#ode fluff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puppyluvfics · 10 months ago

Text

A Hard Day's Night | XH OT6 Reaction

OT6 | non idol!au (kinda? nothing is implied either way) WC: 3.5k (500-600 per member) Genre: FLUFF Summary: OT6 reactions to you coming home crying Warnings: none I think? light angst but nothing bad... lmk if I missed something! partially proofread! A/N: this made me so soft... wahh :<< thank u anonie for the req!

GUNIL

It had been a long day, to put it nicely. You had held it in as much as you could, with small sniffles occasionally leaving you on the drive home, which you could easily pass off as allergies. Still, as you pushed your keys into the knob, you felt your chest tighten with that all-too-familiar feeling. You cleared your throat, trying to push away the feeling, pushing the door open.

“I’m home…” You called out, your voice a bit hoarse and raw.

“Hey babe!” Gunil called back, his voice coming from the kitchen. You took a deep, shaky breath, shutting the door behind you, taking your shoes off, padding softly into the living room, sitting on the couch, and putting your head in your hands. You heard his footsteps get a bit closer, a small kiss being pressed on the top of your head as he made his way around to sit next to you.

“Woah, hey, you okay?” He asked, sitting down next to you, his hand finding its way to your knee. You nod your head, yes, but that doesn’t stop the tears from falling and the sniffles from leaving your nose.

“You don’t sound very okay... What’s going on?” He said, rubbing your knee softly.

"Nothing,” you said, trying to push it down, but he could see right through you.

“Hey, look at me.” He said, tenderly, letting you take your time lifting your head. His heart ached when he saw the tears running down your cheeks, and he reached out, cupping your face with his hands. “Hey, there you are. What’s going on, pretty baby?” He asked, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, wiping away your tears. His voice was soft, warm, and quiet. You shook your head softly, with more tears falling down your cheeks.

“Long day?” He asked, letting you go through the motions while still trying to assess the situation. You nodded as he wiped a few more tears from your cheek. “Oh, my poor baby. Come here.” He said, pulling you into his chest, leaning back on the couch, shifting so you were lying between his legs. Your arms wrapped around his waist, and his found their way around your shoulders, letting you get it out, his hands occasionally rubbing your back or toying with your hair. After a while, when your soft sobs subsided and you were left with shaky but steady breaths, he patted your back softly.

“Better?” His voice was still warm and soft, soothing your internal turmoil. You nodded, meaning it a little more than the first time he asked. He smiled softly, coaxing you to look up at him by putting his fingers under your chin. “How are you still so beautiful?” he asked, a small chuckle filling the otherwise silent room. You rolled your eyes playfully, adjusting your body so you could look at him properly.

“You’re the beautiful one, you know. Taking care of me like this...” You said, your eyes meeting his with nothing but love and admiration for him.

“Loving you is easier than breathing, sunshine. We can both be beautiful.” He said, his hand petting your hair softly. You smiled at the contact and his words, too exhausted from the day to fight back in your usual playful manner.

“Come on, let’s go be beautiful together and get you something to eat and get you some water.” He said, before pulling you into a small, tender kiss.

JUNGSU

You didn’t mean to slam the door when you got home, honestly. Jungsu was in your shared bedroom, working on something on the computer, and if it hadn’t been for the reverb of the slam against the wall, he wouldn’t have even noticed you were home. Curiously, he took his headphones off and walked out to the living room, where frustrated tears streamed down your cheeks. The last thing you needed after today was the laces of your shoes to be knotted, yet here you were, trying to force them apart.

Without saying anything, he approached you softly, letting you know of his presence with a bit more weight, not wanting to scare you or make anything worse.

“Do you need help?” He asked softly, squatting next to you, noticing the hot tears streaking down your cheeks. Everything in you wanted to say no; you wanted to be independent and have control of the situation. But even you knew when to give up. And so you nodded softly, letting yourself softly fall onto your butt onto the floor. He followed suit, sitting next to you.

“Can I?” He asked, not wanting to overstep. You nodded with a heavy sigh. He nodded back in acknowledgment, his fingers slowly and easily undoing the knot in your shoelaces, pulling your shoes off and putting them by the door next to his. You let out a small scoff, frustrated that you had let yourself get to this point.

“Hey, no, none of that.” He said, hearing your scoff, as he helped you up to your feet. “Bad day, huh?” He asked, pulling you into a tight hug.

“You have no idea.” You said into his chest. His lips found their way to your forehead, leaving a small, loving, lingering kiss.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, not pushing either way.

“No, not right now.” You admitted, your arms finally wrapping around him.

“That’s okay. What can I do for you, then, baby? Name it, and I’ll do it.” He said, his voice sincere and full of love. He always offered to do ‘anything’ but he always meant it, good days or bad. You hummed, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt.

“Can we watch that movie I’ve been wanting to see? I saw that they put it on Netflix the other day.” You asked softly.

“Of course we can. Come on.” He said, without hesitating. He interlaced your fingers, dragging you to the bedroom, sitting you on the bed. “Get comfy; I’ll be back soon.” He said. Sure enough, no more than 20 minutes later, he came back with his arms full of sweets, popcorn he had popped in the microwave, water, and your favorite drink, just as a little extra treat. He settled in next to you, arranging the snacks in front of you, wrapping one arm around your shoulder, and pulling you close to him. “I love you; you know that, right?” He asked, planting a small kiss on your temple.

“I do. I love you too; you know that, right?” You asked, mirroring his words. He laughed softly, kissing your temple again. He did know that, and even on your bad days, he felt it more than anything.

GAON

Gaon, ever the energetic one, never passed up an opportunity to greet you at the door whenever you came home; it didn’t matter where you came from. Be it work, out with friends, or just some time alone, he was always there waiting for you, ready to shower you in love and ask about how it went. So when you came home in tears, shoving past him wordlessly, he knew something was wrong—seriously wrong.

“Wh- hello??” He said, watching you shove past him and walk directly into your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind you. He stood there, bewildered for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. After a moment, he turned on his heels, following in your tracks and knocking on the door. “Babe?” He called through the door, his heart aching as he heard sobs wrack your body.

“Baby? Can I come in?” He asked again after a moment, listening intently.

“It’s open.” You mumbled flatly into the pillow. He pushed the door open slowly, taking in the scene in front of him. God, did it hurt his heart to see you like this. It was a rare sight. His lips curled into a small frown, and he stepped into the room, slowly walking over to you.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his tone more worried than accusatory. You shook your head, not wanting to talk about it, or rather, not really being able to. Whenever you opened your mouth, another sob fell from your lips into the pillow, which only tugged at his heart strings. He sat next to you on the edge of the bed, not wanting to overwhelm you but still wanting to be near you as much as possible. “Shh, it’s okay; take your time.” He said, his hand slowly coming down to rub your back, his thumb occasionally rubbing smaller circles in its trail.

“I’m just so tired.” You managed as your breath steadied, tears still falling from your eyes.

“Emotionally or physically?” He asked while nodding his head in acknowledgment. You hadn’t been sleeping well the last few days, and while he took notice, he didn’t want to make you feel like he was controlling you by telling you to go to sleep at a certain time, the same way he didn’t want you doing the same to him.

“Both, I guess.” You mumbled. He nodded again, his hand rubbing up and down your back with a bit more pressure.

“I get that. Do you wanna talk about it? Or just take a nap, and then we’ll talk about it later?” He offered, giving you the majority of the control in this situation. You didn’t have to answer verbally; your tugs on his arm were more than enough. He chuckled softly, lying next to you, pulling you flush against his body and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. One hand continued to rub up and down your back at a slow pace, the other slowly raking through your hair. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” He whispered as your breathing steadied, his whispers of love and safety lulling you into a much-needed nap.

ODE

If there was one person in the world who made you feel the safest, it was Seungmin. You had texted him before you headed home that today was just the worst; your lack of emojis really punctuated the severity. The drive home was silent save for your occasional sniffles and labored breathing, your knuckles turning white from your grip on the steering wheel. You just wanted to get home.

And home was waiting for you. The second you pushed the door open, there stood Seungmin, arms open, waiting for you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, finally releasing all of the pent-up emotion from the day, clinging to him so hard that you were afraid that if you let go, he would disappear. His chin rested on top of your head, one hand rubbing your back and the other carefully nestled in the nape of your neck, pulling you as close to him as possible.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay.” He said, walking the two of you over to the couch, taking small steps so you didn’t trip. He laid down carefully, making sure you were comfortable the entire time, his arms cradling you. You were his baby in every sense. He let you go through the motions yourself, laying beneath you as your rock, wiping your tears and whatever snot had come from your nose, his eyes never faltering in their pure adoration of you.

When you had calmed down enough to talk without hyperventilating, he sat up, sitting you up with him, pulling you into his lap, pressing his chest against your back, and resting his head on your shoulder. “There’s my baby. I’m proud of you.”

“For crying?” You asked, scoffing just a touch.

“For letting me take care of you.” He said, his tone stern but loving. It’s not that you didn’t let him take care of you often—quite the opposite, actually. He was always doting on you, pampering and spoiling you. Still, he loved to remind you that he was thankful for the opportunity, grateful and appreciative that you let him in and let him help you as opposed to shutting him out, which would be much easier to do.

You nodded at his words, acknowledging them. “Of course, I love you.” You said, your fingers tracing small shapes on his arms that had wrapped themselves around your waist.

“I love you too. So much.” He said into your shoulder, inhaling the lingering smell of your shampoo and conditioner on the ends of your hair. “You smell good.” He said, trying to lighten the mood a touch. You chuckled softly, much to his relief.

“Thanks,” you said, leaning onto him again and letting out a long, shaky sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, knowing that there were times you did and times you didn’t. He never pushed when you didn’t, but he would always sit attentively when you did.

You nodded. “I think so.” You said, getting comfortable in his lap. He hummed in response, his fingers slowly raking through your hair, parting it, and then mixing it over and over. He knew you liked it but were too shy to ask for it, but the way you relaxed in his touch made him continue, occasionally pulling your hair into a braid or a ponytail before letting it fall again, all the while listening to you talk about what was bothering you and responding when he felt the need to. And so, the night went on like this until the both of you were too sleepy to keep talking but content enough to know that things were going to be okay as long as you had each other.

JUNHAN

Junhan was never one to pry, always giving you space when you came home from wherever you were, knowing you needed time to unwind from the world in a quiet place before you were ready to be loved on. But when you came home in near hysterics, he knew that he couldn’t sit there and watch. Still, he didn’t push. He watched carefully, assessing the situation and determining the right time to step in.

That came when you dropped to your knees by the door a few moments later. He walked over to you quick enough to get to you but not fast enough to overwhelm you, kneeling by your side.

“Hey, hey, listen to me. Can you do that?” He asked, his voice soft and smooth. Despite your hysterics, you nodded, finding some clarity and light in his presence. “Good, that’s my good baby. I’m here. Just listen. I’m gonna help you stand up, and then we can either sit on the couch, we can go lay down in bed, or we can do whatever works best for you. I’ve got you.” He spoke, his voice still calm and guiding. You nodded, gesturing your head to the couch as best you could. That’s all he needed.

He stood first, offering both his hands to you and helping you stand up. His thumbs traced over your knuckles gingerly, his lips pressing into your forehead softly. “There you go; you’re doing so well. So so good.” He spoke, his voice quiet but firm. He led you to the couch, his hands never leaving yours. Once you were both sitting comfortably, he placed one hand on your back and one on your chest softly.

“Breathe with me.” He said, his words coming out as more of a gentle command than a question. He exaggerated his own breaths, taking large breaths in through his nose and exhaling them out of his mouth, guiding you to do the same. Once you got a steady rhythm, his breathing returned to normal, but he was still keeping a pace for you to follow if you felt yourself getting lost again. While you breathed, working through sobs and whines, his voice never faltered, the room filling with loving, grounding words.

“There you go, just like that. You’re doing so good, I’m so proud of you. In and out, there you go. So so good.”

His hands both rubbed in small circular motions, the one on your back going in one direction and the one on your chest going in the other direction, a small way for him to bring you back to the present, grounding you and reminding you that whatever had been bothering you was gone now; all that was left was you and him, and that’s all that mattered in this moment. Once your breathing had returned to a normal, albeit shaky, state, he let his hand fall into your lap, grabbing your hand.

“Is it a 'talk about it' problem or just a shit day?” He asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

“Shit day.” You replied, your voice hushed, resigned. He hummed in response, his hand moving up to the back of your neck, applying some soft pressure.

“Do you wanna go to bed and forget about it?” He offered, genuinely. As much as he would love to know what’s going on, knowing wouldn’t make it go away or not happen, and really, all he wanted was to be there for you. You nodded at his question, leaning over and leaving a small kiss on his cheek; it was your wordless way of saying, “I love you.”.

He helped you to the bedroom, taking special care to help you undress and get into your pajamas, his fingers occasionally rubbing out tense spots on your body in passing. He let you sit on the bed, brushing your hair for you and bringing you whatever you needed from anywhere in the house. His whispers were never silencing, full of praise and love.

JOOYEON

It was no secret that Jooyeon was incredibly protective of you. So when you came home with tear stains on your cheeks and fresh tears daring to spill over, his protective side took over immediately.

When you pushed the door open with a heavy sigh, he immediately hopped up from the couch where he had been relaxing, waiting for you. Without a second thought, he pulled you into his embrace, his arms squeezing your shoulders—admittedly a bit too much, but you didn’t care.

“What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to do something? Talk to someone?” He said, his voice full of worry and a bit of anger. Not at you, of course; never at you. Still, the fact that someone or something in the world was out there hurting the love of his life was enough for him to be angry. His actions made you chuckle softly—a welcome new feeling from those that had plagued you throughout the day.

“I’m fine… It’s just been kind of a bad day.” You said, downplaying the situation. Frankly, it was a classic case of Murphy’s Law—everything that could possibly go wrong today did, and then some.

“You don’t sound fine.” He said, sternly, pressing his chin to the top of your head, trying his best to protect you from everything in the world outside of his embrace. Your arms wrapped around him, and you let your head fall onto his chest. His heartbeat in your ear was a sweet soundtrack of purpose and love.

“I… I’m not. I will be.” You reassured him. It wasn’t that you didn’t like to be taken care of, but you didn’t like worrying him, and you especially hated feeling pitied by him, despite the fact that he has never done that. He was your person, and you didn’t want to lose that. You wouldn’t, obviously, but the way the day had gone, you were preparing for it. “Just... please don’t leave.” You whispered into the fabric of his shirt.

He pulled you away softly, keeping his hands on your shoulders. “Why would I ever do that?” He asked, his voice now quiet as well, but serious. There were hints of hurt in his words, but there was a bigger part of him that knew this was just the bad day and anxiety talking, and not that you meant it.

You shook your head softly. “I dunno. I just... everything has gone wrong. It feels like one wrong move, and you’re gone too.” You admitted. His heart ached, and he pulled you into another bone-crushing hug.

“Oh, my silly baby. You couldn’t get rid of me, even if you tried. I’m here; I’ve got you; I’m not going anywhere.” One of his hands cupped the back of your head, pushing you into him, trapping you in his warmth and safety.

“Promise?” You asked, your voice small.

“I promise, with everything in me. The only place I’ll ever go without you is the bathroom.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, despite how stupid it was, because you let out a genuine laugh—so much so that you couldn’t even fake a pout about it.

“I guess I can live with that... Thank you for being here.” You said, your tone turning serious toward the end.

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “Come on, wanna go lay down and blame all the bad things that happened today on things that have nothing to do with them?” He asked, tilting his head toward the bedroom. You nodded. It was hard to resist his playful way of cheering you up, especially when you knew it was genuine love.

304 notes · View notes

kyufessions · 2 years ago

Text

family picnic

synopsis: small family picnic with your husband and daughter

pairing: husband! o.de x g.n. reader

requested prompt: fluff, #26

word count: 0.6k

warnings: mention of food, o.de (seungmin) is older (27), they have a daughter

general taglist: @jwnghyuns • @eaudenana • @soobin-chois

xdh taglist: @seokka0o • @tentenharuno • @jisungie-han

the glowing sun radiated off the han river, the waves crashing against one another as you waited for seungmin to come back from the food cart with a large cup of tteokbokki. your daughter, miyeon, laid sleeping in your arms with her yellow and pink pacifier bobbing mindlessly as she slept peacefully. the checkered blue blanket beneath you was softer than you had originally thought it would be, mentally applauding your husband for finding such a comfortable one at the store earlier for your family picnic.

you heard footsteps slowly approaching you to your left, making you look up and lock eyes with an apologetic seungmin. “sorry it took me so long, i guess a lot of people wanted tteokbokki today.” the corners of his lips upturned, making your stomach do flips as if you haven’t been waking up to the same smile every day for the past six years. he plops down next to you, being careful not to drop any as he adjusts himself on the blanket.

“it’s okay,” you respond, smiling at him as he opens one of the containers and takes out a utensil from the picnic basket you both had packed the night before. “miyeon fell asleep while you were gone, though.”

he shrugs, placing a piece of rice cake on the plastic fork and smothering it in sauce. “here, have some.” you do as told, adjusting your daughter in your lap before leaning forward and taking the piece that was being fed to you. seungmin chuckles at your pleased grin, the sparkle in your eye asking for another piece. he did just that, adding two more pieces into the fork and feeding them to you carefully so as to not get any onto anything.

but you didn’t feel the sauce hit the side of your mouth at your second bite, making seungmin stare at you in awe for a few moments. tilting your head to the side in confusion, you swallow the tteokbokki as you match your husband's stare. you watch him as he grabbed a napkin and began wiping your mouth, watching the red sauce wet the napkin.

moments like this made you fall more in love with him than you already were. prior to meeting seungmin, you hadn’t felt a greater love than his. he was so caring, making sure you always felt so loved regardless of the bad nights you shared with one another. six years later and he still made you feel like you were still teenagers in love.

he noticed you staring, his toothy grin showing as his eyes scanned your features. “why is your face all blushing?” he double checked that he had gotten all the remaining sauce before tossing the napkin into the picnic basket, turning back to you and placing a small kiss to your cheek.

the heat in your cheeks rise as your eyes never leave his, moving your one hand to his and placing a chaste kiss to his lips as your thumb rubs small circles under his eye. his hand travels to your waist, gripping it gently as he sits down on his knees and moves closer to you. it isn’t until you both feel miyeon start moving in your arms that you both pull away, signaling that she’s coming out of her slumber.

your husband happily takes your daughter from your arms, bouncing her on his lap and smiling at her as she wakes up crying. you watch as he calms her down, taking occasional photos with your phone as the sun sets perfectly on them both. you loved your little family, you loved little moments like this. you couldn’t ask for anything better.

#kyufessions xdh #xdinary heroes o.de #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes #seungmin xdinary heroes #xh seungmin #xdh seungmin #xdinary heroes seungmin #ode fluff #xh fluff #xdh fluff #seungmin fluff

102 notes · View notes

ode2rin · 1 year ago

Text

new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior.

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself.

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any.

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that.

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!”

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting.

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.”

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind.

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit.

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for.

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you.

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim.

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

#☁️ my ode to you #i have more drabbles like this i am fucking insane about him #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi

6K notes · View notes

sp4ceboo · 4 months ago

Text

The Way You Were: Ken Sato x Reader

genre: the one who got away, canon universe, happens post movie, ANGST (gets resolved), fluff, romance, childhood sweethearts, healing old wounds

summary: in which you spot your long lost love from across the club, and he spots you. as he makes his way over to you, you can't help but wonder which side of him will greet you: the one you fell in love with, or the one who left scars all over your heart.

a/n: finally i get to pull this one out of the vault. it's very unlike my normal writing but i'm still very proud of it, pls give it some love :))

tw: no smut just feelings, mentions of sex tho, heavy making out and a bit of grinding, one (1) briefly mentioned hard on, mentions of breakup, crying, ridiculously angsty at the beginning, ridiculously soft, ridiculously nostalgic, lurve lurve lurveeee

wc: 3.7k

If she’s real, Fate sure has a cruel sense of humour.

There’s no other explanation to why Kenji Sato, a man so deeply intertwined into your past, a man you’d tried so many times to extract from where he was embedded into your soul, stands across the club, his back to you.

You know the smile that softens his angular features before he even turns around. You know those hand gestures, that oozing nonchalance, that false cockiness, and yet, all the same, you don’t know who this man is at all - you know the old Kenji Sato, the one who would wait awkwardly for you after class, the one who gripped your hands nervously while watching the baseball championships, the one who kissed softly you under the bleachers.

The one who got away.

Years have passed since those nostalgia sweetened memories. You have no idea how much of that old Ken is left, or if he’s transformed himself into an invincible stranger, one without those insecurities and weaknesses that made him your Ken.

It had started with wide eyed firsts at seventeen years old: kisses stolen between lessons, hands fumbling over each other’s bodies in the dark of his bedroom. By the time Ken was scouted by a baseball team, it had turned into something more solid: the two of you were star crossed lovers, and you fit together perfectly - until you didn’t any more.

You’re not exactly sure who changed. Maybe it was both of you, but you felt the absence of the awkward, lanky teenage boy more acutely than anything else, for he was not your highschool crush any more, but a man who felt the pressure of his reputation as much as the weight of the baseball bat in his hands. He became cocky to hide his fears from you, as if you could ever see him as weak.

The more the baseball critics talked, the less Ken did.

He hated it when you prodded him, when you tried to get past the walls that had been erected overnight. You loved him, even when half the time he came home drunk and damningly silent, his eyes narrowed and his knee bouncing when you could say nothing in response to the sceptics’ articles. You tried to hold on to him, but in the end it was inevitable.

The love of your life slipped from between your slack fingers like the sands of time, and all you could do was watch - all you could do was become increasingly aware of how the two of you had been acting like stupid, starry eyed kids.

When it ended, he was vicious with the same strength of an animal on the verge of death, and you took it all, bearing the pain and the hurt because maybe it was your fault that you hadn’t seen it coming sooner.

When it ended, the sorrow felt as if you had just passed off the opportunity to have your soul completed.

When it ended, it broke you.

It broke you, and he disappeared. He removed himself from your life with surgical precision, as if to prove to the spectators that he didn’t need you and the warm baths you drew when he came back from a game or the softness of your hands or your loyalty, your never wavering faith in him that no one else even tried to pretend they had.

You didn’t even realise he’d left Los Angeles behind for the greener pastures of Tokyo baseball until you recognised him on your TV screen years later.

And now, you’re in the same room as him.

Had your friends chosen a different club or had you stayed home, had you not taken that job in Tokyo almost two years ago, you might have never seen him again. Or maybe Fate would have twisted your paths together anyways, if just for a laugh; maybe he would have gone back to visit his mum and bumped into you on the street, maybe he would have reached out over text. Maybe, whatever path you took, he’d still be weaving his way towards you through the crowd like he is now.

