Latest Posts by nightmareluinor - Page 2

i see a boy who looks like the biggest loser on this planet and i immediately fall in love

i don’t smoke (except for when i’m missing you) — taesan

taesan x reader

wc — 2k genre & warnings — angst, situationship, smoking, alcohol consumption, unedited playlist/inspired by — supercut by lorde // i don’t smoke by mitski // focus by niki notes — remember folks! communication is always the key. (that way you can manage your expectations.) if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback! request to be part of the taglist! masterlist

synopsis — a drunken phone call leads you and taesan to unpack what was kept under wraps, and you both don’t know where to stand on your relationship.

there’s a thumping in your ear—maybe it’s from the bass that sounds through the walls or the jumping crowd that shakes the floor. the flashing lights have turned into hazy streaks of red and the smell of sweat seems to stick. yet, despite how uncomfortable the club has gone at this hour, you stay in place, swishing the contents in your cup before downing it.

you let out a quiet exhale, senses numbing and faltering the more you drink. but the thumping remains, and you don’t know where it’s coming from.

“y/n!” your eyes snap towards julie whose eyebrows are scrunched in worry. “are you okay?”

you straighten your back against the wall. “me? yeah.” you lift the cup to her view, giving it a small shake to show it’s empty. “i just finished my drink, so i was letting the alcohol sit.”

julie chuckles before grabbing it from you. “okay, that’s enough drinking. you,” her finger jabs at your chest, “need some water.” despite the groan that leaves you, she latches onto your arm before dragging you away. 

as you make your way back to the booth, the music seems to drown from the volume of your friends. taerae’s laugh overlaps the melody and gunwook’s complaints take over the vocal chops. “oh, there you are!” jaehyun calls out the moment he spots you. “i thought you went to the washroom.” you plop down beside him. “maybe even went for a smoke break.”

“hey, i don’t smoke anymore,” you defend yourself. 

“anymore, you just said.”

you roll your eyes before mumbling. “i don’t even think i’m a smoker.”

before jaehyun can argue, julie leans over towards you two. “i’m going to get you water.” as she’s met jaehyun’s intoxicated grin, she sighs before standing up straight. “maybe i should be getting you some, too.” once julie takes her leave, you both erupt into drunken giggles.

the rest of your friends continue to enjoy the night; some continue to down more shots while others share the latest gossip. you and jaehyun don’t exchange a word, shoulders pressed to each other as you stare off into nowhere. and while you attempt to enjoy the shared silence, the thumping in your ear remains.

“what’s on your mind?”

“nothing.” you look over at jaehyun. “just alcohol.”

he frowns. “you just… i feel like your mind has been going off somewhere this whole night.”

“literally, i’m just spacing out.” you rip your gaze from him before you sink into the seat. “nothing to get too worried about.”

a beat passes.

“are you sure?”

with jaehyun’s persistence, you get off your seat. “i’m going to find julie.” despite his protests, you make your way through the crowd until you find yourself by the bar. you call on the bartender and ask him for another glass of whatever he gave you then. at his nod, you lean on the table as you wait for him to mix up another concoction that would keep your mind busy.

beside you are seats filled with flirting couples, whispering sweet-nothings and getting handsy in public. it seems that more people behind you are having the time of their lives chatting and grooving on the dance floor. yet, here you stand, hoping that the next glass would allow you to give you the enjoyment you’ve been craving this whole night.

you thank the bartender the moment your order is served. before you can drink, someone shoves against you, causing it to spill. “hey, watch where you’re going!” as soon as you catch sight of the person, your stern expression suddenly shifts into shock—because he looks like him.

“sorry about that!” the stranger is quick to apologize, a regretful smile resting on his lips—and it reminds you of his smile, the same one he would shoot at you at every party, every late night out, every time he managed to upset you. the person throws a quick glare at his friend before saying, “i hope i didn’t spill your drink.”

at your silence, the stranger takes it as his sign to continue partying, but you remain frozen, staring at him. the similarities are uncanny; the same cat-like features with the exact fashion style that he has. and suddenly, it’s a supercut in your mind—of every stolen glance, of every hand held, of every lean in as he tries to listen to your whispers, of every short distance and shared silence spent staring into each other’s eyes.

yet, those moments seemed like nothing to taesan.

once you down your drink, you move past the crowd until you finally exit the club. even outside, the thumping in your ear remains. the moment your hand rests on your chest, you feel the pounding in your chest—and you realize that it’s been your heartbeat all along.

you dig through your bag until you manage to fish out an opened pack of cigarettes, and you don’t even think twice about asking a group of strangers smoking to light up your last cigarette.

first drag. you shut your eyes close as you lean against the brick wall.

second drag. your brain has turned cloudy and your heart rate has slowed down.

third drag. you still think of him.

you pull out your phone, greeted by multiple missed calls from jaehyun and julie, but you ignore them as you scroll through your contacts for taesan’s name. as soon as you spot him, your thumb hovers over his phone number.

and the next thing you know it, your phone is pressed against your ear as it rings.

your friends would’ve shouted at you if they knew what you were doing. at first, they seemed to enjoy hearing the first few escapades you would share with him, until they asked you what you two were. they found out you were entangled in a life of mixed-signals, and your distress had only made them beg you to cut him off. you should’ve listened to their advice. after all, they pointed out all his red flags in every problem, every story, you shared.

but you did none of the sorts.

the ringing goes silent. you almost think the call was dropped until you hear him clear his throat from the other line. “hey, how’s my sweetheart?”

you thought it was a common thing taesan did with friends but it came to your surprise that it’s the first time jaehyun has heard him refer to someone with that nickname. you don’t know why he calls you that, and you never complained—until now.

“why do you call me that?”

“sweetheart? because the first time i met you, you were sweet to me. you’ve always been sweet to everyone.”

you shake your head. “no, not that.”

“what?” taesan’s confusion only has your heart rate racing once more. if he couldn’t even understand what you’re referring to, what more did he think about where you two stand?

“why do you call me yours?”

it’s silent for a moment.

wind grazes against your skin as you take another drag. “why do you do that? why do you always reach out for my hand whenever we walk? or always wrap your arm around me?” when he doesn’t say anything, you take that as your sign to continue. “why is it that you always bring me back to your place? why do you tell me to stay for the night? and why do you hold me so close every night?” you exhale. “why do you do all that?”

taesan continues to remain silent. “i just,” you slide down the wall, crouching as you look down, “you say all these things… do all these things, and i get confused. whenever i’m with you, you always seem to get touchy with me, and you don’t care whenever i say that your friends might get the wrong idea.”

it never helped that he boiled your statements into shame—because you could never be embarrassed of him. yet, he could never define what you two were. what didn’t help is that he would always answer jaehyun with, “just friends,” whenever his friend asks about you two.

“and taesan, i was willing to keep up with it until you wanted something more official. but the months kept going, and suddenly i was suffering from every moment you grew distant from me or i saw you getting touchy with someone else.”

you take another drag, and taesan still refuses to say anything.

“everything you do makes me think that there is something going on between us, and maybe i am getting the wrong idea, but i’m begging that you tell me that i’m not just someone you’re just looking to have fun with. i can’t continue with this if we don’t settle on what we are.”

as seconds go by, you almost think that he dropped the call on you. but you know he’s still there. “taesan.”

“yeah?” he finally speaks up.

“i’m only asking you one thing. what are we?”

and when you’re met with silence once more, you realize the answer all by yourself. if you two were something, he would’ve interrupted you as you list down your questions. if you two were something, he would’ve had no problem telling jaehyun what he thought about you. if you two were something, he would’ve been able to answer you in a heartbeat.

“y/n, i enjoy your company. i like having you around and all, and you seem to understand me in a way that my friends don’t.”

despite the seconds of silence that pass, you know there’s another half to the sentence.

“but i’m not looking for anything serious right now. i’m sorry you saw it that way.”

your friends are right. you should’ve known better than to expect something out of this. it was doomed to fail from the start. maybe if you listened to your friends earlier on, you wouldn’t have found yourself in too deep with someone who could never understand the boundaries. 

“maybe it’s best that we don’t see each other anymore,” taesan says.

it pained you to hear him say that because at the start of each day, you would seek him out knowing you’d end it with him. it almost hurts imagining what tomorrow would be like knowing you wouldn’t see him anymore.

but for once, he was doing something right.

you nod before saying, “okay. i’m sorry for thinking that.”

the call drops. he didn’t bother to say goodbye. 

as you take another drag, you stare off into nowhere while you’re left to replay everything that went down between you two. maybe you should’ve done better to uphold those boundaries, ask him earlier on if he was interested in being in a relationship, and you could’ve avoided wasting your months on someone who couldn’t imagine something with you.

you should’ve been mad that this is the outcome.

“there you are!” you whip your head to see jaehyun with a worried expression. “i’ve been looking for you everywhere! you weren’t picking up your phone. what are you doing outside?”

then, jaehyun sees the cigarette in one hand and your phone in the other, and his frustration dissipates. you rip your eyes from him, avoiding eye contact as you recount what went down within those months with taesan. when your friend crouches beside you, you try to keep your feelings at bay. after all, it’s better to keep everything to yourself.

yet, it takes jaehyun’s hand against your back for the tears to finally come out.

you disappointed your friends as you continued to see taesan without their knowledge. you disappointed yourself by thinking something could come out of your months spent with him.

but most of all, you disappointed taesan by becoming another person who caught feelings.

(and what’s worse to say is that you hold out hope that he’d come running back to you. you’d forgive, and forgive, and forgive. you’d accept him back with open arms no matter what.)

(so for now, you’re left looking for anything that could fill the void that he’s left until he comes back.)

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @blankjournal @onedoornet @kstrucknet

boynextdoor permanent tag list: @bndokidoki @0310s @whyilovewhales-pdf

forget me not

(kaeya x reader)

he promises to take you out to dinner, but he never shows.

“Would you like to place an order now hon?” The waitress asks softly, making you look from your empty wine glass up to her soft eyes.

“Ah, if I can order another glass of wine that would be nice! I’m still waiting,” you look outside the big window next to you, seeing the sky much darker than when you first sat. “I’m sure he’ll arrive soon.” You turn back to her smiling, repeating the same thing for the fourth time for the past two hours trying to convince yourself more than her that he’ll show up. He always does.

“Of course, I’ll be back with the bottle in just a minute.” She nods, turning to get you more of what you requested.

You don’t remember the last time you drank, heck you don’t even drink much to begin with but it’s all you can do to kill time. You don’t want to eat without him and spoil your appetite, he will show up soon.

You know he’s busy, he’s the Captain of the Knights so it’s expected. When he proposes the idea of going out you couldn’t hide your excitement. Anything to do with Kaeya was your favorite.

You arrived at the restaurant the time he told you to be there, at 7pm. The clock reads 9:30 now but it’s ok, it’s understandable. He’s the captain of the Knights after all.

The lights surrounding the small restaurant eliminates the busy nightlife in Mondstadt. You eye the people who are passing by, smiling at the elderly people who walk with their significant others, the parents holding their children’s hands as their laughter fills the air. But your eye catches something from afar.

The familiar head of blue hair among the people walking by. Your stomach erupts with butterflies seeing him finally. Walking down the stairs to the main shopping area in Mondstadt. But as he inches closer you see he isn’t alone. He’s walking with someone, no. He’s holding onto someone who’s leaning on him.

Your eyes squint a bit, trying to see if what you’re seeing is correct. But you see him smiling with the woman next to him mixed in with everything else and your heart goes heavy.

You see his smile much clearer now that they both are closer, he has his arm hooked around hers, almost as if he is holding her upright to keep her from stumbling and she’s giggling at him, eyes wide looking up at him leaning into him as much as she can.

The two walk past the restaurant and down towards Diluc’s tavern, Kaeya didn’t even glance at the restaurant you were currently sitting in waiting for him. Not once, he kept his eyes on the girl the whole time.

You reach for your pocket watch with a heavy hand and flip it open, seeing the time 9:45 pm. Almost three hours, three whole hours and he’s with someone else. He forgot.

You quickly finish the last of your wine and blink. Did he actually forget?

You wave your waitress down when she passes you, making her stop.

“Actually, can I purchase a whole bottle of wine please?” You ask her and she nods, her smile falling a bit at your expression. Your eyes look glossy.

He promised you a night out after so long. You’ve both been so busy with work this sounded so nice but it was too much to ask for apparently. He had more important matters.

Diluc makes his way down the street to his tavern and spots you sitting alone in the restaurant. Glass of wine in hand and solemn look on your face.

His eyebrows furrow. “Why are they out alone right now?” He thinks.

Part of him wants to stop and check in, but part of him knows to not get into people's business. He doesn’t want to sadden you further by making you talk about it. But if he makes another run in a while and still sees you in there, he'll stop by.

Diluc pushes the door to his tavern open, his eyes fall on Kaeya and Amber helping a woman who is belching into a bag, Amber is rubbing her back and Kaeya is holding napkins for her. This makes Dilucs mouth from the line. ”What's going on?” he thinks.

“I got her from here. I’ll take them Barbara just in case.” Amber helps the woman up to her feet and walks to the door, Diluc holds it open for them.

“Thank you, I'll make sure to check in with Albedo and Jean tomorrow.” Kayea waves her off, eye falling on an unamused looking Diluc.

“Your plus one got sick?” Diluc speaks up, making Kaeya’s smile drop.

“Not my plus one, a subordinate.” Kaeya answers flatly, not even laughing at such a dumb joke.

“Why bring one of your knights here?” Diluc asks, taking his coat off, rolling up his sleeves.

“They were exposed to a potion in Albedo’s lab, he suggested bringing them here. He said grape juice might help sober them up, where else would I go to get it when you sell the best.” Kaeya shrugs, making Diluc hum.

“You’re not drinking?” Diluc raises a brow at Kaeya when he realizes there’s no alcohol in front of the captain.

“Nope, I already feel like I’m forgetting something, if I drink I really won’t remember. I’d rather not.” Kaeya sighs, a looking out the window.

“I saw y/n on the way here.” Diluc brings you up, at the sound of your name Kaeya looks at Diluc again his eye brightens. His focus now is on what Diluc has to say.

“My darling? Did you talk to them? What are they doing out this late?” Kaeya smiles, though he’s confused. You’re never out this late.

“They were in the new restaurant down the street, they were drinking.” Diluc clears his throat at the last part.

Kaeya tilts his head. “Alone? What do you mean by drinking?” Kaeya asks

“They had a glass of wine in their hand, they were sitting alone at-

Kaeya tries to think of why you’d be out so late, you don’t have any appointments this late. You didn't tell him you were meeting anyone. His eye catches the calendar behind Diluc and feels his heart drop when he notices the date.

“What time is it?” Kaeya cuts Diluc off.

Diluc pulls out his pocket watch and sighs. “Just hit 10pm” he shows Kaeya and sees the color drain from his face.

“Oh no.” Kaeya stands up in a flash. Before Diluc can question him he’s out the door.

His legs don’t stop. It’s so dark out and you’re alone. How long have you been waiting?

Kaeya sees the restaurant come into view and sprints faster, throwing the door open the instant his hand makes contact with the knob.

The restaurant goes quiet, the few customers and waiters in there stare at the Captain who seems to be out of breath.

He ignores the stares, his eye scanning the vicinity for one person and one person only.

But it's strange, you're not here. He walks further to the back and sees an empty table with a coat that looks familiar.

He sees a waitress clearing empty wine bottles from it, quickly making his way to your coat.

“Excuse me,” Kaeya greets the older waitress and she smiles at him.

“Hell- Captain Kaeya hello! What brings you here?” the waitress smiles.

“I'm looking for someone. Do you know if the person that was sitting here left?” He asks, seeing the waitress’ smile drop a bit.

“Why yes. They were here for a while but they left not too long ago. They had drank a lot of wine and ordered no food. I offered to walk them home since they seemed a bit off balance but they said it was ok. I realized they left their coat a bit too late. I had gone out to tell them but they were already gone.” She explains, feeling sorry for you.

Kaeya feels his chest tighten.

“Thank you. If you don't mind, can I take the coat with me? I'd like to give it to them myself.” Kaeya asks.

“Why of course how sweet of you.” the waitress nods her head, gesturing with her hands for him to take it.

“Thank you.” He quickly thanks the waitress before turning around.

“Wait.” She calls out, making him turn around.

“If I can bother you to check on them right now, I'm worried. If you do stop over there please take this.” she walks past him to the front counter, grabbing a bag.

“I had intended to give this to them since they didn't eat the whole time. They refused, however.” The waitress hands Kaeya the bag of food and he nods.

“Of course, I was planning on stopping by. Thank you for your concern."He thanks her, turning to leave the restaurant. The waitress can see how uneasy Kaeya was from his face, she knows that you were waiting for him all along. When you got up to leave, in your drunken state you told her to tell Kaeya you went home and not to worry.

Kaeya steps out and the cold night air hits him. Did you walk home without your coat? It's freezing. Kayea feels even worse.

His legs walk at such a fast pace, not daring to slow down.

Did you make it home safe? Are you ok? Why did you leave alone?

He starts to run, almost sprint. His mind is racing with the worst.

He turns the corner to your house and stops in his tracks. He sees you. However, you’re not inside the house. You're sitting on the porch leaning on the wall. It's freezing.

His legs move fast again. He drops to his knees when he makes it to you. Grabbing hold of your arms to wake you.

You're freezing to the touch.

“Darling? Hey.” he shakes you a bit and you stir from your sleep, blinking your eyes.

“-ts so cold.” you whisper.

In seconds you feel a coat draping over your shoulders, then a soft fabric around your neck.

Your vision clears and your eyes make out who's in front of you.

Your eyes immediately begin to burn.

“Hey hey, love I’m so sorry please don't cry. I promise I didn’t mean to forget my love, things just happened and it slipped my mind.” He pulls you in when he sees your eyes glossy. His own eyes start to burn.

“Archons, why are you sleeping outside? Do you understand how dangerous that is?” He questions, pulling back a bit seeing you now refusing to look at him.

“I-it was so embarrassing. I sat there while so many people walked in and out. I saw you with someone else and it looked like you were having fun. I was a-alone for hours. I left the restaurant and I left my k-key in the coat of my jacket.” You feel your lip tremble a bit, you’re trying your absolute hardest to not cry but he’s standing right in front of you looking so guilty it hurts.

“That person you saw with me was a subordinate, I wasn’t doing anything else with them while I was out. I was ordered to take them to the tavern to get grape juice to get rid of the effects from a potion they had gotten exposed to. Love, please.” He explains, tone serious as his hands run up and down your shoulders, making you feel warm again.

“It wasn’t my intention.” His whispers, hand coming up under your chin making you look at him.

“Never ever walk home alone again. Not in this state.” He pleads, face full of concern, his eye scanning you making your own eyes burn more.

You notice his white scarf is gone then look down, realizing that’s what he put around you when he found you here.

“I just wanted to s-spend time with you.” You hiccup tears now freely falling down.

He leans in, kissing your cheek, then your other one, up to your forehead, your nose, your chin and stops in front of your lips. You feel his warm breath fan over you and you relax at his simple touch.

“My love, please don’t cry.” His eyes close and he takes a deep breath. He was so worried but you're in front of him, you’re safe with him.

“You have me, I’ll spend as much time as you want until my time is due I promise.” He leans back abit, opening his eye taking you in.

You look tired, you drank and you never do. He put you in this state and it pains him.

“You promise? You promise me i-I’m not thinking the worst, that you still want me and you’ll stay with me?” You ask.

Kaeya doesn’t respond, he leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Hands holding you softly as he gives you another one, and another and another until you're out of breath.

“I swear to the archons above that I want nothing more than to call you mine alway and forever if you’ll allow me.” He pulls back, thumbs wiping any remaining tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

And they do, more spill out. Having your doubts and feeling insecure gets to you often but Kaeya is so patient, so understanding. Him assuring you, being here right now, apologizing proves he meant no wrong. And you believe him, you trust him. You know he wouldn’t do that now, him being here proves so.

“Darling, let’s get you inside, it's freezing.” He stands, holding his hand out to help you to your feet. Placing his hand on the small of your back when you wobble.

“I’ll explain everything better, in full detail of what happened today once you're inside, once you eat, I promise love.” He assures you still holding onto you, not wanting to let go just yet. You nod, holding his hand abit tighter as he unlocks the door to your shared house, ushering you to walk in first. Seeing him this worried, him running here when he realized he forgot. He found you and immediately checked on you. You have doubts often, but seeing him right here cleared any doubts about today. You will listen to what he has to say and believe him because he’s here that’s all that matters right now. Kaeya is here, he’s yours and you won’t doubt him. Not when he looks at you with such loving eyes and holds you so gently, not when he cares so much. He’s here and that’s all that matters now, but most importantly Kaeya didn’t forget.

_________________

author’s note: hiiii lovelies!!! :D it’s been ages since I’ve posted UGH IVE MISSED WRITING SM! :( I’m sorry for the small hiatus. I wasn’t ok but it’s better now, I notice when I feel the most hurt or pain I write the most it helps me convey what I feel and I love writing, you all giving feedback and enjoying them makes me love writing too! I hope you enjoy, I hope you’re taking care and all in good health MWAHHHH IVE MISSES YOU ALL SO MUCH!^~^<33! (ALSO THIS ISNT EDITED so sorry for any errors!)

raiden should bring back the vision hunt decree because ororon (and dori) are ruining the bad bitch electro line up

🌱 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓆝𓇼 .

넌 아름다워 푸르디푸른 눈빛

[ A LITTLE DEATH — FT. KINICH ]

synopsis: sometimes, he comes back to you with a beating heart. other times, his body is cold and limp until he reemerges from the flames. you never get used to kinich falling during the pilgrimage, but you’re certainly used to the feeling of his body

word count: 4.4k words of emotional porn. ty & goodnight

before you read: female reader ; major spoilers for natlan archon quest and kinich’s character story one ; kinich falls during the night warden war and resurrects so technical character death (but not for long) ; graphic descriptions of injuries and blood from war ; mentions of gambling, alcoholism and abuse (his father’s lore) ; slight exploration of mortality ; hand jobs ; orgasm delay (kinich to himself) ; cunnilingus ; fingering ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; not proof read because i wrote this all in tumblr drafts like the psycho i am

notes: this is an unhealthy progressing obsession. this boy is not good for my health unfortunately

“Will you stop crying?” He sighs softly, thumb tracing your cheek as it catches yet another rivulet of your sorrow.

You glare up at him, lips curled into a scowl as you sniffle and counter, “how about you stop dying?”

Kinich is no stranger to dying. He and death are good friends, in fact—he visits often, and in return, it houses him kindly for however short his visit may be.

He likes traversing the Night Kingdom, likes to speak to those who have borne his name before him. Dying isn’t so bad when you get a chance to see the things he does in the realm of the Wayob.

But you don’t like to see the aftermath. Blood. Bruises. Cuts. Gashes. Sometimes mangled limbs. Every time he falls in battle, the aftermath serves as a jarring reminder that revival is miracle you can’t take for granted.

Kinich doesn’t understand it, but he tries to. He holds you when he comes back, listening to you sniffle into his chest. He’s always silent as his hand rubs along your back, always unsure of what to say.

I lost you, you’ll always whisper first.

I was always going to come back, he’ll always respond.

The Pyro Archon, you think, loves fiercely enough to rival the God of Cryo herself. The Tsaritsa, God of Love, loves clearly. It’s delicate as it leaves chills, and yet, it is reserved, rare to find after she’s hardened herself. The God of War’s love takes form in the exact opposite. It’s blazing. Warm. Unrelenting. Irrevocably bright. It’s a flame that never dies out, that never needs a ceremony or ritual to keep burning like the contending fire.

She loves all of her children—you know that because you see it on her face, too.

The brief, fleeting flash of horror every time she sees a body. The bitter pride that comes with such a noble sacrifice. She loves her people, and that’s why, when your tears hit the ground as you cry for a fallen Kinich, she gives your hand a squeeze right before she brings enters the night kingdom to bring him back.

The people of Natlan are proud of their history. So much, that they find honor in dying for the cause.

You think you’re the only exception.

You and death are not good friends. You don’t like the way it mocks you with the limp hands of the boy you love and his beat-less heart. You don’t like the way it cozies up against him, dragging him away from you with its hand clasped firmly in his.

It never takes him away for too long before it gives him right back, but you don’t like sharing.

Not Kinich. Not with death.

Your broken out of your thoughts when his fingers gently press into your cheeks, squeezing them together as his hand tilts your head up from his chest to look into his eyes.

“I’m okay,” he insists bluntly, but never without that gentleness.

You’d laugh any other time. Always so straight to the point, you’d tease if it were some other day.

Instead, this time, you sniffle once more before you croak, “you don’t know what it’s like to witness.” Slowly, your hand creeps up his body, traveling over his abdomen before coming to a stop right over his heart. “This time…this time it was here.”

This pilgrimage, Kinich comes back to you with a stab through his heart. Other times, he’s returned pierced through his lungs from behind. Or perhaps with a bloodied head, split open by a blunt force.

It never gets easier. This time, however, you think it’s gotten even harder.

He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s contemplating what to say before he decides to toss the idea of words out entirely. Suddenly, his hands find your waist, flipping you to sit on his lower belly, legs straddling his hips.

Kinich isn’t always good with words. He can count on one hand the number of people he’s had in his life to love. His life has not been kind enough to him to allow keeping all fingers up at the same time.

One for his mother. Down.

One for his father. Down.

And one for you. Up.

He’s sure one day, he might be able to lift a finger for Mualani and Kachina, too. He cares a great deal about them, of course. But love is a difficult thing for him to grasp—perhaps because it’s always been something he never got in full.

Not until you.

More than most people, Kinich understands loss. You know that. He understands it too well, in fact. Sometimes, he wonders if he’d lost his father’s love long before the body was limp and lifeless to show for it. Sometimes, he wonders if his mother ever loved him enough to count as a loss at all. Maybe if she had, then she wouldn’t have walked away. Maybe she never loved him quite as much as she loved herself.

But you’re different for him. You love him more than you love anything else. More than yourself, too. He’s never been loved more than anything else. His father loved gambling, maybe even the burn of alcohol on his tongue, too. His mother loved freedom, and more than that, she loved the idea of living in the absence of fear. Neither loved him more than any of those things.

So, you’re different. You know that, too. You’re a loss he can’t comprehend. Not that he’s ever had to, of course, but his brain cannot handle the idea of being without you.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t fully understand your pain. Maybe that’s why he wonders why knowing he’ll always come back from falling isn’t enough to soothe you.

He’s never loved someone who he knew would come back even in the face of death. It’s a luxury, he thinks sometimes—you get to love him with the luxury of a safety net. But you’re too precious to feel the weight of a real loss. He hopes he can shield you from it for as long as he can, one pilgrimage at a time.

His hands settle for your hips, squeezing once, twice, a third time before he sits up and pulls you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

You kiss back easily. Drinking the breath straight from his mouth is best proof that he’s alive. You take it in greedily.

“I’m okay,” he repeats one more time. This time, it’s a much softer tone. Like a gentle reminder. Like a plead to understand.

His hand grabs yours, pressing it right over his heart so you can feel the erratic beating under your palm. Just from kissing you, it’s rapid enough that he almost feels he should be embarrassed. But you close your eyes and let out a shaky breath, making him watch you carefully as he takes in the relief in your face.

“You’re okay,” you nod slowly.

“I am,” he agrees.

You don’t know when it happens or who starts it first. One moment, your hand is traveling under his shirt to feel his bare skin, to have better contact with him so you can feel more proof he’s alive.

Warm skin. Flexing muscle. Damp sweat. When your hand finds his heart again, his hand cups the back of your head and pulls you into a heated kiss.

Clothes come off after that. It’s a blur. It’s not until you untie the bandana to uncover his forehead do you really take it all in.

Bare under you, Kinich is alive. The proof his body is breathing and pumping blood through his veins is right there before you—standing tall between his legs in the form of a flushed, red cock. Blood rushed there to prove his desire for you.

“Last time, it was here,” you whisper, thumb tracing a pale, faint scar over his ribcage, right where his lung is. “Did it hurt?”

“It did,” he nods, studying you as you don’t meet his eyes. “I don’t remember much of that, though.”

“Do you like it?” You whisper. “Is that why you do it?”

He’s silent. And then, quietly: “Sometimes.”

“Why?” You breathe, cupping his cheeks as you search his eyes for an answer.

Finally, in a rare moment, he chuckles. “Because it’s good to remember I’m alive,” he murmurs, “right before you die is when you realize you’re alive the most. Why you’re alive, too.”

“I don’t understand,” you furrow your brows in frustration. He smiles fondly, kissing your jaw as he lets out a low hum.

“I think of you,” he whispers, sucking sweetly into your skin, “and then I remember how you’re alive, too. Every time I die, you get to stay alive a little more.”

The abyss never goes away. Now, more than ever, he’s aware of that. It’s a war he has to see the winning side of, no matter the price.

There’s a loss this time that he’s unwilling to pay. Can’t bear to witness. Can’t allow to happen.

