#<500

If there is one thing Jeon Wonwoo loves more than you—and family, and his friends—it has to be gaming. So much so that he manages to convince you to turn the spare study room into his very own little gaming nook, fully equipped with everything a gamer could possibly need to play in peace: large monitor, custom PC, a comfy gaming chair, state-of-the-art headphones—you name it, he already has it set up.

Having you hang out with him in his gaming room is nothing new too. He even added an additional chair so you can comfortably sit next to him whenever you want. It is something you really appreciate; most times, you are content just sitting in each other’s presence while occupied with something else. Too many nights were spent curled up in your chair while reading or scrolling through your phone, the sounds of Wonwoo talking with his friends over Discord, the clicks of his keyboard, and the game’s music serving as familiar white noise.

Wonwoo even develops a habit of wearing only one side of his headphones—just so he can hear if you are talking to him. Nevertheless, you still always make it a point to gently tap on his shoulder for attention, so as to not disrupt his playing.

This time, it takes only an hour since you entered the room for Wonwoo to realise you were in there with him. You gently pry the door open, tiptoeing into the room as quietly as you can. It works: Wonwoo hasn’t registered your presence. He is fully engrossed in the game that’s blown up on his screen, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he strategizes with his teammates over their call.

He only notices you when you tug on his sleeve. Almost immediately, he pushes his chair away, lifting one side of his headphones and opening his arms wide. You shoot him a grateful smile as you climb into his lap. He makes sure you are comfortable straddling him, cheek resting on his shoulder before he pushes the chair back towards the table, resuming his game while hugging you.

You have never been more thankful for Wonwoo’s large arms; they’re long enough to comfortably reach around you for the keyboard without struggle.

Wonwoo is considerate enough of his teammates to move his mic out of the way before addressing you. “Is there something you want to tell me, love?”

“Missed you. I can’t sleep.” Your voice is muffled as you speak into his hoodie.

“Really?” You nod sleepily. Chuckling, he presses a kiss on the crown of your head. “I’ll be a little noisy. Is that okay with you?”

You hum in acknowledgement, but Wonwoo already knows he is losing you to dreamland. “Sleep well, love.”

His teammates online try to mock him by mimicking him in high-pitched voices, but he doesn’t even care. “At least I have a girlfriend, you lonely losers.” It prompts a stifled laugh from his hold, and squeaks of retaliation through the headphones.

Yeah. That shut them up real quick.

for my august smut calendar challenge

Soobin’s wrists are shackled in silver, preventing him from touching anything other than his cock. His back sinks against his lover’s chest as his own heaves up and down in frustration. Yeonjun’s breath grazes against his ear, tickling his lobe but still causing his cock to twitch.

“Come on, baby. I know you can do it,” Yeonjun encourages, his hands on Soobin’s hips with a gentle pinch. “Work a little harder for hyung.”

“Cant,” Soobin whines, the handcuffs making it difficult.

Yeonjun thought it would be a marvelous punishment, and he’s absolutely right. Soobin’s hands are bound in front of him, rendered useless, as his cock can only stand erected in between his forearms. The main objective here, to get off with just his arms, not his hands. He thinks if he were to use his fingers, he could stroke himself but as Yeonjun forces Soobin to curl over his own body with his cock caught in between his cuffed wrists, he feels defeated.

“Hyung…I—seriously, I can’t,” Soobin sobs, on his breaking point when his cock dribbles with precome.

Yeonjun coaxes him with gentle touches. His hands run from Soobin’s hips to his chest where he rolls his thumbs around his nipples. “You can do it, baby, whatever you can. Try, why don’t you?”

Soobin begins to thrash, hips bucking up into his wrists, whatever it takes to feel something.

“I never told you that you couldn’t use your arms, darling.”

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, and slight frustration, Soobin whimpers. He starts to move his hands up and down, finally feeling some tension floating away. It’s not like he’s reaching his climax anytime soon, but at least his cock is being touched. He thought he wasn’t allowed to do anything. But now he pumps himself with his inner arms, desperate to chase the intoxicating sensation.

“That’s it baby, why didn’t you think of that?”