You can see his face now. He’s taken off his reflective shades - they’re tucked into the neck of his black tee, hanging just above the simple gold necklace that sits at the dip of his collarbones. His build is as lean as it ever was, but you can tell he’s gotten stronger, his shoulders broader; his face has slimmed down, matured, lost the last of the baby fat he still had when he was twenty, yet his eyes are the same bright ones that you used to get lost in.

You wonder if he’s changed from the Ken that you couldn’t keep beside you however hard you tried. You wonder if he’s become the cocky, mean Ken who you saw the makings of, that would be walking towards you now just to get in your pants and one up you out of spite, so he could prove you mean nothing to him now (worse, you wonder if you’d let him, just to hold him one more time).

He stops in front of you, and although his expression is soft and surprisingly open, you can’t help but doubt it, can’t help but hide your heart deeper in your chest so he can’t snatch it for himself as easily as he’d done before.

Ken’s lips tilt upwards, but it’s not a smile yet. “Hey.”

You stare at him. You haven’t seen him in years, and the empty space between the last time you saw him and now is so starkly obvious. He’s gotten taller, somehow, and there’s an ease to his confidence that wasn’t there before; you can smell some sort of fancy cologne on him and although there’s bags under his eyes, of course he looks fucking divine.

Yes, Fate has a cruel sense of humour.

Very cruel, and not funny at all when you’re the butt of the joke and when the man before you makes you want to cry as much as the last time you laid your eyes on him. You’ve never sobbed, wept, the way you did when he turned his back on you as he left, cold and unreachable and never to be seen again - until now.

“Hello, Kenji,” you reply stiffly.

He winces. “Not even Ken, huh?”

Mutely, you nod, not knowing what else to say when all you can think about is whether his embrace still feels as comforting as it did all those years ago. You think it might, with those shoulders as broad as the ocean.

“Back to strangers, then?”

You swallow. “No. I’d - I’d like to think I still know who you are.”

“Me too,” he sighs.

“Not sure it’s possible, but I guess it would do us good to start over,” you admit with a dry smile.

“I don’t think so,” he says, voice soft, words slow. “It hurt - I hurt you, but I wouldn’t want to lose all the good parts.” His eyes meet yours, and there is so much in them - almost too much. “Remember that one camping trip?”

Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“And when we went ice skating?”

You can hear what he’s saying, the meaning beneath those words. He’s asking if you remember the tender nights, when you held each other, swaddled in the soft blanket of youth; he’s asking if you remember feeling that magnetic tug in your soul when you touched. He’s asking if you remember how you loved him - how he loved you.

“Never said I was going to be good at that,” you huff, cracking a smile.

“And how we used to go to the playground near your house after parties?”

This time, you chuckle. “Can you imagine? You look out the window and there are two deranged teenagers trying to squeeze down the slide at three in the morning.”

Ken throws his head back and laughs, really laughs, loud enough that you can hear it over the pumping music of the club, and the sound hurls you right back into the past. You’ve heard that sound so many times, you’ve replayed it in your head as a longing memory, and now he’s here, in the flesh, and all you can do is try to fight the tears welling in your eyes.

Turning your head, you look away, painting a smile on because you don’t want him to see you cry. Of course he notices - he always did, even though there were times where he would pretend he didn’t - but this time, he faces it head on, placing a gentle hand on your arm, light enough for you to shake off if you want to. All it does is make you want to cry harder.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter, yeah?”

With a hand at the small of your back, Ken leads you out of the club and down a few streets until he can sit you down on a park bench; he plops down beside you, not touching you but not far away, either. The night air is gelid compared to the club, nipping at your cheeks, and he waits quietly until you can meet his eyes again, his gaze steady as he searches yours.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, then swallows thickly and steels himself. “I’m sorry I treated you like shit. I never - “ He pauses when you sit up a little straighter. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m listening. I… I’d like to know how you feel.”

Slowly, Ken nods and swallows again. The streetlights cast shadows across his face, deepening his cheekbones and limning his skin, and you watch him struggle with his words for a moment. You watch as he prepares to tear down walls that are years old for you, while you wonder what has changed him that he is so willing to try to bare his soul to you in a way he never could back then, what shifted while you slowly became strangers.

Gently, you reach out to take his hand to find his already waiting. Stroking a thumb over his knuckles as he works his jaw, finding words, you wait, letting him formulate his sentences; you know it is as hard for him as it is for you to be so close, and yet something in you burns with the hope of new beginnings.

“I was so afraid that you wouldn’t want me if I showed any weakness that I locked myself away, and - and that wasn’t what you deserved,” he chokes out. “I was all wrapped up in myself and too fucking stupid and stubborn to even crawl back. I’m sorry for the things I said to you, called you that night, and I’m sorry I can’t take them back.” He takes a shaky breath. “I took you for granted and hurt you, and I should have never - ”

“No,” you cut in. “The blame isn’t just on you, Ji. I - I should have fought so much harder for us. I saw what the pressure did to you, what the sceptics said, and I did nothing. At that point I may as well have warmed my hands in the fire they used to burn you at the stake with. I fucked up. We fucked up. I’m sorry, too.”

When you look up at him, he’s smiling. A tear slips down his face, and he catches it with the back of his hand; you’re not sure how you’ve held your own back for so long, but now they fall as you fall towards each other, his arms wrapping tight around you as he envelops you. You were right - his embrace is as comforting as it was, and a lump forms in your throat because beneath his cologne you smell his familiar scent, the scent of home.

You stay tucked together, sheltering in each other’s arms for a while. Eventually, he shifts, pulling back a little as his hand brushes over your hair. His eyes are soft, bright like they always were; you think you like this Kenji Sato, who is so similar yet so different to the boy you knew from highschool in LA.

You think you’re falling in love again.

No, not quite; you never stopped loving him.

That revelation almost makes you cry again, but instead you smile at him, and when he returns your expression you feel something mending deep within your heart, knitting itself together after being rent apart for so long. The way he looks at you is tender enough, raw enough, to make old wounds heal.

“Let me help you get back home,” Ken bids you. “I can call a cab?”

“We can walk,” you offer. “It’s not too far.”

“What brought you to Tokyo?” Ken asks as the two of you enter the lift up to your apartment.

“I came here almost two years ago,” you reply. “My company had a big office here and when they gave me the choice to move here or London, I chose here. I don’t really know why, exactly. Everyone says it’s always raining in the UK, and, well, at that point I knew you were here. I didn’t think we’d ever meet but at least there wouldn’t be an ocean between us.”

“Oh, so you’ve been waiting for this to happen for two years?” He teases as you turn the key in your door.

Rolling your eyes, you herd him into your flat before becoming serious again. “No, Ji, I didn’t even understand if I wanted to see you again. You were my first love, and deep down, I, I still lo - ”

Abruptly, you cut yourself off. Ken’s eyes have widened almost comically, but you find you can’t laugh at him with the sincerity of your words still hanging in the air; the pound of your heart in your chest is too loud, like it’s trying to break free of your ribcage. Maybe, to him, you’ve changed as much as he has to you, and he hadn’t been expecting you to so freely confess that you still feel that inexplicable pull of your soul towards his.

Biting your lip, you scurry across your kitchen and open the fridge door, if only to give yourself a barrier to hide behind. Did you just ruin everything? You didn’t even ask if he wanted to come in, you just ushered him into the flat, and although he offered to walk with you and come up in the lift with you, maybe he was just being polite.

“Want anything to drink?” Your voice comes out higher than it should as you turn to glance at him over your shoulder. “O - oh.”

He’s right there. You hadn’t expected him to follow you to the fridge, although you know now that this new, mature Kenji is in tune with your emotions, could definitely sense your embarrassment, and isn’t afraid to face it, yet also that he is the same as the old Kenji - just with his sharp edges softened and a bit more wisdom under his belt.

“Sorry, I didn’t…” He trails off.

You’re staring. You can’t help it. He’s so close that your head is spinning and you haven’t fully appreciated how good his hair looks tonight, sleek and half falling into his eyes, nor the flawless way his black t-shirt fits his arms and shoulders, nor the absurdly perfect bridge of his nose and how it complements his cheekbones and -

You realise with a jolt that he’s staring too. That his eyes just darted from yours down to your lips and back up again, that he’s leaning closer and closer to you until you’re sharing air, and that you really, really, really want him to take your clothes off.

Ken Sato takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and kisses you.

His fingers slide to cup your jaw, his other hand finding your waist and pulling your body closer to his, your lips moving against his in a way that is so achingly familiar; he nips and sucks at your lower lip and you don’t think you could ever get bored of kissing him like this. Running your palms up his back, you bunch your fingers in his shirt - like hell you’re going to let him go, now that you’ve found him again, like hell you’re going to let him even think about walking out while he’s got his tongue moving against yours like this.

Gliding down your sides, his big hands settle at your hips and squeeze. You curse against his soft lips and he dips his head to mouth at your throat, right over your jugular, his nose drawing a line down your skin before he travels lower, his tongue laving along your collarbone. Fumbling to close the fridge door behind you, you steady yourself with a palm on the handle. Fuck, your knees haven’t felt this weak in a while.

You realise that all this time, all those years spent without him, this is what you were missing, searching for it even if you didn’t know it. The way he navigates your body is effortless, as if you’ve only been apart for a few days and not a few years. He knows to kiss you at the hollow of your neck, he knows to cup your waist in his hands, he knows how to drown you in him in a way that still leaves you hungry.

Sighing into his mouth, you slip your hands under the hem of his shirt, bringing them round to feel the hard planes of his chest under your palms. Unhurriedly, you drag your nails down his abs, hooking your fingers in his waistband and tugging him closer; he groans in response, biting down on your shoulder, and you feel him, hard against you as you lean into each other.

“Fuck, Ji,” you gasp as he rocks his hips into yours.

Cursing, he grits out your name, and you tug at his shirt - he pulls away, just long enough for you to wrestle it off him before he’s crowding against you again, as if he can’t bear to not touch you. A smirk tugs at your mouth as you run your hands appreciatively over his torso, over his sculpted chest and arms.

Maybe it’s the touch of your lips on his skin, right over his heart, or maybe it’s the way your hands coast over him, eager to feel all of him, that sends a jolt through him. Ken grabs your wrists, halting your progress, and you look up at him, quizzical.

“Wait,” he breathes. “We, I… we can’t do this the same way we did this last time.”

You blink, mind still foggy with wanting. “Ji?”

He cups your face. “It’s not that I don’t want you, my love, it’s the opposite. I’m not going to let myself just fuck you and go to sleep. I haven’t seen you in years. I - I need you to know I’m not here just for that. I want to take my time with you.”

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with what he said. You gaze up at him, drinking up those sparkling eyes, feeling the gentle way he positions his hands on you, one cradling your chin and the other holding your waist, and realise that you’re seeing your Ken Sato - grown, yes, but still yours, eternally yours.

What he’s saying is right. The old you would have jumped straight into his arms, and he would have let you - you would have spoken with your bodies, not your words, leaving the tears and rips in your hearts to fester and rot, never acknowledging them for long enough for them to heal.

But somehow, Fate has gifted you a second try at love, and this time, the two of you will do it the way it should be done; he’s looking at you so tenderly, so hopefully, and it makes your stomach flutter. There’s no rush. Now you’ve got him in your arms again, you won’t be letting him go.

You brush his hair out of his eyes. “Okay, then. Shall we talk instead?”

He smiles. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

The lens you see the world through after that night with Kenji makes everything brighter, more beautiful. You find new appreciation for the ads of him plastered all over the city when he tells you funny stories behind the shoots, for the way the littlest things make you think of him, for the regular date nights and the hours you spend staying up late, talking with him.

For a famous baseball player, he sure has a lot of time for you.

He hangs on to your every word, looking at you as if you hung the stars in the sky; he listens to your rants about work and your favourite show and your fucking landlord. You make sure you show up to his baseball matches, cheering whether he’s winning or losing, knowing that he’ll be in your arms the moment he’s off the pitch.

You watch him open up to you like a flower leaning towards the sun, his words muffled as he rests his head on your shoulder late at night and tells you how his mum disappeared, how he used to avoid his dad but how recently they’ve gotten closer after they found some common ground.

And when he tells you what that common ground was - a bright pink, baby kaiju - everything falls into place.

Finally, you understand what changed him on his course, what softened him after the critics forced him to build walls: a baby as cute as her size, and a secret life as Ultraman. You kissed him when he told you, melting the tension right off his wide shoulders as you whispered against his lips that you’d love him even if he confessed to eating your leftovers (he had).

It’s not perfect, because love isn’t, but on the nights when you’re tucked into each other beneath the blankets, fitting together like puzzle pieces as you kiss his scars, you know that this time round, you’re doing love right.

206 notes · View notes

plutoenjoyer · 7 months ago

Note

Hii, how do you think the members would react when they realize that a friend of their crush also has a crush on her? I hope you understood me 😣

hi anon!!! thank you so much for being my first request<3 so sorry this took so long 😭 i hope you still enjoy though its so so late !!!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

xdh — finding out about a friend's crush on you (+ confessing)

genre: fluff as always, light angst (i love to see a man in emotional turmoil)

tags: drabble, ot6, female reader, jealousy/light possessiveness?, pining, starting as friends, friends to lovers, reader is shorter than them, confessions

warnings: none

note: reader is some sort of employee or person that works in their building or around the area for added context ... they see you often even if not directly working with them basically (vaguely gestures). and the friend is kiiiind of rude anyway so he doesnt deserve your time in the first place

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

gunil — tries to be respectful, succeeds. (and then fails)

perhaps he's very comfortable in his role as "the responsible one" as the eldest of the group. he tries to embody a role-model for his bandmates when he can, there's a very caring and deeply responsible part of him that naturally comes out. he is not known for being selfish. that being said, when he finds out one of your friends has a crush on you there is a deep urge in him to find you immediately and just confess all the feelings he's kept buried in him for months. it bothers him like mad, because he knows that he shouldn't get in the way of anything or anyone you might be vying for. what if you felt the same way about that friend? what if he made it difficult for you to choose him after confessing? what if he ruined his friendship with you when you didn't feel the same way? there were just so many uncertainties and not enough safety for his comfort, so he chose to suffer in silence, as he was used to doing.

there was a familiarity in being alone with his thoughts that he wasn't sure if he could find the courage to leave behind just yet.

he sits with this feeling for days. he tries to convince himself that he's simply content to see you at all, and wants to be happy for your happiness, though it is so clear to his bandmates that he's not his usual self lately.

it's not until he sees you with said friend that he can't help himself anymore. he hated that you were laughing with him, but he hated his lack of conviction more. he makes up his mind to tell you as soon as he gets the chance because the fear of rejection meant so much less to him than watching you get taken from him right before his eyes without doing anything about it.

and you—you're none the wiser about it all until gunil confronts you that night as you're heading home. the intense look on his face is something you've never seen before, passionate and desperate underneath the warm ambient light of the dimly lit room. it illuminates his face in a way that strikes through your heart. you always found him to be attractive, but tried not to let your feelings unfurl further since you knew that there was not a chance he'd feel the same way, not with all the projects and people he manages on a day to day basis. he was just too busy for romance. but right now in this moment, the way that his eyes are narrowed with a seriousness that you haven't seen from him before sends a shiver up your spine. and not just towards anyone, towards you.

he steps closer to you. you're basically backed up against the wall, your heart beating out of your chest. he's so close you finally get a good look at how his dark eyes are trying to find something in yours—answers. you can't help yourself from putting your hands on his chest and bicep to steady yourself.

"i... i have something to tell you." he speaks so lowly and so desperately it mixes in with the sound of his sharp breaths.

you can barely hear him because all you can focus on is the gentle curvature of his beautiful lips. he notices this, because with his hand he pulls your chin up in order to angle your face to meet his eyes, forcing you to see what sort of distress you've put him through.

for the first time in a long time he's wanted something, no, someone for himself, and you're about to find out what.

jungsu — tries to be respectful, fails immediately

jungsu is the sweetest guy ever. he's always looking out for others and wants the best for him. after finding out about your friend's crush on you, though, something takes over him. you wonder why he's suddenly being so much more attentive and sweet, way more than normal. comedically and somewhat pathetically (in a sopping wet dog with glassy eyes kinda way) offering to carry your things, buying you sweets, praising you—it was even a little much at times. you were starting to get a little annoyed, not because you didn't like it but because you were wondering why the hell he started acting like this out of nowhere.

it's not until you're out shopping with him that you start to connect the dots. you run into the friend-in-question and he sparks up a conversation with you, both of you completely unaware of the growing panic and jealousy growing in jungsu's mind.

to your surprise, the usually soft-spoken and patient guy interjects whatever you two were talking about and grabs your hand, hastily pulling you away into some other random store. at first you're worried that you did something to offend him, but then you notice the embarrassed pout on his face as you two slow down near some unassuming accessory store. he's chewing the inside of his cheek, wondering what possessed him to be so rude (he knows exactly why, he just couldn't stand watching you two get along and got swept up in his emotions). the people already in the store make some shifty glances at you two, some of the aunties even shaking their heads, going 'gosh, another lovers quarrel', but it doesn't reach your ears by how hard you're trying to figure him out right now. he has no explanation for himself, simply looking aimlessly at the assortment of necklaces on the racks and refusing to meet your eye. he doesn't let go of your hand.

"i-i'm sorry, i just ..." he's struggling so hard to find the words. he really should just come out and say it but that would mean confirming his feelings for you right here and now, and there was no way you'd accept considering what reckless thing he did just now. "you ... i just didn't want ..."

a beat of silence, and then a resounding 'oh' pops into your head as you finally realize that it was actually your friend that was the problem for him. you smile at his shaking visage. how cute.

what happens next is in your hands, the same ones that are fit so perfectly in his warm, nervous palms. you're glad the group of aunties left before you could do this.

the air feels electrifying. you pull him closer and stand on your tippy toes and he's watching you do this so adorably but it doesn't compute in his head until he finally feels the plush feeling of your lips against his, and suddenly he feels right again. this is what he's been waiting for this whole time.

gaon — gets clingy

jiseok has always been physically clingy. he shows his love and affection by quite literally hanging onto you, through hugs or wrapping his arm around yours. it is very casual and very natural for him to do that with people he loves. emotionally, however, he's a bit more withdrawn than expected. he likes his alone time. he likes you more. but, he is so painfully unaware of it. so when he finds out that your friend has a crush on you, the petty side of him that simmers at the surface of his mind really comes through without him doing it intentionally. it becomes an increasingly common occurrence for you to receive a text from him that goes along the lines of "are you busy friday? :)", or "there's a new movie i wanna see, can we hang soon?" because he thinks you'll genuinely enjoy what he had planned for you, and not because of any other reason.

this, of course, is his way of getting you away from that guy who's trying to get with you. honestly, he thinks he's boring and won't treat you right. there's really no one in your circle that he deems worthy for you.

you're more than happy to spend time with him. but it starts to get to a point where you're wondering 'what are we' when he starts to get a little more clingy, more so than his usual friendly self. his hands linger a little longer on yours, his eyes seem to follow your every move and he's smiling at you in a way that holds so much adoration that your heart starts beating faster.

when you text him that you can't hang because you feel bad you keep blowing off the friend-in-question, who had asked for your time today already, he sulks like crazy. he knows he shouldn't be so childish about it but it sucks because you're his best friend and you're wasting your time on him and he's going to confess to you and then you're gonna start dating each other and then you'll get married and go away forev—oh. oh man.

he quickly grabs his jacket and runs to your place before you can even think about leaving for your outing.

you see him show up to your front door and almost collapse to his knees, leaning an arm on the frame of your front door. "what the hell— jiseok?! are you okay?" and he's heaving so hard he can barely speak, "yeahi'mfineILOVE. YOU. ohgodmyribs. DON'T. GOTOHIM. i just. foundoutiloveyou. stay. right here". you can barely believe what he's saying, not only because he's huffing and puffing, but because you really had no idea he felt the same about you. the silence worries him because he looks up to see your confusion, or worse, hesitance, and through his labored breath and takes your hand in his. on one knee as if asking for your hand in marriage, "stay with me. please," and you can't help but laugh when it finally all clicks. this is such a dramatically jiseok way to profess feelings to someone. you're definitely gonna bring this up again.

but for now, with a bright smile, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze, "come in. let's get you some water."

o.de — kicks himself into action

finding out is a wake-up call to him. he kicks himself for getting complacent. it's not that he didn't think other guys would be into you or anything, just that he didn't think it would happen so soon. he put off his feelings for you constantly because he feared ruining things between you two, but now that there was another guy in your radar it meant that he had to be on high alert. he immediately starts thinking about the best way to confess to you, and fast because who knows if this guy is going to sweep you off your feet out of nowhere.

he's trying to plan something grand and a little cheesy because he thinks, no, knows that you deserve to be appreciated. he would yell his love for you from the rooftops if he could. he's thinking about it so much that you stop hearing from him for a couple days. his absence lingers in the air around you and you start to wonder why it feels so heavy without him around, because wasn't he just a friend?

you get your hopes up when your phone pings with a text—but it's not from seungmin. there's a dull ache in your heart when you see it's from the friend-in-question. you're disappointed but don't want to take it out on him, so you say yes to dinner. you go with him, and clearly he's trying to make a move on you by spoiling you with a nice meal and compliments, but you just can't get your mind off of seungmin and what he's doing right now. you end the date, which was more just like him talking at you, by rejecting him. you're wondering if he was just friends with you to try and get a chance with you, and it hurt a little.

then, it happens. your phone buzzes as you're about to leave the restaurant. it's seungmin. as soon as you pick up he sounds out of breath and desperate. "where are you right now?!" and you answer honestly, about the date and how it ended, and how you missed talking to him. "stay right there, i'm coming."

he picks you up from the restaurant, having drove there in a hurry. there's roses and chocolate on the dashboard as if he were going on a date himself and you know immediately who it's for by the look on his face and the slight sheen of sweat like he'd been worried sick about something.

there's not even a moment that passes while in the car before you both can't help yourselves anymore, having the first real taste of what you two felt for each other, sealed with a kiss.

junhan — withdraws himself

junhan has always been quiet, but you were starting to love getting to have late night conversations with him about life itself, your place in the the universe and who's your favorite character in dungeon meshi. he seemed to open up when he was around you and you loved getting to pick apart his mind. you felt that you both were able to keep up each other's intellectual abilities, and it was refreshing.

so when he suddenly reverts back to the shy personality he had when you first met him, you know something's wrong. you're trying to figure out how to confront him about it without making him curl back into his shell even more.

in his mind, on the other hand, he's doing you a favor. after finding out that your friend has a crush on you, the one that is so much more extroverted and good at holding up conversations, he thinks its best that he takes a step back so he wouldn't be taking up space in your life that could be reserved for your friend. he throws himself into work even more so than before, using it as an excuse to avoid you so it doesn't hurt as much when you inevitably start dating that stupid guy. but that doesn't mean he stops watching and analyzing, watching to see if that guy really, truly was good enough for you.

and of course, he wasn't. call it intuition or just plain logic, junhan noticed how he very often seemed to talk over you. it bothered him to know that there's a possibility that you'd be happier with your friend, but it bothered him more to think about you unhappy with him, because at least junhan would actually notice if you were.

that wouldn't do at all. while junhan is very rational he absolutely does not mess around when it comes to you. the friend-in-question is busy chatting away while you're forced to listen to him. you think he's a nice guy, but he was the type of person who was more used to talking at someone rather than to them. you never really felt heard when speaking to him, unlike with junhan who took every word you said into account, making sure you knew your thoughts mattered to him.

junhan, with tingling fingertips and an audacity that could only be stirred up by the thought of losing you, calmly walks up to you two. you wouldn't have guessed it took all his courage to ask "can we get drinks tonight?" and you're over the moon at the mere suggestion, "is that even a question?! of course, i haven't seen you around in ages!". your eyes light up with excitement, unable to stop yourself from excitedly rambling about how you really wanted to talk about some new manga that dropped during his absence. junhan smiles at you, half because he knows this feels right, like you both were meant to be together in this moment, and half because he loves the way that guy's stupid grin drops when he sees how happy you are to see him.

