#the 2k event -- fairyhaos

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: seungcheol + luxury

alternative title: what makes you happiest?

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader

genre: non-idols au, angst, hurt/comfort, husband!cheol

word count: 1340

warnings: curse words, pet names

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 @yonabutnotyuna @lvlystars @k-drama-adict

It’s dark when Seungcheol manages to get home, and he’s utterly exhausted.

The moment he opens the door and takes off his shoes, however, the lights flick on and he sees you standing in the hallway, arms crossed, and he sighs.

“Y/N,” he greets tiredly, standing there in the doorway. You’re here for a confrontation, and he’s not going to try and fight you on that. He’ll always give you what you want. Even in situations like this. “Hello.”

You’re in your pyjamas, the worn cotton dragging against the floor as you shift your feet, leaning on one hip. “You’re home late. Again.”

Seungcheol sighs. He’s so tired, having gone through probably a thousand meetings that day, having to reject and approve countless different projects, sitting there and unpicking and redoing all of his spreadsheets because his useless assistant was good for literally nothing. He’s late home, yes, but he’s always late, and he wonders why that’s such a big deal today.

“I know,” he says simply, rubbing his face. “Y/N, I know I’m late. Why are you up, anyway? It’s almost midnight.”

Your eyes widen, and a look of disbelief crosses your face. “Why am I up? Cheol, what about you?”

Seungcheol blinks, and then frowns. “I don’t understand. This is when I normally get home on a weekday.”

The disbelief is replaced by sadness, and anger, and upset. You bite your lips, fists clenching where you have your arms crossed, and you lean on your other leg. “And don’t you think that’s not right? Why do you think I’m up, Choi Seungcheol? Why do you think I’m here, right now, standing at the door and waiting for my husband to get home even though it’s well past midnight?”

“I… I don’t get it,” Seungcheol says, and he knows it’s the wrong thing to say because your eyes ice over and your knuckles go white. “Y/N, come on, this happens every day. Why are you so upset today?”

“Because you’re never fucking here!” you burst out, throwing your hands into the air. You scream in frustration, days and months of pent-up frustration and utter loneliness manifesting itself in a matter of seconds as you scream again, wringing your hands together. 

Seungcheol flinches, surprised, but he keeps his gaze on you as you breathe heavily, eyes burning.

"I wake up every morning, and you're not there beside me. The bed is cold, Cheol, by the time I'm awake. That tells me you've been gone hours before me. Do you know how shitty that feels?" You hold up a hand when Seungcheol opens his mouth, barrelling on. "No, no, you're going to listen to me. I know you said that it's for work, that you're just so busy these days, but God forgive me if I just want to feel loved for once! You couldn't spare a minute to write me an adoring little note, to send me a text when you go, to do something to reassure me?"

Seungcheol purses his lips, willing the tears not to spill over from where they’d sprung up, startled, in his eyes. He tries to keep his voice steady as he says, “I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy.”

“I know,” you say, raking a hand through your hair, teeth gritted, trying not to scream at your husband more than you ought to. “I know that, Choi Seungcheol. But you’ve been staying out later and later, and I know it’s for work, but I barely see you these days.” You hold out your hands to him imploringly. “I just need to know you love me. I just… I feel like the Seungcheol I love doesn’t even exist anymore. And like I don’t exist to you anymore.”

Seungcheol frowns, the thought of you not knowing how much he loves you grating on his nerves. He’s still so exhausted, forcefully having to push the cogs in his brain to get them to work, but he knows that isn’t right. That he’s doing everything for you. Always for you.

He crosses his arms. “That’s not true,” he says. “Y/N, that’s not true. It’s because of me that you can have everything you want, at any time you want. It’s because of me that we have this house, the one you love so much. You can’t say that I don’t love you when I’m working my ass off every day just for you to have everything in the world.”

“Have you considered that maybe I don’t want all of this?” you spit. 

“Of course you do!” Seungcheol fires back. He’s infuriated now, upset that you think so little of him. “You asked for this!”

You laugh, but the sound is high and mocking. “We really don’t know each other at all, do we, dear husband? I said I wanted all of this with you! This means jack shit to me if I don’t have you by my side! Because it’s you who I love so goddamn much!”

Seungcheol reels back, shocked.

“I don’t want a life of luxury if I can’t have it with you,” you say, and now there are tears in your eyes, glistening bright and crystal. “I just… I miss you so much, Cheol. I don’t—I’d go back to living through our college days in a heartbeat if it meant I could have you back, dream house be damned.”

You take a deep breath, and the anger drains out of you as you exhale, shoulders slumping. You look as tired as he feels.

“Sometimes, on really bad days, I don’t even see you,” you say, voice cracking. “You’re gone by the time I wake up, and I fall asleep before you get back. Do you know how lonely that is? I married you not because you’d make loads of money, but because you’re Seungcheol, and because I love you. And I—I don’t even get to see the love of my life anymore. It’s like I’m married to a ghost.”

The tears fall down your cheeks now, eyes all blurred, and you don’t even look at him, gaze fixed on some point past his shoulder, and you look so sad and broken and alone and Seungcheol realises just how much he’s been hurting you.

“Y/N,” he says softly, stepping forward, reaching for you as you collapse into the plush carpet, kneeling down in his work suit, letting you cry into his shoulder. “Y/N, my love, I’m so sorry.”

You’re trying to speak, but he won’t let you, the remorse and guilt forcing words out of his throat, trying to apologise over and over again.

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault,” he whispers, cradling you against him, wrapping his arms securely around you, keeping you safe in his embrace. “I’ve been inattentive, I haven’t been around enough lately, and I’m so sorry.”

“I—I just keep thinking—wh-where did we go wrong?” you manage to say, before dissolving into sobs again, shaking. 

“Shh, I’m sorry,” he says, again, because there’s nothing else he can say. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I should have known that this was hurting you.”

You take a shuddering breath, and he hushes you gently, rocking you back and forth, your thighs wrapped around his waist as he hugs you securely, tightly. 

“I just wanted you to be happy,” Seungcheol says thickly, swallowing his own tears as you cry harder. “I thought that giving you all of this would make you happy. I didn’t—I didn’t think about how you might want something else. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to make you the happiest.”

“Idiot,” you choke out into his chest. “I’m only going to be happiest if I’m with you.”

He laughs, the tears spilling over, his heart feeling so full and so empty and squeezing so wonderfully painfully as he holds you in his arms, blindly pressing his lips to the top of your head. “You’re all I need to be happy, too.”

“So stay home then, Cheol. Stay with me.”

And he does.

[wheeboo]

wheeboo's 2k follower event

guess what, everyone? the wheeboo garden has officially reached 2,000 flowers! i seriously cannot express the amount of thanks and love i have for every single one of you, and i appreciate all the support this place has gotten since the moment i first started posting <3 i can't wait to continue this journey alongside you all and for us to continue blooming together! to commemorate, i planned a lil event in celebration for this milestone that you all can participate in!!

RULES ⭐

⋄❥ everything will be kept sfw. i'm fine with writing suggestive scenes, just nothing explicit.

⋄❥ any content involved in the event will be under the tag #wheeboo's 2k event!

⋄❥ asks/requests for the event will be open until april 30th. anything sent after that will not be written.

⋄❥ i will start writing/answering your asks this upcoming week.

⋄❥ my general requests are closed, but it will be open for this event only, so if possible reference the event in your ask whenever you send it in!

FIC GAME ⭐ (limited slots -- 20 slots)

⋄❥ submit a member of your choice, and up to two dialogue prompts from the lists down below OR a song of your choice, and i will write you a fic (!! please remember to be specific from which prompt list you choose from !!) ↳ ex: mingyu + #17 from list 2 ↳ ex: seungkwan + #5 from list 3 + #10 from list 1 ↳ ex: jeonghan + daylight by taylor swift

⋄❥ the fic will be 500 words or more, depending on the prompt(s) sent in and how much inspo i get <3

⋄❥ you can send in multiple reqs, but i cannot promise i will write every single one you send in or if i get to it at all. and of course, i humbly ask for all of your patience while i get as much done as i can <3

⋄❥ prompt list 1 (@eddysocs) | prompt list 2 | prompt list 3 (@dumplingsjinson)

ASK GAMES ⭐ (unlimited slots)

⋄❥ ask me questions about myself AND/OR my fics whether published or unpublished, and i will respond as long as i am comfortable with it (ask me my favourite colour, drink, opinion on something, favourite trope to write, my wips, what the process of ___ fic was like, etc. anything!).

⋄❥ send me an ask describing your personality and i will match you with a member and a trope, and i'll write a mini-headcanon for you! (non-mooties, be as much detailed as you wish! you can be anon too!)

⋄❥ you can send in as many asks as you want, but please keep it in separate asks if you choose to do both!

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights

also tagging some moots for visibility n boosts srry guys ^^ ʚɞ @etherealyoungk @fairyhaos @blue-jisungs @slytherinshua @welcometomyoasis @haecien @mangocustard16 @weird-bookworm @kyeomyun @bookyeom

[yoontoonzzz]

seventeen fics

⁺˚⋆｡°✩ minghao ✩°｡⋆˚⁺

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short fics (<5k words)

⟡ labcoats and accidents - woozvc (smau, crack)

pairing — grumpy!the8 x sunshine!reader genre/s — one shot smau, fluff, non idol au, hao is kinda mean but it's fine we love him(+a little bonus at the end) synopsis — minghao is fine in his little bubble and doesn't want new friends but you can't stand not being friends with someone.. what happens when you get paired together for a chemistry project?

⟡ untitled - wqnwoos (f, crack)

“that one looks like a penis,” you say conversationally.

⟡ 2k event: minghao + password - fairyhaos (f)

alternative title: three words, eight letters pairing: minghao x gn!reader genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, fluff

⟡ untitled - husbandhoshi (f)

5. romcom // 9. “you kissed me.” “you kissed me first!” "it all started in the laundry room."

⟡ motivation or distraction? - by-tea (f)

xu minghao x gn!reader summary: all minghao wants is your attention. 

⟡ untitled - wqnwoos (f)

minghao loves you, and it comes as easily as breathing most days.

⟡ kisses for hao - babyleostuff (f)

genre | fluff [is a bit suggestive]

⟡ [16:31] - chenfleur (f)

“Oh, darling.” Shivers run down your spine at Minghao's pitiful tone.

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long fics (>5k words)

⟡ — ✧ devil by the window - toruro

temptation touched my tongue / spread the wings of desire (a friday the 13th special) description: all your fairy friends warned you not to get tangled up with the demons that lurk on the ground, but you swear on every star in the sky that minghao is different. warnings: smut (18+), consent is clear but reader is somewhat unaware of what sex is

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smut

minors do not interact | each fic has its own tags

⟡ red (k)nights - toruro (s)

pairing. xu minghao x reader tags. smut (18+), so much fluff, royal au, princess!reader, knight!minghao, secret relationship (kind of?!), minghao’s finger pieces from the super mv … description. minghao is your knight in shining armor. literally.

⟡ untitled - hanieehaee (s)

content: minghao x virgin!reader, established relationship, afab reader, smut soft sex, fingering, penetrative sex, they're in love &lt;//3

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find more fic recs here

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[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: minghao + password

alternative title: three words, eight letters

pairing: minghao x gn!reader

genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, fluff

word count: 1068

warnings: none

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @weird-bookworm @amxlia-stars @pepperonijem @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8

"Xu Minghao!"

There’s the sound of someone crashing through the apartment, and Minghao attempts to stifle his grin. Not even a second later, his bedroom door is thrown open and you stand at the threshold, laptop in hand, fuming.

“Xu Minghao,” you repeat, teeth gritted. “What have you done to my laptop?”

Minghao cocks an eyebrow. “I didn’t do anything.”

You scream, a frustrated yelp that would be much more terrifying if you weren’t pouting like a baby. It’s cute.

“Hao! Come on, I need this laptop for my assignments. Please, please tell me what the password is. What did you change it to?”

Minghao shakes his head, going back to his phone, sipping his cup of tea. “I told you, I didn’t do anything.”

There’s a long silence. He looks up.

You fold your arms, the laptop still dangling in one of your hands. You stare at your roommate for several seconds longer, before turning around on your heel with a sniff.

“Fine. I’m gonna call your mother and tell her that you’ve been bullying me.”

