could any uttered apology ever be enough? kimchi. s!her. minor. writer. tracking #orderforkimchi
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the first drops of rain | k.mg



summary — mingyu's your first love. your first date with him could be described as fairytale like, at least until it begins raining. even then, maybe the rain is a paid actor, teaching you to slow down in your fast-paced student life.
featuring: mingyu x gn!reader, highschool au
word count: 2729 words
a/n: first seventeen work! kinda thought my first svt work would be seokmin or minghao but HAHA we’re here instead with a mingyu work. it’s based off a very precious memory of mine, and i felt like mingyu’s personality was the most similar to the guy i went out with <3
mingyu: we’re meeting at the start of the trail at 9, right?
You react to his message with a thumbs up, pulling up your shoes and glancing outside. The start of the trail is only a few hundred metres away from your house, so you’re not in a rush.
Mingyu asked you out on this date a few months ago, but you were overseas during the winter break, and weren’t able to go out with him. After a few months of discussing where to go, you finally settled on going cycling with him.
The sun rose quite a while ago, and the temperature is rather warm, but you figure that it’ll all be fine.
You check the time again and head downstairs, cycling over to the subway station to meet Mingyu.
You’re a few minutes late, so you expect to see Mingyu waiting there when you arrive, an apology already on the tip of your tongue, but you’re surprised when he’s not.
In fact, you have to wait another ten minutes before he finally arrives, a little out of breath and completely lost, without a bicycle. He smiles sheepishly at you, tucking his hands into his pockets.
He mumbles a “sorry”, curly hair falling in his eyes as he looks earnestly at you, shoulders raised in his nervousness.
Your annoyance at his tardiness dissipates once you see him in this state, genuinely apologetic and well-meaning. You let a soft sigh escape your lips. It’s okay.
Mingyu raises his phone and hesitantly says he needs to pick up his bike.
You’re about to reply when an old lady comes up to you, one hand clutching her grocery stroller. She politely asks if you know where the Flower Market is?
You nod. It’s right next to your apartment block, and you often go there to buy groceries yourself. You point the lady in the direction of the market, turning back to Mingyu.
Once again, before you can speak, Mingyu jerks his head at the stairs that the old lady has to climb up to get out of the subway station and onto the pavement. She lifts up the grocery stroller, and you rush to help her with it.
She smiles at you. Thank you.
You smile back. No problem.
Tilting your head towards the stairs, you beckon Mingyu to follow. The bicycles are located at the lowest level of the apartment block directly opposite yours, so you’re heading in the same direction as the lady anyway.
Once you’ve helped the old lady get her stroller up to the top of the stairs, you wave goodbye to her, prepared to head back down the flight of stairs to get your bicycle.
Fortunately for you, you don’t have to. Mingyu holds your bicycle in his hands, setting it down at the top of the stairs, and your heart warms, just a little.
It takes a longer time to figure out how the bike sharing system works than you thought it would. Mingyu scans the QR code on the back of the bicycle, frowning as he navigates the app, trying to figure out how the payment works. You stand to the side, holding on to your bicycle’s handlebars, watching his eyebrows knit themselves into a knot, before the wrinkles in his forehead slowly iron out when he finally gets the app to work.
All set? you ask.
Mingyu nods. All set.
You climb onto your bicycle, eager to head off, and Mingyu follows behind.
With the sun beating down on your backs, the two of you start off on the trail, figuring out a pace that works for both of you. You haven’t cycled in a long time, and you can’t go too slow, or you’ll be too unsteady for both of you to ride side-by-side on the narrow path.
The greenery on both sides of the trail helps to keep the temperature down, and you’re grateful for the shade it provides in the heat of summer. Next to you, Mingyu asks how school has been. You reply with one of those blasé “school is good” type of answers, but he doesn’t accept that.
Mingyu keeps prodding.
And, with your feet pedalling hard underneath you and the glare of the blue sky overhead, you find yourself opening up.
It’s started drizzling slightly when you reach the bicycle racks, so you chain your bicycles up and head to the nearby subway station to seek shelter. While you’re standing there, you ask Mingyu where he wants to go.
Originally, you wanted to go to watch a movie, but since the date was so impromptu, you didn’t check the movie timings out beforehand, so now you realise that none of the timings are convenient for you.
It’s fine, Mingyu insists. He’ll figure something out.