"so it's a date?" junhan says with a radiant smile, almost as if the guy standing next to you didn't exist. he was enjoying taunting this guy a little too much, he thinks to himself. your jaw drops a little at this unexpected confidence, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want it to be. and so you shoot a quick, very obviously awkward glance at the so called 'friend', thinking about who you knew would treat you right, and turn back to say:

"it's a date."

jooyeon — makes it everyone's problem

when jooyeon finds out about your friend's crush on you he cannot stop from complaining about him to his bandmates. jiseok rolls his eyes hearing the groans from jooyeon, going for the millionth time this week that "he's just not right for her" and "he's not even good looking" and "she's way out of his league!" to lying in bed upside down with his head hanging off the edge groaning into his palms, "but what if she likes him though?! do you think she does?! is that why she hasn't been around lately? aghhhh, girls are so confusing. this sucks. wanna play league?" in which jiseok replies with a sigh, "dude, you could just text her and figure it out for yourself right now." and leaves before his head explodes from how much of a baby joo gets when he's frustrated about something.

when he's finally alone, jooyeon gets to sit alone with his thoughts. just pure and utter him, not the shining jooyeon on stage with his bass, and the thought of you, beautiful and kind, and how much he misses the sound of your pretty laugh. you're constantly on his mind. sometimes he finds himself idly smiling about some dumb text you sent him or the one time where you tried singing along to his strumming and it wasn't good but you gave it your all. it was just so you. you're his friend, yes, but he didn't realize how he felt something so much more for you until the idea of you not being around him anymore became a very real possibility.

the thought of you not being in his life wasn't even in the question for him. it breaks his heart to think of such a thing happening, that he wouldn't be the one making you happy but some other, boring, loser of a guy ... but he doesn't let the others know that part. deep down he's more insecure than he lets on. whatever exasperated complaining he lets out barely scratches the surface of the sort of emotional vortex swirling in him at this very moment thinking about you dating someone else.

when he sees you he makes it so unbelievably obvious, everyone around you two is betting on the moment that you finally realize. you're wrapping up your lunch together when he brings it up. "stoooop hanging out with him, he's boring and he only plays fps games, i mean come on," he's basically begging you like a kid.

you snort at him, "and you know almost every pokemon. he's not doing anything wrong, we all have things we really like." you're saying this to defend your point but in reality you also thought it was annoying that that was all he talked about with you and didn't seem to care about what you liked at all.

"yeah, well." jooyeon grumbles, pitifully tucking his head into the crook of his arm, leaning onto the table. he doesn't make eye contact with you, just pouting cutely. "heard he likes you, too... he's not special." the last part is almost unintelligible from the way he buries his head further into his arm as he says it.

that piques your interest. "oh? what was that? after the first part?" you know exactly what you heard but you just can't help yourself from teasing him.

"'ts nothing."

"joo." he refuses to meet your eyes but you see the tips of his ears reddening.

"i gotta get back to practice."

"joooooyeon. lee jooyeon. jooyeon of xdinary heroes. did i hear correctly? 'he's not special?'"

he's already walking off.

"joo, you know i'm going to the same place as you!" you shout after him. quickly, you shove your things into your bag and catch up to his rather hasty speed. you're giggling because you can read him like a book. that cute little pout on his face is all you need to see before you go to grab his hand mid step. he jolts a bit, not expecting your touch, before he eases into it and finally looks you in the eye.

"you ..."

shifting your hand so your fingers interlock, you smile at him, looking him in the eyes with earnest, "i like you, too."

in a few moments he's trying to stay cool and ends up failing miserably by how the corners of his mouth refuse to stay still. he can't help himself from breaking into a grin at those words. he would get to it later, be able to grandly profess his love to you like how he had imagined it going in his head, but for now he was content with this. simple and happy with your hand enveloped in his larger one.

it's by no means a scene out of a drama, but it was perfectly enough for the two of you.

(later that night jooyeon is so completely over the moon about being chosen. it feeds his ego BAD. you have to take him down a peg by telling him how he hasn't really properly confessed to you yet, and you are very entertained by how he stutters and struggles to say it to you directly after such a grand display of confidence. oh, joo ...)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

masterlist | request rules | inbox

thank you for reading! <3

158 notes · View notes

totallynotcoffeeturtle · 5 months ago

Text

Chromatic Act IV: Give her happiness

･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･

Genshin masterlist || Scaramouche masterlist

Tags: fluff, established relationship, Nahida and Wanderer found family, gn! reader Summary: Out of everyone else's sight, you and Wanderer prepare a smaller, but just as heartfelt gift for the little Archon.

A/N: this is just my addition to the nahida birthday event because i refuse to believe that wanderer would do so little for her on her big day !!!

･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･

Nahida smooths a hand over her heart, the smile on her lips lingering even hours after the main celebrations are done. She is still in bliss from everyone's wholehearted gifts, even more so when she sees you and Wanderer waiting for her at the gate. The small archon runs over and is almost immediately picked up by the puppet. She can hear him grumble under his breath about how she needs to take her safety more seriously even if she is one of The Seven but she knows that this is simply him being the worrywart he is. (She can ignore him talking about her lackluster height for the time being)

Nahida looks over to look at you smiling at her and your boyfriend. He was standing outside awkwardly and huffing arrogantly at anyone passing by (and had the gall to look at him questioningly) while covering the sunlight for you with his hat,... almost an hour earlier than the set time.

As you three walk, you giggle at the memory of him shuffling on the flat of his feet when the group was about to take the group picture. He was too awkward to walk over nor did he know how to make the entrance without exposing his waiting for the past hour, so instead he glared inside the Pardis Dhyai every few seconds until Nahida spotted you two. Wanderer tries to send a warning glare at you, he knows that mischievous look on you too well, but fails because Nahida is very interested in your laughter. Cold sweat drips down his back despite the rare cool temperature. The researcher is already prepared to use his vision and bolt away the moment you attempt to expose him, but he also cannot leave you behind in the middle of the way back! Everything culminates in him picking you up in his arms as well and starts the rush home.

Wanderer is NOT taking the shame today!

Like he anticipated, the speed and the cool wind is more than enough to take your mind off the matter. With the Wandy Express™, arriving back at Sumeru is speedy and incredibly fun, with the only one not enjoying his time being your method of transport. You kindly pat his back as he tries to regain his breath, the smirk of your face still present. You whisper, “You are only safe until the end of today.,” and walk back to accompany the small Archon back, leaving Wanderer behind in his terror.

Nahida smiles at your banter. It was the correct decision to have matchmade the two of you a while ago. The walk up to her residence is not too long but somehow it feels like you are trying to drag it out. She plays along with your awkward attempts, curious about what is to come. By the time you reach the door, you cough into your fist and open the door slowly and suspensefully into the dark space. You loudly announce her arrival, cueing the dramatic reveal of the small party inside. There are gifts of all sizes on a table on the sides, various foods on the center table and padisarahs flourishing everywhere in the wide space. The Archon gasps when Wanderer picks her up again and you put matching flower crowns for all of you.

She had not expected the two of you to have gone all out for another celebration as well. Her heart swells in joy and tightly hugs Wanderer while beckoning you to join in as well. Nahida is overjoyed to have her favorite people, or as the elemental beings said, her family members to celebrate her birth.

(Extra: Nahida tries out the misshapen sweets and can guess it is Wanderer’s attempt, so she drags out a questioning hum, watching your poor boyfriend sweat in anxiety at how his food is perceived from the corners of her eyes. His tense shoulder slumps in sheer relief when she says that it tastes nice. You quietly laugh from your little corner, Nahida really likes to tease Wanderer, huh?)

･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ･˚‧･

taglist: @amyminhminh @xrmywaifxx @samyayaya

#genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact #x reader #fluff #gender neutral reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer #drabble #gn!reader #nahida #nahida's birthday event #chromatic ode of candies and roses #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche

55 notes · View notes

gunilslaugh · 8 months ago

Text

Building Blocks

Oh Seungmin Summary: It seemed like your whole life you were destined to live in your older brother’s shadow. Although there are still people who have the ability to see you, one of them being Oh Seungmin, your brother’s best friend. WC:~10.1K Warning: Inaccurate information about architecture. Note: Reader is Gunil’s younger sister.

photo not mine credits to owner.

It was your first day of your second year of college tomorrow and you were just the slightest bit hopeful that people would stop comparing you to your older brother.

“Goo? Like Goo Gunil? You’re Gunil’s little sister aren’t you?” Your sprinkle of hope was quickly crushed upon those words being the first thing your professor asked you.

“Yes, Goo y/n…Gunil’s little sister” you say a bit reluctantly.

“I expect great things of you then,” your professor tells you. You nod and go take a seat.

“So you’re Gunil’s little sister?” A fellow classmate is quick to turn to you.

“My name is y/n,” you inform them.

“Right, you’re gonna have it easy,” they said.

“Huh?” you ask.

“Oh come on, your brother is Goo Gunil. He’s a legend and like the ultimate cheat sheet for you. If you ever need to help you can just go to your brother. I’d kill to be you man.”

So you’d rather be referred to as Gunil’s sister more than your own name? You want to have 95% of people who approach you talk about your brother? You’d rather be seen as an extension of your brother rather than your own person? These are all things you want to say, but instead you brush the person off, turning to face the front.

“Y/n!” your best friend Jiseok, one of the few people who sees you as your own person, excitedly greets you. He slides into the seat beside you. “I was scared they would try to separate us,” he joked.

“No way. I don’t think I would survive if we got separated. The first thing the professor asked me was if Gunil was my brother,” you state.

“Already?” Jiseok looked at you sympathetically.

“Why would my second year of college be any different than the rest of my life?” you say halfway joking.

“Don’t say that. I’ll come into class shouting your name everyday till people get it through their skull that you and Gunil are two different people.”

“Thanks” you smile at Jiseok appreciatively.

“Alright it seems like the last of you have filed in, so I’ll get on with it. Welcome to Architecture 102. For your first assignment I’d like to create your own house model. Don’t worry about it being perfect, I just want to see where you all are at. What your styles are. To get to know who you are as people through your work. Submit your sketch to me by Friday and the model will be due the week after,” your professor announces to the class.

“You gonna stick to your signature look?” Jiseok asked you.

“I think that’s the point of this assignment” you chuckle.

“Yeah, but still figured I’d ask. We’re starting out fresh. Thought maybe you’d want to try something new,” he said.

“We’ll see,” you say, pulling out your supplies. You and Jiseok get to work, working on your sketches.

Arriving home after your first day you feel exhausted. Knowing that you have another three years ahead of you fighting against what seems to be your fate of being stuck in Gunil’s shadow. It feels like the title of “Gunil’s little sister” weighs heavier on you than it used to. You really thought college would be better. Everyone was adults now, so certainly they would have more things to care about than who your older brother was, but alas it somehow seems that the comparisons of you and Gunil are about to reach an all time high.

“Hey y/n you’re back,” Seungmin smiles at you from the kitchen table. “How was your first day?” he asked.

“I think half the campus knows me as Gunil’s little sister. All the Architecture majors do at least,” you sigh. A frown tugged at Seungmin’s lips. He knew how tiring of a feat it was for you to always be casted into Gunil’s shadow.

“Should I start picking you up from campus everyday yelling your name till everyone gets the idea that you are your own person,” Seungmin suggested. You let out a chuckle.

“Jiseok said something similar,” You told Seumgmin.

“What did he say?” he questioned.

“He said that he’ll come into class shouting my name everyday till people get it through their skull that you and Gunil are two different people,” you relay Jiseok’s words. A small smile graced Seungmin’s lips. He looks at you with a sincere look.

“There are people who see you for you y/n and I-”

“Y/n when did you get back?” Gunil entered the kitchen.

“Just a bit ago. How was today's meeting?” you questioned before he could ask you about your first day.

“With the help of your planning and preparations it was smooth sailing. Wasn’t it Seungmin?” Gunil responded.

“Went off without a hitch. We’re just tying up the loose ends of it now.” He gestured towards their open laptops.

“You better hurry up and graduate quickly cause as soon as you have your degree I’m passing the business over to you. I love architecture, but being the head of dad’s company was never what I envisioned. He always talked about handing the business over to you and that was certainly for a reason.” Gunil rubs his thumbs over his temples.

“Dad would be proud of you if was still around,”You tell Gunil.

“He’d be proud of you too,” Gunil says. You and him exchange smiles of solidarity.

“Well I have a sketch to work on, so I’ll leave you guys to finish tying up your loose ends,” you say with a hint of playfulness in your tone. You walk out of the kitchen and head up the stairs.

Once you’re out of earshot Gunil says, “I wish y/n was the first born sometimes. She’s way more cut out for this than I am. A better architect too.”

“You’re doing a good job Gunil. Plus you’re not alone, you have y/n and me,” Seungmin comforts him.

“I know and I’m very grateful because I would be at such a loss right now if it was just me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your style is much different from your brother’s,” your Architecture 102 professor notes upon viewing your sketch.

“Well we are different people,” you point out.

“Right, of course you are,” he says offhandedly. “What did your brother say about your sketch?” your professor asked curiously.

“I didn’t show him,” you state.

“You didn’t show him?” he chuckles. “You don’t have to lie. Honestly it would be silly of you not to, so what did he say?” he pressed. You let out a small sigh. You really didn’t show Gunil your sketch, nor did he ever ask to see it.

“He said it reminded him of our father’s work,” you lied.

“It is very reminiscent of your father’s work. The old cabin based framework. It’s nice to see. I look forward to your model.” Your professor approves of your sketch.

“If he brings up Gunil everytime I submit something I’m not going to survive,” you tell Jiseok, slumping down in your seat and letting your head fall onto the desk. Jiseok reaches over and pats your back.

“I can ‘accidently’ whack him with my carrying tube if he keeps it up.” Jiseok’s insinuation successfully makes you laugh.

“I might like to see that even if he discovers that there is no need to continually bring up Gunil whenever he speaks to me.”

“Guess he better watch out for me then,” Jiseok said mischievously.

You and Jiseok are sitting at a table discussing working on your models together when a dirty blonde haired guy approaches the two of you.

“Hey Jiseok, can I get my notes back?” he questioned.

“Oh yeah, of course.” Jiseok begins to dig through his bag.

“Who’s this?” the guy asked Jiseok, tilting his head towards you.

“Oh right. Jungsu this is my best friend y/n. Y/n this is Jungsu he’s in my business management class,” Jisedok introduces the two of you and hands Jungsu his notes back.

“You major in architecture too?” Jungsu asked, pointing to your sketch that laid beside Jiseok’s on the table.

“Yeah,” you smile.

“Jungsu is in his last year. He’s gonna open a flower shop after he graduates,” Jiseok informs.

“Oh, that’s nice. Jiseok and I will have to stop by once you open it,” you say.

“Thanks, what are your plans after graduation? Or is it too stressful to ask sophomores that?” Jiseok laughs a little.

“It’s cool man. I’m gonna work at y/n’s company,” Jiseok states.

“Who said I’d hire you?” you joke. Jiseok gives you an offended look.

“How could you not hire your beloved best friend?” You shake your head playfully.

“I’m gonna take over my dad’s company. My brother is running it right now, but he’s more than eager to pass the position over to me,” you inform Jungsu.

“Who’s your brother?” Jungsu questioned. A shocked expression quickly covers your face.

“W-who’s my brother? It’s possible for me to be asked that.” You look at Jiseok. Jiseok chuckles at your shocked expression while Jungsu grows very confused.

“You just made her month man,” Jiseok states, making Jungsu grow even more confused.

“Sorry,” you say slowly, coming out of my state of shock. “I get compared to my brother a lot. In fact most people know me as his little sister rather than my name, so…thank you.” Seeing how shocked you are and after hearing your words, Jungsu feels a bit of a tug on his heart. He is still a bit confused though.

“You don’t need to tell me who he is then. I should get going now, but it was nice to meet you y/n.” Jungsu takes his leave.

“I seriously didn’t think that was possible,” you say, still feeling taken aback. Jiseok laughs again.

“Looks like Gunil is only a legend in the architecture world. Outside of it there are plenty of people who have no clue who he is.” What just happened gave you some hope that maybe you aren’t fated to be stuck in your older brother’s shadow forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You always look so at peace whenever you’re working on a model.” The voice breaks you out of your tranquil, yet focused state. You turn around to see Seungmin sitting on the couch behind you.

“How long have you been there?” He’s been there a good fifteen minutes. Seungmin has always liked watching you work. You always looked so calm and focused. There was this light in your eyes that showed how much you loved building models. It made Seungmin’s heart feel warm. He thinks that he could watch you work for hours.

“Not long,” he replied. He gets up from the couch to join you on the floor, taking a good look at the model you're currently working on.

“Does it get the Seungmin stamp of approval?” you jokingly question.

“Your own stamp of approval is way more valuable than mine, but yeah I’d give this my stamp of approval.” He gives you a thumbs up.

“Why are you over so late?”

“Gunil needed some help with investment paperwork.”

“He could’ve asked me. You didn’t have to come out here at night.”

“Ah yes cause the five minute drive between your house and mine is just so intolerable,” Seungmin jests, making you chuckle. “He knew you were working on your model, so he didn’t want to bother you,” Seungmin explained. “Are you nervous about having to present it?” You shake your head.

“No, I’m not nervous, but I’m not looking forward to the comments I’ll get about how I probably asked Gunil for advice or whatnot,” you voice. Seungmin places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“You and Gunil kill me sometimes,” he states.

“What?” Laughter rumbles through your chest at his unexpected comment.

“You found yourself stuck in Gunil’s shadow, always getting compared to him. Getting your own talent downgraded because ignorant people just assume you must’ve turned to Gunil for help. Meanwhile Gunil is constantly comparing himself to you. Trying to improve himself to be more like you. It’s like this weird cycle that doesn’t make any sense,” Seungmin informs.

“It’s oddly ironic in a way,” you say, a solemn feeling stirring in your chest.

“Finish up your model,” Seungmin gives you a smile, giving your shoulder another squeeze before pulling his hand away. He gets up from the floor and takes his previous spot back on the couch.

“Shouldn’t you be heading out?” you questioned.

“I like watching you work,” he said.

“O..k?” you let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh turning back to put the finishing touches on your model. You quickly fall back into your tranquil, yet focused state as does Seungmin as he watches you work with a small smile etched onto his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, now we're gonna do a fun little group project. Working with the people sitting behind you. You will work together to build a framework that can withstand an earthquake,” Your professor announces. You and Jiseok look at each other first before turning around in your seats to face the two people behind you.

“Ooh we get to work with Gunil’s little sister.” One of your project partners immediately comments upon you and Jiseok turning around.

“Her name is Y/n,” Jiseok states with a hint of annoyance in his voice. He too has grown tired of the constant use of your nickname.

“I-I know, but she is also his sister. It’s not wrong to refer to her as that,” they defend themselves. Clearly a bit taken aback by Jiseok’s tone.

“It may not be wrong, but it does get annoying when I hear that more than my own name,” you voice.

“Aye come on why are you two being so uptight? I didn’t mean any harm, I was just having fun,” they said.

“Let’s just get started on the project,” your other project partner cuts in. The four of you begin to design the framework.

Later towards the end of class the groups took turns setting their designed frameworks on an earthquake simulator to see if their created design was strong enough to withstand an earthquake. When it came time for your group's turn you placed the framework on the simulator and stood back, watching anxiously as your design shook. The shaking of the simulator came to an end and the framework you and your group created was still standing tall. You and your group exchange celebratory high fives.

“I didn’t expect anything less of the group that had Gunil’s sister, but very good job nonetheless,” your professor compliments. However, even in your own victory Gunil’s name was still being brought up. It made your victory feel less sweet. Your happy smile falters slightly and Jiseok notices it. It makes his own happy smile falter as he watches you try to brush it off. Replacing your once happy smile with a fake one. Your group heads back to your seats.

“Should we have lunch with Jungsu today?” Jiseok suggested. A genuine smile makes its way back onto your face that makes Jiseok feel at ease.

“Yeah I like eating with Jungsu and we only have five more months with him before he graduates,” you say.

“Precisely, we need to bother him while we still can. I’ll text him,” Jiseok said, pulling out his phone.

After finishing up your last class for the day you make your way off campus. You walk by a crowd of people. You’re a little curious about what they could be crowding around, but not interested enough to find out.

That was until,”Y/n!” you hear your name being called. You turn around to see Seungmin emerging from the crowd and hurrying his way over to you. The crowd of people watch and almost follow him making you realize that he was what the people were crowding around.

“Seungmin, what are you doing here?” you ask.

“I met with a client in the area. Figured I would pick you up afterwards,” he tells you.

“And create a crowd?” you poke lightheartedly.

“I didn’t think that after graduating three years ago that I would still be popular on campus. I would’ve stayed in the car if I’d known,” he chuckled.

“You and Gunil are legends. Top two of your class,” you say.

“That’s because of you.” Seungmin bumps his shoulder with yours. He escorts you over to his car and opens the passenger door for you.

“Thank you,” you say, slipping into the car. He closes the door behind you and jogs over to the driver’s side, opening the door and settling in.

“Have you thought about interning yet?” Seungmin asked.

“Seungmin I have five, well four cause you need to send in the application a month ahead of time, but still four months before needing to decide where I’ll intern for the summer,” you chuckle.

“It never hurts to be prepared. I was scrambling at the last minute to figure out where to intern.”

“I appreciate your concern. I was planning on deciding after we have the intern fair,” you tell him.

“Speaking of that, I need to prepare for it,” Seungmin notes.

