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sweet-citrus-candy · 11 months

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how to unsubscribe to dating

SUMMARY: on april 18th, hansol likes his favorite youtuber’s instagram picture. not because of her content—though, he finds himself laughing at all of her weekly videos—but because he thinks she’s gorgeous. that is how it ends. just a like on a picture that no one will see.

three years later and after a tough break-up, the internet hates her and a misstep has hansol dragged into the drama. now, everyone thinks they are dating and what a better way to gain subscribers and have millions on views on their videos? just let them think it’s real and work on a whole season of dare videos for the world to enjoy.

only that it is not so easy, one can subscribe to a youtube channel but not really unsubscribe to falling in love.

TITLE: how to unsubscribe to dating.

PAIRING: chwe hansol x reader

GENRE: youtuber!au ; fake dating-ish!au ; youtube drama!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; idiots in love!au

WORD COUNT: 14,014 words

GENRE: fluff ; humor ; drama ; angst if you squint ; suggestive

NOTE: this was a kofi request! if you want me to write anything, you can go over there and request something from me.

The secret to color theory is that there are primary colors, and the rest are just blend-able shades that would not exist without bases, foundations and ‘trials-and-errors’. In some sense, we correlate the color of our lives to that primary stance—we are red, we are yellow…the intensity that we want to be. How we want to counterpart in a main role that, inherently, sometimes won’t be settled upon us. The saddening truth of being a purple, or a lime green.

She would have never imagined herself to be anything more than a yellow. She said, when she was younger, that her voice would be so high that the annoying tone that came with her made her stand out in any crowd. Yellow. And then came heartbreak, teenage years, the blending with a pure gray or a black undertone that could never get her to darken her soul. It was more like a mustard yellow. Lulled. Not as bright. Just wishing upon standing out again, blending nicely with everyone, but always sticking out like a sore thumb. Hard to look in the eyes.

For the past two months, she felt like she was back to her bright yellow. To smiles with all teeth, shared with Jay as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder; to late-night talks with the phone screen glaring across her vision as she whispered small ‘I don’t want to go’s. Relatively, that comes to a stop. Because, in the eyes of a man that she dated with the dumbfounded hope to finally meet the love of her life, she was never yellow. God, he’d cringe at the mere sound of the Coldplay song. She was brown.

As in shitty brown.

Jay should be better than this. In actuality, after how everything fell down with a break-up text that he never really responded to, she doesn’t think he’s better, but hey, common sense is a thing still, isn’t it? As a YouTuber, quite like her, who shared the same interests and niche with a commentary channel based on pop-culture, one would think that he would not incorporate their ‘not-that-talked-about’ relationship in a Tweet. Though, maybe she had seen him as a bright blue, when he’s nothing but—at best—a plum or a dark gray.

You know, like having concrete between your teeth. Not that pleasurable, neither something she wants to try again.

@notthatjay_lee: how does that song go? a, b, c, d, e, f…thank you for wasting my motherfucking time.

She chuckles. Actually, full-on laughs when sitting on the counter at her kitchen, trying or supposedly about to edit her newest video commenting on Disney’s old shows and how she binge-watched them on a brim. Not that the viewers should know that she watched the entirety of Hannah Montana in a week because she was going through a break-up and crying for the asshole that Jay Lee is, but she needed to update after being a month away.

She continues scrolling, watching the thread that has formed in the tweet and the hundreds of comments that tag her. They weren’t precisely out as a relationship, but it was known. They went to conventions together, appeared in pictures with fans tagged together. It wasn’t hidden under the rug, but it was also not blasted out of proportion like Jay is doing right now.

He responded to a fan.

@jaysassissick: We are here for you, Jay! I can’t believe what some bitches can do for fame.

@notthatjay_lee: imagine getting cheated on by someone who can’t even reach a million subscribers. lol. can sadly relate.

“You just didn’t…” She mutters to herself, standing up and closing her laptop with a bang. More notifications pop up, from all social media that she could muster. Pictures tagged of the two of them together coming up with headlines that read commentary-channel YouTubers feuding. Cheating. Cheater, out of all things.

And that’s the thing about women. If they are not colors that blend well with the primary ones, like men expect to be, they are tarnished and burned to ashes to stay in the ground. That was her case, in which her silence was the ignition of a chain of events that now are out of her reach. None of those people that keep harassing her online can know that Jay had been distant the past month; that he’d spend more of his days running away from her than actually trying to put effort into the relationship.

That it’d be more looking through social media to see him commenting on pictures of his supposed ‘friends’ wearing bikinis and his phone hidden with his face down whenever they were together. It was not confirmed, of course, she didn’t have enough proximity with him, neither did they live together for her to confirm that her suppositions were true, but something she knows. Jay is not a saint, neither is she for the rage that builds within her like a Lego house that burns with the unsatiable need of revenge.

She almost believes that the best way to go about this is making it as public as he is. However, she knows she’s better. Yellow, bright, shining, as she has always been, just shadowed by someone who was envious of how burning her colors could be. Hence, she puts her phone down after turning it off, quite like he did whenever a fight ensued between the two and he would play the victim card with a pout to his lips. She thinks about it—the video she is supposed to edit, the pictures on her phone she has yet to delete and the revival, that word that speaks about new beginnings and definitely, a smirk that tells the past that she’s doing much better.

For now, she’s just alone in her apartment. With a bowl of noodles that has gone cold and a heart that is palpitating far too fast, for heartbreak isn’t easy, much less when it’s this open, but she can think of ways of getting back to Jay, whether the public knows it’s directly thrown his way or not.

She owes this man nothing.

“Jeonghan, I need you recording my shit. Not looking at your phone.”

With a hand quipping closed as if asking for Hansol’s lips to remain shut, Jeonghan remains as relaxed as he had been when they started recording this weekly’s recap. Though, while Hansol had been stumbling over his lines—as per usual on a Saturday morning, that’s the only time they could meet up because Seungcheol was going on a trip this weekend for his cousin’s wedding—, Jeonghan had frankly lost his mind to whatever is showcased in his phone. So far in the text he’s reading, which Hansol is certain is not a book, that he leaned back on one of the love seats in Hansol’s office, propped his knees to his chest in fetal position and lurked through whatever caught his interest like a lion looking for his prey.

“The moment you can get a word out without stuttering is the moment we start recording.” Jeonghan runs a hand through his black hair, covering the rudeness of his words with a soft smile. Hansol knows better than to take Jeonghan’s words close to heart, but still.

“I just needed some more coffee.”

Seungcheol enters the room then, with a new Starbucks drink since Hansol decided to steal his. “You drank my macchiato.” With a slap on the back of Hansol’s head, the man takes a seat on the other empty love-seat, as if there is not a whole video to be recorded and posted on Monday. “But Hansol’s not wrong. I have to get on that plane at four and it’s nine in the morning. We can get through this video if we just start recording it.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond and Hansol takes this time to sigh deeply and toss his head back. Things were easier when posting a YouTube video wasn’t so…meticulous. At the beginning, just over eight years ago, Hansol had posted a video on social media that had gotten quite visibly viral. He had over a million views in just fourteen hours, breaking records somehow, making it to meme accounts and Vine compilations. Stupid as it could get, it was a video of Hansol wearing a swimming hat and those aesthetic sunglasses that resembled John Lennon’s style, with Jeonghan zooming in on the frame and him saying: ‘bitch’ before the video came to an end.

It had literally no context, but he made a living out of it.

That’s how he launched his career, changed the name and created an online persona. He called himself Zach, sporting bright and quite frankly unfitting outfits and making meme weekly recaps. He spoke about what was new on the Internet, made fun of some videos, never quite made it to the commentary channel spectrum but became a voice that over ten million people had subscribed to. No one knew that his real name was Hansol, or that he wasn’t as outspoken as he was in his videos. Never an opinion that breaks or makes a room.

Jeonghan grabs the coffee mug from Seungcheol’s hold, ignoring the man’s complaints to take a sip. “I think I have a topic we need to add to this week’s review.” He finally pulls away from his original position, biting down on his lip like he does when he has an idea that he can’t keep on the depths of his chest. “Have you heard about the newest drama with Jay Lee?”

Hansol crosses his arms across his chest, sitting on the edge of the desk that holds his computer, always in front of him in his videos. “Jay…Lee? Doesn’t ring a bell for me.”

“You know, the TikTok guy who makes POV’s videos.” Jeonghan urges on, tossing a glance towards Seungcheol who finally snatches his drink before giving a curt nod.

“Even I remember who he is.”

“How many guys don’t make ridiculous videos on TikTok?” Hansol prompts, only to have Jeonghan sighing.

“He was known on YouTube for his music videos and parodies. You know how that went a little bit downhill lately, so his niche has changed. Makes videos every once in a while.” Jeonghan includes in his narrative, turning his phone around to show a picture of a man he now recognizes. Damn, even in his beginnings as a YouTuber, Jay Lee already had a bunch of people under his name. With long, tossed back black hair, tattoos that scatter across a slim, tall body and a pair of glasses that always rest on the brim of his straight nose. He was of interest for a bunch of people on the Internet, even to this day.

“What about him?” Hansol questions, only to have Jeonghan clapping his hands once.

“He’s burning the Internet with his latest allegations. He was dating a commentary channel YouTuber, though they never accepted it, but he’s making the allegations that she cheated on him and has announced that he’s releasing a diss track to explain everything.” He’ll never understand how the world revolves around drama, but Jeonghan gives more explanation by saying her name and giving him the phone once again.

The picture shows a couple together with a fan, and he recognizes her with far more ease. He remembers last summer, when he would spend most of his afternoons laughing about her videos with the graphics she made. Very rarely does her face show on her videos, but she draws a little character that speaks, through her commentary, about the topic at hand. Always a show. A video. A meme. Hell, he thinks that she once talked about him on a video years ago.

Jay is much taller than her, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, squishing their cheeks together as they hold peace signs, her hand interlocked with the young fan’s. They didn’t look necessarily in love, but close enough to it. Like the beginning of a love that had just started to flourish.

“What has he said?” Seungcheol questions, now interested in the topic.

“What hasn’t he said? He has spent the past three days creating a YouTube war. He has even dropped her name a few times, tagging her, asking her to be upfront because she has escaped the internet. MIA and all.”

Hansol can’t imagine how tough it is to go through a break-up where the other person is trying to plot everyone against her. Sure, he’s not certain if she cheated, but he takes his own phone to look through Twitter, seeing him post pictures of the two of them together—clearly personal, never seen by anyone but them—, adding thread after thread of how in love he was with her and how badly she broke his heart. It seemed like he was bleeding through a wound that was never quite as open as he made it out to be.

“What an asshole.” He mutters, getting closer to the computer and writing something down on his script. “I think we can add it to this week’s episode. The last bit. Just for a few clicks and because…he’s really getting out of control.”

“And everyone is supporting him.” Jeonghan adds, shrugging his shoulders. “Would be nice to give an opinion that isn’t sided one way or the other.”

“…That’s putting Hansol against a man that has just about the same following as him. Including him in the war isn’t going to do the channel any good.”

Hansol looks up at that moment, raising his eyebrows and weighting the options. Seungcheol isn’t wrong, but he knows this is a topic that needs to be talked about. Break ups on the internet. Where some people post videos crying and hugging for the last time, while others take their following to side with them as if it was a parent going through divorce.

“Yes, but this whole Zach character is about that. Speaking about what I think is wrong, right or funny…and these tweets? Stupid, borderline funny, over-line worrying.”

Seungcheol takes a sip of his macchiato, bringing a shoulder up in nonchalance. “I’ll have to take care of the mess after, but if that’s what’s going to bring the views, go for it.”

Is he really doing it for views, though? Or maybe, he just thinks it’s inherently wrong to destroy someone’s career that way, until they are too afraid to go on the internet because of hate. Jay Lee will have to learn a lesson about being made fun of.

@notthatjay_lee: glad to know the mystery’s resolved. @chwethatzach you’ve cleared the rumors up. song coming in three days!

Hyeji had said it seven months ago when she started liking Jay, as she flipped on tarot decks, spread them neatly on the coffee table between them, speaking through a cloud caused by the blunt between her lips. Jay Lee’s an imbecile, he’ll break your heart. She didn’t listen, because in her mind all men go through a phase of being overly-confident and, quite frankly, assholes. She opted to believe that Jay was willing to change and talk, venturing into a friendship and then, into whatever kind of relationship they had held that now is a complete disaster.

Her best friend, Moon Hyeji, runs her fingers through her dirty hair after showing her the tweet that Jay had just posted. Tagging her after, nonetheless. Hyeji, as wild as she is, with long locks of wavy hair and a rose tattoo on the column of her neck, had called Jay just a day ago, telling him to back off before she took legal actions. Taking it from the woman who is the daughter of one of the richest men in the country, a businessman nonetheless, Jay should have taken it a little bit more seriously. Hence, he doesn’t.

“What the fuck do I even have to do with that dude?” She questions, finally standing up from her position on Hyeji’s lap. Ever since this issue went to absolute hell, with the diss track incoming and a handful of people making drama videos about the timeline of their very short-lived relationship, Hyeji had travelled all the way from London to get here and eat piles of ice cream while bad-mouthing Jay. Only that it didn’t help her the slightest.

She wants to talk, but she doesn’t know how to go on about the issue. Fueling the problem even more if just going to have his fans speaking with more fervor, and just like how he doesn’t have proof of her cheating, she also doesn’t have anything to defend herself with about not cheating.

“There’s a video, apparently…” Hyeji roams through her phone with long nails before she displays her screen on the TV in front of them. The image that loads is of the start of a video of someone she knows somewhat well, for she really likes Zach Chwe’s videos, or at least, she can catch up on them every once in a while.

Zach has always been a little different than most. He feels like a true friend that one can talk with as he launches in that green chair of his, always wearing clothes that leave everything to the imagination and would have everyone talking about him. He’s wearing a tie-dye hoodie, as per usual in some of his videos, with an apron on top of it that reads ‘the chef’s dead’ and a pair of sunglasses that rest on top of his brown hair. His soft eyebrows move with each of his words, firstly greeting his audience, then speaking about the newest memes found on the internet.

“He must have spoken about your issue with Jay.”

“How so? He never talks about drama.” She asks, getting a look from Hyeji who clears her throat soon after.

“People believe he’s the one guy Jay is saying you cheated with.” Her best friend whispers, moving through the video, getting fast glimpses of Zach laughing, tossing his head back, speaking through slim lips and using his ring-cladded hands to express his points. Only three minutes before the video ends does the image of Jay with her and a fan comes on the screen, earning Hyeji a few taps on her shoulder.

“There! There! Stop the video there!”

The darkness of her room, reeking the smell of orange chicken and diet soda, is bathed in the light of Zach Chwe as he rolls on his chair and says: “There’s a reason us men are called assholes and I think it’s because Jay Lee exists. Okay, I’m not anyone to be putting my opinion here and I usually stay away from these things, so I’m not sure if she cheated or not…but isn’t it, at least, the best thing you can do to spell correctly as you’re dissing your ex?”

Then, the screen shows screenshots of Jay’s tweets, bathed in hate, writing in the worst possible way and yet, with a few errors.

She hadn’t noticed that as she got drowned into the drama that he had created, so she smiles for what feels like the first time this week.

“You don’t even spell that well, Zach!” Someone shouts from the background, and she knows Zach Chwe normally has his friends putting in some words for spice on his videos, but she actually laughs along with him.

“More of a reason to critique, I guess.” He shrugs his shoulders. “But hey, remember those Facebook videos we talked about a few weeks ago? If you haven’t checked it out, I’ll leave the link to that video on the description, but we were making fun about those mom videos where they make their daughters fearful of sending nudes because some creep will post them on their Facebook page. I thought men like that didn’t exist, until I figured out this whole Jay Lee thing. He’s a hair away from posting a picture of her feet, I tell you so.”

The video doesn’t last much long after that, with Zach making fun of Jay’s tweets and then, the camera zooming in on his face for an outro recalling his beginnings online. However, Hyeji has fallen silent, with her knees propped under her chin, using her free hand to caress the column of her ear, as always, seeking for a way of making her feel better through touch.

“This sounds…like the internet is going insane.” Hyeji then reaches for her phone, shaking in the air. “Come on, unlock it and turn on your notifications again!”

“What? Why?” She is not sure she’s ready to lurk through social media once again, Hyeji has been doing that for her instead, like her little manager, blocking the hate that gets real and personal.

“Jay is playing it off as if Zach Chwe is the one that you’re dating, or the one you cheated on him with.”

“I didn’t cheat on him—

“I know, but he’s trying to get views and I need to know if Zach’s team contacted you, so open that phone and get a pair of balls for what we’re about to face.”

A pair of balls would be little to what she needs once she opens Twitter and Instagram.

On Instagram, she has been tagged on a bunch of pictures. Headlines that include her profile picture on YouTube and Zach Chwe’s picture. Titles that go on the rampant lie of ‘YouTube Stars Zach Chwe and OfDrawingsAndWords on a relationship!’ scattering across her vision on every platform she comes across of.

“I’m doomed. Jay keeps winning no matter what I do—”

“Because you haven’t said anything. You’re protecting him even when he’s trying to destroy you.” Hyeji advices, pushing on her Instagram notifications until she sees it, a direct message from the YouTuber who is implicated on this drama with her, nonetheless. “So, you either take the reigns right here, right now or Jay Lee is going to drown your career before it even reached the shore.”

Shaking fingertips reach for the Instagram message, closing her eyes tightly until she opens it.

“Read it.”

“Come on…” Hyeji trails, clasping the phone in her hands. “I know it’s been tough, but I don’t need you hiding away.”

“I’m scared! This guy has nothing to do with me!” She screeches, slapping her hand on her shoulder only to have Hyeji looking at her. With that softness that characterizes her under all her strength.

“Alright…” Hyeji whispers, soon after reading out loud. “Hey, it’s Zach Chwe. I’m sorry that my comments involved us in a mess bigger than what you already had going on and my team and I want to make mends on the issue I just created. Do you mind talking about it, in person or with my PR team getting in contact with you? Sorry for the inconvenience once again.”

Hyeji takes in a deep breath before tossing herself onto the half-done bed.

“We’re talking about it in person.”

“…Uh, we’re not.” She finalizes, trying to snatch her phone back but Hyeji isn’t relenting. Though, she’s not as rude as one would imagine, she still consenting by looking her way and expecting her to change her mind. “Hyeji, I don’t want to see anyone right now. Jay’s blowing everything out of proportion—”

“Reason as to why you shouldn’t hide. Zach Chwe can be a great person to have on your side right now. The internet loves him, and now they’re not as cruel. You have to see the comments, people are torn just because he is involved.”

That makes her ponder, inspecting every portion of Hyeji’s face to find some fun or joke in her features, but she’s full-on serious. Not a drop of insecurity in those quirked eyebrows. She sighs deeply, taking the phone in her hands and seeing the sign that reads ‘you follow each other’. Why is it that people naturally gravitate towards what a man can say or not, even when she has been expecting to be trusted by anyone online and no one seemed to be by her side?

No one but him and a few people. Even the friends that she had collaborated with several times had taken his side.

Hence, she starts typing, not caring about the consequences of fueling the fire a little bit more, because she’s already getting burned, but she won’t relent without a fight.

“I’m down with meeting up so we can sort out how we will go on about this. You select the place and the time. Thank you for getting in contact, by the way!”

Hyeji places a kiss on top of her head, squishing her slim cheek against her scalp.

“We will get past this, love. I swear we will.”

She doesn’t think this unreasonable love war is anywhere near over, however.

“I sure hope we will.”

Hansol thinks making ramen is an art form. He does it when he’s nervous instead of nibbling on his bottom lip or tugging his black beanie down his ears for the umpteenth time. Only he would think it was a great idea to meet with one of his favorite social media creators on a fucking convenience store, but he feels protected by the quietness and the sweet buzzing of the microwave as he wishes upon a start that the stacks of cheese that he poured on his flaming hot noodles becomes a puddle at the bottom that relishes its exquisiteness.

So, maybe, he’s a bit nervous. Reason as to why he had lost his grip a bit when pouring the cheese on the ramen basket.

It passes him how she has been able to spend weeks receiving the messages she does, but the moment he posted that video, the narrative took another turn. Hell, he even thinks he has seen some edited videos of the two of them as a supposed ‘couple’. The song has been released, heard by thousands, even more news coming up about them and he’s…surprised. About the sheltering that came from his pseudonym and how the world is torn. Now, Jay shines as a real villain and people ponder if leaving him for Hansol was the right choice.

How in the hell he got in this situation is misunderstood by him?

However, he rubs on his eye after grabbing the ramen noodles and plopping them on the nearest table, he hears the bells by the door ringing, the worker too occupied in organizing the strawberry milks to even care about her, but he does. None of her pictures online would ever compare to how she looks in real life. With a gray turtleneck for the weather, face ridden of any makeup, sweater half-tucked into her pants and yet, as her sunglasses rest on the brim of her head, she looks like a whole…dream.

She reminds him of the warmth that comes from a gust of breath on top of freezing hands when winter drops around. They are just barely reaching fall, but the weather has fallen significantly. She stands in front of him, looking away from her phone before a small smile reaches the corner of her eyes, not adding a small ‘hi’ as he does with a wave of his hand, but something to the air between them nonetheless.

“You look different when you’re not mumbling ‘bitch’ into the camera.”

Breaking the ice, warming the air, significant matters that only she can do and does in the brink of a second. Hansol plops the two bowls of ramen on the table, watching as she scrunches her nose at the cheese to stir it within the mixture, but he tries not to think too much about his decision. Maybe, she’s just not fond of cheese.

“I take that as a good thing. I don’t call anyone ‘bitch’ unless I get a really good check out of it.” Hansol jokes around, soon after widening his eyes when she quirks an eyebrow at him, the corner of her mouth barely lifting in a smirk. “Not that I’d call you anything of the like. Gosh, I’m being stupid. Uh…hi, I’m Hansol.”

“You’ve already said hi.” She prompts, picking up some of the noodles and unlike him, who has already burned the bridge of his mouth, she twirls them on the chopsticks, blows on them and munches on the cheesy treat. “But I didn’t know you were called Hansol. I would’ve sworn on my life that your real name was Zach.”

He shakes his head. “I want my real life nicely divided from who I am as a person online. Not that I am much different, but Hansol’s the name that I have on my ID and that I use for personal matters, so I don’t want to mix the two.” He shrugs his shoulders soon after, saying her name and earning a nod from her. “Okay, so, uh…to the matter at hand, right?”

“Straight to the point.” She clears her throat, giving him a smile before reaching for the diet soda Hansol had brought. “So, half the internet thinks we are dating…and that you’re that supposed side guy that I had while dating Jay.”

He shouldn’t ask. Shit, this is Jeonghan speaking in his brain, telling him to fucking ask, but he’s curious. He heard the nonsensical beat that Jay released in the form of a diss track that now has fifteen million views, so… “Did you really cheat on him or is he taking everything out of context?”

She spreads her hands across her chest, defending herself. “Here’s the thing, I am a woman. Me breaking up with a guy just because I was unhappy in a relationship directly has to mean I cheated on him. For starters, I didn’t. I liked Jay even after the break-up, obviously until the moment he decided to blow everything out of proportion.” She explains, sighing deeply after. “I didn’t, for instance. I’m sorry that you got involved.”

“No, I am the one that should be sorry.” Hansol shakes his head, rubbing his eyebrow as if something was bothering him. “It’s just—No, I’m sorry but I don’t regret it. I had to talk about it. Part of it was because obviously, it’s a trending topic, but also because…no one deserves to get the hate you’re getting right now.”

She remains silent, playing with the straw in between strawberry lips. Not an ounce of makeup and yet, the inside looks as if they were bitten to utter perfection. Hansol’s embarrassed that he has liked every picture of hers on social media ever since they started following each other.

Things that the public had sadly taken account of and had completely used against them to prove a supposed relationship.

“I don’t regret it either. That you did that, I mean.” She counterparts. “Sure, I shouldn’t be thinking about revenge, but Jay has been so distraught and the public has turned against him, while also not being on my side. They are just on your side.” With a mellowness that, somehow, he thinks should never belong to her, for the twist of her lips on a downwards motion is a terrible contrast to the smile he saw earlier. “Reason as to why my friend got in contact with one of the people from your team. I don’t have a team myself—”

“I’m surprised I even have a team, so I don’t judge you.” Hansol’s eyes twinkle, remembering the words he had shared with Seungcheol earlier. After all, he’s the manager and the one—technically, for Hansol still has his input—in charge of what is posted on his channel or not. “Seungcheol, my manager, talked to me about what your friend and mine talked about.”

Seungcheol was not that happy about the exposure that Hansol got, but after a while, Jeonghan weighted the options and became a mastermind for what the internet was aiming to see. They wanted to learn the other side of the story, just because it would be told by one of the most liked characters in YouTube as of now. Zach Chwe, venturing into the world of a person that no one would have ever thought he’d be compatible with. To break all the rumors with a show, a mini web-series for the world to gnaw at while both teams earned money.

“For the record, I know it’s a difficult thing to think about. I wasn’t in for it at first.” Hansol explains, and he’s not sure he’s ready to have a different light casted on his channel, but Jeonghan was clear to say that he wasn’t intending on a dating show or a couple’s channel. Instead, he wanted something…vague. “They just want us to work on a challenge mini-series. We’d do stuff like go to haunted houses or anything of the like. To make people wonder if we really did date or we were just in it for the show. They’d give us views, hoping to find something or any clues, and we’d leave with a good paycheck and a big question mark after what we were.”

She continues eating, pondering with fluttering eyelashes and a sigh that gets trapped on her throat. “Yeah…I’m okay with it. I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” She responds, and Hansol thinks the deal is almost over, but she continues: “You’ll have to keep in mind that while there may be a huge wave of people loving our series together, you might also get a lot of hate. Jay did a great job at—”

“I don’t care.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll come to learn I don’t care about a lot of stuff. Hate? I don’t care.” Hansol explains, giving her a soft smile. “A wanking old man can tell me I’m the worst YouTuber he has ever seen, and I won’t take it to heart. I’m not a plate to be enjoyed by all.”

“Whoa…” She whispers, plucking a lot of noodles up to show it to him. “Not only are you the antonym of a lactose intolerant person, but you’re also awfully wise.”

“You’re welcome for the visit to the bathroom later.” Hansol comments, earning well-heard laughter by her. She tosses her head back and the laugh comes out in spurts. Odd and yet, cute.

“I’ll have to get used to those comments, Z—Hansol.”

“We’ll get used to each other. We have a whole season to plan, after all.”

WE VISITED A HAUNTED HOSPITAL? | EP. 1 S1 | ZACH CHWE

She’d kill Hansol for thinking of visiting a haunted hospital as the first topic of their new show, but she’s too scared to actually want to murder him right now. What if he came back as one of those ghosts who were supposedly here? She can’t risk it.

Drops of petrichor build on forgotten walls, where once were supposedly patients that needed help but were abandoned to a beckoning fire. Hansol said on the way here that he truly doubted the events happened. If the hospital was burned down to its core, why was it still standing and why were tickets sold for people to go through it like tourists in Sydney? She doesn’t have a clue. All that she knows is that they were placed on opposite ends of the hospital, bound to meet through clues, but she hasn’t been able to move from her position under a table.

She was aware that Hansol’s team and hers, which only includes Hyejin, had insisted on having jump-scares all around. One of those jump-scares could be Jeonghan in a clown uniform, but the moment she saw it, the moment she sprinted away. Now, she has been seated there for more than thirty minutes, ignoring her next mission and the door in front of her, with a beating heart and her knees pressed to her chest.

Great, she’s about to ruin their first episode.

Beheld with destiny, she thinks she’s about to shit her pants the moment she hears that old, wooden door creak under the weight of someone entering. Caught, she’s imagined to be, unable to discern between the group of people there to add spice to the video and the actual ghosts that are supposedly in this hospital. However, the first thing she sees are a pair of converses in light green and soon after, someone is kneeling in front of her.

Hansol’s long hair is clouded by a hoodie so thick his earlobes are red, or so she thinks that’s the reason, because his hand pats on the expanded leg of her jeans. Bell jeans were in once again, and she had opted to have them on her outfit. However, Hansol’s high cheekbones lift in a smile when he counterparts:

“If you’re really trying to hide from ghosts, having half of your leg out from underneath the table is not the way to go.” Hansol spares a look at the corner of the room, perhaps pinpointing where the camera is, before she shakes her head at him. She’s still a little shaken, letting out in a trembling tone what must be the most pathetic thing he’s ever heard.

“What if this place is actually haunted?”

“I don’t know percentages, but I am sure someone has died in every possible place on earth. Here, if it’s haunted, or anywhere.” Hansol drags himself under the table, sitting down next to her and taking up the same position she has, though he presses his cheek to the upper portion of his knees. “So, as a matter of fact, every place should be haunted.”

“You’re not helping.” She adds, turning her face to look at him and my God, is Chwe Hansol actually very handsome. He’s different from Jay, with higher cheeks, rounded eyebrows, and a color that resembles honey on tea in his irises. She should look away, not feed into the idea that people have of them being together, but they were meant to act as natural as possible for this show, and looking away has never been more difficult.

“…Said my mom as I helped with the dishes, and my sister after I met her first boyfriend. Helping is not really my biggest forte, but I try.” Hansol shows a full row of teeth when he smiles, like he does it without a care in this world. He probably does. Something about Hansol tells her that he doesn’t really care what people think of him. “But I found you, so I think that’s us winning the game, isn’t it?”

“Is this a park ride for you or something? You’re all smiley and shit.” She tells him, mimicking his smile though hers is a bit more crooked, like she’s trying to push it away so it doesn’t reach him as the most dumbfounded, surprised expression.

“I like this place.”

She feigns a ringing cellphone with a purr of her lips, folding her hand to mimic a phone only to be caught in between his digits, pressed to his ear as if he’s picking it up.

“Yes, hello?” He asks, fluttering eyelashes in between sweetened laughter. One would think that someone like Chwe Hansol was a punch of pink lemonade, but knowing he’s more like a very sweetened soda is a new occurrence.

“It’s your psychologist. He’s asking for another appointment.”

Hansol chuckles at her words, putting down her hand and yet, leaving her with a tingle that awakens in the pit of her stomach and blossoms like butterfly wings across her chest, filling her in with a breath so profound that every single one of her ribs expands with glee.

“They should.” With that, he stands up,extending a slim hand that wavers its fingers for her to grab. Once she does, she’s up her feet, chest to chest with a man who looks at her with pink lips closed together, hiding the row of teeth that she had grown so fond of in just minutes, for how beautiful and calming his smile could be. “I think we should get out and get to the exit—”

What they don’t expect is for the door to bang open, irrupting on their fort and creating a tense atmosphere when they come face to face with a clown, much of the like of what It could look like. And while Hansol laughs from the moment he sees it, she doesn’t. A shout trips from the back of her throat, much like herself, as she jumps onto Hansol’s back and feels his hands contracting against her thighs, catching her just in time. Her eyes, hidden by his neck, are barely touched by the long hairs on his nape that don’t get to be trapped in his beanie, and when she mumbles for them to leave, Hansol starts sprinting like his life depends on it.

Never does he stop laughing, though, as whoever is dressed on the clown outfit follows after them. He’s secure, for some reason, even when they don’t know each other very well, something about Hansol makes her feel as though she is protected. Sheltered from a world that had always been so tough, but with him is just a tiny bit more complex. And for Hansol, that’s okay.

Something tells her that Hansol doesn’t push himself to understand the majority of things. The reason why the world goes around the sun, or why so many people choose heartbreak. He knows he’s a particle, a mere second in a clock, a reason to laugh or a momentum to flee. While she lives through memories, Hansol relishes on breaths. On moments that are here and now, enjoyable and yet, somehow dreamy in the way that they go by so fast.

She doesn’t know him much, but when they reach the exit and the sun bathes them through peaks in between gray clouds, he is still holding her. Even when Seungcheol points Hansol’s camera at them and he’s talking, he still doesn’t let go of her. She hears a faint joke, a reason to part from his neck, but lord does she wish she would not have looked away.

For his face is too close and that mole on his temple is right there, valuable enough to catch her attention.

So, she drops herself to the floor, falling on her knees and raising her hands in the air before shouting to the camera:

“Good fucking Lord, we made it!”

And Hansol laughs, like he does in these situations, but how she wishes that laugh would not feel precisely like home should feel like.

Thirteen million views and just the third episode of the series has been posted. Now, that is breaking records.

She would have never believed the world would become a big number for her. Flop or not valued by the amount of people seeing you; regardless of interest or not. She seeks for that validation—much more after the break-up—. From people who don’t really know her, but love to give conspiracies about how Hansol and she met. They say they are together, and they don’t really deny it. The closer they get through episodes, the more people seem interested in it, and while she’s in the thrive for more—fame, success, whatever the fuck it is that is sedating her, Hansol stays…the same.