“Wait!” Immediately, he sets down his teacup and scrambles out of bed, following you as you run into the kitchen to dial Minghao’s mother and tattle on him. “Wait! Y/N, no, wait, I’ll give you a hint.”

“No. Give me the whole password,” you say, dangling your phone in the air, out of Minghao’s reach.

It works for all of five seconds, because Minghao is some crazy flexible person with ridiculously long arms. He snatches your phone away, exiting you out of the phone app and shutting your phone down. You whine, attempting to snatch your phone back but he holds a hand over your face, keeping you in place.

“A hint,” he repeats firmly, and there’s desperation in his eyes, along with something… warm? “I’ll give you a hint, and you won’t call my mother.”

You remove Minghao’s hand from your face, huffing. The laptop is on the counter beside you, and you glance at it before looking up at Minghao again.

“Fine,” you say at last, making grabby hands for your phone. “Gimme a hint.”

Minghao grins, bright and happy again. “The password is three words, eight letters. All lowercase.”

You huff as Minghao plops the phone back into your hand and then retreats back to his room. “That’s not a very safe password!” you yell back at him.

“Have fun!” is all he replies.

You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling, just a little, at his antics.

———————————— ⌨️

“This absolute idiot,” you mutter to yourself, typing angrily on your laptop. “How can three words only have eight letters between them?”

The sun is now dipping below the horizon, slowly bleeding into the darkness of the night, and you’re still locked out from your own laptop. After receiving your hint from Minghao, you’d sat down at your desk, cracked your knuckles, and set to work.

It’s been hours since then. You’ve had your laptop bar you from inputting a password attempt at least ten times. You’re five more ‘incorrect password’ messages from tearing the thing to pieces.

“Minghao!” you yell. “Tell me my password!”

You receive no reply.

“Why did you change my password in the first place?”

Silence.

“Minghao, I hate you!”

Minghao laughs. “I love you, too!”

You grumble to yourself, staring at the log-in page in front of you. The log-in page stares mockingly back. The cursor continues blinking at you, and really, who knew that cursors knew how to look like they were laughing?

“I bet it’s something really simple,” you groan. “If I were Minghao, what would I change Y/N’s password to? What would annoy Y/N the most?”

This third-person thinking really just proved how the whole situation was driving you insane.

You frown down at your laptop, chin in hand, tapping your cheek thoughtfully.

“Minghao! Is it a sentence?”

There’s a brief pause. “Yes.”

Your eyes light up. “Of course! I-H-A-T-E-Y-O-U!”

The sound of dry laughter floats across the hall from Minghao’s bedroom. “Haha, Y/N, very funny.” He pauses. “You’re not far off, though.”

“What, you hate me?”

“No!” Minghao pokes his head out of his room, glaring at you. “Figure out your password yourself.”

“You’re the one who changed it!”

Minghao just shrugs, as if to say ‘that’s your problem’, and his head disappears with a slam of his bedroom door.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “What’s close to ‘I hate you’, anyway?”

But then you freeze, a shiver running down your spine, fingers halting on top of the keyboard. What if it’s not ‘I hate you’ but rather… 

Your brain is screaming at you, telling you to get out of your fantasies, but your heart is thrumming in your chest with hope, faint, foolish hope, and your fingers shakily input the letters anyway, holding your breath.

You press the ‘Enter’ key.

Your laptop’s homescreen wallpaper flashes up in front of you.

———————————— ⌨️

Minghao wakes up to a laptop in his lap, and a post-it note slapped on the lid.

He rubs his eyes, wondering idly if it’s a note telling him that you’ve taken his laptop hostage until he tells you the password to yours, before pausing. Because this is his laptop in his lap, right now, and your obnoxiously bright pink post-it note has a mere four words written on it.

Four words, eleven letters.

Minghao tilts his head, smiling, suddenly much more awake. The apartment is quiet, almost unusually so, and he can almost see you in his mind’s eye, already wide awake in your own room, waiting to see what his reaction will be.

Part of him is proud that you figured out the password to your own laptop. Part of him is annoyed that you messed with his in retaliation.

Well, he supposes, he kind of started this.

He thinks he already knows what you’ve changed his password to, considering the fact that you’ve decided to respond in this way rather than storm into his room and yell in his ear before promptly trying to pack a bag and leave him. 

Nevertheless, he won’t deny that his heartbeat is abnormally loud as he opens the laptop lid, typing in the password that comes to mind.

I love you too.

The log-in page pauses, loading, as if intentionally prolonging Minghao’s anticipation, before then it lets him in, presenting him with his laptop’s homescreen.

Minghao smiles.

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: mingyu + tuxedo

vote for this fic in the poll!

alternative title: the wolf and the fox

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader

genre: spy au, club au, strangers to lovers, sexual tension

word count: 1220

warnings: slightly suggestive themes, illegal business, drugs mention

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav

If there is one thing about his job that Mingyu despises, it’s going on undercover missions.

Not that he’s not good at it. Oh, no—Mingyu is one of the best, and he knows that, but sometimes he wishes he could have a simple, in-your-face fight with their enemies, rather than having to slink around and don fake smiles and fake personalities and stab people in the back.

“So, who’s the target this time?” Mingyu mutters to himself, smoothing down the lapels of his tuxedo as he eyes the rest of the aristocrats mingling around in the dimly lit room.

His earpiece crackles. “You’ll know them when you see them,” Wonwoo’s smooth voice replies.

Mingyu rolls his eyes, looking around in disgust as the richest people of their nation get high in this illegal drug party he’s infiltrated. “I need more information than that. Come on, I know Seungcheol trusts me, but I can’t find our target with my gut instincts alone.”

“Mingyu.”

“It’s not like I’m a bloody psychic or anything. Am I meant to go round and asking everyone for their names? Because there are a lot of people here. I don’t think I can do it. It might take forever.”

“Mingyu, come on, Cheol already told you. The less you know, the better.”

Mingyu scoffs. “Yeah, and I still don’t get it. How can less information help me on this mission? I don’t get it. Wonwoo, can't you tell me anything? Just one small detail? Pretty please?”

“Alright, just shut up,” Wonwoo says, and Mingyu can hear his eyeroll. He grins triumphantly. “I’ll tell you their name. They’ll introduce themselves as Y/N.”

“Wha— you’re going to give me a name? That’s it?”

“That’s all I’m allowed to give you. Good luck.”

“Y/N?” Mingyu says, lost. But the line has gone dead, and he huffs in annoyance, tapping his earpiece. “Wonwoo, come on, who’s Y/N?”

“That would be me,” a soft voice says from behind him, and it’s a wonder he hears you above the clamour of the club, but there’s something commanding and attention-capturing about your voice that makes him turn.

You’re standing right next to his elbow, having somehow managed to slink up to him undetected where he sits by the bar.

“Y/N,” Mingyu says, and gives you a once-over. Your eyes are bright, smile mysterious and deceptive, but there’s nothing that gives you away as a potential target. But then you smile wider, a brilliant flashing of teeth, almost predatory, and he grins. 

“Were you looking for me?” you ask, voice still deceptively soft, like you’re playing a game that only you know the rules of, and he decides that he’d indeed like to play your game for a while. A long while, in fact. Enough to figure you out, and then some.

He slides off the bar stool, reaching for your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles. “Mingyu,” he introduces, looking up at you from where he’s still bent over your hand, lips quirking up into a smirk. “And I’d love to have a dance with you.”

And so that’s what you do.

You manoeuvre him into the centre of the floor with ease, and the music is thumping and the lights flash in a brain-aching way, but the two of you sway gently as if it’s the most romantic moment in the world.

Mingyu’s still trying to size you up, trying to identify the threat, trying to see if he’s meant to get you on their side or make an enemy out of you immediately. However, before he can say anything, anything to gauge who you are and what you want, you look down at where his hands rest on your waist, and then back up at him through your lashes.

“I think we’d make a good pair,” you say, flashing that brilliant smile again. “You and I. We’d work together really well.”

He tilts his head to the side, momentarily losing his focus as you lick your lips slowly. As if you want to eat him.

“Would we?” he says after a moment, and your smile widens. “In what way?”

There are a thousand innuendos there, and neither of you are blind to that. He expects some crude joke about positions and bedrooms, as would be customary of the vulgar aristocrats who frequent this place, but you reply with something rather different.

"Well, we will be like a wolf and a fox," you say, smoothing Mingyu’s suit shoulders and tugging at his tie cheekily. 

Hm, Mingyu thinks. Like partners in crime. And he’s not unaware of the way you had said “will”. As if this was something that would happen in the future.

Well. Mingyu certainly wouldn’t be against that.

"Oh? And who will be the wolf and who will be the fox?" Mingyu decides to humour your interesting talkings, allowing you to pull him forward, grinning. 

"Let me think," you hum, a smirk on your face as you fondle the folds of the tie before your eyes trail up to flutter at Mingyu. "I think you'll be the wolf."

Mingyu’s hands wrap more tightly around your waist, chuckling at the small noise of appreciation that leaves your lips. You’re still swaying across the floor, but the loud music has faded from your ears. It’s just the two of you and the electricity crackling in a protective shell around you. "And why is that, my dear fox?"

Your smirk grows. "Well, you're the bumbling one. The large, burly figure, perhaps not the smartest, but by God are you smoking hot." 

Mingyu chuckles, and he’s not even hiding the fact that his gaze is trained on your lips. “Smoking hot, am I?”

"Hmm, maybe," you tease. "And me, well… I’m sly. Smaller, sneakier, and yet still devastatingly beautiful, am I not?"

You lift up a finger to trace Mingyu’s jawline, and he leans even closer, eyes searing. 

"You are a sly one, that's for sure," he murmurs. Your scent is utterly intoxicating. Mingyu closes his eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck. It takes everything in him not to bury his face into your neck, or smash your lips together, or press you even closer against him and never let you go. 

But before he has the chance to do anything at all, you’ve disappeared, and Mingyu is left holding no one, only the faintest scent of your heady perfume being left behind. 

Mingyu opens his eyes, dizzy and disoriented, looking round the hazy club for where you might have gone. He sighs in frustration, stuffing his hands into his pockets and attempting to reach for his phone before finding— 

He huffs, letting out a dry chuckle as he turns out his empty pockets. "A sly fox, alright," he murmurs. "How bold of someone to steal from one of the renowned figures of the spy world," he smiles to himself, dangling your golden necklace from between his fingers, slightly-too-small silver rings adorning his pinkies. 

Y/N is an interesting person, that’s for sure.

Mingyu’s earpiece crackles again.

“Mingyu? Did you find Y/N?”

Mingyu stares off into the distance, where your figure has disappeared, a slight smile on his face. “I did.”

“Good. Because they’re going to be your partner on this next mission.”

“W— my what?!”

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: jeonghan + empire

vote for this fic in the poll!

alternative title: burn, palace, burn

pairing: prince!jeonghan x f!empress!reader

genre: historical au, empire au, enemies to lovers, angst

word count: 1517

warnings: mentions of blood, war, death, manipulation, imprisonment (yeah,,, this ended up a little dark)

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @jeonwonwoo

War is never something you’ve enjoyed.

Bloodshed is horrifying, and the amount of lives lost, often futilely, make your stomach churn and your heart ache. The effects of war are almost always felt for generations after, staining child after child and traumatising the land beyond belief, the blood of enemies and allies and victims painting nightmares into the soil.

What a shame that your hands are dripping in that very blood.

You sigh, straightening yourself in your throne, brushing at the delicate golden chains dangling from your headdress as they touch your shoulders. However, you’ve been brought up by a tyrannical family, hell-bent on controlling their people. It’s always been your greatest desire to undo that damage, create a prosperous society, but that has proved near impossible.

That was a lesson your advisors had taught you, early on in your reign. As a woman, you’d have little power but to do as the men before you had done.

“Your Imperial Highness! The Great Sun of our land! Your imperial army returns from their latest battle!”

The doors to the throne room burst open, and in strides the head general, helmet under his arm, chest puffed, cheeks splattered with blood. It makes you feel sick.

But what makes you even more ill is the fact that he’s not alone. Behind him, two other soldiers drag in a man, tugging on his chains and forcing him to kneel before you. His head his bent, once-rich robes tattered and torn. There is a crown on his head, but on closer inspection, it looks to be a crude imitation of one, fashioned from tatty cloth and rotten sticks.

“We have returned from our conquest in the East,” your Head General says, proud. “The Kingdom of Thae has fallen to your mighty reign.”