“You’re having a booth?” you question.

“My father decided to let me represent the company this year, yeah,” he answers.

“Represent or draw people in with your pretty face.” You playfully reach your hand out to cup his chin.

“Behave, I am driving.” He grabs your hand with one of his, taking it away from his chin. His hand remains holding yours for a few moments longer than necessary before letting go and bringing his hand back to the wheel.

“Because holding your pretty face is so distracting,” you snicker. Not knowing how distracting it really is for Seungmin. The way he had to try and control his racing heart the moment your hand cupped his chin. How he wanted nothing more than to turn over and look at you. Too see the cheeky smile you probably had on your face. The sparkles in your eyes.

He knew that you would have pulled your hand away from his chin on your own accord. Probably only in a matter of seconds, yet he could not fight the urge of wanting to feel your hand in his.

Seungmin has actually long had feelings for you. He may be best friends with your brother, but you were actually the sibling he saw first. His father had some business with yours and just so happened to bring him along. They were walking up to your father’s office when he saw you through the window. Sitting on your dad’s lap helping him with a model. You looked so at peace and content it stirred something inside Seungmin’s little nine year old heart.

“Mr. Oh you are here, welcome,” your dad greets Seungmin’s father. Standing up from the chair and lifting you from his lap, setting you on the ground. “This is my daughter y/n and son Gunil.” Your dad placed a hand on your shoulder then with his free arm gestured over to where Gunil was sitting on the couch. It was only then that Seungmin noticed the presence of your brother.

“This is my son Seungmin,” his father introduced him.

“How about you kids go acquaint yourselves over there?” Your dad points over to the couch sitting area where Gunil sat on the couch. “I believe our sons are the same age, nine?” your father checked. Mr. Oh nodded in confirmation.

“And your little one?” Mr Oh asked, looking at you.

“Six!” you answered proudly. “Come on, let's leave our fathers to their business.” You take a few steps over to Seungmin grabbing his hand and leading him over to the sitting area. Seungmin smiled at the feeling of your little hand holding his.

“Wait ,does that mean Gunil is going to do a booth for our company too?” you questioned. Seungmin waits a moment before nodding.

“He is, but he doesn’t know if he’s going to go himself or have another company staff go,” Seungmin tells you.

“He can go,” you say. Seungmin glances at you. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to it. “It’s because of me right? I’m the reason he’s unsure about going himself.” You fiddle with your fingers.

“It’s not just that. You know he’s still not really comfortable with all the business stuff. He’s worried about not doing a good job at representing the company,” Seungmin discloses. You let out a sigh.

“Why is he such an overthinker? The intern fair isn't solely about talking business. It’s a lot about talking about the stuff he loves about architecture. Plus most students will just want to intern there because it’s his company. His name on its own will be enough to fill an intern list,” you ramble. Seungmin chuckles lightly at your rambling.

“Tell him that yourself then,” Seungmin insists.

“But do I mention that I’m ok with him doing it or do I just smack him upside the head and tell him to stop overthinking it?” Seungmin can’t help but laugh.

“Do whatever you want,” he says while giggling.

Soon enough Seungmin pulls up in front of your house.

“Are you coming in?” you asked.

“Of course I am.” Seungmin smiles at you. The two of you get out of the car and walk up to your house. You and Seungmin enter the house together and your feet stop in their tracks.

“Mom!” you called out excitedly, dropping your bag onto the floor. Your mom just as excitedly opens her arms rushing over to hug you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” you asked, whilst you two sway side to side, embraced. As far as you knew your mom was supposed to be on her business trip for a few more days.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she says, pulling away to look at you. “How’s college going? I can’t believe you’re already halfway through your sophomore year. Growing up so fast.” She rubbed your shoulders.

“If you think she’s growing up fast then what am I?” Gunil appears through the front door. Your mom immediately goes over to hug Gunil.

“Oh don’t worry you make me feel very old. Seeing you run your dad’s company,” your mom said in a playful tone.

“Does Seungmin make you feel old too?” you jest, resulting in your mom chuckling.

“Yes, of course he does. He is like a second son to me. I watched him grow up with you and Gunil.” Your mom then goes over to give Seungmin a hug too. “Thank you for keeping my house standing,” she tells Seungmin. An offended look falls over both yours and Gunil’s faces.

“Mom we’re literally architects, how can you imply that we would knock the house down? That’s one problem you shouldn't have to worry about” Gunil states.

“Ok, so maybe you two wouldn’t knock it down, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I walked into it and it was completely remodeled one day.”

“You say that like it’d be a bad thing,” you remark. A warm chuckle erupts from your mother.

“Oh, I’m sure you two would do an amazing job.” She slings one arm over either of yours and Gunil’s shoulders, pulling you each into her sides. “But I like the house how it is right now.”

After your cute little reunion you all settle in. Your mom going off to her room for a bit. You were about to go off to your room to work on whatever you needed to get done, however before you can Seungmin stops you by gently grabbing your wrist. Before you can question what he’s doing his eyes shift over to Gunil, who was sitting on the couch, typing away on his laptop. You remember the conversation you had with Seungmin in the car about the intern fair. Then you nod in understanding and make your way over to Gunil. You sit down beside him and knock him with your elbow.

“What?” He turns to look at you.

“Stop overthinking it and do the intern fair,” you tell him.

“How did-” Gunil looks at you puzzledly then looks over to where Seunmgin is sitting at the kitchen table. Seungmin shrugs in response and Gunil sighs. He knows Seungmin must have told you about his troubles concerning the intern fair.

“You showing up only would be enough to get people to sign up for an internship,” you state. Gunil sighs again.

“But that’s not what I want. I want to show that Building Blocks is a really good company. I want people to apply for internships because they want to work for the company. Not work there because it’s my company,” he explained.

“Still we spent probably more than half of our childhood inside of those walls. You know what to say to show how great of a company Building Blocks is. Stop overthinking it.” Gunil remains silent for a few moments, letting your words sink in. He knew that you were right, but his head was still filled with doubts.

“But what if it doesn’t sound professional enough?” Gunil voiced his concern.

“It’s an intern fair not a business proposal. It doesn’t have to be the most professional thing ever. You’re just talking about the company, what they would do as interns there. Just explain how you would to a friend,” you tell him.

“See, you’re so much more cut out for this than I am,” Gunil says.

“Gunil I’m honestly not. You just get too caught up in your own head.” You poke your finger into his head. “Look if you’re too stressed about it I can help you put in together ok?” you offer.

“If you’re offering help I could probably use it too,” Seungmin says in a lighthearted tone, joining you and Gunil on the couch.

“I helped y’all through college, now I’m helping you run companies.” You shake your head jokingly.

“Just think of it as practice, cause Building Blocks will be yours soon enough,” Gunil says.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re more than eager to pass it over to me, but in order to do that I need to graduate. So if you excuse me I’ll be going to work on my assignments now.” You stand up from the couch. “But seriously. Don’t. Think. About. It. So. Much.” You pat Gunil’s head a little harder than necessary in between words. Gunil smacks your hand away from his head.

“Go do your assignments,” he sends you away. You chuckle at his bossy tone as you walk away, heading to your room.

“So you can tell y/n about my problems, but you can’t confess your long time feelings for her?” Gunil turns to face Seungmin after you disappeared off to your room.

“First off, we both know you wouldn’t have been able to do the fair without her telling you too. Secondly, I can’t just confess to her. I’m pretty sure she only sees me as a brother too. She doesn’t really treat me any differently than how she treats you,” Seungmin said.

“‘Doesn’t really’ isn’t ‘the same’ now is it?” Gunil points out.

“We have an intern fair to get prepping for,” Seungmin adverts.

“Seungmin,” Gunil said sternly. “Are you just never going to tell her?”

“Shouldn’t you be going all protective big brother. ‘Stay away from my sister!’ right now?” Seungmin again tries to escape the conversation.

“Seungmin, let's be real you fell in love with her the second her little six year old hand grabbed your little nine year old one. I’m shocked she hasn’t caught on to how you really feel about her,” Gunil states.

“Fortunately she has other things preoccupying her mind,” Seungmin says. Gunil lets out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t think I can just watch you be silently in love with her for the rest of my life man,” he says.

“So what? Are you gonna rat me out?” Seungmin questions.

“Unfortunately, ratting out somebody’s feelings for someone else isn’t really cool, so no. However, I will start bothering you about confessing to her,” Gunil declares.

“Gunil please, I will tell her how I feel one day. I just don’t think now is the right time,” Seungmin states.

“No time like the present,” Gunil pokes.

“Just give me some more time,” Seungmin says.

“How much more time? Till we’re forty?” Gunil folds his arms.

“No, not till we’re forty. Just till I get it fingered out,” Seungmin defends.

“So forty,” Gunil sassed. Seungmin sighed, dropping his head.

“Not forty,” he refuted again. He doesn’t really know how to go about confessing to you though. How was he supposed to tell the girl that he had been in love with his entire life, that he had been in love with you his entire life? He wanted nothing more than to tell how he truly felt, but at the same time he had no clue how to get the words out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day of the intern fair and frankly as you stood outside of the double doors you seriously debated turning back and just ditching it. Despite the fact that you were so supportive about Gunil doing the intern fair, you were actually dreading it. Mainly because you know that once you walk in through those doors you will be no more than Gunil’s little sister. People won’t want you to intern at their company because you’re you. It will be because you’re Gunil’s little sister. With a deep breath you put on a brave face and walk in through the doors.

After entering the room your eyes scan the room, looking at all the different booths set up. Your eyes fell on where Seungmin was standing talking to a small group of students. A small smile graced your face as you watched Seungmin interacting with the students. He looked so natural as he went over the information in the pamphlet about his company.

“I’m a little shocked to see you here,” the voice of one of your classmates pulls you from your trance.

“Why?” you asked, turning to look at them.

“I just assumed you’d intern at your brother’s company. Seems like the simple thing to do,” they say.

“I’m not interning there. I don’t need people gossiping about how I was handed an internship,” you state. Your classmate nods understandingly.

“But with your last name companies will still probably be quick to offer you an internship you know?” they said. You let out a sigh.

“I know, I’m cursed into being Gunil’s little sister,” you responded. Your classmate’s lips draw into a line at your words.

“I’m sorry by the way,” they apologize.

“For what?” You gave them a slightly perplexed look.

“I just viewed you as Gunil’s little sister too, but after seeing you work in Architecture 102. I can see that you are a really good architect on your own. You don’t need your brother,” they expressed.

“Thanks, that means a lot actually. Most people don’t ever bother to try to get to know me after finding out Gunil is my brother,” you say.

“I will reluctantly say that I was one of them too, but then I overheard you explaining to your group mates during the earthquake simulator and I realized that you really did know what you were talking about,” they tell you.

“Thanks,” you say once more.

“Well, enjoy the fair,” your classmate tells you. You nod telling them a quick “you too” and part ways.

Admittedly the fair was already going better than you expected. However the real battle had not yet begun. You stand there for a few moments looking around the room, trying to decide which booth you should start with.

“If you don’t start with my booth I might be a little offended,” Seungmin spoke from over your shoulder making you jump. “Sorry,” Seungmin chuckles, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Where did you come from?” you asked, eyes darting over to where his booth was and back at him.

“I saw you and wanted to say hi,” he tells you.

“Yet you didn’t start with that,” you said jokingly, making Seungmin laugh.

“You’re right, my bad. Hi y/n,” he greeted you properly.

“Hi,” you return with a subtle chuckle. “Show me your booth,” you add. Seungmin nods and leads you over to where his booth was. Once you’re at his booth he humors you by handing you a pamphlet and going over the information with you.

“Any questions?” he asked you playfully after he finished.

“Just one I suppose.” You pause for a second before continuing. “If I intern at your company do I get to see your pretty face everyday?”

“I know you’re saying that as a joke, but you’re actually not the first person to say that today,” he informs you.

“Are you serious?” you asked in disbelief.

“I wish I was joking,” he replies in all seriousness.

“How’s Gunil doing?” you change the topic of conversation.

“You can go over there and see for yourself you know?” He gestures over to where Gunil’s booth is set up. “He’d probably appreciate you popping in over there too.”

“Yeah I should,” you state, looking over at Gunil’s booth. Watching him as he organizes the pamphlets on the table. Despite knowing that you should. You find yourself feeling nervous about going over there.

“Go on,” Seungmin says, giving you an encouraging smile. You smile back and turn to walk towards Gunil’s booth. It feels like you can hear your steps echo throughout your ears as you approach Gunil’s booth.

“For someone who was so nervous you look pretty composed right now,” you say announcing your presence. Gunil looks up at you, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I’ve been managing, but you were also right. This isn’t as serious as it seemed in my head,” he states.

“See you just need to relax,” you say.

“That’s easier said than done. Have you checked out the other booths? Any ideas where you want to intern?” he questioned you.

“Not yet, I only stopped by Seungmin’s,” you tell him.

“Now who needs to relax,” he used your own words against you.

“Very funny,” you remark sarcastically. “Plus it’s not like I’m scared about going over there and talking to the people. It’s like how you want people to intern at our company because it’s a good company. Not because it’s your company. I want companies who want me to intern there because I’m me and not because I’m your sister,” you explain. A bit of a glum look took over Gunil’s face, but he perked up pretty quickly to say.

“Seungmin’s company would gladly take you for you.” A smile tugged at your lips.

“Yeah they would, but I feel like that’s taking the easy way out,” you voice.

“You can decide that after you check out the other companies,” Gunil tells you. You nod. Your conversation with Gunil ends shortly after that and you find yourself walking to the first booth in the line of booths.

Unfortunately visiting the other booths seemed to go just as you thought that they would. Once they found out you were Goo Y/n, Gunil’s sister they became ten times more interested in you and the topic naturally shifted over to him as well. You were able to keep up a foe happy persona for the first four booths, but by the eleventh and final booth you felt completely drained.

A big sigh fell from your lips as you sat outside in an empty courtyard. You stared at the mess of pamphlets in your hand, recalling all your conversations with the representatives running the booths.

“We would love to have Gunil’s little sister interning for us.” “Even if you’re half as good as your brother. You’d still be an amazing asset to us.” “Not that we wouldn’t be more than glad to steal you away from your brother, but why aren’t you interning there?”

“Are you ok?” a voice asked. You turn your head to see Seungmin standing a couple feet away by the door. He makes his way over to you, taking a seat beside you.

“None of them cared about my preferences or skill set. Once they found out my name was Goo they instantly were ready to offer me an internship,” you vent. “I really should hurry up and graduate. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this.”

“Y/n,” Seungmin starts.

“No, I mean like I’m fine. It just feels really exhausting every now and then and I can’t even really blame Gunil, cause he hasn’t done anything. He actually is a really good brother. I guess it’s my fault, in a way, actually. I’m the one who helped him become the aritech that he is. I set the expectations upon myself really. It's just really frustrating that everyone assumes I get his help, you know? Like they’re constantly discrediting me. Is it really hard to believe that I can be a good architect on my own? Seriously, you know when I showed my Architecture 102 professor my first project he asked what Gunil thought of it? When I told him that I didn’t show him he didn’t believe me. He said that it would be silly to not show him. Others essentially have the same reaction when I say I don’t go to Gunil for help. They think I’m lying. I try my best to not let it bother me but it does,” you let out all your pent up feelings. Some tears gloss over your eyes.

“Y/n,” Seungmin says your name again.

“That too.” You take a breath. “I feel like I hardly even get called by my own name,” you say. A sniffle leaves your nose and a tear slips from your eye.

“You’ve always been y/n to me,” Seungmin tells you. He cups your face ever so gently in one. Almost as if you're made of glass. He swipes his thumb across your cheek, drying your tears. “Ever since I saw you sitting on your dad’s lap all those years ago.”

“I really miss my dad,” you smile sadly. “We were supposed to be architects together…and I was really looking forward to it.” Seungmin pulls you into a hug. He lovingly cradles the back of your head and rubs your back.

“I know,” he soothes you. “But you know he would be so proud of you. He talked about you being the future heir of Building Blocks when you were only seven. I’m sure he knows how amazing of an architect you would become.” He pulled away from the hug to look at you. “Plus you know what else?”

“What?” you ask.

“You inspired me to become an architect,” Seungmin tells you. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“I did? Weren’t you always going to become one because of your dad?” you asked.

“My dad wanted me to become one to eventually take over the company, yes, but I didn’t really want to be one until you,” he informs.

“What did I do to make you want to be one?” you question.

“You were so passionate about it and you always looked so at ease when you were drawing sketches or working on models. It made me think that maybe there were things I was missing. You made me want to fall in love with architecture.”

“And you did?” you smile.

“So hard and-” The words “and I fell even harder for you” were right on the tip of Seungmin’s tongue, yet he held them back. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to confess to you. You were already upset. A lot of your pent up emotions came spilling out of you. He didn’t really want to confess to you when you were feeling vulnerable.

“And?” you urged him to continue. Seungmin takes a breath and grabs the mess of pamphlets from your hands.

“And, I think this company would suit you best for interning.” He hands you the pamphlet for Archway Architecture.

“I was half expecting you to give me your company’s pamphlet,” you say with a slight chuckle.

“Oh if you want to come to Construct Creations I will welcome you with open arms, but this company's preferences and style are similar to yours. I think you would be a good fit there,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you sincerely thank him.

“Don’t mention it. You know I’m always looking out for you,” he reminds you.

“I do and I appreciate it. Know that I’m here for you too,” you say. Seungmin smiles.

“I know and I appreciate that too.”

“And since I look out for you. It’s probably time for you to head back to your booth and draw more students in with your pretty face,” you lighten up the mood.

“Yeah, I probably should be getting back,” Seungmin stands up. “You sure you’re alright? I can leave Hyeongjun to fend for himself. His pretty face does a good job at bringing in people too.”

“I’m ok now Seungmin.” You stand up. “Get back to work.” you playfully shove him.

“Ok, ok, I’m going.” He raised his hands in defense. “But.” He turns around to face you and places his hand on the side of your head. “Let me know whenever you’re having a hard time, ok?”

“I will.” you nod. Seungmin nods as well and removes his hand from your head. He then turns to go back inside, taking one last look at you before he disappears behind the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It's just really frustrating that everyone assumes I get his help, you know? Like they’re constantly discrediting me. Is it really hard to believe that I can be a good architect on my own? Seriously, you know when I showed my Architecture 102 professor my first project he asked what Gunil thought of it? When I told him that I didn’t show him he didn’t believe me. He said that it would be silly to not show him. Others essentially have the same reaction when I say I don’t go to Gunil for help. They think I’m lying.” Gunil overhears your words from the other side of the door. He feels a heavy weight tug on his chest. He knew that you had a hard time due to being his little sister. That you could get casted into his shadow, but he didn’t think it was this bad. Certainly people could see how great of an architect you were? If people paid any attention to you at all it would be easy to see that.

“Oh Gunil it’s you. I was hoping I would get to see you today when I heard you were coming.” The Architecture 102 professor greets Gunil.

“Yeah, long time no see,” Gunil greets back.

“So how’s it been running a company now?” the professor questioned.

“Oh I can’t wait to pass it over to y/n. The business running side of things has never really been my forte,” Gunil answers.

“Pass it over to y/n?” the professor repeats.

“Yes, she’s so much better at working the business side and she’s a better architect in general. She has been helping me since I started college. You know that first project you have us to do? Building the model.”

“Yeah it’s my mandatory first assignment, but are you telling me y/n helped you with yours?” the professor checked.

“She tried,” Gunil chuckles as he thinks back at the memory. “I showed it to her the night before and she told me that the doors didn’t match with the overall style of the house. That they looked out of place, but at that time I was in my first year of college and she was still a mere highschooler. I pulled the I’m a college student I’m sure I know better than you card. And you know what you said to me about my model?” Gunil tells the story.

“That the doors looked like they didn’t belong,” the professor finishes.

“It was quite the humbling moment. I always listened to her after that though. I had to get the y/n stamp of approval before I turned anything in.”

“And you graduated top of your class,” the professor notes.

“Owe it all to my sister,” Gunil says proudly. “I can only hope that I can be as good as her one day,” he adds. Your Architecture 101 professor feels a great amount of guilt stirring in his stomach. Here your brother was talking so highly of you, so proudly of you and all this time he was thinking that you were going to Gunil for help. It’s not like he didn’t think you were a good architect. He’s seen how you work in class, but he definitely thought that Gunil was playing a part in your skills.

“So she’s the brains behind the operation?” He asked with a bit of a self-reproached tone.

“You could definitely put it like that,” Gunil chuckles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/n can I speak to you for a moment?” your Architecture 102 professor asked you after class.

“Did he just refer to me by my name?” you look at Jiseok with a surprised and confused look.

“I think he did,” Jiseok replied with a just as confused and surprised look.

“Well, let’s catch up after,” you say.

“For sure,” Jiseok said. Jiseok makes his way out of class and you head over to your professor's desk.

“You wanted to talk to me?” you state.

“Yeah I talked to Gunil at the fair the other day,” your professor started. You nod along. “I owe you an apology,” he told you.

“For what?” you ask.

“Gunil told me that you were the one who helped him through college and that you’re still helping him now,” he discloses. “So I’m sorry for thinking that you needed your brother’s help to be as good as you are,” he apologized.

“I learned most of my skills from my father,” you state.

“That shows a lot in your work honestly. Your style actually differs a lot from your brother’s, so thinking back on it I’m not sure why I was so convinced that you were using him for help,” he says.

“Once people assume that I’m using him for help they don’t really think about it,” you said. “Once they cast me into his shadow, they don’t care about actually getting to know me,” you added.

“I’m sorry that I was one of them too. I especially feel that as a professor I should have known better,” your professor apologizes again.

“I really appreciate your apology sir,” you express.

“Gunil is really proud of you too, you know?” he checks. You let out a bit of an awkward chuckle.

“I mean surely there is some part of me that knows he is, but it is kinda awkward to have those kinds of sentimental talks with your sibling,” you say. Your professor chuckles at your words.

“Yeah I get that. Somedays I wouldn’t be caught dead telling my brother I love him,” he laughs lightly.

“Well if that’s all, I’ll get going now,” you dismiss yourself. You walk out of class feeling lighter. Like maybe you weren’t destined to spend your whole life stuck in Gunil’s shadow.

When you met up with Jiseok to tell him what just happened his eyes grew as wide as saucers, but he recovered quickly to throw a humorous comment.

“So I don’t have to accidentally whack him with my carrying tube anymore?” he played.

“I still think that that would be a funny sight, but no I suppose there is no reason for you to accidentally whack him anymore,” you reply.

“This is a good thing, but it feels really weird,” Jiseok notes.

“Oh I know,” you chuckle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My Architecture 102 professor apologized to me the other day,” you notified Gunil. The two of you were sitting at the kitchen island working on getting stuff done.

“He did?” Gunil asked. You nod.