He invited her over to his place. So unorganized, just like his thoughts. He leaves his coats hanging on his poor couch, picking them up per demand, with splashes of coffee on the coffee table from early this morning still forgotten. Tonight, on this Saturday night, Hansol has brought soju with himself, licking off the remaining bits of his black bean noodles from his chopsticks. She still has a bit left on her place, but she has opted to sit with her head hanging from the sofa, looking at him from upside down, maybe a bit boozed because of the alcohol he had prepositioned for ‘idea organization’.

“What if we ate noodles on a rollercoaster?” They have planned up to episode ten. The end of the season, after all. But people have been asking for another season, and while it’s not confirmed, a company had ventured into the hardships of wanting to promote them for a second season and that meant giving them ideas on a silver platter in hopes of them liking it enough to support it monetarily.

“You want a POV of us vomiting on a camera. Got it.” She drags, inspecting the way his cheeks turn maroon and how he puts his bottle of soju down, giving her a smile that, if she had to describe, would call it extremely dumb.

“When you put it that way, sounds incredibly hot.”

“Ew, Hansol.” She has gotten used to calling him that name now, a month into their venture and almost four episodes in. Her head starts thumping and with four bottles of soju, she can’t stop thinking. Hansol has almost been like a bubble; he lets her see on the outside and still, protects her in some way. She knows that the death threads are still there, as well as the ongoing rumors with Jay that include her in a love triangle, but with him, recording and a new group of people around them, she has managed to lose herself a bit more. “I can’t think straight at this moment.”

“Probably because you’re losing blood flow.” Hansol drags himself closer to her, never lifting his butt of the ground, twisting her hair in a bun that falls the moment she sits up straight. Not because he told her so, or because she was afraid of losing oxygen in her brain, but rather the reason behind it was that Hansol was a little too close to her. Enough for her to see those beautiful speckles in her eyes.

Yes, so that’s the thing…Hansol is extremely pretty.

Awfully so.

In a drunken state, that’s multiplied by a hundred.

“What if we made a ‘Show Me The Money’ parody?”

Hansol shrugs. “I’d eat you up.”

“You think so?” She slurs, pressing her cheek to the edge of the couch and almost twitching when Hansol reaches for the corner of her joggers, pulling them down where they had bunched at her ankles. That’s when his skin comes in contact with hers, wrapping entirely around that portion of her leg and letting his thumb caress the joint behind it. “Mm, don’t do that.”

“S—Sorry.” And Hansol pulls away at that moment, cheeks even more flushed with the alcohol, eyes widened. “I—I didn’t…”

“It just feels nice.” She tells him in a whisper, dozing off and letting her eyes close as the only thing she can hear in the background is the faint sound of Drake’s latest record and, of course, his calm breathing. “…And I don’t like getting used to it. You don’t know how many times I’ve gotten used to things only for them to hurt me…after…”

It’s the alcohol talking and the sleepiness losing her, because she doesn’t remember what else she had said or why she falls asleep so fast. What she does remember is what she dreams. She sees Jay in dreams, remembering the way his palm fit so snugly around her knee, and how he’d trace the underside of it with how big his hand was. Now, she sees it in third person, in some cramped-up party of the like of those he went to, with his lips spread around another woman’s, doing the same thing he did to her, and somehow breaking apart the little threads left in her heart. Because that’s what men have always done to her—hurt her until she couldn’t recognize herself.

She awakens with sweat pooling at her neckline and breaths unarranged in a manner that has her clasping the first thing she feels. Hansol has turned down the lights, his back pressed to the edge of the couch, head lulled back in a way that will probably have him aching in the morning. His brown hair spreads on top of his forehead like vices, eyelashes straight and long, jaw squared yet somehow relaxed as his lips part. He’s snoring softly, barely audibly, laying there like he wouldn’t move even if the world ended.

So, she drags her hand across his forearm, feeling every bump and mountain of slim muscle until she reaches his knuckles and touches them, shaking his hand in hopes of getting him to open his eyes.

He doesn’t, but he does hum at the mention of his name.

“Hansol…I had a nightmare.” She has them often. Each time, she looks into the shadows of the night hoping for the real monsters to appear. Not the ones that make their guest appearance in horror movies, but the ones that actually hurt her. People that tarnished her heart in ways that now has it stopping from time to time. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but could…could you please hold me? When I’m held, I can fall back asleep.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rasps out, dragging himself towards the couch as she makes him some space. He doesn’t talk about his room or taking up the bed, because he’s probably too sleepy to even care, when he places an arm under her head and lets him square a leg in between his just to make room for the two.

“I’m sorry for getting so close.”

He drags her until her face rests on his collarbone, humming what she can imagine is a ‘no’. “You’re not doing it for anything bad. It’s okay.” He whispers. “Is this tight enough?”

She looks up at him, eyes still closed. So naturally peaceful and yet, somehow blaring war noises inside her head. Ready to flee away just in case her stomach drops to the ground at the mere sight of him. “It’s perfect.”

Hansol shouldn’t feel perfect. Not if season two is ever going to happen.

Usually, the one with the cruel ideas is Jeonghan. Hyejin has finally met up to that standard. Her friend, not his, and that’s surprising. Hansol has to give her some props for the idea of the ninth episode.

‘Never Have I Ever’. He doesn’t think he has played the game since that one moment he joined college. Only recently did he get his degree, and the engineering degree normally doesn’t get invited to the kind of parties that have drinking games, but Hansol was friends with a bunch of people who would take any kind of game as a reason to drink. This one doesn’t include drinking, but it’s either eating something really nasty, laid in front of them on a picnic cloth—there are testicles in there, as far as he knows—or answering.

Hansol should be concentrated on making her eat the five meals that are meant to be eaten by her, but he is tranced by her. Has been since two weeks ago, when he decided that sharing a couch with her was a good idea. Not only did he have to walk away before she noticed that he had accidentally wrapped a hand around her waist while asleep, but he also had to fight off the thoughts that ventured into his head. He didn’t want to be the rebound, but that’s precisely what he would be if he tried to get with her. If he played the cards he does sometimes, when life is a little simpler, of rubbing the back of his neck and buying someone’s favorite Pokémon cards.

It doesn’t help that she has decided to look absolutely gorgeous while they sat on a bench, in a secluded park that Seungcheol had found fitting for filming. Roses scatter around them in the same color of red that splashes on her dress. A loving heart neckline that has him looking down and—fuck, Hansol, don’t be stupid. She’s way out of your league—

“Never have I ever…” She drags her voice while reaching into the hat that was placed nearby for them. He looks at the shape of her mouth, the length of her eyeliner and he wants to punch himself for a second. For staring with that intent, even with cameras around them. For feeling a bit protected in front of them just because everyone thinks they are dating. Or so. “Eaten or tasted earwax.”

“Do I have the face of a man that has tasted earwax?”

“Yes.” She responds, chuckling at him only to have him scrunching up his nose. He looks down at the plate that is served in front of him, this round’s beverage for anyone to enjoy. “Hansol, don’t tell me you have.”

“I’m not sure, but I was a weird kid! May have!” He tells her, picking up his chopsticks and biting into the testicles that he had repulsed from the moment the game started. She throws her head back, laughing like the child in her had awakened at his response, before she’s shaking her head and tossing the card to the side.

“You’re so nasty.”

“Tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Just because I am sure I did it as a kid as well, I’ll help you out with those testicles.” She picks up the chopsticks from his hands, giving it the slightest of bites before sticking out her tongue and dropping it to the ground. “Gross! Jeonghan, where the fuck did you find this stuff?”

“It was Cheol!”

The game continues, with the two of them a point away from either losing or winning. She has her legs spread in front of her, crossed by the ankles, waiting for him to read the card that he’s just opening when his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. Oh, this wasn’t Seungcheol. This has Hyejin’s name written all over it. He knows it because she has been wriggling her eyebrows whenever he makes his way past her, opting to tease him about the ‘obvious crush’ he has on her best friend.

“Never have I ever liked the person across from me.”

Hansol doesn’t move, and he should be drinking the broccoli lemonade that the team prepared, but she moves with a little more precision, as if her anatomy was made to act in cue. His heart stops when she grabs the glass and brings it up to those lips that had been burgundy red at the start of the recording to drink. She closes her eyes, tosses her head back, and gags at the taste, but Hansol is far too lost.

…She had liked him? Then? Now? When?

“Confessions, confessions. Always coming up from these videos.” She is more of a natural in front of the camera, taking his hand and bringing it up in the air as per a champion from a boxing fight. She has won him over, if only if she knew. “We’ve got ourselves a winner. Give a round of applause for Zach Chwe, everyone!”

Hansol can’t even smile. He’s dumbfounded, staring at her profile and seeing her grin in such an easy going way. Though, the moment they say their goodbyes from the video, she pulls away from him, clearing her throat and looking at him as if she expects an answer. One that never comes and leaves him just to stand up, excuse himself out of the park and lock himself in the nearest bathroom.

Being the rebound is not what he wants, but God, would he be lying to himself if he didn’t accept he has liked her for longer than he’d want to admit.

Two months pass by. The first season becomes a success and still, not a word has been uttered about that episode. The subscribers’ favorite episode, but the forgotten episode for those who were involved.

No one asks questions when they come together for VidCon. It feels natural, actually. She doesn’t think she would have been able to just go on her own anymore. As some kind of way the world had planned it, Hansol feels like her counterpart in whatever this is right now. Friendship, work, whatever they have garnered together that people seem to love enough to have a panel for them, where they speak to fans and take pictures together. She notices then that she’s not the only person awestruck by Hansol’s beauty, even when that’s obvious at this point. He looks like a daydream in his black t-shirt, rounded glasses and skinny jeans, smiling in pictures and even joking around with fans.

Sometimes, she just looks at him from the side and blames him for it. For letting things slide so smoothly in between the two after that forbidden episode. He never said a word, neither did he try to clear her head with a kiss to her lips or even a strict ‘no’ that would have her moving on. It’s his fault for being likeable; for giving her a necklace with her initial as a celebration when their first season became a success. For him to receive her with a bowl of noodles for every recording they had each week. For him to tag her on stupid memes on Twitter, not giving a care what anyone could say.

The venue is packed and Hansol gets a little too lost on conversations with a fan that is talking about his beginnings as a gamer—that wasn’t really good to start with—when she feels someone tapping her on the shoulder. Her hips move from the edge of their table, where an enormous poster of the publicity image for the first season of their show spreads in the background, to turn around and respond to the subscriber that was trying to get her attention. Nonetheless, like a clashing thunder in a summer day, Jay stands there looking like the oddest thing she has seen in the past three months.

Because she’s not used to him anymore. Neither has she felt like she was truly comfortable with the idea of him. He’s a few heads taller than her, with his black hair pushed back and the sleeves of his shirt dragged up to showcase his tattoos. He’s smiling when he greets her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and hugging her briefly before he pulls away. They are lucky that is not peak hour and most people have scattered to look at the music presentation that was taking place.

“Jay?” She questions, only to have him smiling proudly, like he would do whenever he got recognized in public.

“The one and only. I had to pass by when I heard you were making it to this year’s convention.” His dark brown eyes splay across the poster behind them, trailing after every detail of the image of Hansol wrapping an arm around her shoulder, both smiling at the camera as they spread their hands in peace signs, smiling gleefully. “Haven’t watched a season of the show, but I might start. It’s fucking everywhere.”

She should not talk to him, but she scoffs at his words, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest to portray just how closed she is to him, but she doesn’t miss her sarcastic smile. Not an ounce of hate is within her chest anymore, but she recalls the wounds he opened just to make bigger ones. “…Mhm, it’s not the type of show you’d watch. Too much of a big brainer.”

“Oh, come on, you know I’m smarter than I look.”

For the way he plotted the entire internet against her, she knows for a fact Jay could very much be a lawyer or an astronaut if he wanted to. Misspells or not. “I’m certain. I’ve never doubted you’re a cunning, smart little shit.”

“I like that. Might make it my new motto.” Before Jay could venture into more of a conversation, her waist is grounded by a pair of thin arms wrapping around them. Soft skin connecting with her through the fabric of her pink hoodie has her looking back to see that Hansol is hugging her from behind, hiding his hands on the pockets of her hoodie and pressing his chin to her shoulder before whispering into her ear.

“We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Like organizing our things at the hotel and sign some posters for tomorrow…” He never rushes with those things, but at the presence of Jay, Hansol’s a bit more masculine and selfish with time. When she tries to answer him, far too lost in the beauty of him now that he has pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, pulling the strands of his hair back, his golden eyes have settled on Jay, not even sparing him a grin out of courtesy. “I’ll have to snatch her away from you.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Jay adds, aiming to hurt and taint, but Hansol doesn’t let him. Instead, he pulls her by the strings of her hoodie, interlocking their hands together before speaking closely to her face.

“So, are we going?”

It’s not a doubt that she says ‘yes’. After all, if her heart had grown a bond for Hansol without him touching her that way, having a glimpse of what it could be like to be with him has her brain going feverish.

Hansol is certain about many things. That he likes the color green. He loves tie dye hoodies. That he would die in a beanie if he could. He enjoys weird scary shows, and he would marathon the entirety of Scream in a minute. He is also certain that he doesn’t want to talk to her, as they sit across from each other in his hotel room. Not just because, but for the matter that she was talking to the ex that had done anything in his willpower to push her to be absolutely nothing.

He sits on a brown leather couch, working diligently on signing posters while she has opted not to do so. For the past ten minutes, she has ventured into all the possible conversation topics in order to get him to look up, even smile, but while Hansol likes living his life in tranquility, he also has his angered moments. His blood felt like it had rushed to his knuckles from how tight he was holding them closed when he saw Jay. He couldn’t bear but admit to himself that, while he had opted not to think about her in that light, the idea of her going back to Jay and not with him infuriated him. Sure, she wasn’t his—neither was she anybody’s, for that matter—but if someone had to have her as the person by their side, it had to be him. Right?

Anyone but fucking Jay Lee.

But preferably him.

Yet, she knows how to get the world to look at her with eyes that had been rose-colored by her voice and eyes alone. After ten minutes, she knows that he won’t talk to her and when the beads of silence surround the cream-colored room, he almost imagines that she has left. Only that he gets to see her jean-cladded thighs standing in front of his knees, his eyes darting to her face for a fraction of a second until he sees her. The closeness, the little smile that splays in the corner of her mouth, and that wave to her eyebrows that tells him that she’s a bit confused, amused, but also a tad annoyed.

“Why are you angry at me? I haven’t done anything to get the silent treatment.” God, she’s one of the smartest women he has met. With the way she can think of matters in the spot and make a drawing on the screen the most interesting thing in the world. He knows her commentaries on movies are the most precise, intelligent words that could be said, and yet, he wishes she could wake up and realize that he has been here, all along, for three months and even a bit more, liking her like a complete fool. “Hansol, you either talk to me or you talk to me. I’m not giving you another option.”

“That man was…okay, I’ll talk to you.” Hansol stops himself when he hears just how mortified he sounds when he starts talking, putting the poster he was signing to the side, laying on the table next to him with the other pile of posters. Soon after, he’s spreading his hands on the armrest, leaning back on the couch. “Jay has done nothing but make your life an absolute hell and there you go, just being nice to him, letting him hug you and talk to you—”

“Hold up,” She interrupts him, spreading a hand on her waist. “If I just ignore him or treat him like shit, I’m giving him even more of a reason to talk. I’ll be the first to admit to say that the stuff Jay put me through wounded me in ways that will take more than a few months to work through, but I also don’t want to give him the benefit of being aware of how much he hurt me.”

Hansol can understand that, but he also knows what men like Jay think. He runs his fingers through his hair, groaning through half-parted lips. “He probably thinks he still has you on the palm of his hand.”

“He doesn’t.” She shrugs. “So, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to see you with him. That is the problem.” Hansol says, standing up and staring at her, face-to-face. “I know you won’t go back to him but it makes me angry to think you ever thought of being with him. Not only doesn’t he match up with you on looks, but he never deserved you. You could put him on a pan and drop an entire bag of salt on him and Jay Lee would still be flavorless. The biggest mistake you could ever make, and the thought alone of him wanting to be with you—”

“I don’t want to be with him.”

“Yes, but…” You also don’t want to be with me, he completes for himself. Sure, she had once said she liked him, but what reassures him that it wasn’t just for the camera?

“You’re making a big deal out of it!”

“I fucking know!” He exclaims, widening his eyes.

“Then?”

“I will make everything that happens to you a big deal because I care for you. I’ve liked you for God-knows how long. Sorry for getting jealous, but I don’t regret it one—”

She interrupts him before he could say anything else, with her lips spreading across his, savoring the tremor of his mouth before he opens it to the granting touch of her tongue. His bottom lip fits between hers as if they were made for her, her hands gravitating to his waist and pulling him closer, though the fact that she was the one to make the first move did not stop Hansol from adding his own motions. His hands spread on the back of her neck, thumbs coming in contact on the column of her throat and dragging a sweet stripe down, rising goosebumps all over her skin. Hansol tilts his head to the side, a cloud of humidity building from the breath he lets out before kissing her lazily, albeit strongly, like he knows he doesn’t have to do much to do it right.

She would like to punch him, ask him why he never did anything when she confessed to liking him in that video, but Hansol has seated back on the chair, hands landing on her hips as he continues to kiss her, and her thighs part to settle comfortably on his lap. When she pulls away from him, lips tainted in that romantic shade of pink that he leaves everywhere he goes, she traces the outline of his mouth with a peck before she goes down to his neck, hiding in there for a second.

“You had me guessing for so long, Hansol. That’s what assholes do.”

Hansol’s hands rub at her hips, one of the portions she’s more insecure about, but with him it just feels right. “I don’t want to be your rebound.” He tells her, grabbing her by her chin before pushing their lips together once again. He keeps his eyes closed when he speaks against her mouth, just minutes after biting on her bottom lip. “Please, don’t let me be a rebound. If I am, stop me now.”

She’d be crazy to stop him. Not when his mouth looks like a rose petal and her heart feels the more at ease she has felt in a while. Sure, this is always the start of every romance. She knows that men feel comfortable before they destroy her heart even worse than the last time, but something tells her that this is not the case with Hansol. She closes her eyes, venturing into the shape of his mouth to trace it like the map she should have followed a long time ago.

For now, she’ll get lost in him, in the way he makes her feel like she’s the newest star in the sky and he’s drawing it himself. Calling her something that goes unnamed for now.

The word ‘for now’ is so funny. It prolongs in time, so much that three months turn into six, and then, an entire year.

She had said that Hansol’s idea was a ‘for now’. That him, as a person, was temporary as it gets, but the clock was making fun of her as she rushes to his car, holding onto the coldest coffee she could get at this hour of the morning. Some people feel comfortable, not because they are colored certain way or how they make you feel, but what you two make together. Blue and green are colors on their own, but together they make something different. The creation of new matters is what makes the world a little bit more interesting.

Hansol doesn’t enjoy mornings, not after a short night of sleep, and that may be her fault, but with the way he smiles at her when she opens the car’s door, she’s sure he has forgiven her. For how great they felt last night, she’s sure that there were no grudges held. A camera is pointed her way, though she knows that the second season of their show is still being published on her channel and, no way in hell, he would ever post the videos he takes of her. Little vlogs to remember what it was like here, now, forever. God, forever sounds amazing with Hansol.

“Here we have a whole coffee addict, making her way to my sick Porsche.”

“It’s a Toyota, Hansol. Sit the fuck down.” She completes, entering the car and pushing her hair over her shoulder, leaning over the seat to let him taste the coffee. That makes the camera a little too close to her face, laughing and pushing it to the side the slightest. “I’m sure I don’t look that good in that angle.”

“You don’t, but real love will make me say you do.” He completes, sipping a few more times into her coffee before giving it back to her. He has the hood of his shirt all the way over his dark hair, turning off the camera and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he starts the car.

Talking about their relationship in public was forbidden, for she doesn’t want to blur the line in between the faux relationship and what became real. In fact, it happened with its bumps along the road. She can’t say that everything has been easy, that sometimes her nightmares don’t wake her up with the idea of Hansol leaving one day, or not precisely leaving her, but stomping on her heart before he flees away, but that idea alone is pushed away with a served kiss and a few words that save her from doubting. Hansol is not much of a talker and yet, when he opens those lips of his, he always seems to say the right thing.

So, while the subscribers have never gotten a real video of them admitting to their relationship, it’s almost public notice. She sips on her drink, looking at his profile and the tranquility of him before asking.

“So, I saw a Tweet not too long ago. As I was waiting for coffee, actually.”

“From who?” His voice grows serious, expecting to hear anything from Jay or anyone else on the internet, but she calms him down by interlocking their fingers together, tracing the small promise ring on his finger with her thumb.

“From a subscriber that wanted to point out our supposed beginnings.” She likes looking at those conspiracies from time to time. They are so ridiculous that she can’t help but be amused by how close and obsessed people can get from someone they saw on the internet. Well, as long as it’s kept like a good momentum on someone’s life, and they know not to blur the line, she’s sure it’s okay. “The first picture you liked of me was on April 18th, three years ago. It was a picture of me on my desk, looking down at my I-Pad as I drew, working on my next video.”

Hansol twists his head to the side, laughing to himself a bit before nodding. “I remember that picture.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He looks at her for a fraction of a second before bringing their interlocked hands up, giving it a soft kiss. “Your hair was shorter then. Way shorter. I thought you were pretty.”

“Sometimes, I wish I had met you earlier.”

“Huh, earlier wasn’t our time, I guess.” Hansol responds, letting go of her hand to grab her coffee.

Holding her breath, she looks at his sleepy profile. At him as a person. It has been so long and yet, the words don’t weight on her mouth when she opts to mumble it for the first time:

“I love you, Hansol.”

His eyes twinkle when she says those words, spreading a smile into his face that show all his teeth before he gnaws at his bottom lip.

“I love you, too.”

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

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13 ways to propose | j.wonwoo

# genres & pairings: best friends to lovers to getting engaged, wonu calls reader “love”, lots and lots of fluff bc i love this couple sm, a little plot twist toward the end

# warnings: there’s a brief misunderstanding where reader thinks wonwoo is cheating (which is absolutely not the case) but it gets resolved quickly # word count: 4.1k

# author’s note: this is the sequel to 19 signs you’re unofficially dating but it can be read on its own !! also in case no one actually knew . . . yes both of the titles are based on real wikiHow links lol

# a glimpse: the one where wonwoo wants to propose but things don’t always go according to plan

It’s one of those rare restless nights where Wonwoo’s in bed by your side yet somehow can’t quite fall asleep. Your head on his chest with an arm wrapped around him, your eyes closed and he wants nothing more than to just lay here forever. Wonwoo sees your left hand devoid of any jewelry and there’s a question that’s been on his mind for far, far, far too long now.

“Soon,” he thinks to himself with a smile, “Soon there’ll be a weight resting on that hand of yours and a question for him to ask.”

You see, Jeon Wonwoo is a well-organized man who prides himself on rationality and logic. He’s got it all planned down to the minute, the manner in which he’ll ask that four-worded question to you the way that you deserve. However, life and love have a tendency to throw obstacles in the way, and perhaps it’s inevitable—the changes of time, a lack of control, a sudden burst of spontaneity. Jeon Wonwoo doesn’t know it tonight (not just yet, but he’ll find out soon enough) things don’t always go according to plan.

He’s been planning this proposal for months now. Making the effort to keep a carefully written itinerary updated on his phone. There’s a whole process to this, a way to do this right, and Wonwoo’s well aware that you deserve the best proposal he has to offer. There’s a guide of sorts that’s helped him out—an article titled “13 ways to propose” on wikiHow.

NUMBER ONE: CHOOSE A MEANINGFUL LOCATION

Perhaps planning the location was what stumped Wonwoo the most. There are a lot of places that come to mind like the cafe where you both had your first date or perhaps on the trail you two often go for a walk on. But there’s just something about the locations, they don’t quite feel right. The cafe feels a little too casual with too many people and the trail feels too empty. Special days between you two are typically spent dressing up and going out and with an important date coming up, Wonwoo plans to go all out to woo you.

Mingyu’s opened up a new restaurant lately and the two of you have yet to visit.

With a little help from friends and family, Wonwoo could very well get it decorated to his standards and surprise you.

NUMBER TWO: PICK THE RIGHT TIME

Is there ever truly a right time for things?

There’s a day Wonwoo thinks fondly about, the day the both of you finally acknowledged your feelings and confessed. With your anniversary coming up soon, it’s an opportunity that can’t be missed.

NUMBER THREE: KEEP YOUR PARTNER’S PREFERENCES IN MIND

A public proposal isn’t entirely either of your vibes and Wonwoo doesn’t want the proposal to happen in front of a bunch of strangers. If he had things his way, he’d much rather it just be the two of you but knowing you the way that he does, it’d be good to have your family around. A more private setting with a few chosen people is a good compromise and he makes a mental note to get everyone’s help once everything has been finalized.

NUMBER FOUR: DON’T BE AFRAID TO CHALLENGE EXPECTATIONS

It’s not that Wonwoo is afraid to challenge expectations but rather, love and impulsivity challenge his own.

NUMBER FIVE: FOLLOW CULTURAL TRADITIONS

Wonwoo’s well aware that he technically already does have your family’s permission to marry you but if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do this properly and officially ask for permission. Though he’s known your parents his entire life, there’s still that sense of nervousness coursing through his veins. He’s dressed nice enough he figures with a pair of trousers and a dress shirt. It’s not the first time he’s stood in front of your parent’s house given that the place has always served as a second home for him during his younger years—well, perhaps third? Yes, third would be a more fitting place as to where this house stands in his heart now. There’s his own parent’s house taking second place. Within those walls are laughter and loss and a story for another day—Home, his real home. The one full of love and safety and silly little arguments is where- it’s not a place, Wonwoo realizes. It’s not a place because home is you. Regardless of whether the place you both inhabit is a two-bedroom apartment or a house for your future children to inherit, his home rests wherever you are.

“Wonwoo-ah?” The familiar voice draws Wonwoo out of his thoughts and he’s faced with your mother by the door. “Come in!” she says with a smile.

Asking your parents for permission to marry you goes by smoother than he expects. There’s nothing for them to object with how Wonwoo has been by your side for most of your life and they’re well aware that he’s a good man.

When he enters the apartment that night, he hears the sound of music playing, and the scent of something good cooking in the air. He heads to the kitchen after taking off his shoes and there he sees you wearing one of his shirts. It’s a sight he comes home to, often, and one he deems a privilege he’s lucky enough to witness.

“Love,” he calls out, the familiar nickname leaving him with ease.

“Where have you been?” you ask. Wonwoo’s not entirely sure how to respond to the question. He doesn’t mean to lie, truly he doesn’t. After all, your relationship has been built on the basis of trust and honesty. But a part of him knows that if he were to reveal he was with your parents then that would raise suspicion on your end and he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“I was with the guys.”

You feel Wonwoo’s hands make their home on your waist, your boyfriend completely unaware of the thoughts running through your head. You’re not entirely sure how to take in Wonwoo’s statement—it’s not true, he wasn’t “with the guys” because just a few minutes ago... Seungcheol called to ask if you knew where your boyfriend was.

“Did you eat dinner?”

“Nah, I wanted to eat with you. I’m gonna get changed first.” Wonwoo leans in to kiss you once, twice, then three times. It’s a habit he’s formed lately, one of the ways he utters “I love you” without actually speaking the words out loud.

NUMBER SIX: PICK A RING IF YOUR PARTNER WOULD LIKE ONE

“Wonwoo-ah, it’s perfect!” your mom says excitedly. There’s a sigh of relief that escapes him at your mother’s approval for the ring.

“Really, you think so?” The ring was entirely customized and designed by him on the more simplistic side, however, not entirely traditional. In the center rests your birthstone and branching out from the center is a combination of small diamonds and his own birthstone.

“You did good, trust me.” He’s glad that your mother has been so supportive of this whole process and journey given that his own couldn’t be here. For as long as he could remember, your mother has been a second mom to him.

Once home after picking up the ring, he realizes that there isn’t really a good place to hide it. Keeping it in your shared bedroom would be too much of a risk given that you could easily find it yet keeping it in his car feels a little too unsafe. The ideal place for its safekeeping is somewhere within his reach yet out of yours and he decides on keeping it in the office. It’s more of a shared office space between you two where he completes work from home at times and you’ve got the items for your hobbies as well as a shelf full of books. However, Wonwoo uses the office the most and you don’t often come in. Banking on that, Wonwoo disguises the engagement ring in a cardboard box to disguise it as a package near his desk.

It started off as a nice day when it happens—the argument blows out of proportion between you and Wonwoo that is. You’ve decided to do some much-needed spring cleaning around the apartment and have done every part of the apartment save for the office.

“I can clean the office on my own, love,” Wonwoo says. It’s entirely unlike your boyfriend to say such a thing when he typically prefers that you do things together.

“What, why? We always clean it together.”

“It’s a lot of work and most of the mess is mine anyway.”

“We’re a team, we’re supposed to do things together.”

“I use it more than you do, love. I can clean it on my own,” There’s a sense of panic that fills Wonwoo at the thought of you finding the engagement ring he’s kept in the office but he realizes that he’s taken things too far when he utters the words, “It’s my office.”

“Fine have it your way!”

“Love, that’s not- I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sorry.” Wonwoo goes after you as you head into the bedroom.

“What the hell are you hiding?”

“Nothing?” Even Wonwoo doesn’t seem so sure about his statement.

“You lied. Last week when you told me you were out with the guys, you lied.”

“What? Wait- how did you find that out?”

“It doesn’t matter! With the way you’ve been acting lately, I know you’re hiding something!” Wonwoo grows quiet and suddenly, there’s a realization that draws upon you. “Are you- are you cheating on me?”

“What? No, would you think that?”

“Then where were you that night?”

“I can’t say.”

“Then I can’t sleep in the same bed as you tonight.”

“Love, I-”

“I’m sleeping in the living room.” You’re off to grab some blankets and a pillow but Wonwoo takes your hand before you can.

“Lo-” he stops himself from speaking the nickname because, in this moment, he doesn’t have the right to use the nickname. You watch as Wonwoo’s features soften, an apologetic look settling on his face. “Let me sleep in the living room, take the bed please.”

You decide not to argue with your boyfriend about this, simply squeezing his hand once, twice, then three times in a silent reassurance that you’ll get through this together if not right now then soon enough.

The hours go by a little unsettling—you can’t sleep without Wonwoo’s warmth. You know that he’d never cheat on you the fact that you even said it out loud has you regretting how things went down. It’s nearing 2 am when you finally decide to get out of bed and head over to your boyfriend. Wrapping yourself in a blanket and bringing it with you, it comes as a surprise when you see that Wonwoo is still awake.

“You’re still up?” you ask.

“I- yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Ok.” You both settle on the couch and with Wonwoo on top of you, it’s silent. It isn’t until a few moments later that you feel him trembling in your arms, head resting in the crook of your neck.

“I’m not cheating, love, I am so, so, so sorry if I did or said anything that would make you think such a thing. You can do anything, go through the office, look through my phone, anything that’ll ease your worries. Please, I just- I’m sorry.” You take in the sight of your boyfriend with messy hair, a red nose, and tears falling from his eyes. You try your best to gently pat the tears away.

“I don’t want to look through your things, hon. I respect your privacy. But we need to talk this out.”

“I went over to your parent’s house that night,” he admits. He goes through his phone and shows you the screen, revealing a selfie of him and your parents and sure enough, the date lines up. There’s a sigh of relief that escapes you at the truth Wonwoo tells.

“I’m sorry that I jumped to conclusions.” Wonwoo shakes his head in response and clears his throat.

“It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have lied in the first place.”

“Can I ask why you went there without me?”

“I wanted to talk to them to ask for permission to marry you.” It takes a moment for the weight of Wonwoo’s words to register in your head.

“You wanna marry me?”

“Of course I do.” Wonwoo leans in to kiss you.

Once.

Twice.

Then three times.

And it feels like everything will be alright.

NUMBER SEVEN: ASK OR HIRE SOMEONE TO TAKE PICTURES

The proposal is set to happen over dinner, the two of you seated in a private corner of the restaurant but your friends and family at tables around you for it to be a surprise. With the number of people enlisted to be present, there’ll be enough people to record the moment. He’s a little nervous, thinking about all of the eyes that’ll be watching. Granted it is friends and family and he knows they won’t judge him but still- to bare all of his feelings out in the open for everyone to witness feels frightening.

Regardless, he’ll push through.