Another kingdom acquired by your crown, you think weakly. Another kingdom for your advisors to lord over. Another kingdom for you to play at being empress to.

“Well done,” you say, and try to hide the discomfort from your voice. Masking it should come easily, given the countless times you’ve done this, but your horror at what has become of you never ceases to fade. “The Imperial Crown thanks you for your service.”

The Head General nods in acknowledgement, and point to the man kneeling beside him. “We have brought the prince of the Thae Kingdom here to you. Though their King and Queen have been slaughtered, Advisor Kim relayed that you would enjoy certain… spoils of war, if there were any left.”

Your head spins. This is horrific. You want to leave.

“Yes,” you manage to force out, as gracefully as possible. “Thank you.” You look down at the man, and his head is still bent, but his chained wrists shake from the way he clenches his fists tightly. “Pray tell, what is the prince’s name?”

The Head General smirks, and steps back. “Would your Imperial Highness like to take a look at him?”

It’s posed as a question, but you have no choice.

You rise from your throne, (lies, it’s not yours, it’s always belonged to anyone but you—) and descend the steps, kneeling before the man, the heavy silks of your skirt fanning out beneath you.

With one finger, you lift up his head, and your breath catches.

He’s beautiful.

“Prince Yoon Jeonghan, Your Imperial Highness,” your Head General introduces for you, and even his name is beautiful.

His hair, raven-dark and mussed up, is still velvet-soft as you tuck a lock behind his ear, mesmerised by his beauty. His eyes are like black diamonds, so dark that you could fall into them and yet endlessly bright and sparkling. His skin is pale, and he looks so small and delicate and you wish for nothing more than to whisk him away from this horrible, horrible world.

Jeonghan snarls, and his teeth sink into your wrist.

Immediately, the guards around him pull at his chains and tug him back, tug him so hard that he falls back, head crashing painfully on the cold stone of the floor.

“Oh!” You don’t even register the stinging teeth marks on your wrist, bleeding red beads, standing up and rushing to his side, holding the back of his head, even as he swats angrily at you, chains clinking. “Are you alright?”

Jeonghan stares at you as if you’ve gone insane, wrestling himself from your grip and receiving more harsh tugs for his actions. 

“I gather that Your Imperial Majesty is pleased with this prince?” the Head General says, and the sick pleasure in his tone makes you look up.

“Indeed,” you say, with all the authority you can muster. “Now, leave us.”

There are little benefits to being a puppet empress, but at least the people still have to respect you.

Once they all leave, and the room is empty, you fall to your knees beside him once again, brushing at his robes, seeing if he’s alright. But Jeonghan pushes your hands away again, hissing.

“Leave me alone,” he snaps, and his voice is cracked and hoarse but the anger pulsates, ever-present and unable to be hidden. “I refuse to be your boytoy.”

“Let me help you,” you beg, noticing the bruises along his arms, the dried-up blood on his neck. “Please. I could— I could give you a good life here. I promise.”

Jeonghan’s eyes darken, icy flames dancing in his irises, every blink oozing hate. “Your promises mean nothing to me,” he spits. “I refuse to bow down to a bully like you. You’re a killer, a manipulator, and I want nothing to do with the likes of you.”

Every word is a steel shard struck straight into your heart, and it’s startling how much the hate stings you. You’ve conquered countless kingdoms before, albeit not by your own choice, and you know that this is how people must view you. And yet, it hurts, to hear the venom and calculated rage pouring out of this prince’s mouth.

“I’m not those things,” you say quietly, voice echoing meekly within the large throne room. 

Jeonghan scoffs, opening his mouth to retort, and you rush to carry on.

“I’m not the one in charge. I have no power, no control here. I’m—I’m as much a prisoner as you are, a prisoner to my people, to my advisors, to my court. They prod me and push me around as they please, and I can’t do anything against them without being killed. Please, I— just let me help you.”

The hate does not waver in Jeonghan’s eyes. His delicate, pale face is contorted into an expression of such loathing that it makes you shiver in fear.

“If you’re all those things,” he says venomously, “then how can you help me?”

“I can keep you alive,” you say. “I can make sure you won’t die any time soon.”

Jeonghan freezes, and then slumps. He’s sitting on the floor of your recently polished throne room, satin robes torn and charred and splattered with blood. The floor shines, and his blackened fingers curl into the stone, fingernails scraping painfully.

“I just want my parents to be alive,” he says, quietly. “I want my life back.”

His words hit too close to home, and your heart constricts. It takes you several deep breaths before you manage to compose yourself again, and you rest a hand gently on his own.

“I can’t give that to you,” you admit, “however much I want to. I… I can’t even do that for myself.”

Jeonghan looks up, and there’s a question there, amongst the flickering flames of derision and fury and sadness.

“But I can give you a life,” you say. “It won’t be your old one, but it’ll be a life all the same. If you work with me, I can… I think I can free you. Free everyone.”

Jeonghan’s brow furrows, and a sheen covers his eyes as he thinks it over. He’s tattered and underfed and probably suffering several wounds, and yet he is taking the time to think of your offer, and part of you wonders faintly if Jeonghan, before all of this had happened to him, had been someone intelligent and calculating and revered by his people.

You feel even more ill for what you've done to him. For what others have done to him in your name. 

“Very well,” Jeonghan says finally, and your eyes widen. His chains clatter once again, and he holds his hand out. “Help me, and I help you.”

You smile, and take his hand, gently helping him to his feet. “I promise.” You prod at the chains on his wrists. “I'll free you. I will."

The beginnings of a smile tug at Jeonghan's lips. He tugs at the golden threads of your crown, and you let him, let him push it off, let it crash to the floor in a tinkle of expensive and heavy metal. 

"How noble of you, Empress," he says, but there's a light in his eyes, devious and cunning. He's a fighter, Jeonghan is. You can tell. He grins. 

"Let's burn this empire to the ground."

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: junhui + castle

vote for this fic in the poll!

alternative title: you are my kingdom

pairing: crown prince!junhui x royalty!gn!reader

genre: historical royalty au, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers

word count: 1167

warnings: none

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994

The wind whistles through the castle, seeping in through under the heavy wooden doors, in through the windows that aren't quite sealed enough to keep away the small squeals of air. You hold your breath, trying to not make a sound, curling up even tighter in your spot in the wardrobe. 

"Y/N?" A voice singsongs, and you stiffen at the sound of footsteps echoing on the stone floor outside of the room. "Where are you?"

The door to the room you're in creaks open, and you try to pretend that you're not there.

It doesn't work, though, because not even two seconds later, the wardrobe door swings open and a man grins down at you, dark eyes glittering. 

"Aha! I found you!" Junhui declares, bright and happy, and you groan. He offers out a hand to help you to your feet, and you accept it, brushing off your clothes as you step out of the wardrobe. "Why are you even hiding in these rooms, anyway? You're never gonna need to come to the visitor's wing."

"Hey. We're playing hide and seek for me, you know. Because I don't know the layout if your castle. You never gave me boundaries!" you point out as Junhui leads you out of the room. "I wouldn't have known the boundaries, anyway. Because again. I don't know the layout of your castle."

Junhui laughs. "That's true. Well, anyway, now you know. These are the visitor wings, where we place the visiting royals or Lords who are coming to make relations with the King."

"Your father," you correct. 

"The King," Junhui says again, smiling. "They don't come say hi to my father just because he's my dad, do they? They come because he's the King."

You shrug. "Fair enough."

"Do you wanna play another round of hide and seek?" Junhui asks. "We have some time before some duties we need to carry out. And then Father wants us to eat with him for dinner."

"Yes! Let's play another round!" you say, clasping your hands together. "I think I almost have down the important parts of the castle."

Junhui grins, and takes your hand. "Okay, let's go back outside! I'll count to one hundred again."

As Junhui drags you through his castle, laughing as you stumble over uneven cobblestones and barrel past surprised servants, you can't help but marvel at how different he is from any other Crown Prince you've ever met. 

You can't help but marvel at how you're married to him. 

It hadn't been a love marriage, but rather an arranged one, as most marriages between kingdoms' royal children were. You had little say in who you were going to marry, and Crown Prince Junhui had been chosen for you purely because your father had wanted to maintain peace with a newly emerged kingdom that showed potential to one day be powerful. 

You were a pawn in the grand scheme of petty politics, to say the least. And you had hated it. 

You had done your utmost to sabotage the engagement, refused all of Junhui's courting gifts, fiercely denied meeting him right up until the day of your marriage, insisting that if your freedom to choose who you were going to marry was being taken from you, then you were going to fight for every other little bit of freedom that you could. 

The marriage had been a whistlestop affair, feeling more like a treaty signing with mildly more fanfare than the wedding it was meant to be, and that had infuriated you even more. 

You'd vowed to despise Prince Junhui and his kingdom forever, especially when you'd been whisked away from your home to go live in his castle with him. 

That is, until the day you walked in on Junhui in tears. 

It had been an accident, with you still unaware of the castle layout having only been there a week, and your maidservant was little help, a snooty young lady who seemed to despise the fact that their "attractive young prince was marrying a person who could hold no candle to his beauty". 

You were trying to search for the stables and had gotten hopelessly lost, wandering around the edges of the castle until you accidentally stumbled upon Junhui, hidden in the long grass in a dip in the stones where a turret met the straight walls, wiping his eyes. 

It had startled you, to see him look so sad and lost, and in that moment it struck you that Junhui was in the same position as you, that he was stuck in a loveless marriage just like you, and here you were, snapping at him and avoiding him and being utterly horrible when his life surely wasn't looking any nicer than yours. 

Silently, so as not to be noticed, you had stepped backwards and left him alone. And three days later, you sought him out in his chambers, hand outstretched and tentative smile on your face, asking for a truce. 

And that leads you to where you are now, many months later. Running through the castle. Playing hide and seek to help you understand the layout of how your new home works. 

"Your Highnesses!" the Head Knight yelps, practically throwing himself into the wall as the Crown Prince runs past, with you in tow. "Please be careful!"

"Sorry, Cheol!" Junhui yells back. "You're getting slow in your old age, though!" he adds, and you laugh. 

There's something so youthfully beautiful about Junhui's face when he smiles like that, you think, as he rounds the corner and throws open the doors that lead outside into the courtyard. 

He's so beautiful. 

"Oh my God," you gasp, leaning against the wall, panting. "I think I'm getting slow in my old age."

Junhui laughs again, dark eyes twinkling. "Nonsense. You're young and fit and beautiful, nothing at all like the old hag that is Seungcheol."

You stifle a grin, trying not to focus on how his words make your heart thump oddly in your chest. "Sure, sure. I bet he could still run you through in the blink of an eye, though."

"Oh, definitely," Junhui says instantly, and you laugh at the promptness of his answer. "But our Court Physician? Wow, Jeonghan is even more of a hag, I swear. He never leaves his room."

You tilt your head. "Jeonghan?"

Junhui's eyes widen. "I haven't taken you to meet Jeonghan, have I? Don't worry, we'll do that first thing tomorrow."

It makes your heart warm, really, the amount of effort Junhui is putting in to make you feel comfortable in his kingdom. Ever since that incident those several months ago, he's been the one friendly face you've found comfort in within this new place. He's been your friend. 

But as he beams at you before turning to face the wall, rambling on about how's he's going to count to 100 really slowly to allow you to choose the best hiding spot ever in this castle, a realisation hits you in the chest so hard that your eyes widen. 

Oh, no. 

"Junhui."

Junhui turns around, his face open, and he looks so beautiful that your heart thumps even harder and you're blurting out what you're thinking without even stopping to reconsider. 

"I think I'm in love with you."

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: minghao + galleries

alternative title: most beautiful art

pairing: minghao x gn!reader

genre: non-idols, fluff, established relationship, art galleries, proposal au

word count: 1877

warnings: pet names (love, darling)

event taglist: @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 @yonabutnotyuna @lvlystars @k-drama-adict @onedumbho3 @sluttyhansol @haowrld

Art galleries aren't your thing, but they are Minghao's. 

"I think you're a little insane for this," he tells you, half-seriously, but the fondness and wonder is evident in the undercurrent of his voice, and you laugh, watching your boyfriend as he slowly drifts towards the first of the artworks in the room. 

"Insane only for you, my darling," you say teasingly, but he looks back at you with a smile all the same. You shrug, casual, like this is no big deal. "I have friends who have friends in high places. I know how to pull strings in order to hire an art gallery for a couple of hours."

