined you might. you feel like a weight has been eased off your ribcage; and under it, your heart feels full, so incredibly full. “you’re serious?”

jeonghan smiles back at you, that inexpressible light filling his eyes. “am i ever not?”

“you never are,” you say, but you’re laughing, recklessly leaning into him, curling against him in a way you’ve done a million times before, but never quite like this. you’ve never been able to press a kiss to the side of his jaw, never been able to feel him reciprocate with one on your temple — until now.

“are you not going to say it back?” he murmurs, smiling against your hair.

“do i need to?” you ask, angling back to look at him with mirth in your eyes. “you know, don’t you?”

an / i have finally written (and posted) something and i HATE it i’m sorry.

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

[arcanesea]

you guys wouldn't believe it but i always wanted to write a skz au where they're a hogwarts student and then the fanmeet theme dropped and i start writing yesterday and today this photo dropped and and and🌝🌝

...it's safe to say I'm losing my mind