It doesn’t take long before he’s dragging you down another path you didn’t notice earlier, one that leads to a train station that’s no longer in use. Two carriages of the trains are left on the tracks as a memorial to the old train station, and despite the red tape covering the doors, Mingyu climbs up into the carriage.
You’re standing on the edges of the train tracks, watching him grin at you from inside. He leaps from the seat with a yelp, almost knocking his head, and he quickly exits the carriage.
What’s wrong? you ask.
He lifts his hand to show you that the seat was wet.
You laugh whole-heartedly and he pouts, but the joy in his eyes betrays him. His poorly-concealed excitement only grows when he looks ahead to see a bridge, breaking out into a run towards it.
You attempt to follow him, still balancing on the edges of the train tracks, quickly giving up when he doesn’t show any signs of waiting for you.
He turns around at the start of the bridge, and you grin at him as you step up onto the train tracks. He steps onto the edge next to yours, your feet moving in sync along those parallel metal lines drawn across the wooden tiles, his arms waving wildly as he fails to keep his balance.
Mingyu shakes his head out when he’s fallen three times, running his hand through his hair, glancing at you with the widest smile you’ve ever seen.
Your sunshine. That’s what he is, walking alongside you as you tread across the train tracks, hands carefully tucked into his pockets, watching your every step.
He speeds up when you hop off the tracks, and you follow him into a neighbourhood with two-story houses. Plants line the sidewalks, with overgrown creepers crawling up the walls and trees overhead shading you from the sun.
He points at the sign and tells you he came here once before, after his mother scolded him. It’s dangerously close to his home, a place that contains memories you can’t be a part of, a place you’re not sure you’re ready to intrude into.
You do anyway.
Mingyu leads you to the playground he’s only been to once before, when he was running away from his mother, and you pass by the empty basketball court.
You love basketball, you tell him, your steps slowing down. He whirls on his heel, looking up at the hoops, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand. Really?
Really, you say. You tell him how you used to play basketball during your half-hour long recess in elementary school instead of eating. Even though you were really bad and only played with a group of 5-6 other friends, it was still fun.
He understands.
You teach him how to climb onto the roof of the playground, your hands and feet making holds out of the railings and slides. You show him a view of the world that you loved as a kid, a view that makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re unbeatable, invincible, and that the moment will last forever.
Slithering off the roof, you discreetly pull out your phone, but Mingyu spots you quickly enough. Don't film me, he pouts, eyebrows in a knot as his foot staggers around for a foothold.
You laugh and keep your camera pointed at him.
He hops down—ungracefully, you’d like to add; you think you were pretty graceful when jumping down yourself—and beckons you over with his hand.
Mingyu leads you to a sheltered area where the playground floor and gravel gives way to grass and soil, the trees overhead casting so much shade you get the impression that you’re in a rainforest. You can barely see past the crowns of the trees to the sky, which you’re sure is a shade of blue-grey. You can tell that it’s not raining, or the playground would be getting wet, but it isn’t quite sunny yet either.
The creak of a red swing brings your attention back to Mingyu. He smiles at you in warm invitation, and you take it, stepping up onto the swing. Your legs are on the left of his, your knees a fist’s width away from his. Opposite you, Mingyu lifts his eyes to yours and begins to speak.
How’s school, how’s life, how’s that toxic friend group in your dance club? he asks.
Stressful, interesting, shitty as ever, you reply.
He asks things like why, tell me more, is that leadership position working out for you?
You reply with much longer answers than you thought you would. The words flow from you like air leaking from a balloon with a hole. There’s so much pent-up frustration, bottled-up confusion, anxiety, envy, and even sadness you didn’t notice you were suppressing. They find their way out of your mouth in words you're surprised are coherent enough for him to understand, but somehow he manages it.
You’re not the only one telling stories, though. You ask Mingyu questions too, stuff like how’s being drama club president, do you like your juniors, what do you want to do at university?
And he, too, replies with amazing, I love them, I don't know but I’d like to be a counsellor someday.
And you learn.
From his smiles and nervous fidgeting and “um”s, you learn that he’s nervous. From the way he leans forward to talk to you and nods when you speak, you learn that his interest in you is genuine. From the tone of his voice and the smile in his eyes, you learn about his habits of joy and excitement. You pick apart his every move to learn something from it, absorbing a little more knowledge about him each time.
An hour or two passes. As it starts to drizzle again and lunch hour approaches, Mingyu gets up from the swing, not forgetting to hold it while you step off, and goes to the bench to get his tote bag before his things are drenched in the rain.