Minghao's eyes widen at that, straightening from where he's bending down to read a plaque. "A couple of hours?" When you only grin wider, he shakes his head in disbelief. “I don��t think I’ve ever loved you more than I do right now.”

You laugh, putting your hands in the pockets of your dress pants with a bashful shrug. “I know how much you’ve wanted a private viewing in this gallery.”

“I have,” he says, face softening as he walks over to you and kisses you quickly, before grinning, wider than you’ve ever seen him grin before, his expression glowing with an almost childish giddiness. “And if you need me, I’ll be… somehwere.”

With that, he disappears through the several archways into another room, lost into the worlds of paints and marble and stories.

You smile, heart feeling so full to bursting, happy that your boyfriend looks happy. His birthday is coming up soon, but that isn’t the reason that you’ve gone to all the effort to hire this art gallery, just for the two of you, for an obscene amount of money. Oh, no. This is for something a little bit bigger.

You’re planning to propose.

Slowly, you wander through the rooms, keeping an eye out for where Minghao is, smiling impossibly wide as you watch him take pictures in the empty gallery, very clearly enjoying himself immensely. Art galleries have a certain ambience that is rather nice, you suppose. With all the gilded frames and wooden floors and the entire aura of beauty and delicacy and riches, it really would make a nice place to propose.

Everything is all planned out. In the center showroom of the gallery, you’ve managed to ask them to empty it out completely. In your pocket, the velvet ring case sits comfortably against your thigh, a warm secret you’re planning on exposing very, very soon. And in your heart, there resides a mess of nerves, but also hope, hope that everything will turn out well.

You’ve been dating for years now, and you’re both settled, and talks of marriage have been skirted around for at least a year. Minghao will smile and shake his head whenever you bring it up, and an excited giddiness rises up inside you every time you think of what his reaction will be of you proposing to him.

“Y/N, love, come look at this!”

Your head snaps up at Minghao’s voice, and you automatically find yourself gravitating towards it, drifting across the room to where he is. “I’m coming!”

Well, you don’t have long to wait to find out. Somewhere, waiting up in the CCTV room, there’s Junhui, who’s watching and waiting for your go-signal so that he can launch your proposal surprise.

But until then, you’ll enjoy this gallery date with your boyfriend, his arm linked with yours.

———————————— 🌃

You’re hiding something, and Minghao knows it.

He knows it for two reasons: number 1 being that you’re unusually jumpy, and number 2 being that you’re actually paying attention to the art.

He’s brought you to countless museums and art galleries before, sometimes against your will, most of the time with you agreeing to go. But he’s noticed that you never really look all that closely at the artworks. Mostly, you’re following him around, taking pictures of him, chattering thoughtfully or staying silent.

But as he watches you squint unusually hard at one oil painting portrait, he decides that you’re definitely hiding something from him.

“Darling?”

You flinch, and then lift your head up to look at him, eyes bright under the gallery lights as you beam. “Yes, my love?”

Minghao looks at you for a long moment, before just smiling and extending his hand out to you. He smiles wider as your eyes light up even more, and you walk over to him without questioning, grasping his outstretched hand and interlacing your fingers together.

Well, really, if you keep smiling at him like that forever, then he kind of thinks that it'll be okay for you to keep your secret for however long you want.

He leans in and kisses your cheek, softly, chuckling as you scrunch your nose at the action. “Let’s keep going, he says, squeezing your hand. “Two hours isn’t as long as you think.”

“That’s true,” you say thoughtfully, and follow dutifully as he leads you out of the room and into another. “In which case, why don’t we go to the center showroom now? They probably have all of the best stuff, right?”

“Sure,” Minghao says, guiding you through the rooms. He looks back at you, once, and then slows down, the smile on his face spreading.

You stop too, the confusion evident on your face, before Minghao steps into your space and brushes the finger of his other hand over your cheek, and then kissing you softly. It’s a short kiss, short and sweet, but you smile against his lips almost instantly, melting into him as the finger on your cheek turns into a whole hand. He cradles your face, delicate, and lets out a quiet laugh as you hum in content when he pulls away.

“I love you,” he says, low and sincere. “And I always will. I’ve loved you for too long to stop loving you now.”

“Goodness, look at you getting all cheesy on me,” you say teasingly, the adoration clear as day in your gaze as he brushes his thumb over your cheek once before letting you go, walking back through the gallery once more. “I guess I managed to turn the Xu Minghao into a softie, hm?”

Minghao fakes an exasperated sigh, his own lips twitching upwards in fondness. “I guess you really have.”

He finally arrives to a room that leads into the center showroom, but then his steps slow in confusion as he takes in the sight through the archways. He frowns, confusion giving way to concern and worry.

“Y/N,” he says slowly, “Why is this room empty?”

You just smile, and release his hand. You take a step back, and then gesture for him to walk into the showroom. “Go on,” you encourage. “It’ll make sense in a minute, I promise.”

Minghao tilts his head, lips twisted in bewilderment, but he does as you ask. He walks into the room, slowly, looking around for anything suspicious. But he can’t see anything, and he stops in the middle of the room to look back at you. You’re standing at the entranceway, and your smile looks like it’s trembling. If Minghao didn’t know any better, he’d say you were sad.

But he does know better, has known you for years, and knows that when your eyes sparkle like that, you're not sad, but excited.

“Perfect,” you breathe out, and suddenly all the lights go off in the room, save for a spotlight directly over Minghao.

He blinks, startled. “Y/N?”

“Minghao,” you return, smiling wider. “Hao, what do you think the most beautiful piece of art in the world is?”

Minghao simply gapes, open-mouthed, trying to understand what’s going on.

“Is it one of your own paintings?” you ask. “Is it a painting at all? Maybe it’s a sculpture. A collage. A dance piece.” You step forward, slowly. “Art can come in many forms. Beauty comes in many forms.” You interlace your fingers together, gradually making your way across the threshold and into the showroom. “Hao. Guess what I think the most beautiful art in the world is.”

Minghao shakes his head. “I don’t know.” His heart is pounding: he doesn’t know what you’re doing.

“It’s you,” you say, and your words are warm and he sees the way your eyes positively light up at your own confession. “Ever since the day we met, it’s always been you. You, with your wit and your sarcasm and your gentleness and your… well, your everything. You’ve always been the most beautiful thing in the world to me.”

“Me?” The cogs are turning in Minghao’s brain, trying to work out what you’re doing as you continue to step even closer to him, until you’re almost at the edges of the light of his spotlight.

You stop, right before you can step into the circle of light. “The center showroom is for special artworks,” you say. “For special exhibitions, too. Special visits, from special people, who might be interested in the artwork, who find themselves enamoured by it, and want to spend years gazing at the artwork that most catches their eye.” You pause, and then smile. “It’s for special proposals, of a sorts.”

Finally, finally, everything clicks. Minghao’s eyes widen as he watches you reach into your pocket and slowly get down on one knee in front of him.

“Oh,” he says, stunned. “You’re…”

“Xu Minghao," you say, and your voice is shaking, but your eyes are brighter than a thousand stars. "I love you. Perhaps more than I've ever loved anyone, or anything, before. And I promise to cherish you, to appreciate you, and to show you that love for as long as the two of us live, if you're willing."

You swallow, take a deep breath, and then beam up at him, opening the little velvet box in your hands to reveal a diamond engagement ring. 

"Minghao," you say softly, voice quietened with nerves, "will you marry me?"

There's a heavy moment as Minghao simply stares down at you, speechless, hand over his mouth. And then he nods, vigorously, pulling you to your feet and cradling your face in his hands. 

"Yes! Oh, of course," he breathes, and then wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. "Of course. I love you. I love you."

He repeats it over and over as he rubs circles into your back, feeling the way you shake in his arms, his own mind still reeling over the fact that he's just been proposed to. By the love of his life. 

You're murmuring "I love you"s right back at him, and his heart swells as he pulls away and lets you slide the ring on his finger, lips twitching upwards in both amusement and sheer joy. 

He looks up from his hand to your face, and under the bright light of the spotlight, you look like you're glowing, both with happiness and a beautiful, angelic light. 

"For the record," Minghao says, as his newly ringed left hand cups your cheek and the other rests against your waist, "in my opinion, you're the most beautiful piece of art too."

And then he leans in, and your fiancé's lips against yours are utter bliss. 

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: dokyeom + blanket

alternative title: coming home

pairing: dokyeom x gn!reader

genre: non-idol au, established relationship, hurt/comfort

word count: 1097

warnings: 1 curse word, reader falls over

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @karionice @graybaeismytae @hopetiger10

To put it plainly, you've been having a bad day. 

Every day these days has been a bad day for you, really, and you don't even know why. Little things, like not being able to eat properly, or waking up slightly late, or simply having an off day have constantly left you drained and irritated. 

But today, you're even more so. 

"Stupid computer having to break down making me work stupid overtime and come home late," you mutter to yourself. It's dark as you fumble with the front door of your apartment, but your fingers aren't cooperating with you after having been cramped over a keyboard for so long, and you're cursing to yourself repeatedly by the time you do eventually manage to get the door open. 

"Fuck!"

And then you trip over the entrance. 

There's a pattering of feet coming rushing into the entryway where you're lying in a pained mess on the floor, a voice crying out in shock over the haze of anger and frustration and exhaustion blurring your senses. 

"Oh my god, babe, are you okay?"

Your head is pounding, limbs aching, but then there are warm arms wrapping around your torso, lifting you up onto your feet, and a face comes into view, frowning in worry while the hands keep you upright. 

Seokmin's expression is emanating concern, eyes warm and dim in the lack of light, mouth twisted downwards and he looks so lovely and worried for you that you can't help the way your own face scrunches up and you begin to cry. 

His eyes widen but he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms even tighter around you, letting you burying your head into his shoulder. 

"Oh, baby, what's wrong? What happened?" 

He's warm, you manage to think faintly, smelling like a mix of himself and the scent he sometimes wears and home. You didn't even realize how much you've missed him until you were in his arms again. 

"Shh, it's okay," he says softly, holding you as you shake and sob in his arms. "It's okay, cry as much as you need, Minnie's here now. Everything will be okay."

And God, even as you're bawling your eyes out and hiccupping and wetting the shoulder of his shirt with your tears, you kind of do feel like everything will be okay. 

"I'm here, I'm here, shhh, don't worry. I love you. I love you." Seokmin says it over and over, his voice endlessly gentle and there's so much love bleeding into his words that you cling to him even harder. 

The door is still open, and you haven't even taken your shoes off yet, but Seokmin holds you and soothes you through the sudden tears until they die down and until you can breathe normally again. 

That's when he pulls away, face illuminated by the cold dimness of the night air, but his smile is full of wonderful light that makes him glow. 

He doesn't pull away far enough for you to leave his arms, and he gently strokes your cheek with one hand. "How was your day, Y/N?" he asks. "It must have been hard, wasn't it? That's why you're so upset today, hm?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, and Seokmin coos softly. 

"Oh, my poor darling," he says, fingers trailing from your cheek to the back of your head to pull you into another hug. "Don't worry, you're home now. I'm here. Minnie will take care of you."

The third person reference makes you laugh, a small, bubbling sound. "Minnie always takes care of me."

"Mm, does he?" Seokmin says, and his tone is soft and teasing all at once and it makes you smile. He pulls away, grinning at you. "That's good. He's gonna be able to take care of you now."

"Will he?"

"Mhm!" Seokmin beams brightly, kissing you on the cheek before gently disentangling himself from you. "Let's get you out of your shoes first, baby. And how does a nice mug of hot chocolate sound?"

"Sounds good," you say, a little shyly, as Seokmin leans past you to close the door before bending down to coax you out of your shoes. "And…"

Seokmin looks up, and his face is so open and ready to accept whatever you say that your heart clenches, amazed once again that such a man loves you. 

"And what, babe?" he asks. "What do you wanna do?"

"Can we… make a blanket fort? Maybe?"

Your boyfriend blinks, before a starry smile spreads over his face. "Of course." He stands up, cupping your cheek and kissing you lightly. "Anything for you."

———————————— 💫

It takes two hours, because Seokmin insisted that you took a nice, relaxing bath while he set up the fort and the hot chocolate for you before promptly realising he couldn't do it all by himself, but by the end of it you're squished between your fluffiest pillows with a blanket over your legs and Seokmin against your back. 