You decide you give up trying to understand—much like you do every year. Instead, you throw yourself into feeling him, pulling him into a heated, deeper kiss as your tongue glides against his. You give into the battle fast, letting him take the lead and taste you.

You’re not one for battles, not like Kinich is. You’d rather relish in peace than remember the cruelties of war.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. “I can’t lose you.”

“You’ve never lost me,” he argues.

“It doesn’t feel that way,” you admit quietly.

“Then let me show you I’ve always been right here.”

As if on cue, his cock twitches between your bodies, hot and throbbing as it presses against your lower belly. You reach between your bodies, wrapping around the thick girth before your thumb grazes the tip.

He shudders, stifling a groan as you slowly smear the dribbling pre cum along his length, taking gentle care to make sure you don’t hurt him.

You’ve seen Kinich hurt enough times.

“Does that feel good?” You grin slightly, watching his eyes flutter shut as you stroke him up and down, fisting around him in a tight squeeze.

“Feels great,” he breathes, “like I’m very alive.”

“Good,” you nod.

“Fuck,” he chokes when you squeeze around the tip, pace quickening as you glide your palm up and down along him faster.

Faster.

The faster he cums, the faster you’re proven he’s living once more.

But he stops you—right before he can spill into your hand, a shaky wrist comes to force yours to stop moving. You look at him questioningly, and he closes his eyes and takes labored breaths to calm himself from the slow, fading orgasm that would’ve shaken through his body.

“What are you—oh,” you gasp, when your body is flipped to lay on your back, Kinich hovering above you as he stares down at you.

You think love is the look in his eyes when he sees you like this, every time. That longing in his pupils, desperate and almost pained even though you’re right there.

Loving something is always a double edged sword. It hurts just as much as it heals—the scabs forming around your heart from his temporary departure is proof of that.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing along your neck.

I love you isn’t something Kinich says often. You feel his love in other ways. The fresh fruit he brings you on his way back from a commission. The small kiss between your brows he always greets you with, and the delicate kiss to your mouth when he leaves. The hand on the small of your back as he guides you along places, never letting you feel his absence. The pillow he shares with you every night when you invade his space and take up his side of the bed.

You know he loves you. Being reminded is a good feeling, though. Your body shivers as you feel a familiar ache building up between your legs at his sudden confession.

“More than anything?” You ask.

“Yes,” he responds, amused.

“You better not be lying,” you warn playfully.

He chuckles—you’re slowly coming back to your usual self. Causal teasing and playful flirting. You’re all the things he’s not. Open. Vulnerable. So inexplicably bright. You smile and something in him heals. Something in him itches to do better—be better.

“When have I ever lied to you?” He challenges.

You pretend to think for a moment before caving and stretching your lips into a wide grin. The first real smile of the night. You pull him close, kissing him again. Just to kiss him. There’s no heat or desire this time around.

He kisses back sweetly. Just to kiss you.

“What did you see this time?” You whisper when you pull away. “In the Night Kingdom.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, tracing shapes into your hip with his thumb, “I think I was too busy thinking of you.”

Kinich is only flirty when he avoids something. He’s only ever indirect when he doesn’t want you to know something. It takes form in less honest, more playful banter that he learns from you.

You sigh, rolling your eyes half-heartedly as you whisper, “don’t lie to me.”

“I did think of you,” he insists. “It’s not a lie. I always think of you.”

He decided to prove it by dropping down to busy himself between your legs, gently spreading them enough to press his nose against your clit as he breathes you in.

Sweet. You’re always sweet. You taste and smell it. You drip of honeyed, saccharine desire. When his tongue presses between your folds, he thinks he’s dipping it in gold.

“K-kinich, wait—”

“You say that every time,” he raises a smug brow. His fingers press into you, spreading you open as he inspects your fluttering walls. “But you never mean it, do you?”

Filthy, you think. He’s got an air of pure obscenity to him that you’re sure comes only when he’s tired of feeling alone. When he needs to know you’re here for good and not just for the moment.

“You play dirty,” you scowl, twitching when his tongue swirls over your clit, the smooth rumble of his chuckle vibrating against the sensitive bud. His fingers curl into you, pressing against a very delicate, very responsive spot in the back of your walls.

“Is that so?” He drawls, “you don’t exactly seem to mind it,” he murmurs.

And then his lips wrap around your clit, sucking as his tongue rolls in circles against it as you writhe. You can feel the tips of his digits bully into that same spot over and over, making your back arch as you whine.

“Fuck,” you breathe, “baby, please.”

You don’t know what you’re pleading for. He’s giving you what you want exactly how you want it—maybe that’s why you always say it, though. So you can never stop having him. Asking and asking and hoping he’ll give you everything without pausing.

He does, too. Kinich never gives half of himself into anything. For the right price, you get all of him. You pay the price in gentle kisses along his cheek and soft fingertips in his hair. In a warm lap under his cheek when he’s tired and a soft voice to remind him he’s not alone. In a worried look every time he’s scuffed and a soft smile every time your eyes meet his.

You pay the price of your love, and he compensates you with the reward of his. It’s a fair trade.

The only difference is that unlike his other deals, Kinich would still pay his love to you even if you stopped paying yours. He couldn’t stop if he tried. It’s an exception he doesn’t exactly choose to make, but doesn’t necessarily want to change, either.

Lucky for him, you don’t show any signs of pulling away.

“You’re beautiful,” he says quietly, whispering the words into your cunt like he’s speaking directly to your desire, “and mine.”

“G-gods,” you moan, hand flying to grasp at his hair and tug as his fingers quicken their pace, fucking into your heat mercilessly as his tongue rolls over your clit.

It’s hot. It always is in the Pyro Nation. But hotter is the growing desire in the pit of your belly, and the heat between your legs that only one person can ignite. The flames lick at your sanity before something erupts in your system and all you feel is a gush of pure, white hot pleasure.

“That’s it,” he praises, working you through your orgasm as you let out a soft cry of his name.

Kinich is alive. You know that because only he could make you feel this way, and he is. He’s making you feel like there’s love between your legs as he coaxes the height of pleasure from you, buried into the apex of your thighs like it’s the only place he ever wants to be. You’re reminded that instead of blood dripping from his fingertips, it’s the essence of your arousal.

You’re reminded that when you need him, he’s never not there. Never leaving you behind from this world into another.

“I love you,” you blurt out in a post-orgasm haze.

He looks up at you with a toothy grin. It’s so rare to see him smile so freely. It’s like a child’s, sometimes. Something youthful and joyful and almost innocent enough that it makes your heart ache a little more than it does feel full.

Only a little, though.

“You say that a lot when I make you cum,” he laughs smoothly, a boyish and sweet little sound. You huff with a roll of your eyes.

“You do too,” you counter. “Maybe we only love each other when we feel good.”

“I always feel good with you,” he grins.

“I can make you feel a whole lot better,” you wink, wriggling your brows in a playful, tempting offer.

He takes it. With another soft laugh, he climbs up your body to hover his face over yours, admiring the sweat clinging to your forehead like it’s proof of his good work.

“Go on then,” he whispers. “Make me feel better. I just died today, you know.”

“I know,” you grumble only slightly, “I remember that very clearly. It was very rude of you.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he offers.

When Kinich was young, love was transactional. His father loved him with a box of sweets when a gamble of wages doubled. His mother was happy enough to afford him her gaze when there were flowers in the vase. He knew from early on not to expect any of it unless the proper price was offered.

And then he learned necessities were transactional, too. To exist is to pay a price. He watched as strangers took away his home, the remainder of his family’s belongings packed away as his mother wiped her tears. Food is not free when she is not there to tend to crops. Clothes don’t come easy when your father spends his days drinking away instead of working.

Without mora, you survive more than you live.

He hated it. Hated not having enough. Not being enough. He wasn’t enough to make his father want to be good and he wasn’t enough to make his mother want to stay. Didn’t have enough to offer for something as simple as unconditional love.

Love with you feels a lot different than what he’s grown up learning. You love him even when he’s closed off and a little cold. When his blunt words are a little too blunt and his words press hard into you with force. When he’s tired, and can’t offer you proper company, you love him, too. When he’s gone for days at a time for a commission further away, you still love him as you wait.

It’s always enough for you even when what he gives really isn’t enough at all.

He stopped trying to understand a long time ago. He’s still human—not everything can make sense with the logic of equal transaction. Sometimes, he just wants. Sometimes, he can’t give enough for what he wants. You always give it, though.

He’s stopped trying to make sense of it all for the sake of finally knowing joy. Peace. Possibly even comfort.

“Why do you love me?” He asks softly, rubbing the tip of his hard cock against your thigh. You rub along his bare back with a gentle hand, feeling the goosebumps raise along his skin under your palm.

“Because it’s easy to,” you answer.

“That’s it?”

“Isn’t life hard enough?” You shrug, “it’s nice having something simple. Loving you is easy, and that’s enough.”

“I don’t understand,” he mirrors your words from earlier. “But as long as you don’t stop, I think it’s okay.”

You want to tell him you’ll never stop loving. Every flame in Natlan will have to burn out before you stop loving Kinich. You’re confident that it’s impossible that will ever happen. But instead of words, you gently reach between your bodies to grab at his cock—it’s been hard and neglected for long enough that he lets out a soft, needy sound at the sudden touch.

You bring him to brush against your entrance, murmuring a soft, “I want you,” before he groans in response.

“Fuck,” he says shakily, “me too.”

And then, finally, he presses his tip into you, pushing past your folds and nudging into the deepest part of you.

He’s alive. You know that because you can feel him in the most rawest, purest way. Bare skin to skin. Warmth on warmth. Sweat against sweat. Body tangled into body. He’s alive and here and you can feel all of him at once.

He’s everywhere. He’s in your lungs as you kiss him and steal his breath. He’s in your heart as you feel it skip a beat for him. He’s in your soul as it burns at the very idea of him. And he’s in your cunt as he presses himself into you with a roll of his hips.

You love him when he’s alive.

You love him when he’s dead.

You love him when he’s resurrected.

You love him when he’s yours like this.

“Kinich,” you gasp, letting out a breathless moan as his tip slams into that spongy spot in your walls, “there—y-yes, like that.”

“I know,” he murmurs, grinning a little smugly enough that you feel embarrassed to already be this fallen apart. “I know exactly where.”

“Smooth talker for someone who ruined my whole day,” you huff.

“I told you I’m okay,” he grunts lowly. He kisses your throat, right over your pulse as he whispers, “I’m right here.” You whine as he rolls his hips particularly harshly to slam his cock into your most delicate spot.

“Knowing something is coming back doesn’t mean you like losing it,” you argue. “I don’t want you anywhere but here.” He gasps when your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer as you squeeze tighter around him.

You hate seeing Kinich fall because you’re reminded it’ll happen one day for real. There’ll come a time where he won’t be resurrected. You don’t like being reminded of this simple truth.

He doesn’t understand it because he’s always too busy denying your fall. He’s too busy making sure he fights every battle to win this war so you can live beside him. So you don’t have to succumb to the cruel likes of the abyss.

Neither of you can seem to grasp the other’s mortality very well. So you try to forget in the feeling of being lost in each other’s bodies. Where proof of life blooms in every inch of skin. Every labored breath and drop of sweat, every flex of muscle and rapid thrum of a heart.

You’re alive, and so is Kinich.

He’s not alone, and neither are you.

No one has had to bear a loss, and that’s all that matters. For now, at least.

“You feel so good,” he says hoarsely, letting out a soft, low whine when your walls flutter around him at the praise. “C-can’t…can’t live without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you sob, reaching your limit, “enough talk about living. I’m tired of it.”

“Okay,” he breathes, “then just cum again for me. I want to feel you do it around me this time.”

Your second orgasm makes you forget Kinich is alive. You’re too busy feeling the rush of life yourself. Your body burns with pleasure through every nerve, the familiar snap of pressure between your legs that has your entire form spasming under Kinich.

“’M c-cumming,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, muffling your sounds into his mouth as he swallows them whole.

“For me,” he hums.

“F-for you. Always for you.”

And then he cums too. Hard. For the last time, you’re hit with the evidence that he’s here with you and not somewhere else. Somewhere unreachable. Somewhere in a world apart from you.

He’s spilling warm, sticky cum into your walls with shaky arms holding him up above you, desperate rolls of his hips as he lets out choked sounds.

Skin slaps against skin and a combination of your arousals leaves a mess smeared between your legs, spilling down your inner thighs.

“Fuck—ngh. I’m…I’m…” he trails off.

He’s never been good with words like you. So instead, he buries his head into your neck and presses his nose into your skin, letting you cradle the back to his head so he knows you’re there.

“I know,” you pant, letting him fuck himself into you and ride out the high of his orgasm.

I know you need me. I need you too.

When he slumps over your body, you can feel his heart beat against yours. Rapid. Erratic. Harsh. Pounding. All of it is proof you’re both painfully mortal as you are alive.

“I love you,” you both whisper at the same time, utterly spent.

“You’re alive,” you breathe out a sigh of relief as your eyes close tiredly.

He hums, lifting his head to press a soft peck to your lips before he slumps into your neck against. “And so are you,” he murmurs in exhaustion.

You both fall asleep together with another year behind you.

Writing an emotional Kinich is actually really hard I’m not sure I even got it right bc we haven’t seen nearly enough of him but 😭 I hope this was not ooc enough that it was slightly believable. IDK I had a hard time deciding how he’d be in an emotionally charged moment of intimacy

꒰ 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄 ꒱ 章昊

summary : your boyfriend is denying he's sick, until he can't anymore

genre : cringely sweet fluff, hao x afab!reader, drabble, established relationship tws : pet names, mentions of being sick, pouty hao author notes : not even i can resist princess hao, im not the strongest soldier word count : 1.2k

you approached the man in the kitchen, he was making a tea you could smell from where you happen to be studying. lucky for you, hao knew you well enough that he had two mugs set out on the counter top. he was bobbing the bag as you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his front gently.

“oh, hi!” he said after coming down from being startled. hao let go of the string, and turned around so now you were leaning against him leaning against the cool marble. you kissed the nape of his neck. “i was just about to bring this to you, how’s studying?”

“why’d i ever take environmental chemistry and biology.”

“because you’re a woman in stem!” he explained adamantly. “my woman in stem.”

you rolled your eyes, noticing the puffiness under his—that wasn’t usually there. you also spotted a light tint to his cheeks, it being darker on his nose. your eyebrows creased as you began connecting the dots.

you hadn’t noticed when he briefly came to say hello shortly after showing up to your apartment. and even if you noticed then, you would’ve brushed it off as him just being out in the cold. but now that you were up close and personal, you couldn’t only feel his warmth, but see it splotching his skin.

“hao…” you trailed off, backing off him, and leaning back to island. “why are you making tea? you don’t even like it that much. are you sick?”

he found it strangely odd that you could see through him so well, when his members were almost none-the-wiser to it earlier. he thought he was playing the roll of being healthy exceptionally, not even sniffling though he felt the crushing need to.

you watched as your boyfriend didn’t twitch, didn’t even flinch and definitely didn’t look guilty, but still you knew something was up. so you pressed on, quickly bringing a hand to his forehead—to which he almost instantly tried to dodge—your tell that he was lying through his teeth.

he caught your wrist. “y/n, i’m fine. really, it’s nothing. i just thought tea sounded good, and you just got a new one.” your eyes burned into him. “you know i like whatever you like.”

“yeah, but…” you gave him one last look, him dropping your hand in the meantime. “are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“yes.” he replied simply. “i’m okay, really, y/n. you worry too much. maybe you should’ve been a pre-med student instead.”

“oh, absolutely not.” you laughed, taking the mug he was holding out towards you. “i’d have no time to see you.”

“wow, you really love me, huh?”

you took a sip, mint and ginger lacing your tastebuds. you hummed in approval, wrapping your other hand around the warm ceramic.

“yes, which is why i’m not convinced you’re not sick.” he scoffed, turning his head to the side in disbelief; but he knew you were beyond stubborn when it came to him. “but, i’ll let it go, only until you can’t deny it anymore.”

you left him in the kitchen, going back to your spilled out notebooks and pens. you glanced at the laptop, groaning when you remembered what you were just in the middle of. you cursed whoever decided that equations needed to be used wherever possible outside of math, and gently set the mug against the wood. you put the back of your hand to your forehead, dragging it down to your cheek—just to compare what you briefly felt against hao’s skin. and what you found convinced you that he was sick and in denial about it.

however, you couldn’t figure out why. was he afraid to be in a vulnerable state around you? no, you’ve seen him in more compromising situations. so, was he just being stubborn? was he just trying to play it off because you had noticed when he was playing his role oh so well? you knew him better than that, and he definitely knew that too.

you took a breath, clearing your mind of worry and picking up the black pen that seconds ago laid lifeless. if he needed you, he’d say so, wouldn’t he? you promised you’d just have to wait and find out—and you knew soon enough that you would find out just how bad his sickness would get.

just then, a loud sneeze rang out against the silence, a groan following, though you couldn’t tell if it was because he was annoyed, or if the intensity actually hurt him.

“ha!” you shot up. “i knew it. i know him better than that. he thought he could—" you boasted, until another sneeze met your ears and your eyebrows (once again) came together. you turned briefly to put your pen back down, blinking a couple times when you saw hao standing against the doorframe.

he was pouting, and honestly, even though you knew he wasn’t feeling well, it was satisfying being right—call it your toxic trait but you had to bite back saying i told you so.

just as quickly as you got yourself to calm down, your concern came back. “baby, are you okay?” you reached out for him, and he complied, accepting you against him. he sniffled again, holding you tighter. “baby, why didn’t you just say you were sick. you know i would’ve taken care of you.”

“can you do it now?”

you nodded. “of course, my love. let’s get you to bed.”

you took his hand and led him a couple feet to your neatly made bed. you undid the sheets, pushing him to sit down. he was still slightly pouting his lip out up at you, and you fought the urge to ruffle his hair, instead opting for a gentle kiss against his forehead. he wasn’t normally like this, but whenever he was, you both seemed to milk it dry. he laid down and tucked him in playfully, earning a small laugh.

“i’ll be right back, i'm going to grab you some medicine, okay?”

he nodded, burying himself further into your dense blankets. but before you went, you finally were allowed to check his temperate against your own; it being exactly what you suspected, a fever. after, you ventured to the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets until you found the flu medicine you bought at the beginning of winter, thanking your slightly-younger self for somehow predicting its need.

you came back, and hao instantly sat up. you started insisting through protests, but after he took the medicine from you, he complied, hermitting back under the covers.

“y/n?” he asked. “are you done studying yet?”

you debated for a second, only realizing that you were as ready as you’d ever be—considering this is going on your second week straight of nothing but chem and bio practice tests.

before you had the chance to answer, he lifted the cover for you to join him under. you ran to hit the light switch, coming back and climbing into the bed with your boyfriend. you snuggled against his chest, listening to his regulated heartbeat and breaths. and before you knew it, he was fast asleep.

you just hoped that he would be better once he woke up.

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to chase a dream | zhang hao ˚₊‧⁺˖

all your life, you and zhang hao have been chasing each other. you wonder here, if this is where your symphony ends.

TAGS: musician!au, gn!reader, rivals to lovers, angst with happy ending, suggestive!makeout

A/N: something about zhang hao called for dramatics so here i am (≧∇≦)ﾉ ! self-indulgent as usual :)

WORDS: ~1450, EXTRA: music info and terms here !!

"That was wonderful playing earlier."

History doesn't even begin to describe what you have between you two.

Your friends could joke that there would be enough to write an opera. Star crossed and all. All about the virtuosos of violin and piano. Of Zhang Hao and you.

You want to hark it back to those fitful days in grade school. Full days of comparing sheet music, trying to one-up each other about the difficulty. Hao, and his too big violin case and you, trouncing him every talent show because his hands hadn't quite yet grown out of their stubbiness. The satisfaction in remembering those big whiny tears brings warmth to your soul.

Then, there came high school.

Oh, you loathe it; he doesn't. Not when his hands became a study in lines and grace. Envy would eat you alive if you had any less pride. But you weren't so above yourself to not look at him. Hard to not notice when he grows a head taller and of course, starts topping the local competitions only to shove it under your face.

Your parents loved it. Gave a reason to push you further and deeper into competitions and over the top galas. To push your fire against someone who was all finely diced ice. There was nothing you liked less when you wanted to live for the glory of the crowd, not medals and flowers.

Eyes followed you everywhere when he was in the picture. And yours always found his.

"Here to mock me?" you ask.

The laugh you draw is enchanting. "Never." And it's so sincere you might just believe it. "Just here to say my farewells."

The Winter Gala spins behind both of you: through a door, down some ornate stairs and into a pit of some thoroughly drunk musicians. From the balcony, only the trickles of laughter and music eke out the door. But you would hardly focus on that, not when Hao stands very plainly in front of you.

"Already? it's only an hour into reception." You twirl the champagne in your hand with consideration before you gesture him to come to where you lean on the balcony rail. "Thought you would stay to kiss ass with some of the others."

"Not this time. No, I mean..." The howl of the wind carries his unease. Traffic horns and gala laughter do nothing to smother whatever he tries to hide in his tone. You know him too well.

There's more than history between you two.

But whatever he says next has you rethinking everything. "I'm leaving, leaving. I won't be back in the country for a while so, here I am."

There's a moment where you think he's entirely pulling your leg. Pulling you along to another little joke at your expense. But you've known him your entire life at this point, and you’ve been through too much to realize that he’s not joking.

“… Am I the first to know?”

You count the beats and steady your breath. Years of this, all for what?

“Only Minghao-Ge and Junhui-Ge, and now you. But knowing them, they’ll be drunk enough tonight to let it slip,” he explains in this awfully fond tone. “Mark Lee from the LSO watched me perform at the showcase in July and scouted for me. I think he got on Junhui-Ge’s nerves with how much he emailed him.”

Medals and flowers. Smiles and bows. The curtain draws, where are you now?

"Congrats," you say after a second – watching nothing but your past fly by you. Despite the ache, you raise your glass. "Cheers," you smile and take a sip. Raising it into the moonlight and offering the glass to Hao for his own toast but he just shakes his head.

You pout. "Don’t like it?”

Instead, he takes the glass from you and settles it onto the edge. Pink dusts his cheeks as watches you from the corner of your eye. “Want to remember this.”

Heat flares to your cheeks at the weight of Hao’s words. A night to remember is one way to put it.

"So, when are you off to London?"

"This Monday."

You blink. "... That's fast."

"Why? You think you'll miss me?" and it's said with that smile of his. Infuriating and secret, so many layers of discourse that haunt you – it’s a memory that you'll take to the grave.

"Of course, it's you," you mutter, disgustingly honest with yourself. "It'll just be... quiet, without your excuse of music causing a riot." Honestly, you can barely hear Hao's chuckle when you're too stuck in your head to mind the charm in it.

You want to edge back into your comfort zone of easy quips, nothing serious but scathing wit. But nothing you say lights the fight that used to start so easy back when you two were younger. When your worries were small like the cars below.

A full look at his face is all you want to chance a glance for. What would you see? Remorse? Eagerness? Disappointment? You could read him like a book with a single glance, what’s stopping you now?

"What about you? are you going to stay in Singapore? I thought you'd be the one to chase excitement."

"I’ll chase whatever my parents dangle in front of me.” And the laugh he breathes is empty because you both know it’s bitter but true. Hao’s stood aside long enough to understand. So, when he sidles closer next to you it warms you more than they ever did. "Yixing-Ge told me he's also planning to leave for Boston, promised me that I'll get his seat when it happens."

"If it happens,” he teases.

"It’ll happen."

You nearly jump when you feel it. Hao’s warm hand on top of yours. It’s spindly and calloused, worn out in the way a weathered musician’s should be. It’s all you need to guide you back to where you are.

"I know you'll make it. Just make sure it's something you want.” Hao’s breath is right next to your ear. Clear as day and easy as a song. It’s so simple to say: take what you want.  

Blood in your ears, chest heaving, nothing to catch you when you fall but the discordant crash of keys.

It sounds like a melody.

"It's never going to be something I want."

"Then, what do you want?"

You.

Instead, you turn to face Zhang Hao. A challenge of a smile on your lips because you know where this ends.

To face the music, the crowd, the eyes that watch.

"What's it like? to chase a dream?" you ask.

Brutal, visceral, freeing. An infinite number of interpretations for one word.

The stage becomes your world, and the spotlight burns you alive. Pressure flays your skin even as your fingers glide across smooth keys and you hush your heaving breath. Running to your last page, heart in your hands, smearing red across white. There's no audience when you dream; you are your own critic, you are your own end, but your destiny is not you.

To chase a dream is to become raw.

"Like chasing you."

You hum low and satisfied. Carding a hand through Hao’s hair, you guide him down.

Kissing Zhang Hao feels like being on stage all over again. Being set on fire, skin flaying, blood rushing. It’s everything he isn’t, but everything you are.

You swallow his groan, biting across his lips as your hands trail down him. Everywhere you've wanted to touch feels unbearable. You want to chase this feeling: Hao's hands on your hips and cradling your jaw. Trailing his red ears and holding around his throat; it's little fires everywhere.

Distance doesn’t exist as you push into each other. Hao has you against the rail, hands cradling you like you’re his own instrument. Playing you to pluck you into satisfaction.

Years of us, made for this final movement.

This ache and greed that makes musicians like you two come alive. You know Hao as your years of black and white keys that haunt your dreams and make your reality. There isn’t a crevice in his mind you haven’t touched or a melody that he’s played where he never thought of you.

You hold Hao by the chin, determination set into your eyes and a chord of steel in your tone. "There better be a future for us – I’m not having you leave me here in your past.”

"Anything," he breathes against you. More than history. More than a future. Chasing your dream. "Anything for you."

thanks so much for reading !! this was a tough one but i'm glad i wrote it ! if you enjoyed please like or reblog :D ⭒ masterlist

If the sky is pink and white 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧. 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼 If the ground is black and yellow

favourite sight // leehan

When the annual summer class trip means a visit to Busan and staying at Leehan’s family’s hotel, you know that it will be total chaos, you just don’t expect to fall for your arch nemesis, the most popular boy of the year - Leehan himself.

➳ Characters: class vice-president!Leehan x class president!female reader/you

➳ Genre: boarding school au, summer class trip au, enemies to lovers (but not really), rich kids au, fluff, comedy

➳ Words: 6.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of food, reader can't swim and almost drowns in one scene, academic pressure, playful banter between reader and Leehan in which Leehan is called a show off, stupid tall with stupid long eyelashes and stupid long legs (because she's oblivious duh)

➳ A/N: This story is the second installment of my 'love map' multifandom series which features 3 different idols and 3 different stories that take place in 3 different countries. The stories can be read on their own though.❤️

Header taken from this WHY Concept Film

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️

➳ Taglist: @s00buwu, @emmylksblog, @0310s, @hansuo

When the annual summer class trip means a visit to Busan and staying at Leehan’s family’s hotel, you know that it will be total chaos, you just don’t expect it to be this chaotic. Alas, you also end up falling for your arch nemesis, the most popular boy of the year - Leehan himself.

You weren’t supposed to stay at the hotel of Leehan’s family. You were supposed to go somewhere else, some place that had nothing to do with him, but the arranged accommodation went back on your request when they decided to take on organising a business event for an international company. Not that you could blame them; they were probably better off serving cocktail after cocktail to rich business people than babysit students who were not allowed to drink alcohol and bring in any either.

Like the show-off he was, Leehan rang his parents the moment your homeroom teacher announced that she would need to look for another accommodation, and asked for your help - you as class president and Leehan as vice-president. The boy was done within a few minutes, and your homeroom teacher looked like she was on the verge of crying when he confirmed that his family’s hotel had enough rooms for their class. She had already been stressed over organising this whole trip to Busan on her own while trying to accommodate all the parents’ requests, she probably already thought that she had to cancel the whole trip because of this.

The only reason you held yourself back from snorting was because of Miss Lee, otherwise, you would have made a comment on how Leehan always ended up playing the hero, and how he knew ‘someone’ wherever he went. Sure, everyone was famous and rich in one way or another at KOZ International High School as it was a private boarding school, the number 1 for university admission rate success in Asia and number 5 worldwide, but he just seemed to be everywhere.

Plus, since you were the class president and he was the vice-president, you just had to put up with it all the time. Even if it meant having to shoo away shrieking girls when they caught sight of him in the library as you two were picking up books for the next class or rolling your eyes when you collected mobile phones at the beginning of the day and yet another girl made a joke about how Leehan could keep their phone if it meant that they could have his heart.

You already knew that this class trip would be about him when Busan came out as the most voted destination in this year’s poll, the first Korean city after the last two years - it was Hanoi the summer after freshman year and Shanghai the summer after sophomore year. You just didn’t expect that it would be about him to this extent.

“Were your rooms really not sold out for that week during summer?” You quirked an eyebrow as you exited the teachers’ room, shooting the boy a glance. He didn’t seem to be offended by the implication behind your words, he merely said:

“The hotel has a separate building for events where mostly weddings take place and wedding guests can sleep, and it was coincidentally not booked yet. Wedding season starts a bit later into summer.”

“Of course,” you mumbled under your nose, not like you knew anything about the hospitality industry. Your parents owned a private clinic, the furthest thing from his family’s line of work.