With a hand above your heads shielding you from the drizzle, the two of you half run-half walk to the mall nearby for lunch, raucous laughter echoing in your ears.
Mingyu offers to pay for your lunch thrice, and you refuse each time, reluctant to let him take money out of his allowance to pay for your meal. He insists you should let him pay for it, telling you that his father will give him more money. Still, you decline.
When he goes to visit the restroom, you quickly take your chance to buy your food before he gets back.
You take a seat successfully and wait for him to return, and he does—not without him trying to slide the bill into your bag first. After a while, he finally gives in, and the two of you settle down for lunch.
Lunch ends at around the same time the sky clears, and the two of you are rushing to climb onto your bicycles and leave before the rain starts up again. The weather has been unpredictable that morning, and you’re unwilling to take your chances. Instead of lingering around the mall, you’re unlocking your bicycle, fiddling with the stubborn lock, and Mingyu waits patiently beside you.
All set? he asks for the second time that day.
You reply the same way, All set.
Then you’re off, legs pedalling furiously, your balance miles better when you’re moving fast. In the morning, you had to keep swerving to avoid knocking into Mingyu at the slow pace you were going, but now you’re just trying to get home before it rains again. Your curfew is pretty early, and if you dally any longer, you’re definitely going to get an earful when you’re home.
Mingyu easily keeps pace with you, following your lead. From time to time, he’ll catch up and ride beside you for a stretch, and then you’ll pedal faster and he’ll fall behind again.
You feel the drizzle beginning when you ring your bell, bypassing yet another jogger on the trail. Cursing, you pick up speed, and Mingyu doesn’t question you as he follows behind.
The rain grows heavier more quickly than you’d expected, and soon there’s a steady stream of water raining down. You wipe futilely at your forehead from time to time, glasses sprayed with raindrops, and Mingyu calls out after you, laughing.
I’m not supposed to cycle in the rain, you tell him. My mum is going to kill me!
He seems to get it, but when you seek shelter under an overhead bridge to wipe your face with the remaining dry part of your T-shirt, he’s laughing at you.
You roll your eyes and point out the bits of water on his face, but he shrugs. You’re going to be cycling through the rain again anyway, so he doesn’t see the need to dry his face.
You clench your jaw, resolved to get home as soon as possible. The two of you climb back onto the bicycle, and start cycling home.
As if trying to deliberately annoy you, the downpour only gets heavier on your way home. It keeps coming down, and you fight to keep your balance and not skid on the watery path. You’re forced to slow down a little, your legs no longer pedalling as fast.
Your anxious heart begins to slow, and Mingyu's calm, sure voice carries over to you, despite the rain falling steadily around you. The sun is still high in the sky, and you wonder if there'll be a rainbow. That would be befitting for Mingyu, you think.
The whole way back, your mind is occupied by Mingyu's questions, his curiosity warming your heart. He genuinely cares about you, and this care distracts you from your fear of reaching home late. All thoughts of what your mother will say go out the window, until he's returned his bicycle and you've parked yours near the subway station, heading to the toilet to change into a new, dry shirt.
Mingyu didn't think to bring change, so he waits for you outside. He offers to help carry your bag, but you insist you can do it yourself. Just the thought that he's there, waiting outside, comforts you.
The two of you walk alongside each other on the way back to your home. You won't stop him from walking you home, especially not when you enjoy his company so much. He mentions something about his future family and you stiffen, afraid that he's jumping the gun. Your commitment issues start to resurface, your mind whirring as your heart jumps into panic mode, but you force yourself to take a few deep breaths and laugh.
He seems too happy to notice how forced your laugh is. Instead, he's asking for your mother's name, repeating it the whole way to make sure he's got it right.
Mrs? he asks.
Aunty, you correct.
Aunty, he repeats, and you nod your head. He asks for your father's, too, and he's still mumbling their names when you come up to the door. You ring the doorbell, and your mother comes to open the door, greeting Mingyu with a warm smile and a hearty welcome.
Come on in, she says. Mingyu shakes his head bashfully.
I've got to be going, he says. See you, Aunty.
You step into the house and wave at him until he's out of sight, your mother watching his retreating figure with you.
He seems like a nice boy, she says.
Oh, he is.