"Feeling better?" he asks, chin on your shoulder. He kisses your cheek quickly. "We can sleep in tomorrow. I think you need a break."

"Tomorrow's the weekend, I get to sleep in anyway," you point out, and Seokmin makes a little "oh" noise before laughing.

"You're right. Well, even more reason to sleep in then," he says. "In fact, I'll hold you down if you try and get up before me."

That makes you laugh, leaning back into his chest, watching the shadows being made on the blanket walls by the small lamp in the middle of the fort. "I'll hold you to that."

He chuckles, a soft rumbling sound that tugs a smile up your lips. 

"Hey," Seokmin says suddenly, shuffling around so that he can hold his hands out in such a way that it casts shadows over the walls. "Guess what animal this is."

"Uh… a cat? A rabbit? A dog?"

Seokmin lowers his hands in disbelief. "A dog?" He puts his hands up again, flapping them around. "In which universe is this a dog, Y/N? Come on, what's this?"

"I dunno," you tease. "It looks like a turtle to me."

"If you get it wrong this time, I'm gonna tickle you," he warns. "I think you know exactly which animal this is."

"Do I? 'Cause I'm still pretty sure it's a dog—ah! Hey!"

Your protests are cut off by your own laughter as Seokmin's fingers tackle your sides, his smile bright and glowing gold with love and warmth. 

Your day had been terrible. Horrible, actually. 

But maybe it was all okay if you had a Seokmin to come home to. 

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: vernon + recording

alternative title: i'm always falling for you

pairing: vernon x gn!reader

genre: non-idols, fluff, established relationship, yoon jeonghan is a little rascal, pickup lines (kinda)

word count: 1413

warnings: none

event taglist: @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 @yonabutnotyuna @lvlystars @k-drama-adict @onedumbho3 @sluttyhansol

“I can’t believe you have a recording of when I first met my boyfriend.”

Jeonghan grins at you, impish, pausing the video and taking back his phone. “Of course I have a recording of it. It’s hilarious.” He looks down at his phone, replaying the video and then laughing. “Yup. Totally hilarious.”

You shake your head, shoving Jeonghan’s shoulder and making him fall back on your bed. “Han, you’re meant to be helping me get ready for my date. Not showing me that video.”

“You mean you don’t wanna see you faint into Hansol’s arms three seconds after seeing him for the first time?”

“Jeonghan!”

The man cackles, and you roll your eyes exasperatedly, before digging through your wardrobe again.

Tonight is your third year anniversary of dating your boyfriend, Hansol. He’d insisted that he’d take you out on the best night ever, and, anxious of his plans, you’d enlisted the help of your wonderful friend to help you choose something nice to wear.

Said wonderful friend, however, is intent on not being helpful and instead tormenting you with embarrassing memories.

“That was literally years and years ago,” you say, voice muffled as you struggle through your clothes, “so why do you still have a video of it?”

“Because it’s a precious memory, duh,” Jeonghan grins. “I’ve never seen you so flustered over a stranger, Y/N. And you literally fainted in his arms! In public!”

“I had had a bad day,” you protest, emerging out of your wardrobe to put your hands on your hips. “And—and Hansol was cute! I thought he was an idol or something.”

Jeonghan hummed amusedly. “So your first instinct upon seeing a celebrity is to faint into their arms?”

You pause for a moment, thinking. Then frown. “See, now you’re twisting my words.”

He watches as you promptly dive back into your wardrobe again, complaining about how you don’t have anything to wear and Hansol won’t tell you what to wear because he wanted the date to be a surprise and doesn’t he know that you can’t plan an outfit for surprises?

“I think you’re too hung up over this,” Jeonghan says, just as the doorbell rings. His eyes light up. “Oh! That’s probably Hansol right now.”

You pop your head out, wide-eyed. “Oh no. I’m still in just normal clothes! Han, what do I do?”

Jeonghan just grins, before hopping out of your room and you hear the pattering of his feet as he walks to your front door and lets Hansol in. You groan, listening to their voices gradually make their way closer to your room. Jeonghan was the worst best friend ever.

You dive back into your wardrobe again, sifting through clothes you’ve gone over hundreds of times in the past hour alone. Hansol would probably shrug and shake his head at how stressed you’re getting over a mere outfit, but this was a big milestone! It’s three years! You’ve been dating Hansol’s handsome and goofy ass for almost 1100 days! It’s a significant step in your relationship, and you firmly believe that it should be celebrated while you look your absolute best.

“Y/N?” Hansol asks, and his voice sounds like it’s right behind you, partly amused and partly concerned. “Why are you trying to suffocate yourself in your hoodies?”

“Because, Hansol, I have nothing to wear!” you say, exasperatedly. 

There’s a slight pause, and you can almost see the mystified look that Hansol gives Jeonghan, to which the elder just shrugs with a grin. And then Hansol speaks again.

“Uh, you have a whole wardrobe full of clothes.”

You retreat out of your clothes for a moment to adjust a few hangers before submerging yourself in them again. “Gee, really?”

“Y/N can’t find anything suitable to wear,” Jeonghan says helpfully. “Apparently nothing will fit with the ‘vibes’ of the night that you’ve planned.”

“Okay,” Hansol says, and he sounds like he’s laughing a little. A hand wraps around your waist and the other grabs your shoulder, hauling you out of your wardrobe and pulling you against a warm back. 

You yelp in surprise, trying to squirm out of Hansol’s hold, but his hand just tightens more securely around your waist, pressing his cheek against the side of your head, keeping you in his arms. He’s warm, and steady, so after a few moments you cease your struggling, cheeks heating up as you slump in his arms.

“I think you’re stressing over this too much,” he says, and his voice is a calm rumble in your ear, all soft and affectionate and you can see Jeonghan pointedly avoiding his gaze and staring intensely at the intricate dust formations behind your door. “It’s nothing special, I promise.”

“Nothing special?” you repeat. You have half a mind to get all worked up over this, but Hansol is draped all over you like a comforting, weighted blanket, so you don’t. “Hansol, it’s our three-year anniversary. You even told me that it was gonna be something special.”

He chuckles, then, releasing you and turning you around so you’re face to face, his hands finding yours and grasping your fingers.

“Okay. It’s not actually all that special. Remember the park? Where we first met?”

You slowly nod your head. Of course you remember that park.

Five years ago, on a late Wednesday afternoon, you and Jeonghan had been wandering through the streets, with him essentially dragging you outside after you’d called him after a small fit of hyperventilation over your dreaded finals. It was chilly, and you hadn’t brought a coat, complaining to Jeonghan the entire time (the man didn’t even like walks himself, how dare he make you go on one too) before you’d come at a park, hands waving animatedly as you talked.

And then, you’d tripped over a tree root, bumping against a stranger also walking through the park, who managed to catch you with lightning-fast reflexes, and you had stared, dumbfounded up at him for all of five seconds before fainting in his arms.

And of course, Jeonghan had found a way to capture the whole fiasco on his phone.

“You mean the park where I bumped into you and promptly fell into you?” you say, and Jeonghan, still studying the dust, gives a snort.

“You fell for him, Y/N.”

“I fell into him, actually,” you say in Jeonghan’s direction, never able to resist his teasing. “I didn’t fall for him.”

Jeonghan grins at you, mischievous, at where you’re still holding Hansol’s hands. “I dunno. Evidence suggests otherwise.”

Hansol laughs at that, kissing the top of your head before you can get any more riled up. “Yeah, the park where you fell for me,” he says, and somehow, when he’s the one to say it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad. “I was hoping to take you there for a late-night picnic. Electric candles, cakes, sparklers, that sort of stuff.”

You blink rapidly, before your heart melts and you smile, touched. “Oh my god, you’re literally the best boyfriend ever.”

Hansol laughs as you launch yourself into his arms, fingers curling securely into the back of your shirt. “I should hope so,” he says. “I’m kinda hoping to be your boyfriend for many years to come.”

His smile is warm, shy, as he looks at you all soft and adoring like you’re something precious to him, and it makes you smile in return, a little light-headed and dizzy at how much adoration there is in your boyfriend’s gaze.

“Well, you will, especially if you keep this up,” you say, with a bright smile and a kiss to his cheek before turning back to your wardrobe. “But still. What should I wear? Wait, what about this?”

You dig inside your wardrobe and then pull out a piece of clothing with a particularly hard tug, before promptly losing your balance, tilting backwards and falling, falling—

Right into Hansol’s arms.

“Hello,” he says after a moment. “Looks like you’ve fallen for me. Again.”

Jeonghan laughs and claps his hands, his pride in Hansol’s quip evident, and it’s the cheesiest and most randomly-placed pickup line that your boyfriend could have ever said, but you’re rolling your eyes and turning around in his arms, giving in to this ridiculous, adorable scenario, dropping the clothes so you can cradle his face in your hands.

“I’m gonna fall for you again and again, as long as we live,” you say, and then pull him in for a kiss.

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: wonwoo + bitter

alternative title: the taste of your name on my lips

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

genre: non-idols au, angst, fluff, getting back together-ish

word count: 1954

warnings: none

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 @blue-jisungs @yonabutnotyuna

Winter, Wonwoo has decided, has a rather distinctively bitter taste.

No, actually. Perhaps it's not winter itself that is bitter, but a winter spent without you. Like chewing on the rind of a lemon, leaving his tongue tingling and feeling distinctly wrong, tasting something that makes his nose wrinkle when he had expected it to be a sweet, sharp citrus. 

It's how he feels right now, the biting scents of winter sitting uncomfortably in his mouth as he breathes in and breathes out, the mist swirling a ghostly grey around him. It's cold, even more so than he anticipated, especially without you by his side. 

He watches as Mingyu flails around on the ice rink, as Seungcheol grabs onto Seokmin before they both fall over almost instantly, and he wants to laugh, wants to react in the way that he normally would, but everything feels… well, it just feels wrong. 

His ears are ringing with the scrape of metal on ice, sharp and scratchy and like nails dragging down blackboard. It's jarring, making him wince, and icicles spring up on his tongue, and everything simply hurts. 

"Wonwoo-ya," a voice says softly, but Wonwoo can hardly even hear it. Joshua is watching him, the warmth radiating off him in waves, but Wonwoo is dry ice, frozen nitrogen, incinerating all warmth that attempts to get close. "Are you okay?"

Wonwoo just shrugs, gloved fingers gripping unfeelingly against the edges of the rink as he and Joshua stand on the outside, watching the others slip and slide over each other.

Joshua rests a hand on his arm, and Wonwoo knows it's meant to be comforting, like a hot water bottle pressed to his side, but he's so cold that he feels nothing. Joshua's touch is a drop of hot water, sizzling and evaporating away into nothing the second it touches ice. It makes Wonwoo wince again, tongue tingling with tastes of dark chocolate and glass shattering on the floor and cold steel pressed to the back of a neck. 

Joshua retracts his hand, burying his face into his scarf, and he's looking at Wonwoo so sadly, like he knows all the sounds and sensations that Wonwoo is tasting in his mouth, and he pities him for having to feel such things. 

Wonwoo doesn't think he deserves that pity, really. 

It's his fault you're not here. His fault that winter has turned bitter, has decided to punish him for his actions. 

"Y/N probably misses you too," Joshua says quietly, and just for a moment his words sound like crystal chimes before they crack and shatter against Wonwoo's teeth as he inhales. "I bet you're missing each other in equal amounts."

"I don't know," Wonwoo says, and it's a shaky exhale of words, smoky with regret, winding around his neck and suffocating him. "I don't think Y/— I don't think they'd miss me."

Your name had almost slipped his lips, but he'd reeled it back at the last moment, not wanting the cherry blossom softness of your name to be tainted by the sticky tar that floods his mouth. 

Joshua tilts his head, and his eyes are glittering, looking both soft and sharp in the way that only he can, like he's comforting and laughing at Wonwoo at the same time. Wonwoo looks back, finding the gentleness in Joshua's gaze almost too sugary sweet to look at, after his mouth and his tongue has been frozen numb by the dark, person-shaped hole in his life. 

And then Joshua smiles, before looking away. "You haven't asked Y/N though, have you? You don't know if you don't ask."

Wonwoo wants to protest, say that of course you don't want to see him, not after what had happened the last time you'd seen each other. But the memory stings his eyes, almost unbearably sour, and he looks down. 

"You need to stop running away, Wonwoo," Joshua says, softly. "Don't you think it's time to finally stop and look at what's around you?"