“I’d say it was supposed to happen this way,” he shrugged his shoulders casually, the tie around his neck a bit looser than usual, and you had this inexplicably annoying urge to reach out and fix it for him. You wanted to save your dignity though, you could already imagine the teasing remarks you would get if you willingly did something like this for him, so no thanks, you would rather jump off a cliff.

“Are you that happy to go to Busan?”

“I mean, there’s the seaside, there’s my parents’ hotel, what’s there not to love?”

Everything, you wanted to say, but when you turned a corner, the hustle-bustle of the corridor filled with the students’ chatting blocked out all of the snarky thoughts in your head, and instead, you saved yourself from another 15 minutes of having to witness the boy’s popularity to yourself, and told him that you would go ahead and set up the Physics lab for next class, he could do it next week.

He didn’t protest, he merely gave you a bob of his head and a lazy half-smirk, something that made girls go crazy over him, except you.

The hotel was enormous, to say the least, and you weren’t even in the main area. You really had a separate building to yourself that had a dining room, a dance room and a karaoke room on the ground floor. You had the feeling that they turned a bar into the latter because there were shelves that seemed similar to shelves that held fancy bottles of alcohol, but nothing seemed out of place. You even had an outside pool and a direct view of the seaside, something that made everyone impressed.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us about this place in the previous years? We should have come here every summer before,” Yechan exclaimed as he took out his phone and started recording, probably filming a new video for his Youtube channel. It seemed that every mundane person was either too curious or too bored to get a glimpse into a boarding school student’s daily life because his channel had already accumulated 2 million followers, and he had only started last year. Though it definitely helped that he was half Canadian, half Korean, so he could speak both English and Korean and provide subtitles for both languages.

“I thought you said you wanted us to go to your parents’ hotel next time,” Jungwon chirped in, but the Canadian boy shook his head.

“Nah, Toronto is too cold for summer trips.”

“Can we use the pool too, Miss Lee?” Millie inquired after the two boys settled on dismissing Canada as a possible destination for next year’s class trip. Thank God next year’s trip will be the last one, you didn’t know how you would survive these events any longer. Plus, all the money that you spent on this summer trip should have been donated to charity in your opinion, but alas, it was mandatory.

“Of course, but only until 10 PM, and obviously, be responsible. Some of you can’t swim, so no pushing, alright?”

“Who can’t swim?” You heard Gyuvin ask with his jaw comically dropping, but his question was muffled by the cacophony of suitcase spinner wheels, dropped bags and the usual lively chit-chat of soon-to-be senior year students.

“How do you like it?” Leehan asked, leaning closer to you, so you could hear him, but you gave him a death glare for doing so, and stepped backwards. Too bad that a lamp pole was also there, and you almost bumped your head into it if it hadn’t been for Leehan’s hand taking the hit.

For a moment, you just blinked up at him and his stupid height, too embarrassed for your own good. You were the class president, for God’s sake, you were the person of order and responsibility, you couldn't randomly bump into lamp posts!

You could see from the corner of your eyes that Taesan - Leehan’s friend - thought better of waiting for him, and awkwardly turned around to walk towards the hotel, but you didn’t dare look for his full reaction. You were sure that your face was flushed as it was, you didn’t need anyone else’s reaction on top of Leehan’s.

“Are you okay?” The boy asked uncharacteristically gently, his voice void of any playfulness, which was almost a first for him. Why did he even have to have stupid long eyelashes? Ones that fluttered oh so beautifully while he was looking down at you.

“I’m fine. Never been better. You should just… keep your distance from me,” you warned him as you pushed him away, at least enough, so that you could grab your suitcase again and start walking towards the hotel. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you with his stupid long legs.

“I can see that my closeness is having an effect on you even though you clearly claimed in sophomore year that you are immune to boys like me.”

“I am. It’s not my fault that you sneaked up to me like that, and that lamp post was there behind me,” you pointed out defensively, and kept your eyes on the back of the last two students from your class.

Miss Lee got Mr Brown with him - your English teacher -, so that they could supervise your class, but they were at the front, and you and Leehan were always at the back at events like this, so that no one could get lost (like Yuma and Jo on a company visit to Samsung in sophomore year) or hide in a bush ever again (Gyuvin once tried that during a class trip).

“Well, this is my city, and I’m going to make sure everyone has the time of their life, including you,” Leehan announced triumphantly, flashing a smile at you that was akin to the ones he used when he was campaigning to be voted as the vice-president again after last year. No wonder Rei didn’t get the title even though you would have preferred to have her instead of Leehan.

“Sure. Good luck with that,” you wished with an eye roll, and urged Ricky in front of you to keep moving instead of checking his hair in the hotel’s glass door.

If Leehan’s idea of having the time of your life was handing out shark-shaped gummies and bringing giant Sony party speakers to the pool - the ones that even had microphones attached to them, so you could have a karaoke - on the second night, you would have a pretty miserable life.

Nevertheless, you were only there because Miss Lee and Mr Brown were on duty at the entrance, checking if no one tried to sneak alcohol into the hotel, so you didn’t even bother with a swimsuit, you merely wore a flowery summer dress. Much to some girls’ dismay, most of the boys didn’t go shirtless, they had long-sleeved yet tight swimwear and shorts, the ones people used for some water sports. Though since Ricky’s parents owned the brand they wore, you had an idea why.

Anton was on lifeguard duty since he was on the national swimming team, and he would probably rather jump in to save a drowning student than manoeuvre himself around guys playing with plastic water guns and girls chatting in the pool instead of outside of it. You asked him if he needed anything - something to drink or to take a break -, but he said that he was fine, so you didn’t need to worry.

You acknowledged his answer with a bob of your head, and turned around just in time to be splashed by a huge amount of water by Pierre who had just jumped in. You stood there, frozen, your summer dress completely sticking to your body, and you were in the middle of blinking the water out of your eyes when you heard someone yell ‘class president’ and then you were pushed into the water with the kind of force that you could not resist.

It’s not like you couldn’t get any wetter than this, but you couldn’t swim, and your flailing hands didn’t do a thing to keep you up. You were about to throw every kind of rationality out of the window as your basic survival instincts kicked in, but you could feel strong hands pulling you to the surface in no time, Anton’s body emerging from the water beside yours.

“Are you okay?” The boy inquired with big, bright eyes, his damp hair hiding most of his face before he reached out to push his hair back. 

Still struggling to breathe properly, you mumbled something akin to an answer, and blinked rapidly, taking in the silence around you and the concerned or curious eyes of your classmates.

The only one who wasn’t surprised to see you struggling was Anton since he had gotten the names of students who couldn’t swim in case no one else would jump in to save a drowning student - a list you had volunteered to put together and pass onto him. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that you would be the first one who had to be rescued by him, and that the whole class would know about the fact that you couldn’t swim already on the second day of the trip.

You, the straight A-student, class president since sophomore year, speaking three languages fluently and playing the violin professionally. You, the daughter of the owners of the most prestigious private clinic in not only Seoul but the whole country. You, who was not supposed to have any weakness or fear.

You could faintly hear someone apologise and Anton asking if you needed him to ask for a medical staff, but you shrugged everyone off. Your flip-flops were probably in the pool somewhere after your fall, and you couldn’t be bothered to go back and fetch them. Instead, you furiously trampled back into the hotel barefoot.

It wasn’t just the dress sticking to you, it was humiliation too, something that you had not experienced on such a wide level after being told in front of the whole class that you had messed up a basic equation during a Maths test. No one would have guessed that you had been ill the whole week before the test because you had not let them know about it.

When you heard footsteps behind you, you already knew who it was before you turned to face him in all your wet glory, pitiful compared to his beautiful shoulder-length hair, softest of the brown of chestnuts and fluffiest of the ruffable kind.

“What do you want? I can go to my room on my own, thank you so much,” you told him off before he could have given you an answer, but then, he draped a towel over your body without saying a word.

You were about to shrug it off, but he pulled it tighter around you, holding the ends of the towel with his fists. You looked up at him, eyes throwing angry daggers, and maybe that was what prompted him to justify his actions.

“Your dress… it’s kind of see-through now,” he blurted out as if it was difficult for him to say something that could have been - under different circumstances - borderline flirty. But this was in no way a time and place where you would have wanted to be told that the white flowery dress of yours that should have not been in contact with any kind of liquid was now showing everyone what was underneath. How stupid of you, how stupid of those stupid boys to still act like dumbass kids and push others into the water.

Even if it was not Leehan who did this to you, his remark set something off within you, like when the countdown is up on a ticking time bomb or the trigger is pulled.

“You see, that’s why I didn’t want to come here. It’s not enough that now the whole class knows that I can’t swim but they also saw my underwear. Great. I’m really having the best time of my life, Leehan,” you spitted out furiously, pushing his hands away before pulling the tower tighter around your body, and walking back to your room, drops of water and mortification following your barefoot steps.

Of course, the news of the incident reached your teachers pretty quickly, and both Miss Lee and Mr Brown were knocking on your door as soon as you managed to get changed and hide the remains of your tears with an embarrassing amount of concealer. You reassured them that you were fine, but they told you to take it easy for the rest of the night, they would ask Anton to look over the students in your place since he was already monitoring the pool either way.

Then, Noah also came by to apologise for pushing you into the water. It wasn’t even the most embarrassing part that he had to come by to do it, the most embarrassing part came when he gave you that pitiful look, that ‘oh, I didn’t know you can’t swim’, something that almost made you curse him out right on the spot. Instead, you told him to keep himself in check for the rest of the trip because you wouldn’t help him out in Biology if you ever heard him joke about this incident. He scurried away like a wounded animal, but at least, he came by.

When the third knock on your room came, you seriously contemplated not opening the door. After all, you could be listening to music with your noise-cancelling headphones on, or you could already be sleeping, or even crying in the bathroom like you had done so an hour ago. In the end, you didn’t want to be a coward, and opened the door, but the last person you wanted to see there was Leehan.

“Look, before you ask what I’m doing here, I want to say that I got some stuff for you from the kitchen because Miss Lee said that you didn’t come down for dinner, and I thought you might be hungry,” he started, holding up his hands in front of his chest as if saying that he knew you were about to ask him these questions. You were, and even if he thought that  you were moping in your room (which you did) because you were still embarrassed about what had just happened (which you were), you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing to him.

However, he beat you to it, and continued his monologue before you could even open your mouth to protest.

“It’s not because I think you wouldn’t come down after what happened, but if you’re worried about the others, don’t worry. There is already bigger news such as Kit confessing to Millie and Gyuvin stepping on a bee and getting stung, so everyone’s already over what happened with you. Maybe except Anton who kept asking if you were alright, but that boy is too kind-hearted not to do so,” he said so in such a conversational manner that someone walking by might have thought that you were talking about the weather.

Maybe it was the drowning experience getting to you or the genuine consideration in his words and actions, but you found yourself smiling, and before you could hide it, Leehan also noticed it.

“Oh great, you’re smiling! Now, eat your dinner or you won’t get tall,” he teased you as he reached out the plate of food he brought. There was a sandwich, some veggies, crisps and a napkin on it, plus a bottle of smoothie in his other hand.

“Yah, I take after my mother in terms of height. She would be sad if she heard you criticising my height,” you pointed out, puffing your chest out like you wanted to take pride in your frame. Not everyone could be so stupidly tall as him (and many other boys in the class, by the way).

“Alright, alright, I’ll take it back.”

“Well, thank you,” you retorted a bit playfully before looking down at the plate in your hand. “And for the food, too,” you added a bit more seriously while you looked back at him. He just kept staring at you, the ends of his lips curling upwards in somewhat of an affectionate gesture, and it was so unlike the Leehan that you knew that you found it difficult to form coherent words.

“And the towel, too,” you found yourself admitting, a bit struck by that never-seen-before smile of his. Even his dimples popped off when the smile reached a certain height, and suddenly, you had no idea what to say.

“Well then, I guess my duty’s done for today. Good night, Y/N!” Leehan broke the silence first, breaking the serene moment, but you were actually thankful for him. For a second, you were scared that if you saw more of this side of him, you would start falling for him, and you couldn’t allow yourself to.

“Good night, Leehan!” You wished with a smile that you would not take responsibility for, before closing the door on him.

It’s not that you and Leehan were enemies as per se. It’s more like you were usually of a different opinion, and as class president and vice-president who had to work together pretty much all the time, it was quite bothersome to put up with it. Not to mention the crowd of fangirls following him everywhere.

At first, you thought that he was just a pretty face, joyfully swimming in his glory, but from time to time, you could catch a glimpse into how taxing it was to act like he did so on the daily - reacting to girls with a kind smile no matter what they said, playing along with their flirty remarks and always trying to say the right words to avoid getting into trouble. When some students’ inquiries were far too personal or pushy, you tried to step in, and made excuses for you two, so that you could leave the scene, and far too often, Leehan thanked you for it. He didn’t have to know that you didn’t do it for yourself (which you claimed that you did) but for him.

However, after the events on the second day, you didn’t know what to do with yourself when you were around him. After all, he had no reason to pay you a visit and to bring you dinner. He didn’t even have to confirm it with Miss Lee that you hadn’t come down to get dinner. So why was he going the extra mile? Your first thought was that he wanted something from you, but when the next day passed by without any favours, just a day of going to the aquarium, walking along the seaside and a moderate pool party at night, you grew suspicious.

On the fourth day, when you were done with sightseeing for the day, the teachers gave you three hours of free time to look around by yourselves, and it was the perfect chance to ask the boy about it while the students around you were busy deciding on their activity.

“Do you want something from me?” You posed the question at Leehan straight-forwardly, and the boy furrowed his eyebrows in question, appearing perplexed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean… you’re awfully kind to me these days. Perhaps… did you do something to my locker before we left for the trip?” You guessed suspiciously, suddenly being reminded of the time he put a heart-shaped sticker on your locker with the words ‘class president’ written with ink in the middle of it. It was after you were selected class president for the second consecutive year, and it was his first time being the vice president beside you. Needless to say, it was impossible to remove that sticker no matter how hard you tried, you could only manage to wash off the ink, and now it seemed even more embarrassing to have a random heart-shaped ticker on your locker from no other than Leehan.

The boy must have found it extremely amusing to see you suspecting him like that because he let out that endearing giggle of his that was both boyish and innocent.

“Now that you mention it, maybe I should have…” He teased you with a lopsided grin, and you were about to smack him in the side when Gyuvin, Ricky and Taesan came up to you to ask where you were thinking of going in your free time. You heard Millie, Liv and Selina say that they would go shopping, and Leo said something about wanting to try fishing (though you had no idea if it was allowed at this part of the seaside), you didn’t know about others’ plans.

Truth to be told, you had no idea about yours either, you would probably just find yourself a cosy little café and take a breather because it was hot and stuffy out here, but you didn’t want anyone else to follow suit, so you didn’t say a word.

“Taesan, you know that place that I’ve told you about? You should go ahead with the guys, we need to discuss something with Y/N about tomorrow’s activities,” Leehan answered first, and you gave him a side eye. What more did you need to discuss with him other than the ones you already did?

Taesan seemed somewhat perplexed for a moment, but then, his features smoothened, and he coolly told the others to follow him. Even though Gyuvin suggested that they could wait for you, Ricky patted his shoulder and dragged the lanky boy with him, so it was just you and Leehan again.

“What more do we need to discuss?”

“I want to show you something,” he announced, scratching the back of his neck a bit shyly. Since you were awful at reacting normally to surprises, you merely said:

“Is this the part where you will take me to an abandoned warehouse and leave me there, so that you can be the class president next year?”

Leehan let out a deep, joyous laughter hearing your question, and reassured you that no, he wouldn’t want to run for class president because that was your title, and no, he wouldn’t take you to an abandoned warehouse. He explained that the guys might not enjoy what he was about to show you, but if he remembered correctly, you would do so.

You eyed him for a good thirty seconds before letting him take you where he wanted. After all, it was his city, he knew his way around, so you followed him, and soon enough, you found yourself in the Busan Arboretum with one of the prettiest glasshouses you had ever seen in real life.

You were waiting for the boy to crack a joke or say something teasing, but instead, he merely declared:

“I remembered you making a presentation about the functionality of glasshouses and ending it with different glasshouses in the country, and I don’t know if you remember, but this was one of them.”

“I do, but how do you remember that?” You turned the tables, turning to look at him, to look him in the eyes because you didn’t get it. How did he remember such an insignificant detail from a presentation you had given years ago?

Leehan smiled at you gently as if he was looking at a child, ready to say something, but then, he decided otherwise and averted his eyes to the plants in front of him. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat and asked if you wanted to take pictures. So you let him take a few shots of you in exchange for doing the same for him, and it was all fun and games, acting silly and joking about pushing the other into a cactus when a sudden realisation hit you like lighting:

Were you falling for Leehan?

On the fifth day, you went to the Gamcheon Culture Village with its picturesque murals and quaint alleys, soaking up a mixture of art and history while listening to the tour guide who was assigned to your group. There were many pretty stairs, vibrant art installations and even a statue of the Little Prince and its Fox looking over the houses that were clumped together as if they were meant to be. The tour was supposed to last 4 hours, but it was close to 5 hours by the time everyone stopped posing for pictures and halting at every possible corner.

You must have been visibly in awe because Leehan joked that you should close your mouth, but when you admitted that you didn’t expect Busan to be this diverse, you caught sight of a proud smile stretching across his lips. He reminded you that he told you that he would make sure everyone has the time of their life, but you rebutted by stating that the itinerary was mainly Miss Lee’s work, not his. To that, he didn’t say anything, just kept smiling to himself like a fool, giving yet another reason for Taesan to give him a side eye.

After finishing the tour with a lunch break in between, you picked up some ice cream before the tour bus picked you up and took you back to the hotel. That night was BBQ-themed and there was also a campfire, something so movie-like and childish, yet it had a special feel to it because most of you had never had a campfire. Your families weren’t the typical families that took you camping for vacation. Most of you flew to other countries to visit a store from your parents’ chain or to accompany your relatives to important events. Having a BBQ where you could take part in grilling the meat, preparing the veggies and side dishes, and singing songs around the campfire weren’t exactly the kind of activities that you were used to, but no one complained. Not even Ricky who ate his hamburger with a knife and a fork because he hated getting his hands dirty.

It was also fun listening to all the different songs your classmates sang in all the different languages - from French to Spanish, Vietnamese to Korean -, how different they sounded, yet how much you enjoyed them all despite not understanding the words. One thing that you liked about your school - and your class - was that it was so diverse, you never had to worry that you would stand out because of your skin colour or hair, everyone was welcome. Whilst that didn’t lift the weight off your shoulders that the academic pressure put on, you were grateful that you had the chance to be exposed to such a supportive learning environment.

“Wanna play Truth or Dare?” Zack asked enthusiastically after it seemed like everyone was out of songs, and even Miss Lee dared to sit beside Mr Brown, reassured that no one would set the grill on fire (though Leo was close to it at one point).

“Really? We are almost seniors, that’s for kids,” Yechan refuted with a huff, rolling his eyes in a sassy way.

“Does that mean you have something to hide?” Wonyoung asked with a playful grin, and that was all it took for Yechan to give in and join the game. You passed on it, not wanting to be the victim of any of the ‘dares’ which - based on last years’ games - always included doing aegyo, a popular girl group dance (for both boys and girls), reenacting drama scenes, doing 50 pushups, chugging down Coke within 1 minute or kissing someone. You didn’t want to be a victim of any of it.

The others only protested for like a minute before they forgot about it, and let you walk away from the circle of students sitting around the campfire. You walked up to the edge of the property, leaning against the railing and taking in the scenery. You were so used to the huge skyscrapers in the capital city and the magnificent walls of your boarding school that times like this reminded you that there was a world outside of the little bubble you existed in for most part of the year, or at least the school year.

“Guests always get surprised when they see this view because they initially think our description of a beautiful view of the sea is an overstatement,” Leehan remarked in a conversational manner while he was walking up to you, and halted beside you, only an arm's length away. His hair was seemingly freshly washed, some unruly locks escaping his earlobe and falling into his eyes instead. Even though he did tuck them behind his ears dutifully, you were itching to do the same for him.

Gosh, you were really going insane, weren’t you? And yet… falling for him never seemed so thrilling.

“There are a lot of scams nowadays,” you hummed, pointing out that a lot of accommodations did indeed lie about beautiful views and such, so that people would choose them. His family didn’t lie though. “It’s so pretty,” you admitted quietly, watching as the setting sun painted different streaks onto the surface of the water, colours ranging from grape purple to princeton orange. You usually didn’t notice the sunrise or the sunset when you were scooped up in your room or the library, so having to witness such beautiful installations in the sky for the past week was kind of moving.

“You are prettier.”

When the words rolled off Leehan’s tongue, you snapped your head back to look at him, but just like his tone, his expression was gentle, too. He appeared so soft, so dreamy in that moment with the sunset painting colours onto the canvas of his skin, that for the first time in a while, you were completely speechless beside him. As if you were enchanted or starstruck. Both of which could actually be true.

Leehan though, he took note of your silence, too.

“I don’t even get an “oh, that’s too cheesy, stop it”?” He asked, now with a lopsided grin, and you let out a light-hearted giggle in return. Something weightless bubbled up inside of you when you simply stated:

“I would tell you that if I didn’t know that you like me.”

The boy’s eyes widened to almost twice their size, his lips slightly parting. He looked so baffled, almost as if you had told him that you wouldn’t run for class president next year - something that everyone took for granted after your first year together.

“Y-you know?”

“I mean, I had a feeling after the second day when you checked up on me and brought me dinner, but I became certain after the arboretum visit,” you confessed, somewhat easier now that you saw his reaction, and he didn’t deny it. Maybe the only one who needed convincing about one’s feelings was you about your own. “You didn’t even tell me why you remembered that glasshouse presentation of mine, so after I did some analysing and calculating of our three years together, that’s the conclusion I reached.”

Despite your voice not wavering, your heart was going wild, thumping against your ribcage. You didn’t know why because you knew he liked you, and you liked him too, but still… You could barely process your own feelings, let alone his feelings towards you, and now you saw all the little interactions you had with him before in a whole new light.

“And is that a satisfactory conclusion for you?” He quirked an eyebrow, both amused and uncertain, and the way he played along was all there was to say about your dynamics.

“Yes, because I feel the same way.”

“What kind of same way?” Leehan teased as he took a step closer to you, purposefully making you say it out loud. You heaved a sigh, looking away from his gorgeous face to be able to pull yourself together before you looked back and said:

“You know… I like you, too,” you blurted out as fast as you could, and you were awarded with his cutest toothy smile, dimples popping out, eyes turning into little crescents. Something that you had not seen him display around any girl before, and the fact that it was for you made you feel a bit emotional.

“Of course,” he mused as he reached out, and his fingers started playing with yours resting on the railing, testing the waters. Maybe a few days ago you would have said that you were unable to move because it was so sudden, so unexpected, but now you knew that it was because it was him, and because one touch of his electrified you from head to toe. “I knew you weren’t immune to me either,” he added playfully, and you were about to smack him in the chest, but he caught your hand, and intertwined your fingers instead.

And you let him tease you as much as he wanted, at least for now.

Next day rolled by quickly, and it was already time to leave. You couldn’t deny that you came here, hating even the idea of being in this city, let alone Leehan’s family’s hotel, but now, you were reluctant to leave because leaving meant leaving him behind.

“It’s just for the summer, Leehan,” you reminded him when he was sulking to you in the hotel lobby, but it seemed like he wasn’t convinced. He tried to make you stay for at least a few more days because he wouldn’t go back with the rest of you to Seoul, but you told him that you were invited to a few events with your family in the next week, so you had to go back. Plus, you were volunteering during the summer at the children’s ward in a local hospital, but you reassured him that you could squeeze some time in to come back to Busan.

“But still… we’ve only just begun,” he whimpered like a child, his fingers playing with yours as you were standing face-to-face. Even yesterday, he could barely let go of you when he walked you back to your room, and today, he was being clingy, too. No wonder the whole class knew by now that you two were together.

“You know, there’s this thing called technology. We can text, videochat, whatever you want.”

“But it won’t be the same as seeing my pretty girlfriend in person,” he protested with an all too cute pout, and even though you should have been prepared for compliments like this from him, you weren’t.

Yechan walked by you with an audible cough, followed by Ricky and Gyuvin. Gyuvin’s eyes widened comically when he saw Leehan’s fingers holding onto yours, and he turned to his friends, asking since when you two were a thing.

“Dude… you’re like three years behind,” Yechan snickered into his hands, watching Gyuvin’s meme-like surprised face with amusement. Ricky just looked at him, probably wondering how they ended up becoming friends.

“Wait! Have they been together all these years?”

You couldn’t help a laughter bubbling up in your chest as the three of them walked out of the hotel. There were a few girls afterwards who giggled when they saw you two so close to each other, but no one said anything hurtful. Maybe they indeed knew all along.

“I really gotta go now. You know, since my vice-president won’t be with me, I’ll have to do the attendance check alone.”

“Since when was I ‘your’ vice-president, hmm?” Leehan asked with a smirk, leaning closer to you to watch your face crumble from up-close, then flush, dressing your cheeks in a ruby-red cover.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, you did.”

“I didn’t, you heard it wrong.”

“I heard it very clearly, you called me your vice-president, and I-”

Whatever Leehan was about to say was muffled by the kiss you planted on his left cheek in an attempt to shut him up and leave the topic as it is. However, the boy completely froze, and he only managed to pull himself together when you eventually walked away from him to get on the tour bus.

Then, he was in full-on puppy mode, waving at the bus with his toothy smile, his eyes turning to little crescents again. Your favourite sight, you decided right then and there.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

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an architect's reality

(ib: writing on the wall)

MY HEART RETURNS

summary. your love is pursuing his dreams as a violinmaker in italy, leaving you to wait for his return. genre. slight angst. fluff. based on whisper of the heart. warnings. some crying. reader feels lost and alone and like she's not good enough :( not proofread. pairing. zhanghao x fem!reader. wc. 1.3k. request. no. a/n. tiánxīn = sweetheart btw. ofc hao is already perfect for the role of seiji cause he plays violin (also he looks like seiji fight me). for all the other writers out there (even tho i don't ever plan to get properly published) we all relate to shizuku so much :') her struggles are so relatable and i just love whisper of the heart so much i think its such a beautiful and underrated ghibli movie. divider by @/aquazero.

The night air nipped at your cheeks as thoughts swirled in your head. Hundreds of worries, feelings, and uncertainties followed you wherever you went, and all you could wish was to be back in high school when everything felt a bit easier. Back with Hao to occupy all your thoughts and in turn take your mind off of everything.

Sometimes you wondered if waiting was really worth it. You were doing your best to pursue your dreams, do well in your final year of university, and throw yourself and your work at different publishers, hoping that one liked you enough to give you a chance. But you felt like a constant failure in comparison to your boyfriend. You’d always thought opportunities were more beneficial than school. Hao only seemed to prove that to you.

He was working in Italy, getting valuable skills from the masters. You were still stuck in your hometown, going to the same university everyone else in your family had gone to, trapped in the same system. You wanted to get out, prove yourself, do something meaningful with your life. But did you even have the talent to? Were you even worth it?

On nights where your thoughts just wouldn’t leave you alone, you grabbed a handful of Hao’s letters and walked up the hill back to the spot where you used to watch the sunrise with him. You missed him more than anything. Without his presence, you felt lost. There was no one to ground you, no one to reassure you, no one to believe in your flimsy dreams.

You hadn’t received a new letter in a while, and you were starting to wonder if it was a post issue, or if Hao was too busy to write. You hoped you would get one soon. It was the start of Winter already, and a breeze blew past you, causing a chill to run up your spine. You hugged Hao’s old jacket closer on your body. It must be even colder in Italy…

You slid one of the old letters out from its envelope. You were always careful to keep everything intact. From the colourful wax seals to the elegantly written address, to the coarse texture of the fancy paper, everything about it was precious to you. Hao was always meticulous, and his presence could be felt from every detail of the card.

Tiánxīn, how are things back at home? Lonely. 

How is your writing? Did you finish the last 3 chapters you were struggling to write? I finished the final draft last Saturday. Are you proud of me?

I’m doing well here, although I never stop missing you. At least one feeling is mutual. 

It’s the beginning of Spring as I write this, and the flowers are starting to bloom. Every pink bud reminds me of you. How are you always so romantic, Zhang Hao?

I taught some kids how to hold a violin properly the other day— one of them almost dropped it. I swear my life flashed before my eyes. If they had broken it, I could’ve gotten kicked out. They don’t know that they’re handling a piece of wood worth thousands of dollars. As much as it scared me in the moment, spending time with the kids cheered me up. Childhood innocence is an endearing thing, don’t you think? It is. Is it bad that I wished you had gotten kicked out just so I could see you sooner? I want you to tell me everything about Italy with your own voice.

I’m starting to find beauty in things that used to annoy me. It’s a strange feeling, but I think I could get used to it. The flowers used to only make me sneeze, but now they’re a gentle reminder of who I’m living every day for. Children used to get on my nerves, but now I can only think of your baby pictures. I keep working hard every day hoping that I’ll get a break to come visit soon. I’ve been saving up for tickets. Hopefully before Winter, I’ll be back in your arms. It’s Winter now… I miss your arms around me.