NUMBER EIGHT: PLAN TO SPEND QUALITY TIME TOGETHER AFTER THE PROPOSAL

After the proposal, there are a number of ways that things could go. Of course, you’ll end up spending time with your friends and family there for the proposal but he plans for when it’s just the two of you. He does some research and books a night at a nice hotel for that extra romance.

NUMBER NINE: PRACTICE WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY

It’s a little hard for Wonwoo to find the proper time and place to practice what it is that he wants to say during the proposal. After all, he can’t just openly practice his speech during work hours nor he can’t say it at home when you’re within earshot. Sometimes he’ll practice on the drive to work—trying his best to recount each and every word.

Though, if he’s being honest with himself there aren’t any words worthy of conveying the love you’ve offered throughout the years.

He’s in the bathroom one night, having just gotten out of the shower and wearing a pair of sweatpants while rehearsing (read: mumbling out) his speech. There’s a knock on the door that draws him out of his thoughts, the sound of your familiar voice greeting his ears.

“Wonu?” you call out.

Did you hear?

At the sudden intrusion, he drops his phone and in an attempt to catch it accidentally hits his arm on the counter. A string of curses escapes his mouth as he brings a hand to his arm and the door opens.

“I’m ok!” he manages to say.

“Stay here, I’ll get you something to ice it!” Once you’ve got a package of frozen vegetables wrapped in a towel, you tell Wonwoo to sit on the counter.

“Love, I’m not gonna sit on the counter,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Sit on the counter, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, you don’t have to-”

“Wonwoo, sit on the damn counter.” Your boyfriend can tell that there’s no changing your mind and eventually does as you say. He’s even taller than usual with him seated on the bathroom sink counter but it’s not very often you get the chance of fuss over him. You place the makeshift ice pack on his arm, having to hold back a laugh at the way he pouts a little. “Does it hurt?”

“Kind of,” he admits. You’re standing in between Wonwoo’s legs, a sigh leaving your lips.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Is everything ok? You’ve been weird lately,” you mumble as you lean up to offer Wonwoo a kiss.

“Our anniversary’s coming up, love,” he comments.

“What do you wanna do?”

“I was thinking we could go shopping during the day and head to that cat cafe you’ve been wanting to visit. We could end off with dinner at Gyu’s restaurant and spend the night in a hotel.” While you are thankful for your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness, it’s not fair for you two just be doing things that you like.

“Why don’t we stay in for the day?” you offer. “We can have a lazy day together and relax.”

“It’s our anniversary, we should do something.”

“Spending time with you is something that I want.”

“I wanna go out for a change.” Though you’re not entirely convinced, you decide to go along with it.

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

NUMBER TEN: PICK A NICE OUTFIT

The outfit Wonwoo has planned to wear for your anniversary isn’t entirely a very fancy one. Wearing a full-on suit would be a bit of a giveaway but a white turtleneck and some trousers feels classy enough. It’s a special occasion—as is any anniversary—and he even has a bouquet of flowers reserved for pickup for the morning to surprise you with along with some other gifts.

NUMBER ELEVEN: ENJOY THE MOMENT INSTEAD OF WORRYING

When it comes the night before your anniversary, Wonwoo finds himself less nervous than he thought. There’s just something about you—perhaps it’s the familiarity of your presence or the entirety of your being that has Wonwoo feeling a sense of safety with you.

NUMBER TWELVE: POP THE QUESTION

The question that’s been lingering on Wonwoo’s mind isn’t asked the way he planned. You’re both in bed, doing your own little thing next to each other and he happens to be reading a book while you’re on your laptop. It’s a common occurrence for the two of you to stay up together and today seems to be no different.

“Wonu,” you call out. Immediately, his attention turns away from the book and settles on you.

“Mhm?”

“Happy anniversary,” you say with a smile. Wonwoo glances at his phone realizing that it’s midnight and there’s a smile that makes its way on his own face. He leans in to kiss you.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“Happy anniversary, my love.”

“I wanna show you something, look.” You shift your laptop toward him and what he sees is a little unexpected. Printed on a canvas is the title “Recipe for a Happy Marriage” and the list includes things like:

“4 cups of love.”

“Add forgiveness and patience as needed.”

“Garnish with a kiss.”

What really gets to Wonwoo is the way it states “Cook for a lifetime” toward the end. It truly is cheesy, something so trivial and almost endearingly stupid yet it only has his heart racing at the thought of it all.

Going furniture shopping and decorating a house with you.

Eventually starting a family should the time comes.

To be fully and completely yours the way he’s always longed to be.

And oh…

“It’s so cheesy isn’t it?” you ask.

“It’d be good for our kitchen when we get married.”

“Will you marry me?” you utter the question so casually. As if you’re asking him what place to order takeout from for dinner or what new colored blanket to buy. The question doesn’t quite fully process in his mind yet the following words instinctively come out.

“Of course, I will.” The last thing he expects is the little velvet box you reveal, a ring settled inside.

“Give me your hand.” Wonwoo freezes, eyes darting from the black box to your eyes not quite sure what to think.

“You’re proposing to me?”

“Mhm.”

“No!” He doesn’t intend for the word to come out the way that it does—all rude as if marrying you is something he doesn’t want to do. The saddened and surprised look on your face breaks his heart and he’s quick to try and rectify the situation. He exhales a deep breath, taking your hand in his. “I didn’t mean no as in no I won’t marry you. I just- it’s, I had a plan for today.”

“A plan?”

The thought of “THIS ISN’T THE RIGHT TIME!” echoes in Wonwoo’s head. It’s supposed to happen approximately 19 hours from now according to his plan—Wonwoo expected this all to enact according to plan. During a time when all of your friends and family are present to capture the moment in a place with a view that’s supposed to make you swoon. It’s not supposed to happen at ass o’clock in the morning when you’re both far too sleep deprived and dressed in PJs and mismatched fluffy socks.

Maybe there’s never really a right time for anything is there?

And things don’t always go as expected, right?

He opens the nightstand drawer, taking out the ring box.

The weight of a promised lifetime feels just a tad bit heavier than Wonwoo remembers but perhaps that’s the nerves getting to him.

“I had a whole proposal planned for tomorrow… well? Technically later at Mingyu’s restaurant,” he admits. “There was a whole speech I’ve been practicing but- I just, I can’t even remember most of it now because I’m nervous. But I love you. I have always loved you to a point where I can’t remember a time when I didn’t. We’ve been together our entire lives and this ring… the ring just, it kinda makes things a little more official. I still wanna propose later and show you the ring then but it’s- hell yeah, I’ll marry you.” There’s a rush of emotions coursing through you, words unable to fully convey what it is that you’re feeling so you lean in to kiss your boyfriend (read: fiancé). When you look up at Wonwoo, you realize that tears have started to fall from his eyes so you lightly pat them away with your sleeve.

“I love you, Wonu.” He leans in to kiss you.

Once.

Twice.

Three times after you place the ring on his finger.

“I can’t believe you proposed to me.”

“I thought it was kinda dumb that guys don’t usually get an engagement ring. It’s kinda unfair that I get to wear a wedding ring and an engagement ring but you’d only be wearing one. I was thinking of changing things up and planning to propose to you because my man deserves to be proposed to on our anniversary. I felt like you’d be shy if there were people around us so here we are.” Wonwoo wraps his arms around you tighter, a warmth settling over his heart at how thoughtful you are.

“When I propose later please pretend to be surprised,” he mumbles out. There’s a pout on his face you just want to kiss away but you settle for placing a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t think you won the woo-ing just yet, love,” he adds.

NUMBER THIRTEEN: TALK ABOUT THE FUTURE WITH YOUR PARTNER

It’s your anniversary night and the wave of excitement is still settled over you and Wonwoo as you enter the hotel room he’s reserved. Admittedly, things don’t really feel much different—you’ve known each other for so long and have been together your entire lives that the ring only confirms what it is that you hope for the future.

“How many kids do you wanna have?” you find yourself asking out of curiosity.

“However many you want,” comes Wonwoo’s genuine response.

“What if I didn’t want any?”

“Then I’d get a vasectomy.” It’s a genuine statement on Wonwoo’s end and you can’t help but smile, resting your face in the crook of his neck.

“I want at least two kids. It’d be a shame not to pass down your genes. So at least one human child and then we could adopt a cat or a dog, I don’t know yet.” There’s a chuckle that leaves Wonwoo and the rumble of his chest is an all too comforting feeling.

“Sounds good to me, love.”

# author’s note: thinking ab writing the wedding day of this couple . . . there’s already a scene in my drafts for it but i make no promises. there’s also a wikihow titled something similar to 12 steps on how to find a home which would make a cute addition but again . . . no promises 😭

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

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good things from bad days

✧ jun x reader

✧ summary: jun returns to the apartment after you've texted him that you've had a bad day. seeing you drunk, jun decides to take care of you like you've taken care of him. only you are much more honest with your feelings when you're not sober.

✧ wc is approx 5.6k

✧ genre: roommates-to-lovers; fluff, comedy; pining when you know the person you're pining for also loves you; basically in an relationship and the only ones who don't know are you two; extreme domesticity; knowing someone; drunken confessions; grumpy reader x sunshine jun, but only hints of it; jun is a huge fucking simp

✧ notes: this is not edited. despite jun being sober while reader is drunk, he doesn't do anything that takes advantage of this. this is ultimately: we've loved each other for five years and you admitting you're in love with him while drunk gives jun the push he needs. drink responsibily, kiddos.

✧ drabble sequel here!!!!!

When you had texted Jun that you were having a bad day, Jun didn’t quite know what to expect. You had your fair share of bad days, unfortunately; Jun wished every day was filled with nothing but happiness and contentment for you, but he was just one man and couldn’t fight the whole world.

(Once, when you were having a bad day, a barista had nearly made you cry. She had given you a once-over, looking you up and down after you gave your order. Then she gave a little huff, irritated, before turning around and walking away.

Jun didn’t throw a punch at the barista because 1) she was, at the most, eighteen, and 2) it just wasn’t in his personality to do so. But he did leave a negative review and said he found a hair in his drink.)

Today had started out good, he had thought. But then around noon he got a message about your boss, and then twenty minutes later you were saying that you just wanted to be home, that you couldn't take another minute at work. His heart had broken, reading that.

But Jun did what he did whenever he noticed you were looking particularly sad. He went out and bought a bouquet of flowers, stopped at the little Chinese place that knew the both of you by name. Left a fiver at the little shrine in the back of the restaurant, placed his palms together, asked for your health and happiness, just as he always did whenever the two of you stopped.

“Say hi to your lover for me!” Auntie Meilan waved, grinning at him. “Bring them in next time!”

“I will!” Jun called back, saluting and neglecting to correct the Auntie that no, you weren’t his lover, you were just his longtime roommate that he had been in love with for far too long.

That was all.

Night had long fallen on the city, street lights dim and headlights bright. Jun hated getting off this late. He hated it because it meant he missed out on the normal mealtime for the both of you, and he knew that instead of you just making food for yourself or even making a meal and saving some of it in the fridge for him to have later, you would hold off on eating altogether until he got home so the two of you could share dinner and talk about your day.

Which was why he volunteered to grab food.

Jun’s stomach grumbled as he walked to the car, and if he was a lesser man he would’ve torn open the takeout box and ate his portion right then and there. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. No matter how hungry he was.

“You wouldn’t be so hungry if you actually ate a meal at lunch instead of just eating those shrimp chips you like so much.” You had said once, watching as Jun tore open a container of cherry tomatoes and began eating them whole as soon as he walked through the apartment door.

He had gasped dramatically, and still chewing the cherry tomatoes, scolding you. “How dare you talk about my precious chips as if they’re nothing more than a mere snack! They’re in a league of their own, they deserve an entire meal dedicated to them --”

“Okay, shrimp boy,” you had amended, your brow furrowing in adorable concern. You had rounded the island and went to the cupboard, withdrawing with a box of pasta. “Hold your horses and I’ll whip up some pasta. Don’t make yourself sick on those.”

The smell of takeout permeated the car, to the point where Jun couldn’t even smell it over the vanilla scentsy you had gotten him. It took far too long for Jun to get to the apartment, and every time the light switched to red Jun wanted to just slam his foot down on the pedal and speed through the intersection.

But he didn’t.

The man with the french bulldog was walking the dog around the parking lot when he pulled in, and gave Jun a short wave in greeting. Spotting the takeout bags in Jun’s hands, he called out, “Must be your night to make supper!”

Ignoring how misogynistic that seemed and how Jun was the one to primarily make your meals, Jun gave the man a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, haha. Nothing like takeout on a Friday night!”

“Tell your sweetheart I said hi!”

Again neglecting to correct the man, Jun made his way into the building. He greeted the old woman who always sat in the foyer because you always greeted her, remembering how you once commented on how she must live alone or feel lonely, to spend her entire day in the front watching people come and go.

Jun took the elevator on the right, despite knowing that you didn’t trust that particular elevator and all the squeaking and moaning it did. He felt bad for the next person who would use the elevator, knowing they would smell nothing but delicious Chinese food.

As Jun shoved his key into the hole to unlock your apartment door, he got the distinct feeling that something was off. He didn’t know how he knew, but Jun knew without even stepping foot into the apartment that something was wrong.

This didn’t dissuade him; instead he hurried in, calling out for you as soon as the door was open.

“I’m home! Food is acquired and ready for consumption as soon as you are!”

He kicked off his shoes, ignoring the shoe rack you had insisted on buying, and made his way to the kitchen. He set the takeout on the island, peering around the apartment for you.

As it was Friday, the apartment was slightly a mess. Socks littered the floor, and Jun spotted your pants near the corner of the couch. He entered the space, noting the nearly-empty bottles of vodka and pineapple juice. There was an empty bag of chips -- his shrimp chips.

He called out your name again, rounding the couch. The living room blankets were in complete disarray, and your laptop was propped up on the coffee table. There were a few crumbs on the couch, and Jun spotted a muffin wrapper on the floor.

“Wen Junhui!”

Arms were suddenly around his middle, pulling him back and squeezing. Jun immediately knew it was you, and turned in your arms. You were already grinning up at him, slightly too-wide and with eyes that glittered brighter than usual.

“Junnie,” you whined, pitching forward and burrowing your face into his chest. Bewildered, but slowly coming to a realization, Jun wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you to him. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” he agreed. You tightened your grip around his waist, leading him into a swaying motion. “Are you okay?”

You pouted, resting your chin on his chest in order to look up at him. “No. I had a bad day. And I’m drunk.”

You may be drunk, Jun acknowledged, but you were no less beautiful than when he left you. You were smiling at him like he was your favorite person on the planet, as if he was the person most dear to you, as if he was someone you treasured and loved, and Jun couldn’t help but giggle and bend down to press a swift kiss to your forehead.

“Yes,” he laughed a little. “You are drunk. I brought food home.”

You gasped, mouth gaping and eyes widening dramatically. “For me?”

“For you!”

Squealing, you burrowed your face into his chest. He hoped you couldn’t hear the way his heart was threatening to leap from it. “You’re amazing! You’re the bestest!”

Squeezing you one last time, Jun reluctantly pulled himself away. While he loved hugging and loving you, and would gladly do nothing but that for days on end, you were drunk and vulnerable. “No, you’re the bestest.”

You frowned at him as he untangled himself, whining. Jun couldn’t help but coo at you, reaching out and pressing your cheeks together. You were so fucking cute.

“Noooo,” you protested, hands reaching up to cover his. “Youuuuuu!”

“I greatly disagree,” Jun said. He pressed another kiss to your forehead and pulled away. He rounded you, hands going to your shoulders, and began guiding you towards the kitchen.

Jun was careful to make sure you didn’t hit a hand or foot on the couch leg, gentle and slow enough to ensure you weren’t going to stumble. All the while you were chattering to him, telling Jun about a show you had watched as a child.

“I don’t know that show,” he admitted, guiding you to sit down at the island. He left your side to return to the takeout, pulling the boxes out of the bag and setting them on the counter. He then went to the dishwasher and pulled out chopsticks. “I grew up in China, remember?”

“Ooh,” you said, eyes wide. It reminded him of Bambi, almost, how innocent and sweet you seemed like this. You were always sweet, he knew, but there was something especially child-like about you when you were like this. “I forgot.”

Jun set your chopsticks in front of you. He then went to the cupboard and withdrew two cups, quickly filling them with water and setting them down on the island. “It’s okay. We can always watch that show later.”

You nodded somberly, puffing out your cheeks. He couldn’t help but grin at how intently you were watching him open up the takeout boxes, your eyes taking in his every move. Jun picked up his chopsticks and clicked them at you once, watching your eyes focus, before reaching for the box of noodles.

“Hey!” You snapped, reaching out and smacking his hand. Jun startled, dropping a blob of noodles on the counter. “Where did you grow up! In a barn? We use plates when eating in this apartment, young man!”

“Yessir!” Jun returned, roughly saluting at you. He stood up and went to the dishwasher, and when he set down two plates you gave him a sharp nod of approval.

“Good.” You glanced down at the mess of noodles. Frowning, you hopped down from the barstool.

“Where are you going?”

“To clean up your mess, Mr. Junhui,” you slurred, rounding the island to grab paper towels. He couldn’t help but laugh at the serious look on your face, as if he had committed a serious wrong.

He was going to clean it, of course, after your meal. But he said nothing as you walked to his elbow and leaned against his arm, reaching and collecting the fallen noodles. “Dirty boy.”

Jun nodded, still smiling. “Yes, I’m a dirty boy, aren’t I?”

You returned his nod, still serious. “But you’re my dirty boy.”

Suddenly feeling his heart warm with affection and adoration, Jun inclined his head. “Yes. I’m your boy.”

Satisfied, you tossed the noodles and paper towel into the sink and returned to your seat. You brought the plate between yourself and the boxes, and Jun watched as you, very carefully, lifted your chopsticks and grabbed the box of sesame chicken.

Even as the two of you ate, you were speaking. Jun listened as you talked about this woman at work who did nothing but complain about her children and husband, but then also said she was trying for a fourth, and how you didn’t think she had ever said a single nice thing about her family since you’ve met her.

Then you were frowning seriously at Jun, pointing at him with your chopsticks. “We won’t end like that no matter what, right, Junnie?”

“Right, darling.”

You set your chopsticks down on the table, reaching out with your other hand. Your hand wrapped around Jun’s cup and brought it to your lips. “Wait -- that’s my cup, I’ve already drank from it, it has my cooties.”

Jun watched you pause for a few seconds, eyeing him over the rim of the cup. And then you raised it to your lips and gulped it.

“There,” you said, sighing in satisfaction. “Now I have your cooties.”

You then opened up the steamed vegetables, delight taking over your features. Jun continued eating as you shifted through the vegetables, picking out the broccoli and placing each piece on his plate. Jun ate them dutifully, shoving each piece into his mouth.

“Careful,” you scolded, “you’ll choke.”

Jun watched as you then set down your chopsticks on the counter, the metal clinking against the surface. You pointed at him, peering at him with an extremely serious look on your face that didn’t really suit the situation and had Jun fighting to keep his smile off of his face.

“Listen here, Wen Junhui,” you slowly began, brows furrowing. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to not stuff your mouth. But I’m serious. Choking is not a joke. It’s not fun. Have you ever been choked before?”

You had begun gesturing with your hands during your little speech, and at the end of your statement you waved your hand and sent your cup tumbling.

Jun jumped up, rushing for the paper towels and rounding the island. You were blinking at the water even as it dripped into your lap, and Jun shoved away the cuteness of how you looked, confused and taken aback, and ushered you off the stoll.

“Oh,” you mumbled, moving.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, “we just have a small ocean in our kitchen. I’ll clean it up while you get changed out of your pants.”

He spun a few too many towels from the roll, focusing on turning the cup upright and wiping down the counter before moving onto the mess on the floor. You were still muttering to yourself, and it wasn’t until you made a small “oh” sound, followed by the sound of something hitting the wall, did Jun turn around.

You were standing in front of him, legs completely bare and leggings sitting sadly on the floor from where you had thrown them against the wall. For a moment Jun couldn’t help but look -- look at your thighs and take in the shape of them, the color; his eyes trailed down over your knee and to your legs, taking in the spots where you had attempting waxing and given up halfway through, leaving bald patches on your leg surrounded by hair.

But fuck, if he didn’t want to wrap his hand around your leg and guide it around his waist, pull you tight against him and feel your body pressed against his.

“Staring is rude,” you said, flapping your hand towards Jun.

“Mm,” he hummed, turning his back to you. Jun dropped to the floor, beginning on the small puddle that had formed. “I won’t mention all the staring you do at me when I get out of the shower, then.”

“That’s not fair, though,” you argued. Jun stood, knees cracking, and watched as you stomped your foot. The fat of your thighs jiggled at the movement, and he wanted to dig his fingers into your flesh and see how it molded around his digits. “You know what you look like.”

“I do?”

“Irresistible,” you said matter-of-factly.

He echoed you, the word and its implications not really registering with him until he said it himself. And then the little light in Jun’s head flicked on, and he squinted at you.

It wasn’t like you made it a habit to be drunk; you didn’t. In the years Jun’s known you, in the years he’s been your roommate, he’s only seen you properly drunk a handful of times. But he knows what you’re like when you’re drunk: you’re giggly, silly, and honest.

“Alcohol is like a truth serum for me,” you had told him after a few weeks of meeting. “Get me drunk and I’ll tell you anything. It’s why I can’t be President: I’d reveal all the State secrets.”

And sure enough, Jun found out that when you were drunk, you were incredibly honest. He could ask you any question he wanted and you would answer. He had once tested this by asking you if you had ever lied to your grandma before. Sober you had frowned at him and shook your head, saying you had nothing to really lie about; drunk you had bursted into tears, sobbing about how you had lied to her about your whereabouts on your 21st birthday by saying you had been safely drinking with your friends at their apartment instead of being out at clubs.

So: drunk you was as honest as you could get. You weren’t inherently dishonest, but all of the little things you were ashamed of or kept secret bubbled out.

Irresistible.

Truthfully, Jun wanted to poke at this some more. He wanted to ask you to elaborate, and he knew that if he was quiet for much longer you would elaborate yourself.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

It felt wrong doing that. You trusted him. You trusted him when you were sick, when you were drunk, when you were in tears; you trusted Jun when you were at your most vulnerable, and taking advantage of you in this state, even to just question you about your feelings towards him, was wrong.

Jun instead began talking, filling up the empty space with his own chatter in order to get your mind off of him in the shower. He narrated what he was doing as he did it, loudly, speaking everything as it appeared in his mind.

“I’m going to throw away these towels. I know you don’t mind it when I leave wrappers around, because you do it too, but I know you hate it when dirty things are left. Like I remember you scolding Seungcheol for leaving his sweaty undershirt in our bathroom.

“Gosh, I’m going to have to take the trash down next time I leave the apartment. I know you don’t mind doing it, but I also know you don’t like it particularly either. I’m okay with that. You do enough for me, I don’t mind doing this.”

Jun rounded the counter once more, reaching out for you. You went easily, hugging yourself close to him. Despite the alcohol you had drank, you still smelled like you: fresh linen, oranges and lemons, the sort of things that reminded Jun of home. His favorite smells in the world.

He swooped down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, smoothing your hair away from your face. You blinked up at him lazily at the gesture, eyes taking just a moment too long to open. “Ooh, are you my tired baby?”

You hummed, nodding sleepily. Then you opened your eyes, your arms going over Jun’s to wrap around him in return. “Yes. Your baby.”

Jun tapped his hands against your lower back, leading you into a sway. You complied easily, grinning and rocking back and forth. Your warmth was pressed against his front, your weight in his arms a comforting one.

Sometimes he felt selfish for having you like this. Like he was keeping you from someone, like he was wrong for keeping you a secret from the world, keeping you up here in your shared apartment.

Sometimes it felt wrong, leading you into a dance during the late evening, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your forehead. But the thing was, Jun wasn’t stupid.

You didn’t share an apartment with someone for nearly five years without there being something. You didn’t settle into a routine for five years, didn’t spend hundreds of nights pressed together on the couch watching television; didn’t wait up until late in the night for him to return, didn’t welcome his mother and little brother into the apartment with welcoming smiles and hugs.

He didn’t remember the last time you went on a date.

Or: Jun didn’t remember the last time you went on a date that wasn’t with him.

Yes: Jun wasn’t stupid.

He saw it. He saw how you took care of him, how you always made sure his favorite snacks were in the cupboard; how you went out and bought new soles for his shoes when he complained about his back hurting too much; how you looked at him when he wasn’t looking, how your voice always took this gentle tone with him, as if he was someone precious, someone you treasured.

He knew you were in love with him.

Just like he was in love with you.

But actually saying it, actually bridging the gap?

Jun sighed, pulling away. He looked down at you, his darling sweetheart with sparkling eyes. He brushed your hair back away from your forehead. “Let’s go find you some pants, baby.”

You blinked up at him, seemingly unable to process. Then you pouted, lips poking out and eyes furrowing.

Oh, how cute you were --

“‘m not cute,” you childishly protested. You blinked again, and Jun felt his heart plummet when your eyes took on a red hue and tears began to swell.

“Baby!” He gasped, hands moving to hold your cheeks. Jun brushed away the tears that began to drop with the tip of his fingers, feeling concern bubble up within him. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“You just --” A little sob left you, and you threw yourself forward and into his arms. Jun stumbled back at the sudden addition of your weight, his arms wrapping tightly around you. You nuzzled into him. “You just take such good care of me, Junnie.”

Jun chuckled, squeezing your shoulder. “I’m just returning --”

You shook your head against his chest. He reached up and brushed your hair back again, revealing a single red eye and tear tracks on your cheeks. “You don’t understand, Junnie! You -- you’re so good and handsome and sweet and silly, and I love you so much.”

His heart thudded against his ribcage; he was scared it was going to burst from his chest entirely.

Jun smiled down at you nonetheless, cupping your cheek in one of his hands. “And I love you.”

“No,” you shook your head again. “You don’t understand. I love you. Like. Like Captain Ri loves Seri.”

Jun’s heart flew out of his chest and left the building. It fucking flew away, soared through the sky and and rounded the earth. As a matter of fact, it took his brain with him, and the two decided to fly up to the moon and wave at the stars.

“You -- like. Like marry me levels of like?”

“Yes,” you sighed, as if he was dull. “We’re gonna move out of the apartment because we can’t have cats and then move into a little townhouse and adopt two of them so they don’t get lonely, and I’m gonna buy you a ring to match mine and we’ll share a bed and I love you so much.”

Jun’s heart returned to his chest and was fluttering and acting as if it were a butterfly trapped within his ribcage; his brain, however, was still up with the moon and sun.

Then you grinned up at him, tear tracks still visible against your cheeks. “Dude, we should adopt like, twelve cats.”

And he remembered the bottle of nearly-empty vodka, the spilled water, and his sensibilities. You were drunk, and while you were an honest drunk, it wasn’t fair of him to do this.

It wasn’t fair of Jun to pester you further, to make you unravel all your secrets; not when you were vulnerable like this. No matter how much he wanted to, how much he yearned to know about the sincerity of your words, he couldn’t.

Jun pressed a kiss to your forehead again, closing his eyes and exhaling. He felt you mirror him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Love it when you give me kissies,” you mumbled against him.

“Well, I love kissing you.”

You blinked owlishly up at him, mouth agape. “Really?”

He laughed, both hands going to cup your cheeks and hold your face so he could press another kiss to your forehead. “Really, darling.”

Your smile was brighter than any star or sun in the universe. If you were sober, Jun would swoop down and press a kiss to your lips, but alas.

Instead he began guiding you towards your room. “I think we should get some pants on, don’t you? Wouldn’t want you getting cold. I heard that if you get too cold you turn into a penguin, no joke.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” Jun returned, reaching over to turn on the light of your room. Your room was messy, proof of how hard of a time you’ve been having lately. Clothes were strewn about, and your blankets were in a tangled mess. One of your pillows was on the foot of your bed, and your precious stuffed koala Jun had gotten you during one of his and Joshua’s dates to the fair was on the floor.

“People don’t turn into penguins, Junnie,” you said.

“They do if they’re cold,” Jun said. He left you standing in the doorway, moving to your dresser and pulling out a pair of sweats. “That’s how we got penguins. They’re just evolved from cold people.”

You were squinting at him when he returned. Jun held out your pants for a few moments, but you made no move to grab them from him. Finally you took your pants, holding out your hand; he offered his arm, and you held onto Jun as you slowly stepped into your pants one foot at a time.

“I want you to know that I know you’re making this up,” you told Jun.

Jun laughed, shoulders shaking. He ducked his head, blonde bangs obscuring his vision. Your grip on his arm eased, and your other hand was smoothing back his bangs and revealing his eyes once more.

“There you are,” you cooed at him, “my pretty boy.”

Then you yawned, wide enough to where Jun swore he saw down your throat. Despite seeing that, Jun still felt nothing but love for you as you blinked up at him sleepily, smiling like a dope.

“Okay, why don’t you lay down in your bed?” Jun pulled away, capturing your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingers. “I’m going to go get you some water, and then I’ll be back. All right?”

Jun returned to your room a few minutes later, cold cup of water in one hand and headache pills in the other for the morning. Despite the overhead light being on you were splayed out on your bed, face down and limbs going in every direction.

He paused for a second, worried. Then he saw your back slowly move up and down. Assured he hadn’t walked in on a crime scene, Jun continued his way into your room. He set the cup and pills on your bedside table before leaning down and yanking the blankets out from under you.

Grumbling, you rolled over on the bed and allowed Jun to gather the blankets. He took a few seconds to unravel them, and when he did he laid each one over your body.

You hummed in approval as he tucked the blankets around your body, patting your arm and legs as he did so. “All snug?”

“Snug,” you agreed.

Jun grabbed your koala off the ground. He hugged it to his chest, breathing in your scent that had rubbed off on the stuffie. Jun pressed a kiss to the koala’s forehead before setting it on the bed next to you.

Your breathing was completely evened out as he smoothed your hair away from your face. He traced his fingers alongside your temple, your cheek. He ran his pointer finger over your nose, feeling the decline of it. Your lips, feeling the plush flesh give beneath his finger, watching as you subconsciously licked your lips.

God, Jun was a fucking creep.

Jun pressed a kiss to your forehead, finally retreating. He made his way from your bedroom, only pausing when he got to the doorway. Jun hovered his hand over the light switch for a moment, hesitating. And then:

“I love you.”

And the light was switched off.

You were conscious for only a handful of seconds before you were fleeing from the warmth of your bed and sprinting to the bathroom, the pressure of your bladder too great to wait a moment longer.

Jun was laughing loudly through the bathroom door, and you opened it once you were finished washing your hands. Glaring at him, you flicked your still-damp hands at him, splashing him with droplets of water.

“Hey!” He laughed, reeling back a little. His eyes were sparkling, and his pretty pink lips were parted to reveal his grin. “Stop bullying me!”

“You’re the bully,” you mumbled, reaching up and shielding your eyes. Natural sunlight shined through the windows of your living room, reaching into the bathroom and offending your sensitive eyes. You shot Jun a glare as he laughed some more, flicking off the bathroom light and retreating to your room once more.

The sound of footsteps followed you. “I left some medicine by your bed for your headache.”

“Don’t have much of one,” you replied.

“Probably because you’ve slept until three in the afternoon,” Jun returned.

You spun around, eyes wide. Jun was leaning against your door frame, arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his grey t-shirt were rolled up to reveal his biceps, which were constantly gaining size as he increased his visits to the gym. His blonde bangs brushed against his eyes, and you couldn’t help but follow their movement as he flicked his head to get them out of his eyes.

“Three?”

“In the afternoon,” Jun finished. You sat down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs. Jun sat down next to you, though he laid back and let his arms fall above his head. “Should’ve woken me up.”

“I tried, Grumpy,” Jun said. He reached out and tapped you, and you fell back to lay beside him. “Several times.”

“Evidently not hard enough.”

“Next time I’ll play the trumpet, if you want.”

“I guess that’ll work.” You stretched your arms over your head, and when you rested them your pinkie was brushing Jun’s. You tried not to think about it, but every time your fingers brushed it was as if every nerve in your body was concentrated on that one point. “I wasn’t horrible for you last night, was I?”

Jun shook his head. You turned your head slightly to see him already staring at you; when your eyes met, he smiled. “You’re never horrible for me when you’re drunk. Now when you’re sober --”

“Oh, hush,” you said, reaching out and slapping his arm. He let out a small noise of pain, but you ignored it. You shifted onto your side, leaning down and looking at him. “I really didn’t do anything bad?”

Humming, he tilted his head. He moved one hand to rest behind his head, and the other reached up for you. Your eyes fluttered as his hand brushed over your forehead, fingers gliding through your hair. “Nothing bad, but you said some interesting things.”

Fuck.