“It was because of what you told him at the intern fair,” you say. Your statement makes Gunil think back to the internfair, but not the conversation he had with your Architecture 102 professor. The one he overheard you having with Seuingmin.

“You know I have been meaning to talk to you, but I didn’t really know how to bring it up,” he says.

“Bring what up?” you question, feeling a bit confused at his words.

“I overheard you talking with Seungmin a bit. About how people always assume that you get help from me when it comes to architecture. That it feels like they’re constantly discrediting you,” he speaks with a hesitant and careful voice.

“You heard that?” you ask, feeling a little bad. As frustrating as it was to go through it was never Gunil’s fault either.

“I never realized how hard of a time you had because of me,” he tells you with a sorrowful look in his eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault. You are a good brother,” you say.

“Then why did you never tell me?” he questioned.

“I didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already were. Plus what really was there for you to do?” you explain.

“Something, I don’t know what, but certainly I could have done something.” You could hear the upsetness in his voice.

“Gunil this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to be upset,” you tell him. Gunil takes a calming breath.

“I’m not upset…No I am, but how could I not be? You’re the best architect I know and you’re telling me that no one has been acknowledging your skills. It is upsetting,” he firmly states.

“Not no one. Jiseok has always acknowledged my skills. He became my best friend for a reason you know and obviously Seungmin treasures my skills. He’s always been there for me,” you smiled. Gunil smiles too. He’s glad that you have people around you who support you, but he still wishes that you got the recognition you deserve.

“You know sometimes I can’t help but think that if dad was still here how different things would be,” Gunil admits. The atmosphere of the room falls to a more somber mood.

“I think about that too,” you share. “My dream wasn’t just to be an architect, but to be an architect alongside him. I wanted to work with him on projects. I mean I know technically did, but like I wanted to do it when we were both professionals,” you disclose. Gunil nods.

“I know, you were practically dad’s right hand man. I kinda regret not spending more time with him,” Gunil reveals.

“Gunil you were being a regular kid, running around and playing. I was the weird one who would rather work on models than play with toys,” you laugh. Gunil can’t help but laugh as well.

“That’s true you were a weird kid,” Gunil jokes. “I still wished I spent more time with him though. Then I wouldn’t have to rely on you so much.”

“He left us suddenly, so there are lots of things we didn’t get to do,” you say in a voice filled with penitence. “But I think he would be super proud of us,” you try to bring the mood back up.

“He would be proud of you for sure, but I feel like a let down sometimes,” Gunil disclosed.

“Do not say that!” you smack him upside the head. “You are not a let down,” you tell him.

“I struggle so much with running the company though. It’s hard to not feel like a let down.” He rubs the back of his head.

“Dad never expected you to run the company. He knew you were never into that. He would be so proud that you still took the task of running Building Blocks on,” you state. “You know I’m right, so don’t even try to say otherwise,” you quickly say before he can argue with you. Gunil sighs, knowing that he is at defeat.

“This was supposed to be about me confronting you for hiding your struggles from me. How did you flip the tables on me?”

“Cause I’m ok Gunil. It does get rough from time to time and I do have my moments, but I always pull through,” you say.

“I just wish it wasn’t like that for you,” he said.

“It’s fine, Seungmin was really good at picking up when I was having a hard time. He always knows how to make me feel better too,” you told. Gunil smirks and lets out a mix of a smirk and a scoff.

“Obviously he is. Seungmin never wants to see you sad. He always wants to make you happy,” he said.

“He does,” you replied without thinking much of it.

“He’d be very pleased to hear that,” Gunil remarks with a hint of something in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Are you really that oblivious?” Gunil remarked.

“Huh? Oblivious to what?” you shrug your shoulders.

“Do you see Seungmin as another brother?” he asked. You paused for a moment to think. You didn’t really understand why Gunil was asking you this, but it did make you realize that you didn’t view Seungmin as another brother.

“No, I don’t. He’s…Seungmin” you chuckle. “Why are you asking though?”

“Cause I don’t wait till I’m forty,” Gunil answers, but it only makes you more confused.

“What?” Gunil shakes his head as he sighs.

“You should understand soon, hopefully,” he replies. You and Gunil’s focus returns to the work in front of you, but a piece of your mind is still wondering what Gunil was talking about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Congrats on finishing your second year of college,” Seungmin says, taking a seat beside you on the couch. It was nighttime and you were just basking in the feeling of not having to get any work or studying done.

“Thanks, I got two more to go though,” you say.

“You got it no problems.” Seungmin nudges you lightly.

“I wouldn’t say no problems. You know I had a few moments this year,” you chuckle. Of course Seungmin knows that. Cause it became increasingly harder for him to keep his feelings for you in each time he watched you go through a hard time.

“Yeah, but I was always there for you wasn’t I?” he reminded.

“You’re always here for me,” you nudged him back. Seungmin was quiet for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before he answered.

“Cause I care about you,” he spoke.

“I care about you too,” you return.

“No, I mean…” he trails off. He wants to tell you how he feels so bad, yet he also doesn’t know if this is the right time. Should he make it more special? He feels like telling the person that he’s loved for his love life that he loves them should be more special. However, he also kind of thinks that special enough doesn’t exist. That if he keeps holding himself back he may actually turn forty before he ever confesses to you and that would be much too late.

“You mean what?” you asked.

“Do you remember the first day that we met?” he questioned you.

“Of course it was at my dad’s office. I was sitting on my dad’s lap working on a model with him when you and your dad came in,” you recalled.

“You held my hand too.” Seungmin placed his hand over where yours rested on the couch.

“Yeah I did, so that our dads could talk,” you state.

“I barely knew your name then, yet I still didn’t want you to let go of my hand once you held it,” he tells you.

“Seriously?” you ask. Feeling very aware of his hand that was on top of yours, especially as he wrapped his fingers around your hand to hold it.

“Mhm” he hummed. “And remember how I told you that you made me want to be an architect? That you made me want to fall in love with architecture,” he checked. You nodded. “As I fell in love with architecture I also fell in love with you too. Actually I probably fell for you first,” he confessed.

“You love me?-Like love love me? Romantically?” you check with a bit of a shocked stutter. Seungmin smiles and holds your hand tighter.

“Yes, I love you romantically. Has that really not been obvious?” Suddenly you recall your conversation a couple months back.

“He’d be very pleased to hear that,” Gunil remarks with a hint of something in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Are you really that oblivious?” Gunil remarked.

Maybe you really were that oblivious. Seungmin’s care for you always did feel different from how Gunil’s felt, so that’s probably why you never viewed him as a brother, yet you never picked up on the real reasoning behind it either. Now you feel a little stupid for not realizing it.

“I really was that oblivious,” you laugh lightly.

“Yeah, you were. I don’t know if I'm grateful for it or not,” Seungmin laughed too. “Maybe I would have confessed sooner if you picked up on it,” he adds.

“I mean you did it before you hit forty,” you say jokingly.

“How did you know that?” questioned with his eyebrows raised.

“It really confused me at the time, but Gunil said something about not wanting to wait until he was forty,” you explained.

“Dude tried to out me,” Seungmin played.

“Yeah, but I was dense as a rock apparently, so it didn’t do anything,” you say. Seungmin laughs, squeezing your hand tighter and you realize that you quite like the feeling of his hand holding yours. “And even though I was as dense as a rock. You always made me happy,” you tell him.

“Then are you saying?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes.

“Maybe I obliviously fell in love with you too,” you reveal, making Seungmin’s eyes light up.

“So, I can ask you to be mine then?” he questioned. You smiled, squeezing his hand.

“Yes, I’ll be yours,” you answer.

“I’d say that I’ll be yours too, but I’ve already been yours for a long time,” he says.

“Ok, that was cheesy,” you lean away from him, but Seungmin pulls you into a hug now instead.

“Whatever, I’ve been in love with you since I was nine. Let me be a little cheesy,” he said, resting his chin over your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him too and lean your head against his.

“I guess I can let it slide considering that” you say playfully. Seungmin feels his heart fill with warmth, just as it did when he was nine years old and you grabbed his hand. Only this time it was so much better. You were his now. His to hold and love. He surely was never gonna let you go.

Gunil happens to walk down stairs seeing you and Seungmin embraced.

“If that’s not a we’re dating now hug. I’m going to be very disappointed,” he says, breaking your and Seungmin’s cute little moment. The two of you pull away from each other to look at where Gunil is standing, leaning against the chair diagonally across from the two of you on the couch.

“I told you I’d do it before we were forty,” Seungmin responded. He holds your hand in his again, lifting it up.

“I honestly doubted that, but I’m very happy to have been proven wrong,” Gunil said. He stands there for a few more moments before standing up straight. “Ok, I’ll leave you two alone now,” he excused himself.

“At least don’t have to worry about him being an overprotective ‘stay away from my little sister’ big brother,” you joke.

“Oh, I think he was ready to shove you into my arms if I didn’t confess soon,” Seungmin says. You chuckle at the mental image of Gunil doing that. You and Seungmin sink against the back of the couch, your head falling onto his shoulder.

“You know I think I feel as at ease as when I work on models when I’m with you,” you voice after several minutes of silence, just enjoying one another’s company. The warm feeling spreads even farther across Seungmin’s chest. His heart filled entirely with happiness.

“I think that’s the biggest compliment you could ever give me.” He wraps his arm around you, letting you fall into his side.

“Maybe.” You adjust your head to lay on his chest. That’s where the two of you stay for the rest of the night and if Seungmin could have his way he would have you to stay like that for the rest of your lives. He loves nothing more than having you be by his side and you could say the same.

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @ezlynkisses @chewednails @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin

comment or message me to be added!

A/N: I'm back! Did you miss me? lol I worked really hard on this fic so I hope that you guys like it. I know it's more slice of life than romantic, but I hope I added enough romance to make you all satisfied.

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh seungmin #xh o.de #xh ode #xdh seungmin #xdh o.de #xdh fluff #o.de x reader #seungmin x reader #oh seungmin x reader #oh seungmin imagine #oh seungmin #seungmin #o.de

75 notes · View notes

piillow · 5 months ago

Text

silly routine

xdiz 3rd anniversary special !! (... kinda)

(idol!jooyeon x bsf gn!reader)

wc : 1.04k | genre : crack, fluff | a/n : FINALLy doing a jooyeon fic LMAOO, also some ot6-ish action, reader also likes collecting stuff

( $ _ $ )

"y/nnie~!" jooyeon shouted into the phone. "did you buy our album yet? c'mon! pre-orders are out now! do it! do it!" he pleaded.

"ohh, they are? i'll probably get them around next week, then. i get paid on friday." you replied, checking your calendar.

"okay!! let me know when they come, we can meet up and do our usual routine at your place." he said.

shortly after your short conversation with him, you hung up the phone with a smile on your face. you always felt soft whenever jooyeon's band released a new album, and he'd tell you to buy it. at first, you started buying them for fun. but, then he decided that doing it together would be even more enjoyable. "doing it together is always more fun than doing it alone!" is what he'd always say whenever you asked why.

— — — — —

soon that friday came, and your paycheck finally came. to treat yourself, you pre-ordered two albums. one for you, one for jooyeon.

being friends with jooyeon and the band definitely had its perks. you basically had a signed album from him (or all of them) every single comeback, and lots of merch. the collector in you could not be more satisfied than it already was.

after placing in your info, and clicking the "submit order" button, you called up jooyeon.

"hey, joo. guess what?"

"chicken butt." he said.

"you-! ugh, nevermind. anyway, i finally bought them!"

"you did?! YAY!!! i can't wait to open them with you!" he screamed a bit too loudly.

jungsu groaned. "can you quiet down a little? my head hurts." who are you even on the phone with anyway?"

"oh, sorry hyung. y/n called." jooyeon replied, bowing at him to apologize.

"y/n? ohh, right, you were telling them to pre-order the album earlier this week, weren't you?" seungmin spoke up, to which jooyeon replied.

"you're going to do your little unboxing with them when they come, i assume?" gunil questioned with a hint of teasing in his voice.

junhan and gaon both stifled a laugh. "most likely," junhan said. "he does it with them all the time. i wouldn't be surprised."

jooyeon couldn't help but feel embarrassed. why was it that everything he did, he would get teased? ah.. how unfortunate.

"ugghhh... guys, just let me live. you should all know by now, i do it during the first week of promos." jooyeon complained.

"hey hey, it's okay. we know. we're just teasing you." gunil chuckled. though he wasn't one to tease his members, he always did it to him. probably because he's the maknae.

— — — — —

finally, that first week of promotions for them finally came, and next thing you know, you've got a 22-year-old banging at your door.

"y/nnnnnn... let me in...... it's cold outside!!!" he complained, hugging himself to try and stay warm.

the minute you opened the door for him, still in your pajamas, he immediately took his shoes off and ran for your couch, looking for your albums.

"you said they came in today, where are they though?" he asked, continuing to check around your apartment.

"oh, they're upstairs. and stop going through my cabinets! don't eat all my food like last time." you scolded before walking away, while you could hear a whiny voice echoing behind you.

"awww, fine..." he replied, closing the pantry he was about to pillage.

once you came back downstairs holding the package, his eyes lit up and he immediately ran over to you.

"yes! yes! yes! finally!" he excitedly squealed, helping you open the package. once the box was opened, he immediately threw the bubble wrap behind him, not caring about where it would land.

"oooh! a gaon poster! let's see if you got mine... aha!"

he triumphantly held up his poster with a smile on his face, looking like he had just won a golden ticket.

"i told you! it's definitely because i'm here. if i wasn't, you wouldn't be able to get my things, and that would be sad." jooyeon jokingly complained.

he started to take out the actual albums from the box, removing the plastic off of them with you. he was extra careful not to let the inclusions fall out, because that happened last time and ruined the surprise for both of you.

"are you ready? i'll go first." you said, taking a deep breath before opening the photobook.

you closed your eyes, and tried to feel for the pieces of paper. once you found them, you held them up to jooyeon's face.

"is it good?" you asked, keeping your eyes closed.

"oooh! very good!" he squealed.

as you opened your eyes, you saw three photocards in your hand, all different members.

"oh! nice! no dupes yet. hopefully we don't get any." you said, carefully putting them off to the side.

as you flipped through the photobook, jooyeon continued to speak. "well, if you do, there's always us you can give them to. i'll make them sign them for you!" he excitedly said.

you couldn't help but laugh a little. times like this with him made you remember how child-like he really was, but who's to complain?

as the two of you opened the rest of the albums, celebrated your pulls, and even had some snacks with tea, neither of you had realized how much time had passed. that was, until jooyeon had gotten a call.

"jooyeon-ah, where are you? you're gonna be late for practice, you don't want to pay that much won, do you?~"

"what?! i'm coming now!"

right after he hung up the phone, he quickly turned to you.

"this was really fun, y/n! i hope we can do it again! i.. really have to go. okay, bye!!"

as he ran out the door to who knows where, you just looked at the clock, and the mess that the two of you made. it was a nice few hours, though it had to be cut short. as you cleaned up, you remembered the many times you had done this before. he would rush over to your house, open albums, celebrate, listen to the songs, and then he'd be out in a flash because he'd be late for practice.

good times, eh?

happy 3rd anniversary xdinary heroes. it's been a beautiful journey since the beginning :)

38 notes · View notes

jooyeonsvape · 4 months ago

Text

face riding: ode drabble

w/c: 500

pairing: female!reader, idol!seungmin

genre: smut

summary: seungmin wants to try face riding for the first time, was it worth it?

a/n: this is for the #1 oh seungmin’s nose enthusiast 😂 @sug4r-latte

"come on baby, sit on my face." these words that left seungmins mouth had you a little nervous at first, you've never done it before. would he suffocate?

you hesitantly climb up his slim body and he tries encouraging you by giving your ass a hard slap. "you won't die right?" you ask just to make sure before you climb on his face, and seungmin lets out one of his smirking laughs. "baby, if i could potentially die, do you think i'd ask you to do this?"

he did have a point. without answering you put both legs around his face and hold yourself up, your clit hovering over his nose. he reaches up and takes both of your folds in his mouth, sucking on them with a hum.

a moan leaves your mouth as he slides his tongue at the entrance of your hole but he couldn't reach. "let me help." he mumbles, your pussy still on his mouth.

before you know it, seungmin gives your ass a hard slap again, your fingers gripping the headboard. he grabs your hips and slams them closer to his face so you were now completely sitting on him instead of hovering.

he goes back to working on your hole, teasing it with his tongue by flicking back and forth, while you moan loud and grab both of your boobs, squeezing hard.

after a few minutes of pleasure, you grind on his face, his nose rubbing against your clit as he eats your pussy inside and out. "fuck seungmin that feels amazing!" you yell out and grind faster, your breasts still tight in your hands.

your pleasure made seungmin happy, he could cum just by watching the face you make when you moan.

he continues to slap your ass until its beating and red while you grind on his nose, throwing your head back.

seungmin pulls back a little back so he could spread your folds apart, and sucking up all the wetness inside. "you're so sexy [Y/N]" he breathlessly smirks, then stuffs his face back in your pussy.

you moan loud, putting his nose to good use and bounce on his face so his tongue was fucking your hole while his nose was slapping against your clit. "im cumming baby." you yell and feel him slap your ass with every bounce, making you tighten around his tongue.

you finally let go of the knot in your stomach, cumming hard on his face and look down to see you squirting. you gasp and he took this opportunity to flip you over, shoving two fingers in you, making you squirt more. "fuck thats so sexy, you squirted on my face." he whispers in a low growl, slamming his fingers in and out until you couldn't squirt anymore.

you look at seungmins face coated in your squirt and the sheets soaked, hiding your head in his neck when he pulls his fingers out. "don't be embarrassed, now that i know you can squirt, i'm going to make you do it everyday on my face." he chuckles, sucking his fingers to taste your squirt.

58 notes · View notes

junhanndee · 2 months ago

Note

hi welcome back! i’m happy to see another xdh writer here lol. so I was wondering if you could write their reactions to their gf being on her period and having a leak on their bed or whatever, and like the gf freaks tf out. please and thank you! if you do want to write this I look forward to reading it!

of course!! thank you for the ask anon welcome to my blog!! 🥹

warnings : nothing but some sweet ol’ fluff 🥰🥰🥰

members under the cut!

gunil

after a long day of recording sessions and hearing gunil rehearse too many times, you decide to call it a day slightly early and go to his place first.

once you’ve showered and finally felt your body begin to rest you accidentally fall asleep on the bed before gunil could even get home.

“y/n?” gunil called out while closing the door and taking his shoes off

his faint calls for you wake you up from your nap as he opens his bedroom door.

“sleep well? he asks while he notices your face drop.

“uhhh…. i’m so sor- ugh” you start to say but grab your stomach in pain as the cramps have just started to settle in.

“honey? what’s wrong?” gunil asks as he watches you try to hide something on the sheets

he peeks over as you’re hunched on the side of the bed and notices a slight red dash on the sheets

a red tint threatens to appear on his cheeks as he doesn’t think much of it but feels a little embarrassed for you.

“oh honey, that’s nothing to worry about. come on let’s get you to the bathroom.” he says while grabbing your arm to pull you up off the bed

“i’m sorry, i didn’t even know it was that time already” you say holding your head down in pain

“that’s okay! we will get some new ones and maybe something sweet you’d like to snack on?” he asks while grabbing you a new pair of pants and underwear

“i would love that gunil” you say as you look at him oh-so-lovingly

needless to say i think gunil would be such a sweetheart and so gentle with you and especially on days like that. nothing to be ashamed of, just something you can’t help. :)

jungsu

it was your one month anniversary and in your mind, everything was going exactly how you wanted it to.

“uhhh, y/n?” jungsu calls for you in the department store

“yes?” you answer while turning around to see a concerned jungsu

“what? what’s wrong??” you ask walking back towards his way

he begins to take his flannel off and wrap it around your waist while gently guiding you to the front door of the store

“i didn’t want to embarrass you but i think you have got some blood on your pants baby” he says cautiously

“oh, oh my god are you serious???” you ask while freaking out

“baby it’s okay, legs walk down here and i’ll get you some new pants and some underwear okay? you’re all covered up, nobody will notice. i promise.” he says while grabbing your face for a quick kiss.

you walk down a block or two and find a clothing shop where jungsu goes in for you and comes out with something brand new.

“thank you so much, i’m so sorry and so embarrassed” you say as you mentally face palm feeling the embarrassment take over you

jungsu keeps it cool and takes you to the nearest bathroom so you can get changed

“all good?” he asks while grabbing your hand

“all good baby, thank you again” you say while looking towards him

“of course sweet girl, let’s go get something to eat yeah? i’m feeling hungry”

you both enjoy a nice dinner and he spends the nice giving you all the cuddles and all the love you need in that moment after a stressful day :)

gaon

from the “oh shit” and the red stain that has now found its place on the dorm couch, you already know what has happened.

“oh my god oh my god i’m so sorry oh my god” you say in a panic while running to the bathroom in embarrassment

a couple of knocks later and gaon finds you in the bathroom crying

“y/n? baby?? what’s wrong? it’s normal!!!” gaon says in a panic trying to get you to calm down

“i know but on the DORM couch??? im so embarrassed how am i gonna explain to the members oh my god” you say as you continue to sob

“y/n, trust me, it is okay and normal!! none of the guys are going to even find out because i’ve got it soaking in some hot water and cleaner okay?” he says in assurance that everything going to be okay

as you get up and collect yourself you find gaon cleaning the couch while you can’t help but to cry once more

“hey!! no more tears baby what did we just talk about??” he says while wiping the tears off your face and pulling you in for a hug

“i’m just embarrassed” you say followed by a sniffle

gaon rubs your back and gives you some words of encouragement all the way back to the room where he has you lay down.

once some time passed he comes back with your favorite snacks and a brand new plushie for you to hold whenever he’s busy and you miss him a little extra. :)

ode

it was often that you and seungmin found yourselves all cuddled up and in bed together mid day for a little nap or just watching a movie.

you start to get up from the bed after a slight nap and you can’t help but notice a red mark right where you were sleeping and you immediately know what it is.

seungmin is still asleep so before he begins to wake up you try to sneak off to get something to clean it off with but that doesn’t work too well when seungmin rolls right over and begins to bat his eyes open.

“hey honey, you rest well?” he asks while his eyes find you trying to open the door oh-so quietly.

in a sigh of defeat you give him a small little “i did” and you head into the hallway closet to look for some cleaner to try and get it off for now.

seungmin trails off into the kitchen and you decide to just go ahead and let him know now better than later.

“hey min, i kinda uh- well you know” you try to spit the words out in a fight with embarrassment

“oh yeah, the spot on the bed? i’ve already got the sheets up and off and i’m gonna throw them in the washer” he says oh so causally.

