your chemistry is electrifying

From Rivals to Lovers - Minhyuk

Word Count: 1658

Genre: Fluff

A/N: guys i’m actually a terrible human being i haven’t posted in so long and i keep promising y’all scenarios and i’m really sorry. hopefully i’ll be able to write more this week since i’m on spring break. but anyway, thanks anon for requesting this was fun to write even though i probably didn’t do minhyuk justice.


“Again from the top,” Minhyuk’s voice rings out in the empty studio, and you internally groan as you get back into position, your muscles sore from the nearly seven hours of practice you’ve already endured.

Most girls would kill to be in your situation: practicing alone with a sweaty, shirtless Minhyuk, who was arguably the best dancer in the studio, into the wee hours of morning.

But not you. Ever since Minhyuk had joined the studio three years ago, you hadn’t liked him. Not one bit. At first no one had thought that he would ever amount to much: he was an utter klutz with two left feet, and was more of a nuisance than anything else. Minhyuk, however, was determined to succeed, locking himself in the studio for hours on end to perfect even the most basic moves, and while his progress didn’t show much at first, he slowly began to blossom into the beautiful and talented dancer he is today. As he climbed up the ranks in the studio, you began to take notice of the once clumsy boy who seemed dead set on making a name for himself, and you quickly became aware that your title of best dancer in the studio was at risk. It was when you realized this that your arch rivalry with Minhyuk truly began. Neither of you really said out loud that that’s what your relationship was, but you both knew it: constantly one upping one another during class, silently watching one another from afar to pick up on new skills, and trying to be the last one to leave the studio and the first one to arrive. As competition season came around, your competitive streak only got more heated as you consistently tried to outplace one another. By then, the entire studio had become well aware of the fact that the two of you didn’t get along, though everyone seemed to think that if you looked past your rivalry for two seconds, you would actually like the guy. Perhaps that was why your instructor had put in you in the situation you’re in now: partnered with Minhyuk for the duet competition that’s coming up in a few weeks.

The jazz track that you’re dancing to begins to blare from the speakers, and you let yourself get lost in the music, hoping that it will distract you from the fact that Minhyuk’s hands rest on your hips and that his face is still contorted into a cheesy grin even after this many hours of practice. As the two of you move about the room, you can’t deny the fact that you look pretty damn good dancing the routine together, somehow managing to channel your rivalry into a kind of onstage chemistry that is as electrifying as it is mesmerizing. When you reach the last part of the song, Minhyuk moves to spin and then dip you, but somehow you end up leaning too far back into the dip, and the next thing you know you’re on the floor with Minhyuk on top of you.

“Aish, sorry,” he says as you look up at him.

“It was my fault,” you stutter, refusing to meet his eyes, suddenly hyper aware of the awkward position you’re in.

“Erm, could you get off of me now?” you ask when he shows no signs of moving, choosing instead to stare down at you with an unreadable expression.

“In a minute,” he replies, and you see a shadow of doubt cross his face, “but first I’m going to do something I should have done a long time ago.” Before his words have time to register in your head, he’s leaning down towards you to tentatively press his lips against your own. Your eyes widen in surprise. You’re kissing Minhyuk. Your arch rival. {though you can’t deny that many a time he’s been the cause of an unexplained fluttering in your chest} Nonetheless you feel yourself jerk back, the implications of the situation too much for you to process, especially when Minhyuk’s on top of you and his mouth is covering your own.

But he’s persistent, molding his lips to yours again, pleadingly, almost as if he’s asking you, begging you to see him as more than just the boy that had gone from being an uncoordinated klutz to your only competition. And before you know what you’re doing, or why the thought of kissing Minhyuk in the middle of an empty studio at 3 in the morning no longer repulses you, you kiss him back. Your lips move against one another gently, as if you’re both afraid that this moment will just become another forgotten fantasy if you take things too far, too fast. You don’t realize that your hands have moved from their place on the linoleum floor to his neck, or the that Minhyuk is periodically smiling into the kiss as if noticing every few seconds that this is real. That he has finally worked up the courage to let you see that you mean something to him beyond the confines of a dance studio. That he can feel your steady heartbeat against his own wildly thumping chest. That his feelings no longer live on a one way street. When you finally break apart, Minhyuk stares down at you with a dazed look in his eyes, but a grin on his face nonetheless.