#happy mingyu day !!#i love this fic :(#i queued this when missing the boy i wrote this about#it was a rough time for me but now i'm over it <3#anyway i hope mingyu receives all things good in his life#srb
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if you aren't best friends with your lover and a little bit in love with all your friends than what's the fucking point
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thank u for the tagg nini!
tagging: @slytherinshua ,, @blue-jisungs ,, @wheeboo ,, @fairyhaos ,, @icyminghao ,, @welcometomyoasis ,, @honeyciders and anyone else who would like to do it!
Fun little quiz
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#LMAOO looking back on this it's a little insane#screw him honestly cuz wdym he said he would cheat on me if given the chance 💀💀#🥬 — kimchi's side dish
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crochet dates | nct dream ot7



featuring: non idol!nct dream x gn!reader, est. relationship
word count: 1553 words
summary — just brainrot. wondering how nct dream in an established relationship would treat you.
mark - friday nights crocheting in the car
The dim lighting of the car makes it difficult for you to see what you’re crocheting, so you take out your phone and turn the flashlight on. You prop it up on the holder on the side, checking with Mark to see if it’s blinding him.
He gladly says it isn’t. He’s driving you home from work, and all the tension in your shoulders slowly ebbs away as you lose yourself in crocheting, biting your lip in concentration as you focus on making this bag for yourself.
“Dang, you’re really dedicated to this thing, aren’t you? How long have you spent on this?”
You shrug. “Maybe a couple of days? Not long.”
Mark raises his eyebrows. “That’s kind of long. And really deliberate too.”
To you, it’s just a fun hobby, but Mark’s seriously impressed by your dedication. This might also be because you’ve crocheted a bouquet for him before, and he was over the moon.
Mark tries not to get distracted by your moving hands and the shaky light, but it’s a little hard when you’re right next to him and all he wants to do is watch you forever.
Every time you come to a red light, Mark’s turning his head to look over at you. His mouth’s almost hanging open as he watches you in awe, and when you catch him, you can’t help but blush.
renjun - sunrise cycling to the beach
When Renjun asks you out on a date, he’s thought everything through, from the location to the timing to the food. There’s picnic mats and snacks and plenty of water to keep you both hydrated, though you’ll never know how he managed to fit all of that into the basket at the front of his bicycle.
He hums as you cycle along, never seeming to be short of breath, and once you’ve found a rhythm, you lend your voice to his songs. You’re not a great singer, but he doesn’t mind.
You manage to catch the sunrise—at the expense of your sleep—at the beach, just in time to watch the sun slowly climb up the horizon, as if emerging from the surface of the ocean.
After you’ve watched the sun rise, you take out your yarn and begin to crochet. Renjun watches you with hearts in his eyes.
He won’t admit it, but you caught sight of his open sketchbook, and realised that he was sketching you crocheting. It may or may not have been for him to paint when you get back.
But he can keep that secret, because the bucket hat you’re working on is for him too, not that he knows it.
jeno - the yarn shop
You don’t frequent the yarn shop so often for no reason. They have a room specifically for people to crochet in, and they won’t kick you out if you put your headphones on and stay in there for hours.
They’ve created a comfortable atmosphere that you love to sit in, ruminating in the cool air and enjoying the comfortable chairs.
Jeno alternates between watching you with his head in his hands and reading his book, which explains why he’s only read forty pages after an hour.
You don’t mind, though. He’s not disturbing you, and sometimes he tucks your hair behind your ear when he sees it falling in front of your eyes and obscuring your vision. At other times, he tries to peer over your shoulder to understand how your hand movement is creating this thing, but he can’t quite comprehend it.
Obviously, he insists on paying for all your purchases, and you’re powerless to stop him. It’s a little odd, because some of the yarn is going to become your gift to him for your upcoming anniversary, but to tell him that would ruin the surprise.
So instead, you let him pay for it, and slip the notes back into his wallet when you’re walking out of the store, making sure he doesn’t notice.
(Even if he did, he wouldn’t protest.)
haechan - wet weather plan
Haechan would never intentionally set out to have a date at home. He itches to leave the house, his restless spirit preventing him from being able to sit still in an enclosed space for too long.
But the original date that he had planned, going to the park for a run, is impossible with the downpour outside. He suggested going to the park anyway, saying he would hold the umbrella for both of you, but you refused.
The wind is strong that day, and you don’t enjoy getting wet. With some persuasion, you managed to convince him to stay at home with you and watch a movie. Wonka’s playing on the screen while you crochet, Haechan’s arm draped over your shoulder.