“I didn’t know!” Soobin growls, but it’s more like a baby cheetah’s tiny whine than a full on roar.

divider credit

“i want to do this forever.”

“you want to pick out fruit forever?”

your sudden proclamation stuns minghao, who’s halfway through investigating a mango. he stares at the fruit in his hand, then back at you, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief. you shake your head. casually tearing off a plastic bag, you pick up another mango for inspection before bagging it. 

“no, grocery shopping.”

“…so you want to be a grocery packer?” he’s still not getting it. you don’t blame him, to be honest; at this point, you’re just confusing him with words. he points to the offending bag of garlic in the cart behind you. 

“no offence, baobei. but earlier you confused garlic and shallots.”

“they looked the same!” you huff, smacking his arm. there it is– the pout he loves to tease out of you. “anyways, that’s not what i meant.”

“okay okay, i’m sorry!” minghao laughs, now moving to grab a pack of grapes. he grabs your favourite– the green crunchy kind, not the purple squishy ones. he gently places it into the cart you’re pushing, before moving over to the bakery section. “so, why do you say that?”

you watch him pick up a loaf of bread. “i want to go grocery shopping with you forever.”

he’s by your side again without missing a beat. “grocery shopping only, huh? that sounds awfully boring.” he grins. he knows what you mean, obviously, but refuses to pass up any opportunity to play with you. “forever is a long time. are you sure about it?”

you grin back at him. bumping shoulders, you playfully stick out your tongue at him. 

“yeah. you know how to pick all the good fruits.” 

minghao lets out a faux gasp. a dramatic cry, as he takes over pushing the cart. “is that all i’m good for?!” 

you purse your lips, pretending to think about it. then, you add: “you always remember to pick up my favourite snacks, too.” your eyes form little crescents as you smile cheekily at him. this time, he doesn’t resist the urge to bonk you on the head in retaliation. 

you giggle. whipping out your phone, you scroll through your notes app, checking through the day’s grocery list. minghao peeks over your shoulders, choosing to plant his lips on the crown of your head. you let out a satisfied hum as you pocket your phone again, leaning back into minghao’s chest to look up at him.

“we only need to get eggs, then we can go.” you start walking ahead towards the eggs, pulling on the front of the shopping cart. “do you need anything else, hao?”

he thinks about it for a bit before shaking his head, a gentle smile gracing his face. “i’m all good here.”

“great! let’s go!” 

@bluehoodiewoozi has a prompt wheel. i told her i wanted to break the wheel

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“marry me.” seokmin’s eyes are hopeful as they stare back at your wide ones.

“you’re insane, min.”

and you’re right. seokmin is insane for proposing to you now.

“c’mon. right here, right now. what do we have to lose?”

another meteor flies above your heads. you’re fairly certain the blast would’ve caused ringing in your ears, if your left eardrum hadn’t burst from an earlier explosion. you stumble into his arms from its impact as the giant space rock crashing into the next neighbourhood over. a protective hand pulls you flush against his chest, shielding your head against the sudden dusty winds.

you know you could always trust on seokmin to catch you.

still, his words ring clear in your mind. you push him away with what little strength you have left. your knuckles whiten along with the death grip you have on his shirt. “min, stop with the nonsense!”

for once, ever since the world’s end was announced, seokmin stops smiling. oh, you realise. he’s not joking. “…y/n, please.” he kneels down before you, offering up a ring as he clasps his hands in yours. it’s a flower ring, you note. you noticed he was twisting the poor flower earlier, but you didn’t know it was for this.

ferocious winds whip your hair back, the charred fabric of your shirt flapping in the wind. you try to urge seokmin to stand up, to run away from the oncoming blaze, but he’s still staring up at you with that stupid, dopey smile of his.

“seokmin, get up! we have to go!”

your words fly over him. “please? we can get wonwoo to officiate. hao and gyu can be our flower girls!”

he’s smiling widely at you, but there are tears pooling in his eyes.