His words are directed at Wonwoo, but Joshua's gaze slides away from his, looking at something at his left shoulder, and the bitterness on Wonwoo's tongue deepens, pricking his teeth and numbing the roof of his mouth with fear. He knows who's behind him without even having to look, but as he turns around and sees you, nose tipped with cold, it makes his heart squeeze uncomfortably in his throat. 

"Hi," you say, voice small, rattling around like marbles in the air between you. "Joshua… Joshua told me to come out this evening. I didn't know I'd bump into you."

Joshua? Wonwoo turns back, planning to attempt a glare at the man who'd orchestrated all of this, but Joshua had disappeared out onto the rink, an elusive whirlwind of sugar granules and hail, helping up Seokmin and laughing at Seungcheol as if he'd never left, as if he'd never been standing at Wonwoo's side. 

"Sorry," Wonwoo manages, and his own voice sounds wrong in his head, all burnt and frozen at the same time. "He's… like that."

You laugh softly, and while the noise would have normally have soothed over the cuts on his tongue, this time it only serves to carve deeper into them, the metallic taste licking against his teeth, pained by the sorrow in your laugh. 

"That's okay. It's not your fault."

The words make him flinch, and your eyes widen before icing over, and suddenly you've become unreachable to him, unreachable in your thistle prickling of awkwardness. 

"Sorry," you say, biting your lip, and for some reason Wonwoo can feel his own lips bruising at the action. "That was…" You pause. "Sorry. I should go."

And then you're turning on your heel, stiff, like a wooden doll, an abandoned toy next to the Nutcracker under the Christmas tree, and Wonwoo's heart squeezes in his throat as he thinks how he can't lose you, please, he just can't. 

"Y/N."

The sound of your name in his voice rings in the air, curling with the white smoke of his exhale, but it's warm. Your name is always golden on his lips, polished and priceless and beautiful, and as you turn back to look at him, eyes shining even in the darkness, he can taste that preciousness melting on his tongue, melting into the bitter of his loneliness. 

He opens his mouth, then closes it again when he realizes he has nothing else to say. The urge to say "don't worry about it", to ignore what he'd just said, is tempting on his tongue, a slimy eel string of words that will slide out of his mouth so easily. 

But he pushes it down, swallows it away, licking at his lips and fighting the want to grimace at the oily blackness that still lingers in his mouth. 

"It's all my fault," he says eventually, and the words grate against his tongue, shaved ice particles of fear and guilt, turning the inside of his mouth cold with the sudden taste of mint as he bites down on his feelings. "It really is, and I'm so sorry."

Your eyes widen, and he knows you're going to deny it, try to remove some of the blame off his shoulders, but it's been weighing there for days, rough rock that fills his mouth with chalk dust whenever he thinks about it. But it's deserved, and he knows it, and you know it, and if Wonwoo wants to fully get rid of this bitterness and ask for forgiveness once and for all, then it's essential he apologises through the ice and the oil and the chalk. 

It's a horrible combination, tasting dark and remorseful in his mouth, sticking to his teeth, but it's of his own making. 

"I'm sorry," he says, genuinely, an icy riverwater of words. "You—you were waiting for me to do something, to show I cared, but I was… I was just so scared of how I felt. How you made me feel."

"Won—"

"Please," he says, and the sticky honey texture of the word makes his voice thick, and he swallows. "Please. It's okay. I know where I went wrong, and I'm so sorry. It's just—I was really scared, and it's not your fault, it's all because of me, because you were nothing but patient, nothing but kind and I just took that for granted. You were always by my side, and I never thought about how you would feel, never thought about how my silence and my inability to explain what you mean to me would affect you. It's my fault, it really is, just like you said, and I'm sorry."

And then the words keep coming, building up more, more, more, like a snowball rolling down a hill that's growing with every syllable. But he can't stop, won't, not when his teeth are still sunk in bitter rind and everything feels horribly wrong and damnit, he's lonely, he misses you, and he doesn't want you to think that he doesn't need you anymore. 

Because he always has. Always, more perhaps than anything else in the world. 

"I know why you were upset. I understand, I really do, because these past few weeks have showed me that you mean the utter world to me, Y/N," Wonwoo says, earnestly. There's no more chalk in his mouth, no more oil, but the ice is still there, making his words slip and slide and tumble out without a second thought. But it's necessary, and Wonwoo lets the words fall, leaving his mouth as delicate, frozen snowflakes. "You are… you are everything. I mean it."

You stare at him, and he can't tell if you're blinking rapidly due to the cold or due to what he's said, but he swallows again, bites his lip, tongue feeling numbed to the bitterness in his mouth. 

"I love you," he says, suddenly, and it was entirely unexpected but it feels right. "I love you, Y/N. More than you can possibly ever know. I know I messed up, and I know I might not have showed you just how much I love you, but I do. And, if you'll let me… I'd be willing to prove my love to you. For a thousand lifetimes."

You don't say anything to that, stunned, and Wonwoo feels his heart sink, feels the uncomfortable, waxy texture of lemon skin slipping against his teeth, and his entire frame freezes. 

But then you're laughing, eyes bright, glittering like a thousand stars as you step forward to throw your arms around him, and finally the bitterness in his mouth melts away, rose sweet. 

"God, Wonwoo," you breathe, and it sounds like spun sugar, delicate and beautiful and melting in his mouth. "Oh, my god. I was— Shua dragged me out here, but then I saw you and—and I was going to say I forgive you. Because I get it. I understand it's hard to express emotions sometimes, and I was going to say—I'm sorry for pushing you, that was wrong of me, but then—then you said this?"

"It's true," Wonwoo says simply, holding you tight, gloved fingers wrinkling into your coat, but he can feel the warmth radiating off of you anyways, a caramelised kind of golden taste that has him buzzing. "I love you."

You bury your face into his scarf, making a sound so happy that Wonwoo can feel the whoosh of cherry blossom-pink as it swirls so sweetly in his mouth. "Say it again."

The words are golden soft on his tongue, and he wonders why he took so long to say them. To say them to you. He smiles, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

"I love you."

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: dino + swingset

alternative title: stupid adorable grin

pairing: chan x gn!reader

genre: non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers

word count: 1435

warnings: none

event taglist: @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 (also @leejungchans pspspsps)

It's been so long since you've last seen your best friend. 

You still live in the same area, but college pulled you apart, with you both travelling and having to dorm in different universities away from your home town, and it's broken your heart to be so far from him for so long. 

So now, now you're finally on summer break, and the only thing you want to do is see his face break into that stupid grin whenever he sees you once again. 

"Chan! Lee Chan! Turn around, you brat, I'm right here!" 

Chan turns around in circles, phone up to his ear, looking for you confusedly. And then he spots you, running down the street towards him, and his face lights up in that stupid, stupid, adorable beam that makes you smile even wider and run faster until you fall into his arms, open and ready to catch you. 

He spins you around in his arms, and wow when did he get strong enough to do that? Your phone is dangling in your hand, the call still connected to his number because you'd been too busy to disconnect, and all you can do is hug him tighter and yelp and laugh as your feet leave the floor. 

"Oh my god," you breathe once he sets you down, not giving him a chance to talk. "Oh my god, I missed you so much."

"You missed me?" Chan says in disbelief. "Y/N, there's no way you missed me more than I missed you."

"What?" You cross your arms, frowning. "Never! I bet I missed you more."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

You frown at each other, matching expressions of annoyance on your faces, before eventually cracking, laughing and falling instantly into one another in a hug again. 

"It feels like it's been forever since I've last seen you," Chan says, and that smile is still on his face, that bright, loving smile that makes your heart feel like it's going to burst. "You have to tell me everything that's happened since I last saw you."

"What, everything?" you say teasingly as he pushes open the playground gate, gesturing for you to walk in first. "Chan, I'm pretty sure I told you everything there is to know during our weekly facetimes."

He just laughs. "Well, I want to hear it again. In person, this time," he adds. "I like hearing you talk."

And, well, who are you to refuse? 

The playground has been a sort of… cornerstone of your friendship, for you two. It was where you first met. It was where your friendship almost fell apart. It was where you met up, again and again, where you came to spend time away from the rest of the world, together or by yourselves. 

It was also where you realised you were in love with your best friend. 

The realisation had hit you, years ago, while chatting on the very same swingset the two of you were sitting on right now. It had shocked you, then, but only for a little while before the shock had faded away. Loving Chan was easy, as easy as breathing. Loving Chan was as obvious and inexplicable as the spark of light that fizzled in your chest. 

"—almost died in her exam, but I did it anyway," you finish proudly. Chan watches you the entire time, that grin having never left his face, eyes wide as he listens to you intently. 

"Oh, well done," he says, and claps dramatically. You bow your head regally, accepting his applause, and the two of you laugh. "And I expect you did really well on it as well."

You wince. "Okay, since I basically crammed in the two days before the exam and was all loaded up on way too much caffeine, I did… not that well," you say. "But I finished the exam! And I passed! Without killing myself! So I think, all in all, I did really well."

Chan laughs, eyes crinkled, smile big and beaming. "Well, in my eyes, I think you did the best out of the entire world." He ruffles your hair, voice going high-pitched in teasing. "My wonderful Y/N! You did so well, my cutie baby, you deserve all the praise!"

You brush his hand off, pretending to bite his fingers, and Chan just chuckles again. "Yeah, yeah, don't patronise me."

"No, but really," Chan says, laughter dying off, "I know how much you despised that professor. Props to you for getting through her classes. You did really well, I mean it."

His tone is so genuine, so sincere, and all he's doing is telling you something your friends back at uni have been telling you too, but it just feels so much more coming from him. 

Especially when he's looking at you like you were the one to hung all the stars in the universe. 

You duck your head, making a pfft-ing sound. "Oh, it's nothing. That old cow is just no match for the great and wise Y/N, you know?" you say, intending to elicit a laugh from Chan. 

But he just smiles, tilting his head, and now he's looking at you like you're one of the brightest stars in the universe. 

Damn this man and your stupid crush on him. 

And then he tweaks your nose so hard that you squeak. 

"Hey! What was that for?"

"My congratulations," Chan says, eyes wide in faux-innocence. "I was congratulating you!"

You eye him annoyedly, rubbing your nose. "Uh huh." You hold onto the chains of your swing, swaying backwards and forwards. "Anyway, that's all that's been happening on my end since we last spoke. How about you? Anything interesting happen that you haven't told me about through our numerous calls?"

Chan's smile turns a little secretive at that, something soft and mildly mischievous. "Maybe."

Your eyes widen. "Oh? Tell me, tell me!"

"Well," Chan begins, and he looks up at the sky thoughtfully. "I kind of realised that I…like someone."

And instantly your heart is swooping down towards the ground, crash-landing in a heap on the tarmac floor of the playground. "Really?"

"In fact, I think I'm in love with them," Chan continues, and now your heart is trying to burrow down through the ground into the centre of the earth. "I think I've been in love with them for a while. They're just so, so, sweet, so lively and bright and they make my days so much better." He laughs, tugging at his lips. "I just know that I get the stupidest, biggest grin on my face every time I see them."

"That's… nice," you choke out. Your heart has given up burrowing all the way to the centre of the earth and is just lying in a pathetic heap in the shallow hole it managed to dig. Maybe it can be its grave. "Do I know them?"

"Oh yeah!" Chan grins. "You know them really well!"

Well. Who else has Chan been talking to that you know really well?

You swallow. "Who… is it?"

Chan turns to face you now, and he has that stupidly adorable grin on his face, his expression lit up like a thousand suns, and there's so much love and gentleness in his expression that your heart perks up, thinking maybe, maybe, maybe… 

"It's you," he says, and your heart is soaring again like it hadn't dug its own grave a few seconds prior. "I like you, Y/N."

You blink, astounded, and your heart is chirruping happily and your head is spinning and oh God, Chan likes you. 

You're so at a loss for words that you don't say anything for several seconds, and Chan's grin falters. 

"Y/N? Sorry, that was probably really sudden to spring on you. Oh, no, do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll take it back—"

And then you're launching yourself at him, in a clash of metal chains and knees and elbows, hugging him with all your might. 

"Don't you dare take it back," you warn, and he laughs, adjusting you so you're more comfortable in his arms, hands securely wrapped around your back. 

"Does this mean you like me too?" he asks, wow, wow you still can't believe he likes you. 