Ever yours,

Hao

You could only sigh and blink back the tears that had formed on your waterline. Why did he make you miss him so much? You sniffed, from the emotions and from the cold. It was getting even later in the night, and while you didn’t want to leave your special spot, you also needed sleep.

When you got back to your cheap apartment, you sprayed some of Hao’s perfume on your pillow and changed into pyjamas. It was funny how much time went into hunting for the exact fragrance he wore; but you had been thankful for it every single day since you bought it. Any way you could to bring traces of him back to your home was worth it. You fell asleep hugging the pillow tightly and hoping that he would grace you in your dreams. 

A soft puff of air hit your nose making you scrunch it up. It woke you out of your slumber, but not enough to open your eyes yet. You were in a confused bleary state trying to figure out where it came from. You definitely didn’t leave the fan on in the middle of Winter, so why…?

“Tiánxīn, wake up.” 

You blinked your eyes open slowly, furrowing your eyebrows as the view came into focus. Light from the morning sun shone through the window, cascading down until it hit the side of a face. Hao’s face.

“Am I still dreaming?” You whispered. A lump formed in your throat at the thought that you were— you must be. How could he be right in front of you? He was still far away in Italy.

He shook his head, a smile splayed on his lips. He moved closer, his weight dipping down on the bed. You could only stare, memorising everything about him. His eyelashes fluttered as his gaze dropped to your hand and he reached to hold it. His hands were warm and the skin of his palm was soft, although his fingertips were roughened by calluses after years of playing strings. He cupped your cheek with his other hand, brushing his thumb against your skin.

“I missed you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to come visit.” He frowned slightly as he saw tears start to build in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, as if still deciphering whether he was actually real. It had truly been years since he had first gone for his apprenticeship and then got accepted full time to make violins and teach. Although you had communicated through letters, it could never compare to being with him like this. 

“It’s okay.” You tried to steady your voice, force the lump in your throat down, blink back the tears. But you couldn’t with him right there.

“Don’t cry.” He wiped your tears carefully, his touch soft as always.

“Kiss me. Please?” 

And he obliged. He would always do anything within his power to see you happy. If you told him one day to fly to the moon and bring you back a piece of it, he was sure he would find a way, just to see you smile. The feeling of kissing him again was indescribable. You’d forgotten how it felt to be kissed by his soft lips, how they melded with yours like a dream. As if you two were meant to be.

You knew you always were. Your love story, although it sometimes felt tragic, was like something out of a fairytale. You would never forget the lengths Hao went just to get your attention. How ambitious, determined, and caring he was. He was your constant motivation to keep striving to be better. 

It was hard to live for your dream while being so far apart from him. Part of you knew that he would have to go back. Maybe in a month, maybe in only a week. Maybe sooner than that. Your heart would break once again saying goodbye to him.

But, for now, as he kissed you in the morning sunlight on your bed, you felt your heart healing from his touch. The long years away from him were a small price to pay for moments as precious as these. 

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mine for the summer

Characters: Leehan & female reader

Setting & genre: coming of age, summer romance, angst and fluff (it has a happy end!)

Summary: Busan is your hideout, your runaway place, your freedom bought on stolen time. Leehan is your first love, your safe place, your everything. At least, for the summer.

Warnings: stage name used, OC is coming out of a burnout in the beginning and she has a relapse, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, past hospitalization, emotionally distant parents, parental pressure on academics

Words: 9.4k

Author’s note: title from One Direction’s Summer Love. here is the Romeo + Juliet movie scene that gets mentioned

turns out i cannot not write an at least bit of an angsty story for your bday but i do sincerely hope you have a very happy one, @restlessmaknae <3 also of course you would start singing this song in july to give me a heart attack right before i accidentally told you i’m writing about Leehan

The humidity of air sticks to you like second skin, sweat glistening on your nape where your hair gets tangled in the summer heat. With closed eyes and the tickling feeling of sand under your bare feet, you listen to the ocean waves washing up the beach and children giggling. You take a deep breath of air filled with salt and fish and oil, something so uniquely Busan that you feel like fourteen again.

It’s been years since you had come to visit. Excuses were easy to find: too busy, too far; reasons were much harder.

But now you’re here and you realize that you missed it. The quiet serenity of being hidden away in the part of town that’s far from the busy skyscraper downtown and the overwhelming tourist traps. You remember spending summers running down these sandy beaches and playing in the water, mouth sticky with fruit and palms scratched with falls and youth. Then you turned older and got bored of the quiet neighborhood, the ocean losing its significance after seeing it too many times, eventually you stopped coming altogether. Now you are even older but still young, barely out of school, the CSAT exams still haunting your dreams. You’re just twenty but sometimes that age feels like it bears the weight of the world. Your world at least.

You open your eyes and squint right away at the brightness of the Sun and feel its burning heat on your bare shoulders only cooled by some nice breeze. The air might smell like salt, fish and oil but it tastes like freedom.

You take one more deep breath, willing yourself not to think of your mother’s disappointed words about your behavior nor her disapproval of you coming here, and push yourself up. You grab your discarded sandals and head back. Your grandparents must be worried already. In their eyes you are still fourteen, forever a child.

And they might be right because not even halfway down the beach, you abruptly halt and hiss, pain shooting into your feet and your carmine blood drips onto the golden sand. Balancing yourself on one leg, you check on the wound, a cut on the softest flesh part of your feet and the culprit, a broken shell in the sand. Clumsily you take your water bottle from your bag to clean the blood off, your skin still sensitive around the fresh wound. You debate whether you should tiptoe the rest of the way or clean your footwear off sand and dirt as much as you can but before you could decide, a stranger approaches you with worriedly furrowed brows.

“Are you okay?” He asks in a deep voice but you don’t pay too much attention to him, too busy to figure out what to do with your injury.

“Yeah, it’s just a small cut,” you brush his worry off, expecting him to walk away or maybe to give you directions to the closest pharmacy but he does neither.

“Here. Hold onto me,” the stranger offers his arm which you reluctantly but take because your balancing skills honestly aren’t the best. Then you can do nothing but stare as the boy around your age suddenly pulls out a plaster from his shorts’ pocket and leans down to inspect your wound. It’s a bit awkward, having a stranger look at your feet, so your fingers curl inside themselves around his arm. The boy is gentle, barely touching your skin as he applies the plaster and once he’s done, he straightens, looking down at you with sparkling, shiny eyes.

The first thing you notice about him other than his height and the low register of voice is actually his eyes, how pretty and expressive they are. The second thing is the way the wind blows his longer, almond colored fringe into his eyes. Your fingers twitch to brush it away just to find out if they are as soft as they look.

Then you realize that you’re staring, so you quickly look away, down at your feet that now has a cute seahorse patterned plaster on it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, a bit dumbfounded but amused at the same time. “Do you just carry around plasters everywhere?” You blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind as you lower your leg, still feeling a bit sensitive but much better.

“I can be a bit clumsy at times. And too curious for my own good or so I have been told,” the boy shrugs with a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m Leehan by the way.”

“I’m…”

“Y/N-ah! There you are,” your grandmother’s voice cuts off your introduction and like a kid caught doing something you shouldn’t have, you take a step backwards, away from the boy, on instinct.

“I have to go,” you look at the stranger, Leehan, one last time apologetically. “Thanks again.”

“Take care,” the boy smiles warmly and waves, the movement cute just like the animal print plaster he had on him.

You limp all the way towards your grandma who stands there with her hands on her hips, ready to scold but you hush her and tell her it’s nothing serious, that you are okay. Still you listen to her tsk-ing and nagging as you walk back inside the house but once she seems to run out of everything she could have said about it, she changes the topic swiftly.

“You barely got here and you are already snatching boys?”

“If by snatching you mean embarrassing myself in front of them, then sure,” you try to softly tone down your grandma’s enthusiasm but she keeps chattering despite the sarcasm in your answer.

“Leehan is a sweet boy, always helping when he sees me with lots of groceries. He lives in the neighborhood with his family and I think he graduated high school last year, so you must be the same age.”

You hate how hopeful she sounds because you didn’t come here to befriend people. When you called asking if you could spend the summer here like you used to, except this time you would help them out, your grandma was happy to take you in but worried too that you would be lonely or bored alone with ‘only them old folks’ but honestly, you craved a little peace and alone time. That’s why you needed to get out of Seoul too, away from its people. From all its memories.

So you just make a noncommittal hum and escape to the kitchen to help your grandpa with the scallion pancakes for dinner.

“What’s your grandmother fussing about?” He asks, pushing the glasses further up his nose.

“Nothing, I just stepped on a broken shell,” you shrug and get three plates from the shelves and kimchi from the fridge.

“Typical. I heard about it for weeks when I accidentally cut my finger one time,” he recited and you smiled, feeling loved and cared for. At home.

The market is stuffy, different smells of sea animals, fried food, fresh fruit and detergent mixing with the sounds of vendors arguing and negotiating over the static sound of music coming from an old radio. It’s busy but different type of busy compared to the crowded metro coaches. It’s lively here and while you had studied your ass off for the promise of a future corporate job, here you are packaging tteokbokki for takeaway, always adding extra because that’s a given for regulars. Not that you think it’s below you, you love the food stall aunties and uncles very much, but you would have never imagined yourself sweating next to a spicy boiling broth in the heat of summer. Maybe it had something to do with the way your mother talked about her parents’ job so derogatorily, always telling you that you’re only somebody if you’re well educated and a career woman. Maybe that’s why she was so against you coming here. Because it was a place she had run  away from.

You’re in the middle of chopping scallions in the back when you hear a cheerful call of Ahjumma! and your grandma perks up more than usual.

“Leehan-ah, are you going down to the beach?” She asks and you feel the back of your neck heat up but you blame it on the Sun. It has been days since the shell incident but the embarrassment still creeps on you. You hope the boy won’t notice you or at least not say anything about it.

“Later. First I have some errands to run,” Leehan says and your granny coos, probably patting his cheek too, calling him a good boy. Then casually while she is stirring the tteok in the pot, she suddenly changes the topic.

“If you have some free time, could you show our Y/N around? She doesn't really go out on her own.”

“Grandma!” You turn around, sulky at the callout. A mistake because you can clearly see the boy failing to hide his amused smile.

“Sure. If she can keep up,” he raises a brow elegantly at you which immediately makes you defensive.

“Are you calling me short?” You straighten up without meaning to because come on, you aren’t that much shorter!

“I’m asking if your foot is alright.” Leehan corrects your assumption with a know-it-all smile plastered on his face but he still manages to pull it off in a genuine way with a hint of worry. It makes you feel flustered for a moment.

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” you clear your throat and clean your hands in a rag cloth nearby.

“I’m just going to the post office, I’m free after that,” the boy says, looking straight at you from under his longer fringe, over your grandma’s shoulder.

“Great. Go have fun!” The old lady exclaims, turning and walking up to you, untying your apron faster than you would expect from somebody her age.

“Grandma, I’m not leaving you alone,” you protest but it’s no use. She tsks and shakes her head as if she couldn’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Please, we were doing fine before too. I can just get your grandpa to stop playing mahjong with the neighbors if more people come,” she brushes off your worries easily and basically pushes you out of the food stall’s kitchen area. You’re just about to complain about your bag when she shoves it towards your chest and all you can do is stare at her, shocked but you can’t really say anything when she smiles so sweetly and wishes that you have a good time.

Eventually, you’re the one to give up. It’s not like you could make her let you work against her wishes and she seems very keen on making sure that you go out and get friends while you’re here. It was difficult to convince her to let you help out at the shop at all to pay back in a way for their hospitality no matter how much they told you that they would be happy just to have you over the summer.

It’s only when you’re a little further as you follow Leehan through the market, when you speak up.

“You know, you don’t have to do what my grandmother asks you. I can be on my own just fine,” you mutter, not wanting him to think you’re some child that needs a babysitter. Just because you like to stay in your room, it doesn’t mean you would get lost if you set a foot outside.

“I’m sure, don’t worry. But it’s no bother. I like to be an advocate for the city,” the boy grins at you and as if on cue, an auntie greets him and insists on giving him a bag of peaches. Leehan asks about her grandchildren and compliments her harvest. He charms everybody effortlessly, a real sweet talker but he doesn’t seem fake about it at all and it’s kind of lovely, just like his fish themed plasters.

With people constantly greeting him, it takes way longer to get to the post office than it should have but at least you can laugh when he loses paper, rock, scissors against a nine year old kid and is bullied into trying something really spicy. You try to hide your smile while the little kid is unabashed about his reaction when Leehan grimaces at the hot spices, finding his disgusted nose scrunch hilarious. In apology, you buy him iced green tea at the next stall you see and he smiles at you brightly like the Sun.

Once Leehan is done at the post office, you expect it to get awkward but it’s him who breaks the silence as you stand in the shade, sweat dripping down your back in the moonsoon season’s humidity.

“So… you’re here for the summer?”

“Hm. I missed the sea,” you hum quietly, keeping your eyes on the bright horizon and the shimmering line of water in the distance.

It isn’t entirely a lie but not the whole truth either. Being so burned out after high school that you got a panic attack at the thought of going to university, so you had to postpone a semester and the disappointment it caused to your parents certainly isn’t something you want to dump on a practically stranger. But even if Leehan has a feeling that you’re not 100% sincere, he doesn’t push, which is something you appreciate.

“Well, then you came to the right place. Not to be biased but Busan has the prettiest beaches.”

“Prettier than Jeju?” You tease just for the sake of it and it makes the boy chuckle.

“Of course! Come on, I will show you my favorite place,” he tilts his head, a clear invitation and you give in because you don’t have anything better to do anyway.

The Sun is still high up on the sky, white clouds clear against the blue of it. You’re fanning yourself but it doesn’t help much. Leehan however doesn’t seem bothered by the heat, so you find yourself asking:

“Did you grow up here?”

“Born and raised,” he nods with a proud smile which isn’t that surprising because he has that more laidback way of talking that locals around here have. At least he’s not talking as fast as the neighbor ahjussi whom you have trouble understanding. “You have a Seoul dialect though.”

“That’s the standard way of speaking, just saying,” you roll your eyes at him calling the way you speak a dialect which makes him laugh. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

It’s silly arguing over something like this but it’s actually fun, you find yourself smiling without meaning to. Something that has come harder lately. So you end up answering the boy’s unasked question about your upbringing. You tell him about growing up among metal skyscrapers, the Han River and Seoul Forest being your escape, only spending your summers in Busan, your mother’s hometown until you were fourteen. Leehan listens and asks random questions like whether you have ever been to the COEX Aquarium or if you ever wanted to be a mermaid as a little girl. It’s surprisingly easy to talk with him, to open up. Maybe it’s because you know he doesn’t know you well enough to judge or even if he did, it doesn’t matter much because you would leave at the end of the summer anyways.

In the meantime you reach the sea and walk along the shore farther from the crowded beach and bay areas. When you come across a bunch of larger rocks, Leehan climbs onto the top easily and holds out a hand for you to help you up too. Tentatively but you take up on his offer and let him pull you up on the slightly slippery rock. He doesn’t let go until you land on stable ground on the other side. There are smaller rocks and pebble stones splattered across the sand there stretching from the clean turquoise blue waters to a cave overshadowed by greenery. It’s beautiful and you can’t believe you’re the only ones here.

“How did you find this place?” You ask in awe, wandering farther ahead. Even the sand is cooler here from the trees’ shade.

“Honestly, I don’t go out a lot either. I just like to go down to the beach and be, you know. So I have been looking for a place where I can chill and well, I had years,” the boy says with a hidden smile in the corner of his mouth as your grandmother’s words about your hermit behavior echoes in your ears.

Of course, you know that she means well and that she’s a social butterfly, so it’s weird for her that you are not that outgoing at your age. Or maybe she has heard from your mother of those weeks where you refused to leave your room let alone the house. Things had been bad then, now you’re getting better. You have come all the way to Busan after all. Was it to run away from your problems? Maybe, but also you hoped that not being in an environment that reminded you of your failures would help.

“Do you always bring girls here?” You ask, more playful than anything as you balance between two rocks, looking back at Leehan over your shoulder. You can hear him snort and catch the way he scratches the back of his neck.

“Not really,” he admits sheepishly. “Just the special ones,” he adds with a mischievous smirk on his face. Tsk, what a flirt, you shake your head in disbelief but amused.

“Aren’t you afraid that I will ruin your chill time here?” You ask as you settle onto a place in the shades, closing your eyes as you enjoy the cool breeze against your sweaty shoulders.

“Not really,” comes the answer closer than you expected as Leehan settles on the ground not far from you. You squint your eyes open to see his expression but he’s only looking at the sea fondly.

You don’t talk much afterwards, just sharing bits and bobs of your lives, little anecdotes. Leehan eventually offers to walk you home when it gets close to dinner time. You could easily find your way with Naver Maps but you let him anyway and try to keep up with his recommendations of Busan places to check out; you probably forget half of them though. You don’t exchange contacts, it somehow doesn’t even occur to you because you’re pretty sure you will run into each other one way or another. It’s all nice and cozy. Something you could get used to.

Even though you expected to meet Leehan, you didn’t think it would be so soon. But trust your grandma to play the matchmaker despite your firm reminder that you didn’t come to stay with them over the summer to get a boyfriend.

Still, you should have known better when you agreed to get cat food at the local pet store in lieu of one of your grandmother’s friends. You feared she would have gone herself and carried it all if you weren’t going and at that point you were just happy if she let you do anything yourself because you felt like a spoiled guest at her house. But of course, she had ulterior motives, you realize when behind the store’s counter, there’s none other than Leehan with his pretty smile and soft-looking hair.

“Are you stalking me?” He grins when he spots you after the jingling sound of the door chime signals your arrival, one side of his mouth curling more upwards then the other, the asymmetry of it making him even more handsome.

“Blame my grandma. She sent me here on an errand.”

You are quick to give him your excuse but it only makes the boy pout slightly and you can’t tell whether he’s faking it or he’s actually disappointed.

“I thought you missed my wonderful company,” he puts a hand over his heart and ah, that’s definitely over exaggerated.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” you deadpan as you walk up to the counter and pull out your phone to get the list of things you should buy.

You show the pet food brands and quantities to the boy and while he’s off to get them from the back, you look around in the shop. There are all sorts of cat and dog supplies but further in the back you see tanks and you swear you see movement in some, so your curiosity brings the worst out of you and you wander closer, smiling upon seeing the blue and golden fish in various prettily decorated glass boxes. You’re so busy looking inside the tanks that you get startled when Leehan speaks up from behind you.

“Do you like fish?”

“Oh… actually, I have wanted a fish tank at home ever since I saw Romeo + Juliet,” you admit as you turn to face the boy. He furrows his brows in confusion and you somehow feel urged to explain it in more detail. “It’s an adaptation from the 90s. In this version, Romeo and Juliet saw each other first through a fish tank at the ball. I just thought it’s… romantic,” you cut yourself off when you realise your’re rambling about embarrassing girly things and clear your throat. “Anyways, my parents obviously didn’t let me have one.”

“That’s cute,” Leehan says, his smile half-teasing, half-sincere and you feel heat coloring your cheeks. How can he just say things like that? “I have one at home.”

He adds casually but you immediately perk up.

“Really? Do you have pictures of it?” You can’t help but inquire and luckily the boy doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he seems pretty excited that he’s able to talk about his fish. He keeps showing you pictures of different states of the fish tank and what kind of fish he had before and what else he wants to get one day. He also tells you that this is his go-to place when it comes to buying fish supplies and it’s pretty cool that the owner lets him work here part-time over the summer. You are so distracted that the next customer has to come to the back looking for the cashier which is a bit awkward but you both laugh about it.

You shuffle around in the back while the customer gets the new leash for his dog and when he leaves, you go to the checkout counter too to pay for the cat food. You already stayed longer than you intended to do, so you do a little ‘hwaiting’ gesture at Leehan as a goodbye but his words stop you before you could leave.

“Would you like to go to the aquarium this weekend?” He asks and you swear you can hear the nervousness in his tone despite the smooth, casual delivery or his confident front.

“Sure, why not?” You try to play it cool too and eventually you agree to meet in front of the place on Saturday, so you leave the pet shop not only with cat food but weekend plans too and a smile on your face.

It’s an understatement to say that your grandma is over the moon when you tell them that you will be out Saturday because you made plans with Leehan. Your grandpa asks though if he needs to talk with ‘this young man about his intentions’ and you protest vehemently. It’s not even a date after all, because it isn’t, right? You’re just hanging out. Your granny waves her hand and chuckles at the interaction.

“Let them be. We were young once too,” she says in that voice she always has when she gets nostalgic. You listen to her stories about her youth even if you have heard them dozens of times before because your grandma had such an eventful life. No wonder she always encourages you to ‘live a little’ and follow your heart. That’s how you don’t regret life looking back, she says.

So that’s what you are doing when Saturday comes and you get ready to go out. The loose-fitting white dress feels light against your skin and with a sudden wave of enthusiasm, you reach for your barely used eyeshadow palette. Today you feel like doing something special, like putting on silver, glittery makeup. You feel good when you look into the mirror but then you start second guessing it. Isn’t it too much for a simple hangout?

Too late, you realize because you’re already short on time to make it to the aquarium by the agreed time, so you brush off your worries. By some miracle you manage to catch the bus, trying not to think about your outfit or makeup being too much, too… date-y.

When you arrive at the entrance, Leehan is already there, his tall figure striking even from a distance, especially in the jeans and tucked-in, light blue shirt combo he wears. He stands by one of the pillars, scrolling through his phone but pockets it right away when he sees you.

“Hey… You look pretty,” he blurts out, faint rosiness coloring his cheeks and it makes you feel shy too. Your previous thoughts about taking this dressing up too far cease to exist.

“Thanks. You look good too,” you say because it’s true, but he always looks nice. Even in the bermuda shorts he wears to the beach or the pet store uniform t-shirt. Maybe it’s because of his slender figure or his prince-like features or just overall the casual confidence he holds himself with.

“Thanks,” Leehan mutters and looks away. It’s quite a different reaction from what he shows when ahjummas on the market pinch his cheeks and call him handsome. “Let’s go in.”

Inside it’s like a hidden Atlantis. You are surrounded by lovey-dovey couples walking hand-in-hand and families with kids running around. The blue hue of water is casted over everything and Leehan’s eyes sparkle in the dim light as he tells you about things he learned from documentaries about the deep sea or at university. It turns out he’s studying oceanology at Korean Maritime and Ocean University there in Busan which is pretty cool, something that suits him. When he asks about your side, unknowing to the turmoil inside you when it comes to your studies, you don’t tell him about the stress you have been under just to get into a SKY university. You don’t tell him about your messed up sleeping and eating schedules, the IV drops at hospitals, the anxiety and panic attacks nor the result of it all. You just shrug and tell him that you got into a good uni with a business management major, but it’s not really what you want to do. He doesn’t ask why you did it then or why you don’t change it. Instead he looks at you with a smile under the penguins’ majestic aquarium and asks:

“If nothing else mattered, what would you want to do then?”

You give it a thought because you didn’t quite have the luxury to think about what you really wanted before. It was always about what your parents wanted you to do. Until you decided to pack your things and come down to this beach town.

“Staying here forever,” you eventually respond and it sounds like an exaggeration, so you chuckle to soften the confession’s rough edges. Even if Leehan doesn’t know you well enough (yet) to understand the longing in those words, your yearning for the taste of freedom and the warmth of a home where you are waited for,che seems to understand. He just smiles wider and proceeds to tell about the crazy lifespan of some turtle species. It’s good, your tensed shoulders relax again as you follow him to the next section.

After you have thoroughly seen everything at the aquarium, you find a place nearby to eat at, then walk down the closeby popular Haeundae beach. It’s not as pretty as the one next to the lagoon Leehan showed you the other day and there are more people here than you would have preferred but it’s okay. You never seem to run out of topics, lighthearted ones, yet even silence is comfortable with Leehan.

“See you tomorrow at the beach?” You ask in lieu of saying goodbye on your way back. Your fingers are intertwined behind your back just to do something with them because they are sweaty and soiled with sand from the impromptu sand castle building you came up with under the last unforgiving rays of the Sun.

“Don’t miss me too much until then,” Leehan says with a corny smile playing on his lips instead of saying yes but you just laugh and let him be.

You ignore your grandma’s knowing glare from the living room as you run up the stairs two at a time, your white dress floating behind you like flower petals in the wind.

On Sunday you meet on the beach and stay out until the Sun disappears behind the horizon. Next week you help Leehan choose a new decoration for his fish tank and spend two hours in the pet store listening to him talk about the difference between algae types and the importance of filters and sub-filters. On Friday your grandparents are at the hospital for their usual check up, so you’re on your own in the food stall. Leehan comes around to keep you entertained but he ends up helping out when a bigger group appears. Sweet of him but you find out the hard way that he has shitty sense when it comes to spice, especially salt, measurements.

The week after, you run into each other in your local Olive Young while you’re getting a new nail polish color and he has a bottle of shampoo in his basket. You end up leaving with a new glittery eyeshadow palette too because the boy drops a comment that it would look pretty on you. You put it on together with the baby pink nail polish you just bought when you go to the outdoor screening of a Korean classic on the beach. Under fairy lights and the fluorescent reflections of the movie in Leehan’s sparkling eyes, you feel a rush of something selfish, a longing so deep it cuts and you have to look away before it becomes obvious.

You don’t talk about it, whether these are dates or not. Because talking about it would make it real. It would make it scary, because then you would have something to lose when the summer ends. It’s fragile but it’s yours and it’s enough, you tell yourself.

One of these days it rains. The kind of sudden summer downpour that feels way too nice on your heated skin in the humid, hot weather. It catches you in the middle of eating ice cream with Leehan and you can’t help but yelp when the first cold raindrops touch your bare shoulder. You both get up quickly and run for cover ice cream long forgotten but the rain just pours and pours and both of you are drenched by the time you reach the nearby cave.

You look up at Leehan from under your wet eyelashes, shivering slightly and burst out laughing at the sight of his hair sticking to his face weirdly like a soaked puppy. You know you don’t look any better because you feel your hair weight over your shoulders like a rag. You try your best to tie it up, out of your eyes but Leehan is still staring.

“What?” You ask, self-conscious and shy under his intense stare. Then you are holding your breath because the boy lifts his right hand and touches your face. His touch burns and leaves goosebumps in its wake as he brushes another lock of hair behind your ear.

The rain is loud around you but it all sounds saturated right there, at the entrance of the small cave just by the beach. You tremble, not from the cold but something akin to anticipation.

Leehan’s gaze meets your eyes. There’s softness and wonder in the depth of his brown orbs. You take a shaky breath as he runs his fingers down the expanse of your bare arm until he finds your hand and then he chuckles and pulls you out into the pouring rain.

“Yah!” You scream at him but you laugh too, a childish feeling bubbling up in your chest.

You chase each other around on the beach. The sand is wet under your feet and the sea is cold when you end up knees deep, splashing water at each other as if you could be even more soaked. Your laughters echo in the cave and you feel the most alive in a while.

You still laugh about it when the next day you wake up with a cold and sore throat.

The push and pull between you is like the waves washing up the shore. There has to be a breaking point when it spills over. It happens in Leehan’s room when he finally shows you his fish family in person after chatting your ears off about them. The tank is bigger than you expected and it’s really nicely decorated, it’s clear that the boy put a lot of effort into it and you appreciate all the details. You’re too busy watching in awe as the tetras and shrimps swim around to notice the boy on the other side of the water wall until you catch his eyes on you. You blink in surprise and think that it’s unfair how handsome he looks even through two layers of glass and filtered water. Bashful, you straighten up at once and Leehan does the same on the other side.

“Was it like this? In the movie?” He asks, curiosity coloring his deep voice and your breath hitches because he remembers! It was something small you mentioned to him the second time you met and yet, he didn’t forget.

“Something like this,” you nod, still bewildered and breathing shallowly as the boy edges closer, leaning over the fish tank.

“What happens after?” Leehan’s voice is barely above a whisper as his gaze searches your face. Your fingers tremble, so you press them against the countertop for balance.

“Why do I have a feeling that you know?” You lower your voice too as if it was a secret and the thought of him looking up the movie just because you told him about it makes you feel mushy inside.

Leehan giggles and it's music to your ears, a beautiful sound. 

Your eyes flutter closed when his lips graze against yours. It’s chaste and clumsy but his kiss tastes sweet like cherry lip balm and summer. You never want to forget this feeling.

What starts with a kiss between four walls ends up spilling all over the pages of your summer. It’s in the way you share looks and secret smiles over your grandmother’s shoulder, the way he holds your hand as you walk down the beach or the way every accidental touch sets your skin on fire. The way you talk on the phone until late on days when you can’t meet or how he notices the faintest burn mark on your fingertip from cooking and presses a kiss on it to ‘help it heal’. It's shared packs of gummies, sea-washed hearts drawn into sand, blush on cheeks and a secret held close to your heart. You still don’t talk about the future, about what it means even though you know you should. You should tell Leehan that it’s bound to end in heartbreak because you will leave eventually but for once you let yourself be selfish and pretend that you have all the time in the world. Or at least pretend that you have him.