“Fuck,” you hissed. Your heart began to pick up speed, as if you were standing in front of a thousand people getting ready to perform a song you’d only heard once before. “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry!” Jun assured you, his fingers tracing over the shell of your ear. He pinched the lobe of your ear, causing you to wince. “You only confessed that you found me irresistible. And that you love me like Captain Ri and Yoo Seri love each other.”

You furrowed your brow, watching Jun. He stared up at you, eyes half-lidded, lips twisting into a little grin. He looked perfectly at ease, but at the same time, there wasn’t a single hint of true mischief on his face.

“Did I really?” You asked, voice small.

Jun nodded. His fingers dipped underneath your ear and traced your jaw. “Really. It was cute.”

“And?”

His fingers rested on your chin. He shifted his hand, and then his fingers were brushing against your lips. You let Jun trace your mouth, still leaning over him, heart beginning to calm. Jun’s touch was easing your nerves, and his apparent acceptance and serenity soothed you into following suit.

This was what often happened, you knew. Jun and you were both introverts; you didn’t like new situations. You hated crowds, hated the loudness of them and how close everyone stood together; you hated the unknown. But then when Jun was beside you, his features neutral and seemingly unbothered, it did something to you. It was as if his tranquility tricked your anxiousness, leaked into your soul and tamed the rough seas.

“And,” Jun murmured, “I love you.”

It was like when you found a blanket at the store and sunk your fingers into it, the feeling of smooth softness encompassing your digits completely. But instead of just your fingers it was your entire soul.

It wasn’t a big revelation, you thought; not a huge unknown that needed to be answered.

It was just another fact of life, you figured as you lowered your head to Jun’s. He shifted, elbows pressing into your mattress, raising himself to you. It was just another fact. The sun was yellow, the moon was white, the ocean is big and Wen Junhui loves you.

With your lips pressed to his, you had one last fleeting thought before his mouth consumed yours entirely: now you didn’t have to feel bad about not correcting the Aunties at the restaurant about him being your boyfriend.

1K notes · View notes

sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

Text

chapstick

vernon x gn reader

wc aprox 2.5

summary: cold weather means chapped lips and you are appalled at how your roommate-crush applies his.

notes: gender neutral save for reader having a purse (?) and hansol referring to the reader's chest as boobs. this fic is also just a reminder that vernon is literally just a guy who probably uses 3-in-1. also i didn't reread this/edit it and wrote it at 2am so. yeah.

inspired by those tiktok videos making fun of how boys apply chapstick

The cold autumn wind bit at your bare arms as you and Hansol made your way down the sidewalk. When the two of you had left your apartment the sun had been shining and the breeze soft, warm enough for you to leave your cardigan on the sofa.

Hours later, however, once day had bled into dusk and the street lights turned on, the temperature took a severe dip. You didn’t want to complain, though; Hansol wasn’t done with his errands and you weren’t about to dip out on him.

“That’s why I don’t drive,” Hansol said. “Yes,” you agreed, grinning and nudging your shoulder against his. “Totally not because you can’t pass the test.”

“That too.”

You looked back out to the street, wetting your lips as the wind ate away at them. Autumn and winter were your favorite seasons; you loved cardigans and sweaters and all the other fashion trends that came with cold weather. You didn’t, however, have any love for how the cold air would dry out your lips and skin.

You dug out your chapstick -- vanilla flavored -- and applied it. You paused on the sidewalk, putting the chapstick away. “You’re lucky you have me. You can’t survive on Uber for the rest of your life.”

“I’ll just make it so you can’t ever move out and have to be my roommate forever.” Hansol shrugged out of his jacket. He had layered -- like you, Hansol was a fan of cold weather because of the fashion opportunities it offered. More often than not you would see him layering jackets and hoodies or blazers and hoodies. He had long abandoned the tye-dye hoodie he had worn religiously when the two of you first became roommates but you still had a soft spot for it. It reminded you of the first few months of your relationship, when Hansol was quiet and kept his thoughts to himself.

“Yeah?” “Yeah.” He held out the jacket to you, sliding his phone out of his other pocket. Hansol didn’t look at you. “Take it.”

You blinked. “Sol, it’s your jacket. I should’ve known better than going out in a t-shirt and this is my punishment.”

Hansol lifted his eyebrow and pressed his lips together. “Dramatic.” He shook the jacket at you, unmoving even as a family pushed past the two of you.

Sighing for the theatrics of it, you reached out and quickly pulled the jacket on. It was warm from his body heat and smelled like him. When the two of you first became roommates Hansol had worn exclusively Axe body spray; he still refused any of the fancier stuff that his friend Seungcheol wore, but would tag along with you into Bath and Body Works and grab the body mists that caught your eye.

(Your eye. Hansol would stay at your side and let you roam around the store, picking out scents and sniffing them. The first few times you did that he didn’t even make any move to smell them himself, just dropping them in the basket after you complimented the fragrance. You began protesting whenever he did this, so he would put on a show of smelling the fragrance before putting it in the basket.

You chose not to analyze this too much.)

Hansol stepped into your space once you shrugged the jacket on, his hands going to the zipper. You tilted your chin up and out of the way as he zipped it, ignoring how your heart fluttered at how close he was. You could see every single one of his dark lashes; the soft curve of his eyes. Content, you mapped out his face and let your heart run rampant in your chest, ignoring the sirens going off in your head in favor of just looking at Hansol.

You knew him. You knew how he sniffed his socks before throwing them at the foot of the hamper; knew how he preferred using three-in-one shampoo, conditioner and body soap; knew his bedsheets and blankets were only washed regularly because you had set up a calendar of chores. You knew how he played his music too loudly and sang off-key and without care; but you also knew how sweet he could sound when he sang. You knew how large and warm his hands were; how it felt to fit your body against his and sway as you waited for your meals to cook; how it felt to belt out music at two in the morning with him, heart beating just as loudly as the music played.

You knew all of this about Hansol and still your heart decided to pack up and make its home in his hands. (But what a good place for it to be.)

Hansol glanced up as he fixed the collar, eyes catching yours. Immediately he contorted his face, sucking his lip in underneath his teeth and angling his head so he peered at you from underneath his brow.

You laughed, an obnoxiously loud thing, and pushed him away. “You fucking weirdo,” you giggled, stuffing your hands into the pocket of his jacket.

Hansol laughed along with you, joining you as you began walking again. He moved closer, and you startled when you felt his hand slip in with yours in the jacket pocket. His fingers brushed against yours for a second, the cold of them being out in the autumn air shocking you momentarily. Hansol’s fingers then clasped yours, and your hands joined together as naturally as the sun rose in the morning and set in the evening.

“What’s left for us to do, Mr. Chwe?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The warmth of your apartment seeped into your bones, heating you up from the outside and making its way in. You moaned, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto the sofa. You didn’t move out of Hansol’s jacket, instead burrowing into it further and wrapping it around you.

“I’m going to become one with the couch,” you mumbled, your words muffled by the sofa.

There was the sound of keys hitting the counter and shoes being kicked off and hitting the wall. You half-listened to Hansol as he moved about, nearing you. Until he was at the couch, dropping on top of you and molding his body into yours.

You groaned at the sudden addition of his weight. Hansol wiggled against you until he settled, his socked feet nudging yours and hands making their way into the space between your chest and the couch.

“Thank God for boobs,” he murmured, fingers wiggling against you. “So warm.”

“Fucking weirdo,” you returned, though you didn’t move. He burrowed his face into your hair.

“You smell good.” He took a deep breath. You were glad you were facing the couch; you didn’t know how you would explain your smile to him if Hansol saw. “Like a grandma.”

“What.”

He didn’t elaborate. Instead Hansol’s breathing evened out, fingers and feet shifting. You were content like this. Something pulled at your mind, warmth leaking into it and covering it in fog.

It means something, you thought. At the beginning of your crush on Hansol you were unable to relax around him at all, too nervous to laugh too hard around him in case you snorted (which happened far too often around him), too anxious to touch him. Now his very touch relaxed you; you searched for it in a crowd, and it was as easy and natural as breathing.

It meant something, you knew. It meant something that you were now so comfortable around Hansol that you were able to show every side of you and that you no longer felt the need to hide your undesirable parts.

Your phone chimed somewhere in the room. You didn’t move to get it, and Hansol didn’t move to release you. The two of you continued to lay there, his body on yours. If possible he moved even closer against you, and you faintly wondered if he was trying to combine your bodies into one.

Your phone chimed twice more in quick succession. Groaning, you shifted. “Solie. Need up.”

“You don’t,” he mumbled, though ultimately moving off of you. The both of you yawned as you stumbled off of the couch and towards your purse. “Who is it?”

You hummed, eyes reading over the texts. “Just Seungkwan raging about something Soonyoung did. Apparently Jihoon kicked him out of the apartment for the night so Soonyoung is staying with Kwannie and Seokmin.”

“Amazing.”

You stuffed your phone into the pocket of the jacket, turning back to your crush-roommate. He was slouched against the couch, bangs nearly obscuring his eyes. Hansol licked his lips.

Sighing, you dug into your purse and brought out your chapstick. You moved back to the couch, handing it to Hansol as you plopped next to him. “I feel like in a month we’re going to be testifying on whether we think Seungkwan is capable of murdering Soonyoung and Seokmin.”

Hansol shrugged. “I think Seungkwan secretly loves the chaos Soonyoung and Seokmin bring. He pretends he doesn’t, but he does.”

You watched, half amazed and half bewildered, as Hansol applied the chapstick. He wrapped his entire hand around the wand, like you would a microphone. He then pressed the entire surface of the chapstick flat against his mouth, turning his head to apply it.

“What the fuck are you doing.”

He paused. “Uh. Chapstick.”

“No you’re not,” you snatched the chapstick out of his hand. “If you’re going to misapply chapstick you can use your own. Bert’s Bees deserves better than this.”

Hansol threw you a look, his brows somehow both furrowed and raised. “Really.”

“Yes really.” You demonstrated how chapstick was supposed to be applied, your hand wrapped around the end and using only the sides of the surface, moving your hand instead of your head. “You don’t need to press so hard when applying it either. It’s not like you’re trying to use it all at once.”

Hansol was watching with rapt attention. His eyes were narrowed in on your mouth and fingers, watching as you ran the chapstick over your lips. He licked his lips.

“Your turn,” you said, handing off the chapstick again.

He glanced down at the yellow capsule before looking back at you. Hansol took it and brought it up to his mouth, applying it the same exact way he did before.

“You absolute monster!” You shrieked, moving to hover over him and wrestle the chapstick from his grasp. He laughed, a quick thing that always left you wishing for more. “If you’re not going to do it right, I’ll do it for you.”

You awkwardly angled yourself over him, one arm going to rest on the couch behind him and the other moving to his face. You pressed the tip of the chapstick against his lips right as one of his hands settled against your waist, startling you into dabbing his chin instead of his mouth.

He laughed again and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. Hansol’s other hand went to the other side of your waist and he guided you to instead straddle his thighs, your knees digging into the couch on either side of him. He coaxed you to sit your entire weight on him, one of his hands staying on your waist while the other traveled to the small of your back.

“There,” he said. “Perfect.”

Suddenly you were hyper aware of the world around you. You were all too aware of how close his face was to yours, how his breath hit your face and how close his hand was to your ass. How both his hands felt against you, how he seemed wrapped all around you.

This was ridiculous. You were sitting in your roommate-crush’s lap, getting ready to apply chapstick to his lips as if he was a toddler.

If Seungkwan saw this he would have a meltdown. Forget whatever Soonyoung and Seokmin were doing; this was enough to launch Seungkwan into a week-long rant about your feelings and pining and how disgusting the two of you were.

(You didn’t want to think about what Jeonghan would say.)

(You could hear Junhui cheering from across the city while Minghao rolled his eyes.)

You moved your arms to embrace Hansol fully. One arm wrapped around his shoulders and rested on his jaw, holding his face still. You could feel little pricks of his facial hair against your hand. With your other hand you raised the chapstick to his lips, the tip of your pinkie pressing against his cheek to steady your own hand.

“Pay attention,” you murmured. Speaking any louder would surely break whatever spell had settled over the two of you.

“I am,” he said. “Always.”

Slowly, gently, you applied the chapstick to his mouth. Swiping it back and forth, you watched as it brushed against the flesh of his lips. It was red. His mouth was so red and warm, and you could feel every breath he took against your fingers.

Quickly, far too swiftly for you to fully realize what you were doing, your lips descended and pressed against his. Just as briskly you pulled away, loudly gasping at your audacity.

“What the fuck,” you said. What the fuck what the fuck. “I’m sorry --”

“I’m not,” he said, and then his mouth was on yours again.

His hands moved against you, pulling you flat against him. One of his hands moved to sink into your hair, keeping your head close. Your own hands moved to either side of his face, your mouth dropping open in shock.

This wasn't what you had imagined for your first shared kiss. It was supposed to be soft and sweet, shy and gently bridging the gap between friends and lovers.

This was hot and seemed to light your blood and heart aflame. He was devouring you, mouth quick and biting. Hansol was kissing you as if this was all he had thought of for the years you’ve known each other. As if he was intent on eating you whole.

Then his tongue entered your mouth and pressed against your teeth and you let out the highest moan you’ve ever heard let alone uttered.

Chuckling against your mouth, Hansol pulled away just enough for your lips to brush. You followed against your will, his mouth a magnet, eager to reconnect. He obliged for a moment, teeth biting your lower lip before molding his mouth against it.

“Hansol,” you sighed, “Hansol, Hansol, Hansol.”

He breathed your name back, like it was a secret confession. Maybe it was.

Finally Hansol separated from you fully. When you went to follow he moved his hand to grip your jaw, holding you still. His other hand had slid down to where your shirt had ridden up, fingers swiping against your bare skin. “Okay. So what --”

“I love you,” you whispered. “I love you,” you repeated, louder. “I love you, Hansol. I’m sorry, I should’ve done this better but -- I love you.”

He blinked once. Then twice. And then his face broke into a wide smile. Fuck. It was the sun after rain; rain after drought. It was bright and devastating and you wouldn’t mind going blind if it meant going blind from staring at the brightness of Hansol’s smile.

And then his hands moved once more, framing your face, and his mouth was again on yours.

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

Text

with hurried steps, you comb through the grocery store aisles in search of your boyfriend, vernon.

there’s only one rule when it comes to grocery shopping with him: ‘never leave him alone by himself’. this especially rings true when you’re almost finished with your shopping list and close to lining up at the registers. he always finds some way to sneak a few extra somethings in there if you look away for even a second. but, in this instance, you had no choice after realising that you had to go back and pick up something from the deli section after overhearing the elderly ladies say that the butcher was closed for the day.

the cereal section is where you find him and the relief you feel is immediate, like finding an oasis after being stuck in the desert for days. from afar, you watch curiously as he heavily considers which cereal box to put in the trolley.

the smile on your face broadens as your eyes fixate on the way his head moves to and fro as he reads the nutritional information, the way his left eyebrow raises in question, and the way he nods his head a little in understanding. even more so on the way he bites his lip, the way he tries to shakes off his hair that’s fallen to his eyes and the way he shrugs and laughs to himself as he deposits both boxes in the trolley.

on the way— just all of him really.

he finally spots you and the smile he sends your way has you melting in a puddle and sure that they’ll need a clean up on aisle ten soon.

as you watch, you notice that something seems to shock vernon, his eyes going wide before he ducks his head and hides his laugh behind his hand. you wonder what it is he's shy about this time and you find out what it is when he reaches you, placing his hand under your chin and pushing up to shut your gaping mouth for you.

his eyes turn into crescents and he bends to lean his head on your shoulder, mumbling about kissing you if you don't stop being cute. it's your turn to laugh this time, questioning why he thinks that'll stop you. of course, you want him to kiss you. with a shake of his head, he nuzzles further into you until he reaches your neck and his arms draw you into him. both of you stay like that for a moment, giggling into each other now and then.

suddenly, you wonder if he's doing this to distract you from double checking for things that aren't on your list. vernon asks if it's working and before you can answer, he's kissing you tenderly, while his hands are busy slipping the lolly bags from his jacket pocket into the trolley. he moves to pull away but you drag him in for a deeper kiss, only slightly because you're in public, whispering in between your permission for him to do whatever he wants as long as he keeps kissing you.

this makes vernon laugh again, shaking his head as he pulls away. intertwining your hands together, vernon drags you along as he pushes the trolley towards the check out line and declares that he's definitely gonna marry you one day.

they definitely need clean up on aisle ten.

pls do not copy/repost my work

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

Text

wedding ; jeon wonwoo

genre - fake relationship, friends to lovers, kinda slow burn

wordcount - 8.6k

disclaimers - lowercase on purpose, no proofreading, fic under the cut, female/feminine aligned reader, mentions of alcohol and being drunk

a/n - this one has been in the works for a loooong time, finally got the energy to finish it! hope you enjoy, i put a lot of work into this one. happy holidays! <3

you put down your phone with a sigh. your mother had just given you a call to let you know that one of your cousins was getting married in a month, and your mother wanted to let you know the plan for their wedding early on so you could get started on planning your trip back to your hometown. she gave you dates and dressing codes, and other wedding things that blended together into one blur in your head as you mindlessly responded to your mothers queries and requests.

one of the things she brushed over was the fact that you had to bring a date for the entire wedding. the ceremony, the dinner, the dance, you always had to have someone on your arm. it was a rule that your cousin was apparently very adamant about. in the blur of questions from your mother, you had accidently answered a question that you should have saved for a later time, when you hadn’t been just getting home from a 2 hour long exam.

“so, y/n, you do have a date right?”

“yes, i do.”

your mother gasped, bringing herself to a conclusion that you had not written. “my baby has a boyfriend? oh, how sweet!” her coos were quickly pushed aside when you heard a door creak open on her end of the line, followed by your fathers voice asking her if she was ready for dinner. your mother quickly said goodbye as you pressed the red ‘end call’ button, and the reality of the belief your mother was under finally pieced together in your head.

your family are expecting you to show up at a family gathering with a boyfriend you do not have.

you leaned forward, elbows digging into your knees as you tangled your hands in your hair. every thought of how you could fix this raced through your head at once, but every solution made less sense than the last. in the end, you came to the conclusion that you would have to find someone willing to be your boyfriend for a weekend, which is a statement that is easier said than done.

laughter echoed around the room as you sat on the sofa of hoshi’s apartment with your head in your hands. while you thought the entire situation was simply traumatic, everyone else thought it was hilarious. some of them had pity, but even the sympathetic ones were stifling their laughter as they comforted you.

you couldnt help but laugh along at the absurdity of the entire thing. it was really something that could only happen to you.

“guys, i seriously have no idea what to do! its not like i can just rent a boyfriend for a couple days!” dokyeom was holding onto mingyus arm as he laughed so hard he was out of breath. joshua faked a serious face as he looked towards you. “thats not true, im sure you could rent hoshi for the right price.”

you sighed a dramatic, exasperated sigh as you flopped back onto hoshis sofa, staring at the ceiling as you laughed. the laughter fizzled out and everyone realized it was getting late.

“i should probably get going and try to find a desperate guy who would free up a weekend to go to my cousins wedding with me.” you laughed as you stood up, brushing your hair back behind you. wonwoo stood up with you. “y/n, i could give you a ride home, since its the same building anyways.” you smiled and nodded towards him as you said goodbye to everyone and followed wonwoo to his car.

the ride back to your apartment building was quiet, with the low radio being the only sound filling the car. car rides with wonwoo always had a peaceful silence, never awkward. it was comfortable.

you thought over the sentence a thousand and one times in your head before you finally broke the silence. “uh, wonwoo.. can i ask you, um, a big favour?” you looked down at your hands before looking over at the man next to you, a grin now plastered across his face as he glanced in your direction. “i wonder what this could be?” he said, followed by a chuckle. your ears turned pink as you fiddled with your fingers in your lap, a smile wide on your face to match his.

you took a deep breath before finally asking, “wonwoo, could you be my date to my cousins wedding?” you smiled over at him from the passenger seat, trying your best to look convincing enough for him to say yes. all things considered, something must have worked. “of course i will, it’d be an honour to be your boyfriend for a couple days.” the pink flush on your ears travelled all across your face as you smiled ear to ear. he parked at your apartment complex as you leaned over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “thank you so so so much wonwoo!” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and lightly squeezing as you pulled away and opened the car door. “ill send you all the details when i know all the details,” you told wonwoo as you walked into your apartment building together. he nodded as he pressed the button for the elevator. “hopefully ill be able to impress your family.” you and wonwoo smiled at each other as the elevator door beeped open and you stepped inside.

you sat at your dinner table, a notepad and pen sitting in front of you. your mother had just called and informed you of all the details of the wedding, and you decided that it would make your life easier if you wrote down everything she said this time. she gave you details on where everyone would stay, the timeline of events, and every little thing in between. the phone call had lasted for at least 20 minutes. you had always said, your mother was nothing if not thorough. after overlooking the list in front of you, you picked up your phone and typed a text.

y/n : hey, are u busy rn?

wonu 🐱 : I’m at practice, is everything ok?

y/n : oh yeah its fine, its just stuff about the wedding. call me when you get home :)

wonu 🐱 : Will do. :)

while you waited for wonwoo to finish practice, you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone. as you did, you saw countless pictures of people from your hometown posting pictures with their significant others. you liked their pictures and kept scrolling, but the photos made you feel.. off. since you had moved away from your hometown, you hadnt had any relationships. you had met people, but nothing ever amounted to anything more than a coffee date or a study session at your campus library. you were just always so busy with school and spending time with the boys that you had simply never sought out a relationship in your years of living away from your family. while you were content with your independence, seeing photos of couples happy and in love made you feel left out. not envy, just a feeling of ‘i would be happy with what they have’.

since starting university, romance has been on your back burner to say the least. you had barely considered your own feelings between exams and essays. maybe this was why every time your friends caught someone checking you out, or blatantly flirting with you, your response was always “really? i didnt notice.” your group of friends from university had always been suspicious of your relationship with the 13 men you spend most of your freetime with. they were convinced that if you did end up having a secret relationship, it would be with one of them. you shut down the accusations every time, insistent that they were just friends. and thats all they were. just friends.

breaking you out of your mindless scrolling, your phone rang. you shook out of your daze as you accepted the call. “hey! how was practice?” wonwoo groaned dramatically. “you dont even understaaaand!” you laughed and shook your head at his complaining. “but im sure ill make it. alright, whats the deal with the wedding?” he said, leaving his dramatics behind. “yes! okay, so there is one major difference than what i was told.. it will be a whole week, not just the weekend. if you cant make it its fine i understa-” wonwoo cut you off. “oh thats okay! i dont mind.” you paused in shock. “you dont mind? like you dont mind being a fake couple for a week?” you had expected him to back out, not because he was unreliable, but because it was a big thing to agree to. but, wonwoo insisted. “im serious! id be happy to, itd be nice to get out of this place for a bit and spend time with your family.” lots of people saw wonwoo as being a cold person, but anyone who knows him knows hes a huge softie. you were overjoyed at wonwoos willingness to do this for you.

you went on to explain everything to wonwoo, as he listened attentively and was eager to help you and your family in any way he was able to. the wedding was on a thursday afternoon in the middle of june. your mother wanted you to come home a couple days before the wedding, so you decided that you would get there on the sunday before the wedding, and leave the day after the wedding. wonwoo agreed and said he could even drive (as long as you gave him directions). you had thought you had everything all in order, but wonwoo piped up with something you havent even considered up until this point.

“wait, so what about our fake relationship? we need details to make it believable.” wonwoo really was an actor at heart. until now, you had entirely forgotten that you would actually need to seem like a couple in order to be perceived as a couple. “yeah youre right, what kind of things would we have to detail though?” you both thought about the bare minimum for a second, before deciding the things you would decide on beforehand and the things you could just make up on the spot if necessary. “alright, i think we should figure out how we met and how long we’ve been together. those are the stereotypical new couple questions.” wonwoo sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so you just went along with it. “how about, we met when i was working at that convenience store on the corner, and we’ve been together… 6 months?” you were completely pulling this out of thin air, but wonwoo hummed in agreeance on the other end of the phone call. “convenience store, 6 months. sounds believable to me.”

with everything clarified about your cousins wedding, all there was left to do was wait. well, besides finding something to wear, and packing, and tying any lose ends in your schoolwork. but other than that it was a breeze. the month did seem to fly by. in no time, you were fitting your suitcase into the trunk of wonwoo’s car and leaving to make the drive to your hometown. along the way, wonwoo made sure to ask lots of questions about your family and childhood friends, and you told him lots of stories as well. as you pulled into the driveway of your family home, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. the house hadnt changed a bit in the years you were away.

as you and wonwoo got out of the car and began taking your luggage out, the front door of the house swung open and your mother rushed out, eager to see you after so long. she ran down the driveway in order to engulf you in a bear hug. you laughed as she squeezed you so hard you thought youd explode. your father stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a toothy grin across his face as he leaned against the doorframe. wonwoo shut the trunk of his car, and your mothers attention immediately switched to him. you laughed as he squeezed his cheeks and gave him an equally tight bear hug.

“oh its so nice to meet you dear! what did you say your name was?” your mother had her hands firmly planted on wonwoos shoulders as she smiled up at him. wonwoos eyes were bright and happy. “im wonwoo, its lovely to meet you mrs l/n.” your mother cooed at wonwoo as she pulled him in for another hug. she admired you and wonwoo together, until the fire alarm started blaring from the kitchen, prompting her to run past your father and back into the house. wonwoo picked up the bags as the two of you followed your mother into the house, albeit less rushed than she was.

your father automatically took a liking to wonwoo, talking to him at the table as you helped your mother finish dinner. the sight of them laughing together and your father lightly hitting wonwoos shoulder with a smile was such a warm moment. the domesticity of it all made your heart swell. with the ding of a timer, you and your mother brought the dishes over to the table and laid them in front of wonwoo and your father. wonwoo looked at the table in awe. you made sure to tell him that your mother wasnt the best at making the right portions, which was evident by the mountains of food sitting in front of you.

your mother took her seat next to your father, and you took the one across from her, on wonwoos right. he smiled at you as you sat down, and you smiled back, trying to ignore the pink flush you could feel hazing across your face. all the time you had known wonwoo, why was being around him making you feel this way now? you quickly pushed the thought aside as your mother began asking questions between bites.

“so, how long have you two lovebirds been together?” she had a smirk on her face as she glanced between you and wonwoo. wonwoo spoke before you got the chance. “we’ve known each other for longer, but i officially asked her to be my girlfriend 6 months ago.” the fond look on his face as he said this would make anyone melt. if you hadn’t been a part of the ruse, you wouldve never questioned the love in his eyes. damn, hes a good actor. he gazed over at you as he finished his sentence. you smiled back at him before turning to your mother. “our 6 month anniversary was actually last week.” your mother held her hands to her chest as she congratulated you both. wonwoo held your hand on the table as your mother began telling a story about how your father had originally asked her to be his girlfriend. you didnt hear much of the story over your own heartbeat ringing in your ears. wonwoos hand was warm, and much bigger than yours. you had decided that wonwoo was simply too good at acting the boyfriend role. did he have some secret girlfriend none of you knew about? was he taking classes? you tried to act casual as he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand. you knew you couldnt overthink anything that would happen over the next week. it was all just for the act, right? right.

dinner went by in a blur, and soon you were being led to the spare room your mother had cleaned out for you and wonwoo to share. you shivered as you walked in. it was cooler in this room than the rest of the house. it wasnt major, though, so you didnt say anything to your mother about it. she smiled as she disappeared down the hallway, leaving you and wonwoo in the bedroom, alone. as soon as your mother left, wonwoo flopped down onto the bed in the middle of the room. you looked at him and laughed. he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, even though the growing smile on his face as you stood over him with your hands on your hips gave him away. you shook your head as you walked to the other side of the room where wonwoo put your bags. you rumaged through your bag for a sweater. you dug through the bag, but you couldnt find the one hoodie you swear you packed. defeated, you sat on the floor next to your bag and pulled out every item of clothing and put it in your lap. no sweater. with a frustrated sigh, you scooped everything back into your bag and stood up. at this point, wonwoo had sat up, his arms supporting his weight as he watched you get up.