“oh…. thank you.. i’m so sorry” you say in defeat

he comes up to you and gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek

“y/n it’s normal, there’s nothing to worry about okay? let’s get those washed and have a lazy rest of the day.” he says while slowly wrapping his lanky arms around your body

you both head back to the bedroom and throw the sheets into the washer as seungmin starts to prepare a meal for the both of you after your nap.

you couldn’t help but notice a pair of his sweatpants, your underwear, and a pad sitting at the edge of the bathroom counter.

seungmin always had your back and always paid attention to the small little details. :)

junhan

sleeping in the studio while he practiced was something you had became found of.

a loud “fuck” from junhan decided to wake you up and you immediately felt the pain in your tummy start to explode

junhan is sitting near you trying to get a new song down but you can see the frustration on his face so you decide to go to the bathroom.

coming back you see junhan standing over the couch and then looking back at you with a slight touch of embarrassment on his face.

it’s not that he was embarrassed of what had happened, it’s just the first time this has ever happened”

“oh fuck…” you say as you look down to see a little red spot on the couch

“uhhh.. let’s just get this cleaned up yeah? you okay?” junhan asks in a fit of shyness

“i’m okay but im so sorry, i didn’t mean to bother you, im so sorry jun”

after you say that he just looks at you and shakes his head

“baby no need to worry, we can get this all cleaned up and call it a day? i can get you anything you need okay? i might need some help though” he says while slightly scratching the back of his head.

“okay…. i’m so sorry jun” you say while you leave to find something to clean up with.

walking out you wrap one of his hoodies around your waist that he had in the studio for you in case you got to cold.

coming back you find junhan all packed up and ready to go back to his place with a towel over the spot you had left.

“i already messaged our manager and let him know about it and he said it was time to get a new couch anyways, no need to worry okay?” junhan says while putting his hand on you shoulder for a bit of support while also keeping it cool.

“you’re the best jun, thank you and i guess im glad that worked out. new couch and i don’t have to clean! win win”

you grab junhans hand as you head out of the studio to go home and cuddle your worries away knowing junhan would always bee there for you in his subtle little ways.

jooyeon

nothing this day could have been more inconvenient for you.

first you drop your bag all over the floor in the studio, then you get caught in the rain on the way to jooyeons and now, this.

you stand over the red stain that has found its way onto the brand new carpet jooyeon had bought about a week ago.

jooyeon, his curious self, decides to look over before you can cover up the stain you had somehow left while playing games with him in the living room.

“that last loss really got you didn’t it?” he giggles while giving you a slight back hug

you begin to cry as you start to ramble about everything that has went wrong in the day in a fit of embarrassment and frustration.

“y/n honey, baby, love, let’s take a breath okay?” he says while subtly guiding you to the bathroom down the hall.

“joo im so sorry, today was so stressful i think it brought it on for the month and then i stain your brand new carpet…. im the worst”

jooyeon leaves you in the bathroom for a split second while he grabs some extra underwear and a pair of sweat you had left at his house and brings the back to you.

“y/n, trust me, you mean way more to me than a carpet does. that can be cleaned! things like this will happen and i don’t want you to be too embarrassed okay?” he says while handing you your things with a soft gummy smile.

the way his eyes close when he smiles so big at you reminds you that some days won’t always be the easiest, but at least you have your joo :)

a/n : i hope you enjoyed anon! i tried to do a little story for each one :)

if you liked this, please leave a note and follow my blog! don’t forget my requests are always open :)

#xdinary heroes imagine #xdh imagine #xdinary heroes imagines #xdh x reader #xdh scenarios #xdinary heroes fluff #goo gunil x reader #kim jungsu x reader #gaon x reader #ode x reader #junhan x reader #lee jooyeon x reader

27 notes · View notes

wavesmp3 · 1 year ago

Text

[csc] ode to you

inspired by 'daisy jones & the six'

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader (gn) genre: band au, strangers to lovers, angst wc: 13.7k warnings: cursing, heavy alcohol usage and often in an unhealthy way, one mention of blood (a terrible case of largely irrelevant side characters, an attempt at writing song lyrics, switching pov’s without any real indication, story existing in a vacuum of time and space loosely based off of 70s usa)

synopsis → The Numbers are a band well on their way to commercial success with Seungcheol as the dreamy front man, Soonyoung on drums, Joshua on guitar, Minghao on bass, and Junhui on keys. But all that changes the second you step into the studio to record “Begin Again” with them. The song is an instant hit, launching you from a singer-songwriter nobody to the biggest new name in music and catapulting the Numbers into a larger limelight than they’ve ever been in before. So with the entire country singing your song, the pressure is on for you and the Numbers to create an entire album that lives up to their expectations. But while pressure builds, something akin to feelings for the front man builds with it.

You go to knock again on the door, heavy footsteps and heavier breaths, but just as soon as your knuckles make contact with the heavy wood, the door swings open.

Jihoon looks disappointed. “You were going to knock again, weren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, pushing him aside and going straight for the marble bar cart you know sits in the sitting room off the formal dining area.

“You know you really have to work on your patience.” He says to you from the foyer, voice already sounding a bit far away. You always forget how big acclaimed-music-producer Woozi's house is. Although, you think, staring at the array of top shelf liquor arranged neatly on the bar cart, mansion is probably a more apt word for it.

You pour yourself a glass of whiskey.

Jihoon joins you in the room once you’ve already taken a seat in one of the brown leather arm chairs.

“How many glasses is that?”

You scoff. “I have a show at the Roxy after this.”

He hums, flicking the square paper in his hand.

You sit up slightly. “What is that?” Jihoon takes the paper over to the record player in the opposite corner of the room. He slips a clean black record out of the manilla slip and carefully places it into position. It doesn’t take long for the gentle hum of the record spinning around the platter to fill the room.

God, I love music. You think to yourself sitting back slightly in the armchair and allowing your eyes to shut.

“I want you to listen to this.” You hear Jihoon say, followed by the small pop of the decanter being opened and the quiet trickle and crack of liquor falling over ice. The sound of a bass overtakes the room. It’s somehow… gentle.

“Who’s it by?”

Jihoon doesn’t answer at first. You hear him sit down in the armchair next to yours while drums fill in the spaces of the songs and a guitar starts to hum along. And the sound that comes from the record player next–in all honesty, you don’t think Jihoon could have prepared you for. It’s a man’s voice, polished, in a way that you just know he’s been doing this for a while. His whole life maybe. There’s this rough, almost growly quality that amps the song up even more, and yet, simultaneously, his voice glides over the lyrics like honey spilling over the side of its jar. There’s so much depth in every note he hits. You don’t know if you’ve ever heard a voice–a sound–quite like this.

“Who is this?” You ask again once the first chorus comes to a close, opening your eyes and taking a proper look at Jihoon. He looks mildly amused.

“Have you heard of the Numbers?”

Seungcheol hurries into the studio from the car, guitar in one hand and lyrics in the other, fully expecting to get chewed out by his producer. “Jihoon, I’m so sorry. There was tra-”

Seungcheol stops in his tracks. The control room is empty. He steps back into the doorway and rereads the signage. He has the right room, so then… where is everybody?

“Seungcheol,” he hears a voice call for him from the recording stage. It’s Soonyoung, waving him inside and pointing at you. You smile at him, give him a nod of sorts. His eyes dart to Jihoon, giving him a look that says, who the fuck is that?

He walks into the recording booth hesitantly.

“Hey.” Jihoon says casually. “I don’t think you guys have met yet.”

You stand and approach him, sticking out your hand. Seungcheol just looks at it.

“The label thinks you guys would sound good on one track and want you to try recording ‘Begin Again’ together.”

He ignores your outstretched hand and looks straight at Jihoon. “Can we speak privately?”

—

Seungcheol had assumed he’d be the one getting chewed out in the studio today. Oh, how things have changed. He’s worked so hard on this song. More time and effort than he’s ever put in any of the band’s songs that came out before it. He can’t believe Jihoon would allow anyone else to try and taint it. “Begin Again” is his song. And he’ll be damned if he’s not the only one singing it.

Seungcheol’s ready to say all of this, but, “Before you say anything,” Jihoon doesn’t even let him speak, “I know how you feel about this. But the decision came from above me, okay. The Number’s last album didn’t do as well as the label hoped. They think another voice in the band could shake things up. And who knows, “Jihoon continues with a shrug that only makes Seungcheol fume more, “maybe this could be what you guys have been missing.”

Seungcheol cannot believe what he’s hearing. “We aren’t missing anything.”

“Don’t be dense.” Jihoon pans with a sideways stare. “I know you guys are good. I know you guys are gonna be big, but the rest of the world needs some convincing. Just try this, okay? This could be it.”

Seungcheol just shakes his head.

“I scouted them out myself. They’re a good singer and even better writer-”

“Writer?” Seungcheol nearly screams, arms flying to point at you through the control room window where the two boys are talking. “You want them to write on the song too?”

“They have a couple of…” Jihoon sighs, choosing his next word with extra precaution, “revisions.”

“Fuck that, Jihoon. I wrote a great song. It–”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You wrote a good song.” Jihoon refutes, matter-of-factly. “You wrote a good song, and they,” he points at you, “they made it a great one.”

Seungcheol is speechless.

“Here.” Jihoon pushes a piece of torn notebook paper into his hands.

If Seungcheol wasn’t so aware of the line Jihoon was drawing, he would’ve pushed harder, but at the end of the day, Jihoon is his boss and his lifeline in this business. If Jihoon says so, really says so, then there’s not much Seungcheol can do to fight it. Seungcheol is stubborn, but he’s not a fool looking to waste his own breath. He looks back into the recording stage. The band looks happy chatting to each other. And you, well, you’re staring at him.

A red light flashes on the sound board beneath him. “Talk over the changes.” Jihoon says to the band and you through the intercom. “We record in ten minutes.”

—

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say to Seungcheol sitting on the stool in front of the second mic. Seungcheol’s never even seen a studio setup with two mics before. He swallows a scoff. “Jihoon showed me the song the other day, and your voice it—“

“What does this line mean?” Seungcheol cuts in, taking his seat on the stool next to yours. “I changed my heart. I morphed my mind. You don’t have the right to tell me I didn’t try.”

Your face drops immediately. “Are you serious?”

Seungcheol raises a brow–a challenge.

You let out a breath of pure disbelief, focusing your gaze just above his head, and hands starting to make motions in the air. “It’s about changing yourself to be with someone. It’s about them never acknowledging that.”

“That’s not what this song is about.”

You give him a pointed look. “What do you think the song is about?”

It’s his turn for the disbelief. “What do I think the song I wrote is about?” You don’t falter, not even for a second. Seungcheol grasps at the words, mouth agape. “It’s about redemption.”

“That’s too easy.”

“How is that too easy?”

“Look,” you huff, mouth opening and closing like you can’t decide what it is you want to say. You end up reaching your arm out, palm open like you want a fucking hi-five or something. In the back of his mind, Seungcheol wonders if you’re still waiting for the handshake he never gave. “Give me your original lyrics.”

He does, you snatch the paper keeping your eyes on him for a second too long before finding whatever it was that you were looking for. “Right here,” you say, finger pointing at the tattered paper and eyes darting back and forth between him and his lyrics. Your face lights up. You look like you're holding back a smile. You look… excited. “Here, in the bridge you wrote: take me home, welcome me on those familiar roads, embrace me in your arms, oh please, tell me I still belong.”

“What about it?” Seungcheol asks, almost forgetting that he’s upset at Jihoon for this whole arrangement, nearly forgetting that he’s supposed to not be accepting any of your revisions because for the first time in so long, he’s able to really talk to someone about his lyrics.

You look up at him fully, and almost sadly, you say, “You really don’t get it, do you?” Seungcheol looks down at the lyrics you gave him, scanning them again. Funnily enough, that line is the only one of his you’ve kept.

“The song’s not about redemption,” you tell him. “It’s about guilt.”

—

Seungcheol, you, and the band end up recording your version of the song. It’s a good song. It’s still his melody, his hook, and his bridge, but almost none of the lyrics are his. Just like that, “Begin Again” becomes as much your song as it is his. If he wasn’t so angry at Jihoon, maybe he would’ve had the mind to notice how good you sound singing it.

Choi Seungcheol is an asshole.

That you learned in the recording studio with him and haven’t been able to get out of your head since. Unfortunately, he’s got one hell of a voice and gift for creating a good melody. And him and Jihoon together in the studio, god, they’re magic. You went out and purchased The Number’s previous record after you recorded “Begin Again”. You haven’t stopped listening to it since.

It’s one day when you’re working a shift at the diner that you start humming the song playing over the speaker while grabbing an order from the kitchen. You don’t even think twice about it. That is until you make it right in front of the table whose orders you’re holding and start to hear your own voice.

You nearly drop the four plates of burgers.

You rush over to the jukebox, not believing your ears, not believing that your voice, your words, your song is playing for the entire diner to hear.

And there, right at the bottom it reads: “Begin Again” by the Numbers ft. you

“Holy shit.”

The desert wasn’t too far from home, but it could not have been more different. There was so much nothing for as far as your eyes could see. There was dust everywhere, all over the place, sifting up through the air and in your lungs. How are you supposed to sing like this?

You hear the bands’ voices come up from behind you.

“Hey,” Seungcheol says, coming up next to you and resting an arm on the same wood railing as you. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You answer truthfully. You could barely believe it when you got the call from Jihoon saying that they wanted you to play the festival along with the Numbers. Although, considering that your song is playing on every radio station, it probably shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.

The crowd roars as the previous artist says his goodbye.

“Have you ever played for a crowd like this?”

“Nope.”

He nods slowly. “It’s a lot. The first time especially, for sure. But just go with it, and uh,” he smiles, towards the ground, “it’s a lot of fun once you get past the nerves of it all.”

You look at him, battling against the grimace forming on your face. “Is this pep talk for me or for you? Cause I’m fine.”

His smile disappears when he sees your face. You must’ve lost the battle.

He inhales sharply. “‘Begin Again’ is last. Come out after I introduce you.”

You nod, and he joins the rest of his band.

The crowd cheers when they get on stage. The first song starts with a familiar guitar riff and the pound of the drums, followed by the crowd going ballistic. You’ve been playing on stage for a while now, but only ever in small clubs with small crowds. You’ve never seen a crowd like this, and it makes you ecstatic.

You hear Seungcheol sing the final words of the song and Junhui play the final chords. And you don’t know if its the crowd or the shot of vodka you took during the bridge or the fucking look Seungcheol gives you, but something, something, makes you forget what Seungcheol said about waiting and walk right onto that stage.

Joshua and Minghao look confused. Seungcheol looks vaguely pissed. Junhui and Soonyoung barely notice. But you don’t register any of that. All you can think as you walk onto that stage, grin flashing and arms up in the air is: this crowd was fucking waiting for me.

You step up to your mic and wait until the crowd quiets down. You introduce “Begin Again” as a song you wrote. The crowd erupts. You look over at Seungcheol, smiling, no–grinning, loving how annoyed he looks. Minghao doesn’t miss a beat, starting the song immediately. Your body moves on its own, dancing to the song, belting out each note, and loving every second of it. It’s sometime during the second verse, the one Seungcheol sings alone, that you notice how entranced he is. His eyes are half closed, and his fingers fly across his guitar like he’s not even thinking about it. He smiles at the crowd. You think you hear someone faint. He looks your way then, right before the pre-chorus, smiling still as if he wasn’t just glaring at you. It hits you almost instantly: nothing else matters to him right now. He’s in it, like really in it, and the only thing he seems to care about is putting on a good show. He’s loving this as much as you are, and maybe that’s enough to prove that you and Choi Seungcheol are more alike than either of you think.

You leave your mic stand and start dancing towards him. His entire body turns towards you, waiting for you, his eyes following. You meet right in front of his mic just as the chorus begins. And you’re left with no choice but to stand next to him, singing into the same mic with your faces so close you can feel every ragged breath he takes, see the sweat rolling off his hair, and hear the blood pumping through his veins. Take me home. You both sing with your entire chest. Welcome me on those familiar roads. You see him turn his head to face you. You mirror the motion, and sing the next line looking right into his eyes. Embrace me in your arms. Have his eyes always been this big? Oh please, tell me I still belong. And of course it’s this line you’re singing to each other like this. Of course it’s the one line in the entire song that you didn’t actually write and the one line he did.

The chorus ends, and you slowly back away from his mic and move back towards yours. He rips away on his guitar, fingers still flying like it’s the easiest thing, all while never taking his eyes off you. Staring at you like he found something. Staring at you like it’s only you and him on that stage.

You don’t even remember the song ending.

Music flows through Northside Tavern. A jazz band is playing today, and the piano player keeps making eyes at you.

“I heard the show over the weekend went well.” Jihoon says into your ear. You just nod. “And that the label really liked what you did with the song.”

You laugh. “Not just the label. The whole country liked it.” You give one last look to the pianist, before turning to Jihoon fully. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I have a number one single.”

You head over to the bar and ask for an old-fashioned.

“Not just you.” Jihoon yells behind you to be heard over the cheers after the band’s last song.

You pivot. “Excuse me?”

“It wasn’t just you.” Jihoon flags down the bartender, orders a scotch, neat. “It was the Numbers too.”

The bartender slides over three drinks.

You lean in over the counter. “We only ordered two.”

Wordlessly, the bartender points to the other side of the bar. The piano player holds up their drink. Jihoon grabs his drink, and you grab the remaining two. You lift them both up towards the pianist who gives you a rather charming smile, and then take a simultaneous sip from the straws of both drinks. You taste your old-fashioned and what seems to be a margarita.

You and Jihoon make your way over to a booth.

“What I wanted to say,” Jihoon continues, “is that the label likes you with the band, and they want you to make an album with them.”

“An album?” You suck in your bottom lip, feeling a sudden rush from all the alcohol. An album is exactly what you’ve been pushing and working so damn hard for. So then why does this feel bittersweet?

“I think this is going to be a good thing.” Jihoon tells you sincerely, eyes softening. “You and Seungcheol…” he hesitates for a moment. You hate when he chooses his words like this, picking out the bad ones and testing out all the others. But perhaps you only hate it so much because you lack the ability to do it yourself. “You guys work.”

You take another long double sip of your drinks, squinting at Jihoon skeptically. “What did Seungcheol say?”

Jihoon’s mouth parts. There. There it fucking is. Running your tongue over your top set of teeth, you say, “you haven’t asked him yet, have you?”

“No, we haven’t asked him yet–”

“I can’t believe this.”

“–but the rest of the band is already on board, and we all thought it’d be smarter if you agreed before we asked him.”

You tilt your head slightly. You thought Jihoon knew you better than this. “I’m not saying anything until he does.”

“Be honest with yourself here,” Jihoon says seriously, pushing his drink to the side and leaning forward, “it’s no secret that you and Seungcheol don’t get along. And I get it; I really do. But I know you see it.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “See what?”

“Most people in this business spend their entire lives looking for what he and you found during the ‘Begin Again’ sessions and again on the stage at the festival. And most people fail. Don’t throw that away over whatever bullshit he gave you when you first met. Don’t throw away the chance you’ve been waiting for because of that. You guys belong together. Focus on that.”

You don’t say anything after Jihoon finishes his little speech. Instead you reach for your drinks and finish them both in one long, prolonged sip. You ignore his annoyed ‘tsk’.

Putting the empty glasses down and to the side, you nod up at him, pursing your lips. “Are you done?”

He takes a long, final swig of his drink. “Yes.”

“Ask Seungcheol first.” You pull out your wallet and drop a couple bills on the table. “Then, you can call me.”

Today is already off to a bad start.

Seungcheol had come into the studio ready to record and knock out at least 2 or 3 songs off the album today, but then Minghao wanted to talk about the album’s direction and Soonyoung wanted to request everyone to add as many drum parts as possible.

And it’s as he’s listening to Junhui and Soonyoung argue about the addition of piano solos, that you walk into the studio.

Jihoon welcomes you with a hug. Hansol, the sound engineer, offers to make you tea. Meanwhile, Seungcheol can’t understand why you deserve any kindness at this moment. Your session started an hour ago.

“You’re late.” Seungcheol says, bringing the rest of the band to notice your arrival.

You look at him with a smile, gesturing to the two boys who were just arguing. “Doesn’t really look like I missed anything.”

“We were talking about the album’s direction.” Minghao says from behind Seungcheol.

You nod, putting down your stuff and taking a seat. “Okay, shoot.”

Seungcheol puts his hands up. “Well since we’re talking about it. I’ve been working on a couple songs, and,” he hesitates, pulling out a couple sheets of paper that Jihoon helped him print and handing them out, “I think I might have something good that we can build the rest of the album off of.”

Everyone takes a moment to read. Seungcheol watches the room carefully. Joshua clears his throat. Junhui plays a loose note.

Your voice is the first that comes out of the silence. “Are you serious?”

He whips his head around. “What?”

“‘Will you still love me when I’m old? Will you still love me when I’m proud.’” You read aloud, before shoving the paper back towards him, that mocking smile still plastered on your face. “I’m not singing that.”

He scoffs, tongue swiping at his lips. “Why not? They’re good songs.”

You shrug. “They’re cheesy.”

“You haven't even read the whole thing.”

“I’ve read enough.”

“Are–are you… is this–I mean, like, you…” Seungcheol only knows one thing for sure right now: you might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. “Jihoon!”

“Okay, you know what,” Jihoon’s voice comes through the intercom. You both turn towards it. “How about you two go home and figure out some way to work together instead of wasting my studio time. Write one song, just one, together, and the rest of us can go from there tomorrow.”

He slips a curse between a breath.

“Okay?”

You and Seungcheol look back at each other. It’s you who speaks first this time. “That’s fine with me.”

—

It’s a nice day out today. The sun shines through big clouds. There’s a nice breeze, and the roadways are empty. You’re sitting in the passenger seat humming something he can’t hear over the wind while Seungcheol drives. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know where he’s heading, but it might be the first time he's felt some semblance of peace with you around.

The announcer on the radio station introduces the next song. Seungcheol turns it up and sings alongside Kim Mingyu’s voice. You stop humming.

“You like this song?” You ask.

He quickly glances at you. “Yeah, who doesn’t.” The song was insanely popular a year or two ago. If you didn’t like it at first, you heard it enough on the radio and in every store until you did. Although, it doesn’t actually take anyone very many listens to fall in love with it. Unfortunately, the rest of Kim Mingyu’s songs never quite lived up to this one.

“I wrote this song.” You say to him, as if it’s the most simple thing.

“Oh, really?” Seungcheol replies with a chuckle. “You worked with Kim Mingyu?”

“Well, not all of it, but the melody and most of the lyrics, yes.” You tell him seriously, like you haven’t even registered that he thought you were joking. “I mean, worked is a strong word, but we did date for a bit.”

Seungcheol stops at a red light and spends it staring you in disbelief.

“Come on,” you say after a moment, “you really think Kim Mingyu wrote this song?”