“lee seokmin…” your free hand cups his chin. he nuzzles into it, eyes closed with content. your throat tightens up as you choke your next words out. “the world is falling apart.” you sniff. “we can’t–“

“we can! right here, right now…” he scrambles to his feet, this time both his hands enveloping yours. it’s a familiar comfort, how his thumbs rub over your knuckles. they’ve gotten rough with scratches, but your heart tugs at how gentle he’s treating you still. he slides the flower onto your ring finger, and you can’t help but choke back a sob.

he’s right: what more is there to lose? at the very least, you’ll be going out as lee seokmin’s wife; is that so bad? it’s a title you thought you would hold in at least a few more years.

you finally nod, tears falling freely down your face. from the corner of your eye, you spot wonwoo frantically waving at the both of you to run to safety… not that anywhere seemed safe enough anymore. you wear your own toothy grin, the very one seokmin falls in love everyday with, and you give his hands a tight squeeze.

minghao watches you from across the table. from the way your nose twitches, the crinkle of your eyes, to how your eyes flutter shut as you take a whiff of the mug in your hands.

he watches you down the hot chocolate, back shivering from the warmth flowing in. when you let out a content sigh, he tilts his head, observing how your tongue sticks out but fails to lick the whipped cream stuck to your upper lip.

minghao’s not surprised when you finally catch him; he’s not very subtle with his staring. you tilt your head, and he mirrors you in response.

“what?”

“what, what?”

you squint at him. steam is no longer rising from the tea in his hands– that’s how long he’s been blatantly staring at you. minghao merely smirks at you, finally lifting his mug to his lips.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

ahh, minghao thinks. there may not be any steam left, but the tea is still warm enough for his cold body. he shrugs at your question, and your lower lip juts out even more.

you sniffle, raising your mug to your lips again when they get intercepted by minghao’s hand, stretching across the table to wipe away at the top of your lip with his thumb. he licks the cream off his thumb, all while staring straight into your eyes.

silence. it’s a comfortable silence, but you break it soon enough.

“what kind of sick power move…”

it’s at that that minghao bursts into laughter, startling the cafe’s other patrons seated near you both.

“my tea needed a bit of cream.”

“liar. you don’t even drink milk tea.”

<500 | angst | avy’s october writing challenge

“Hi, cutie! You look a lot like my Seokminnie!!” 

You reach out to capture his cheeks with both hands, giggling and squishing his cheeks in glee. He notes how your makeup looks a little runny, that your friends were nowhere around, and that the bartender was keeping you both under a watchful eye. Your phone lights up next to you at a notification, and Seokmin manages to catch what you were looking at so intensely before he walked up to you; a picture of the both of you, taken at a friend’s birthday party only a few months ago.

Before you had broken up.

Seokmin smells the fruity alcohol oozing from you. He kneels down in front of your seat, head tilting as he examines you from head to toe. The bar’s music continues to thump on around you, and the way you’re ditzy even while sitting lets him know just what kind of night you are having.

“I am Seokminnie, pretty.” He can’t help but smile at the way you lit up at the new information, his nickname for you unconsciously slipping through. His hand can’t help but smooth over your hair, petting you as affectionately as he used to.

“Really?! I’ve missed you!” You squeal in excitement, squishing his cheeks even more as you turn towards the pitiful bartender. “See, Yena! I told you he’d come!”

Yena stares back at Seokmin, concern latched on her features as she slides you a water. “She’s had a bit too much to drink, I think.” She gestures towards the cup. “Get her to drink a bit before you leave– don’t do anything either of you might regret.”

Seokmin nods solemnly, lifting the cup to your lips. Wiping the countertop, Yena continues: “Um… She was crying. Like, a lot.” She looks at you, obediently drinking water while swaying to the music, then locks eyes with Seokmin again. “Take care of her.” She doesn’t let Seokmin answer, already whisking away to tend to another customer elsewhere.

“Of course,” he mutters, to himself more than anything. “Always.”

Turning to you, he grabs your small bag before tugging you onto your feet, stabilising you with a strong arm wrapped around your waist. 

The already uncomfortable sting in his chest continues to grow as he feels you cosy up to his side, slotting yourself next to him like you were never apart. It's crazy how muscle memory works, both of you fitting into each other like it's second nature. Like it was second nature, he reminds himself again.