It’s been almost two months since you have been in Busan and you have felt better than ever. No pressure on your chest anymore when you wake up, no breaking out in sweat when you see the calendar counting down days, no lack of motivation to go outside. However, one thing is enough to crash it all down. One simple thing.

You stare at your ringing, buzzing phone as if you could will it to stop just by looking at it hard enough. Your mother’s name on the screen is enough to make your stomach twist uncomfortably and you bite into your inside cheek so hard you taste iron as you swipe the call towards the green direction.

“Y/N,” your mother calls your name like a greeting. You hold your breath back, wondering if she will tell you that they missed you since you haven’t talked with them since you have left but you should have known not to get your hopes up.

“Did you decide on the next semester?” She asks, straight to the point as if that’s the only thing they care about. Maybe it is.

“No,” you mumble and you want to make yourself smaller when you hear your mother’s disappointed sigh. It’s bringing back ugly memories. The realization that their love is conditional hits you hard again.

“When are you coming back then? It’s been enough of a vacation already,” she says dismissively and you know too well that she doesn’t ask because she wants you back out of caring but because then she would have more leverage over you.

“I’m staying for the rest of summer,” you force yourself to remind her because no matter how guilty and ungrateful she makes you feel, you remember how hard it was to leave, to go against her in the first place, so you don’t want to go back, not until you are sure she cannot emotionally manipulate you into doing something you don’t want.

“What a waste of time. You should at least sign up for a language course–”

“I have to go. Sorry,” you hang up the call and only when you drop the phone onto the bed’s mattress you realize that you’re trembling. It’s when the tears are starting to sting your eyes. Your phone rings again, your mother’s contact haunting you like a ghost, so you switch the phone off entirely. You refuse to cry but the ugly sobs bubble up nevertheless and it’s all coming back.

It’s day three of shutting yourself in your room and not talking with everybody. You feel useless and stuck, just like the disappointment your mother thinks you are. When there’s a knock on your door, you think it’s your grandmother coming for the breakfast tray, so unsuspecting, you open it. You immediately wish you didn’t because in front of you stands Leehan with worry clear on his face. Or is it pity? In this mindset, it’s hard to tell.

“Your grandmother let me in. I couldn’t reach you,” The boy rushes to speak up, his voice stained with something heavy. “Are you… What’s wrong?” He corrects himself probably realizing that asking if you are okay would be a stupid question when you clearly aren’t.

“You should leave,” you croak out, your voice hoarse from disuse.

“Y/N, don’t,” Leehan pleads with sad eyes that beg to don’t push me away, don’t shut me out but you’re too used to dealing with things alone. “You don’t have to tell me but let me be here for you.”

It’s the gentleness in his request that makes you stall. He doesn’t force you to do anything, he just asks like he wants to be there. Like he doesn’t care that you look shitty and ignored him for days. You don’t deserve his kindness.

“Let me shower first,” you look away before opening your door wider to your curtained and stuffy room.

You open the window and grab some homey clothes from the gardrobe because you don’t want to stay in your pajamas next to the boy. Then you close yourself inside the bathroom, taking a too cold shower but by the end of it you actually feel a bit more like yourself. You walk back to your room in the new, clean clothes and wet hair, not ready to look Leehan in the eye, so you’re relieved when he doesn’t make you do that either. He just gently takes the towel from your hands and sits down behind you on the bed, massaging the soft material into your head. You let out a little choked up sound at the feeling of being cared for. You close your eyes to will yourself not to cry and Leehan doesn’t say anything, he just keeps drying your hair gently.

“My mother called,” you speak up after what feels like forever and yet not long enough. The boy hums quietly, showing that he’s listening but he lets you go on at your own pace. So you tell him about the pressure to do well at the CSAT exams and to get into a SKY uni, about falling out with your best friend because of competitive studying, about starting to hate it and how it ruined your relationship with your parents.

You speak and Leehan listens, then when there are no words and your heart feels like an empty shell, he holds you close. It feels like he holds all your broken, ugly pieces together.

It doesn’t happen from one day to another but things get better. You get better again. It’s the kind of progress that you have to do yourself but having your supportive grandparents and Leehan by your side definitely helps.

The boy comes over often in the beginning because you don’t yet feel like going out and being seen by people. Your grandfather mentions something about keeping your door open at all times but after realizing that all you do is watching documentaries on your laptop, reading books with your head in Leehan’s lap while he is on his phone or braiding each others’ hair, he doesn’t say anything anymore.

It takes a while to gather courage to tell everything to your grandparents too because it’s one thing opening up to Leehan but it’s about their daughter and you’re afraid that despite letting you stay here and not caring much about your education, they would take your mother’s side. Luckily, they understand.

“You could stay, you know. Your grandfather and I would be happy to have you here,” your granny reassures you with a hand on yours, soothing.

“It’s not that simple,” you let out a quiet sob because which ungrateful child doesn’t do what their parents want after the fortune they had spent on her education? It’s just university, you can bear it for a few years, says the little voice in your head, even if you hate it, even if your perfectionist tendencies will ruin the experience for you.

“It can be that simple. I will talk with your mother,” your grandpa exclaims and you know he would do so if you don’t stop him.

“Please don’t. It’s something I have to do myself,” you say because you can’t let others fight your battles for you, because it’s a step you need to take for the freedom you crave.

It’s scary still, preparing to tell your parents something you know they won’t like nor will they hesitate to try and change your mind. 

Leehan squeezes your hand before leaving you alone to make the phone call. He doesn’t go far, you know that the farthest is the kitchen where your grandma will convince him to taste her cooking. You pace around in the room, giving yourself a pep talk, rehearsing your prepared speech a few times before hitting the call button.

It takes three rings for your mother to answer. Her voice is leveled and disinterested when she asks how you are. She doesn’t care, she only cares about what people will say about her if their A+ student daughter won’t go to university. But you won’t take her burdens on your shoulders anymore.

“I decided. I won’t start uni next semester. In fact, I will drop out,” you blurt out as quickly as possible, like ripping off a bandaid. You don’t let your voice waver no matter how nervous you feel. “Maybe one day I will attend a university but if I do, I will study something I would like to, something I'm actually interested in, not business,” you continue before your mother could interrupt you. “Thank you for supporting me through school but I’m old enough now to make my decisions, so I would rather pay you back for all that.”

Your parents are stunned to say the least. There comes a nicely wrapped threat about ‘their house, their rules’ but when that doesn’t work, they try to negotiate. They tell you that you will regret it, to think of all your wasted efforts and how lucky you are, then they want to talk in person. You say it wouldn’t change anything and telling them actually feels like a huge rock being lifted off your chest and you can finally breathe.

It becomes easier after that. The countdown stops and you can sleep properly. Summer ends and you start packing your bag. Going back to Seoul doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

You ask Leehan to meet you at the beach, your usual place, because he deserves to know. He brings fruits and jellies, an entire picnic. Your heart aches because he doesn’t know it’s goodbye. Or maybe he has a feeling since he has always had good intuitions and because this idyll was never meant to last longer than summer.

You eat and you talk while watching the waves and the clouds chase each other. Leehan tells you about the classes he has in the upcoming semester and his fish family updates. You tell him the latest anecdote about your grandparents because the atmosphere is too good to bring up you leaving so soon.

You watch the sunset together with his head on your thigh and your fingers raking through his soft hair, grazing across his reddened ears and the earring he wears. He’s illuminated by the oranges and goldens of the dying Sun and your heart shatters at the sight. He is so beautiful and you want to remember this moment forever.

When darkness settles, you take out sparklers, set them in the sand and cuddle until the last speck of light burns out, until you can see the constellations you cannot name clearly in the night sky.

“I go back to Seoul next week,” you whisper as you lie on the picnic blanket and watch the stars together. Leehan doesn’t say anything immediately and you don’t dare to turn to him. Not before you tell him why. “We will go to family therapy. It was mom’s idea but maybe it will do us good. I owe them at least this. They are trying.”

They might not be the best parents but you know that they mean well in their own way even if it’s not something you want. It’s already a big thing that they also realized that you need help to mend family ties. But that’s not the only reason why you’re leaving.

“I also need to figure out what I want to do for myself and not for others,” you admit in a small voice, barely audible.

You spent your teens working towards a goal your parents set for you and it made you miserable. You’re afraid of it happening again and that’s why you can’t stay in Busan no matter how at home you feel here. Because you know this is what your grandparents would want, because Leehan is here and it scares you that one day you will blame them for staying because you are too weak to make your own choices. So you need to decide on your own. You need to be sure you aren’t just running away from your problems.

Moments pass and the boy’s silence is unnerving. You wonder if he’s angry or if he’s sad. If anybody, you would think he understands but you cannot be sure and it’s killing you. When you turn to him, he moves too and suddenly you’re paper thin distance apart. When he pulls you against his chest, you can feel the rapid rhythm of his heart. When he speaks up, his melodic voice is shaky with unsaid emotions.

“I hope you can find what makes you happy,” he says as he strokes your back gently and it’s an i will miss you, i get it, i wish you the best all in one and tears pool up in your eyes, feeling touched and understood. You nuzzle closer, taking a deep breath full of Leehan’s signature scent of sea salt and sand and something sweet.

“I will miss you,” you whisper under the stars and they witness it as the closest thing you can manage to the confession you can’t say out loud. But it’s in your heartbeat and all your memories.

You and Leehan had all summer and it was golden. It was love even if you never said it out loud.

3 MONTHS LATER

Winter in Busan is kinder. It’s still cutting cold but not unforgiving like in Seoul. It's a roasted sweet potato smell and a stranger helping you with your big suitcase as you get off the train. One of the stores plays Christmas music while you are checking your phone to see if your driver has already arrived.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls for you and a smile blooms on your face, whipping your head towards the source of it. There he is in all his beauty, a fluffy scarf around his neck, a beanie on top of his head and his nose red.

You want to rush up to him but your suitcase is heavy and its wheel gets trapped in something, so you manage to trip and lose your balance. Luckily, Leehan is there to catch you and it’s déja vu, a reminder from the summer when you held onto him, another beginning.

“Careful,” the boy warns you with a chuckle as he lets go and looks down at you with a tender smile. You mimic his reaction, your heart getting wild in your chest that you finally see him again. “You are smiling. It’s pretty,” Leehan says in awe and you beam at him wider.

“I’m happy,” you tell him, honestly because he’s part of the reason why.

A lot has happened in the last three months since you left Busan. Family therapy wasn’t a piece of cake because admitting mistakes wasn’t your parents’ forte but it did help to salvage your relationship as a family. They stopped pushing you to choose a higher education and let you make your decisions yourself. First of those was to start tutoring high schoolers who wanted to get into a SKY university like you did. Even though you didn’t actually attend one, the admission letter was proof enough for many people and you realized you liked helping others. You also developed a teaching style that’s more compliment and reward-based than the strict hakwon style. Out of all subjects, you enjoyed teaching English the most, so when you not so accidentally came across an opening position in a language center in Busan, you applied right away.

The truth is you missed Busan. The freedom, the independence, the happiness you found here. And you missed your grandparents and Leehan the most. This time it’s not just a hideout where you come running away from your issues. This time, you come because you want to be here. It’s a home to return to.

Leehan takes your suitcase from you and walks you to the parking lot to his dad’s car. He got his license this fall for which you cheered him on all the way via texts the same way as he supported your teaching journey. You listen to the cheerful songs on the radio as he drives you to your grandparents’ house while talking about the train ride as if you haven’t been texting throughout it. It’s almost like nothing changed and yet, everything did.

“Leehan-ah,” your grandmother coos when you arrive, welcoming the boy with a warm hug.

“Hey,” you pout pseudo-sulky because shouldn’t she greet you first? Her one and only granddaughter? She should take notes from your grandpa.

“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart,” your grandma singsongs before wrapping you in her embrace too, all warm and loving. Immediately after she starts listing down your favorites that she has been cooking since morning but you shush her because you should at least pack your stuff in your room. Leehan offers to help with your luggage and the two of you go up the stairs while you hear your grandparents ‘whisper’ about when to bring out the cake. It makes you chuckle. It makes you happy.

“Actually, I bought you something, too,” Leehan speaks up, his ears as red as his nose but you aren’t sure it’s from the cold outside.

“Oh, what is it?” You ask, surprised but curious and when he nods towards your room’s door. You give him a quizzical look before pushing down the handle.

At first nothing stands out, it’s almost like how you left it months ago but then in a flash of gold you notice one striking difference. There it is, unmistakable, a fish bowl with a single goldfish and some rocks and coral decoration in it on your desk.

“It’s not exactly a fish tank you must have wanted but it’s better to start small,” Leehan explains with a smile in the corner of his mouth and you realize once again just how much he sees and understands you, he always has.

“Thank you! I love it so much!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around the boy, giggling into his chest.

You fussing over your new pet fish is interrupted by your grandma inviting you down for lunch and suddenly it’s like nothing has changed since summer. Leehan is welcomed at your table as if it’s the most natural thing and your grandpa is still teasing your grandma about making way too much food. They keep asking you about your job too as if you knew anything more than what you told them on the phone.

After lunch, you help clean the table while your grandpa keeps Leehan busy by asking him about something he saw on the internet. When your grandma sees you stealing glances, she nudges you in the side and tells you to walk him out with a knowing look which makes you roll your eyes as if you didn’t yearn for more alone time with the boy.

So here you are right at the gate, knowing full well that your grandparents are watching through the window, fidgeting with your scarf, not knowing how to say goodbye even though you will probably see him tomorrow after work. Eventually it’s Leehan who speaks up.

“Y/N,” he calls your name and it sounds so sweet from his mouth, you feel degrees warmer in the cold of winter.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to call your name. I still can’t believe you’re here,” the boy chuckles sheepishly and you realize it’s not only you who’s nervous. But maybe there’s no reason to. Now you know what you want.

“I’m here and I’m staying,” you promise and when Leehan smiles, the mole on his left cheek moves upwards and you tiptoe to peck him right on it. He has a hand on your arm as you descend down flat to your feet and his gaze is stuck on you. You’re mesmerized as you watch all his moles and acne spots and his boyish beauty that makes your heart flutter. You stand so close that you can see the snowflakes melting over his eyelashes and that’s when you notice it.

“Oh, look, it’s snowing!” You squeal with childlike wonder as you look up at the sky and try to catch the floating snowflakes on your palm.

Leehan hums quietly but his voice is playful when he asks:

“Do you know what they say about the first snow?”

You blink at his sudden question, cheeks growing pink and hot as the boy leans closer.

“You’re as smooth as ever,” you mumble, shy, because of course you know the saying about couples’ love being long-lasting if they witness the first snow together.

Your first kiss tasted sweet like cherry jellies but this one tastes like forever locked in a touch. You had the summer together but now you have all the seasons ahead of you and you can’t wait to walk them through together with Leehan.

ANTON COMBO 2024

꒰ 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ꒱ 박성호

summary : you and your husband were throwing a bbq party, and sungho has somehow convinced you he was going to grill

genre : fluff, husband!sungho x afab!reader, girldad!sungho, non-idol!au, bbqdad!au tws : kisses, language, bad bbq puns, father sungho author notes : this is zanna's fault for indulging my delusions word count : 1.3k

“hey babygrill.” 

you turned, “sungho—”

“is it hot grill summer?” he asked, a wood-handled, metal spatula clutched between his fingers. “because you’re smoking hot.” you cringed, holding back a laugh as he leaned sideways, fingers turning the dial on the front of the grill. the vein in his neck strained with the angle, making it prominent against the midday sunlight. the defined muscles of his arms flexed, and you stared like you’d never seen him before—even though you’d been married to him for two years now, dating him for three before that. you reached out, tracing the lines, feeling the heat from the grill and sun combine against his untainted-tan skin. 

“i’m going to get our daughter ready,” he ignored your touch, knowing it wasn’t anything new. he liked it though, knowing you weren’t like that before him. “myself, too.”

“sure, babe.” he replied, hovering his palm a few inches over the metal rack he had cleaned just a couple minutes ago. “go ahead. i’ve got this all under control.”

who was he really trying to convince? you thought. your husband wasn’t a master chef by any means, but when you craved late-night snacks, he was definitely the man for the job.

“are you sure,” you quizzed. “maybe don’t start until i get back?”

“my love,” he met your eyes, head still slightly hung as he adjusted the heat. his longer hair fell to the side effortlessly, cascading like a waterfall. “i’ll be fine.”

“oh no,” you laughed. “i’m worried about my house, sungho.” 

he faked being offended. “what the hell? i’m a great chef!”

“you’re great at a lot of things, baby, there’s no doubt about it, but cooking just isn’t one of them.” his fake started to become genuine, arms crossing over his broad chest. you tried hard not to stare again. “right now!” you added, “practice makes perfect! but, just wait for me to supervise. i would like for there to be a backyard to have this party in…” you kissed his shoulder. “please?” 

ultimately, you always won him over. “fine, i’ll cut up stuff for the sides instead.” you weren't sure about that either, however it’s something you’ve made him do often for you. so, it should go fine, shouldn’t it? “but, hurry, i’d like to get these burgers sizzling. you could say, the steaks are high, right now, y/n. want them to be grate for our family and friends.” 

you mentally facepalmed. when did you marry such a cheesy guy? you guess it's for the best that he became a dad after all, with these (terrible) jokes of his. 

you left him to attend to the vegetables for the burgers, finding your daughter in front of a fan on the couch, basking in the air that blew directly in her face. bluey was playing on the TV, the accents rubbing off on her slightly. 

she lit up, “mommy!”

“hi, baby.” you plopped down next to her, and she instantly nozzled against your side. “do you wanna bet on daddy burning something?” 

she eyed you, then nodded, “seven fruit snacks.” you hummed, seemingly thinking it over. but before you had the chance to agree, she added, “and 45 minutes past bedtime.”

you cocked your head, slightly in disbelief, but mostly in amusement. 

“deal.” you held your hand for her to take, which she did (hand significantly smaller than yours) closing the bargain. “i have faith in my husband.” 

you lied, but regardless, you honestly wanted your miniature version to win.

you silently watched a couple more minutes with her, glancing at the clock on the wall. you threaded your hand through her hair, thinking about the styles you could put it into today; ultimately knowing what your kid would prefer. 

“first one ready gets dessert before dinner!”

she jumped off the couch, small legs carrying down the hall and presumably to the bathroom. you followed after a moment, hearing the water start to run.

once finished, you joined sungho outside again, prepared for guests to start showing up. he had to do a double take when you walked out, and if this was a cartoon, you feared his eyes would’ve been popping out of his head. 

“woah,” he snaked his hands around your waist, after abandoning the grill carelessly, planting a couple kisses against your lips and surrounding skin. “damn, are you a5 wagyu?” he murmured, eyes roaming over your figure, “‘cause you look expensive.”  

you caught the look your (almost) three year old daughter gave him; the same one she gave tomatoes. you stifled a laugh against his lips.  

“ew, daddy!” she shrieked at your kiss, wiggling in your arms to push him back. “that’s my mommy!” she argued, throwing her small limbs around your neck and puckering her lips against your cheek. 

“i’m sorry, baby.” he put his palm to your daughter's head gently, kissing her temple. “I’m just letting your mom follow my apron’s instructions.” he revealed said tightly-tied clothing: kiss the chef adorned with fake abs (not that he needed them) printed on it. once again, you wondered when you married such an unserious guy. 

she began to hysterically laugh, and you guffawed, sungho taking her from you gladly. she hugged around his neck, “damn girly, you got a grip.” she squeezed tighter, kissing his cheek too. “i almost passed out!” that prompted a competition between the two, giggles sounding throughout the backyard as your daughter hugged tighter and tighter. 

you were only interrupted when his parents voices cut through the noise, “where’s my pretty princess of a granddaughter?” suddenly said girl was pushing from your husband, trying her hardest to be put down; her grandparents were arguably her second-favorite people. they took care of her during your date-nights and any other time sungho would ask. you’d never had a good relationship with your parents, but you were glad that they took you in for your daughter and husband's sake. 

they met your side, gaining a hug from you. 

“daddy! put me down!” she whined, causing you to giggle at the sight, “please!” 

he shook his head, attacking her with more hugs and kisses. 

it was refreshing to see such a man who wasn’t afraid to show his love and adoration for someone–especially his daughter. 

finally she broke free, running the short distance to sungho’s dad and jumping into his arms. she resumed the game with him, arms wrapping around his neck. 

“i made you something last night!” her attempt to get put down was easier than before, and once she hit the ground she was off, ushering her grandma and grandpa to follow into the house. “c’mon, it’s for your fridge!” 

sungho met your side once again, arm around your midsection, your head laid on his shoulder. you were glad you started a family with him of all people, even though when you were younger you weren't sure you would ever have wanted kids; but everything just felt so safe and secure with him. every doubt and uncertainty was put to rest when he was around. 

“she converted me into a girl-dad.” 

you laughed, “babe, you’ve always been a girl dad. do you remember when we found out, no one cried harder than you did.” 

he waved you off with a pfft sound, “she’s just so adorable, you can’t blame me.” he broke away, arms up innocently, standing back. “she’s a miniature version of you.” 

you spun to face him, “no, she’s exactly like you, baby. terrible humor, no respect for bedtime, fluffy-ass hair.” 

a hum resonated. he was staring again, eyes flicking over you casually. “should we have another, you think? another girl, but i’d love a miniature version of me, too.” your eyebrows rose in amusement, until your attention found itself locked behind him on the copious amount of smoke. 

“it’s burning.” 

“yeah, i know.” he said in a duh-tone, words adorned with his eyes rolling, “you’re hotter than the grill.”

“no, babe.” you grabbed his bare shoulders, spinning him around. “there’s actually a fire right now.” 

“oh my god!” you didn’t need to be facing him to see his eyes go wide, shoulders tensing under your grip. you giggled, sungho moving quickly to grab the tongs from the side table and move the food from the flame that had developed. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, slightly frantic. 

“i guess you could say… missteaks were made.”

he turned slowly, a shit-eating grin across his face, “i knew you liked them.”

of course you did. it was sungho. 

suddenly a voice called out, “mommy, you owe me my fruit snacks!”

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wonbin being too scared to go on rides. he hasnt liked them since a little boy—hes never been on one but just looking at all the ups and downs and twists and turns is too intimidating. the gut to throat feeling when going down a really steep and fast coaster doesnt seem like a nice feeling to him. he doesnt understand why anyone enjoys that. wheres the pleasure? he is not the type to sacrifice his own comfort just to prove his image to you. when it comes to something scary—theres no room for discussion. he. is. not. doing. it. he doesnt care if you laugh at him or call him a loser or whatever other name. it wont diminish his ego anyway. hes more than fine to let you go do it alone as he watches from afar. on the ground. behind the safety barrier. maybe even a couple inches back from the safety barrier. just for extra safety. after all it was your idea to come to an amusement park. you knew he wasnt gonna go on the rides with you. like how dare you take your babygirl princess to a place he hates most. . . “come onnnn, ill hold your hand the whole time wonbin i promise~ its gonna be fun” even with your sweet tone he still looks at you with a completely appalled look that youre seriously trying to convince him right now. you grab at his wrists and try pulling him toward the line of the ride. youre stretching his arms out as his feet stay glued to the cement beneath them refusing to move. obviously hes not gonna budge but you just like to tease him. he throws his head back and complains. you laugh at his annoyed reaction. so you take his hands and instead drag him to a churro stand from across your view (which you know he wont reject) . you sit on a bench and share your cinnamon and sugar coated rods of fried dough—wiping the residues off his face every once in a while. you sit and lovingly stare at your boyfriend taking in his gentle nature. hes just a boy who doesnt like scary things and that makes him him

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ˳.͏✩ ࿀࿁ #隣の春 🐌☘️ ॱ˙.˳˳ᣟ݂ ࿔.

ONE KISS, ONE LOVE

PAIRING: park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit

TROPES: established relationship!au, idol!wonbin, age gap vibes but no real mention, reader babies wonbin like he deserves to be, texts at the end, just sickening sweet stuff

WATCH: wonbin's night routine

NOTE: inspired by the video above! once again, these wonbin fics write themselves ... he might be my favorite boy to write rn or maybe that's just my way of coping!! anyway don't be surprised if i just start spamming u with the wonbin fics i just have too many good ideas. but they're all gonna be set in this same established relationship style, he's just so bf coded lol... anyway, enjoy <3

you've been in bed for a good twenty, clad in cream pyjamas and skincare intact, when you hear the frontdoor open – signalling your boyfriend, wonbin's arrival. you pause the video you're watching on your phone and sit up to greet him, "bin? welcome home." his heavy footsteps stop where his figure finally comes into your view.

wonbin looks wiped out, no doubt, eyes shadowed by his somnolent lashes. he stares at you for a moment before humming, the sound halfway between a thank god you're here and i could die right now. he peels his layers off with speed, black leather jacket hung up on the tree-shaped rack near your closet and his other outerwear finding its place on the small cabinet next to it.

you watch fondly as even in his fatigue, he patiently makes sure no outside clothes pollute the bed. as soon as he's in nothing but his white tee and boxers though, he jumps onto you, deflating the air out of you like a body pillow.

"hello," he mumbles, face disappearing into your chest where he snuggles closer. 

"hi, love," you welcome him warmly, fingers carding through his hair as a force of habit. you breathe against his limp body, letting him unwind on top of you as he often does. it's a silent activity, a night routine of sorts for wonbin on his longest days. he'd trudge home and settle close to you, wordlessly like a cat looking for soothing. 

sometimes, you talked to him about your day and he'd hum along, eyes on yours telling all you needed to hear. other times, you would go back to doing whatever you were doing – watching a show, playing a game, or talking to a friend – while he recharged. he even insisted it worked best when you were just doing your own thing.

today, you do neither. setting your phone aside, you occupy yourself with wonbin himself, first meandering through his charcoal hair and then trailing down to his neck, tracing hearts and stars into his skin. you can feel him relaxing under your touch, his face finally coming back into your vision. 

"tired," wonbin says, voice coarser than ever. "need to sleep." 

"i know, baby," you croon, "wanna wash up first?"

he shakes his head adamantly, "no. sleepy."

you laugh softly, "angel, i'm sure you are but you can't sleep with your makeup on, can you?"

"had a few drinks with taro hyung," he murmurs as if that explains his behavior.

"really? you had time after practice?"

"he snuck it into practice. beer after all that sweating was nice."

"wow, look at you," you muse, hand brushing his bangs out of his eyes, "you sound like an old man."

"i am," wonbin pouts, "let the old man go to sleep."

"sorry, love, i can't do that," you say.

"rude."

"say what you will," you sit up fully, pulling your sluggish boyfriend with you. ignoring his groans, you kiss his nose, "wash up, okay? can't have my rockstar breaking out because he was too lazy to wash his face before bed."

he groans again but this time it's an endearment, his kiss on your cheek disguising his smile. "but i can't move, y/n. please."

"i'll help you," you snake out of the sheets, squatting as you heave wonbin out as well. he stands up unwillingly, head wilting like a sad flower. you laugh, pulling him toward the washroom, "will you listen if i do all the work?"

that gets the job done alright because two minutes later, wonbin's settled against the sink with you between his legs. you crane around his tall limbs to reach for his products, having memorized his night skincare by now. 

cleansing balm in hand, you carefully cover every inch of his face, the makeup turning into oil gradually. "okay, babe, now rinse your face for me."

"you said you'd do all the work!" he complains without missing a beat. 

you glare at him, "i can't possibly wash your face without making a mess of both of us."

"sounds like an excuse to me."

sulking, he turns around, washing the balm off. next, you go in with his foam cleanser, gently circling his cheeks and forehead. despite all his earlier declarations, he watches you attentively, his hand loosely clasped around your waist to keep you in place. you have to scold him midway at one point when he gets cheeky and sneaks a hand down your pyjamas, feeling the hem of your panties. 

eventually, you dry his face off with a hand towel. "there," you peck his cheek, "all clean."

when he doesn't let go of your waist, you raise a brow at him. "you only love me when i'm clean," he scowls, "don't you?"

you narrow your eyes at his tantrum, "i think you're forgetting how i'm sacrificing my screen time before bed to clean you up right now."

he looks unconvinced as he tails you out of the bathroom. he's about to throw himself back onto the bed when you stop him by his hand. "change first," you explain, pulling out fresh pyjamas and throwing them at him. 

wonbin stands idly and it's only when he starts raising his arms up that you realize he wants you to do it. you sigh, "bin, you're such a baby today." but you smile as you pull his shirt off, disregarding the way he instantly flexes when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. slipping his pyjamas on, a piece at a time, you clap when he's done.

"i would make a great mother," you pat yourself on the back.

"you can adopt me if you want," he shrugs and you snicker, "i don't think i need to." 

"you want anything to eat before you sleep?" you ask as if you hadn't quite literally brushed his teeth. "chocolate," he says without any conviction and you roll your eyes at him, watching as he launches himself at the bed.