When you move, his arm moves too, but he’s too absorbed in the movie to be bothered. When he thinks you’re not looking, he sneaks glances at you. He really loves to watch you concentrate on things, especially things that you’re good at.
He slowly but surely leans over, tugging playfully at your yarn, and you swat his hand away before he can do any damage to your precious creation.
He laughs, tipping his head back, and you press a kiss to his lips before he can do anything else.
He stares at you in shock, and you smirk back at him, knowing he secretly adores it when you kiss him first.
jaemin - tuesday afternoons curled up on your couch
Jaemin’s not the type of person to force you to drain your social battery by going out on a date, so this afternoon has been completely set aside for the two of you to just sit on the couch and relax.
The problem is, you have a short attention span. Since Jaemin just wants to spend quality time with you, he doesn’t really care what you’re doing, so you start taking out your yarn and hook and begin crocheting, cozily snuggling into his sweater.
He shifts so that you can be more comfortable, the textured fabric wrapping around your ears and muffling the sounds of the outside world, allowing you to focus on what you’re doing with your hands.
Jaemin watches you with fascination, raptured by your swift movements and the way the hook slips in and out of your work.
He asks you to teach him how to do it, and of course you do, scrambling to find a hook to lend him to use and finding another end of the yarn for him to work with. You wrap your hands around his, guiding him, and he’s thrilled by the fact that you’re touching him.
He really, really loves you.
You end up snapping a few pictures of him, but they’re all blurry because he gets shy and tries to stop you whenever he notices, causing the camera to get shaken around.
chenle - arts and craft
Chenle can’t crochet, but he’s good with his hands, which is why his tongue is sticking out while he tries to figure out how embroidery works from a Youtube video. The video is playing at half the regular speed, and Chenle’s brows are furrowed as he replays the video again and again.
You’re sitting across from him, crocheting a scarf for him.
He told you he doesn’t wear scarves, to which you told him he could, after you were done. You told him that it was rude to reject your gift, and he had nothing to say to that, so he shut his mouth and continued embroidering.
He eventually manages to get it, after you’ve done ten rows of the scarf, and he excitedly calls your name.
You look up and realise that he’s embroidered your name on the back of his jersey, just above his name. It’s small, so no one else can see it, but Chenle insists that that’s the point.
(You think he’s just too lazy to embroider something over a larger area, but you’re not complaining. You think he’s done a great job, and you tell him that.)
“Anyway, only the two of us need to know that it’s there,” Chenle says. “It can be our little secret.”
Your heart warms at his words.
jisung - the library
Jisung has tried to learn to crochet from you last time, but it failed because he didn’t understand how to control the tension or the way he held his hook.
He’d try again, but the frustration drives him crazy. He can’t stand knowing that there’s something that he can’t do, so he deals with it by avoiding the topic completely.
He’s in the library to work on his homework, furiously typing away while you sit next to him and crochet.
When you first sat down, Jisung had given you a string and tied it to your pinky and his pinky. It’s not a very long piece of string, so when you move your hand, it pulls the string taut and tugs on Jisung’s hand.
It comforts him, knowing that you’re there and shifting and present. Every now and then, he casts a glance over at you, as if to make sure that you’re still there. Each time you catch his eye, you smile reassuringly at him.
“I’m still here, Ji.”
“Just checking.”
“I’ll always be here.”
#thinking about this jisung... he reminds me of myself#craving physical contact yet hating to be touched#i too would like to have a red string connecting me and my lover#perhaps we would hook pinkies and walk down the street#srb
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deeply obsessed with this
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ty for the tag @fxstpace! don't stan enhypen actually but this was super cute 🩵🩵 quite accurate i'd say?
tagging: @blue-jisungs ,, @slytherinshua ,, @welcometomyoasis ,, @wheeboo ,, @gluion ,, @haecien ,, @raevyng + anyone else who'd like to do it!
which enhypen member were you written by?


tag game !! : @alohajun + @fxstpace + @haechanhues + @rum-gone-why + @prkhaven + @gyubakeries and anyone else who wanna join in !
#if you guys aren't engenes... sorry in advance for the tag#this was super fun to do but would be cuter if i actually stanned i suppose#🫶🏼 — tags#aspen 🥨
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happy new year kimchi!! ⭐️
hope u have the best year ahead. sending u loads of warm hugs 🫂💗
happy new year arya!! you too 🫶🏼🫶🏼
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OUR LOVE IS AN OPEN WOUND
sierra demulder // haruki murakami // nikolay tolmachev // hieu minh nguyen // sierra demulder // osamu dazai.