Seungcheol listens to it again: They could never get it out of their heads. Like a scene on repeat. Like a mountain falling. Something unforgettable, but forgotten still. Something like you. Someone like me.

And instantly, it clicks–of course you wrote this song. Of course it’s the case that Kim Mingyu’s best song and one of Seungcheol’s favorites was written by none other than you.

He looks over at you while at another light. Your head leans back against the car seat, and your arm hangs over the edge of the open window. You don’t look like you’re enjoying listening to the song even if you are the one that wrote it. In fact, you look mildly annoyed, nose scrunched while inspecting your nail beds, teeth grinding.

Seungcheol changes the station thinking: why’d you let him take it?

Before he can really think about it any further, you sit up in your seat and point at the next light.

“Turn right up there. I know a place.”

—

When you had said that you knew a place, Seungcheol imagined that it’d be a coffee shop or an empty bar or anything other than the middle of the woods sitting on the rocks along a stream.

Although, he must give you credit: the setting you’ve taken him to is beautiful. There are birds humming and life strumming all around you. The water is a blistering blue that glistens and shines in the sunlight streaming through the trees like a million coins falling from the sky. The water has a small current running through it, and it beats against the rocks lightly, like the lightest, most gentle drum beat. The breeze is nice and cool on Seungcheol’s skin, sifting through his hair and past his limbs. And maybe the best part is how all around him, on every single side, he’s surrounded by green.

It would have been perfect, if not for the fact that you and him have been here for two hours and still have absolutely nothing.

“Okay,” you relent, after he turns down another one of your ideas for a song, “how about this melody?”

You start humming one of the worst melodies Seungcheol’s ever heard in his life.

“Absolutely not.”

You grunt frustrated, arms falling through the air. Your head follows suit, settling in your hands, face buried from his view.

“Why’d you even say yes to this?” You snap, looking up at him after a moment, brows furrowed and hands gesturing vaguely in the air. “If you have no intention of taking any idea I give you seriously, why did you say yes to this?”

“I didn’t.” Seungcheol reminds you. “Neither of us did. Jihoon kicked us out of the studio.”

“I don’t mean that.” You flare. “I mean letting me in to do this album with the Numbers. Why’d you agree to it?”

There’s a change in the wind. A sudden quietness that must be attributed to some insect dying. Seungcheol hadn’t expected you to ask this. He hadn’t even expected you to think it.

“It wasn’t…” he starts, looking for the words in the space between you and him. He looks up at you, hoping to find them there. Instead he finds hope in them.

Seungcheol has been in this exact spot before–sitting in front of someone that wants to believe in him and is asking him to give them a reason. He’s seen this before, and he has no interest in repeating his past mistakes. He sees no need to add you to the list of people he’s disappointed. With a short laugh, he says, “You know what, let’s just get back to writing.”

“Fuck that.” You respond immediately, grabbing at his guitar.

“What are you–”

“No. Fuck that.” You repeat, successfully pushing his guitar off his lap. “If this is going to work, you have to at least pretend like you trust me. Song writing isn’t just strumming on your guitar all day and hoping for the best. It’s vulnerability, and it’s pouring your heart and soul and life into something and praying that someone out there feels the same way. That’s what ‘Begin Again’ was. And every single person who listened and liked that song and every single person who sang with us at the festival is saying that they feel the same way. So, what are you so afraid of? Why do you feel like you can’t trust me?”

Seungcheol gulps. “Which question should I answer first?”

You inhale slowly. “The latter.”

Seungcheol just shakes his head. “I don’t know you.”

“Ask me then.” You say desperately, like it should have been obvious to him, “whatever it is that you want to know just ask it.”

Seungcheol nods. In truth, there’s a million questions he wants to ask you about everything, but at this moment, all those questions sink to the bottom of his mind and only one rises to the top and travels to the tip of his tongue. “Why’d you let Kim Mingyu take credit for that song?”

You lean back slightly at his questions. Looking away from him and towards the murky waters before answering. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always like this.” You tell him, laughing lightly. “I used to let guys like you walk all over me.”

His heart jumps into his throat. He’s barely able to choke out a, “guys like me?”

You nod, still refusing to meet his eyes. “Guys who don’t believe that I have what it takes.”

“I never said that.”

“But you showed me.”

“When?”

You look at him then, squinting. He hopes what you see is genuineness. He asked the question sincerely. “When you were so quick and ready to dismiss my changes to the lyrics during the ‘Begin Again’ takes. When you let me join your band on this album, and then expected me to sing an entire record full of songs that mean nothing to me. I’m a songwriter, Seungcheol. It’s the one thing about me that no one can take.”

Something between intrigue and malice slips in behind his tongue. “So what can people take?”

You shake your head, smiling ever so slightly. “My turn. What are you so afraid of?”

Seungcheol inhales sharply. “Well, I’m afraid of dying and of heights and–”

“Stop that.” You cut in, like you really mean it. “Why are you so afraid to say what you really think?”

He sucks in his bottom lip, shrugging. “‘Begin Again’ was your song more than it was mine. What if people don’t like what I have to say? What if they can’t relate and just think I’m fucked up and crazy?”

Your eyes soften, and your smile lines deepen. It takes a moment for him to register that you're smiling, really smiling, at him. He’s never known a smile could feel so inviting.

“But what if they do?”

Seungcheol takes a moment to think about what you’ve said. And in that moment, whatever insect had died gets resurrected, returning to nature’s hum, filling his ears. Seungcheol looks all around him. The hum of life, the beat of water, the tune of leaves falling. He’s surrounded not just by nature and greenery, but also by music. And it’s erupting from every corner of these woods.

His eyes finally land on you.

“I think I found our melody.”

When you come into the studio the next day, the song is done. You went to sleep humming it still and running through the lyrics over and over again in your head.

“Let us sing it for you first,” Seungcheol suggests to the rest of the band with Jihoon listening in from the control room. “And whenever you feel like you got it, just hop in with what you think works, and we can refine and shape it from there.”

You watch the rest of the band as Seungcheol explains it. Minghao looks shocked, but excited. Soonyoung looks proud. And you can’t really read what the other two are thinking.

“Jihoon, are we good?” Seungcheol asks, turning around to the window into the control room.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Jihoon replies, voice filtering in through the intercom. You nod. Seungcheol nods. The rest of the band nods. Jihoon presses a couple buttons and says, “This is ‘Can You See Me’.”

Seungcheol starts playing the chords he found yesterday. You’re not sure why or how but it reminds you of those woods. His voice starts singing the first line of the song. You close your eyes and take it in. You join him for the chorus, singing alongside his voice feeling the words flow. It’s Junhui that joins you two first, playing a couple loose notes, testing things out. By the end of the chorus, he’s found it, playing a little more confidently and adding a whole new level of depth to the song. A depth that makes you feel like you’ve only ever known two colors your whole life and in a matter of seconds Junhui added in a third. Joshua joins in next, as your voice takes over for the second verse, playing off what Seungcheol was playing but making it his own. Seungcheol goes over to where Soonyoung’s sitting and says something to him in his ear. Soonyoung nods. Seungcheol goes over to Minghao, but Minghao shakes his head, already starting to play something. Seungcheol heads back to his mic right before the second chorus starts. You turn and sing the last line of the pre-chorus to him

And I know that you never trusted me.

He joins you for the chorus, singing back.

Can you see me standing from there? And can you see the blood on my hands? If I give you all of the parts to my heart, Will you care that I’ve been scarred and stitched up?

Soonyoung starts playing then, the drums filling in the last thing the song needed. You listen to the rest of the band play and marvel at how insanely talented they all are to pick up and play something that actually works after only a minute of hearing it. The song needs polishing, yes, but it’s got a good sound and it’s heading in the right direction.

You don’t take your eyes off Seungcheol, and he doesn’t take his eyes off you. And for the remainder of the song, you sing to each other.

The song ends. The last one playing is Junhui. And for a couple seconds, no one says anything.

It’s Jihoon’s voice that comes out of the silence first. “I’m a fucking genius.”

You smile at Seungcheol. He smiles back.

After recording and polishing ‘Can You See Me’, you and Seungcheol fall into a song-making rhythm of sorts.

(We don’t always have it perfect.)

“I feel like this lyric in ‘Puzzle Pieces’ doesn’t fit.” You say to Seungcheol, before muttering the lyric outloud. “It’s too shy. I don’t know. I just think it’s missing the mark a little bit, don’t you think?”

Seungcheol groans tiredly. “God, I can’t think about this anymore. Can we take a break? Go get some food or something?”

“Yes, but before we do, do you think ‘I see us standing in the distance’ or ‘I see you standing in the distance’ works better here?”

Seungcheol just stands ignoring your question and muttering ‘no’ repeatedly.

You follow, running after him and begging him to listen.

(Boy, do we fight.)

“I think there should be more drums in the hook.” Seungcheol announces after the third run through.

“Why?”

His eyes widen, sarcastically. “Because there should be.”

“Don’t do that.” You scoff, used to his antics. “Answer the question: why?”

He sighs, resting his hands on his hips. “It’s missing something. The song still feels empty. I mean, the lyrics allude to a love that’s blooming and growing between two individuals, but nothing behind the lyrics build up with it. There’s almost a disconnect between the words and the music.”

“I disagree.”

He scoffs. “All that for–”

“I think it works just fine without the drums, and if you add the drums it’ll become more suspenseful. The song is supposed to feel like falling.”

He shakes his head. “It’s supposed to feel like butterflies.”

“It’s supposed to feel like peace.”

(Sometimes you win.)

“Let’s vote.” Seungcheol suggests. “If you’re for the drums, raise your hand.”

Only Soonyoung (the drummer), does.

(Sometimes you lose.)

Jihoon presses the red button on the sound board, announcing to the recording stage, “Take 3 of Aurora. Seungcheol, try softening your voice a little for this one.”

“Jihoon, can we just try one take with me in it?” You ask him. “I think even if I were just singing a harmony or in the background of the bridge, it would add so much.”

“No.” Jihoon says, scribbling something down in his notebook. “I’m with Seungcheol on this one.”

“Jihoon, you haven’t even heard my–”

“This song doesn’t need your voice.”

(But sometimes, we get it just right and fit like the last two puzzle pieces.)

“No,” you say, shaking your head as Joshua and Minghao finish off the last chords of the song, “It needs to sound murkier.”

Joshua, Junhui, Soonyoung, and Minghao just stare at you blankly.

“Less cymbals, Soonyoung.” Seungcheol says over the speaker from the control room. “And Minghao, ride out the low tones more.”

You turn and see him. He catches your eyes, smiling slightly, reassuring you. Like he gets you.

From behind you, you hear Junhui lightheartedly mutter, “since when do they have their own language?”

Joshua and Soonyoung laugh, but you barely notice because you see him. You see the way his brows furrow when he’s thinking. You see the way he sticks out his tongue when he’s focused. You see all of it.

And for a moment, he sees you. All of you. And he doesn’t turn away from it.

Today’s songwriting session quickly turned into a field trip from the studio to grab food which then turned into you leading Seungcheol’s car to the beach. You and Seungcheol sit on a stone ledge, right where the sand begins, 20 paces away from the ocean. Between you sits leftover fries and your untouched song notebook. You watch the sun dip into the sea and listen to the waves crash over and over again. The wind pushes furiously, tossing his hair to the side and pushes his head away from it. It just so happens that away from the wind means towards you.

“So,” you begin, popping a fry in your mouth and dusting the salt off your hands, “when are you going to answer my question of why you let me in the band?”

Seungcheol figured this question was coming. He’s been avoiding answering it. “You really want to know?”

You look at him sincerely. “Yes.”

Seungcheol looks out to the water. “After our first album, Jihoon prepared a tour for us. It was this tiny tour, not even big enough for a tour manager. We played in the smallest venues with okay-sized crowds. I mean, it was barely a tour, really more of a way to get our name out there. And after the northern leg of it, I…” Seungcheol closes his eyes and sees moments from that tour flash behind his lids: strobe lights, bodies in bed, empty glasses, and negative pockets. Sometimes memories can feel like nightmares. “I was just in a really, really, bad place. By the time we were halfway down the east coast, I was barely even able to play. Jihoon saved me then. He saved my fucking life. But he had to cancel the rest of the tour in that process. The rest of the band, man, they couldn’t even stand the sight of my face. Minghao especially. It was Jihoon who ended up being the one to convince them to let me back in. I owe Jihoon my entire livelihood and my life. So when he asked what I thought about you joining the band for this album and when I saw how badly he wanted it to happen, I owed it to him to say yes.”

It’s been so long since he’s recounted that story, even to himself. It doesn’t hurt as much as it once did. That knowledge surprises him.

“Where are you now?” You ask suddenly, pulling him out of his head.

He turns to you. “What?”

“If you were in a bad place then, where are you now?”

The wind quiets for a moment; he feels a warmth overtake him in its absence. “Someplace better.”

He looks down, not even noticing the smile growing on his face, and catches sight of your notebook. He points at it, asking, “may I?”

You look down at it as well, grabbing another fry. “Sure.”

He flips through the pages of your notebook. The first half isn’t even songs. It’s snippets, words, singular sentences taking up an entire page. It’s only halfway through the book that it actually turns into something that could be called songwriting. He asks you about it.

“Ah, that’s when I met Jihoon.” You tell him, smiling fondly. Seungcheol puts the notebook down and waits for you to explain. “Before him, I had songs, but they weren’t real songs, you know? They were just some combination of all the snippets and sentences I had written down. But then Jihoon heard me play at the Eastern, and said that I had a good voice. He asked if he could give me his card so that we could talk more, and I said that I wasn’t interested in people who only saw me for my voice and walked away.”

“You’re insane.” Seungcheol mutters, baffled. He remembers the chance encounter he had with Jihoon right after he and the band moved down here to make a name for themselves. He remembers how hard he begged for the same chance Jihoon offered to you so simply. “So, how’d you end up working with him then?”

“He found me again at the diner I used to work at after that. I told him I still wasn’t interested, and he asked if I had written the song I played that night at the Eastern. I said yes, and he said that he was only interested in my voice because my songs weren’t there yet.”

Seungcheol chuckles. “So he’s always been an asshole then?”

“Oh yeah.” You nod, mirroring the sound. “He was an asshole about it, but he was right. And it was the first time that someone believed in me enough to think that I could be better. That is what made me want to try and write a song that would make him see that I’m as good of a songwriter as I am a singer. I spent a lot of time working and got out one good song. I sang it all across the strip. He finally saw me play again at Ben’s Garage. I let him sign me after that.”

“What was that song about?”

Your lips do this half frown thing that makes Seungcheol want to peer inside your brain and figure out exactly where it came from. “It was about what all songs are about.”

“Which is?”

You look at him like it’s obvious. “Love.”

It feels like a shot of sunlight through his veins.

Seungcheol drives you back home after the beach. You had gotten nothing done in terms of the album, but you felt happy, and you felt free. You watch him from the corner of your eye. You’ve only known each other for some months now, but it feels like so much longer. You’ve told him more about yourself and your past than anyone else you’ve met in your adult life. You’ve told him your deepest worries and darkest secrets, and he never turned away from you, not once. Instead he took your insecurities and turned them into beautiful melodies. He turned all your doubts into celebrations of hope. And he did it for you.

Suddenly, it no longer feels like you only met him when you recorded ‘Begin Again’ together. Suddenly, it feels like you’ve known him since you were a teenager and like you’ve been in love with him ever since. Your palms start to sweat. Your heart sinks past your lungs. Is it all those goddamn fries or him that’s making your stomach turn?

He turns onto your street. This is it, you think to yourself. This is everything I’ve been waiting for.

He walks you to your door, and you stand facing each other on your porch.

“This was nice.” You tell him, taking another step towards him.

“It was.” He mumbles, a lazy smile on his face.

You take another step towards him. He doesn’t move back. His mouth parts. You watch his lips, trace them with your gaze. You think about what it would feel like to kiss them.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” The words come flying out of your mouth involuntarily. You barely register that you’ve said them. They didn’t come from your mind but from a tiny spot deep in your gut where the urge to take another step towards him lies. You give into that urge without thinking twice about it. You’re closer to him than you’ve been in months. The last time you were this close being that moment on stage during the ‘Begin Again’ performance. You’re surprised you remember that. His breaths then were ragged, uneven. His breaths now are barely there, like he isn’t even breathing. You can smell the mint he popped in his mouth when you left from the beach. You can smell whatever perfume he must’ve sprayed on his neck this morning.

And you’re so wholly aware of the fact that his eyes are looking at your lips.

He turns away from you and glances at your door, saying, “I should go.”

You feel something in your chest sink and sink and sink.

“I’ll see you in the studio tomorrow.” He continues. “We still gotta help Junhui figure out his part for ‘Puzzle Pieces’.”

And with that he’s off, and you’re left standing on the porch alone wondering how someone can look at you like that and then just leave. You look down by your feet and see your heart sitting there, next to your shoes. You leave it there and head it inside.

The next day, Jihoon cancels your studio time without explanation and reschedules you and the band for the following day.

When that day finally does come, Seungcheol doesn’t show up on time to help you and Junhui figure out the right notes to play for the song you wrote together like he said. Instead, he stumbles into the studio late with a song in his hand wearing the same clothes he wore with you at the beach. And that alone, feels like a betrayal of some sort.

“What’s it about?” Joshua asks.

He looks around the room, excited. “It’s about my new partner.”

You feel the urge to vomit all over the recording stage.

—

Jeonghan, it turns out, is Seungcheol’s partner’s name. Seungcheol had brought him into the studio a week after they started dating, and he’s been coming routinely ever since. As much as you hate it and as much as it makes your heart bend and break, Seungcheol looks really, genuinely happy with him. You wonder if he ever looked like that with you.

You really wish you hated Jeonghan, but you don’t. He’s actually quite nice and gets along with the whole band so easily. He even makes friends with Jihoon. You thought he might be a distraction to Seungcheol while writing and recording, but Seungcheol is more focused and productive and creative than ever. The song he wrote right after meeting him is good, like stupidly good. There isn’t a single word in it that needs changing.

With your help, Seungcheol writes another song about him, called ‘Light of My Life.’ It’s while writing that song that you find out that Jeonghan was never a stranger, and that day after the beach was not their first meeting. It’s Soonyoung who tells you how Jeonghan is from their hometown and how Seungcheol and Jeonghan used to date.

The day that you record ‘Light of My Life’ Jeonghan is also in the studio, sitting in the control room and laughing at something with Hansol.

You light up my life even when it’s dark. You both sing together. It’s an acoustic song; only Joshua stands behind you guys strumming the chords on his guitar. The rest of the band didn’t even come in today. You color my world even when I’m feeling blue. You glance over at Seungcheol. He isn’t looking your way. He’s looking at Jeonghan through the control room window. When I’m with you, I never feel alone. You think about the times when he used to look at you while recording. When you hold me, baby, I feel at home. Jeonghan looks back at Seungcheol. It hits you how beautiful he is, with his dyed silver hair and slender face. You don’t blame Seungcheol for writing such a beautiful song about him. You don’t blame yourself for helping him. I can’t believe this has happened to me. Seungcheol wrote this song for Jeonghan, but he wasn’t the only writer on this song. Right before the next line, Seungcheol finally finally turns and looks at you. I feel alive because of you.

Seungcheol turns back to the control room, and for the rest of the song, you wonder that if Seungcheol wrote this song for Jeonghan, who the hell did you write this song for?

—

A tune comes to you while you drive home that night. You scribble down a couple lyrics in your notebook as soon as you walk through your door.

Silver hair. Silver skin. Sliver of my heart you took with him.

Joshua throws a party that weekend. A housewarming for the house he bought with the ‘Begin Again’ checks. Stepping in through the foyer, you question whether you should be buying a house too. You forget that thought by the time you reach the drinks table.

After your hellos to the rest of the band and all the small talk with people Joshua wanted to introduce you to, you end up standing alone in his backyard, sloshing around the dark liquid in your cup. Truthfully, you’ve barely left your apartment all week. You hadn’t been in the mood for a party. But it’s nice out here. The air is fresh and crisp. The lights, which Soonyoung and Minghao enthusiastically and drunkenly told you they helped put up, are warm but not too bright. You imagine you’ll stay out here for the rest of the party.

“Hi,” you hear a voice say from behind you. You turn around only to find Jeonghan. You hope your face doesn’t betray you when you greet him back. “What are you doing out here?”

You gulp down a bitter sip of your drink. “Just wanted some quiet.”

“Same. Junhui started doing karaoke again.”

“Oof.” You groan sympathetically. “Already?”

He just nods with a laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen all of them.”

You like Jeonghan. You really do. It’s just taken you until now to realize that you don’t really know him apart from small talk in the studio and the two songs Seungcheol wrote about him. “When did you move down here from your guys’ hometown?”

“Oh.” His chin juts out a bit. “I moved down with the band actually.”

You don’t hide the surprise on your face.

“I take it no one told you that then.” Jeonghan chuckles darkly. You shake your head. “Uh, well, yeah,” he continues, shoving his free hand into his pocket, “Seungcheol and I started dating right when the band formed. I used to do the photography for them. And when they proposed moving out here, I thought I ought to come with. And I did.” He gulps his drink. “It was good for a while. Really fun in the beginning. But then I got my job taking pictures for the paper, and they were doing the album. And well,” he looks at you like you already know what he’s about to say. You don’t. “It already wasn’t really working anymore by the time the album was finished. And then they went on tour…”

He leaves that part blank. But based on what you heard from Seungcheol about that first tour, you can piece together what might’ve happened. You question whether Jeonghan left that empty to spare Seungcheol or to spare himself. Then you question how he knew you knew about it.

“Oh.” Is all you say. You don’t ask about when they encountered each other again. You don’t want to hear it.

“You know,” Jeonghan begins again, “I actually used to watch you play at the Tabernacle.”

You groan immediately. You only ever played at the Tabernacle when you first started. You cringe thinking about what you might’ve sang on stage in front of him. “Oh my god. I’m so embarrassed to even think about those days.”

“No! Don’t be!” He reassures, kindly. “You were really good. I especially liked that one song that went like… The days were wide open, as far as the eye could see.”

Your heart nearly soars straight out of your body. You had forgotten about this song. You used to love it dearly. You join Seungcheol’s boyfriend for the second line.

The world was mine to take, but I’ve never been good at accepting things.

“You and the band together,” Jeonghan says a moment after you both stop singing, “it’s magical, don’t get me wrong, but that song,” he smiles at you, “it’s a damn good song.”

You can’t help but smile back. “Thank you.”

“Cheol showed me a couple of the songs from the album.” Jeonghan mentions, and it instantly and heartbreakingly reminds you who you’re talking to. You hate that he has a nickname for him. “They’re amazing.” You look at him. He seems genuine. “They’re so good and real and raw that it almost makes me wonder…” his voice tapers off, losing the sound to a small exhale that appears as if it was meant to be a laugh, “Nevermind.”