"quick, come here," wonbin whines. you pad over to your side of the bed and join him, giggling when his body curls around you instantly. his nose finds its indent against your neck this time, cold and fresh. 

for a minute, you think that's all you'll hear out of your boyfriend for the night. but it's just as you're about to reach for your phone when he speaks up again, "sorry if i'm boring."

you're not sure if your ears hear right, "what?"

but his voice is solemn, "...i'm probably kinda boring lately. so i'm sorry."

you turn on your side to face him completely, hand coming to rest against his cheek. "bin, you idiot. you coming home is the best part of my day."

"really? even though i'm too dead to do anything?" he perks up but his eyes gloomy, "we don't even fuck anymore. or go to the movies. or go out at all."

you laugh, "you're making us sound like an old couple on the verge of divorce, baby. you're just busier because of your comeback! i'm so excited and you should be, too."

"i am. but i don't want bore you."

"you don't, though. i'm lucky enough i get to see you at night and take care of you when i can. plus, it's not like you won't have more time after your promotions, right? we can do everything you want then."

wonbin blinks at you, his cool hand finally coming to meet yours where it was still caressing his cheek. he kisses your palm, "thank you. i'm glad."

"of course, love. now, go to sleep or you'll regret it tomorrow," you chirp, rolling over and shutting the lights off quickly.

"...you really would be a great mom," wonbin laughs at your behavior. 

"good night, wonbin."

"good night, mom."

you hit his arm at his brazenness but when he just laughs again, the sound is too sweet for you to even pretend to be mad. so instead, you hug him closer, hand on his bicep and his legs tangled with yours. 

–

bin: I AM FREE AT LAST

bin: FROM THE SHACKLES OF IT

you: …

you: how would ur fans react if i leaked our texts

you: so much for being mysterious

you: "shackles of it" boy have you ever touched a book

bin: okay so you're rude today

bin: i miss y/n mom version

you: ew?? if u have a kink i dont think this is gonna work

bin: because…? 

you: is sungchan still single

bin: i was kidding! haha!

you: ok.

bin: seriously tho let's do smth fun 2nite

you: i get off work late today :(

bin: whatttt you have a life outside of me :0

you: do you WANT me to break up with you???

bin: what i meant was i will be there to pick you up <3

you: wtv man idgaf anymore

bin: noooo

bin: i'll do anything you want don't be mad

you: anything?

bin: well other than leaking our texts ofc

you: i want to live together

bin: ???

bin: we alr do

you: wonbin 

you: baby

you: you just always come over to my place

bin: i sleep there it's my home wdym

you: and you still pay the bills for your place?

bin: i don't make that bag for nothing

you: ok so what if we lived together instead

bin: but i really like your place!!

you: i do too

you: let's make it our place 

bin: shit

bin: i just actually blushed irl

you: :) 

you: is that a yes

bin: i want to marry you

you: okay well let's calm down

bin: did u just reject me

you: i'm telling u that you're gonna regret proposing through text

bin: i love u and i want u to be my wife

bin: omg i just shed a tear at the thought of calling u that

bin: wife…. im changing ur contact name

bin: or should i change it to fiancée? since we havent yet tied the knot

you: park wonbin

you: we are 20 years old

bin: untrue

bin: im 22 

you: i am not marrying you right now

bin: … is there someone else

you: i'm not marrying anyone right now

bin: ok so i'm not husband material

you: you are

bin: i'm not father material? you: no comment

you: but we aren't ready babe

you: let's take it slow k?

you: just move in first

you: we have so many memories to make

bin: you're such a flirt

you: ??? u just asked me to marry you but sure

bin: i'll be moved in by the time you come back home

you: i thought you were picking me up

bin: that was before u asked me to move in

bin: now i have to bring all my stuff over

bin: which side of your closet can i use? bin: also thoughts on letting me keep my rock collection next to your figurines?

you: right side and no

bin: wow u didnt even think about it

you: imagine we get into a fight

bin: i refuse to

you: i'm just saying i would be tempted to throw them rocks at u

bin: you would do that????

you: depending on what u do

bin: why are you expecting me to do anything at all????

you: …experience

bin: wow

you: to be loved is to be known

bin: you can't flatter me now

you: i love you 

bin: …

bin: i love you too

a date and five older brothers

kim woonhak x reader

idol!woonhak x non-idol!reader, established relationship <3 bnd members being annoying older brothers to their woonagi TT cuteness and fluffiness and so so so so silly!!!! lowercase intended, pls excuse any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors! enjoyy

wc: 2,868

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"ugh, why does it have to be raining cats and dogs today of all days?!"

kim woonhak groans loudly in frustration as he stares out his dorm's big glass window, large droplets of water smacking against it just as loud. jaehyun snickers from behind the boy, "what's wrong with a little rain, woonagi?" he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as the nickname for the younger boy leaves his mouth. "oh, you must be forgetting, hyung" taesan begins, grabbing the attention of all the members in the room with them. "our baby has a date with his girlfriend today~ doesn't he?" the five members of the boy-group apart from their youngest one shared a laugh, finding the way woonhak's ears and cheeks turned a bright red just so hilarious.

"but with the rain like this...we won't be able to go anywhere! i should just call her and-" the kim boy was cut off by the ringtone blasting out of the speaker of his phone. "speak of the devil" sungho said, grabbing the boy's phone and handing it over to him. "everyone be quiet, our baby has a vewy impowtant phone cwall" leehan teases in a baby-like voice, causing riwoo to laugh out loud before earning a silent 'fuck you' from the blush-y woonhak.

his hyungs sat and listened closely as their maknae picked up the call, pressing the device against his ear. "hey, what's up? i was just about to call you" they watched as the boy's previously annoyed face softened into a kind and smiley one. a wide grin grew against his lips as he talked with his girlfriend on the phone, nodding as if she could see him and then laughing at some of the things she said. "i know, it's way too crazy out there to go out...it sucks though, this is my first day off in like forever!" woonhak whined, slumping himself down on the couch. "yeah...i guess so, but i really wanna see you today..."

as the boy continued to converse with the girl, the rest of the boys noticed the way his eyes got sadder- as if he really was that upset about the rain and the change in their date plans. "maybe she should just come over here, looks like he really wants to see her" taesan whispers and riwoo nods. "i agree. wait let's suggest that to him"

"woonhak! hey!" jaehyun calls out just loud enough to be heard but not so that the girl on the other line of the phone could hear him. the younger boy furrows his eyebrows so as to ask 'what?!', using his shoulder to keep the phone pressed to the side of his head and throwing his free hands in the air in question. "wait, wait" his hyungs say, pointing their pointer fingers up in the air as they did so. the confused maknae watched as sungho got up, coming back a second later with a piece of paper and a pen. the other boys gave him a thumbs up before beginning to scribble something down on the paper. "mhm, i'm still here...hold on, i think the hyungs are trying to tell me something...wait" woonhak tells this girlfriend, squinting his eyes to try and make out what sungho had written so insanely small on the sheet.

"invite....invite? invite her over here...?" the boy said out loud, "oh! oh! invite her to come over here?!" he exclaimed this time, receiving a bunch of nods and silent claps from the group of boys who began to cheer, treating this whole thing like a game-show episode. liking the idea, woonhak excitedly jumps up from his seat. "yes! so you wanna come over here? we could just like...watch a movie or something..." the older members chuckled to themselves, looking at the way their youngest smiled happily. "okay! great then, i'll text you the address, see you soon...bye! love you too"

"aw~ did you hear that, guys? he lo~ves~ her too~" riwoo teased as soon as the boy hung up the phone and woonhak rolls his eyes again, bending down to pick up a small pillow from off the couch and throwing it straight at him. "ow! hey, you should be thankful we came up with the idea to save you from being sad all day" the other boys nodded, "exactly, everyone say: thank you taesan-ow!" another pillow floating through the air, directed at taesan this time. "she's coming over in a few minutes...YOU GUYS NEED TO BEHAVE. PLEASE." the boy yells sternly, eyes narrowing like a hawk. they laugh, getting off of where they were sprawled out on the floor and walking closer to their maknae.

"relax, woonagi~ when have we ever embarrassed you?"

half an hour goes by in what felt like five seconds to the boy who was so busy making sure the dorm was spotless before his girlfriend walked through the door. "guys what do you think of my outfit?" woonhak asks, spinning around to give the members a 360 view of his clothes. sungho laughs, "relax a little! it's not like you guys are going to a fashion show!" leehan agrees, "yeah, i think your sweatpants and white t-shirt will be fine" jaehyun laughs from the kitchen where he had been sent to wash his dirty dishes, "what are you stressing for, hakie? she's just coming over to your dorm, no big deal" oh, but it was a big deal. a huge deal. at least to the young loverboy it was.

just as he was about to yell at his hyungs for not taking him seriously, the buzzer by their door made a sound. woonhak's ears perked up, his feet gliding smoothly against the slippery floor as he ran over to it. "hello? it's me, yn" her voice cracking through the poor quality of the intercom made the boy's whole body warm. "hey! yeah, let me buzz you in" he replied, pressing the small button beside the speaker.

not even a minute passes before there's a knock on their door. "let me get it!" taesan says, not giving woonhak enough time to even argue before walking past him and over to the door. the other guys snicker, finding joy in bullying their little brother. "hey-oh! hi, taesan" they could hear her voice so clearly now, "hey, yn! nice to see you again- come in, woonhak's been dying to see you all day he was literally almost about to cry when it started raining and-" taesan never finished his sentence, "hyung! can we not?!" he whined, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest as he did so. a female giggle entered his ears as his girlfriend finally came into proper view.

"you're so cute, woonhak"

yn ln smiles, her eyes disappearing and the spots below her cheeks dipping into deep dimples. her clothes almost match her boyfriend's, a pair of grey sweatpants that were just the right amount of baggy paired with a plain white tank-top and a baby-blue mini cardigan layered on top. the boy smiles from ear to ear, unconsciously opening his arms out for her to run into. she laughs, stepping closer and welcoming herself into his warm embrace. "i missed you" yn says, melting into his chest. "i...missed you too" he stutters a bit, his face growing red when he remembers the rest of the people in the room with them.

"aw~ so sweet" jaehyun coos, interrupting the couple's wholesome moment. "ah! i'm sorry i haven't even said hi to you guys yet. hi, it's nice to see you all again- sorry i came over like this, with the rain and all it's hard to go anywhere...i hope you guys don't mind that i'm here" the boys chuckle, finding the way she worried so sweet. "it's no problem, yn! you can come over anytime, i'm sure it'd make our woonagi so very happy~" riwoo said, moving to pinch at their maknae's cheeks teasingly. "hyung! stop!" the boy whines again, making his girlfriend smile. "woonagi" she repeats the nickname. "i like that...it's so..." she trails off, looking up at him. "so fitting"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

after about an hour, all awkwardness had been thrown out the window. the couple were now cuddling comfortably on the couch, the rest of the boy-group sprawled out on the floor or on the coloured bean bags. all their eyes focused onto the rom-com that played on the television- well, all eyes except woonhak's, who's gaze lingered on her face. he found the way her eyes sparkled and the way her lips remained slightly parted as she breathed way more interesting than the movie they were supposed to be watching. his hands found their way to rest on her head, his fingers dancing through her hair as she nuzzled her face closer to his chest.

over on the floor beside the couch leehan looked away from the screen for just a second only to catch a glimpse at their youngest member's loving gaze. he almost laughed too loudly, tapping taesan's shoulder to show him the real life scene unfolding before them. he snorts before flipping out his samsung to snap a silly picture, making a mental note to tease the boy for it later.

the pretty dialogue from the rom-com, paired with the pitter-pattering of harsh rain and the soft strokes of her boyfriend's hands in her hair must've been the reason why the girl had suddenly felt a wave of sleepiness crash over her body. for it didn't take long before yn ln had peacefully fallen asleep in kim woonhak's arms. he noticed it right away. the way the weight of her body got a little heavier as she relaxed into his touch, the way her breathing matched his own, and the way she stopped giggling over the stupid jokes from the movie. it only took a single look down at her slumberous face to confirm his speculations. it was so perfect. this whole moment was so perfect. spending his first day off in a while with his girlfriend, snuggled up in the comfort of his dorm- and best of all, his hyungs seemed to be too engrossed in the film to be constantly making fun of him! nothing could go wrong now...

"shit"

must've spoken too soon. the boy's sudden cuss made the others turn to face him, seeing for the very first time in all their lives: a sleeping girl, comfortably laying on their so-called baby brother. "what's wrong?" jaehyun asks, confused as to why the boy looked so stressed out in the moment. maybe the young boy had never had a pretty girl fall asleep on him before. or maybe he was cussing out of pure cuteness aggression. or maybe he was just so happy right now it stressed him out. or...or maybe...and most realistically...

"i need to piss but if i move i might wake her up...what do i do?!"

the chorus of hysterical laughs that emerged from the group of boys were almost loud enough to wake the girl up from her slumber. woonhak had to press a finger to his lips and tell them all to be quiet. "god...you're so stupid, woonagi...just carefully get up and go!" riwoo whisper-yelled, still calming down from the fit of laughter he just had. the boy rolled his eyes for possibly the hundredth time that day and then he sighed, looking down to the girl on his chest, softly stroking away her hair that covered her face. woonhak took a deep breath, "okay..." he told himself, carefully lifting yn's head up with both his hands. he shifted away quickly, replacing his body with a pillow before placing her back down to rest.

he let's out a breath, mentally patting himself on the back as if he had just taken part in the most difficult olympic sport know to man. the other members laughed to themselves, silently making fun of how serious the boy looked just now. woonhak flipped them off in annoyance as he passed by them on the way to the bathroom.

the boy comes back about two minutes later, sighing in relief when he sees that the girl remained fast asleep and untouched on the couch. he tries his best to crawl back to the spot he was sitting in earlier, lifting yn's head off the pillow and back onto his chest. however, this was easier said than done and it seems the boy's movements were far too rushed, causing the girl to awake from her slumber.

"shoot" he says as she begins to sit up straight, her hands moving up to rub at her sleepy eyes. "sorry, i didn't mean to wake you" woonhak says, smiling sheepishly when she lets out the sweetest yawn he's ever heard in his entire life. yn shakes her head, "no, it's fine. how long was i asleep for?" she asks, stretching out her arms. "well, you missed the rest of the movie" he replies, scooting closer to her. "yeah, but so did you" taesan butts in from where he laid on the floor. the maknae boy furrows his eyebrows, "what do you mean? i was totally watching the movie!" leehan snickers, "if by movie you mean staring at your girlfriend then yeah, you were totally watching!"

yn giggles at the bickering boys, "that's so not true!" woonhak whines as his girlfriend moved to lay against him again. "oh, but it is! i have proof~" taesan teases, waving the opened photo he took on his phone around in the air. the other boys laughed at the way the boy's ears practically fumed with anger. "let me see" the girl on his chest requests, grabbing the phone from the older member's hand.

"aw!" she cooed, zooming into her boyfriend's loving expression on the image. "you're so cute, woonhak" she said so sweetly, her eyes moving from the phone screen and over to his face. the anger on his complexion disappeared into a look of pure love. yn pushes herself upwards a bit, just so she was inches away from his face. "my woonhak" she said once more before leaning in to press her lips against his. he smiled, kissing her right back softly...and then again and again a dozen more times all over her face, seemingly beginning to forget about his hyungs that sat and watched.

"awwww~~~ woonagi! give hyung a kissy too" jaehyun teases, puckering his lips out and tapping his cheek. "yeah~ i want one too~" riwoo follows. woonhak groans, throwing his head back in annoyance. yn laughs, "you guys are so silly...and you're so cute, did i say that already?" the girl smiles, pulling her boyfriend by the collar of his shirt to kiss him again. "disgusting" sungho says, shaking his head as he gets up to head to the kitchen. "yn~ give me a kiss too!" taesan says jokingly, "hyung!" the maknae complains, but much to his surprise the girl turns to blow his group-member a flying kiss.

"hey! that's not fair. you're not supposed to give them flying kisses- you're my girlfriend!" the pout on his face melted all the girl's insides, it took her every muscle in her body to not stuff him in her pocket at that very moment. "ugh, you cutie!" she practically squealed, tackling the boy down so that he laid on his back on the couch. "i love you! i love you!" she repeated, peppering his face with little pecks. "ah! okay, okay i get it! alright i love you too! stop! they're gonna make fun of me!" with a little more convincing from the boy, she finally stopped. allowing him to sit back up, his insanely flustered and stupidly red face in full display for everyone to see.

"our baby...so in love" jaehyun teases for the last time, woonhak had given up on arguing and just chose to accept the fact that his brothers were going to make fun of him for as long as he's dating yn- which he hoped was for the rest of his life.

"you guys seriously need to stop bullying the poor baby" yn giggled as she spoke, pressing a kiss to the side of her boyfriend's cheek. woonhak scoffed, "and you need to stop calling me a baby too! i'm fully going to be eighteen years old!" he complained, still pouting. this time, the whole room just shook their heads.

"nice try, but that's never going to happen...baby"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"thanks for coming over, yn" woonhak says, wrapping the girl in a final hug. "thanks for inviting me over. it sucks we couldn't go out like we planned but there's always another time! and i had a lot of fun today" yn replied, her voice muffled by the contact with his clothes. "get home safely and i love you" he said, leaning down to kiss her. she smiled softly, "i love you too! i'll text you when i'm home and also goodluck with all the comeback preparations and stuff! all of you"

"BYE YN! COME BACK SOON! WE'LL SHOW YOU ALL OF WOONHAK'S TRAINEE VIDEOS!" - "hyung!!!!" - "we'll show you all his baby pictures too!"

"okay, bye yn! please leave now before they say something worse! i love you"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

ahh first fic in a while 😭 hope u guys liked this silly little thing <3 i love woonagi so so much!! ALSO who else can't wait for bonedo comeback!! 19.99 🤤🤤 anyways reblogs n feedback r very appreciated. love, kona.

AND THATS HOW I MET YOUR DAD | SUNGHO

pairing : idol!sungho x reader

genre : fluff

WHAT ! - where a summer vacation turns to meeting the love of your life for this lovely anon ^3^ (warnings: petnames, kisses)

wc : 2391 | @onedoornet, for the odn summer with you :-)

"is your room clean riwoo?" sungho asked in a panicked tone as the younger boy rolled his eyes while nodding, "its not like they'll come to my room...

right?"

sungho shook his head and sighed "i just want everything to be perfect for them, it's their first time back in seoul and i just want them to be able to relax without any disruptions or worries"

he then groaned hearing leehan complain about being on bathroom duty for the 84th time that day, just then the bell rang shooting sungho to his feet. he ran to the bathroom and closed the door so you couldn't see, or hear leehan complain while cleaning the bathroom. riwoo opened the door for you only to be shoved away

"MY BABY" he cooed out to you before wrapping his arms around you making you laugh as you returned the hug "hi sungie" you mumbled against the hug. in the corner of your eye you saw riwoo rolling his eyes at sungho and leehan peeping out from the corner, you wave and say your hello's and they said there's and quickly welcomed you to their dorm. sungho brought you over to the couch to rest as riwoo put away your bags and leehan got you a glass of water (after he washed his hands...)

as leehan comes back with your water, riwoo comes back just in time for you 4 to sit on the couch altogether. as you all start talking they listen to you talk about your home country and a bit about yourself since sungho already told them everything. and you listened to them complain about how bossy sungho was today

"im so glad youre here yn, i don't know how many more orders i could take, he was treating me like some dog" leehan complained only to get his head pushed slightly by sungho "you guys are being dramatic" he defended himself "i don't know, i believe them," you said getting a slightly sulky sungho in return.

"yn if you dont mind me asking, how did you and sungho meet?" riwoo spoke up to which leehan added his 2 cents to the question "yeah, how did you two meet? sungho never told us" all 3 of you guys look up at sungho who was beet red. he looked over to you and his face read "please don't tell them"

so what did you do?

you told them

"it was summer last year, around june, so a month after you guys debuted, i was walking through the streets trying to find a good coffee place and a beauty store,.."

you remembered it like the back of your hand, it was freshly summer and you had landed in Korea a day ago. the next morning you had woken up to severe jet lag as well as a realization that you had completely forgotten to pack your skincare. so the disappointment, as well as the tiredness combined, create a very cranky but desperate person trying to find a coffee shop that doesn't just sell americanos and a beauty store that isn't too expensive. unluckily for you, when you got on the subway looking for a person to help they all declined. maybe you looked how you felt (crusty) or maybe it was just that they were busy, you like to believe the second option. anyways, everyone seemed to have failed you until you noticed a man sitting in the back with his headphones in looking at you. you held onto the rail staring at him

you like to believe it was love at first sight on his behalf, and spoiler it was.

you decided you had nothing else to lose and walked up to him trying not to fall as the subway moved.

"excuse me?" you asked

he looked up and shocked as if he wasn't just staring at you

he was making it very awkward right now...

"uhm, do you know a coffee spot and a store that sells skincare? I'm traveling and really need the stuff" you briefly explain your situation as he stares at you

that was the first thing he noticed about you, how completely gorgeous you were. even if you didn't tell him about your situation moments later, he wouldn't even have noticed

oh gosh, was there something on your face?

you knew better than to not double-check before leaving, you probably have dry skin flakes all over your face.

"youre very pretty" he blurted out

"huh?"

"huh"

you both said at the same exact time, you had a reason to be confused but he had said it

"uhm i meant yes i do!" he smiled widely with his teeth trying to downplay the awkward interaction, it clearly didn't work as you slowly backed away from him

"no!" he quietly shouted as he saw you walk away. he cleared his through once he looked around and saw everyone staring at him

"i'm not busy today, i can go with you to the places, and i can show you around

if you want..."

you stare at him for a second as all the red flags started to go off

"i'm not weird i promise, just...very awkward"

well he seemed convincing enough

you sat down next to him and it was silence again before he spoke up

"so, why are you visiting?" the man asked as he turned over to look at you. "just traveling, my friends recommended that i come here, so i thought 'why not?' i mean i only once right? but korea wasn't my first choice, i wanted to try and go to singapore or thailand, maybe vietnam, vietnam would've been nice huh? but my friends were more familiar with Korea, which is ironic to how i was just begging people for help right? i mean its like midnight over where they are, so i guess fair enough."

that was the second thing he noticed about you, how talkative you were, to which he was not complaining. the second he heard your voice he wanted to replay it each second he could. he listened to each word you said with detail and understanding as if he was the one traveling.

"oh sorry im yn"

"sungho" he smiled at you

"oh, how long are you staying?"

"about 4 days, well 3 after today"

he nodded and continued to ask you questions to hear your long lengthy replies.

as you two stepped off the subway he lead the way. you decided you wanted to get drinks first which he was totally okay with. even if he just met you today, anywhere you go, he goes.

you two made it to the cafe and surprisingly you weren't greeted the smell of only coffee like your friends had said. you could hear blenders of fruit smoothies to bottles shaking of mixing juices. as you took a look at the menu he stood by you admiring your side profile

"have you been here before?" you asked turning over to him to which he quickly moved his head back to look away

"yeah, this is one of my most favorite spots"

he lied :/, he never been to the place, he just wanted to go on the longest subway ride with you and panicked when he realized he had no idea what was in this area, he just kept walking as you followed until he found a spot. you both ordered and he paid despite your protest.

he sat there as you talked listening while looking at the receipt and at your order "you don't like coffee?" sungho asked as he turned to look at you shaking your head "this is what i normally get at my local cafe either way" he nodded at the information making sure to keep it memorized.

"do you like coffee?" you asked sungho this time

"no, no coffee is for losers" he laughed trying to impress you, and he clearly failed

staring at him as your head tilted he sighed

"yeah, i like coffee"

laughing at him, he turns to you and laughs too. he couldn't help it, your life was too infective. anything about you was infective actually

he realized in that short one and half hours that he knew you he was already picking up on your habits

"sungho?" the barista called out, you and sungho quickly got up to collect your drinks. when you both sipped your drinks at the same time he focused on your reaction. noticing his gaze you pretend to like it even though the drink was horrible. so he did the same, his drink was just as, maybe even worse. but he did a faked satisfied "mmh" as he sipped

hating the taste in your mouth you furrow your brows "wow, you have...different taste"

"can i tell you something?" he said swallowing his drink

looking up at him you nodded

"i dont know where this place is...nor have i ever drunk from here

i just wanted to spend time with you" sungho admitted stirring the poorly made overpriced drink

he expected you to be mad or something when he heard no response. he looked up at you to see you processing the information being told to you

"well i guess today will be an adventure for both of us?"

sungho smiled liking your energy.

today he either found a very very good friend or the love of his life

you both tried to follow the google maps leading to the beauty store but with the bad data, you two realized after 30 minutes that the map was leading you guys in circles. deciding to get back onto the subway to seoul, the city where he was familiar with so he can actually take you to a beauty store.

the subway was empty besides sungho and you sitting by each other in a random seat chatting away. sungho knew he was probably oversharing with a person that he met just today but it was something about you that drew him into to place that he had never felt familiar with

comfort, and sure maybe he used to preach about love at first sight being dumb and a stupid concept but, he understood it now. and the proof was sitting right in front of him

as you two got to the beauty store you started to get the products you needed since your day started but hours later. sungho memorized each product you had gotten in case you ever told him you needed or lost the product. you fought him off at the checkout managing to pay this time, but he swore to himself that hopefully if you guys keep in touch, you'll never have to pay for anything again unless he's there.

the day started to get dim and sungho agreed (begged) to drop you off. the sunset watched you and sungho as you both were walking. time seemed to move too quickly, that or either you and him were very fast walkers. he dropped you off at the front of your hotel, before you got too far he grabbed your wrist causing you to turn around "do you think i can call you tonight?"

"thats such a corny way to ask for someone's number" you joke looking at him before handing your phone to him. when you finally exchange numbers that's when he watches you leave and stay until he sees you go into the elevator, sungho continued to walk to the dorms with a big smile on his face as he replayed his day, your voice, your jokes, your face, just you. something about you amused him, whether it was your personality, jokes, or anything about you seemed to have him wrapped around your finger

as soon as he gets back to the dorms his face is painted with a big frown, his cheeks hurt too much from smiling and laughing today that he thought he couldn't anymore.

"did your face get ranover?" riwoo asked as he looked up from his dinner to see sungho frowning

sungho slightly laughed before jumping onto his bed and changing your contact name to put a bunch of hearts.

out of impulse sungho texted you

"can i call you tonight?" and threw his phone like a middle schooler who had just fallen in love

you replied with a 'sure :)' and he had never freshened up quicker. before pressing the 'call' button he fixed his hair and sighed

after a long 4 rings, you answer

and thats how it started

it had become a routine, no matter how tired you both were and despite the time difference you managed to call each night. whether it ended in sleep or laughter, trust, you both were hearing it.

even though his schedule was busy he had made time for you. if it was 4 am in Korea and the middle of the day wherever you were he still answered, whether it was to comfort you, hear you rant, or watch you open up his groups album to which he manifested with you that you would get his photo cards

and it wasnt too long until sungho had asked you out over the phone

when you picked up the facetime call he had his lights on disco mode making the colors change, a pair of orange sunglasses on, and a poster that said "let me be your boyfriend?"

of course you said yes making you see riwoo and leehan jump into frame cheering for their friend with party poppers and kazoos.

"and thats how i met your dad" you smiled

leehan gagged "he's NOT our dad"

"i wish i was older than you" riwoo sighed

"sungho youre such a loser"

"yn i wouldve left him the second he took me to a city he knew nothing about"

laughing at their reaction you hear sungho groan before he shows you his room in person. he laid on his bed and patted the spot next to him for you to lay down too, as you rested he turned over to you

he kissed your cheek and smiled

"i dont have to call you tonight"

he sat up when he saw something attached to your bag

"is that my photocard?"

"HI YN" sungho and you jump at the door bursting open to reveal jaheyun, taesan, and woonhak

this was gonna be a long trip

• PAIRING — idol!wonbin x gn!reader

• GENRE — shy wonbin, energetic reader.. honestly don't know what i was writing i was just.. well.. ✨writing✨ also a singular cuss word ikik

• WORD COUNT — 557

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — request on wattpad. I also know nothing about make up!!

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

"The more you stare, the more obvious it is." Seunghan informs the older boy, patting his shoulder when some of the SM workers were calling him to get his makeup done. Wonbin nods his head, acknowledging the statement while trying to calm his racing heart. This was going to be for a while.

Maybe, just maybe wonbin liked you. Wait, no he didnt. You were his makeup artist, his co-worker in a sense. He was an idol, with girls gawking at him every hour of the day. He shouldnt fall for someone thats just patting his face. Not when that person is inches away from his lips, their breath fanning wonbins face, making him want to melt on the spot. Fuck, that doesnt help him out.

He awkwardly sits in his seat, spinning around his chair as he waits for your presence. Where were you? You needed to be the one who does his makeup, he looks so much prettier. "Incoming!!" He hears your voice, batting his head to your direction as you struggle to carry your products.

He bolts over in a flash, which surprises you, since he was mostly quiet, frozen like a rock. "Thank you, and sorry." You couldnt help but laugh, wiping some sweat from your brow as wonbin carefully puts the products on the small table in front of him, before sitting back in his seat.