"Of course, you dumbass," you say, hugging him tighter.

He laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. And then, after a moment: "Y/N, you gotta say it back."

"Say what back?"

"Say you like me too!"

"Oh. Me too."

"No, say it properly."

"Fine, fine. I like you too."

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: seungkwan + blossoms

alternative title: this is what healing is

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader

genre: canon universe, established relationship, comfort-ish

word count: 1285

warnings: none

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @weird-bookworm @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 (and @wheeboo cz. it's seungkwan)

"Y/N! Come on, we can't slow down now, we're almost there!"

"And where," you pant, "is 'almost there', Seungkwan? Almost there to my death?"

Seungkwan smiles, and it's not his brilliant, heart-bursting smile but it's close enough. "You shouldn't have offered to take me out hiking, love," he says teasingly, from where he's standing on the path further up. "You gotta deal with the consequences."

You groan, pulling yourself up with your hiking poles along the dirt path. "Yeah, next time I'll just offer to pay for a full spa day for you. That'll be way easier than this torture I accidentally signed up for."

Seungkwan chuckles, continuing to hike up the mountainside while you groan and complain and sweat to death behind him. 

Your boyfriend loves nature. He loves being surrounded by it, feeling humbled by the vast everlastingness of the earth, feeling part of the unending beauty of the world and the countless lives of animals and plants that he has the privilege of living alongside. It relaxes him, brings him peace, allows his soul to settle more comfortably in his body once he's able to see that he's important, that he matters, that nature is there for him and surrounds him and he is at once a part of it and forever under its power the entire time. 

It's a complex combination of feeling humility at nature's capability and feeling comfort at being in her care, but you get it. You understand Seungkwan. 

That's why you offered him a healing day out trekking up some of South Korea's most idyllic mountains, after all. 

You're kind of regretting agreeing to come along, though. 

Well, almost. 

"Y/N, I swear, we're almost there this time," Seungkwan insists when you wail about your legs again. He's standing at a curve in the path you're following, which isn't really much of a path but more of a wobbly line of soil where the ground has been worn down just a little more than the rest of the undergrowth surrounding you. 

"What, almost to the top?" you manage to say. Wow, you need to exercise more. 

Seungkwan shakes his head. "No, we're almost at a rest point though! There's a fallen tree we can sit on."

"A fallen tree," you deadpan, crunching through leaves. "We're almost at a fallen tree."

Seungkwan wrinkles his nose playfully at your tone. "Yes. A fallen tree. But I'm really, really certain that we've almost reached the summit, if you wanna forgo a break and carry on…?"

"No, no, let's take a break," you say hurriedly, hobbling up the remaining stretch to find the fallen tree he was talking about and flopping down. "Ah, that's better."

There's a peaceful silence then, as you drink your water and Seungkwan tilts his head back, revelling in the quiet that comes with being so, so far away from other people. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and fight the urge to grin widely. 

This is the one, sole reason that you don't regret coming on this trip. 

He has his eyes closed, the sunlight peeking through the green leaves of the trees and casting an uneven glow across his face, one cheek, half of his forehead, the tip of his nose and small spatterings of his eyelids lit up in gold. He looks like he's been blessed all over by some sun deity, but nothing can top the utterly content look on his face. 

Seungkwan hasn't been feeling himself lately, and you get it, with all that's been going on for him. He's been doing so well, and you tell him so, but sometimes those words aren't enough. Sometimes he just needs time to distance himself, to heal without having the reminders of his pain and struggles hitting him in the face. 

Somewhere in the distance, a bird chirps, and Seungkwan opens his eyes. 

"Don't you think that the day sky is so beautiful?" he says, contemplatively, squinting through the forest canopy. 

You look up with him, squinting your eyes. "The day sky?" you echo. 

He shrugs. "Yeah. Everyone always talks about the night sky, and yet no one seems to mention how pretty the sky is during the day."

You tilt your head, watching as faint wisps of white clouds drift by, in between the green leaves and up there in the brilliant blueness of the sky. 

"The moon is really, really beautiful," you say, "but I guess we never do think about how pretty the sun is too."

"The moon will forever be beautiful," Seungkwan agrees, voice softening, "but there's beauty in the day as well. There's so much light. So much vibrancy. So much potential for living."

You smile, lowering your head to look over at Seungkwan. He still has his head tilted upwards, so far up that you can't see his eyes. But after a moment, he squeezes his eyes shut and looks at you with a smile. It's a sad smile, but there's relief there, a happiness that comes from having the time to be with such refreshing scenery and his thoughts and with you. 

His eyes crinkle as he leans forward to press a kiss to your nose. "You know I love you, right?"

You hum, placing your hand on his cheek to keep him in place and quickly kiss his forehead. His skin is clammy with sweat, your hand warm on his equally warm cheek, but the softness in his eyes makes everything else rendered irrelevant. 

"I should hope so," you say drily after pulling away. "I'm here, suffering with you right now. I'm currently loving you too damn much for you not to love me back."

Seungkwan laughs at that, a ringing bell sound that sounds so much like his usual self that it makes you laugh too. 

"Well, thank you for loving me that much," he says, and it's teasing, but there are rosy warm threads of sincerity to his words. "Thank you, oh noble Y/N, for putting up with me."

"Any time," you say, and you can recognise that warm sincerity in your own voice too. "I'll do anything for you."

Seungkwan smiles. 

A wind blows around you, blessedly cool, and you sigh in happiness. Sometimes small and cold sticks to your forehead, and you dislodge it to gawk at the small blossom petal that managed to stick to your sweaty skin. 

"Kwan, look at this petal that stuck to me," you say, turning to your boyfriend, only to laugh at the way he has two on his cheek, seemingly going unnoticed by him.

"What? Why are you laughing?"

"You had a little something on your face, babe," you say, taking off the petals and showing them to him. Seungkwan blinks down at them before chuckling and shaking his head. 

"There must be cherry blossom trees further up ahead," he said, watching as more pale pink petals float around you.

You hum thoughtfully, staring at the little blossom petals. "Blossoms represent growth, you know," you say. "And new beginnings. They symbolise a better tomorrow."

Seungkwan tilts his head. "Really?" He's silent for a moment, before standing up. "Well, we better get going, I think. I want to see this blossom tree at the summit, now that we know it's there."

Instantly, you're groaning, and Seungkwan laughs as he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, teasing you the entire way. But he doesn't let go of your hand, and the two of you walk leisurely up the mountain, skin all sun-dappled and with blossoms in your hair as you make your way to the top and to that blossom tree. 

All the way to a better tomorrow. 

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: jeonghan + jellyfish

vote for this fic in the poll!

alternative title: down here in the deep blue sea

pairing: siren prince!jeonghan x selkie!gn!reader

genre: mythical au, siren au, friends to lovers

word count: 1130

warnings: none

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @my-moarmy-heart @hannyoontify @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10

The bottom of the ocean is dark and cold and unpleasant. There is little light, and the creatures that live here are fierce, hardened by the harsh environment they’ve evolved to survive in. Here in his palace, Jeonghan is shielded from the worst of it, but even he understands that the never-ending abyss that makes up his family’s kingdom is nothing like the glittering, lively seas that their distant mermaid cousins live in.

But it’s all that Jeonghan has ever known.

That is, until he met you.

“Jeonghan! Jeonghan, Jeonghan, I’m here!”

Jeonghan doesn't have time to look up before a selkie comes crashing into him, all sleek, soft fur and big eyes. He laughs, because he's used to this by now, and pushes away your head slightly so that you're not squishing your cheek against his. 

"Get away from me, you rascal, you're going to mess up my hair," he says, but he's smiling, and you beam at him in return, all twinkling irises and bubbling laughter. 

"Yeah, yeah, it's gonna get messed up anyway," you say, ruffling his hair just to prove your point. "Anyway. Ready to go?"

Jeonghan cocks his head, smiling. "Maybe. Where are we going this time?"

You tap your lips secretively. "It's a secret. You ready to come or not?"

He rolls his eyes, pretending to give a long-suffering sigh. "Alright. Let's go." He looks around the darkened sea garden, peering into the bushes. "Shua!"

Another siren pops his head up above a cluster of bioluminescent sea flowers. "Yes, sire?"

"I'm gonna leave," Jeonghan says, pointing to you. "Y/N's taking me hostage. Don't expect me back until at least supper time."

Joshua crosses his arms and swims towards where you and Jeonghan are sitting. "Jeonghan, I can't keep covering for you forever," he protests. "I think there are only so many times I can pretend you got lost in the Royal Seaweed Maze before someone realises I'm lying about the Crown Prince's whereabouts."

"Then just this one last time, Shuji," Jeonghan says easily, grinning. "I'll bring you along next time Y/N and I go somewhere. How about that?"

Joshua wrinkles his nose, the scales on his cheeks glowing neon pink in the light of the flowers. "Hmph. Just go. Tomorrow, I'm resigning as your personal guard."

"You do that," Jeonghan says with a smile,  because they both know that Joshua would never leave him. "See you tonight, Shua!"

"Yes!" you cheer. "Let's go!" You ruffle Joshua's hair in consolation before grabbing Jeonghan's hand, sending a bright grin over to the siren prince and then swimming upwards, up, up, away from the kingdom down in the abyss. 

———————————— 🪼

"Are you really not going to tell me where we're going?"

You look over at Jeonghan, whiskers twitching, and reply with a chirrup, bubbles escaping your mouth. 

He sighs at you, smiling, flicking his tail and swimming faster so he's beside you. You slap at him with a seal flipper when he attempts to poke your cheek, making more seal noises before he laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. 

"Okay, okay. But seriously, where are we going?"

You morph out of your seal form into one that's slightly more conversation-able, the faintest whiskers still on your cheeks and the sleekness of your selkie fur blending into something resembling human skin. You grin, and point upwards. "Not a where. A what."

Jeonghan looks up, and his eyes widen. 

You've led him so far away from the depths of the ocean, and with just a few miles of swimming he'd be able to break the surface of the water. But that's not what he's looking at. 

Above you both, there's a swarm of transparent, floaty things, tinted in pretty pinks and oranges with what looks like long, thin threads dancing in the movement of the sea. 

"We're here to see the jellyfish," you say, and he mouths the word to himself in wonder. 

He watches as the jellyfish bob around, following the movement of the current. They look almost like mysterious spirits, with elusive purposes and elusive aims and elusive goals. 

It's fascinating.

Their transparent bodies filter the rays of sunlight right through them, and it's a kind of glittering, crystalline wonder that Jeonghan has never been able to see before in the near-pitch black darkness of his kingdom. He finds himself awed, unable to take his eyes away even as you take his hand and draw him closer to the shoal. 

"Jellyfish have no brains, no hearts, bones, or eyes," you say. 

"Aw. That's actually really sad," Jeonghan says. "Imagine not having a heart." He pauses. "Oh, and no brain, too."

You smile. 

"They're actually mostly made of fluid and transparent muscles, which are the bell parts that you can see," you carry on, pointing to one jellyfish. "And these thin tentacles? They help the jellyfish catch their prey."

"How do they eat?" Jeonghan asks, confused. 

"They trap their prey in their tentacles, and then eat through the opening in the middle of their bell body," you say. "See? It's like their mouth is in the center."

"Huh."

"Do you wanna touch them? They're dangerous for humans, apparently, but I found out that they're pretty much harmless for us to touch."

Before you came into his life, Jeonghan lived almost entirely within the walls of his palace, surrounded by darkness, knowing and going no further than the surrounding cities. It was a miserable existence, to always be held on a leash, unable to stretch his fins and breathe in new water into his gills. 

But then came you. You stumbled into the palace gardens one day, all twitching whiskers and bright selkie eyes and a smile and an outstetched hand that promised new, bright, wonderful, fascinating. 

Jeonghan had grown up being told not to take risks, but taking your hand? 

That felt like coming home. 

You come to him randomly, with new facts and new adventures and every day he's with you feels like living a new life, witnessing the shimmer of aquamarine seas and vibrant coral reefs with his own eyes. It's exhilarating, makes the blood in Jeonghan's veins sing. And listening to your voice, filled with such eagerness and fondness, is more mesmerising than any siren song that even his father could conjure. 

"—not actually fish, you know? And they're pretty much harmless. Okay, maybe not totally harmless, but they don't bother you if you don't bother them."