“whats wrong?” he quirked an eyebrow. you gestured to your bag. “i forgot to pack a hoodie, i swear i did, but i mustve left it on my sofa.” wonwoo thought for a second before sitting up entirely. “here, take this.” he began taking off the hoodie he was wearing, and for a second, you couldnt take your eyes off of him. as he pulled the sweater over his head, the shirt he wore underneath rose with it, revealing his bare abs. you stood watching, mouth agape. everyone had said that wonwoo worked out a lot, but you had never seen the proof for yourself. you snapped out of it as he fixed his shirt and ran one hand through his hair, passing the sweater to you in the other. “oh wonwoo, its fine, i was just gonna ask my mom for one.” but, he wouldnt take no for an answer. he tilted his head to the side as he tossed the sweater in your direction. you caught it, and he smiled that gorgeous smile youve been seeing all day.

you pulled wonwoos hoodie over your head, and you were engulfed by the smell of his cologne. the scent overtook your senses as you situated yourself into the sweater. the warmth of the material mixed with wonwoos leftover body heat warmed you up instantly. so much that when you caught wonwoo staring at you wearing his hoodie, you didnt even feel the way your face instantly heated up as you sat on the bed next to him. he moved over to give you room to move further onto the bed, and suddenly the thought of being closer to wonwoo made your heart race.

wonwoo sat on the bed, typing away on his phone as you slid onto the mattress next to him. you watched him, focused on the message he was sending. the black tshirt he had been wearing under his hoodie was tight enough that it hugged all the parts of his body in the right ways. the way the fabric draped across his chest, and was rolled up at the sleeves. as wonwoo put his phone down and looked in your direction, you were quick to look away and take your own phone out of your pocket. luckily, he didnt seem to notice your staring. wonwoo looked past you, towards the clock above your head. “is it really that late already?” you glanced up at the time on your phone screen. “11:30? yeah, i guess.” wonwoo raised his eyebrows in surprise and stood up, leaving you by yourself on the bed. he began rummaging through his bag before pulling out a pair of sweatpants and another tshirt. he left the room without a word, presumably to go to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. you did the same, shutting the door and quickly getting changed before he came back into the bedroom.

after getting changed, you lightly knocked on the bathroom door so you could brush your teeth. as you did, the door swung open and you were greeted by wonwoo with a toothbrush already hanging out of his mouth. you laughed to yourself as you walked past him in order to get to the sink. as you started brushing your teeth, you straightened your back and stood next to wonwoo in the mirror. not able to easily smile, you both did your best to smile at each other with your eyes through the vanity mirror. the two of you stood there in the mirror together, before wonwoo finished up and you followed behind him not long after.

when you walked into the bedroom, you were greeted with wonwoo creating a sort of barrier in the middle of the bed made of decorative throw pillows that your mother had laid out on the bed for when you got there. you stood in the doorway, letting him finish whatever he was doing before you began to question him. hearing the door shut, he turned around, and gestured to the bed. “i thought itd make you feel more comfortable.” you smiled at the sentiment, but you hadnt really thought to this point yet. you completely forgot about the fact that you and wonwoo would be sharing a bed for the next week. while you or wonwoo could have just slept on the sofa, the facade that you were busy putting on was more important. so, pillow barrier it was. you shivered as you snuggled under the duvet that was on the bed, still feeling that same chill that you did when you first walked into the room earlier that day. “goodnight, y/n.” wonwoos voice came from behind you. “goodnight, wonwoo.” you smiled as you said it, and wonwoo clicked the switch for the lamp, enveloping you both in the darkness of the night.

warmth. when you woke up the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the sudden warmth that you felt, compared to the chill from the night before. at first, you equated it to the shine of the sun that was streaming in through the cracks of the blinds. but it was a different warmth. you opened your eyes, curious to find the answers to your questions. somehow, as soon as your eyes fluttered open, all of your questions were answered in one glance. on the floor next to the bed laid one of your mothers decorative pillows, the ones that should have been in the middle of the bed, and not on the floor next to the (obviously broken) space heater. as you started to fully wake up, you felt slow, light breaths on the back of your neck. you also felt the arms snaked around your waist, and the hands that lightly rested on the mattress in front of you. your mind went blank. what were you supposed to do? move and wake him up? leave it and pretend it didnt happen? in the moment, you decided to go with the latter. carefully stretching towards the nightstand on your side of the bed, you grabbed your phone and pulled your arm back to your body. wonwoo stirred slightly, but stayed asleep. the clock on your phone read 6:00am, so you felt no reason to wake him up already.

you had no idea at what point in the night this had happened, but some part of you wasnt mad it happened. wonwoos body heat was enough to keep you warm, and youd be lying if you didnt like the feeling of his arms wrapping around you as you slept. the almost silent snores coming from behind you had somehow lulled you back to sleep, as you woke up 20 minutes later with your phone on the bed next to your pillow. you also noticed how your back was suddenly no longer covered, sending a shiver down your spine. when you heard the footsteps approaching the bedroom, you decided to just pretend you were still asleep instead of facing the events of the night. the door creaked and shut, as you felt the bed dip back down behind you. you didnt say anything, but soon after you felt the same arm creep back around your waist and settle back onto its previous place on the mattress. wonwoo settled into place, as did you.

the questions in your head did make some points. if wonwoo had accidentally started cuddling you at night, why would he return to the same position while awake? how would you address this? you just decided not to. the comfort of having him flush against your back overpowered the thoughts of wanting to stop it. you never wanted the morning to end, although you knew you obviously couldn’t stay in bed all day. it was still pretty early, so you just didn’t bother to worry about getting up just yet. your strategy of pretending to be asleep had been successful before. you closed your eyes as sun began to shine more brightly through the small opening in the curtains. maybe it was just your own, but as you felt yourself drift asleep again for the second time that morning, it was as if you could feel wonwoo’s own heartbeat against your back.

you weren’t sure how long you had slept, but you felt a light push on your shoulder as you began to feel yourself wake up again. “hey, wake up. it’s 8:00.” your eyes slowly opened as you looked over at wonwoo sitting on the edge of the bed. his hair was messy, and flat on one side. you smiled at the sight in front of you, as he scrunched his nose and ruffled his hair. god, he really was beautiful. you had always known that wonwoo was conventionally handsome. but seeing him in this context, just waking up as the sun shone on him, he was breathtaking. you quickly realized that you had been staring at him for longer than what seemed normal, so you began to sit up and try to wake up fully. you yawned and stretched as wonwoo walked in front of you to open the blinds all the way. you groaned and covered your eyes dramatically. wonwoo laughed, smiling down at you as you opened one eye and glared up at him. he picked up his clothes and made his way out of the bedroom. you watched as he left and shut the door behind him, and you sighed. this week just started, and the outcomes are already looking questionable for keeping your relationship the same as it was before.

as you left the bathroom after brushing your teeth, the smell of breakfast filled the hallways. your mother had always been the best chef, and her cooking was one of your favourite things about coming home. you walked back to the bedroom and peeked through the door, only to notice that wonwoo was nowhere to be seen. thats when you heard your parents laughter travel up the staircase. you briefly smiled to yourself as you grabbed your phone from the bed and shoved it in your pocket. you headed downstairs and saw your parents and wonwoo sitting in the same seats as they had been the evening before. they all smiled brightly as you walked through the kitchen. “good morning sweetheart!” your mother beamed as she gestured for you to come eat. you sat down with wonwoo on your left again, and smiled at him as you reached past him for a pitcher of water to pour some into your glass. your mother gushed at this small interaction, making a comment to your father about how much the two of you remind her of them as young adults. “how did you both sleep? well rested for the festivities?” you both smiled and nodded as wonwoo spoke. “we slept well! i cant wait to meet more of your family, if they’re all like you three im in for a great week.” he grinned as your parents erupted with laughter and joy. wonwoo was always one for buttering up people, and god was he good at it. a small smile crept onto your face as your parents started telling wonwoo all about your family. you ate quietly as he sat listening intently to everything your mother was telling him.

the wedding wasnt for another two days, but your family had planned a small get-together prior just for everyone to warm up and see each other before the wedding. yourself and wonwoo had decided to just tag along with your parents rather than drive two separate cars. this party was more casual than the wedding, so you didn’t have to dress up that much. the two of you sat in silence in the backseat as your parents spoke amongst themselves. without warning, wonwoos hand made its way to your thigh, just above your knee. you looked down as his hand made contact with your skin through the rip in your jeans. he didnt bat an eye. he continued looking out the window, or looking at his phone. meanwhile, you tried to act like his touch didnt send electricity coursing through your body. without any second thought, you rested your hand on his and looked straight ahead as you tried to ignore your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

as you arrived at your aunts house, you noticed the amount of cars parked outside. you know your family is large, but visualizing it like this makes it seem crazy. your eyes widened at the sight, and you could even hear some of your families laughter before you even got inside. wonwoo walked by your side into the house. the same hum of talking remained for moments before everyone realized that more family had joined them. the house erupted, with aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents all rushing over to greet the four of you. you hugged all of them, muttering quick ‘hello’s and giving smiles to relatives you hadnt seen in years. after some time everyone began returning to their prior seats, and you all followed suit. in the commotion, you hadn’t even noticed wonwoos hand had come to rest on your lower back.

as you sat down, it felt as though all eyes in the room gravitated to yourself and wonwoo. you looked around before clearing your throat. “everyone, this is my boyfriend wonwoo!” wonwoo smiled and gave a small wave. your family all smiled and started introducing themselves at once. you both laughed at the acts, but he made sure to speak to every person who was there. they all immediately adored him. you spent the evening catching up with family and exchanging old childhood memories. wonwoo chatted with your family as well, telling them about his life and family, as well as your ‘relationship’. throughout the night, his arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders the entire time. every so often when conversation died down you would look up at him to notice he had already been looking at you. you both giggled and turned away, somewhat flustered by the other.

your parents checked the time, noticing that it had been way later than they thought it was. you all stood up and began saying your goodbyes. as you spoke to your cousin who was getting married, you stifled a yawn. wonwoo noticed and smiled to himself as his arm found its way around your waist. he congratulated your cousin, and talked to her for a bit as you found yourself slowly sinking into wonwoos side. “i think someones tired, we should get going.” he and your cousin laughed as you nodded your head. you gave her one last hug as you followed your parents out of the house and back into the car. on the way back to the house, you had rested your head on wonwoos shoulder. as you fell in and out of consciousness, wonwoos hand lightly patted your head as you yawned.

you felt the car come to a stop as you pulled back into your parents driveway. you lifted your head and looked around, catching wonwoos eye as he gave you a fond look. you both got out of the car and went straight to your room after saying goodnight to your parents. rooting through your suitcase, you grabbed some pajamas and headed for the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. you drowsily brush your teeth, as theres a quiet knock at the door. opening the door, youre met with wonwoo, toothbrush in hand. you try to give him a smile as you move over to give him some room. since coming to your parents house, brushing your teeth together had become a common occurrence. it was peaceful, and the silence was never awkward. although, it was rare for you and wonwoo to encounter awkward silence at any moment. silence with him was always calm, never awkward. you both just enjoyed each others company, and you both knew that. after a couple minutes of standing together at the sink, you both finished getting ready and went back to the bedroom. too tired to worry about wonwoos pillow ‘solution’ from the night before, you both just crawled into bed facing away from each other. you muttered goodnights as he flicked off the lamp.

you found yourself waking up at some point in the middle of the night shivering. the room had cooled off more than it was before, and the one blanket you had wasnt doing the best job. the air conditioning had to be on the lowest setting possible. you could still hear wonwoos soft snores as you moved gingerly and stood up, so you assumed he was still fast asleep. as you walked past the end of the bed, you heard him speak in a low whisper. “where are you going?” he was groggy, his eyes barely opening to look at you in the dark. “oh, im cold so im just going to grab another blanket. you can go back to sleep.” he nodded gently as his head layed back down on the pillow. you made your way to your mothers linen closet and grabbed a fluffy blanket from the top of the pile. as you got back in bed and snuggled back in with the other blanket, you heard wonwoos voice again. “wanna come over here?” you turned over in confusion to look at him, but them you saw what he meant. his arm was lifted, inviting you to snuggle into him. as you shivered again, you thought, ‘whats the worst that could happen?’ so, you shifted towards wonwoo until you met his chest and his arms wrapped the blankets around the two of you. with one of his arms under your head and the other around your waist, you pressed your head to his chest and drifted away to the sound of his heartbeat.

waking up in wonwoos arms again was a shocking experience for half asleep you. as you slowly felt yourself waking up, the warmth surrounding you yet again confused you for a moment. you blinked yourself awake before remembering the events of the middle of the night. the air in the room remained slightly cool as you began to slip out from underneath the blankets. wonwoo had always been a heavy sleeper, as he didnt budge when you snuck out from his hold. you made your way out of the room, the air in the rest of the house feeling the same as it did in your bedroom. you noticed the early morning sun that had been shining through the blinds. suddenly, you realized it may have been earlier than you thought. you shut the bedroom door as quietly as you could behind you when you returned, even though you knew wonwoo was sound asleep anyways. sitting on the side of the bed, you picked up your phone from the table where it sat. 5:47am. so it was way earlier than you thought. you settled back into the blankets, glancing over to see wonwoo in the same way he was when you left. lips slightly parted, long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. he looks so content. as carefully as you can, you lift his arm up and nestle back into his body. although he seemed as though he was in deep sleep when you got back, you couldnt help but notice the arm around your waist lightly squeeze as you nuzzle your face into the crook between his neck and his shoulder.

the next couple of days went by generally the same as the past two did. visiting family, spending time with your parents, just taking time to relax and be at home. acting as a couple actually wasn’t as difficult as you expected it to be. the most you would have to do is recite the backstory you had both made up, or hold hands every now and then to look believable. it felt like no time before it the day of the wedding, and you were all getting ready to head to the wedding hall. you fought to curl your hair in the mirror, but couldnt quite reach one part in the back. this caught wonwoo’s attention, as he made it was over to you behind the mirror. you sighed, making eye contact with him in the mirror. “do you want some help? i can finish it for you.” he reached for the curling iron as you nodded. “i just cant get that one piece, does the rest look okay?” you watched as he tilted his head in concentration while he curled the last few pieces of hair on the back of your head. “turn around.” you turned to face him as he inspected your hair. he fluffed up some pieces, then moved his hands to rest on either side of your face. “it looks great.” for a second, you couldve sworn the love in his eyes was genuine. well, you knew he had love for you, but in a platonic way. but this look felt like a different type of love. before you could process anything that had happened, your mother appeared in the doorway. “oh, arent you two just beautiful?” she crossed her arms and leaned on the doorway. you both stood to face her so she could admire your dress and wonwoos suit. wonwoo had made an effort to get a tie that matched your dress. it didnt take long for your mother to notice the small sentiment as she raved about how cute it is and left to go tell your father. after close to an hour of getting ready in preparation for a wedding that wasnt even your own, you all made your way into your parents’ car and were officially enroute to the wedding.

the wedding venue was absolutely beautiful. decorated from floor to ceiling with white and gold decorations, you walked in and your jaw dropped. you admired everything as wonwoo stood by your side, also taking in all the glamour of the space. after taking the time to appreciate the decor, wonwoo lightly takes your hand and pulls you into the wedding hall, trailing behind your parents. your parents picked a seat close to the front in order to get a good view of the ceremony. with different members of your extended family surrounding you, you felt right at home. wonwoos hand never left yours from the moment you both stepped into the venue. everyone quietly spoke amongst each other as they all waited for the wedding to begin. you told wonwoo about all the family members you could see, telling him small anecdotes and childhood stories. wonwoo always seemed to be so attentive. you loved that part of him. it didnt feel like long before the music queued and the wedding party began entering the room. you watched as your aunts, uncles, cousins, and their partners all walked into the room in pairs. you began tearing up at the sight of your family all looking so proud of your cousin. wonwoo noticed, squeezing your hand and lightly running his thumb along your knuckles. you wrapped your arm around his as your cousin turned the corner. she was absolutely stunning. you looked towards the front of the room to see her soon-to-be husband in tears at the sight of her. the display of love made you cry as well. all you had wanted since you were a young child was a love like they have now. as your cousin made her way down the aisle, wonwoo silently wiped your tears and squeezed your hand yet again. you gave him a thankful smile as he put his free hand on top of your intertwined fingers.

the rest of the wedding was just as heartwarming as the beginning. more tears were shed, smiles were had, it was a beautiful experience. as the wedding party all exited the room, you sat in wonwoos presence as the guests around you broke out into a chatter about how beautiful the wedding was. in the hum of the crowd, wonwoo watched you in a silent effort to make sure you were feeling okay. you had told him in a drunken rant in the weeks preceding the wedding how much you didnt want to go home because everyone was in love and happy together, and all you had was school and friends. you reassured wonwoo that you appreciate what you have, but as he practically carried you through your apartment, he could hear the sadness and disappointment in your voice through the intoxication. he never brought this up after, but this did make him want to go to this wedding and take care of you even more. as everyone in the wedding hall began standing up and getting ready to leave, wonwoo patted your thigh gently as you both joined everyone else. your parents waited by the door for the two of you to exit through the flood of people. on the drive back, your parents had plenty to say about the newlyweds and the wedding as a whole. you chimed in occasionally, but you were perfectly content with listening to your mothers rambling uninterrupted.

when you get home, you decide to stay in the same dress you had worn for the wedding ceremony, as the wedding dance and reception were only hours later. you relax in the family room with wonwoo, watching whatever your parents had been watching on tv before you left. you sit in the same comfortable silence that you two always manage to seek out. you drape your legs across his lap as he mindlessly draws invisible patterns along your legs with his fingers. interrupting the tv show, your phone rings. hoshi? you answer the phone and put it on speaker.

“y/n!! hows it going, loverboy giving you any trouble?” wonwoo rolls his eyes at hoshis obnoxious tone, but cant help the laugh escaping his body. you flash him a teasing smile.

“no hosh, im keeping him in line, dont worry.”

“you better be, im not there to do it so i was getting worried.”

wonwoo began playfully arguing with hoshi through the phone as you hold the phone and giggle at their antics. they go on and on for a couple minutes, before wonwoo inevitably gives up. hoshis persistence is truly something to be reckoned with. hoshi has some last final parting words before abruptly ending the phone call.

“have fun lovebirds, see you soon! i dont want to be a godfather yet though!”

you both laugh at him again, letting the silence fall back into the room. before long, its time to go back to the wedding hall for the reception. you find your seats next to your parents as the food begins to be served. wonwoo spots the open bar across the room, and asks if youd like a drink. you give him a nod and hes off to grab refreshments. you dont bother with specifics, as you trust wonwoos knowledge about your taste. he comes back with two glasses, and places one on the table in front of you. smiling in acknowledgement, he gives you a nod. you listen to speeches and songs, before the meal is over and the crowd is brought to the dance floor. being a couple drinks deep so far, you try to convince wonwoo to get up and dance with you. youve always been sort of a lightweight, but you also know your limits. sometimes. wonwoo, however, doesnt have the same taste for alcohol that you do. so he has one or two, and switches to soda before he even feels the slightest bit tipsy. still trying to drag him to the dance floor, you ask wonwoo to come with you in the nicest most stable voice you could muster. he gives in, following you out and joining the many people already enjoying the dj’s music.

you both get a taxi home, as your parents arent the party animals they used to be. wonwoo tries to bring you in quietly, but youre as stable and discrete as a baby giraffe in a china shop. after managing to successfully sneak you into the bedroom without angering your parents, he closes the door as you stumble to the bed and flop back into the blankets. wonwoo hangs his suit jacket on the back of the door and begins gathering his clothes to go get changed in the bathroom. as his hand touches the doorknob, he hears distinct babbling coming from the bed behind him. he turns around to see you staring at the ceiling, and he’s unsure if youre talking to yourself or him.

“what was that?”

you turn your head towards him and smile. “youre sooo handsome woo. im just so happy that youre my fake boyfriend.”

he laughs at this sudden proclamation. he sits on the bed next to you and leans back onto his arms, gazing down at you. “you're pretty sweet too, y/n. i couldnt ask for a better fake girlfriend.”

“but you knowww…” you attempt to whisper to him, as if it was a secret to him and yourself. “i couldddd be your real girlfriend toooooooo..” you give him a gleeful smile, your eyes closed. he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “is that so?” you nod profusely as he says this. he chuckles and stands up, tapping your leg.

“youve got to get ready for bed, you cant sleep in your dress and makeup.” you sit up in a slouch, giving wonwoo a disapproving look. he puts his hand out to help you up, and you gladly take it. he brings you to the bathroom and hoists you onto the counter, shutting the door to create a barrier between your elevated drunken volume and your parents’ bedroom. he takes a makeup wipe out of its packaging as he places his hand along your neck with his thumb on your jaw, holding your face in its place. you close your eyes as the cold cloth comes into contact with your face. you shiver a little as wonwoo readjusts his grip on your face. when hes done, he pats your thigh as a signal to slide off the countertop. you jump down and try to follow him back into the bedroom, but before you leave he passes you your pajamas to get changed into. you reluctantly return back to the bathroom and try to change as carefully as you can. once you get back into the bedroom, wonwoo is in his pajamas, climbing into bed. you jaunt across the room onto your side, and as soon as wonwoo is settled in, you slowly snuggle into his side. he wraps both arms around you, wrapping you in a warm cocoon of blankets and his body. before you drift off, you mumble “love you woo” into his chest. he knows it was the drunk you speaking, but he makes sure to whisper “love you too y/n” into the quiet night.

the last morning waking up in wonwoos arms was no different from any of the other days. you try to savour this time a little bit longer, but he soon starts to stir and slowly gets out of bed. you can tell that he thought you were asleep by how carefully he was moving. when he comes back, youre sitting up in the bed on your phone. he’s taken aback, and begins to apologize for waking you up. you reassure him that you were already awake which calms his nerves. while wonwoo is in the bathroom, you begin packing your stuff back into the suitcase you brought with you. when hes ready, you switch places, now with you in the bathroom and wonwoo packing his stuff. you both decide to hit the road early, so youre not getting home tired late at night.

after saying many goodbyes to your family you're hitting the road again. after some time, wonwoo suddenly chimes in. “um, do you remember anything you said last night when we got back from the reception?” youre taken aback by the question, trying to replay every moment of the night. you shake your head. “but im definitely sorry for whatever it may have been.” you both chuckle, as wonwoo turns it over in his head, trying to decide whether or not to continue on this train of thought. “its just…” hes made his decision. “i was thinking about how people say drunk words are sober thoughts, and your drunk words said some things that i actually agree with.” at this point youve turned fully towards him in your seat, trying to figure out what he was about to say next. he takes a deep breath before continuing. “when we were getting ready for bed you said.. you said you wished that this-” he gestures between the two of you, “-wasnt fake. and ive been turning that over and over in my head because… i feel that way too.” the tips of his ears are bright red, and his grip on the steering wheel has tightened slightly. you watch as he tries to calm himself down enough to continue. you decide to let him finish before speaking. “the last few days has made me feel so happy. being around you makes my days better. you don't have to feel the same, you dont even have to say anything if you don't want to. i just.. i had to say something.” you smile at him as you place your hand lightly on his arm. now, its your turn to speak. “wonwoo, you don't understand how difficult it has been to try not to fall for you in the last week. everything you do makes my heart flutter. ive been dreading the day this whole scheme was over. i do wish this wasnt fake. i want this to be our everyday life wonwoo. i want this to be us.” his hand finds yours as a smile overtakes his face. you hold his hand in yours, not wanting to ever let go. wonwoo glances over at you. “i cant believe that the girl i met at the convenience store is finally my girlfriend after us dating for 6 months.” you laugh, letting your head rest against the car headrest as you let the quiet music from the radio fill the silence.

you should've known this fake relationship would last longer than the week you signed up for.

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

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joshua being a single dad and falling in love with his daughter’s ballet teacher....... ☹️

astronomical fuck-up for one, please

why do you guys like giving me cute ass ideas with the guy y’all know i’m not the most normal about in the slightest oh my god. clutching my purses and pearls and rubies and robes and— and—

“you should talk to them today. like actually talk, and not just stare at them like a creep from the pickup spot. you know, like normal people do.”

joshua closes his eyes at the jab, exuding patience of the high order, because he knows there’s a wicked grin paired with what he supposes is half-assed sentiment. but he’s not staring. wasn’t staring, has never been staring—

he’s just admiring talent. an hour earlier than he’s supposed to even be there. but hey, he was in the area and was roped into a conversation with one of the moms—he didn’t see the point in leaving. his afternoon was free, anyway, and the way maia’s eyes lit up when she saw him during a break gave him all the more reason to stay.

except, seungkwan seems to particularly enjoy pressing his perfectly curated buttons each time he sees him, and today was no exception. seated at a table in the in-house cafe, the noiret crosses one leg over the other and stares him down, and joshua is more than happy to stare right back.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers simply, and chooses to ignore the pointed look the other gives him in return. “don’t you have a class to teach?”

seungkwan huffs and uncrosses his arm to wave around vaguely. “you know we share the same studio, and you know i teach after their class. which is why it doesn’t make sense why you’re stalling—”

“i’m not stalling? there isn’t anything to even stall for—”

“oh, for crying out loud. maia even knows you like them, i honestly don’t understand what you’re doing this for.”

maia knew? maia knows? he’s thrust suddenly into odd situations that now suddenly make sense, from cheeky grins to swinging both your hands to telling him to wave goodbye everyday after class and god, the little smile on your lips each time you waved back—

“—llo? hello? oh my god, he’s doing it again. mingyu, have water on standby in case he passes out at the thought of a four bedroom house with a white picket fence and a toyota camry.”

he blinks back to the sound of politely contained laughter, looking behind him to see the barista behind the counter holding a glass of water sheepishly. exasperation quickly makes itself comfortable on his features, and he sighs before standing up to gather his things.

“thanks for the riveting enlightenment,” he deadpans, and to his dismay, seungkwan only smiles smugly in response. “i don’t have time for this. it’s almost time to pick maia up, anyway.”

“i’ll just say i told you so when you freeze again,” he shrugs, and laughs when he stalls to recollect himself for a moment. it’ll be fine. he’ll just say you look nice today, and that you always do.

and that your smile is possibly the prettiest once he’s ever seen, and that when you dance, all he can see is you. epitome of gracefulness, honestly, and your work with kids is just flawless, and your laugh is kind of cute and really endearing and—

he accidentally walks into a wall and bites down a curse. a burst of laughter erupts from behind him and it takes all his willpower not to throw up a pleasant middle finger back in the direction he came from.

pickup goes pleasantly, as always. maia barrels into his arms with the force of a mini bullet train as usual, and it knocks him back a few steps. her laughter is all the same, though, and it allows him to stave off the pang in his chest about her growing up so fast. she’s the only reminder of what used to be before that dreaded phone call, dulled to a distant ache.

she looks so much like her sometimes.

“how was class today, hm?” maia giggles when he squeezes her tight, little hands resting on his shoulders. “did you learn anything new?”

“mhm! yn says we have a new dance to learn for the winter show, so we’ve been practicing a lot—but i can’t show you! it’s a secret.”

maia mimes zipping her lips and shoving the key in her coat pocket, and grins when he frowns theatrically. “not even a little bit?” she shakes her head no, and he squints. “really? not even one spin?”

“not even one spin.” your voice pipes up from behind him, making him turning around and promptly forget every single word his ever learned.

you’re… gorgeous, even after hours of dance and probably more still after. dressed comfortably in sweats and a shirt, you smile when maia beckons you close and comply easily, your movements graceful even when just walking.

he hopes maia can’t hear how loud his heartbeat sounds.

“i heard a little dancer was about to reveal the secret we planned for the parents,” you tease, brows raising in disbelief, and maia is quick to reassure you that she definitely wasn’t.

“we pinky promised, remember? i don’t break pinky promises,” she huffs, and you laugh faintly before relenting. turning to him, maia adds, “can i get hot chocolate from the store?”

he buffers for a second when you turn to him and quickly nods, hastily fishing out a ten dollar bill before turning to you. “do you want anything? i don’t mind getting you anything—”

“oh—no, i’m okay. really. i’ve actually been meaning to talk to you.”

his heart drops. maia looks at the two of you incredulously before ultimately deciding getting hot chocolate was far more interesting than whatever was going on between you two, skipping off to join her friends already at the cafe.

“you wanted to talk—to me?” he cringes at the sound of his voice. get it together!

“i hope that’s alright,” you laugh nervously. “don’t get me wrong, maia is a wonderful student! this isn’t about her, it’s… more about you.”

oh god. okay. alright. okay. relax.

“i hope this isn’t too forward, but—”

“i’m not seeing anyone,” he blurts out, and then burns bright red out pure shock.

he did not just say that. he did not just say that. he did not—

frantic, he tries to backtrack, heart climbing into his throat as all alarm bells in his mind go off at once. maia was already doing so well here, and now he’ll have to relocate somewhere else out of embarrassment, and he’ll never be able to walk the entire block due to pure association with this astronomical fuck up, talk less of even being able to face you—

“ah… well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”

he doesn’t know how on earth that could mean good news, but you haven’t walked away just yet, so he’ll take it. his smile is a bit sheepish, murmuring an apology, and your smile softens at the words.

“i guess this means asking if you’re free anytime this week a bit easier.”

joshua physically has to stuff his hands in his pockets to refrain to cheering out loud like a teenager. you look nervous but determined, and he leans against the wall lest his legs actually give out from under him.

“sure—yeah, i’m free this weekend. maia has a sleepover planned, anyway, so… we could make plans for dinner?”

your smile is definitely ten times brighter than it was a few seconds ago, and he’s so gladly the damn wall is behind him for support. “dinner sounds great.”

“dad!”

you both jump at the sudden yell, heads turning to the direction it came from to find—

goddamnit.

both seungkwan and maia look equal parts smug, arms crossed over their chests in matching stances that practically ooze i told you so. you scoot closer to him in response, and maia’s eyes widen comically.

“are you dating?!”

the entire pickup section turns to you two with wide eyes, and you shrink against him even more. you’re about to open your mouth to comment when a loud whoop rings out from the crowd, someone pushing forward to jab their finger into another parent’s chest.

“that’s 50 fuckin’ bucks. i told you they were totally into each other!”

joshua closes his eyes and sighs. at least the dinner would be more private.

back home ⟡ the archive ⟡ join my taglist ⟡ last post

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

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i just know than jeonghan would tease his s/o a lot, but whenever they went “hannie :(“ he would literally MELT like he’d just be like “okay sweetheart i’m sorry 🥺” and the members would be like ????? BC HE WON’T LET THEM LIVE but it’s his baby so <3

i don’t think i’ve ever written for hannie outside headcanons so thank u for the prompt!! forever in love with the weak for ur partner trope. warms my heart fr.

“speaking of slip-ups, remember when we went ice skating for our two year anniversary?”

the arm slung around your shoulders toys with the necklace he’d gifted you ages ago as he speaks, turning to offer you a sweet smile despite the teasing lilt to his voice. your eyes narrow when they meet his, and his grin only brightens.

of course you remember. you’d nursed the sore spots on your sides for hours, groaning with dramatic despair on your couch and flinging couch cushions at your beloved’s head each time you suspected he was laughing at you.

even now, a little bit of the mirth dances in his eyes and it’s all you can do not to roll you eyes.

“what? what happened?”

you’re brought back to the present to the sound of chan’s voice, curious eyes looking back and forth between the two of you.

“yn looks like they wanna skin you alive,” seungcheol adds, “and while i support the notion of payback for serious wrongdoings, i kind of don’t wanna lose my best friend.”

you do roll your eyes and jeonghan’s smile brightens tenfold.

“we went ice skating for our anniversary,” you start begrudgingly, and the two nod to egg you on. “and it’s no surprise to anyone that i have shit balance, right?”

cheol winces and you nod solemnly. in your defense, really, it wasn’t just on ice with metal on the soles of your shoes. things just had a funny way of appearing directly in your path at the worst times, and thus, you were subject to much teasing from your other half as he rubbed the aching spots and soothed them with kisses.

“so when you put ice and my terrible balance together, you get…”

“i really don’t get how you kept falling even when i was holding your hands,” jeonghan muses, squeezing your shoulder gently. you frown, embarrassed, and look down at your hands placed in your lap. “you’re always gonna need my help, aren’t you?”

“yeah, isn’t that… besides the point?” chan hides a smile behind his drink before letting out a strangled sound at the jab cheol delivers to his side. “what?? i’m just saying…”

“it’s cute, really.” his smile has softened, and you know the look in his eye is fond, but you still can’t help but pout. quietly—and honestly, you hadn’t meant for him to hear you—you mumble his name and rest your hand on his shoulder.

“hannie…”

and just like that, the switch is flipped.

your companions watch in equals parts awe and surprise as jeonghan immediately cups your face in his hands and offers up quiet apologies, brow furrowed as he searches your expression for serious discomfort. it’s a far stretch from the sly grins he gives them and the rest when they openly complain about his relentless teasing, so watching you preen under his attention has them more or less bristling on the sidelines.

cheol clears his throat and you’re the only one who acknowledges him. “i thought this was supposed to be inclusive,” he mumbles, and you raised a brow in amusement.

“you want a kiss, too?” at that, jeonghan snaps back into the conversation, hands still gently cupping your face, and give his best friend the most scathing glare he could muster. the message he sent was more than clear from a mile away—his kisses were for you and you only. no excuses.

“now look who wants to skin who alive,” chan mutters, and releases an undignified squawk when cheol jabs at his side again.

2K notes · View notes

sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

Text

Blown Up Love

reader x wonwoo

summary: gaming is all fun and... well, games, until you start crushing on the only person that takes pity on you and saves you from mobs.

genre: fluff, university au, gamer!wonwoo

warnings: swearing, death (but it's fake)

wc: 7.1k

a/n: i wrote this so long ago i forgot all my jokes - i haven't played minecraft in forever but i imagine playing with wonwoo would be so much fun - there will be a bonus eventually bc this somehow isn’t enough fluff for me

You run as fast as you can, hearing the groans behind you, a constant reminder of what followed not far behind you. You swerve to the side as another monster appears in front of you, a flash of white and the cracking of bones snapping against each other. You can’t help but scream as you hear a twang and realize that you’ve been shot.

“Are you really leaving me like this?” You cry, praying one of your friends will take pity on you.

“Don’t you have armor?” Jihoon asks. “Why didn’t you make a weapon?”

“I just wanted to hide underground, I didn’t realize it was night time already!” You scream as you take another hit, trying to dodge trees and what feels like hundreds of monsters converging on you. “I'm literally outside the base, can someone please come help me?”

“You’re so dramatic,” Seungcheol says. You don’t have to see him to know he’s rolling his eyes.

“I’m about to die!” Your hands are shaking. You know that one more hit means death.

You can see the light of the base, your last hope. If you can just make it a little bit farther, maybe you’ll make it. A figure moves toward you in the darkness and you instinctively turn away, though a moment later you’re sprinting toward it because you realize that it’s not a monster but one of your friends. Wonwoo.

“Wow, you were not kidding, there’s so many,” he says. He charges in front of you, practically glowing in diamond armor. No, literally glowing. When had he enchanted his armor?

You can hear him slaughter them behind you as you make a last ditch effort to make it inside. Just before you can open the door you hear another whizz, and something slams into. Everything turns red

Respawn or return to main menu.

You stare at the screen.

“I got your stuff,” Wonwoo says, voice as calm and even as ever. You sigh and click respawn.

“Thanks for trying,” you mumble as you return to the game, your character waking up deep inside the base.

“Sorry, I was in the middle of mining so I couldn’t really make it in time,” he says. You meet his character by the entrance to the base. You can’t help but smile at his skin, mostly covered by the glowing armor. You can still pick out the glasses he’d added to his skin, just like the ones he wore in real life, big and as round as he could make them in the pixelated game. You can almost see him in your mind, probably sitting in complete darkness in his room, wearing one of the three sweatshirts he cycled through.

He gives you your items, tossing them in front, then vanishes into the base, probably to return to mining.You thank him again and wander around the interior of the base until you end up in the room you made for yourself. You had spent the last couple days dedicatedly designing the base, carved into the side of a mountain with rooms for all five of your friends to return to and put their stuff in. It was hours of work that was nowhere near being done, but you were enjoying every second of the rather monotonous work.

What made you even happier was that your friends were actually using the rooms you set aside for them, each of them designing it a little to their own tastes. You might be absolutely terrible at fighting mobs, but you could at least build, and it felt nice that they weren’t totally disregarding that. Even if Wonwoo was the only one who would help you when you inevitably had to face the mobs.

“Yn, are you still in the base?” Wonwoo asks. When you say yes, he asks you to meet him in the main entrance.

You find him waiting, feeling inferior in your iron armor. He tosses you something. When you pick it up, you find out it’s an enchanted pickaxe, complete with unbreaking, mending, and fortune.

“I figured it might be easier to work on this if you have, like, actually good tools.”

“Thank you?” You can’t say you’re not surprised by Wonwoo’s generosity. You don’t know him very well. He’s Mingyu’s friend, and though you’ve hung out with all five of the guys many times this semester, he tended to be quieter and you weren’t convinced he didn’t hate you. Still, he was the only one on the server that didn’t bully you.

“When did you get enchants,” you ask as you both go your separate ways. It’s finally daytime outside, so you deem it safe to continue working on the farm you were trying to design along the edge of the base.