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i hope that in 2025 u get to take more walks, read more books, connect with more people whom u love and who love u, achieve ur goals (even if ur goals are having no goals and just living in the moment), exercise fun hobbies, move from a place of self-direction, and weave together a beguiling assortment of beautiful little moments. remember that no feeling lasts forever. love u
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HAPPY NEW YEAR KIMCHI 🫂🫂🫂 wishing much happiness and health for you 🤍
-🪿
HAPPY NEW YEAR GOOSE!! IVE MISSED U SOSO MUCH i hope 2025 treats u kindly 🩵🩵🩵
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close proximity | l.t



featuring: best friend!ten x gn!reader
word count: 925 words
author's note: happy holidays everyone!! this drabble was written for my beloved zanna <3 it's also a part of the @k-films advent calendar event for the day 7 prompt, kissing under the mistletoe.
“Y/n?”
“Yeah?” You craned your neck to look over at Ten, the mistletoe plant hanging lopsidedly from the ceiling while you kept your hand pressed against the ceiling to maintain your balance. Your other hand rested on the ladder to keep yourself steady.
Ten emerged from the bedroom with a blush stick and contour in his hand. “Could you help me put on some makeup before the party later?”
“Of course.” You set the mistletoe down on the top of the ladder before slowly climbing down.
You led Ten to sit on the couch, allowing him to place the makeup he was holding on the coffee table. “Have you washed your face?”
He nodded. Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise.
“Wait here.” You disappeared into the room for a few moments before you emerged again with a packet of blotting paper and a couple of new makeup brushes you had bought recently. Sitting on the couch next to Ten, you drew a piece of blotting paper out and demonstrated how to use it.
Ten watched you attentively, lips caught between his teeth as he nodded thoughtfully. Then, under your careful eye, he mimicked your actions, discreetly letting out a sigh of relief when you nodded in approval.
When his face was clean, you raised the contour stick to his face, bracing your palm against his cheek as you drew a line on his nose. You gently blended it out with a makeup brush before highlighting the tip of his nose and letting out a giggle.
“What?” Ten raised his eyebrows, searching for his phone. “Do I look funny?”
You shook your head, swallowing your laughter. “You look really cute.”
Ten shrugged. “Okay then.”
You added some blush before blending it out, then attempted to contour his jaw—but not without some amount of struggling. When that was done, you tilted his chin this way and that, smiling proudly when you saw how the end result looked. You brought him to the bathroom mirror, arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway and waited for him to take a look at himself.
“You look good,” you stated matter-of-factly while Ten admired himself in the mirror.
“Can I do yours?”
You raised a sceptical eyebrow at the suggestion, then shrugged. “Sure. The same things that I did for you?”
Ten nodded.
You went back out into the living room, sitting on the couch while Ten sat next to you, blush in hand as he inspected your cheeks.
“Where do I put the blush?”
You traced your cheekbones with your finger as you explained, “You can feel my cheekbones here. That’s where you should put the blush.”
“O-kay.” Ten leaned in closer, eyes slightly wide, biting his lip in concentration as he drew a line across your cheekbone with the blush stick. You drew in a ragged breath, trying not to make eye contact with him, feeling your heart beat quicker.
Once he had drawn on a line on both cheeks, he pulled away, and you breathed out shakily. Reaching for your phone, you turned the camera on and looked at yourself, turning your head to the side and staring at your cheeks.
“That’s too much,” you laughed, half in disbelief at how red your cheeks were, half in relief that his face was no longer so close to yours.
“No, wait, lemme fix it–” Ten held your face firmly in one hand as he used his other thumb to smudge the blush, rubbing your skin until he was satisfied. “There. Much better.”
You reached for your phone again, but he grabbed your wrist and shook his head. “Nuh uh. You can see it when I'm done. Now, contour.”
He showed the contour stick to you, flipping it both ways before saying, “Yep, this side’s contour.”
“Let me check?” Upon confirming that the side he was using was, in fact, contour and not highlighter, you allowed him to experiment with it on your face, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to find your jawline, soft hands cautious each time he touched your skin.
The contour stick glided smoothly against your nose as he drew on your face, each line accompanied by some amount of blending using his thumb.
