Hyungwonho (384 hyungwonho fanfics)
Bro's before hoes, right? @Hyungwonologist l 2017
" names are meaningless. words don't mean anything. and this place? well, i like it here. it's better than being among brainless people out there. at least the ones here have gone crazy from thinking too much. somehow. "
Don't come in without permission. Don't make loud noises. Don't make sudden moves. your phone must be on vibration all the time. The office phone is at the lowest volume. leave it like that. just whatever you do, do not make him upset.
Falling in love with strawberry lips... Hoseok is a college student who lives a lonely life surrounded by friends- who are all in happy, working relationships. He wants to experience love like that, but his past abusive relationship prevents him from opening up and trusting people who aren't his close friends. Through a fatefully misfortunate accident, a mysterious (gorgeous) man named Hyungwon barges into Hoseok's life and he finds himself stuck between his trauma of the past and his
Hyungwon has a panic attack at a party. He is comforted by Lee Hoseok. This my be the light in his otherwise dark life.
what happens when an idol falls in love? once you have the love virus, there's no way out. you'll only fall deeper with each try.
Wonho was giggling like a child and he couldn’t sleep and looked at Wonho “What is it hyung?” “Hyungwon, do you know your gay name?” Hyungwon was taken aback at the sudden question.
Being an idol is hard. Being a gay idol is harder. But being a gay idol and stuck in the same group as the man of your dreams is downright torture. For Hyungwon, every day is a struggle as he discovers and tries to come to terms with the fact that he just might like Wonho a little more than he should...
Collection of One Shots. There will be different groups. One per day till Christmas. One shots are gonna be short. :,)
"It is hard to be accused of manipulation when really it's a scream of LOVE." (c) Diana Mcqueen
There are three pauses in Hyungwon's life. The one before ten years slip between his fingers on the edge of a skyscraper, the two sets of eyelids his hand brushes closed under the flash of headlights on the street, and the three words he tapes onto a pen placed into a brown box that lights up a smile on a black-vested sentry who wants to reverse the clockwork scars bleeding out his chest.