“It was pretty easy once I finished the villager farm,” he says. “Though I haven’t gotten around to reviving villagers to get cheap enchants. It’s on the list.”

You frown as you climb the side of the mountain halfway up and continue designing what would hopefully be a sprawling pumpkin patch. “How did you have the time for that?”

“I haven’t exactly logged off,” he says.

“We started the server two days ago!”

“It’s fall break,” he says. “I didn’t want to waste my time.”

“I fear you.”

“Hey, you guys are aware there are other people in this voice chat, right?” Mingyu says.

“Shut up,” you say.

“Get a room,” he says, pretending to cough.

You can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks. It wasn’t that you had a crush on Wonwoo. He was just tall, and objectively attractive, and really nice, and smart, and he had saved your life more than once. Okay, maybe it was a small crush.

“Can we set a time to kill the ender dragon,” Seungcheol asks. “I’m getting blaze rods right now.”

“Okay, I think I have enough ender pearls,” Wonwoo says. “Want to try tonight?”

“You are aware it’s already almost nine, right?” You say.

“It’ll take like two minutes with all of us,” Jihoon says.

“I’ll text Jeonghan and see if he wants to join,” Mingyu says.

“I’m guessing no one cares that I’m not ready at all,” you grumble.

“It’s not our fault you care more about picking flowers than playing the game,” Seungcheol says.

“Hey! I have not been playing with flowers! I am an integral part of this server, if it weren’t for me you all would be living in dirt shacks!”

“Yeah, but we’d still have diamond armor,” Jihoon says.

“Why don’t you just ask Wonwoo for some armor.” Mingyu snickers. “I’m sure he can afford to support you.”

You’re glad that it’s just a voice chat because otherwise you’d never hear the end of their teasing.

“I do have an extra set of armor,” Wonwoo says. “Also, I have a ton of leftover books from enchanting that you guys should use.”

“Maybe you have spent too much time on this,” Mingyu says.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re an English major,” Mingyu says. “Don’t you have an essay or some books to read?”

He laughs. “If you can find an English major that actually reads, I’ll log off.”

“Do not log off until we’ve beaten the dragon!” Seungcheol says.

“We could do it without him,” Mingyu says.

“Sure you could,” Wonwoo says. “Yn, are you getting the armor or not?”

You’ve been working on the farm outside, but as the sun starts to set, you begin to go back inside the base, not wanting a repeat of the previous night. “I’ll just die if I go with. Can’t I just stay and work on the base?”

“Nope, you have to come,” Mingyu says. “Server rules.”

“You can’t just make up rules on the spot,” you say.

“ Jeonghan is coming, so no excuses.”

You groan, knowing there’s no way out of it now. Jeonghan had joined exactly once, decided he was bored because Jihoon wouldn’t make him a “god” and hadn’t been on since. But it seemed like Mingyu was going to dictate friendship rules through Minecraft, so you were stuck.

“Here,” Wonwoo says, appearing in the halfway-finished room that you made for yourself. He tosses you a full set of armor, and when you pick it up you find that it has full enchants. He must not have been lying about spending his entire break on this game.

“I owe you!” You say. “Pretty much all I own is cobblestone and seeds but I will return this armor with only, like, minimal damage.”

“Unless you fall into the void,” Seungcheol said.

“Don’t even joke about that!” You say.

Wonwoo laughs, his deep voice almost melodic. “You’re just scared because it’s a very real possibility.”

“Not you bullying me, too,” you say, switching out the armor. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I am,” he says. “And honestly if you really do fall into the void it’s fine, I can make a new set in probably ten minutes. Probably less.”

“Can we make a rule about flirting in the main voice chat?” Seungcheol asks.

“Fine, Wonwoo, join me in VC-2,” you say. Your heart is pounding a little as you pause the game and switch voice chats. It’s painfully quiet for two seconds as you wait but finally you hear the ding of someone joining you.

“I’ll pay you real money to kill Seungcheol,” you say.

Wonwoo is quiet for a moment. “Right now?”

“Okay my bank account is a little empty, but next week I can buy you lunch?” You say.

“Are you… hiring me as a hitman?” He asks.

“Yes?”

“Two lunches and it’s a deal.”

“Done.”

You switch back to the main voice chat, and hear the second half of Mingyu explaining that there is no way you are bold enough to actually be flirting. You hate that he’s right.

“Back so soon?” Mingyu asks, cutting himself off mid-sentence. “Seungcheol, you owe me five dollars.”

“I really just live in your head rent free, huh?” You say. “Making bets on me now?”

“Actually, the bet was about the enchants that Wonwoo just gave me,” Mingyu says. “None of us believed you were actually flirting, but feel free to keep that inflated ego of yours.”

You wonder if you’re going to be able to stop embarrassing yourself in front of Wonwoo. With Mingyu and Seungcheol around, probably not.

The voice chat is mostly quiet as everyone goes to their own individual tasks. You are back to developing the farm (during the day). Jihoon and Mingyu are mining together and chatting about their spring schedule, while Seungcheol says he’s still getting blaze rods because he wants to make potions. Wonwoo is silent.

You are starting to think he was giving up, when suddenly Seungcheol shouts. “Hey, what the hell?”

“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks.

“Something is shooting me.” He curses.

“A blaze?” You ask, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as giddy as you feel.

“No, what the fuck, it’s coming out of nowhere.”

You’re struggling to stifle your laughter.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna die,” Seungcheol says. “I’m actually gonna die what the fuck, I’m at two hearts, where is this coming from? I’m actually dying, I-”

kkakkamori was killed by VvWonwoovV.

“What the fuck, Wonwoo?”

“Nothing personal,” he says as you finally burst into laughter. “Just doing business.”

“You just killed me!”

“I got your stuff,” he says.

“Keep talking shit about me and I’ll make sure you never see a day of peace,” you say, cackling at Seungcheol’s curses. You can hear Mingyu and Jihoon laughing, too. You wonder how many lunches it would cost to take them out.

“I won’t forget this,” Seungcheol says. “I’ll get revenge.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Wonwoo says.

“I can’t believe you killed me,” he says again. “Were you invis?”

“Yeah, I used some arrows of harming and spectral arrows, too, just in case.”

“Dude, you killed me in like five shots.”

“Okay, Wonwoo is no longer allowed to be hired as a hitman,” Mingyu announces. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey! Can’t I choose how to sell my services?” Wonwoo asks.

“Was it worth betraying me?” Seungcheol pretends to be hurt. “How much did my life cost?”

“Two sandwiches,” you answer.

“I’ll never forgive you.”

You laugh, and then smile even more when you see Wonwoo has texted you a smiley face.

Me: Good job, partner, you send him.

Wonwoo: Just doing good business.

You turn back to your computer. There’s still another hour until Jeonghan could get on to beat the ender dragon, and it occurs to you that you’ve been playing for nearly four hours. You tell the guys you are going to come back later, signing off and getting out of your chair and stretching.

You check your phone as it dings.

Wonwoo: don’t forget to refill your water!

You frown. You must have mentioned it to him while playing. You grab your water bottle, trying not to overthink the fact that he remembered when even you forgot. The more time you spend around Wonwoo, the harder it is to deny how lovely he is.

You stare at the options. You wish Wonwoo hadn’t trusted you to get him something, or that you could have remembered to ask him what he likes, at least what he dislikes.

You finally choose a BLT and a chicken sandwich and pray he isn’t vegetarian. You scout a table out and snag it, laying your backpack across the seats opposite you to save them. A few minutes later, you see Wonwoo making his way through the crowd of people filling up the dining hall. As he gets closer, you see Jeonghan and Jihoon at his sides. You tell yourself you didn’t notice them because Wonwoo is so much taller. No other reason.

You wave them over, grabbing your backpack as they slide into the seats, Jeonghan next to you while Wonwoo sat directly across from you. You point to the sandwiches. He frowns but ends up picking the chicken sandwich.

You slap Jeonghan’s hand away from the BLT. “That’s my lunch!”

“Why does Wonwoo get one, then?”

“It’s his payment,” you say, picking up your sandwich.

“You’re telling me Seungcheol hasn’t whined about his murder to you yet?” Jihoon asks.

“You know, I sort of tune him out when he starts talking about Minecraft,” Jeonghan says.

“He is being a little dramatic about it,” you say.

“You can’t say anything, you're the one that ordered a hit on him,” Jihoon said. “I’d watch your back.”

“It’s a video game!” You say.

“You know Seungcheol,” Jeonghan says. “He can hold a grudge when he wants to.”

Seungcheol and Jeonghan were your first friends in college. Technically you went to high school with them, but you didn’t really become friends until last year, when the three of you somehow ended up at the same school.

That’s how you know Jeonghan was exactly right. You glance around, suddenly worried that he was going to appear and exact his revenge in the middle of the dining hall.

“Was it worth it?” Jeonghan asks Wonwoo, who is somehow almost finished with the sandwich.

Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m not going to lie, the sandwich was a little subpar.” He checks his watch, then nudges you with his foot. “We’re going to be late to lab.”

You groan. “Why did we let Mingyu convince us to take this horrible class with him?”

He laughs as you stand up and follow him, grabbing your half eaten sandwich and waving goodbye to Jihoon and Jeonghan. As you walk beside him, you realize this is the first time you’ve been alone with him since you realized your tiny crush. Trying to match pace with his long stride is even more difficult when you are also trying very hard not to think about the way his arms hang on his sides, the way his hands are so close to yours and how easy it would be to slip your fingers in with his. Luckily he seems to notice you struggling to keep up because he starts taking smaller steps. So sweet.

“So was the sandwich really that bad?” You ask.

“It’s campus food,” he says. “It’s never good.”

“That’s true.”

He glances at you, glasses glinting in the sunlight. “I’m not sure I can really count it as payment.”

You freeze. “This is extortion! I’ve paid you for your services, you can’t demand more!”

“I don’t think that’s what extortion means.” He says. “And I’m not saying the sandwich doesn’t count. Just, maybe, a better second payment.”

“You’re going to make me go broke,” you say. “Well, more broke.”

He laughs. “Nothing expensive.” He holds the door to the science building open for you and you try not to read into it.

“What about the café? It’s better than the dining hall,” you say, heading into the stairwell. You catch a glimpse of a grimace across his face as you turn up the stairs. “What is it?”

“Jihoon’s ex works there and apparently being friends with him means that I’m hated too.”

You snort.

“What is it?”

“I can’t believe Jihoon dated before I did.”

“It surprises us all,” Wonwoo says. “Though I’d barely call it dating. They broke up after a week because Jihoon is Jihoon and realized his feelings were just superficial and no one really takes it well but his ex… It’s safe to say we mostly just avoid the café on principle.”

“Noted,” you say. You’re in the hallway outside the classroom now. You really don’t want to go inside, because, seriously, why do three hour long classes exist? Chatting with Wonwoo was an added bonus to avoiding the torture. You idle outside a couple minutes longer but you really are in danger of being late and Wonwoo is starting to look antsy.

You finally step inside, waving at Mingyu who is already sitting at the table. He’s grinning, as he always is.

Mingyu was the reason you really had friends. Though you knew Seungcheol and Jeonghan in high school, it was only because of Mingyu that the friendship lasted past your first semester, hanging out with them throughout the spring semester, keeping in touch with them over the summer, and even taking a class with Mingyu.

Mingyu is the reason you ever met Wonwoo, and, sitting in class and definitely paying attention to the lab introduction and not staring at the back of Wonwoo’s head, you can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.

You can’t remember who suggested it first, but it was Jihoon who ended up making the server, the first day of fall break. It practically belonged to Wonwoo now, since he was by far the person that played the most. You have no idea how he finds the time to play and do his work and sleep, but every time you log on, he has something shiny and new.

It has been two weeks since the server started. You spent too much of fall break playing and generally leeching off of Wonwoo, but have only logged on a couple times since then. It’s Friday, though, and you even did one of your readings, so you feel like you can afford to spend a few hours working on the base. You aren’t surprised when you log in and Wonwoo is on.

You’re prepared to play on your own, but Wonwoo asks if you want to join a voice chat and there’s no way you’ll say no.

“It’s been so lonely,” Wonwoo says as soon as you join. “No one ever plays.”

“It’s like we’re college students,” you say. You wander around the base, deciding you would keep working on designing the interior with the new types of wood that someone “anonymously” gifted you (you knew it was Wonwoo).

“The trick is to not do anything until the last possible second,” Wonwoo says.

“I can’t say that sounds appealing to me,” you say. “What are you doing right now, anyways?”

“Just prepping for my next project,” Wonwoo says.

“That sounds vaguely suspicious, should I be concerned?”

He’s quiet for a moment. Finally, he asks in a low voice, “Can you keep a secret?”

His voice is just serious enough that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. “Is this real life or in game?”

Wonwoo laughs. “This is in game, though I guess the question technically applies to both.”

“Well, no one knows about the Incident, so at least Mingyu would say yes.”

“He made a fool of himself, didn’t he?”

“I’m sworn to secrecy.”

You decide if making Wonwoo laugh was all you did for the rest of your life it would be worth it. Something about the way his deep voice echoed in your ears made your heart skip a beat.

“Okay, come to Seungcheol’s base,” he says.

“The secret one?” You start heading there when Wonwoo says yes. The second day, Seungcheol decided he wanted to have a secret base, which meant in two minutes everyone had figured out where it was.

At least, where it used to exist. When you get there, Wonwoo is standing around the blown up remains of the Seungcheol’s base, a giant crater created by TNT in the middle of a flower field.

“What happened?”

“Jeonghan,” Wonwoo says.

“You know what, that actually makes sense,” you say. “Didn’t he say he’d only join if Jihoon let him play in creative?”

“Yeah, that was not happening,” he says.

“Is Seungcheol’s stuff still there?” You wander around the crater, seeing the remains of what Seungcheol had built, a few chests that remained.

“I can’t tell,” Wonwoo says. “I’m not really sure what he had to begin with or whether Jeonghan bothered to save his stuff, but the chests that survived seem to be pretty organized.”

“Wait, I still don’t get how he blew up Seungcheol’s house.” You emerge from the hole, standing at its edge beside Wonwoo’s character.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” he says. “I’ve been on this server, like, almost twenty four-seven and I haven’t even seen him on, so I really have no idea how or when he did it.”

“Someone must have helped him,” you say. “Oh my god, there’s an entire conspiracy. We have to get to the bottom of this!”

“Conspiracy?”

“It’s obviously not Seungcheol,” you say. “He’s going to be so mad when he comes back on.” The sun is starting to set. “Can we sleep through the night? I really don’t want to hide for the next ten minutes.”

“Sure,” he says. You return to the base with him, mind still racing trying to figure out who was enabling Jeonghan.

“Obviously it’s not your or me, so that leaves Jihoon and Mingyu.” You think about your two friends. You could see Mingyu doing it, because he was bullied by Seungcheol at least once a day, but usually Jeonghan was also involved, and you know Mingyu’s too busy being a STEM major to really dedicate his time to the game.

So Jihoon? You don’t think he has much motivation, but he has been playing a lot and maybe he had some unknown score to settle with Seungcheol.

“We should set up a stakeout or something,” you say. “Figure out who his supplier is.” The iron door swings shut behind you as you and Wonwoo return to the base.

“A stakeout might be kind of intense,” Wonwoo says.

“Okay, less of a stakeout and more of ‘you keep playing all day every day and find out if anyone is suspicious’ kind of thing.”

“This sounds like I’m going to be doing all the work.”

“Do you not spend most of your time here anyways?” You say. You go into your room and lay in your bed. “Bed!”

“Okay true,” Wonwoo says as the screen fades. “But I actually have an essay due tomorrow and next week so I can’t really be on as much.”

“Wonwoo? Being responsible?” You pretend to be shocked but when he laughs and your heart pounds so loud you forget that you were teasing him.

“So how do we find out who’s helping him?” You ask. “It seems like we don’t have many options.” With the sun back in the sky, you decide you want to work on a tree farm with the generous saplings that had been donated to you.

“We'll investigate together,” Wonwoo says. “Maybe next time Mingyu or Jihoon will leave evidence.”

You nod in approval, though he can’t see you. “Sounds good. I’m going to grind resources for a little while if you want to go back to whatever you were doing.” He’s quiet as you both play, the silence between you not awkward but strangely peaceful. He doesn’t complain when you ask him to sleep every night, even reminding you to get back before the sun sets.

Though you know he’s not nearly as invested as you are, it’s also fun to be in on a conspiracy with him. Maybe it’s just the fact that you have a secret between the two of you, but it makes you feel a tiny bit closer to him. You are finding that everything you learn about him just makes you like him more.

“Should I be worried about how much time you’re playing on this server?” You ask as soon as you join the server.

“No time for that!” Wonwoo says. “I’ve been hit!”

“No way!” You sprint to his section of the base, and indeed, it’s been blown up. Wonwoo had spent hours personalizing what had initially just been a hole in the wall, designing a bunch of rooms with resources from the nether and the end and creating redstone machines that you didn’t even try to comprehend.

Most of that is gone now, a crater even larger than the remains of Seungcheol’s base.

“Oh my god,” you say. “You’ve been nuked.” You join Wonwoo and Seungcheol at the sidelines. It’s been a week since the last attack, and Seungcheol has joined your party of justice. You’re a bit sad that it’s no longer something you had just between you and Wonwoo, but looking at the remains, you couldn’t deny you needed the help.

You take a step forward and there’s an ominous click.

“Yn, run!” Wonwoo shouts. You try to run but you panic, pressing the W instead of the S. You hear hissing and it only worsens your panic.

The first explosion doesn’t kill you but it scares the crap out of you and you can’t help but scream. “Help, help, help!”

“You’re running the wrong direction!” Seungcheol says.

“Stop laughing at me!” You groan as you die in the third explosion. Seungcheol doesn’t stop laughing, but what pains you is you can hear Wonwoo chuckling, too.

“I guess not all of the TNT was blown up,” Seungcheol says through his laughter.

“Evidently,” you say. “I kind of hate this game.” You click on respawn, heading back to the remains of Wonwoo’s base. You stay as far back as possible.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo says. You can tell he’s still trying not to laugh. Traitor.

“It’s not your fault,” you say with a sigh. “Though Jeonghan better watch his back.”

“I’m sure he’s really scared,” Seungcheol says. He wanders carefully around the interior but there doesn’t seem to be any more traps.

“I have our high school yearbook from freshman year.”

“Have I mentioned how much I like you? Really, you’re one of my favorite people, ever,” he says.

“Very convincing,” you say. “Tell Jeonghan to watch his back.”

“Are the pictures really that bad?” Wonwoo asks.

You cackle. “I’ll send them to you.”

“Wait, why does he get them?” Seungcheol whines.

“We’re partners in… not crime,” you say. “Partners in solving crime? Justice?”

“That doesn’t sound right but I want to see the pictures, so, whatever you say.”

“Did you both forget I’m still here?” Seungcheol asks. “Third wheeling?”

“You’re not a third wheel, you’re a part of the team, too!” You say. “Partnership plus Seungcheol.”

“That’s literally a third wheel.”

Wonwoo bursts into laughter.

“Why am I even here?” Seungcheol sighs. He logs out of the game. “I’m going to do actual homework.” He leaves the voice chat.

“Did we just annoy him into doing actual homework?” You ask. You are still standing in the wreckage of Wonwoo’s base as he tries to fix it.

“I guess so,” Wonwoo says. “I don’t think we were actually excluding him or anything, were we?”

“I didn’t think so,” you say. The problem was, when you talked to Wonwoo, you didn’t exactly pay attention to what you were saying to anyone else. Maybe you should work on that.

“So, Mingyu or Jihoon?” You ask because it’s been quiet for too long.

“What?”

“Which one do you think did it? Or, helped Jeonghan, same difference.”

“Oh, right,” Wonwoo says. “I’m still not sure, I didn’t notice anything suspicious about either of them.”

“You aren’t the best at investigating, huh?”

Wonwoo laughs. “No, I’m really not.”

“I guess we could just interrogate them.” You wonder if you’re taking this too seriously, and maybe that’s why Wonwoo isn’t answering. “Or, I mean, it is your base that’s been blown up, so we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”

Wonwoo is quiet a second too long.

“Sorry, I guess it’s really not that big of a deal,” you say.

“It’s not that-”

“It’s okay, I just thought it was funny, I didn’t mean to take it so seriously.”

“Yn-”

“I actually probably should go do some homework too.” You leave the voice chat as quickly as possible, logging out of the game immediately after. It was silly of you to think that Wonwoo wasn’t just entertaining you the entire time, but it still hurt to realize.

You sigh and turn away from your computer, despite the fact that the homework was not just an excuse and you really did have a lot of it. You just didn’t feel very motivated, instead thinking of how you had to somehow face Wonwoo tomorrow and pretend like you didn’t just get heartbroken over a video game.

There’s a gentle poke to your cheek. “You can’t sleep here.”

“Comfy,” you mumble, burying your face deeper into your arms.

“Come on, wouldn’t you rather sleep in your own bed?”

“Sleepy.”

“Come on.” The hand on your shoulder is gentle, but relentless, shaking you until you finally blink awake, sitting up. You instantly feel sore, stretching the arm that had been your pillow.

“How long was I out for?” You ask with a yawn.

“I’m not really sure.”

You freeze. You are 100% that when you fell asleep studying earlier you had been with Mingyu but that was definitely Wonwoo’s voice. You turn your head slowly, finding Wonwoo standing a couple steps behind you. Your heart does its usual gymnastic routine, though it’s worse because you’ve been awake for all of two seconds and Wonwoo looks picture perfect in his sweatshirt and perfectly combed hair.

“What are you doing here?” You try to smooth your hair, praying there’s no red marks on your face.

“Mingyu called because he had… actually he didn’t say what he had, he just said he had to go and that he didn’t want to wake you up, and he just told me to come here and study but the library closes in ten minutes, so we should probably go.” He folds his arm over his chest.

“Right,” you say. You stand up and stretch a little more, still blinking sleep away. You hate finals week. You stuff your computer into your backpack and try to organize the papers around you. Wonwoo steps beside you, trying to help.

“Is there an order to this?” He asks, trying to read your scribbled notes.

“There was once, it doesn’t really matter now,” you say. “The exam is tomorrow and I think I’ve stared at those as much as I can.” He doesn’t say anything else as he helps you gather them and shove them into a folder, sticking it all into your backpack. You turn to leave but he stops you, pointing to the outlet.

“Is that yours?”

“Yes, oh my god.” You grab the charger from the wall, tossing it into your backpack. “Thank you, I would have cried if I lost that.” You do a final sweep of the room, not seeing anything else that’s yours.

“Ready to go?” Wonwoo asks. You make the mistake of glancing at him, leaning against the doorframe with his backpack on his shoulders. He’s been so patient with you it doesn’t feel fair.

You nod, following him out of the room and falling into step beside him. The sleep is finally starting to wear off, and you are beginning to feel awake. The library is beginning to clear out, though you’re surprised at how many people there still are.

“How many tests do you have tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks.

“Just the one.” You sigh as you walk down the steps. “It’s a major requirement but it’s so dumb, it’s not helpful at all.”

“I’m just happy the science class is over,” he says. “No offense,” he adds quickly. “It was really fun to see you twice a week but I’m never letting Mingyu convince me to take a class with him again, that class was horrible.”

You shudder, remembering the final. You can only pray that you passed the test. Your memory is so bad you almost miss Wonwoo’s half compliment. “We should celebrate being free!” You stop in your tracks, just before the exit. “Oh my god, I forgot!”

“Did you leave something in the room?” He asks, turning to face you.

“No!” You grab his sleeve. “I forgot to pay you!”

He frowns. “For Seungcheol?”

You nod.

“That was just a joke,” he says with a laugh. He tugs your hand off of his arm, pulling you to the library doors. “I felt bad even taking the sandwich.”

“I can’t believe I forgot!” You say, ignoring his dismissal. The December air is chilly as you step outside and you pull your jacket tighter around your shoulders.

“You don’t actually owe me anything,” Wonwoo says. “Seriously, it was a joke.”

“No, but I feel bad, I promised you I would do something for you and I completely forgot about it!” You stop him under a streetlight, laying a hand on his wrist. Your breath makes little clouds in the air between you, dissipating quickly in the frigid air. Whatever you were going to say, you forget because Wonwoo is staring at you and he’s practically glowing in the bright light, and you are suddenly reminded of the day he tried to save your life. Knight in shining armor is the phrase that comes to your mind.

Your heart is pounding as you stare at him, unable to look away. His dark eyes, magnified just a little by his thick glasses lenses, stare back at you. Though he’s only a couple of feet away from you, the distance feels like miles.

His lips look a little chapped in the cold air, and you wonder what it would be like to step a little closer and press yours against his, whether they’d be rough or soft, whether he’d kiss you back.

You clear your throat. “I’m sorry anyway.” You’re not sure why you say it, but you finally tear your eyes from his, dropping your hand from his arm when you remember it’s there. You wish you could hold his hand. You stumble back for a couple steps before finally convincing your feet to work. You’re vaguely aware of Wonwoo mumbling, “Don’t worry about it,” and falling into step next to you.

He walks you to your car, neither of you daring to say anything after the strange moment. You’re struggling to think straight, especially with him still at your side. More than anything, you need your bed.

“I’ll see you later,” he says when you open the door. You force yourself to smile and wave goodnight to him before getting into your car. You lay your head against the wheel, wondering why you can’t just pretend like these feelings don’t exist.

There was no way Wonwoo didn’t think that was awkward, and you were now going to spend the rest of the night wondering just why you couldn’t stop staring at him when you should be studying for finals.

Maybe you should just drop out.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Wonwoo says. You join the voice chat before your game loads, but before you can say anything, he’s stammering. “I swear, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this!”

“What are you talking about?” You say, but a second later your game loads and you have no words. When you left a couple days ago, you had been in the middle of your base, logging off after spending a couple hours perfecting the hallway design (the trick was to mix and match the different types of stone).

It’s all gone now. You spawn in a crater of what you hand spent all your time on, barely recognizable amidst the remains. You see Wonwoo character appear and realize that the explosion had just happened, blocks littered around you.

“Wonwoo,” you say slowly, trying to understand what was happening around you. Everything you had worked on, gone.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he says again.

You start to understand, though it doesn’t make sense. “It’s been you? All this time?”

He says nothing, character in front of you as frozen as you feel inside.

“I can explain,” he finally says.

“No, I get it,” you say. “Actually it makes way more sense, you’re the only one who spends enough time to really supply him.” You try not to let the hurt show in your voice. It made perfect sense, really. What you didn’t understand is why he lied, why he played along with you when it was him all along. How many times had you talked to him about thinking it was Jihoon today, or Mingyu the next? You feel embarrassed, now, knowing how stupid you sounded.

“Jeonghan wasn’t supposed to destroy everything,” he says softly.

“Is that why you think I’m upset?” You’re not being fair, but you don’t particularly care right now. It shouldn't hurt, but it does. “Because my shit got blown up?” You log out of the game, staring at the discord chat. You and Wonwoo are the only ones online, which is good because you really don’t want anyone walking in on this conversation.

“You spent the entire time on the server working on it,” he mumbles.

You laugh. “I spent my entire time on the server hanging out with you,” you say. It’s good you're behind a screen because otherwise you would never have the confidence to do this, even if that made you a coward. “I really don’t care about Minecraft, Wonwoo. I like you.”

It’s so quiet you can hear your heart pounding over your headphones. You’re frozen, unable to click out of the voice chat though you know the silence is your answer, and every second that he doesn’t say anything means is him trying to figure out how to say that your feelings are unrequited and you just ruined the friendship.

Okay, completely ruined might be an exaggeration but it won’t ever be the same and it made you sick to your stomach that you had just blurted it out because you were butthurt about a dumb game.

“Did you really just confess to me over discord?” Wonwoo says. It's always been impossible to decipher how he feels from his voice but you’re going crazy trying to figure out if he really doesn’t sound mad or it's just your wishful thinking.

“Um. I guess so?”

He laughs, that stupid laugh that makes your heart flip in spite of the fact that you’re terrified. “I’m sorry, this is just the worst way to do this, you seriously couldn’t wait one more week?”

“You really don’t have to make me feel any more stupid than I already do,” you say.

“Oh my god, no, that’s not what I mean!” He says quickly. “Yn, I like you, too.”

“Oh.” Oh.

“I just didn’t think it was the best idea to tell you over discord,” he says.

“Yeah, that would be really dumb,” you say, trying to get your brain to comprehend anything other than I like you, too.

“If you waited literally one week, I would have told you in person,” he says. “I had a plan and everything. Actually, I had a plan to do it after finals but I sort of chickened out and then we both went back home and I had to reschedule, but I swear I was actually going to do it.”

“Right,” you say. “Wait, what? I really have no idea what’s going on, I can’t believe you actually like me back.”

“You’re an idiot,” he says. “How could I not?”

You have no answer to that, realizing that any insecurity you tell him would be shot down.

“I can’t believe this is how I told you,” Wonwoo says.

“I can pretend I didn’t hear you?”

You smile at his laugh, his voice sending a shock straight to your heart. “Or we could just meet up the second you’re back?”

“Like a date?”

“If that’s what you want,” he says. “It’s what I want, if I’m not being clear,” he adds quickly.

You wonder if you’ll ever stop smiling. “Yeah, I definitely want.” Eventually your vocabulary will return. Hopefully.

“So it’s a date?” Wonwoo asks.

You open your mouth to answer but there’s a ding and someone else joins the voice chat.

“Hey, perfect!” Jeonghan says. “Yn, I’m supposed to apologize for blowing up your base, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Actually, that’s what Wonwoo told me to say but honestly I’m really tired of listening to the both of you flirt without actually doing anything and I blew it up on purpose so that I can now say this: yn, Wonwoo likes you. Wonwoo, yn likes you. Have fun!” There’s another ding and he’s gone.

“I don’t know if I’m more mad that he planned that or that it sort of worked,” Wonwoo says.

“Yeah, he actually makes no sense,” you say.

“And yet it worked,” Wonwoo says. You wish you could see the face he’s making now, wondering if he’s smiling like you are.

“So, it’s a date?” He asks again.

Yes,” you say. “It’s a date.”

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

Text

The Beach House

Boo Seungkwan x fem!Reader

Genre: E2L!au + one bed trope // some comedy, some angsty, some romance-y, very slow burn-ish

Words: 9,8k

Warnings: some curse words, mentions of injuries, a concussion, food mentions, uuuh heartbreak…

[Enemies to Lovers AU] Maybe Vernon made a mistake by inviting both you and Seungkwan to the beach house, or maybe he was smarter than the two of you combined.

Note: posted for SeventeenWeeklyNet’s weekly prompt (“beach”); dedicated to my bestie @luvlino <3

“What are you doing here?”

You scoffed at your own question: he was Vernon’s best friend, his platonic half, his partner-in-crime – of course he’d be invited along.

As if reading your mind, Seungkwan dropped his suitcase to the ground and raised an accusing eyebrow. “I’m good company. What is your excuse?”

Vernon, the start of it all, stood clueless between the two of you. His doe-eyes soon narrowed as his brows fell into a frown. “I keep forgetting you two don’t get along.”

“Then your brain must be just as empty as hers somehow,” Seungkwan shot back and crossed his arms over his chest, still glaring at you. But at this point, you were finding it hard to feel insulted by his increasingly unoriginal ways of offending you.