"How are you?" You try to make conversation but deep down you knew it was pointless. Wonbin was always so alive around the members, but whenever hes with you hes cold, quiet. You wanted to break that barrier, make a new friend.. but he wasnt helping.

"Okay," he hums, you nod your head, opening one of the containers and grabbing a brush. "H-how are you?" He replies, a light stutter. You eyes widen, "oh im great!! Was almost late so maybe thats why theres so much adrenaline in me today!" A small smile appears on wonbins face, he liked hearing you talk.

"Um-"

"Close your eyes for me," you lightly smile. "Oh, continue with what you're saying." You brush lightly on his closed eye. "I uh.. like your outfit today."

"Oh, thank you!" You respond, although you were confused on the amount of compliments he was giving you. "Open." You instruct. "Im just going to put some light make up on you, then you'll be ready in a flash."

Wonbin nods, feeling a little sad that he couldnt spend a lot of time with you. "So uh.."

"Yeah..?" You giggle, dropping down to apply some lip gloss on the boy. His breath lightly hitches, "i was wondering if.. you had any plans for dinner..?" His eyes brows raise, looking at you expectantly.

"S-since its super late and-"

"I'd like that." You smile with a nod, wonbins eyes widening. "Oh.. oh. C-cool." He give you a shy smile, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah.. andd we are all done." You clap your hands, passing him a mirror. "Do you like it?"

He looks at his reflection, a sly smile on his lips. "It's pretty.. like you."

"Oop-"

"Andd i think im going to take wonbin now," seunghan spawns out of nowhere, taking the boys arm and dragging him out of his chair, sending you a sideways smile.

"7:00!! After shootings!!" Wonbin yells, waving at your figure.

𓂃 watercolor eyes | park wonbin oneshot

⚡︎ pairing: Stoner!Wonbin x Female!Reader | ⚡︎ word count: 7.8k | ⚡︎ genre: mutual pining, college au, smut (⚠︎) | ⚡︎ contains: awkward relationships, an original character + sungchan and shotaro, swearing, drug use/distribution, angst (?), mild dacryphilia, sexual tension mixed with fluff, kissing, unprotected sex while buzzed, heavy petting, oral (m. r)

ON TOP OF countless other obligations in your life, upcoming exams were kicking your anxiety's ass with the biggest fucking boots imaginable.

All you wanted was to take the edge off, and at this point, you didn’t care what it’d take to do that.

Introducing Exhibit A: Your closest friend and roommate, Roxanne, who so conveniently happened to be a junkie.

You brought up your need for a “quick fix” (so to speak) while studying in your dorm together one afternoon. Though, she offered to get you some help from another friend of hers who you’d never met before.

“Wait, you want me to go with you?” You asked in confusion, already prepared to reject Roxanne’s proposal at the idea of personally consulting her drug dealer.

“Yes, you're coming with me… What do you think this is, Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“No, but… I-"

“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out, ____,” she chuckled, turning the steering wheel as she trailed down a shadowy lane.

“No, I… I want this… I need this even, it’s just that…I don’t really know what to expect…”

“Then don’t expect anything,” she answered, giving you an encouraging smile that came off as more condescending, “Expectations are for pussies anyways.”

“Roxanne, I’ve never even met this guy before,” you pressed, hoping that she’d maybe let you sit outside in the car instead of actually speaking with him.

“Look, I’m close with my dealer, and as I always say, a friend of mine is a friend of yours.”

Cue your internal sigh of submission.

“Okay,” you said, straightening your posture in your seat with a feigned confidence.

“Uhhhh, are you sure with that ‘okay,’ or is it more like an ‘okay, I have more questions’ type of ‘okay’?”

“No,” you clarified, “it means what I said… I’m okay.”

“Okay,” she nodded, before giving you a brief synopsis about this friend of hers: STEM major, weed connoisseur, and art-hoe with a shy guy undercut.

Doesn’t sound anywhere near as daunting as the drug dealers on TV shows appear to be, right?

She pulled up to one of the apartment complexes a few miles from your university. It was one of the lower quality establishments, with the only oddity being how nice the vehicles parked outside the apartment divisions were, a sleek black motorcycle belonging to none other than the mysterious drug smuggler named Wonbin Park.

“Hey, take off your hood, silly, it’s rude,” Roxanne nudged, locking her car from the keys in her pocket more times than necessary.

“But… what if someone sees us?,” you whispered, walking closely beside her.

“Then I’m glad their eyes are working? Hell, I don’t fucking know what they’d want me to tell ‘em,” she shrugged, walking up to the front door.

“So are you acting like a nonchalant loser on purpose, or is this just your way of trying to calm me down?”

Roxanne laughed hysterically at your words, showcasing the sparkly pink gem decorating her upper canine teeth as she patted you on the back.

“We’re just here for weed, babe. That will help calm you down before I can.”

You had almost missed the part where she knocked as you got lost in your head, the front door suddenly opening and basking you both with a sudden warmth, contrasting with the cold evening weather.

“Roxie?,” asked the male from the doorstep that you fought with every bone in your body to avoid making eye contact with.

“Wonie?” Your friend mocked goofily, walking up to hug the boy briefly before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.”

“Not at all, my place is always open to you and your girlfriends,” he chirped with forced yet gentle enthusiasm.

“Uhhhh, she’s just a friend, considering how we’ve only slept together while clothed before… but thanks anyway!”

“Any time,” he replied confidently, walking up to the sink that was conveniently in his living room before re-lighting the dead bud of the joint he held gracefully between his plump lips, ashes falling from the tip before he inhaled a thick huff.

Some of the ash fell on his lower abdomen, and you were just now realizing that he didn’t have a shirt on.

Good thing you were used to the smell of pot by now, thanks to Roxanne’s inevitable habit of greening out every Friday night.

“So, what brings you ladies in today? I’d hate to break it to you, but I used my last condom just a few hours ago.”

“Yeah, we’re actually here for a different kind of pipe this time,” Roxanne answered, blinking as if trying to communicate with him to ditch the wild language.

“Oh,” he said, doe eyes widening as his mouth hung a little, his bunny teeth shining right back at you.

Stop staring at his mouth.

Stop staring at his mouth-

“I uh… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” he smiled softly, and of course you noticed because that’s where your eyes were glued the entire time, so distracted that it startled you when he reached to shake your hand.

“I’m Wonbin, but… you can call me anything you like, really.”

“It’s alright,” you returned, finally coming back to the present, “I’m ____.”

His initially confident demeanor stemmed from his assumption that you were more flamboyant like Roxanne, but he made note to be less vulgar until he could tell you warmed up to him.

Until he properly warmed up to you.

“So uh, yeah, do you want the usual, or were you thinking to try something new?” Wonbin asked casually as he leaned on the back of the sofa.

“Hmm,” Roxie hummed in thought, “yeah, my usual’s good. Just lay off the stronger stuff in the mix, though. It’s her first time.”

Something about what she said made Wonbin smile, wide and excited, peeking at you through his shaggy bangs with zero intent of hiding it.

Was he… flirting with you?

“Well, it’s my pleasure to be your first then,” he winked, getting up from the couch and heading to another room on his flat.

“You two kittens just wait here and I’ll be back with your stuff in a minute,” he claimed, which actually ended up being around an 8 minute wait while you and Roxanne went on and on about something you can’t even remember now.

The smile evaporated from Roxanne’s face as Wonbin returned to the living room while reciting the order. “You’ve got two ounces of-”

“I know the recipe, moron. You might scare my friend away if you say it out loud…,” she joked, feigning a pout as she hugged your shoulder, “so how much do you want for it, candy man?”

“It’s on the house this time,” Wonbin said, “so long as you bring me dinner tonight.”

“Fucking fat ass,” she spat, “what’re you craving?”

“Something warm,” he replied almost immediately, “with seasoned meat and a sauce… Maybe some rice, too.”

“Gotcha,” Roxie chirped as she pushed off of her knees to stand up.

Wonbin walked up to hand her the goody bag with such politeness, almost in the way that a child would give something to his big sister.

“Cool. I like eating around 7 o’clock, so you know when and where to find me.”

“Yes, through your stomach and all the way up to your greedy little heart.”

“Mhm,” he said with a satisfied hum, taking Roxanne’s spot on the couch as she walked towards the door. You and Wonbin were now sitting next to each other, his arms spread out on the back of the couch in a relaxed manner.

“Uhm, ____?”

“Oh, right! Sorry… I didn’t know we were finished,” you stammered, getting up from the couch to meet Roxanne at the door.

“Yeah, took him long enough,” she rolled her eyes, “I was starting to think he wanted us to spend the night…”

“Alright, get out of my apartment already,” he said playfully, waving a hand as if shooing you two, “and make sure to secure the bottom lock for me, I don’t feel like getting back up yet.”

“Whatever.”

Slam.

The door was closed, 50% locked, and you two were heading back down the staircase, cold air greeting you once again before you both got back in the car, driving back to your dorm room to drop off the drugs first, and then to the grocery store…

… to buy a bag of rice and a fresh pack of chicken.

“WHAT’S THAT NOISE?,” Roxanne asked with animatedly furrowed eyebrows, holding the grocery bag you two had packed Wonbin’s “dinner” in.

You ended up making a chicken roast with carrots, potatoes, gravy, and steamed rice like he asked.

“Here, hold this,” Roxanne mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear before she dropped the bag, your reflects luckily kicking in fast enough for you to catch it before the glass container could hit the concrete stair well.

“It’s as cold as a snowman’s grave out here, Wonie, open up!,” She yelled while banging on the front door, the little dream catcher that hung on the inner side jingling with her forceful hits, “Hellooooo?”

“You’re like Doordash but with the temper of FedEx,” you heard a deep voice say from behind the walls.

“But I only charge herbal fees for my services,” she added while crossing her arms.

Creek.

The door slung open, Wonbin’s muscular arms framing the entrance with a fed up look plastered on his face.

There were two people sitting behind him on the couch playing video games. A violent game, you’d assume, given the sporadic and sharp flashes of light that filled the room.

“Is there some kind of a secret password now or something?,” Roxanne asked impatiently, not as entertained my the view of Wonbin’s still shirtless body like you were.

“Oh, right… come on in ladies,” he said with a feigned smile, extending a hand to welcome you two back in, “hope you brought enough food, because I have guests.”

You followed Roxanne and Wonbin to the kitchen, where you placed the steaming bag of food on the counter before taking out the containers. That’s when Roxanne started grabbing dishes from the cabinet.

The glass plates clinked behind you as you went to search for a serving spoon in the drawer. “Hey… where are the spoons and forks?,” you asked while still looking through one of his kitchen drawers before Wonbin suddenly tapped you on the shoulder.

“I uhm… I keep the utensils in here,” he smiled shyly, just as he reached for the overhead counter to grab the silverware he kept in a box. Your breath got caught in your chest as you felt his hips nearly fuse with yours in the moment. Luckily, he couldn’t see how flustered you appeared underneath his shadow.

“Gimme that,” Roxanne giggled, snatching the box from him and taking out two large ladles, one for the rice and another for the roast.

“Gosh, that smells amazing! Can you put cheese on mine, pretty please?,” you heard one of the boys ask from the couch, peeking over his shoulder with soft eyes.

“Yes, Taro, I can put some cheese on it for you… even though I think it’s weird,” Roxanne smiled.

“Ahh, thanks man. Oh- and who’s the new girl?” He went on, placing the controller down as he was no longer interested in playing.

“Just a friend in need of a good time—” Wonbin answered, which shocked you to say the least, “—so be nice, Sungchan.”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?,” The taller boy pitched in, “but does she even talk?”

The room went quiet for a moment, the only sound being Sungchan’s clicks from the remote controller before he got gunned down by a random player.

“Dammit, Shotaro! Why’d you stop playing? Now we’re tied with the other team!!”

“Too bad, so sad, bro. I’m hungry,” he chirped, getting up from the couch to help you bring the plates to everyone.

“Woah, who’s the big plate for?” Shotaro asked with widened eyes.

“Me and Sungchan,” Roxanne said with a satisfied smile, “we’re sharing.”

“Oh… you didn’t tell me you and Sungchan were on good terms now,” you said, breaking your awkward streak of silence, just now recognizing the taller boys face from Roxanne’s phone.

She always talked about Sungchan and his “big stupid dick,” as she liked calling it.

The pair stopped being cool with each other for reasons you don’t really remember anymore, but you’d take her sudden affection towards him over the violence you witnessed during one of her texting fits the other night.

“Shhh,” she giggled, meeting Sungchan on the couch before sitting on his lap, “I hope you don’t mind me feeding you in front of your little friends… unless that makes you shy,” she pouted.

All he did was open his mouth in response, savoring the taste of the first spoon she fed him.

It was a sickeningly cute sight to be honest.

“Sick and twisted,” Shotaro said as if reading your mind.

“Cry about it,” Sungchan joked between a mouth full of saucy rice, heart swelling from the way Roxanne cooed at him.

You and Wonbin were just now making it to the living room after getting some napkins for everyone. There was room left for the two of you on the couch thanks to Roxie sitting on Sungchan’s lap, but that meant you and Wonbin would be sandwiched together in the middle.

Great.

“Come on guys, take a seat,” Roxie said before taking a bite of the food, her teeth grazing the metal fork with a loud scrap.

“God, I hate when you do that,” Sungchan sighed, tickling her sides as she laughed uncontrollably.

“Stop that, asshole, before I drop this food everywhere!”

“That’d be a shame, this chicken is so good,” Wonbin hummed with a nod, stuffing his cheeks with more of the gravy.

“____ made it,” Roxie pitched, giving you a look.

Despite how hard you tried to fight it, you were started to feel pretty awkward.

You knew it had a lot to do with Wonbin, thanks to his cripplingly annoying quirk to not put a damn shirt on.

You did eventually warm up to everyone, even pitching in on some of Sungchan’s dad jokes.

Though, the stack of empty dishes in the center of the living room table seemed more alive than your spirits right now.

The inevitable tiredness that came with staying up late without a phone in your hand started to kick in.

“Hey, I’m gonna go wash up these dishes real quick,” Wonbin said, glancing your way for reasons you almost couldn’t process between the loud laughter of Shotaro and Roxie over whatever dirty joke Sungchan told about SpongeBob and Patrick.

Did he want you to come with him? Alone?

Yes.

By now, Wonbin was no longer in the living room, having walked to the kitchen sink where he proceeded to run soapy dish water.

The scent of lemon wafted through the dimly lit space as you stepped beside him to get the dish towel.

“Sorry,” you said nervously, noticing the way he jumped as your hand grazed his arm slightly.

“It’s alright, you just surprised me,” Wonbin smiled, drying his hands before walking over to the other side of the counter, opening a plastic bag filled with what appeared to be blunt wraps and another bag filled with fluffy green.

“You just leave that stuff out on your counter?,” You asked, voice kind of quiet over the running water.

“Mhm…,” he started, “it’s not like the cops are just gonna raid my house randomly… unless… you were to say something,” he winked, putting a filler along the inside of the wrap before sprinkling in some herb, then tucking it tightly.

“Your secrets safe with me,” you said, the faucet squeaking as you turned the water off.

“____.”

“Yes?” You asked in confusion almost… he was already starting to use your name so normally.

“Pass me that lighter from over there,” he pointed before sticking his tongue out, licking the inner side on the blunt wrap to seal it.

His pretty tongue glistened underneath the kitchen lights, captivating you once again.

Fuck, stop staring, you internally swore at yourself.

He put the blunt between his lips, waiting for you to light the tip. “Stop moving, silly,” you giggled, holding his face in place with your other hand to keep him still as he playfully moved his head around to give you a hard time.

A tiny giggle erupted from his throat, too, making your smile linger for a little longer before he bid his thanks, inhaling a huff of the smoke and exhaling it through his nose.

“Hmmm,” he hummed as he cleared his throat. By now you were leaning against the sink with no intention of washing the dishes any time soon. No intention of leaving the kitchen, either.

“C’mere,” he offered, reaching for your chin in the same way you did to him earlier before inching closer to your face.

“Wonbin-”

“Just part your lips for me, okay?” He asked in a light voice, “I want you to try it with me.”

You nodded at his words, hesitantly parting your lips as he slowly set the blunt between the opening you allowed for him.

“Okay now seal your lips,” he said, licking his own, “and inhale… slowly.”

You obeyed his words, taking a steady breath in as the warm and cloudy smoke filled your mouth… then your stomach… then your senses.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, coughing at the way the smoke hit the back of your throat, to which Wonbin only laughed at your reaction.

“Good job, newbie,” he teased, running you a glass of water before passing it to you, your teary eyes staring back at him in a mix of embarrassment, regret, and intrigue.

“How was hitting it,” he asked, pearly eyes staring back at you.

“Just as bad as I thought,” you admitted.

“Yeah… they effects will start kicking in pretty fast, too,” he chuckled, proceeding to take a huff from the same blunt. “But,” he started, voice falling to an alto, “you know that wasn’t free, right?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, watching as he lazily cradled the joint in his two fingers.

“I only do favors for Roxie because we’re chill like that…,” he paused, biting his lip derisively as he tilted his head, “I hardly know you, though.”

You didn’t even bother checking your pockets because you knew you came empty handed.

“Aww, what is it, baby?,” he cooed, turning your chin to face him again as he took another huff from the joint.

“I didn’t bring any cash with me, unfortunately,” you replied with a halfhearted expression, already feeling yourself get dizzy.

He noticed the way you began to tear up even more from the smoke he was now gently blowing in your face.

“You’re eyes look pretty right now,” he smiled, staring way harder than he should’ve, “how do you feel?”

All of a sudden your core starting to heat up, making your legs feel as though you were merely hovering over the floor. You didn’t feel grounded anymore because you were overcome with a feeling of light.

“A little warm,” you started dryly, “but like… numb and euphoric at the same time.”

“In here?” He asked, placing a hand on your upper stomach, resting dangerously close to your tits.

“No…. It’s uh… a bit lower,” you said, reaching for his wrist before pulling his hand away from you.

That’s when you caught a glimpse of a colorful splash decorating his wrist. “That’s pretty,” you smiled, adoring the tattoo from afar.

“You think so?” He asked sarcastically before whispering in your ear, “too bad compliments won’t pay my bills.”

You sighed at his words, watching as he braced his body weight on the counter before your right hand found a mind of it’s own, reaching out to trace a line up his defined abdomen.

“Then allow me to repay you in another way,” you offered, poking his flesh with your nail a bit, “you like my cooking, don’t you?”

“Very much so, yes. But you could try pleasing me somewhere else… ‘A bit lower,’ like you said,” he whispered seductively, eyes in a daze as he guided your hand by your delicate wrist to the center of his belt buckle, a line of hair leading to the bulge buried behind his baggy jeans.

A thick vein trailed from his thumb to his forearm before his grip left your wrist.

“Wanna take a closer look?” He offered, drawing your attention back to the colorful spot on his skin even though your first mind thought he was talking about something naughtier.

“Sure,” you answered quietly, taking his hand again to examine the design, “a butterfly?”

“A moth, actually… it’s a little more masculine if you ask me,” he added, the shadow of a proud smile ghosting over his lips.

“But it has watercolored eyes,” you pointed out.

“True… So it’s like.. more ambiguous I guess?”

“Maybe… or it could just be a beautiful man,” you voiced, stroking over his skin with the pad of your thumb.

You liked this.

The look of his skin, but more so the way it felt.

The way touching him made you feel.

“Uhmmmm, guys?,” Shotaro cried out from the living room, the energy in his voice breaking the stillness of the moment, “I’m pretty sure Sungchan and Roxie are about to start fucking each other in a few seconds, and I could use a little help in here!”

You and Wonbin made eye contact at Shotaro’s words, the same thought filling both your heads:

“What?”

“Just get in here, quickly! They’re taking each others clothes off!!!”

“FUCK, MY STOMACH still hurts like a bitch from laughing so hard yesterday night,” Roxie sighed, cheeks a flushed hue either from the three shots of brandy she just guzzled or the three comforters she was wrapped in on her side of your shared room.

“Yeah… I had a great time hanging out with everyone,” you said, only half-present as other thoughts floated around in your mind.

Thoughts about when you would get to see Wonbin again?

What you two would even do?

How Roxanne would react if she knew Wonbin had been stuck in your mind like gum on a-

“What the hell are you thinking about?”

Oh shit.

“Uhm… Nothing, why?”

“It’s gotta be something,” Roxie pressed, staring at you from across the room through her false eyelashes, “you were moaning in your sleep last night with that same look on your face.”

Wow. She was quite a fast talker for someone so tipsy.

“I was?”

“Mhm,” she smirked cheekily, trailing a finger along the knitted seam of her bed sheet.

“Tell me who you were thinking about… I’ll know if you’re lying, too,” she pressed.

“I was just… gosh, why is that making me so flustered,” you sighed, hiding your face in your pillows.

“C’mon, spit it out, ____!”

“I was thinking about Wonie, okay?,” you finally admitted, hoping it would make her shut up.

“Hmm…,” she started with a satisfied smirk, “you’ve already starting calling him by a nickname, I see… what’s up with that?”

“Nothing at all,” you smiled aggressively, watching as she spread herself out on the mattress like a star fish, “would you like me to call Sungchan over to keep you company while I’m out?”

“He’s already on his way over, silly,” she smiled, flexing her fingers around nothing, “wait, where are you going, anyway?”

“Nowhere special… probably just gonna talk a walk around campus. But don’t worry, I’ll wait for your boyfriend to get here before I leave.”

She pouted at your words, lower lip poking out like a baby, “Aww… stupid… big dick Sungie’s my boyfriend… ehehe…”

SUNGCHAN SHOWED UP shortly after you managed to get Roxanne back to bed. Praying that they wouldn’t end up fucking in your bedroom while you were gone, you put on a jacket with hopes of taking that walk to clear your head, even though now you simply hit a joint to calm your nerves.

That’s when you heard a pair of footsteps approaching from outside your door, just as you were about to zip up your winter boots.

Knock, knock, knock.

A a warm feeling erupted in your stomach, making your fingers freeze at your ankles.

Standing up to peek through the door-hole, you saw Wonbin’s plump lips first, before his bright brown eyes stared back at you.

Shit, why was he here?

“Hey, I can hear you breathing from behind the door… well, whoever you are,” he giggled, which made you giggle a bit too.

There’s no way you were gonna get out of this now, but you still counted down from ten before opening the door.

“Hi,” you smiled, letting him in, “don’t know how you got on campus, let alone to my dorm room, but okay.”

“I’m friends with Roxie, remember?”

“Yes, but I don’t remember you visiting here before… like, ever.”

Even if he had, it’s not like you’d be able to forget a face or presence like his.

“Nice shirt, by the way,” you teased, poking him in the stomach to which he smiled.

That terribly cute smile of his.

“Yeah I uh… wear them sometimes,” he replied, adjusting the beanie he wore before speaking again, “Where is she, anyway?”

“Pretending to be asleep so I can cuddle with her while she sucks on me… well… not there but… nevermind,” Sungchan interupted, walking from the room with now disheveled hair.

“Hell, I left for like three seconds, what happened,” you asked, observing the fresh purple bruise on Sungchan’s neck.

“Roxie gets unbelievably horny whenever she’s drunk for some reason, and I refuse to do anything with her when half of her mind is on fucking mars,” he sighed, going to the fridge and pulling out a can of soda.

“She’s lucky I let her do this much… Wait- I thought you said you weren’t coming?” Sungchan said to Wonbin with a suspicious look.

So Wonbin was invited to your place. How fun.

“Ahh, I changed my mind out of boredom...”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded while walking to the front door, “I’ve gotta go get a lighter from my truck, but I’ll be back if Roxie asks for me.”

“Hey uh, me and ____ can go get it for you if you want,” Wonbin offered, flashing you a look.

“Really, I mean I parked pretty far away, but-”

“It’s fine, really, I saw where your truck on my way here.“

“____?” Sungchan said your name as if searching for your approval, to which you nodded which a humble, “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Alright then, go ahead. But take your time though so you don’t slip and break your asses…”

WONBIN LOOKED IN the roof compartment of Sungchan’s truck, just as the lighter fell down, slipping between the small crack in the seat.

“Shit,” he cursed upon trying to reach for it, “my hands too big to get it.”

“Hey, I can try getting it for you,” you offered, watching as he made room for you to take his place in the vehicle.

The drawstring of your underwear clinging to your hips as your shirt fell down your waist with gravity.

“Are you wearing a thong?” Wonbin asked, cold index finger hooking with the thin strap of your panties before pulling back and releasing it with a snap.

“Ahh, what the hell, Won!,” You yelped, retreating from the seat to swat his hands from you, “you’re supposed to be helping me!”

“No, we’re supposed to be helping Sungchan. Now get back to work,” he order you playfully, pointing back down to where the lighter fell.

You shook your head, bending back over in an attempt to retrieve the lighter once again.

He was only teasing you because he wanted to see more of your personality.

He couldn’t say that things were moving fast between you thanks to the inevitably awkward grounds your first impression of each other was cultivated upon, but he still wanted to get past the shy stage.

Skip all of the a baby steps and just start running with you.

Weakened grunts fell from your lips as you desperately fished for the lighter, your hips looking a mere second from bursting through your tight jeans given the position you were in.

“Shit,” Wonbin cursed under his breath, feeling a sense of warmth grow on his cheeks as he darted his eyes away from you.

“Oh,” you said with a muffled sounding voice.

“Um, y-yeah? What’s up?” He stuttered, still looking off into the distance.

“I’ve got the lighter… And some spare change,” you chirped, clasping the findings in your hand before reaching a foot down cautiously.

“Isn’t that stealing?” Wonbin teased, finally looking back to only see your foot slipping on the wet condensation from the truck’s running board.

“____, watch your step!” He called out with a slightly raised voice, his hands finding your waist to protect your fall, which only led to you both tumbling down together.

A strained groan erupted from Wonbin’s throat as his back hit the cold hard ground first, your body weight falling onto his center as your hands hit the gravel, slightly scuffing your skin.

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were closed the entire time until you finally opened them, the coins you held being scattered about as Wonbin’s wide bunny eyes scanned you with shock.

His arms framed his head, nose a little red from the weather and a sprinkle of snowflakes dusting his black beanie.

“Are you…are you okay?,” he started, voice trailing off as it finally clicked in his mind that you were straddling him on the ground, essentially in public.

He couldn’t pin a finger on what it was about you that made him feel all shy like this, especially whenever he wasn’t buzzed.

“I-I’m… uh… I’m fine,” you stuttered, freeing him of your body weight and extending a hand to help him up.

“Thank you,” he huffed, a puff of cold air escaping his mouth before circling around your warm bodies, “I told you to watch your step….”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that those stupid coins distracted me,” you shivered, just now feeling the effects of the weather as goosebumps sprouted on your skin, “At least I got the lighter, though!”

Wonbin chuckled, both at your enthusiastic words and the uncanniness of this moment, taking off his beanie and adjusting it over your head before closing the door to Sungchan’s truck, pulling you close to him by the shoulder.

“Alright… let’s get back inside before we both freeze to death.”

AFTER GOING BACK inside, Sungchan had somehow managed to get Roxie out of bed, the four of you sitting on the couch while watching a random movie till midnight.

It all brought you a strange sense of déjà vu. You and Wonbin sitting awkwardly together while Roxie and her Sungchan sat like Siamese twins. The only thing missing, aside from some good home cooked food, was Shotaro’s infectious smile and a recreational drug in your system.

A soul booster.

You had gotten lost in your thoughts again, not even realizing when Roxie kissed Sungchan goodnight before he headed home.

Nor when Wonbin pretended to be sleep so no one would wake him as you slept peacefully on his shoulder.

Nor how he left your side once Roxie went to her room to sleep, reaching for the dust-ridden acoustic guitar hiding in a corner of your loft after a long forgotten ex-roommate left it behind as a “farewell” gift.

Nor the warm and woody melody he started to play from the other end of the couch, the gentle hums from his throat luring your busy mind from its slumber.

Your eyes opened with lazy blinks, vision slowly keening in on the lit joint that hung from his mouth, the sound of his fingers sliding against the fretboard and strings sending shivers down your spine.

Or maybe that had more to do with the winter air thrumming through your dorm room's cheap windows.

From the look outside, you’d guess it was sometime around 1am.

The stars were sparkling in the sky and the world beneath almost dead quiet.

“Oh- sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Wonbin said in a half-whisper, noticing the way you were glancing at him before taking the blunt from his mouth.

“Oh, no… it’s okay, I was just… I didn’t mind…” your words trailed off to a mumble as you sat up a little straighter on the couch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “What song was that? It sounded really pretty from what I heard.”

“Yesterday… by the Beatles,” he smiled, getting up to set the guitar back in its original place of abandonment, “it would’ve sounded even better though if I had a pick with me.”

He took another huff from the blunt, exhaling through his nose in a familiar manner as he offered it to you, “Want some?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking the blunt from his hand before inhaling the herb yourself, though, it was slightly different from the one you had in Wonbin’s kitchen the other night.