You pause, then, because one jellyfish chooses that moment to bob upwards in a swirl of translucent jelly right into your face, and you scrunch your nose with a barking laugh. 

Jeonghan watches you, the smile widening on his face, before he pauses. 

Oh. 

He might be just a tiny bit in love with you. 

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: joshua + serendipity

alternative title: you, me, and this vast universe

pairing: joshua x gn!reader

genre: sci-fi au, dystopian au, strangers to lovers

word count: 1400

warnings: smoke inhalation, toxic chemicals mention, loss of oxygen mention

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @my-moarmy-heart @hannyoontify @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice

“Warning: engine overheating. Warning: foreign objects detected. Warning: autopilot forcibly disengaged. Warning—”

“Yes, yes, I know, everything’s going wrong!” you huff, wiping your face against your arm. “Come on, darling, just hang in there, will you?”

You’re in the engine room, trying desperately to fix the damage that the latest interaction with the Galactic Officers had caused. You've been on the run for most of your life, and yet the Galactic Officers, morons that they are, never seem to get the message that you refuse to let yourself get arrested. And anyway, what self-respecting law-enforcing group called themselves the ‘Galactic Officers’?

The engine clunks ominously, and your entire spacecraft tilts dangerously to the right. One of the previous warning messages flashes through your mind.

“Ah, stars! The autopilot settings!”

You scramble out of the room and up into the cockpit, wrenching at the handheld control lever, attempting to correct the ship’s course. 

“Warning: onboard oxygen failure. Evacuate the spacecraft. Warning: onboard oxygen failure. Evacuate the spacecraft. Warning: onboard oxygen failure. Evacuate the spacecraft."

Gritting your teeth, you steel yourself against the console, both hands still on the lever even as it resists your hold, shaking and shuddering with the rest of your failing ship. There are tears building up in your eyes, and it has nothing to do with the sudden, acrid smell of chemicals permeating the spacecraft.

“Come on, Nabi, do this for me,” you manage to say, even as she burns around you, falling to pieces. But you can’t let her go without at least trying to fight for her. “I—I can’t lose you.”

Somewhere, an oxygen mask falls to the floor, and you bend down to pick it up, holding it over your mouth with one hand and trying to steer your ship with the other. Warning messages echo and bounce off the walls, lights flashing bright red as your ship shudders, creaking and groaning and you want to cry. 

But you're not going to let go. If Nabi dies, you're dying with her. 

It's not like you have any other family left, anyway. 

Suddenly, over the cacophony of warning messages, the cool voice of an information announcement makes you look up. 

"Alert: spacecraft requesting port side docking permission. Grant or deny permission?"

You grit your teeth. You hadn't noticed a ship flying any where near you. What sort of idiot decided to dock at a spacecraft that was obviously about to explode any moment? 

"Permission granted," you yell, giving a yelp when the ship groans again. "If they want to die with me, then who am I to stop them?"

There's a creaking sound, and Nabi shudders again as the new spacecraft connects with yours. You barely pay them any attention. A thought crosses your mind that it might be the Galactic Officers once again, but you can't bring yourself to care. You're dying anyway. They wouldn't be able to tear you off of Nabi if they tried. 

"Oh my god, it's only one person!"

The panicked voice makes you whip around. There, in the port door, is a… boy? 

His eyes are wide, and he's all suited up, but you can see his face, the way his hair falls into his eyes as he frantically gestures towards you. He's pretty, you think faintly. Too bad he's a bit of a fool, as well, considering the fact that he was now most likely going to die with you. 

You stumble a little, grip loosening on the lever and Nabi lists sideways once more. 

"Here! Take my hand!"

Why is the boy still talking to you? His hand is outstretched, the other gripping tight to the door, one foot in your spacecraft and the other in his own. Ah. He must be from the ship that requested docking permission. 

Weird. 

You chuckle a little. The lack of oxygen is getting to you. 

"Please!" The boy's voice is desperate now. "Please, let me save you! You don't have to die!"

Why is he so worried about you?

You shake your head, trying to show that you're going down with Nabi. Or maybe you only think you shake your head. 

"Come to me! Please! You're—you're going to die!"

Holy shit, he's right. You're going to die. You're dying. Your eyes widen. Somewhere, one of Nabi's panels crash to the floor, and out of the cockpit window you can see the smoke billowing around you as she burns apart. 

The stars are floating in the edges of your vision, and everything has gone all woozy. Definitely lack of oxygen, you think, just barely, before finally you keel over and the world goes black. 

———————————— 🛰

You’re blinked out of your reverie by a steady hand resting against your shoulder, and you look up to see Joshua smiling down at you.

“Hey.”

You smile back at him, patting the empty space on the metal floor next to you. “Hey.”

He lowers himself down to the floor, knees up to his chest, back against the wall, tilting his head. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Too many thoughts,” you reply, staring down the hallway of the spacecraft. It’s the middle of the night, and all the lights have been shut off, but the soft glow of the purple emergency lights lining the halls remain. 

Joshua nods in acknowledgment. “Jeonghan’s just fallen asleep. Cheol is wandering around somewhere, though,” he says, waving a hand. “He’s not in the cockpit, so he’s probably raiding the pantry, I think.”

The image makes your lips tug up into another smile.

There’s silence, then, the both of you sitting on the floor in one of the spacecraft’s hallways, the quiet hum of machinery surrounding you. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine that you're back on your own ship, Nabi humming with life all around you. 

You open your eyes and look over at Joshua, who looks back at you, eyes warm. 

It's been twelve months since Nabi passed. Joshua, the boy who saved you, had taken you aboard his own ship, the ship he shared with two others. You’d been horribly injured and horribly disoriented, and it was only through the careful medical care from Jeonghan and the reassured smiles from Seungcheol and the warm, ever-comforting presence of Joshua that you managed to salvage the wreck that had been your emotions and your life.

They've been nothing but accepting of you, and you feel as if you could have a place here. A family, almost. A family after Nabi. 

Joshua nudges with you with his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Penny for your thoughts?”

"It's almost a year since my ship exploded."

Joshua’s eyes widen and soften at the same time. It’s a fascinating ability of his, the way he can look so surprised and gentle all at once. 

“Stars, you’re right,” he says, and even his voice is soft. “How… how are you feeling?”

You chuckle softly. "Not good, if I’m being honest. She was… well, she was my everything. I don't think there will be a day where I don't mourn her."

"I'm sorry." Joshua looks sorry, like it was his fault that Nabi no longer exists. The expression of regret on his face makes something tug in your heart, and you shake your head. 

"Gosh, there's no need to feel sorry," you say quickly. "It's not your fault. In fact, you're kind of the reason I'm still here, you know?" A smile quirks up the corner of your lips. "You're the one who saved me. My angel, almost."

Joshua smiles, then, and you can't mistake the pink that dusts his cheeks. 

"In this vast, endless universe, I managed to find you," he says, and leans forward to pinch your cheek affectionately. "It's almost like the cosmos moved for us to make this impossibility possible."

You smile, leaning into his hand as his palm softens against your skin, cupping your cheek. You're still not sure what he means to you, or what you mean to him, but for now you feel safe. As if… 

"You're my serendipity," you say, quietly. "The safe haven I found in the middle of a catastrophe. My serendipity."

Joshua's smile brightens and softens at the same time, and his thumb brushes against your cheekbone. 

"Just as you are mine," he says, heart-flutteringly warm. He leans forward, then, pressing a kiss to your nose. "Don't worry, my Y/N," he whispers. "Just let me love you."

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: woozi + food

alternative title: apples and pink "i love you"s

pairing: woozi x gn!reader

genre: non-idols au, exams, established relationship

word count: 1071

warnings: food mention

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @my-moarmy-heart @hannyoontify @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @ylliris-hanniehae @hopetiger10

You receive the first container of food when there are ten days left until you have to take your exam. 

Well, okay. It's not a container of food, per se, and more of your shared emptied-out fruit bowl with a sole apple and a post-it note slapped onto it, but it makes you smile and laugh all the same. 

It all started earlier that day, while you were locked away in your room, in the middle of completing a practice paper for your revision. 

There's a knock at your door and, after a moment of silence, the doorknob turns and a head peers into your room, squinting at you suspiciously. 

"Y/N. Have you eaten yet?"

You hum in acknowledgment at your boyfriend's question, not taking your eyes off the latest set of practice questions you're going through. Jihoon watches you for a moment before opening the door wider, stepping into your room and up to your desk, resting a hand briefly on your shoulder. 

"Y/N," he says again, and his tone is disapproving. He squeezes your shoulder, once, softly. It makes you finally look up before looking away guiltily.

"I… ate a coffee?"

Jihoon tsks, fingers brushing over your shoulder again. "You can't eat a coffee," he points out. "That's not a thing. Love, it's gone noon. Have you had any food today?"

"No, not yet," you admit, and then carry on quickly before the look of disapproval on his face can deepen, "but seriously, I wasn't hungry. And I had my coffee, and you know when I have coffee I end up not wanting to eat for a few hours," you say, gently dislodging his hand from your back. "I'll grab something to eat after I finish this. Promise."

Your boyfriend hums, frowning a little, but he doesn't say anything and just presses a kiss to the top of your forehead. "Alright. Well, I'm gonna be out for the rest of the day. Mingyu wants my help on his assignment and it'll probably take a while."

"Okay." You turn back to your revision once more. "Have fun."

Jihoon's fingers tap against the back of your neck, a silent goodbye and a message to take care of yourself, before he's gone, closing your door behind him with a soft click. 

You don't think too much of the conversation, and an hour later, you leave your room, coffee mug empty and eyes burning with exhaustion. And that's when you see the bright purple thing on the kitchen island, and you blink and tilt your head, warmth spreading through your chest. 

Jihoon has freshly washed the apple, and there are beads of water still slowly evaporating on it. The post-it note is falling off of its side, but you can see your boyfriend's familiar scrawl on it, and you pick it up with a fond smile beginning to widen on your face. 

I didn't believe you when you said you'll eat, so at least have this apple. I'll buy groceries today to make you something nicer tomorrow. - Lee Jihoon

You don't know whether to laugh at the sweet gesture or cry at the fact that he signed his name on the paper. 

"As if it would be anyone else telling me to eat," you mutter to yourself, picking up the apple and taking a bite. 

After finishing it and refilling your coffee, you take the post-it back into your room and place the bright pink paper amongst the mess of your black ink notes. 

———————————— 🍞

The post-its and containers of food carry on. You barely see your boyfriend, him being busy with his own work and you basically living amongst your revision notes, and the only reminder you get of his presence is when he leaves his pink post-it foods everywhere for you to find. 

You don't necessarily have a bad relationship with food. But for you, other things are simply more important than eating.

Like revising for your exams, for example. 

And Jihoon knows this. He gets like this too sometimes, when he's absorbed in his compositions, when he's too busy giving his all to something to take care of himself. 

Jihoon cares, so much, through small gestures and little moments that show just how much he pays attention to you. It's why you fell in love with him in the first place. 

And it's through gestures like this that make you remember just how much you love him, and how much he loves you. 

You have a whole pile of his neon pink notes on your desk now, and sometimes instead of looking over your actual notes you find yourself going through them again, smiling at the amount of support and love emanating from Jihoon's handwriting. 

A part of you never wants your exams to come, nervous for the paper and also wanting Jihoon's notes to go on forever. 

A big, big part of you, however, wants them to be over as quickly as possible. So you can shower your boyfriend with as much love as he deserves, for all that he's done for you. 

The apartment is empty when you finally step out of your room, flashcards in hand, all dressed to leave and take your exam. Jihoon had left earlier that day, but from the multitude of notes practically lining your way to the front door, you can tell how much he wanted to be there for you. 

It makes you laugh, heart warming with love, as you bend down and pick up every single one. They all have messages of "drink water", "have something to eat before the exam", "take a deep breath, everything will be fine" and you find yourself blushing, momentarily forgetting any nerves and worries due to how endearingly sweet his gestures are. 

You stick all the notes together, prepared to put them in your bag and finally get out of the door, before one last note left by the door frame makes you pause. 

"Whatever happens today, just know that I'm cheering you on. I love you. <3"

"Lee Jihoon, you…" you smile down at the note, noting the fact that he's even drawn a little heart at the end. You shake your head, endlessly fond and, clutching the last post-it note, you open the door and step outside. 

Your nerves are steadily coming back, and your heart is still thumping, but somewhere out there, someone's heart is thumping in tandem with yours.