Keep reading

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

Text

the long way | yoon jeonghan

summary | it was just like any other shoot. go in, pose, drink water, don't get food on the clothes, and don't joke around with the staff. easy. except it wasn't that easy. genre | just fluff, model!jeonghan warnings | swearing (?), like one innuendo word count | 2.2k words pairing | yoon jeonghan x gn!reader min | lowercase intended @i-luvsang likes to torture me with this concept so here it is. you're welcome. i may have diverged a little from your original concept... i actually don't think there's any language in here. i tried to make this gender-neutral, but if anyone finds a fem!reader pronoun please let me know!

jeonghan liked his job. really, he did. what was there to complain about it? it was an easy, not to mention, fun life. he liked traveling. he liked the different foods he got to try. he liked the nice clothes he got to wear during photoshoots. he would be lying if he said he never stole some of the clothes that he got to wear. he especially enjoyed chatting with the staff.

they were usually amiable with him and entertained his antics. sometimes he even got a genuine laugh out of a few photographers too.

but sometimes, just chatting was boring. especially when the conversations were cut short by photographers calling him back to get a few more shots or make-up artists coming up to him to touch up his make-up. so jokes in between shots and lipstick touch-ups were a must.

today was no different. he had to advertise for the brand that he was an ambassador for, and he was thoroughly enjoying himself. the clothes were comfortable, the air temperature was just right, and his audience was readily accepting of his jokes.

half of the time he couldn't remember the point of his jokes. he just said whatever came to mind. sometimes he was monologuing his thoughts and people would laugh. it did boost his ego, though. his inner voice was funny enough to garner laughs without even trying

as jeonghan was setting up for another shot, the photographer asked him to fix his stance. "i need you to spread your legs a bit more, jeonghan," the photographer asked. jeonghan had worked with him a few times, so he felt comfortable cracking a slightly inappropriate joke. "wow, mingyu, i thought you'd ask me out on a date first. already trying to get between my legs," jeonghan chuckled, fixing his stance. mingyu only rolled his eyes and went back to adjusting his camera settings.

that joke got a few laughs.

but it was jeonghan. he needed at least seventy-five percent of the staff to laugh at least one of his jokes. what else was he supposed to do when he was there? stand there and look good, yes, but no.

besides, he needed to test his standup on a live unsuspecting audience.

so that's how the rest of the shoot went. jeonghan finding ways to make puns here and throw a few sexual innuendos there. he appeared to be a hit, and that's all he wanted.

that is until he made some half-assed joke that he didn't even think about when he heard something. something so.... attractive. a laugh. from someone who had not laughed at his jokes until the lamest one he had cracked all day. he glanced over his shoulder in the direction that he heard it and his eyes landed on you. you were covering your face with a hand while the other clutched a tray of drinks and a binder tucked under your arm.

he made eye contact and quirked an eyebrow at you. you instantly averted your gaze to the ground and fumbled around for your phone.

cute, he thought.

he needed to hear it again.

for the remaining hour on set he tried and tried to get to you laugh again, but much to his dismay you were on the phone for most of the time.

soon enough he was out of the clothes and into his regular day clothes. the stylist quickly removed the extravagant make-up, and he swiftly grabbed his bag so he could find you.

as he ran out of the dressing room and onto the set. he scanned the room in search of you, and caught a glimpse of your silhouette walking out the door toward the city and not toward the back where the cars were. "jeonghan, are you coming?" his manager called to him. "the car is waiting." jeonghan shook his head and watched as the door closed behind you. "i'm actually going to walk home today. this was the last activity scheduled today, right?" jeonghan stated. even if it wasn't the last thing he had to do today, he had more important things in mind.

"uh, yes, that's all. but are sure you want to walk alone?" his manager questioned.

"i think bringing people with me garners more attention than me just walking by myself," he shrugged. so with that he swung his coat over his shoulders, hat on head, and left the same way you went.

he saw the back of your head make its way through the surprisingly empty street. he checked his watch and realized that it was right before rush hour. he jogged to catch up with you.

he was so close to you now. he could probably reach out and grab your hand if he wanted to, but that would be weird. he didn't even know your name.

how could he even approach you? "hi i'm jeonghan. i thought your laugh was pretty-" wait was that too personal? too forward?

he was so deep in thought, he didn't notice the way you tensed up when he got too close. suddenly you whipped around, "are you following me?"

he paused with a wide-eyed look plastered on his face. this was not the way it was supposed to go. "well, yes. but, not- not in the weird way," he tried to clarify. he looked slightly frantic, he looked worried. you examined his distinctive features. "oh, mr. yoon. i didn't recognize you with your hat on," you laughed.

there it was.

"please, just jeonghan is fine," he assured.

"okay, just jeonghan."

ha, you were pretty witty too. he held out his hand for you to shake. "___," you introduced yourself.

amazing.

"are you on your way to anything important?" he asked after looking at you for a bit longer. you glanced down at your phone and around the street. "i was actually going back to the office to drop this off," you said motioning to the large file bag you held.

"i can accompany you, if you want," jeonghan offered. "if you're not too weirded out by me at this point."

"oh, no. i'm not weirded out. i'm just surprised. i mean, you are a model. models i usually work with don't talk with staff much," you mentioned before starting off walking again. he followed quickly behind you. "so would you say i'm different from other models you've met," he asked playfully.

"yes i suppose. for one, models don't usually joke around on set as much as you do," you noted, glancing down at your phone hoping he wouldn't notice how he was making your heart speed up. "they're a bit too serious sometimes. you were nice though."

jeonghan felt a bit proud of that.

he filled the rest of the walk with pleasant conversation. lightly brushing against your arm. he got you to laugh about ten more times through the walk.

yes, he was counting.

you took him through the park and chatted

"well, this is me," you said standing in front of the large building. he looked up, and he instantly recognized the logo plastered on the door. "wait, you work for-" he started.

"yes, i work for the brand that you are an ambassador for," you giggled. "why else would i be at the shoot? did i not mention all the other models i've had to worked with?"

jeonghan was utterly baffled. "yes. i mean you did. i just, i don't know i wasn't really focused on that part. maybe you just wanted to see a handsome man like myself," he tried to recover.

"well, seeing handsome men like yourself is in my job description. i have to make sure our ambassadors are representing us well," you nudged his arm, and he felt like he could burst with joy.

"well i didn't expect someone as attractive as yourself would work for a place like corporate," he attempted at gaining his confidence back. it appeared to work.

you scoffed lightheartedly and looked away from him. "you flatter me too much, jeonghan," you laughed and looked back at him. suddenly you heard your name being called. "___! there you are, i've been looking for you for the past hour," your co-worker (well more like friend since you had known her since forever) called. you glanced between her and jeonghan. "hey, i'm sorry. i got a little - distracted," you explained apologetically to your obviously frazzled friend.

"really, its my fault. i must've made the walk a bit slower. the park was just so nice today," jeonghan commented, glancing at you hoping that you would look back at him again.

"the park? that's the long way around, you could've taken-" your friend started before you clasped your hands on her shoulders. "well, i seriously do have to bring this back to my manager. thank you for walking with me, it was very kind of you," you said smiling at him.

"of course," he smiled. he held your eyes for a moment before you chuckled quietly and turned away with your friend. "goodbye," he called after you.

"bye," you replied back, only turning your head slightly towards him. you exchanged hushed whispers as the two of you made your way up to the entrance. "isn't that yoon jeonghan?" your friend quizzed. "he's the one who was at the shoot you went to, right? why'd you take him through the park? you know that's the long way. it adds like fifteen minutes to your walk."

"yeah, yeah, i know, he was just so easy to talk to. i needed an excuse to talk to him longer. plus, his laugh was super cute," you remarked.

it had been maybe an hour or two since you had said your goodbye to jeonghan downstairs. you hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. how sweet and kind he was. he wasn't too full of himself like some of the other models were, but confident enough to make your heart beat a bit faster than usual. to top it all off, he was genuinely funny too.

you weren't exactly sure how you were supposed to just - forget about him. you worked with many models for the past few years, and sure most of them were nice. just not as nice as jeonghan.

you checked the clock and realized that there were only about thirty minutes left until you could clock out. maybe if you showered when you got home you could get jeonghan's cologne out of your senses.

as you sent your last email of the day and logged out of your computer, you began to gather your things from your desk. unfortunately, you were a bit too preoccupied to notice how the room outside of your office stilled. you were grabbing a few things that fell onto the floor.

then you heard someone clear their throat from your door. "uh, ___, someone is here to see you," one of your other co-workers said.

"uh, i just clocked out, but i can definitely add them on my calendar first thing tomorr-" you trailed off as you lifted your head and saw jeonghan standing outside your office behind the very nervous-looking receptionist.

"i'm afraid that won't work for me," jeonghan sighed absentmindedly looking around your office, hands clasped behind his back.

"mina, you can go," you told the receptionist. mina nodded and ran off. jeonghan stepped into your office and gently closed the door. "this is a surprise, mr. yoon," you said standing up.

"hopefully a welcome one," he joked. "and please, i was gone for a couple hours and you forgot i'm just jeonghan?" you stifled a laugh. "please do not feel like you need to contain you laughter from me, ___," he assured. you nodded a silent, but happy, agreement. "well, jeonghan. what is the occasion for this visit? were you unhappy with something today during the shoot?" you asked, approaching him. "and if tomorrow morning does not work to discuss this matter, i can figure something else out or i-"

"no. it's actually the opposite. i had a great time today. i think my only complaint is that you have not been there for the past few times i've modeled for this brand," he said getting closer to you. you could smell his cologne again and you knew you were in for it. "also, tomorrow morning won't work because i wanted to see if you were free tonight to get dinner with me, that is, unless you prefer breakfast," he smiled.

you were dumbfounded.

jeonghan was here. after hours. asking you out on a date. he was funny, kind, and not to mention quite attractive. you had been thinking about him for the whole day daydreaming about him, and he was here looking very handsome and very sincere. and who were you to decline such a tempting offer?

"how would you know that i would say yes?" you asked as the two of you walked out of the building.

"well for one, you didn't take the subway like a normal person would. secondly, you added a whole extra fourteen minutes to your walk because you skipped the subway and went through the park," he shrugged.

"were you counting?" you giggled and nudged his shoulder playfully.

"and what if i was? and what if i was counting every time you laughed at something i said today? what if i said that was the fifteenth time i've made you laugh today?"

"i might have to kiss you then."

"please do."

min | wow. that was sort of disgustingly cute. am i good a fluff, maybe? im softening with age i think. leave feedback and reblog if you want! it's appreciated. not proofread

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

Note

can i get uhhh one short seungkwan ice cream fluff :thinking emoji:

melting for you || bsk

"An impromptu ice cream date with your friend, Seungkwan, ends unexpectedly."

🍦 Paring: friend!Seungkwan x Reader (gn)

🍦 Rating/Genres/AUs: PG-13; Fluff, friends to lovers

🍦 Warnings: None! (but ofc lmk if I missed something)

🍦 Word Count: 1k

🍦 Author's Note: Order up! Thanks, anon 😉 We're going to ignore how late this is lol. Happy first Boo Seungkwan fic on my blog woo <333 (also, if there are parts that make this non-gn, plz lmk!)

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

“Chocolate again?” A teasing snicker erupted behind you.

You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Despite this, you peered over your shoulder to show your friend the best eye roll known to humanity.

Seungkwan laughed, not affected by your sassy response.

“Why change something that’s already good?” you argued.

“To be adventurous,” he replied and stepped closer.

You kept eye contact with him when he neared. The rapid beating of your heart was a dead giveaway of how you’ve grown to like him as more than a friend.

Seungkwan leaned in as he whispered in your ear, blonde hair tickling your cheek, “Maybe you should try something new with me.”

The sentence was simplistic. It had no foul language and wasn’t alluding to anything inappropriate, yet your brain thought otherwise. Try something new as in cross the friendship line you had drawn in your head? It surely would be an adventure, but you weren’t sure if it would be a delightful one or a dreadful one. Dreadful if the feelings aren't reciprocated.

Seungkwan’s chuckle broke you from your thoughts. He stepped back, and you inhaled deeply, not noticing how you had held your breath.

“I’m more comfortable with things I already know,” you mumbled, turning around in hopes he didn’t see how flustered you were.

“Sorry,” you said to the cashier you ended up ignoring. “Do I pay here?”

The cashier smiled and shook their head. “It’s been paid for already. You can just wait over there until it’s done.”

You furrowed your brows. You definitely did not pay yet. You opened your mouth to protest, but Seungkwan’s voice stopped yours.

“Can I get a double green tea scoop, please?”

Then you realized.

It was he who paid for it. It had to be.

You stared at your friend with accusing eyes as he completed his order. He must have done that when he cornered you earlier. That sly little—

“Scoot over, silly,” Seungkwan said playfully, ignoring your glare and leading you to the side so the next customers could order.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you huffed.

Seungkwan shrugged and slipped his wallet back into his pants pocket.

“You tell me that too many times,” he sighed.

“That’s because you pay for me too many times,” you explained.

Seungkwan smiled, grabbing both your ice creams that were done. He handed you yours and guided you to an empty table.

“And every time I’ll tell you the same thing: I do it because I want to,” he said before taking a spoonful of his ice cream into his mouth.

Before you could argue again, he shook his head and gestured to your melting dessert.

“Don’t waste my money. Eat your ice cream.” Although his words could be seen as harsh, his teasing tone told you he wasn’t mad at all.

You watched him for a second longer before obliging. You’ve already tried the flavor before, yet it still tasted just as amazing as the first time.

Seungkwan observed you silently as he ate his ice cream, a small smile on his lips.

You noticed his lingering gaze and suddenly felt shy.

“Did you want some?” you asked, holding out your ice cream cup to him.

“Might as well try it since you always get this. I hope it doesn’t disappoint,” he commented and scooped some up in his spoon.

You eyed him while he consumed the treat. His lips curled upward as he pulled the spoon from his lips—lips which you found yourself staring at a little too long.

“It’s good,” he reviewed, “but good enough to get it every time?”

For the second time that day, you rolled your eyes, earning another laugh from Seungkwan that had your skin heat despite the chilly treat you were eating.

You pushed down the warm feelings that kept resurfacing in your chest for the next twenty minutes. Seungkwan spoke about his recent get-together with his friends, but frankly, you weren’t listening as well as you should’ve been.

By the time Seungkwan walked you to your car, you were peering anywhere but at him. You had hoped your flickering gazes went unnoticed by Seungkwan, but that was wishful thinking.

“You’ve been acting strange today,” he said.

“How so?” you wondered, eyes squinting from the bright sun. Seungkwan smiled softly and adjusted himself so you could see him easier.

“You seem…distracted,” he commented.

“I just have too many thoughts up here,” you replied, a finger tapping on your head.

Seungkwan chuckled, “Am I in one of them?”

“I-in one of what?” you questioned while gazing down at the keys in your hands.

“Your thoughts.”

You sputtered as you tried to speak a coherent sentence. In the end, you simply answered, “No.”

Seungkwan’s mouth dropped slightly in a silent “ah.” It was obvious he did not believe you, but to keep what little sanity you had, you imagined he did.

“Can I do something?” Seungkwan asked.

Your sight moved back to him, eyebrows knitting together at his sudden request. Seungkwan took a small step closer and carefully raised a hand to your cheek. Although you weren’t sure what he was going to do initially, you had a pretty good idea about it now.

“Yes,” you answered.

Seungkwan’s smile was the last thing you saw before you shut your eyes. His lips on yours were soft. If your heart was jogging at the mere sound of his laughter, it was now sprinting from the simple kiss.

Seungkwan was the first to pull away. You were left a little dazed–half tempted to pinch yourself in case it was a dream.

“Am I in your thoughts now?” he smirked, a hint of mischief in his tone.

“You never left,” you confessed quietly.

Seungkwan grinned, a thumb brushing your lower lip as he replied. “I know.”

If it weren’t for him leaning in for another kiss, you would’ve combatted his smugness with a clever comeback. However, that would have to wait for another time.

Why was the mint ice cream so good at poker?

Because it had so many chips.

©️mimikookie // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

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The Beach House

Boo Seungkwan x fem!Reader

Genre: E2L!au + one bed trope // some comedy, some angsty, some romance-y, very slow burn-ish

Words: 9,8k

Warnings: some curse words, mentions of injuries, a concussion, food mentions, uuuh heartbreak…

[Enemies to Lovers AU] Maybe Vernon made a mistake by inviting both you and Seungkwan to the beach house, or maybe he was smarter than the two of you combined.

Note: posted for SeventeenWeeklyNet’s weekly prompt (“beach”); dedicated to my bestie @luvlino <3

“What are you doing here?”

You scoffed at your own question: he was Vernon’s best friend, his platonic half, his partner-in-crime – of course he’d be invited along.

As if reading your mind, Seungkwan dropped his suitcase to the ground and raised an accusing eyebrow. “I’m good company. What is your excuse?”

Vernon, the start of it all, stood clueless between the two of you. His doe-eyes soon narrowed as his brows fell into a frown. “I keep forgetting you two don’t get along.”

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

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13 Days, 13 Men, 13 AUs #1

BOO SEUNGKWAN + neighbours au

words: 3,5k /// genre: fluff, strangers to lovers /// warnings: some food mentions. mentions of thievery once or twice.

In which you’re starting to think your neighbour’s dog is Cupid in an earthly disguise.

The knock on your door sounded about as sheepish as the smile of the man waiting behind it.

“Hi,” he begins, searching for words to exchange with a neighbour he’s known for three days and never really properly spoken to; he rubs his hands together and glances around anxiously, “you wouldn’t have–”

He interrupts himself with a shake of his head and a small smile. “Have you, by any chance or miracle, really, seen… a small white dog passing by?”

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

Text

The Beach House

Boo Seungkwan x fem!Reader

Genre: E2L!au + one bed trope // some comedy, some angsty, some romance-y, very slow burn-ish

Words: 9,8k

Warnings: some curse words, mentions of injuries, a concussion, food mentions, uuuh heartbreak…

[Enemies to Lovers AU] Maybe Vernon made a mistake by inviting both you and Seungkwan to the beach house, or maybe he was smarter than the two of you combined.

Note: posted for SeventeenWeeklyNet’s weekly prompt (“beach”); dedicated to my bestie @luvlino <3

“What are you doing here?”

You scoffed at your own question: he was Vernon’s best friend, his platonic half, his partner-in-crime – of course he’d be invited along.

As if reading your mind, Seungkwan dropped his suitcase to the ground and raised an accusing eyebrow. “I’m good company. What is your excuse?”

Vernon, the start of it all, stood clueless between the two of you. His doe-eyes soon narrowed as his brows fell into a frown. “I keep forgetting you two don’t get along.”

Keep reading

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

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seventeen as the seasons

warnings: i am so sorry to the southern hemisphere i did say that october was fall 🧎🏼

a/n: i wrote this instead of doing my hw as an apology for not uploading the epilogue of aml yet... i promise its almost done pls don't hate me

✿ seungcheol is fall, but right at the beginning of it ↳ he is like warm days but cool evenings, when the days are beginning to get shorter and you start to feel the warm sleepiness of the fall. he's the excitement for the holidays to come, and the giddiness of seeing the first of the trees turn into orange. The beginning of school, the beginning of busy days and long evenings. he's the joy of finding your favorite candle back in stock and burning it for much too long, exciting yourself for the cold days to come. he's the feeling of nostalgia when you find old memories of the bright nights of summertime and the longing for new stories to tell.

✿ jeonghan is fall, the entire month of october ↳ he is bright orange paper leaves that line shop windows and spooky plastic decorations on suburban lawns. he's the exhilirating feeling you get while walking through a haunted house, the feeling of being scared, but knowing you're safe in someone's arms. he's the excitement of seeing your favorite candy in your bucket and wearing a silly costume to make someone laugh. he's the warmth of watching a scary movie with a group of friends while making jokes through the whole thing.

✿ joshua is the beginning of summer ↳ he is cool mornings with dew still on the grass and bright and sunny days full of laughter and sweat. he's a day spent by the water surrounded by the sound of splashing and shenanigans. he's a bright colored popsicle that stains your tongue and leaves you craving the taste of raspberries for the rest of the day. he's the sharp feeling of tip toeing across the hot pavement before the relief of sticking your feet into the pool. he's the giddiness of planning a road trip to another city with your closest friends.

✿ jun is spring, right as the snow is melting to reveal bright green grass ↳ he is the smell of fresh morning dew lining the leaves, the smell of fresh flowers tickling your nose to excite you for the warmer days to come. he's bright colored cardigans and sweaters to keep you warm, but excite you for the flowers in their bloom. he's tulip farms that are clothed in various shades of pinks and purples and yellows and oranges. he's the softness of the breeze that makes you wrap your arms a little tighter around yourself as you walk out to feel the sunlight. he's the warmth of the sun and the softness of pastels. he's hastily planned picnics with your lover on checkered blankets.

✿ soonyoung is summer evenings spent at carnivals with friends ↳ he's the screams of joy on loopy rollercoasters while clutching on the hand of your lover. he's funnel cake dinners and ice cream sundae desserts. he's the feeling of pride after winning the largest teddy bear in the game. he is the warm glow of the boardwalk lights that make your skin shine against the indigo night. he is fireworks that boom in the sky and feel electric in your bones. he's the feeling of awe when you get to the top of the ferris wheel and see how small the world looks from above. he's the feeling of air escaping your lungs and rushing back in on the up and down of the rollercoasters. he's pink and blue cotton candy and the rush of sugar you feel in your body.

✿ wonwoo is the thick of winter ↳ he is the feeling of surprise you get when you swear you're used to the cold until you feel the bite of the wind. he's the feeling of bliss when you finally find yourself by the fire. he is icy hands desperate to find themselves in the warmth of a lover. he's the warm sweetness of a mug of hot chocolate sliding down your throat. he's the silliness of having to switch which hand to hold your book and which hand can be warm in the blanket. he's the child-like happiness when you wake up to see a blanket of white outside and know there's not going to be school that day. he's snowball fights and snowmen and snow angels and red noses that come with it. he is mitten-clad hands trying to clumsily hold on to each other on frozen ponds.

✿ jihoon is the icy winter evenings ↳ he is nights spent under multiple blankets. he is pajamas with the pants tucked into fuzzy socks and red checkered tops. he is the sound of the wind howling with snow, but feeling warm inside. he is hearty bowls of soup with steam that feels biting against your frozen cheeks but make your whole body relax in its warmth. he is curling up beside your lover and cringing when their icy toes find their way onto your skin but melting into the comfort of their touch. he's the sense of relief of cancelled plans, of slipping off uncomfortable shoes to curl back up on the couch. he is the soft jazz holiday music playing to mask the sound of the wind as you dance with your lover, gliding across the floor in fuzzy socks.

✿ seokmin is springtime, when the flowers are blooming and the sunlight is is coming down in cascades ↳ he is pops of pastel colors and the sweetness of pink colored candy that fills every one of your senses. He is the pink cherry blossoms that you long to see every year, the yearning and the joy of finally standing under falling petals. he is the sneak peek of long sunny days after long cold nights. he is the feeling of excitement after finally putting your coats away and opting for something lighter. he's the melody of birds finding their way back after hiding from the cold. he's the earnestness of the trees getting their leaves back, the feeling that something new is about to begin, something good and something sweet.

✿ mingyu is early summer mornings ↳ he is the feeling of waking up to darkness to feel the cool breeze against your tired face right before the sun rises. he is the candy colored sky as the sun begins to creep over the horizon, the shades of pink and purple that paint the sky. he is the smell of dew and the sound of birds beginning their songs. he's the sontentment of waking up before your lover and watching their movements as they reach over to find you in their sleep. he's exhilaration of an early morning jog, the feeling of warmth that surprises you after a few minutes of chilliness. he's the excitement of the brightness to come, of the memories to be made, the stories to be told.

✿ minghao is fall mornings when every breeze brings colorful leaves to the ground ↳ he is color all around. shades of orange and gold and brown against a background of sunrise -- pinks and purples on a bright sky. he is the crunch of leaves as you step on them, a reminder that another year is nearing its end. he is the contentment of early morning walks, with jackets that begin to feel too warm after half an hour, but cheeks that sting from the chilly wind. he is the brightness of gold leaves that shine even in the piles of leaves that find their way together. he is the joy of jumping into a pile of leaves as a child, the earnestness of raking them back into a neat mound only to jump in once again. he is the scent of pumpkin spice wafting from bakeries and candle shops on early walks and sigh of relief after the first sip of a hot cup of coffee.

✿ seungkwan is rainy spring days that quickly disappear into sunny afternoons ↳ he is petrichor, the smell of freshly dried rain. he is sunlight escaping through gray clouds. he is gold that forms cracks in a dark sky, like kintsugi, like art. he is the crashes of thunder that suddenly give way to the harmonies of bird songs. he is the child-like excitement of jumping into puddles with bright colored rain puddles. he is the vibrant blue that hides behind stormy skies. he is rainbows of promises of brightness to come. he is the feeling of running from the rain while holding hands with your lover. he is the reflections in puddles, backlit by the sun as you finally enjoy the cascades of sunshine on your skin.

✿ vernon is winter mornings without snow... warm enough to trick you into believing it's spring ↳ he is the feeling of giddiness when your favorite t-shirt makes a comeback for the day without being hidden by a puffy winter coat. he's the sunlight reflecting on puddles in the street, bright enough to make you squint your eyes, and warm enough to make you think there are even flowers on the trees. he's the extra bright blue that makes you wonder if the sky has ever been this blue. he's the crowded parks and sidewalks, full of people who want to bask in the sun. he's the feeling of suddenly longing for picnics with your lover, and longing for bright pastels and hours of sunshine. he's the feeling of yearning when the day ends too soon and the night brings the icy wind once again.

✿ dino is the middle of summer when the sun is at its highest and the days are longest ↳ he is the stickiness of the summer heat, the glow of sunlight on skin. he's the bright blue sky with no clouds to hide the sun. he's the feeling of tenderness from a sunburn, but the contentment of wanting to go back out again tomorrow. he's the sleepiness of midday heat, of laying by the fan and falling asleep with only the blanket of summer heat on you. he's waking up from a nap and still seeing the sun out, of asking your friends what the next plan is. he is the feeling of giddiness of saying "the day is still young" at 6 p.m., because the sun is still at its zenith. he's the happy numbness in your mouth from eating an ice cream cone too quickly. he is the sweet kisses that taste like cotton candy that leave you wanting more. he is the shock of brightness after taking off your sunglasses to see the blinding glory of sunlight.

taglist: @spidersohn @nvmbheart @yksthings @iamxelia @alonelystarfish @celestialchans @coveyland @xuimhao @jinnyoungcheeks @2degreesoflove

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sweet-citrus-candy · 1 year

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- ̗̀ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 ˎˊ-

✏︎ pairing: teacher!vernon x teacher!yn (gn)

✏︎ synopsis: falling for the young and flirty high school history teacher is inevitable especially when he pays for your groceries and calls himself your work husband

✏︎ genre: fluff, romance, comedy

✏︎ warnings: food/drinks, innuendos, insecurities, language, mutual pining (you know that feeling you get when you really like somebody but you can't bring yourself to tell them so all you can do is enjoy the moment that you're spending with them? it's that), skinship, spirit week/rallies should be a warning itself imo, everything that happens in the last chapter

✏︎ wc: 8.8k

✏︎ a/n: the full vernon work husband fic is finally here ahh!! this one is dedicated to those with secret crushes and those who are too shy to confess. I hope this au can give you a bit of comfort, joy, and happiness. please let me know if I missed any warnings! + comments and reviews are always appreciated. I finished editing this A LOT faster than I imagined so pls enjoy my bbs <3

“I need you to go on a double date with me.”

Your friend’s question appears out of nowhere and catches you off-guard. Some of the latte you drink dribbles out of your mouth, runs down your chin, and splatters on your slacks. Your friend quickly leans over the table and takes your cup out of your hand, handing you some napkins. You wipe your chin and dab away at your slacks, groaning at the thought of returning to class and standing in front of your science class with prominently stained pants – cinnamon oat milk flavored if it honestly matters.

“Absolutely not,” you put the soaked napkins on the table and grab a wet wipe from Jeonghan’s stretched hand. He learned to always be prepared when it comes to you – it’s not very often he doesn’t see you with some weird stain on your clothes; after all, you are an Environmental Science teacher.

“Come on, Yn,” he whines while you rub furiously at the stain with the wipe. “I didn’t even tell you when or where the date is going to take place. How could you reject me so quickly?”

“Jeonghan, I really don’t have time right now,” you sigh and drop the wipe next to the wet napkins. He stares at you with pleading eyes, his hands in prayer. “You know how busy I get whenever Spring Break is almost here. We have midterms this week, there’s the spirit rally, and not to mention my errands…” you trail.

“But what if the person I’m meeting is sketchy?” he sulks.

“Then they should be the one afraid because you’re the sketchiest person I know,” you exclaim. “Where did you even meet them in the first place?”

“Tinder,” he takes a sip of his Iced Americano and places the glass cup back down on the beige café table.

“You know what…” you let the thought marinate in your head for a brief moment. “You’re right. They actually might be sketchier than you are.”

He quickly nods his head in agreement. To him, this is a more than good enough reason for you to go on the double date with him.

“But I’m not going on a double date with you. People already get the wrong idea about us.”

In the middle of the same café, Seungkwan thanks the barista at the cash register and walks over to the side of the counter to wait for his coffee. While stuffing his wallet into his back pocket, Seungkwan’s eyes gloss over the several artisanal coffee bean bags and teas on display along the white café walls before his eyes wander to the several people sitting in the café. His head gently bops to the music playing in the background while he people watches. There are a few college students hunched over their laptops and a couple of people near the windows having lunch. Sitting in the corner of the room is a familiar face he’s seen on social media and sometimes in passing when he drops by Vernon’s classroom for lunch.

You seem to be bantering with the guy sitting across from you, but Seungkwan can’t hear anything from where he’s standing. From the looks of it, his friend’s earlier apprehensions about your lunch plans seem to be confirmed. His cellphone vibrates in his hand, and he flips it open to look at the text from the same friend who stayed up worrying last night:

[text from: nonie]

nonie: wyd? i'm bored rn bc yn isn't here

kwan: apparently looking at yn on a date

nonie: should I be concerned?

kwan: yeah you should be bc he's pretty handsome

kwan: should be you tho

nonie: see? I told you it was a date bc they styled their hair differently

kwan: but don’t people normally dress differently for dates?

nonie: but yn always dresses nicely bc they spend too much time deciding what they're going to wear for the day. like they even take into consideration the weather changes throughout the day.

nonie: so nice hair = extra effort

kwan: I’m begging you to go get a life

nonie: bro call me

kwan: i'm picking up my coffee now. byeee

“You see my wallet?” Jeonghan opens his black wallet in front of him like a picture book for you to see. He tips it forward and opens it slightly so you can see the bills stacked neatly against each other. “I will literally pay you to go on this double date with me. If anything, maybe the friend will be hot and Vernon will get jealous and actually ask you out.”

You roll your eyes at him and motion for him to put his wallet away. You can’t believe he came prepared with his monetary bribe. “But Vernon doesn’t seem like the type to get jealous.”

Your phone pings and three consecutive messages wake your screen:

[text from: work husband]

work husband: I miss you. my lunch sucks today :P

work husband: I’m eating in my classroom today bc I’m avoiding Carl

work husband: fucking Carl

Jeonghan’s eyebrow arches while you try your best to avoid replying to Vernon. Not the type to get jealous my ass, Jeonghan thinks while reluctantly putting his wallet away. Telling you to do your hair differently was his idea. So, if his plan worked, Vernon probably sent you messages because he thinks you’re on a date with somebody.

“How about you ask out Vernon yourself?” Jeonghan takes his provided fork to prod at his forgotten slice of cake in the middle of the table. He knocks off the strawberry at the top of the cake and plunges his metal fork into the tip of the cake. The fluffy spongey matcha cake that sandwiches diced strawberries and fresh crème fraiche? A perfect mouthful.

His question doesn't mean anything in particular. Jeonghan usually asks you whatever he thinks, but you’re glad you aren't drinking anything this time. If you did, your latte was absolutely going to end up anywhere but in your mouth. So while Jeonghan enjoys his dessert, you’re faced with another problem:

“How? I don’t even know if he flirts with me because it’s a part of his work husband act or if it’s because he actually likes me.”

“You bring him lunches every day and he pays for your groceries. I’ve tasted your cooking before,” he says in between bites. “There’s no way that man isn’t in love with you.” He places his fork down and reaches over, taking a sip of his Iced Americano to cancel a bit of the cake’s sweetness. He nods in delight. Going to this café for afternoon tea was honestly such a good idea.

“You know I only bring lunches for him because I always end up cooking extra,” you grumble while thinking about whether or not you should answer his texts.

Your phone pings again. Jeonghan props his elbow on the table and lazily rests his cheek against his knuckle. He notices you itching to pick up your phone and sighs to himself. He’s now halfway through his cake while your apple pie sits in front of you, idle and long forgotten. He thinks that maybe if he feeds you some of his cake you would forgive him for eating your slice.

“I’m literally your best friend. Shouldn’t I be the one you’re cooking for?” he huffs.

Your phone is in your hand. You’ve managed to go a few minutes without replying back to Vernon. Jeonghan is secretly proud of you.

He waves his fork in front of your lip to offer you a bite of the cake. When you notice, you open your mouth to accept his offer.

Fuck yes, he thinks after he sees you close your mouth and chew. He immediately reaches over to swap his half-eaten plate for yours.

[text from: work husband]

work husband: oh I signed us up for crowd control for this Friday’s spirit rally because I know you don’t want to participate in the spirit rally games.

work bb: oh thank god. I completely forgot signups were today.

work bb: if I knew I was going to have to attend spirit rallies again I would’ve never become a high school teacher

work husband: but you wouldn’t have met me :c

Jeonghan leaves his seat to walk to your side while you quickly reply back to Vernon. He tries to look over your shoulder while you shrug him off, turning your body toward the window. Jeonghan is positive that there is no way Vernon isn’t in love with you.