You averted your eyes, tilting your chin to the side so he could see your jawline more clearly. Your gaze caught on the mistletoe lying on the couch next to his thigh, and you reached for it, holding it above your head to show Ten.
As you turned around, coming face-to-face with Ten, your breath hitched in your throat at the close proximity to him.
His fingers lingered on your chin, and you found your question dying on your lips as he gently pulled you in for a kiss.
As you pulled away, his eyes flitted up to the mistletoe above your heads, shrugging, “I had to do it. It’s tradition.”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”
“Kissing under the mistletoe,” he said simply, reaching for your jaw to smudge the contour a little.
You jerked back as if scalded. “Just tradition?”
Ten stopped, leaning backwards slightly to get a batter look at your expression. “Do you want it to be anything more?”
You huffed a sigh. “Do you?”
“I mean, I’d like that, yes, that’s why I kissed you in the first pla–” You cut him off swiftly with a kiss, then, blushing furiously, turned your face away.
Ten leaned in teasingly, shoving his face all up in yours. “Glad to know you want it too.”
if you liked it, please reblog it.
want to be added to my taglist?
#i 100% agree he is so flirtatious#if he was my bsf yk i'd be asking him “what are we” every single day#ofcc i'm so glad u enjoyed it <33#zanna ���#💭 — feedback#fic: close proximity
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close proximity | l.t



featuring: best friend!ten x gn!reader
word count: 925 words
author's note: happy holidays everyone!! this drabble was written for my beloved zanna <3 it's also a part of the @k-films advent calendar event for the day 7 prompt, kissing under the mistletoe.
“Y/n?”
“Yeah?” You craned your neck to look over at Ten, the mistletoe plant hanging lopsidedly from the ceiling while you kept your hand pressed against the ceiling to maintain your balance. Your other hand rested on the ladder to keep yourself steady.
Ten emerged from the bedroom with a blush stick and contour in his hand. “Could you help me put on some makeup before the party later?”
“Of course.” You set the mistletoe down on the top of the ladder before slowly climbing down.
You led Ten to sit on the couch, allowing him to place the makeup he was holding on the coffee table. “Have you washed your face?”
He nodded. Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise.
“Wait here.” You disappeared into the room for a few moments before you emerged again with a packet of blotting paper and a couple of new makeup brushes you had bought recently. Sitting on the couch next to Ten, you drew a piece of blotting paper out and demonstrated how to use it.
Ten watched you attentively, lips caught between his teeth as he nodded thoughtfully. Then, under your careful eye, he mimicked your actions, discreetly letting out a sigh of relief when you nodded in approval.
When his face was clean, you raised the contour stick to his face, bracing your palm against his cheek as you drew a line on his nose. You gently blended it out with a makeup brush before highlighting the tip of his nose and letting out a giggle.
“What?” Ten raised his eyebrows, searching for his phone. “Do I look funny?”
You shook your head, swallowing your laughter. “You look really cute.”
Ten shrugged. “Okay then.”
You added some blush before blending it out, then attempted to contour his jaw—but not without some amount of struggling. When that was done, you tilted his chin this way and that, smiling proudly when you saw how the end result looked. You brought him to the bathroom mirror, arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway and waited for him to take a look at himself.
“You look good,” you stated matter-of-factly while Ten admired himself in the mirror.
“Can I do yours?”
You raised a sceptical eyebrow at the suggestion, then shrugged. “Sure. The same things that I did for you?”
Ten nodded.
You went back out into the living room, sitting on the couch while Ten sat next to you, blush in hand as he inspected your cheeks.
“Where do I put the blush?”
You traced your cheekbones with your finger as you explained, “You can feel my cheekbones here. That’s where you should put the blush.”
“O-kay.” Ten leaned in closer, eyes slightly wide, biting his lip in concentration as he drew a line across your cheekbone with the blush stick. You drew in a ragged breath, trying not to make eye contact with him, feeling your heart beat quicker.
Once he had drawn on a line on both cheeks, he pulled away, and you breathed out shakily. Reaching for your phone, you turned the camera on and looked at yourself, turning your head to the side and staring at your cheeks.
“That’s too much,” you laughed, half in disbelief at how red your cheeks were, half in relief that his face was no longer so close to yours.
“No, wait, lemme fix it–” Ten held your face firmly in one hand as he used his other thumb to smudge the blush, rubbing your skin until he was satisfied. “There. Much better.”