“What?” You poke, instinctively leaning in towards him.

He meets your eyes, creases running along his forehead and frown lines more prominent than ever. “It almost makes me wonder if there was something between you both.”

You swallow, pointing at your chest. Your voice comes out raspy without you meaning for it to. “Me and Seungcheol?”

He nods. “Yeah, I mean the lyrics in ‘Begin Again’—“

“That song’s not about me. Or about him.” You defend. “We didn’t even know each other when we wrote that.”

“What about ‘Can You See Me’?”

Your breath catches. Truthfully, you answer, “I don’t know what that song’s about.”

—

When you get home that night, you finish the song you started writing about Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

When you breathe in his lips, do you think of mine? What kind of songs were we making? Were they all lies?

“What’s it called?” The question comes from Soonyoung.

You look up from the paper in your hands filled with the lyrics you had completed over the weekend and after Joshua’s party. You notice he looks sad. You turn your gaze to Minghao. You can’t really tell what he’s thinking in that moment.

“Uhm–I don’t know. I haven’t thought of a title yet.”

Seungcheol walks in then. “What are you guys talking about?” He asks, setting down his stuff. Then, more to himself than to you guys, he murmurs, “And where are Junhui and Josh?”

Soonyoung and Minghao don’t say anything. Instead, when Seungcheol asks what you’re doing, they both look at you. You imagine even if Junhui and Joshua were here, they’d do the same. Have you really been this transparent? At what point did they put together all the pieces?

You hand Seungcheol the song. You have no idea what his reaction will be.

He just nods, like he has no idea what the song is about. Like he doesn’t see his name and Jeonghan’s scribbled in the margins.

“Call it ‘Silver Lies’.” He says.

Minghao makes a noise. “Call it ‘Silver Linings’.”

“Vote on it?” Seungcheol proposes.

“No.” You look at Minghao. He stares back at you. Something unspoken lies in the space between. “We’ll call it ‘Silver Linings’.”

A party rages around you. Flashing teeth and flashing lights. Another drink, another riff. You don’t even know where you are right now. You remember coming home after working on ‘Silver Linings’; you remember wanting to forget your own mind. This is the only way you know how.

You don’t even know how long it’s been.

This is what you do know: You’re sitting by a pool. Your feet are wet. You haven’t been this drunk since your 18th birthday. Choi Seungcheol is standing across the pool from you.

Your face breaks out in a smile. Sober you will regret that. Sober you will also regret how your first thought is that he looks beautiful. You’ll regret the fact that you finally, drunkenly but honestly, admit to yourself how pretty you think he is, how you’ve thought so since your first time hearing him sing, and how you’ve been so painfully aware of it ever since.

You let yourself fall in the water. Head sinking for a moment, before breaking the surface again. Floating on your back, you start humming the melody to ‘Silver Linings’ in your head.

Silver hair. Silver skin. Sliver of my heart you took with him.

You can’t tell if it’s the chlorine or something more pathetic that burns the corner of your eyes and runs down the side of your cheeks.

You feel something tug on your arm. The sudden jolt makes you lose your balance, falling beneath the water. You’re so fucking wasted you forget if you even know how to swim; you almost forget to not breathe.

You feel a pair of arms pull you up and hold your head above the surface. You know who they belong to. It strikes you in the back of your mind that this is the first time you’ve been touched by him. So maybe that’s why you relish in the feel of his arms around your waist and the way his hand grips at your hip.

He looks at you like you’re filth. Just as all your partners before him did. First they’re sweet and charming, but it always ends like this. In their arms, simultaneously wanting to be far away and fighting the urge to beg: love me, please.

Even if he wasn’t your partner, even if all he was was a hope and a ‘what if’.

You barely even register it when you say, “you're just like the rest of them.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He rages back, not even acknowledging what you said.

“Nothing.” You tell him, smiling, wishing like hell that you believed it.

“You missed our studio time. We were supposed to record ‘Silver Linings’.” He fumes at you. “Do you know what time it is? Do you even know what day it is?”

“Do you know how much of a fucking mood kill you can be?” You bite back.

“What are you on?” He looks repulsed. You hate it. Hate the way that you showed him your whole heart and that he still looks at you like this.

Seething, you say, “What do you think?”

And that—that is what breaks him. What makes him lose his shit and start screaming.

“Jihoon is fuming at us!”

You barely notice it. Instead, you repeat in your head the words to the one song you truly, wholeheartedly wrote for him.

“The record label isn’t going to let this slide, you do realize that, don’t you?”

When you breathe in his lips, do you think of mine?

“You wasted an entire day of recording!”

What kind of songs were we making?

“No.” You say finally, voice coming out quiet. It sounds so misplaced and so wrong next to all the yelling between you two. “We wasted so much more than that.”

Were they all lies?

For the first time since you’ve seen him tonight, he doesn’t say anything back. He just stares at you, like he can see straight through. The party continues all around you. It never stopped. It never quieted down. And yet, it somehow feels like you and him are the only ones in this pool. Like you’re stuck in time. Like you’ve created your own world with him and that’s where you’ve retreated to now.

“Was any of it real?” You ask before you can stop the words. You hate how pathetic you sound. You hate how desperate it all is.

All he says before leaving you in the water alone is: “I’m with Jeonghan now.”

He splashes water in your face on his way out.

When Seungcheol walks into the studio, you’re already there, talking with Jihoon and someone else he doesn’t recognize.

“Hello.” He says cautiously to the group.

The man says hi back. You don’t look at him. Jihoon is the one that finally explains.

“Seungcheol, hey, this is Wonwoo. He’s from the paper, The Stones, and he’s going to be doing a piece on the band and the creation of the album. It’ll be an inside look into the process of making an album and a bit about the band itself.”

“Hey, man,” Seungcheol greets properly, extending his hand to shake. Wonwoo fumbles with a place to set down the pen and notebook in his hand for a second, before shaking it. Seungcheol doesn’t miss the way you scoff under your breath. “Wonwoo, right?” The reporter nods. “Anything you want us to do for you or for the piece?”

“No. Not at all.” He shakes his head profusely. “Just keep working on the album as you would normally. I might pop in here and there with questions, but other than that, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

Seungcheol smiles brightly. “Well, you’re in for a treat today because we have a song to record.”

For the first time that day and for the first time since that night in the pool, you look at him. “No, we don’t.” He wonders if you remember that night, what you said to him, what he said back.

“Actually,” he reaches into his bag and pulls out a piece of paper he’s been working on for the past two days. He hands it to you. “We do.”

You read the lyrics silently for a moment, then frowning, you read them aloud. “I’m used to making games out of broken hearts. Silly me for trying to play around with yours.”

Wonwoo makes a noise. “Damn. I wonder who that’s about.”

You snap, whipping back around to Wonwoo. “What happened to ‘it’ll be like I’m not even here’?”

He mutters an apology and quickly scribbles something down in his notebook. You turn back to Seungcheol. “I’m not singing that.”

He ignores you and looks at Jihoon. “Let me see the song.”

You extend the paper out to him without taking your eyes off of Seungcheol. In Jihoon’s defense, he’s been working the hardest to keep the peace as early as when you recorded ‘Being Again’ together. Nonetheless, your face still morphs from hurt to angry. Seungcheol doesn’t blame you, but he also doesn’t really give a fuck.

Jihoon, sounding more exhausted than Seungcheol has ever heard him sound before, only sighs. “How about we just try the song?”

—

Recording first starts with the instrumentals. The rest of the band recording their parts exactly as Seungcheol heard it in his head.

Finally, with the rest of it recorded, he focuses on vocals.

He only wants you singing it.

“Take one of...” Jihoon starts, speaking through the intercom. “What’s it called again?”

Seungcheol answers: “‘We Are Not Done.’”

You’re the only one in the recording stage. Seungcheol sits in the control room with Jihoon, Hansol, and Wonwoo. The rest of the band is either home, in the lobby, or behind him in the control room. Seungcheol’s already demonstrated for you the general beat of the lyrics against the instrumental. You still hold the lyrics up behind the mic, brows furrowed at them.

“Pour me a drink I–for all…” Normally, you’re a picture of confidence in the recording studio, but your first attempt to sing the song is an absolute train wreck.

Seungcheol reaches over Jihoon’s shoulder and presses the red button. “Cut. What’s going on?”

You look through the window, exasperated. “I don’t get it. The words, they just–”

“It’s–Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.” Seungcheol demonstrates again. “I can’t live with myself half past 12–and it’s just like that for this whole verse.” He waits a moment. “Good?”

You stare at the lyrics, brows still scrunched together. “Yea.”

“Okay. Take two.”

You sing: “Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.” Your voice is timid, almost. Seungcheol’s never heard you sound or act anything close to timid before. “I can’t live with myself half past 12.”

“Cut.” Seungcheol stops you again. “You have to sound larger than life singing, like you don’t care if people see how fucked up you are.”

“Excuse me?” You nearly scream at him.

“I’m talking about the song.”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Take 3.”

You look mad now. At least that will be closer to what Seungcheol wants. “Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me.”

“Cut.” Seungcheol can see you biting your tongue. “Sing it looser. Less restrained. Don’t worry about hitting the notes. Take 4.”

“Pour me a drink for all the fools–”

“Cut.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Even looser. Take 5.”

“Pour me a drink f–”

“Cut. Let your voice get ‘ugly’. Take 6.”

“Pour me–”

“Cut!”

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: So, Seungcheol, I remember there being an impossible number of takes for the track ‘We Are Not Done’, specifically for the vocals. In the end, How’d you get them to sing like… that?

Seungcheol: Sometimes all it takes is a little push

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: ‘We Are Not Done’ is such a force of nature. How’d you end up singing it like that?”

You: Well, let’s just say that Seungcheol is really good at what he does.

Wonwoo: And what does he do?

You: He inspires.

—

The red light flashes again. “Take 32.”

The only thought you have when the blue recording light turns back on is that you fucking hate Choi Seungcheol, but you still want him and you hate that he knows that.

The track starts.

Pour me a drink for all the fools made out of me. I can’t live with myself half past 12. I’m used to making games out of broken hearts. Silly me for trying to play around with yours. I know you’re with someone new, But is that really true If you’re still thinking of my kiss and my tongue? I’m your wildest dream. I’m your best nightmare. You and me, baby, we are not done.

You’re beyond pissed driving home from the studio that day.

The first fucking day with the reporter and Seungcheol chose to make you look like an idiot. He chose to make you sing that song with Wonwoo sitting behind, taking it all in.

Not to mention that that was the first time you’ve seen him since he showed up at the party while you were trying to get over him the only way you know how. When he held you in his arms, made you feel so stupidly warm, and then left with someone else’s name on his lips.

You hate Seungcheol. Maybe joining the band wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth him.

Your vision goes red and all you can think is: isn’t he over this yet? Aren’t I?

Suddenly, there’s a bang. A puff of smoke. The airbag releases. Your entire body clenches, lurching forward and then back again harshly.

A crash, you register belatedly, staring at the hood of your car folded up like a piece of paper.

Paper.

You dig inside your glove box for your notebook and shove your hand in the space between the passenger seat and the center console to find a pen.

“What the fuck?” The man from the car you hit screams, stepping out of his car.

You ignore it. A song, you had it just then. You had it.

“You hit me!” He yells again, getting closer.

Your pen hits the paper, and it doesn’t stop until the song is on it. Not even when you notice blood drip. Not even when the man starts banging on your window.

Is it over now? Do you have the guts? To call it quits, baby, Say I’ve had enough. Is it over now? Can we say the words? I used to love you, Now I’m not sure.

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: What’s it been like working with the band? From ‘Begin Again’ to now?”

You: Oh, well, ‘Begin Again’ was a totally different story. I wasn’t really part of the group or anything. I was more just an outsider that Jihoon and the label had brought in. I changed up most of the lyrics, but the song was never really mine. I think it’s taken me a while to realize that. But, now, I mean, working on the album together couldn’t be more different. Seungcheol and I co-write almost all of the songs. It’s been a much more collaborative project compared to ‘Begin Again’. It’s been exhausting and tiring and life-consuming, but um, it’s been a lot of fun.

Wonwoo: So, going back a bit, if you rewrote all of the lyrics to ‘Begin Again’, how is it not your song?

You: Seungcheol already had some lyrics written for that song. I was just the one to figure out what he was really trying to say with them.

Wonwoo: Hm

Wonwoo: So what’s it been like working with Seungcheol?

You: Well, it definitely wasn’t easy at first.

Wonwoo: Why not?

You: I think we were both just used to writing alone. We learned a lot in those first couple writing sessions, and I think we’ve both grown a lot since then.

Wonwoo: What’d you learn?

You: We’re very similar people. We think about love very similarly. We have fought the same battles, and we’re both able to turn our pain and struggling into something beautiful.

Wonwoo: How would you describe you and Seungcheol’s personal relationship?

You: What do you mean?

Wonwoo: Friends, lovers, enemies, etc.

You: We have chemistry, but

You:

You: But I think that to write together there has to be love. What else would all the songs be about?

Wonwoo: Is that what ‘Can You See Me’ is about? Love?

You: That’s for each listener to figure out for themselves.

Wonwoo: You also said that you co-wrote most of the songs with Seungcheol.

You: Yes.

Wonwoo: So, did you guys co-write ‘We Are Not Done’ and ‘Is It Over Now?’?

You:

Wonwoo: No need to go into details if you’re not comfortable. I’m only really looking for a yes or a no.

You: It–

You: It’s not as simple as a yes or a no.

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: What’s it been like working with someone else for the song writing on this album?

Seungcheol: It’s been hard. There’s a lot of push and pull for each word in each song, but I think at the end of the day, we’ve been able to put together an almost complete record of songs that we’re both proud of.

Wonwoo: It’s been said that the two of you have chemistry–

Seungcheol: Who said that?

Wonwoo: –do you agree with that?

Seungcheol:

Seungcheol: It’s not what you think.

Wonwoo:

Seungcheol: Look, whatever chemistry people think there is between us, I mean, it–it’s for the music and for the songs, not for each other.

Wonwoo: Are you saying it’s all fake?

Seungcheol: No, but it’s not real life either.

Wonwoo: So you guys fabricated some of it to sell records?

Seungcheol: I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea.

Wonwoo: Which is what?

Seungcheol: That there’s something between us romantically. There isn’t.

Wonwoo: Not even a little bit?

Seungcheol: Not even once.

The photo shoot for the album they decided should be in the desert. You’re not really sure why. Probably something to do with the desert show where you and the band first played together. You didn’t have a choice in the matter. If you did, you would have suggested the opposite. Maybe something on the shore. Nonetheless, you let them tell you where to sit and exactly how to do it.

The photographers look between each other after each flash of light in your face. Thank god they aren’t actors. You can read on their faces how much they hate each photo taken.

“You know what,” the head photographer says to the band, “let’s just take 5.”

You’re up immediately, walking away from the weird set they’ve put together and heading straight to the snack table. You say hi to Jeonghan standing there with a camera around his neck.

“Did the paper send you or did you come with Seungcheol?” You ask lightheartedly, picking at some grapes.

He laughs, fiddling with the lens. “No, not the paper. I just like to bring my camera with me sometimes. Plus,” he adds with a far off smile, looking up the hill at Joshua, Junhui, and Minghao talking, “reminds me of the old days.”

You look up past those three to where Soonyoung and Seungcheol are laughing at something you wish you were privy to. “I get that.”

“Actually, Seungcheol and I wanted to talk to you.” He says. His lips look pressed, eyes bright, fighting a smile but also fighting something else far beneath that. “Once the album wraps, we’re, uh, we’re gonna get married.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know. It was his idea, but I’m really excited about it too.” He tells you, abashedly. “We’re gonna keep it small, I think. Do it back in our hometown so that our families can be there and everything. I think most of the band is gonna travel back too to be there, and, uh, I know it would mean a lot to both of us if you were there too.”

You look at Jeonghan. You don’t really think he’s lying about the last part, but that still doesn’t make it any easier for you to swallow. “I don’t really know if that’s a good idea.”

“I do.” Jeonghan doesn’t falter. It reminds you of you before Seungcheol. You wonder where that version of you went. After a moment, his face softens, lips turning down a bit, but eyes looking as kind and as big as ever. You notice that his hair isn’t silver anymore.

“I know that it’s complicated between you and Seungcheol. And I’m not going to act like I get it because I don’t. But I like you and I know he loves you. If not for anything, then for this.” Jeonghan gestures to the shitty set they prepared. You look at it, chuckling. It’s shitty, yes. But Jeonghan’s right. This must’ve cost the label a fuck ton of money. “He and the band wouldn’t have any of this if not for you. You did that for them.”

You turn back to Jeonghan. Genuinely, you tell him, “Thank you.”

You open your arms to him. He welcomes it, hugging you back. You exhale. You can barely remember the last time you did.

“Congratulations, Jeonghan.” You feel him grin.

“Please come.” He requests.

You don’t know if you will. But you do know that you’re happy for him.

—

The next round of photos are no better than the last. You hope at least Jeonghan, who’s moved on to taking pictures of the scenery, is having a better shoot day than the label-hired photographers.

You find Seungcheol again during the next break, standing in the back at the top most part of the hill, sun shining down directly behind his head.

“Hey.” He says to you, not casually but not maliciously either.

You stop in front of him, just staring. Without you even meaning to, you frown. Seungcheol must notice. He tilts his head. “What’s up?”

You inhale sharply. “You’re getting married.”

His mouth opens, then closes. “I’m getting married.”

You shake your head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-it never..” He stops trying to find the words. You find that as more of an answer than anything he could’ve said. “I’m sorry.”

“Take me home.” You recite, thinking of the first window you ever had into Seungcheol’s heart. “Welcome me on those familiar roads. Embrace me in your arms. Oh please, tell me I still belong. It was always about him, wasn’t it?”

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything. You know him too well to think he would. Instead, he sucks in his bottom lip and turns his gaze to the ground. You bend your neck to see his face, see his red eyes. This is the only time you’ll have him like this again. This is it.

The only thing you have left to say to him is: “I hope you’re happy.”

—

When you go home that night, you drink yourself past consciousness. It’s only when you wake up with a pounding head the next morning do you see the song sitting next to you, written in sloppy, drunken handwriting.

Tell me was it worth all the pain Tell me would you do it over again Tell me was it worth the lights and your name Tell me was it worth the sound of my shame Tell me was it worth the album and the songs That I only sang thinking they were about us Tell me some it was true, not in my head Did we only kiss to sound how you wanted?

I know I’m not yours But let me your wildest dream You think of again On a bad night After a bad fight

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: Who wrote the last song on the album: ‘Not Yours’?

You: I did.

Wonwoo: When?

You: Right after the album cover shoot.

Wonwoo: What inspired it?

You: Well

You: I think that song had been singing in my heart for a while before I finally wrote it.

—

(Wonwoo’s interview with Seungcheol)

Wonwoo: ‘Not Yours’ is such a heart-breaking song. What was it like recording it?

Seungcheol: Believe it or not, it was one of the easiest.

(Wonwoo’s interview with Jeonghan)

Wonwoo: It’s nice to finally meet you.

Jeonghan: You too. If I can be honest, I really didn’t expect to be called about this piece.

Wonwoo: Oh

Wonwoo: I just like to get all sides of it.

Jeonghan: Okay.

Wonwoo: I wanted to talk to you about the album photo shoot.

Jeonghan: Oh yeah of course.

Wonwoo: From my understanding, the picture that was chosen as the cover, was one that you took. Is that correct?

Jeonghan: Yeah. I took it during one of the breaks.

Jeonghan: I mean props to the photography team that was hired, I’m sure they’re amazing, but it wasn’t hard to tell that they were really struggling to photograph the band.

Jeonghan: I just happened to have my camera on me, and you know, I had photographed the band in the past, so I just kind of knew what to look for. And when I saw Seungcheol and them go off to the side to talk, my eyes just happened to follow them. And

Jeonghan: Well, I don’t know what they were talking about, but you can see it in the photo, you know?

Jeonghan: They’re looking at each other like it’s a very important conversion. And well, let’s just say that I know Seungcheol very well, and he’s never been a good actor, so it must have been. And, and the sky is so blue and so clear behind them which, I don’t know, to me sort of represents how there’s nothing coming between them in this moment either. There’s nothing that isn’t being said.

Jeonghan:

Jeonghan: When I saw that, I just knew I had to capture it.

Jeonghan:

Jeonghan: I had no idea that Jihoon would want to use it for the album cover. I wasn’t thinking like that.

Wonwoo: Was it weird at all?

Jeonghan: How so?

Wonwoo: To capture a picture of your finance and his bandmate looking at each other like that?

(Wonwoo’s interview with Jihoon)

Wonwoo: So does the album have a name?

Jihoon: Yeah. Of course.

Jihoon: Aurora

Wonwoo: Can you tell me anything about the band maybe going on tour?

Jihoon: Well, can’t say anything for sure yet, but there’s definitely been some talk from the label about it.

Wonwoo: If there were to be a tour, are you able to give us a sneak peek as to what it’ll be like?

Jihoon: Hmm

Jihoon: Did you happen to see the band play the festival in the desert?

Wonwoo: No, I did not.

Jihoon: Well, I’ll tell you what anyone who saw that show would say.

Wonwoo: Which is?

Jihoon: Get ready for the best fucking show of your life.

(Wonwoo’s interview with you)

Wonwoo: I heard most of the band is heading back to their hometown for the break.

You: Yeah, they are.

Wonwoo: Do you plan on joining them?

You: No.

You: I don’t think I will.

Wonwoo: What do you plan to do during your time off?

You: Well, I bought a one way ticket to Italy, so that should start something. Maybe I’ll go to Nepal or Japan or Brazil after that. I haven’t really decided yet.

Wonwoo: So, traveling.

You: Yeah, I guess.

You: Can you believe that the festival show we did is the farthest I’ve ever been from home?

You: It’s time I saw a little more of the world.

Wonwoo: The fans are really looking forward to a tour. Can you speak to when you will be coming back?

You:

You: Who’s to say I will?

216 notes · View notes

nonnieandclyde · 2 months ago

Text

☆XDH as things men have said to me on Hinge☆

Back at it again…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Gunil

Jungsu

Gaon

O.de

JunHan

Jooyeon

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

42 notes · View notes

ode2rin · 1 year ago

Text

1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending). You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is.

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge.

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.”

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face.

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate.

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?”

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap. Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage.

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected.

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning.

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted.

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.”

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea.

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?”

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty.

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it.

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.”

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs.

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter.

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious.

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.”

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street.

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser.

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways.

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

#☁️ my ode to you #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser imagines #kaiser imagines #michael kaiser x y/n #michael kaiser x you #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #michael kaiser #blue lock fluff #first milestone event!#writing: 004

3K notes · View notes