“Wow,” you say, feeling a blush starting to form on your cheeks.

“Well,” he replies, his eyes never leaving yours, “it took me long enough.”

“Well then,” you say smirking, “I guess we have to make up for lost time.” And with that, you’re pulling him back down toward you, the jazz track still playing in the background forgotten entirely as you get lost in the feeling of one another.


Needless to say, following the events of the night in the studio, you and Minhyuk become inseparable.  Lazing around with each other in sweats after particularly grueling weeks, discovering new places to eat around town, calling one another at random intervals just to share a stupid joke or something that reminded one of you of the other.

Life at the studio will never be the same, because while the competitive spirit between you will never truly die, all you know is that it’s a lot more fun to practice into ungodly hours of night with your boyfriend beside you than with the Minhyuk you used to know. Not to mention the fact that everyone at the studio, and you mean everyone, is so excited at the fact that the two best dancers have finally become the power couple that had been the object of countless studio bets.


You’ve spent eight blissful months together when you get the call.

“Meet me at the studio, I have something to tell you,” Minhyuk says, his voice a mix of anxiety and excitement.

“What? Why what hap-” the phone line goes dead, signaling that he hung up. You huff in annoyance, but hurry to the studio nonetheless as your curiosity has gotten the best of you yet again. As you burst through the doors of the studio, you find Minhyuk waiting for you, wringing his hands with an unreadable expression on his face. When he sees you, he wastes no time jogging over, placing his hands on your shoulders as he says the one thing that you know will change your future together forever.

“Fantagio recruited me as a trainee and they want me to move to Seoul.” The words spill out of his mouth without warning, his eyes desperately seeking out yours and searching them for the answer to the unsaid question that hangs in the air.

Your mouth opens, but instead of voicing the thoughts that are racing through your head at a million miles a minute, you lean forward and press it against Minhyuk’s. Perhaps because you know that a kiss will be able to speak volumes more than words can ever convey. Perhaps because you want to take every opportunity you have before this kiss (which has become almost as normal as breathing, and which sometimes feels as necessary) becomes a ghost of the past. When you finally pull away, you look your boyfriend square in the eye and whisper the one word that you know, deep down, he needs to hear, “Go.”


It’s been a year since you last saw Minhyuk. Since you parted ways as friends, even though you’ll always be so much more. A year since you’ve felt his steady heartbeat against your own. Since you’ve welcomed the embrace of his arms and forgotten that anything existed beyond their threshold. You’ve kept in touch, but you both feel the pain of talking to your first love and knowing that things will never be the same. So when you open your mailbox to find an envelope that smells like his cologne and his has his familiar scrawl across the front, you don’t know what to think at first. Upon opening it, you discover front row tickets to the event he’s been waiting his whole life for: his debut.You find yourself grinning as you stare down at the tickets in your hands, remembering a time when you were rivals and would make bets on who would reach this milestone first, after all, it was this shared dream that made you so competitive in the first place.

Two weeks later when you stand in the crowd and watch your formal rival perform effortlessly on the night before the next chapter of his life, you can’t help but think that’s he’s outshined you once and for all. Nor can you help the smile that creeps across your face as you realize that the pang of jealousy that you would have once felt in your stomach has been replaced by an undying pride for the clumsy little boy from the studio who’s finally making his dreams a reality.

Secret Agent MC - Part 2

Seven finding out MC’s the top 1 secret agent in the same Agency as him? Like how would he find out and how would he react.

Part 1 | Part 2


Part 2 finally ready! Only a week later than promised oops. This part also contains spoilers for Seven’s route and Secret Ending #1!

For mobile users unable to use a Read More, tap here

Again, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEVEN’S ROUTE AND SECRET ENDING #1.


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