You reached for your phone again, but he grabbed your wrist and shook his head. “Nuh uh. You can see it when I'm done. Now, contour.”
He showed the contour stick to you, flipping it both ways before saying, “Yep, this side’s contour.”
“Let me check?” Upon confirming that the side he was using was, in fact, contour and not highlighter, you allowed him to experiment with it on your face, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to find your jawline, soft hands cautious each time he touched your skin.
The contour stick glided smoothly against your nose as he drew on your face, each line accompanied by some amount of blending using his thumb.
You averted your eyes, tilting your chin to the side so he could see your jawline more clearly. Your gaze caught on the mistletoe lying on the couch next to his thigh, and you reached for it, holding it above your head to show Ten.
As you turned around, coming face-to-face with Ten, your breath hitched in your throat at the close proximity to him.
His fingers lingered on your chin, and you found your question dying on your lips as he gently pulled you in for a kiss.
As you pulled away, his eyes flitted up to the mistletoe above your heads, shrugging, “I had to do it. It’s tradition.”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”
“Kissing under the mistletoe,” he said simply, reaching for your jaw to smudge the contour a little.
You jerked back as if scalded. “Just tradition?”
Ten stopped, leaning backwards slightly to get a batter look at your expression. “Do you want it to be anything more?”
You huffed a sigh. “Do you?”
“I mean, I’d like that, yes, that’s why I kissed you in the first pla–” You cut him off swiftly with a kiss, then, blushing furiously, turned your face away.
Ten leaned in teasingly, shoving his face all up in yours. “Glad to know you want it too.”
if you liked it, please reblog it.
want to be added to my taglist?
#k-labels#k-films#🪁 — my works#ten#ten lee#nct#wayv#ten x gn!reader#ten x reader#ten x yn#ten x y/n#wayv x reader#wayv x gn!reader#wayv x yn#wayv x y/n#nct x reader#nct x gn!reader#nct x yn#nct x y/n
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deletes don’t count. this is how long you’ve known about/been part of this website. if you left and came back say when you made your first blog even if you no longer have access to it (but also tell me how long you were gone for because i’m nosy like that)
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#so it's been almost a month#hm and i have been texting almost daily for that period of time#hes confessed but i'm waiting for him to ask me out 🫶🏼#🥬 — kimchi's side dish
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thanku yena for the tag!! here are my top 10 hehe (seeing it put in perspective makes me feel so shocked like ?? what do you mean i wrote so many things in 2024? that's so insane to me and to think that they were so well received too! thank u all sm :(()
333 notes - send my love | l.jh
243 notes - i knew it first | z.cl
173 notes - sixth time's the charm | w.jh
139 notes - the first drops of rain | k.mg
130 notes - the language of flowers | l.jn
102 notes - crochet dates | nct dream
84 notes - train crush | n.yt
83 notes - bend to my will | d.sc
79 notes - worth the wait | x.dj
79 notes - if the line holds | d.sc
tagging: @welcometomyoasis ,, @honeyciders ,, @nctsworld ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @linonyang ,, @haoboutyou ,, @wqnwoos ,, @arafilez ,, @blue-jisungs ,, @slytherinshua ,, @wheeboo and anyone else who'd like to do it!!
2024 tumblr top 10!
[link] thanku to both @chwedout and @hyeongseo for the tag <3 im currently in the midst of making my ‘2024 wrapped’ post so this was sooo cool and useful to look at!!! this yr has unfortunately not been that productive for me but it’s really nice to see my top stats in one place hehe 🤭
1. 2,280 notes - no such thing as too perfect (jeon wonwoo)
2. 1,641 notes - how svt react to your cuteness aggression
3. 1,567 notes - the worst day of the week (choi seungcheol)
4. 1,432 notes - how svt react to their s/o’s baby photos
5. 1,416 notes - svt as small romantic gestures
6. 1,206 notes - how svt react to their s/o getting shy
7. 1,039 notes - how svt get cuteness aggression for their s/o
8. 1,033 notes - how svt act with their bookworm s/o
9. 916 notes - that gatekeeping dk post
10. 912 notes - love of my life (yoon jeonghan)
tagging: @blue-jisungs @slytherinshua @etherealyoungk @gyuswhore @planetkiimchi @wheeboo @96z @shohikigen @eoieopda @vcrnons @jeonsupershy @jeonwon-wonwoo to do this along with anyone else who wants to!!
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