“Anyway,” Jeonghan gives up and returns back to his seat. “I already told my date you agreed to the double date. See you this Saturday.”

“What?” you look up at your best friend and he shrugs while picking up the half-eaten slices of cake and pie.

“Our lunch break is almost over. I’m going to go get these wrapped so you can take them with you to work. Can you throw away our trash? I’ll come back for the drinks.”

[text from: work husband]

work husband: I think some students are filming tiktoks outside my room. I’m going to go scare them.

You tell Jeonghan to order you another cake while he’s getting yours boxed at the counter.

chapter two: gymnasium; spirit rally

It honestly did not make sense at all that Friday’s Spirit Week theme would be called “Tie-Dye Friday,” when Tuesday or Thursday are arguably days that better suit the theme. Nevertheless, you’re standing with Vernon at the side of the school gymnasium wearing the sweatshirt he lent you during the few minutes before your second period class started. Your little interaction certainly caught the attention of some students, and it has been the subject of a majority of their conversations. Because when you have two young and hot teachers at your school who seem to be really close friends, word spreads, and ships sail.

The two of you were hired at the same time two years ago, both fresh out of college with a teaching certificate in hand. It is a pretty distinguished school district, a district that receives awards every year for its rigorous pedagogy. In all honesty, you and Vernon landed your jobs by an extreme stroke of luck. This school district? Hiring not one but two new teachers with little to no teaching experience? There were a few positions open because some teachers were retiring. The teacher who was hired before you had to leave the job for personal reasons, and the teacher hired after that one never showed up for training. It kept going on. You were their last option. Putting pride aside, you were just happy someone decided to hire you. But maybe it was the same stroke of luck that brought the two of you together.

You met Vernon during the summer orientation and quickly became friends, realizing that the two of you had to stick together to try to make it through your first year of teaching. Your classrooms are close together, and he would stop by for a quick chat during breaks, coming over to tease you or disrupt your class. You don’t know what he is doing half the time, but he’s a good teacher. His class is relatively easy as long as you do the studying, and the tests are hard enough that you can’t bullshit your way through and expect an A – they’re in essay question formats after all. Despite his easygoing personality and calm demeanor, rumor says that he’s the strictest person when it comes to testing season. (Mafia boss the students call it.)

But here you are, standing next to your crush wearing one of his most cherished sweatshirts while a bunch of high schoolers sit on the bleachers and on the wooden floors. A student walks up to the two of you and asks if they could use the restroom. Vernon nods, and the student leaves. Vernon tells you that when a student directly asks you if they could leave the assembly, he would answer for you. He knows you’re the shyer one between the two of you.

When you have a crush, a big and stinky larger than the sunflowers growing in the garden in front of your classroom type of crush, you cherish any moment spent with them because you never know when the next moment will come.

“Don’t you have to go get your driver’s license changed?” Jeonghan asked you one night while the two of you were eating dinner at your apartment.

You scrunched your eyebrows together deep in thought, “I don’t think it’s expiring soon.”

“Your address doesn’t match the one on your license though,” Jeonghan pointed at your wallet on counter above the sink.

You got up from the couch and walked over to grab your wallet. You were pretty sure you had at least two years until your license expired, but it didn’t hurt to check. You opened your wallet and looked through the transparent slot in which you put your wallet.

“But my address is correct,” you walked back to the living room and pulled out your license for your best friend to see.

The crowd cheers as students are called from each year to participate in the next activity. It’s cacophonous, but you don’t mind. You join their rambunctiousness – laughing and cheering with those around you.

Vernon leans in and gently nudges your left arm, “You look nice.” He compliments loudly enough so only you can hear.

You grin and raise your left arm in front of you to admire the mix of blue, white, and grey. The fabric smells fresh and feels soft against your skin. It was probably treated with the fabric softener he bought the last time the two of you ran errands together. “I’ll return this to you after I wash it,” you promise him.

“Keep it,” his hands automatically reach to adjust the hood on your sweater so it lays nice and even against your back. “It looks good on you,” he murmurs when he stands in front of you while adjusting and pulling the strings in front of your neck so they’re even.

More cheers erupt from the crowd in front of you, but you are too busy trying to keep yourself from blushing to even care about what is happening in front of you. A few students could’ve exited the building without asking, and you still wouldn’t care.

“No, it’s definitely wrong,” he took the license from your hand and tapped his finger on the printed country.

You leaned in to look at the error on your card.

“It should say Simp Nation right here,” he snickers.

You snatched your license from his hand, “I’m kicking you out of my apartment.”

Over the course of the next few minutes, they make the teachers participate in an obstacle course, show a video about Spring Break safety, and have the school band perform. Vernon somehow procured two seats so the two of you could sit instead of stand the whole time. In the middle of talking to your co-worker about grading midterms, you hear the entire student body shouting for the both of you.

You look up to see some participants making their way to the center of the gymnasium for some game they were nominated to participate in. The two of you shake your heads and politely deny their request. They groan in response, but it can’t be helped. Everybody knew that the two of you rarely participated in assemblies, especially when it came to doing anything remotely physical. Although the two of you are the high school’s youngest staff members, the two of you are also some of the most unmotivated and uncompetitive people to ever exist. Everybody already knew that the two of you were going to reject their request, but it never hurt to try. The most the two of you have done during a spirit rally was walk across the gymnasium while holding a banner the students made. There was also that other time the two of you volunteered to participate in the spicy noodle challenge because the two of you were starving, but that was honestly about it.

When the assembly ends the two of you direct the students out of the gymnasium and stay behind to pick up forgotten belongings to bring to the lost and found.

“Let me take those for you,” he takes the sweaters out of your arms for you. “Do you have any lunch plans today?”

“Yeah I do,” you reply. You look at his face to see if he is at all disappointed. His expression remains blank and he purses his lips.

“It’s your loss,” he makes his way to the gym doors while you walk over to stack the chairs the two of you sat in. “My Rubiks Cube club is having a crazy pizza party,” he calls on his way out.

If you count a bunch of students lounging around a history classroom with a bunch of Star Wars and other pop culture memorabilia trying to solve their different types of collectible cubes a party, then this one is a banger. A rager even.

Mr. Chwe sits at his desk, right leg anxiously bouncing up and down while he holds his second slice of pizza in his hand. He thought that he managed to play it cool when you told him you had plans, but in reality, the thought of you having lunch plans for the second time this week is making him mentally scream on top of his imaginary mountain into the empty abyss below.

In the background, Dokyeom screams when he solves another side of his Megaminx and proudly holds it up for his club members to see.

[text from: nonie]

nonie: seungkwannn

nonie: help me

kwan: see, you wouldn’t be freaking out if you just asked yn on a date

kwan: you’re constantly flirting with them. I don’t see how you never accidentally asked them out

nonie: I have a bunch of times but they never take me seriously

nonie: yn told me they have plans for lunch

nonie: do you think they’re on a date again?

kwan: oh speaking of dates I have a double date this Saturday

nonie: wait keep talking about that so I stop thinking about yn

kwan: when do you not think about yn?

nonie: never

nonie: they’re actually wearing my sweatshirt today. can you believe it?

kwan: my best friend is a SIMP!

kwan: a shy one who won’t properly confess his feelings! but still!! a simp!!!

kwan: one of my friends from work needed someone to tag along because they’re meeting someone they met on Tinder. I only agreed because they said they would cover one of my overtime shifts for me

nonie: oh that’s scary. the tinder part. not the overtime part.

kwan: right?

nonie: but the idea of yn going on a date that’s not with me is scarier.

kwan: no wonder you’re a history teacher

nonie: because the humanities is for hot people?

kwan: because you’re a loser

kwan: like I bet you’re actually enjoying the pizza party with your lame rubiks club rn

nonie: oh my god I’m a loser

kwan: a hot one tho!

kwan: wait yn’s classroom is literally under yours. can’t you just go downstairs and check if they’re there?

kwan: did you not do that before you started overthinking?

kwan: Vernon?

You adjust your sunhat to shield your face from the brazen afternoon sun. You’re in your gardening overalls, Vernon’s sweatshirt folded neatly and tucked away in your classroom for the time being. It’s finally Spring and you’re tending to the nursery pots in the small garden located outside of your classroom. Around you, your agriculture club works and chats amongst themselves.

Intrusive thoughts are distracting you from what would usually be a lovely day in your garden. Maybe you should’ve told Vernon that you were going to be in the garden with your club today. Vernon probably isn’t overthinking it like how you are, right? But still, was saying you had plans a little too much? Does it sound like you had something important to tend to?

You sigh and stand to stretch your knees. Behind you, your little garden is beautiful, lush, and thriving. The flowers are in bloom and provide shade for the vegetables in the dirt. Everything seems to be thriving and buzzing with life. It makes you happy to see how far the little seedlings have grown.

A student arrives with refreshments that they picked up for everybody. You tell your club to take a break under the shade. It would be a shame if one of them has heatstroke. You take off your gloves and shove them in your side pockets. Your phone pings in the front pocket of your overalls while you make your way into your cool classroom.

[text from: work husband]

work husband: hi love. you took the bus to work today, right?

work husband: let’s pick up some groceries after work and I’ll drop you off at your place

work bb: even when I smell like dirt?

work husband: you’re an envisci teacher. I’d be concerned if you didn’t smell like dirt

work bb: you don’t have anything to do tonight right?

work husband: did you just assume I have no plans on a Friday night

work bb: omg sorry it’s because we always hang after work on Fridays

work husband: no you’re actually right. I have no plans.

work bb: then I’ll cook dinner for us

work husband: I know I’m already work-married to you, but I’m going to marry you one day

work husband: lol

work bb: haha silly

“Teacher Yn,” a couple students approach you while you set your phone face down on your desk.

“Hmm?” you up at them while taking off your sunhat.

“Can we send you a list of ideas we came up for our club education trip? We know we have to fulfill the requirement before the end of the semester, but we wanted to get it out of the way.”

You nod at them, “Sounds fine by me.” You pull up a website on your desktop and show it to your students, “Did you guys include the city garden? It’s pretty close by and it’s pretty this time of year.”

“Did you choose that place so Mr. Chwe can tag along? I heard he likes running there.”

You look at your students in disbelief. How did they even find out things like that?

Just then, someone knocks loudly on your open door. All eyes turn to see Vernon standing at the opening with his gaggle of students behind him, Rubiks Cubes, pizza boxes, and packs of sodas in their hands.

“I brought nerds and pizza.”

One of your students leans in and whispers to you, “Looks like your boyfriend is here.”

You don’t know if you should be happy or if you should consider this to be one of the most horribly timed entrances of all time. You decide you’re going to be happy – it’s Vernon after all.

chapter three: grocery store; dinner

People are definitely staring at the two of you while you grocery shop together. It’s not because the two of you are wearing your tie-dye outfits from earlier today, but because of the fact that Vernon is handsome. At least that’s what you believe. It’s enough to make the other shoppers stare for at least a brief second before they return to their usual routes.

You think your shoes covered in dirt are a direct juxtaposition to his pristine white sneakers. There’s a part of you that will always be insecure whenever you’re in public with your crush, but your hand in his reassures you otherwise.

“Do you think people don’t approach you at grocery stores because I’m next to you?” you ask him while the two of you are hunched over the leafy green section. A handwritten sign states the organic kale is finally on sale.

“Why would you think that?” Vernon curiously asks you. His tone is a bit upset, but he still peruses through a few bundles of kale before choosing the one he like most. He drops it in the plastic bag you opened for him.

“I don’t know,” you shrug while placing the bagged kale into the shopping cart. “You’re handsome and people stare, but nobody is making a move.”

“I don’t care about other people,” he muses. He reaches for the baby carrots on the top shelf and passes the bag to you. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

You push the shopping cart to the fruit section and he follows closely behind you, happy his comment made your ears turn red. He knows you’re embarrassed and is purposely moving onto the fruit section when the two of you still have a few more greens to buy.

But it’s true, he only has eyes on you. Only you don’t seem to realize that he does. He constantly tells you his feelings, but you never seem to take him seriously. He clings onto you and holds your hand in public because he also sees people looking at you. Was it wrong of him to be jealous? Was it wrong to want to hold your hand at all times? Maybe it’s his fault you never do, yet he can only wish for you to take him seriously.

“Hey babe,” Vernon calls to you from the mountain of potatoes in front of him. He sees your figure shoot up like a meerkat standing among pyramids of fruit, looking side-to-side to try to locate the familiar voice. “Right here,” he calls to you again, this time holding a bag of potatoes above his head. He laughs when he sees you cover your face in mortification while you cart your way over to him. You’re cute, he thinks. His little meerkat.

The two of you pose while he takes a picture of the two of you in the black and white monitoring screen above the self-checkout machine. He scans his loyalty card and begins to scan the items in the cart.

“Hey Vern,” you pass him a box of pasta for him to scan.

“Yes, baby?” he winks while taking the box from you.

“Why do you call yourself my work husband even when we’re off work?” you ask him while passing him a bag of bagels.

“You’re right. If we’re off work then that just means I’m your husband,” he takes the bag from your hand and scans it. “Because the adjective describes the fact that we’re at work, but we’re not at work. So just call me husband.”

“Smartass,” you grumble to yourself. He’s constantly embarrassing you, but you somehow like it.

“What is that?” he pokes at the touchscreen. He clearly heard you grumble to yourself.

Checkout. Beep. No Bags. Beep. Credit/Debit. Beep.

“Are you filing for a divorce just because we’re not at work?” he purposely makes his voice louder than usual and brings his phone to the screen to pay for the groceries. “Do I mean nothing to you?” his tone clearly implies he’s poking fun at you, but it’s enough to let the workers around you two eavesdrop.

“Vernon, oh my god,” you quickly shuffle to his left to put the items in the reusable tote bags in the cart behind the two of you. “People are staring.” You pull your hood over your head and he gently pulls it back down, quickly running his fingers through your hair to minimize the mess.

The workers point and giggle at you two before going back to work, telling those in line to move to an open self-checkout machine.

“Just like how I stare at you at work?” he takes the receipt and consecutive coupons from the mouth of the machine and folds it before putting it in his back pocket. He moves the shopping cart behind the two of you and separates the cold items from the fresh and boxed items.

“Babe, I’m going to file for divorce,” you grab the bag of baby carrots and wave it in front of his face. “And I’m taking the children with me.”

“Aww you called me babe.”

You wish you could be as open as Vernon when it comes to flirting, but at the same time, the jokes and the act that the two of you put on around each other often times sound and feel a little too real. Your feelings for him are real, but you struggle to understand whether or not he’s joking with you. You know you could just ask him, but there’s a ninety percent chance he would joke with you and a ten percent chance he would tell you the truth. However, because of how the two of you normalized flirting with each other, you know you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between his truth and his jokes. You’re afraid of telling him the truth, but you’re also afraid of letting go of this false reality the two of you created.

Where is the thin line between flirting romantically and flirting jokingly? How do you find it? How do you cross to the romantic side?

The two of you are currently in you apartment. His shoes are placed in the usually open spot next to yours on the shoe rack, and his car keys are in the ceramic tray next to yours. You are prepping the ingredients for dinner while he sorts the groceries he bought into their rightful places in your tiny kitchen.

“You know my student, Chan, right? The one who I swear is out to get me?” your co-worker asks you nonchalantly while reaching above your head to open your white kitchen cabinet. “Right when I was about to play a video for the class, Chan raises his hand and has the audacity to ask me if I’m ever going to teach them.”

“How did you respond?” you lean over the kitchen counter to shut the microwave door and start the timer. You’re used to his daily post-class lunchtime rants, but he somehow forgot to tell you until he saw the picture of the two at orientation stuck on your refrigerator with a magnetic turtle.

Vernon sighs while looking through the cabinet contents, “I called him lame and told him to watch the damn Crash Course video.”

He gently places his palm on top of your head to shield your head from getting hit when he swings the cabinet door close, a colander in his other hand. He places the colander in the sink behind the two of you and turns back to you. He is interested in what is in the microwave and mimics your position, bending over to stare through the translucent screen. It’s hard to make out what is spinning slowly through the glass so he leans in, accidentally brushing his shoulder against yours for a brief moment. It is brief, but it is enough to make you question what you have done in your past life to deserve this moment.

“Wait,” you turn your head to look at your co-worker beside you, curiously asking, “students actually get annoyed when we show videos in class?”

“I don’t know,” he stands upright and scratches his head, his expression clearly showing that he was dumbfounded that a student would be against watching videos. He leans against the back counter and crosses his arms. He frowns. “I mean, am I ever going to tell them that watching videos stimulates different modes of cognitive learning? Of course not,” he answers his own question. “I’m the cool teacher.”

Spoken like a mantra.

“I’m just defrosting the garlic bread so I can pop it into the oven so you can snack while I cook.” You notice he is looking around your kitchen. You think it’s because he doesn’t have space to exit with the tote bags on the floor and the lack of mobile space in your kitchen. “Did you want to exit? Let me move out of the way so you can go chill or grade in the living room.”

It’s exactly the opposite of what you think.

Vernon loves your place despite how much you hate its small size. To him, your tiny apartment feels like home. You’ve told him several times how much you want to move out. You hate how you don’t have a desk to do your work on. You hate how your bed is literally pushed in the corner of your bedroom against the wall and window. You even hate how there’s no closet in your bedroom so you have to use the hallway closet as your closet.

He wishes you know just how much he loves it when he can hear the soft hum of the in-unit washer and dryer in the background while he lounges on your plush sofa. Because of the size of your apartment, the smell of your baking sometimes lingers for hours. Because of the lack of space, you’re forced to display many of your things for your guests to see instead of tucking them away in some storage bin or cabinet. There are postcards your friends sent from around the world, pictures on the fridge, awards hung on walls, and small trinkets placed all around your apartment. The sticky notes the two of you exchanged during orientation are pinned to your corkboard. Not to mention, the sectional sofa with the chaise you bought with your first paycheck proudly lines your living room. It’s one of the most comfortable things he’s fallen asleep on. Although the apartment may seem suffocating at times, this apartment is you personified.

Of course, it wasn’t like he never offered you to move into his place multiple times in the past. You slapped his arm in response every time he suggested.

Earlier, the two of you decided to power through grading midterm papers for your respective classes so the two of you could freely enjoy Spring Break without any worries. It is now nearing midnight when you blindly reach into the popcorn bowl on the side table beside you only to feel nothing. You are out of movie snacks. Your legs are stretched out on your chaise and Vernon’s head is still in your lap, pointed toward the second movie the two of you are watching that night. You decide to not get up to make more popcorn just in case he is sleeping.

Next to the empty popcorn bowl, your cellphone pings and Vernon stirs.

Damn you, cellphone.

There is another notification sound, and Vernon pushes himself off your lap to sit up. You look over at your phone. It’s fucking Yoon Jeonghan.

[text from: devil’s incarnate]

devil’s incarnate: don’t fowget about ouw double date t-tomowwow (//▽//)

devil’s incarnate: the reservation is at noon at the bistro opposite of the café we went for lunch

headache personified: WHY MUST YOU RUIN EVERYTHING FOR ME

Vernon somehow manages to quietly squeeze himself behind you while you lift yourself to text Jeonghan. When you put your phone down he tugs your body closer to his, his legs stretched out and sandwiching yours. He points to the blanket at the foot of the chaise and he lets go of his arms around you so you can lean forward to grab the blanket.

You open the blanket so it covers both of you and his arms sneak around your stomach, pulling you into his chest. He puts his chin on your shoulder to see the screen in front of you. He emanates warmth like a human-sized hand warmer, like the warm summer sun on your skin the first day you met him.

About halfway into the movie your body naturally turned to lay against his. You’re not watching the movie anymore because he knows you’re tired. It’s not the first time the two of you have cuddled this closely before, but he only hopes you mistake his uncontrollable fast heartbeat as his reaction to the movie.

You’re fiddling with the strings on his clean hoodie and he takes your hand in his and puts it on his chest.

“The plot is really good,” he hopes you can feel his chest vibrate.

You do. You’re on cloud nine.

“You can stay over if you’re not comfortable driving back at this hour,” you suggest to him. Your hand goes back to playing with the aglet on his hoodie string.

“Mmm,” the thought of leaving makes him groan. “I’ll stay until the movie ends.”

In the closet toward the entrance, your dryer hums. The air smells like rose petals and warm vanilla. In his heart he knows the two of you are way past the simple “work spouse” phase. He hugs you tighter and wishes the movie never ends.

[text from: devil’s incarnate]

devil’s incarnate: btw I’m picking you up so you have no way of escaping (o¬‿¬o )

devil’s incarnate: see you soon baby <33 -xoxo

chapter four: bistro; double date

The loud knocking on your front door causes you to jolt awake and fling the blanket covering you onto the living room floor. You can recognize that impatient knock anywhere. However, what you’re afraid of is not the knocking sound, but the person currently knocking.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you repeat while you sit up and look around the living room. You realize it’s Saturday morning. The television is turned off, and you can still see the stacked pile of midterms pushed to the side of your coffee table. Is Vernon still in your apartment?

Your phone is ringing on the side table next to you. You look over your pillow from your bedroom. I don’t remember bringing one from my bedroom. You see the Caller ID. It’s Jeonghan trying to reach you from outside your door.

Then you see it, a light blue sticky note stuck in the empty popcorn bowl next to your phone. It’s his handwriting, tiny and scrawled. He says he took your laundry out of the dryer and took out the trash on his way out. He’s sorry he couldn’t lock the door. There’s a tiny heart next to his initials. He doesn’t tell you when he left.

The note is in your hand when Jeonghan barges into your apartment and shuts the door behind him. He stands in the doorway and stares at you, his hands on his waist. He’s annoyed.

Your apartment is silent. Even leaky faucet decides to rest for a while. You swear you can hear your best friend’s heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you squeak while you stand up to face him, hiding the note behind your back.

“I. Sent. You. So. Many. Texts,” he roughly kicks off his shoes and storms into your living room.

You scream when you realize he is making his way over to you. When he reaches your sofa, the two of you circle around your coffee table.

“I’ve been outside your door knocking like a man trying to win back his ex. Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?” He wants to strangle you at this point, but he can’t because he needs you to go on the double date with him. “And I couldn’t even park in your second parking spot because guess who I saw get into his car in your second parking spot in the morning?”

Does that mean Vernon slept over last night? And Jeonghan now knows about it?

He lunges. You scream again.

Seungkwan sits on Vernon’s barstool and faces the door, ready to read his friend to filth the moment he walks into the door. His legs are crossed and he’s counting the number of cardboard boxes stacked near Vernon’s front door. It’s Saturday morning and Vernon isn’t in his own apartment. He’s a loser who can’t even properly confess his feelings to his crush – where the hell was he last night?

Seungkwan has a double-date to attend in about an hour. For him, lecturing Vernon would take at least 15 minutes and asking for opinions for his outfits would take around 5 minutes. Driving would take at least 10 minutes if it was all green lights. However, if there is a stop light or two-

Vernon calmly unlocks his door and opens the door to see his friend sitting at his counter. It’s totally normal to have Seungkwan invite himself into his apartment – he gave him a spare key for a reason. However, when Vernon is halfway through the doorframe, he realizes he’s wearing his extra set of clothes he sometimes leaves at your place. He is also holding his work bag from yesterday. Seungkwan seems to have already noticed as his legs uncross and his eyes widen at the sight of his friend. Vernon slowly backs out and closes his front door ready to leave and never come back. Start a new life maybe.

“Get your ass back here,” he hears Seungkwan’s menacingly sweet voice from the other side of the door.

He audibly sighs. He has no choice but to open the door.

You’re folding your laundry in the backseat of Jeonghan’s car while he drives the two of you to the double date. You can tell he’s still angry – his sleeves are rolled up. He already undid his collar to let off some steam and pent up anger when you told him you didn’t want to go on the date. You can see the gorilla grip he has on his steering wheel. His arm veins protrude prominently, and you swear you can see them throb. Jeonghan glares at you through his rearview mirror every chance he can get, so you sulk in his backseat and quietly fold your clothes. You probably also lost your aux privileges. For the next week or month maybe.

He purposely makes a hard break at a stop sign when nobody is around, and some of your folded clothes launch themselves to his car floor. You look at your t-shirt crumple to the floor and bite your lower lip. You nod to yourself. You deserve this. You were on a winning streak last night so karma (Jeonghan) has to show up to make sure everything is set at equilibrium. There must be balance to this world.

“Did you shower last night?” Jeonghan softly asks you when he notices you’re a lot quieter than usual. He turns on his right blinker, ready to make a right.

“Of course I did,” you pouted when you realized your favorite pair of socks rolled under the front seat. “I smelled like dirt.”

“So you showered while a man was over?” he snickers. There’s a glimmer in his eye. “Naughty.”

“He was grading in my living room,” you protest while looking out the window. Your clothes are folded and placed back in the laundry basket.

You can tell Jeonghan’s anger is subsiding. He rolls his shoulder backwards and stretches his neck left and right. The gorilla grip is gone. You know he cares for you. That you are certain of.

The two of you are still relatively early when Jeonghan parks. He rolls down his windows and turns of the engine and then his car. He drops his car keys in his cupholder and turns back to look at you. He smiles.

“Spill.”

Seungkwan is holding onto the car handle above his seat for dear life.

“So I woke up with Yn in my arms, but their phone was going off like crazy because someone was spam texting them. I reach over to switch their phone to silent because I’m a good husband who cares about Yn getting a good sleep, but I see the same person texting them and calling them. Bro this person was using all the pet names that I use. So, already, in my mind I was like ‘oh my god am I a home wrecker?’ And then I looked at their phone again even though I shouldn’t have been looking through their notifications, but it was just right there and I saw that he said he was going to come over soon because they have a date. So I tidied up a bit and packed my bags and zoomed out of there. Because what if they’re really dating? What if he’s the same guy you saw at the café? Dude my mind was racing so much. But Yn looked so peaceful and serene. I was going to melt then and there and then reality hit me: I may have just been a homewrecker. But it all doesn’t make sense because their lock screen photo is the photo I took of us at the grocery story yesterday. Wouldn’t it make more sense if your lock screen photo was your boyfriend instead? So I was freaking out and I’m still freaking out. My non-existent love life is in shambles bro.”

“Is this car ride over?” Seungkwan’s eyes are closed and his knuckles are turning white. “Am I alive? Is the car in one piece?”

Vernon unbuckles his seatbelt and then Seungkwan’s, “Yeah dude. I parked a few minutes ago. Were you listening to me rant at all?”

“I’m going to step out and take a breather,” Seungkwan nods to himself. It was his fault for making Vernon drive. He knows how fast Vernon can drive, but he didn’t take into consideration that he would be sitting in the passenger seat. Was it worth it in the end to arrive early to a date he wasn’t even going to enjoy?

He opens the car door and stretches his legs. “Do you see that café across the street?” he points at the café he visited earlier this week. “Please stay in there and clear your head. Drink some tea. Coffee will make you even more jittery.”

Seungkwan exits the car and shuts the door. Before he starts walking towards the front entrance, he turns around and points at Vernon who looks like he is on the brink of a mental breakdown, “But stay in there in case I need an escape plan.”

Vernon recognizes this café as the same café printed on the tiny cake roll box you left on his desk earlier this week. The sticky note you attached to the underside of the box is tucked away in his wallet as are some of the other ones you wrote for him in the past. He keeps them all and occasionally switches them depending on his mood.

Did you miss me? the note reads. I’m sorry you had to eat lunch alone. This roll reminded me of you because it’s round like your hair when it’s flat. HA! Did you think I was going to write “sweet?” -yn ;-)

He’s been staring at the chalkboard menu for the past few minutes, his eyes squinted and his head deep in thought. The baristas think he’s having a hard time looking at the menu up above and offer him a physical menu in larger print. It takes a few tries to get his attention, but he bashfully takes the menu from them and moves to the side so the incoming customers can order their drinks and other menu items.

He regrets not asking you out sooner. He’s sulking and mentally beating himself up in a café in which his crush had a date a few days ago. How lame is that? While you’re out enjoying your date and probably having the time of your life, he’s regretting all of the chances he didn’t take in the past. But the angel on his shoulder reassures him – he was still by your side despite not taking the chances in the past. It comforts him a bit. Maybe is all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe you don’t have a boyfriend. Vernon promises himself while walking up to the counter to order his drink: if the universe sends him a sign anytime soon, he is going to take it. No questions asked.

[text from: kwan]

kwan: sos

nonie: do you think I should go for a fruit tea today?

kwan: I s2g if you don’t get your ass over here

nonie: how bad can your date be?

nonie: did the food come out already?

kwan: my coworker is meeting yn’s bf

kwan: MY COWORKER IS MEETING YN’S BF FOR OUR DOUBLE DATE

kwan: YN’S BOYFRIEND IS A CHEATER

nonie: YOU FR?

nonie: WHO TF WOULD HAVE THE AUDACITY TO DO THAT TO YN?

kwan: YOU’RE A TEACHER. COME TEACH HIM A LESSON.

nonie: I’M COMING

kwan: not the face tho. it’s a money maker

nonie: WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?

Vernon practically sprints out of the café. Thank you universe!

[text from: devil’s incarnate]

devil’s incarnate: did u grab my wallet?

devil’s incarnate: save me. my date came and I was totally catfished (╬`益´)

devil’s incarnate: and your date is sending me death glares for some reason O.o

headache personified: when we go home we’re signing you up for bumble

headache personified: I’m almost at the front entrance. you want me to act like you’re my bf?

devil’s incarnate: oh we haven’t used that tactic in a long time

headache personified: wait is that you three under the umbrella at the porch?

headache personified: is my date vernon’s seungkwan?

devil’s incarnate: bro how should I know how vernon’s seungkwan looks like

devil’s incarnate: ahh fuck it I’ll just be mean and call my date out for catfishing me.

devil’s incarnate: can you record for me <3 -xoxo

You’re already outside the front entrance when you think about ways to try to avoid Seungkwan while you're inside the bistro. You think if you walk along the bistro’s perimeter instead of heading inside the bistro, you can get a better video angle of Jeonghan without having to show your face to Seungkwan. However, someone gently grabs onto your arm and tugs on it.

You turn around and you're surprised to see Vernon looking back at you. He looks frazzled and out of breath. You wonder if he really goes jogging in the city garden like what your students said.

“Hear me out. I have to tell you something,” he pleads.

Your heart is screaming Omg it’s Vernon! Vernon! but you’re worried Jeonghan might get mad at you if you don’t record him while he’s lecturing the catfish. You can probably email the bistro for a video recording tomorrow. If Jeonghan draws enough attention, you can probably have one of the bistro patrons text you a recording of the interaction.

“I had so many chances to tell you how I really feel, but I keep beating myself up for not telling you my feelings. I really like you. I really do,” he takes both of your hands in his hand. “And I don’t want you to go in and end up with someone who is on a date with another person.”

Fuck Jeonghan’s video. Vernon is actually confessing to you. Yet at the same time, something about his confession doesn’t really make sense. How did he find out about your double date?

“What do you mean you catfished me because you thought I was a catfish? Have you seen me?” you can hear Jeonghan’s shrill voice screeching from where you’re standing. You imagine he’s standing up and gesturing at his own face. “Why would I need to catfish as someone else?” You swear you can also hear Seungkwan laughing.

Vernon also seems to recognize Seungkwan’s laughter. His mouth hangs slightly agape and he looks at you and back at the patio in horror.

In that moment, everything made sense. Seungkwan probably texted Vernon that Jeonghan showed up to the date while believing you were dating Jeonghan. It’s honestly not the first time the confusion happened. You smile and pull him in a hug.

“The person I like thinks my best friend is cheating on me when in reality I was forced to go on a double date. So if anything, you just stopped me from going on a date with Seungkwan before I even went on a date with you,” you laugh into his chest. “Did you really run to try stop me from seeing my best friend cheat on me?”

He hugs you back and you can hear his heart beat slow down. He’s relieved.

“Baby,” he hums into your hair.

“Hmm?” you look up at him.

“Do you still want to call me your work husband at work even if I become your boyfriend?”

You groan in embarrassment while he laughs at you. He separates from you and starts walking backwards with his hand stretched out.

“Let’s go on a date. I heard the café across the street has really good cake rolls.”

He’s waiting for you to come hold his hand.

You can still hear Jeonghan yelling in the background. You think Seungkwan is also yelling with him. Considering the fact that they haven’t been kicked out already, the two of you know they’ll be fine without the two of you.

“The ones that look like your hair when it’s flat?” you catch up to him and interlock your hand with his.

“Exactly.”

taglist: @jiminismybabymochi, @anissanightyoung, @bat-shark-repellant, @woozarts, @jaycheoluwu, @deadlyarepa, @hoothootreiber, @sleeplessdawn, @ryujined, @staysstrays, @carat-cakes, @whyisquill, @kitacore, @grannysdirtbag, @heeseung-lover686

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