“It’s some of Sungchan’s pot,” he said in a husk voice as if reading your mind, “Don’t go too crazy though, ‘cause his shit’s pretty strong.”

He peeked at you through his wavy bangs, waiting for a cough from you that never came.

“Are you buzzed yet?” You asked after taking another huff or two yourself, playing with the smoke in your mouth before blowing it out slowly.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “don’t know how I managed to play a full song, but... yeah... I'm trashed.”

“It must be a talent, I guess,” you hummed at his words, just now noticing the lit candles sitting at random areas in the kitchen and living room.

Good thing, because it helped to drown out the scent of marijuana.

“What else are you good at doing while high?”

His tongue clicked at the roof of his mouth as a subtle yet unmistakable smirk creeped on his face, perfectly matching the rosy hue that began to stain his cheeks.

“You thought of something dirty, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he chuckled, widening the distance between his legs a bit as he sat.

Was he… teasing you?

Your eyes fell down to the blunt he placed on the ashtray beside the table, it’s lit bud ceasing with a quiet hiss.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t free either, huh?” You joked, shaking your head at yesterday's memory.

“Nope,” he smiled, “but… you still haven’t returned the favor from your first hit, so I won’t be too mean for now.”

Of course he’d bring that up again.

Right here, right now as you sat mere inches in distance from each other, both buzzed out of your minds.

“And if you were to be mean,” you started hesitantly, biting your lower lip before continuing, “what would that look like?”

He thought on your words carefully before answering, “Well, I doubt it’ll ever come to that anyway, so don't worry about it.”

“Oh, and is it the weed making you confident all of a sudden?”

“No, just the simple fact that you’ll pretty much do anything I tell you to.”

You scoffed, “That’s crazy talk.”

“Is it?“ he pressed, inching closer to you. "Kiss me,” he said, lips just a gentle wind's push from touching yours.

You didn’t budge, but your heart beat escalated all the same.

“Cute,” he smirked, his large hand finding the length of your neck, gliding up to your jawline as his thumb toyed with your lower lip. “I can see it all over your face that you want me, ____.”

“Then why are you asking for it?,” you teased.

“Because I wanted to hear you say it first… even though I already knew you’d let me do this,” he whispered, closing the space between you with a kiss, his warm mouth engulfing yours as the scent of his woody cologne filled your senses.

His other hand found your lower back, pulling you impossibly close to him as the sound of both your hearts beating and his needy grunts consumed you.

Much like the watercolor moth on his wrist, Wonbin’s gentle and vibrant masculinity couldn’t get any more precious in this moment.

This is exactly what he was looking forward to, whether he decided to guise it under the façade of a favor or be completely straight up with you, he finally got you right where you wanted.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tugged a bit, desperate to hear more of his pretty sounds before the shadow of a smile wavered over Wonbin’s face at your actions, up until he felt your knee bump his hard-on through his pants, causing him to hiss.

“You’re being rough with me,” he said in between kissing your mouth, his hot and thick tongue darting past your lips as the kiss become messier.

Louder.

“And?” You asked, pulling away from his lips before leaving a trail of wetness down his neck, paying extra attention to a spot that made him twitch in his seat.

“And it’s so fucking hot,” he almost moaned when your teeth grazed his skin, his back meeting the couch arm as you subconsciously grinded your hips against his pants, straddling him.

“Is this how you wanted me earlier,” you said, stopping your movements, “when we were outside in the cold?”

By now his shirt was off and your fingers unbuckling his belt with gentle clinking sounds from the metal.

“No,” he said in an impossibly deep voice, looking dead at you as he spoke, “My first mind wanted to fuck you silly in the backseat… but I couldn’t to that to you.”

You giggled at his choice of words given how high you were, shimmying his pants down a bit further before halting at the waistband of his boxers, palming him gently through the fabric.

“Why not?” You asked in a soft voice, contrasting with the fierce grip you had on his clothed shaft.

“Because... even though you’re being an impossible tease right now, I felt like you deserved better than to be fucked in your best friends boyfriend's truck,” he said with a shaky voice, gripping at the couch to contain himself.

You appreciated his consideration in your heart, but didn’t wanna say anything out loud, especially not while your hands were on him like this.

And thank God for these thick curtains, otherwise the whole world would’ve seen how red his throbbing tip looked after finally being freed from the restrictions of his boxers.

You started at the base of his length before gliding upwards, spitting on the head that was already leaking a bit of his early release.

You started to pump him slowly, pearly white precum standing out as it mixed with your clear spit like watercolor.

“Use your mouth for me,” he almost begged, eyes falling victim to a blurry haze as his knuckles turned white with his grip on the cushions.

You teased him a bit by letting your warm breath ghost over his tip, eliciting a groan from him as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

The desperation inside of him only grew from here as your warm and wet lips finally wrapped around him.

You hollowed your cheeks a bit, hands resting at either side of his hips as you began using your tongue to help you take him inch by inch.

“Mmm, feels so fucking good, baby,” he said with a strained voice, his hands finding your head before his thumbs grazed your lips, one of them prying to squeeze itself into your mouth with his already thick cock.

The sight alone was enough to make him buss, so he threw his head back, biting his lip harshly to contain his sounds.

You hummed against his dick, almost feeling it in your chest once his hands pushed your head down further.

He just couldn’t deal with your teasing anymore, wanting to feel you more than he could begin to explain.

He bucked his hips upwards, rutting into your mouth like a bunny in heat. “Aww, fuck,” he cursed, watching the way your eyes glazed with tears.

He always managed to see you crying one way or another, and he loved it every single time.

Your fingernails dug into his sides as the sound of your gagging became hard to miss. He released your head with a sigh, panting as both of your faces burned with heat.

He didn’t expect you to start pumping him again though as soon as your mouth left his cock, but you knew he’d end up missing your warmth in seconds anyways.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean when I did that, by the way,” he sighed, biting his lip as you looked back at him with moist eyelashes, “I just couldn’t hold bac- nghhh~.”

A broken moan escaped his mouth once your hands found his balls, gently cradling them in your hands while alternating with pressures, your other hand still stroking him.

“I’m doing quite the favor for you, Wonbin,” you said with a rasp voice, your throat a bit sore from his actions on top of the smoke you huffed earlier, but he figured it made you sound hotter anyway. “Are you sure I’m not overdoing it?”

“Mmm… no, p-please don’t stop, baby,” he whimpered shamelessly, screwing his eyebrows tightly.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the nickname, and judging from the way his face changed, you’d bet he noticed.

By now, he could hardly keep still, the muscles in his stomach flexing just as you felt his balls tighten, just as he was finished, chest heaving with need as you rode out his high.

That's when you started to take off your jeans, tossing them in the corner somewhere as he practically drooled at the sight of you in just a baggy top and panties, a dark spot forming at the center of your core where your arousal started to leak through.

“____,” he paused you, bringing you into his lap, your warm core sitting right atop his aching hardness, “you don’t have to go this far if you don’t want to.”

“Well maybe this isn’t just about me owing you anymore,” you whispered, kissing him on the corner of his mouth, “what if I want this?”

His cock stimulated you through your panties as he thought on your words, subconsciously rocking your hips back and forth.

“Then I’ll let you have your way with me…” he said with a rasp whisper, kissing up your neck as one of his hands massaged your tits, his other hand sneaking past your underwear to find your soaking wet clit, rubbing it slowly but with such a pressure that your fingers clung to his broad shoulders.

“I want you to make me feel like I’m falling apart,” he groaned against your skin, spreading your slick all over your aching pussy lips, “I want you to ruin me.”

You didn't waste any time with aligning him at your entrance, sliding down with ease most of the way given how wet you were.

He groaned as your tight walls fully consumed him.

“Fuck~,” you whined, feeling euphorically full as he started thrusting into you, hands gripping at your back as he became overstimulated inside you.

The drugs must've made you feel extra sensitive, especially with the way his tip fucked against your g-spot. You looked into his teary eyes, stoking his face as you helped to bounce with his movements, lewd sounds bouncing off of the walls.

“You’re being so fucking good for me, baby, just like that," he moaned as you clenched around him, too high to give a damn about filling you up raw with thick spurts of his cum.

“Wonie,” you whimpered, feeling as his hands roamed all over your climaxing body.

You felt every part of him in every part of you, and to say the least, it was worth all the awkward moments it took to get here.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up with your head resting on Wonbin’s chest, his messy hair spread about his head as you felt his breath faintly on your head. You probably looked like two babies with the way you were cuddling each other under the blanket.

It was a sickeningly cute sight, one might say.

“Sick and twisted,” you heard Shotaro say in the back of your mind, just as Wonbin groaned beneath you with a cat-like yawn.

“I still feel high,” was the first thing he said, making you giggle a little more than necessary before looking him in the face, the effects of your night together ever-present on his face.

“I feel…good,” you smiled.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hummed back, peeling yourself from his body as you blinked the tiredness from your eyes.

“You can keep a secret, right?” He asked hesitantly, voice barely audible given how quietly he spoke.

“With my whole life,” you answered, now making eye contact with him which was surprisingly way easier to do than a day ago.

He found your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “We should do each other favors more often… but… maybe not call it that.”

Was he initiating a sexual relationship with you?

Maybe something more?

“Well…” you started curiously, “what would you wanna call it instead, then?”

A grin peeped on his face that quickly softened when he licked his lips, giving your hand a squeeze once again before parting his lips to speak. “Maybe-”

“Fuck,” Roxanne sighed with annoyance, “you horny ducks didn’t blow my candles out last night… now the wax is no good,” she sulked.

“Oh, s-sorry about that, Roxie, we were smoking and it helped the smell,” Wonbin answered first.

“… wait, did you just call us horny ducks?” You asked with a mix of confusion, offense, and realization.

She heard you two.

Hell, of course she did.

“What? You think I didn’t hear Wonbin and his vocal ass practically singing as you did… whatever you did to him…?,” She rambled on, washing her hands in the sink before pulling some from produce from the fridge.

“Oh my God,” Wonbin cringed at himself, covering his face with his hands, though his ears were clearly burning red now.

“The blanket… you brought it in here, didn’t you,” you asked her, just now noticing that it was one she kept at the end of her bed.

“Yep! You’re welcome, freaks,” she chirped through a mouthful of raw celery, drawing your attention to the knife and cutting board she handled, “I’m gonna need your help soon though, ____. We're cooking for a mini get-together later with Taro and Sungchan.”

You hummed at her words, folding up the blanket while thankful that despite how high you two were last night, you managed to put your clothes back on before the sun came up.

“You guys should get cleaned up first, too, by the way,” she said, side-eyeing you as she diced a few green onions. “And preferably not at the same time, please... I’ve heard enough moans for the rest of this week, thanks to you two.”

⚡︎ a/n: I just wanna say thank you to everyone who read this goofy lil piece I wrote !! It's been a while since I wrote something that wasn't requesting, and I had so much fun getting back in my creative mode again !! Hopefully you guys enjoyed it as much as I did huhu !!

📍 check out my NEW RIIZE masterlist

⚡︎ tag list: @ashgonedash @jaylaxies @fakeuwus @ot7sevenlvr @nqvgue @riizebinnie @cherriruto @sungbbinieworld @kvstjwonnie @yjshannie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @nikisdubblchococake @babigriin @greasywall @snrrpyzen @squoxle @wonbinkisser @quirkymoon @bominute @serenityqtz @bahraini-aphrodite @jewjewbee04 @minslatte @svtf1lms @suquitoz @hyunilinia @yeonkis @pixiewoni @loljungwon @sunwonkiworld @iizanaa @bambseung @deadpool15 @s1eepyanahi @wearscvn @spkyfy @urfavmommy @anna-357j @numberonetaleprince @write4cench @choqolei @zhonglele02 @xenkimmie @whoslio @leeknow-minho2 @songbird033

hmm? 🌱

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pairing: neighbor!wonbin x f!reader

genre: neighbors to lovers, babysitting!au (kinda)

warnings: reader has a baby brother, mentions of reader blushing, 2k

a/n: my first riize fic ^^ i hope yall enjoy this hehe

back to masterlist !

“you know, you shouldn’t even be here right now.”

“yn.”

wonbin’s tone is stern and you cross your arms, letting out a loud huff to show your discontentment. from your position in the kitchen, you can stare at your neighbor-turned-babysitter all day, but you’re currently angry, so you opt to pout and grumble instead.

you can clearly hear wonbin sigh in defeat and you watch him lean back on his arms on the floor from the corner of your eye. he’s a few feet away from your little brother, giving him enough space to draw in his coloring book.

the handsome boy (you’re angry, but not blind) turns to you, black hair perfectly framing his stupidly pretty face. your eyes fall to his lips for a second. one second too long apparently because soon he starts to grin and you have no other option than to look away and pout again.

a chuckle leaves his mouth and it annoys you more than it should.

he tilts his head a bit and looks at you, eyes raking over your casual outfit. you’re really trying to not look his way, simply because you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing your attention is on him but you’re still curious as to why he seems more concentrated on you than on his job.

don’t look.

your hand covers your mouth as you spin your pen with your fingers, swiftly clicking on it before writing a new sentence in your notebook, elbow propped up on the kitchen island.

all the while you flip a few pages in your textbook to get to a new chapter of history, wonbin hums, high fiving your brother when the latter shows him his colorful drawing.

you swear you’re not paying attention, but the way you can hear him smiling as he speaks softly makes your face burn, ears turning red. he’s good with kids, and although you’re supposed to be pissed at your parents– and thus him– you can’t help but admit he’s doing a good job.

you would have done a good job too, you tell yourself.

your hand stills over the counter, pen inches away from the paper. in not even one second, you went from being productive and finally getting some homework done to thinking about wonbin and his pretty eyes.

you hate this, because you swear you’re angry at him. or at least you’re supposed to.

deep down you know that the so-called hatred you have for him right now is a way to stop you from thinking about what you really feel for your neighbor.

gosh, his eyes are just so pretty.

maybe you’re overreacting a bit too. maybe you’re being a bit dramatic, because the way wonbin starts to frown as he notices your brows furrow makes your heart throb.

you had decided to sit at the kitchen island to do your homework, because the kitchen table seemed a bit too close to the living room. but now that you’re actually in the kitchen, you realize you’re facing him (and your little brother, of course) and if you’d even look up for one second, eye contact would be guaranteed.

this sucks, you think, as you slide off the barstool and wander deeper into the kitchen. maybe if you’d fake looking for something to eat in the fridge, he would finally look away.

without really being thirsty, you grab the first carton you find and move to pour yourself a glass of whatever said carton contains. ah, apple juice it is.

you think you’re finally starting to get more comfortable in your own home after wonbin’s arrival but then he lets out a giggle– one that you find absolutely adorable too– and your lips freeze on the brim of your glass, head snapping towards the living room. “what.” you almost bark out, eyes fierce.

“it’s nothing,” wonbin has to swallow a laugh and divert his eyes, waving his hand in front of his. “don’t worry about it!”

you put your glass down on the counter and put a hand on your hip, eyes big and confused. “tell me,” you just watch as he lets out another giggle at your desperate tone, “c’mon! i’m gonna think you’re making fun of me if you don’t tell me.”

“your slippers,” this time wonbin looks at you, really looks at you. he sees how your eyes go wide and how your nose twitches in surprise. he sees how your lips fall open and gape at him and he sees how eyelashes flutter when you blink rapidly. he speaks up again, still looking at you, “they’re cute.” you’re cute.

“ah,” you nod, a bit surprised.

“you can compliment me back, y’know”

“i can literally kick you out right now.”

wonbin only puts his two hands up, a teasing smile clear on his lips as he admits defeat.

–

it’s slowly getting darker outside, the sun disappearing behind the houses in your neighborhood.

you’re on the last page of your essay when wonbin closes the living room curtains and finally agrees to your brother’s request of watching his favorite film. you find it rather domestic, how he’d hauled your brother from the floor to the couch and how he’d draped your blanket over the both of them.

the disney film is on pause as your brother babbles about his classmates, excitedly recounting yesterday’s events. you go to turn on the stove to prepare dinner and smile to yourself when your brother mentions the solar planet you had helped him make for his science fair. you smile even bigger when wonbin applauds him and makes him promise to show him one day, because he has to see how good you two are (his words).

when the water is boiling in the pot and you’ve stacked and pushed aside all your school work to prepare for dinner, you don’t directly realize you set the table for three until wonbin points it out, leaning casually against the fridge.

“i didn’t know i was invited for dinner.”

you shrug in an effort to act as casual as he is, but it comes off as rather stiff so you just turn away, mindlessly stirring the pasta. “well, i wouldn’t want you to starve. who else would my parents turn to when they’re in need of a babysitter?” certainly not me.

you’re clearly still a bit bitter that your parents don’t trust you to babysit your own brother.

wonbin just laughs, like he’s having the most fun knowing you’re irritated at him for replacing your “part-time job”. you send him a nasty glare and it only makes him chuckle more, obviously entertained by your displeasure.

he goes to lean on the counter next to you as he watches you do your magic, as per your brother’s words, and lightly bumps his elbow into yours. “c’mon, i know you’re not really mad at me for being here.”

you flick his crossed arms and check to see if the pasta is not overcooked. “i just don’t understand why they’d waste money to get a babysitter for him when i literally exist and live here!” okay, so maybe you’re not being hundred percent honest and are more pissed about the babysitter being wonbin than the waste of money but he doesn’t have to know that.

wonbin continues to stare at your face, tracing your side profile with his eyes. “i offered to babysit, and your dad knows i’ve been saving up for a car...” his smile is teasing when he shrugs as you send him a glare.

“and what if i was saving up for a car? you’d be ruining my chances to do so.” you’re stubborn and not letting go.

your neighbor, who’s actually way too close to you for your liking (you’re sure he can count your beauty marks with how close he is) stifles a laugh. “we both know you’re not saving up for a car,” his voice insists on the ‘not’ and you know he sees you rolling your eyes. “besides, you don’t need one.”

the pasta looks good as you go to grab two oven mitts, glancing at wonbin from the corner of your eye. you’re confused and he knows because not even a second later and he’s grabbing the oven mitts from your hands and carrying the pasta to the kitchen table. “i can always just drive you around, y’know. contrary to what you think, i do actually enjoy your presence, babe.”

when his words register in your brain, you can’t seem to move from your spot in the kitchen and wonbin finds it all too cute, smiling while ushering your little brother to sit at the end of the table.

babe. babe? “babe?” your fingers find wonbin’s hand, wrapping slowly around his wrist when he walks past you to get some glasses. he stops in his tracks, tilting his head a bit and smirking at your surprised gaze and vulnerable tone.

he just nods, the top of his cheeks blushing only for a fraction of a second. unbeknownst to you, his heart is beating like crazy. “shouldn’t i have called you that? you don’t like it?”

you shake your head, still startled from him calling you by an affectionate nickname, something he had never done before and something you would have never guessed he would ever do.

“It’s alright,” you say, voice suddenly shakier than usual, “i didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

your fingers let go of his wrist but he doesn’t directly move away, staring at the way your other hand is holding tightly onto the kitchen counter. he notices how you’re reaching for the utensils but your mind is focusing on something else, your fingers absentmindedly pulling the kitchen drawer open.

suddenly, wonbin feels a pang of guilt. he can’t seem to decipher what the expression on your face means but he’s worried he might have gone too far, or that you’re too far gone in your head.

“hey,” his voice startles you out of your thoughts, “are you sure it’s okay? i can stop if you want–”

“no!-” your panicked tone startles him a bit and you clear your throat, fiddling with one of the rings on your fingers, “i mean, i– i didn’t mind it? i quite liked it.”

wonbin’s eyes widen a bit, surprised but thrilled. “oh.”

“yeah.”

the short awkward silence between the two of you gets interrupted by your younger brother’s complaints, and you quickly move past wonbin to serve the youngest one in the house a big plate of spaghetti (his favorite).

it’s only when you’re seated at the table that you realize wonbin’s marched over and took your plate, serving you before him. he looks almost ethereal under the warm kitchen lights and you can’t help but stare, this time not caring about getting caught.

the pasta looks extra good when he puts your plate down in front of you and your stomach grumbles at the sight, earning a slight chuckle from the boy in front of you.

your baby brother’s focus is entirely on his dinosaur shaped fork, which wonbin takes as an opportunity to reach over the table and grab your hand, drawing a stifled gasp out of you. his thumb is rubbing circles on the back of your palm and your hand feels heavy but comfortable in his grasp.

your gaze travels from your intertwined fingers to his face and you almost melt at the soft look in his eyes. it almost looks like he’s in love.

he is, but you don’t know that. yet.

“let me take you out on a date, please.”

the way his voice gets stuck in his throat and his tone gets breathier tells you everything you have to know and you squeeze his hand lightly in a comforting manner. he anxiously bites the inside of his cheek while he waits for your answer and he’s glad you don’t see his leg bouncing up and down under the table.

“i would love to, wonbin.” your cheeks turn red and your lips automatically curl, revealing the smile wonbin likes so much.

the stress leaves his body the second the words leave your mouth and he suppresses a nervous laugh, free hand coming up to push his hair back.

“yeah?”

“of course,” your smile is contagious when you nod, “how could i say no to you?”

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beautiful stranger (kim sungho)

a beautiful stranger has come to save the day!

sungho x gn!reader (college au) 

word count: 4.5k 

genre + warnings: one (1) pinch of angst, cursing, written in all lowercase, a really really really bad date (it’s a random dude dw), sungho is pining badddd!

a/n: biggest sungho brainrot in the woooorrrrld!!!!!shoutout my babygirl jas for giving me the inspo for this <3 (and beta reading as always :3) this was heavily based on beautiful stranger by laufey!  i'd suggest listening to it before/while reading ^_^

dating felt like a hassle. it wasn’t that you weren’t looking for a relationship– if anything, you were more of a hopeless romantic than anything else. pinterest boards full of couple poses you only dreamt of remaking with your partner when you finally had the opportunity to, a page in your notes app dedicated to sweet date ideas, countless playlists full of love songs you’d want to be posted to one day. instead, each failed date chipped away the hope you once held about being in love. 

it was hard to blame yourself for the disappointment you felt every time you had to restart the cycle of getting to know a potential love interest. how many times could you talk about trivial matters you’ve discussed with people who ultimately end up leaving your life? what’s your favorite color? do you have any pets? did you play any sports in high school? it was repetitive, redundant, and utterly boring, to say the least. 

living in a college town didn’t help either. college students seemed to thrive on the idea of a temporary fling– something “casual” is what they liked to call it. you, on the other hand, could not fathom the idea of love being “casual”. relationships seemed to work backwards; it was nothing like what you grew up seeing in the movies. hooking up amidst a drunken haze, waking up the next morning with fuzzy memories of the person you shared an intimate night with. only then do people decide whether or not their one-night-stands are “worth” getting to know properly. everything was so… wrong. 

coming to university made you realize that trying to perpetuate your idea of romance would be difficult, especially when nobody seemed to take anything seriously anymore. but the hopeless romantic in you would never back down– you were determined to experience something at least remotely similar to the type of love you saw on TV in your last years as a student. so here you were, all dolled up, waiting to meet a guy you’ve been talking to for the past two weeks.

you met on a dating app, having swiped right after laughing at one of his prompts. sometimes, you were ashamed to admit you even bothered making a profile, but it felt like your last resort at this point. his name was minwoo, a graphic design major just one year above you. strictly based on his profile, he seemed sweet. unlike many others you’ve seen on the app, his pictures weren’t too flashy. almost too normal, even. your conversations were surprisingly more mentally stimulating than you’d expected from a dating app, which gave you some hope. at least he was capable of talking to someone like a normal human being, right? 

minwoo asked you on a date soon after you first exchanged numbers, but schedule conflicts on both ends kept pushing it further and further away. despite all the obstacles, he still seemed interested. this was uncommon amongst the men you met on there, finding that most of them would ghost you if you weren’t willing to come see them merely days after matching. probably just losers looking for a quick hook-up. maybe this time, the dating-app gods decided it was time to give you someone good. 

you agreed to meeting him only after making sure it would take place in the middle of the day in a public location on campus, where you knew it’d be safe. minwoo didn’t seem to mind, rather going along with whatever you said without complaint. you suggested a bakery that you frequented– the location was popular among students for their cheap drinks and cozy atmosphere that made a perfect spot to settle down and study for hours. being a regular there meant you were familiar with the workers, which gave you comfort knowing you had a familiar face nearby in case the date went south. 

you’re pleased to see other familiar faces when you first walk through the bakery’s entrance– finding strangers you’ve seen before doing work on their laptops or enjoying an afternoon pastry. you got there 10 minutes earlier than your set meeting time, in an attempt to avoid an awkward meeting outside. first dates always make you nervous; not to mention the fact that this was a stranger you found on a dating app. what if you’re nothing like your pictures? will the conversations flow as well as they do through text? hell, what if you got catfished? 

you push away your thoughts, regaining your composure as you take out a compact mirror from your bag to retouch your makeup. each time the chime above the door jingled, you found yourself turning to see if it was minwoo. it was now 2:13pm, almost fifteen minutes after you agreed to meet. you place your hands neatly in your lap, observing your surroundings briefly. 

you share a fleeting moment of eye contact with a man by himself at a table by the wall, holding his page in the novel he was holding. you recognized him as another regular, having seen him occasionally when you’d stop by for a coffee. he was wearing a denim baseball hat, which covered most of his face. he gives you a small smile, but you pull your gaze away quickly. you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at the fact that you were sitting alone in the middle of the store, sitting at an empty table because you refrained from ordering something before minwoo got there. 

truthfully, sungho had seen you there before. to him, you were nothing more than a beautiful stranger, one he had the pleasure of seeing more often than not when he would show up to his local bakery. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to the chance of seeing you every time he came in, sometimes even going as far to dress a little better if he felt like you’d be there that day. he was a bit shy to admit that he’d memorized your order with how often you showed up, hearing the baristas call out the drink and watching you pick it up. even he thought it was a little creepy, but it’s not like he’d ever act on his attraction, right? 

hm, maybe they’re waiting for someone? sungho thinks to himself, completely forgetting about the book he was previously reading. makes sense for someone as breathtaking as you to be in a relationship. he finds himself a bit disappointed as he sinks into his seat slightly. he’s brought out of his thoughts as the familiar bells above the door ring again, signaling a new customer. a sleazy looking guy walks in, and he watches as you perk up at the sight. that’s the guy you’re meeting? sungho’s annoyed at the way your date is dressed in sweatpants and a worn out band tee when your hair is done to perfection to match the cute outfit you had on. 

you promptly stand up as minwoo looks around the bakery for where you were, motioning for him to come over to your table. you feel a bit overdressed now that you see what he’s wearing. once he sees you, he smiles as he gives you an awkward side hug. first dates are always awkward like this, you shouldn’t mark it off as a disaster just yet. 

“it’s nice to finally meet you, yunjin!” what? 

“ah, it’s Y/N, actually.” you awkwardly laugh, hoping he was just making an off- putting joke. surely he wouldn’t get your name wrong.

“pfft, yeah i was just kidding! yunjin’s my mom’s name.” you raise your eyebrow at the comment, finding it weird to think that he’d go on a date with someone with the same name as his mother. “is this place any good?” 

“yeah! i go here a lot, actually. they make all the pastries in the back, so you know they’re gonna be tasty.” minwoo merely nods at your comment, walking over to the counter to order. you follow behind him, looking at all the cake slices on display once you get there. 

you smile at the person behind the register. they give you a quizzical look, side-eyeing the guy next to you. you were normally alone, so it was odd to see someone with you this time around. you shrug nonchalantly and hold in a giggle, glad that minwoo was too busy looking at the menu to see your interaction. 

“i’ll have an iced coffee… and get me one of those croissants over there.” minwoo orders rudely, speaking too fast for the worker to tap in the order on the screen. you watch as they frantically press buttons on the screen, waiting for them to finish before you say your regular order. 

once the barista looks up at you, you open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off. “and for you, a small caramel macchiato, right?” you beam back at them, finding it sweet to think they know your order by heart. 

“you got it! i think that’ll be it for us today, thank you!” the total shows up on the small screen in front of you, card reader lighting up as it waits for payment. you turn to look at your date, expecting him to pull out his wallet to pay, but his hands are resting firmly in his pockets as he looks around the rest of the bakery. you send a sorry look to the worker for the hold-up before you take your card from your purse and tapping it on the reader. it’s not that you cared much about who paid, but rather the fact that he didn’t even try to do so rubbed you the wrong way. 

“thank you! we’ll bring it to you once it’s done.” minwoo’s already on his way back to the table before the receipt is printed. your lips pursed as you take the piece of paper and shove it into your purse, thanking the worker once more.

sungho can’t help but notice the way you look defeated as you walk back to the table alone. maybe it isn’t your boyfriend. what kind of man makes you pay on a date? he scoots his chair a bit closer to your table, glad he was sitting somewhat close to yours. a little eavesdropping wouldn’t hurt anyone. he was just curious, that’s all. 

“sorry, i left my wallet at my dorm.” minwoo explains to you sheepishly. first, he shows up late without apology or explanation. next, you’re called the wrong name. then, he makes you pay for his order. it can only get better from here, right? 

“ah, it’s no worries!” you lie– everything he’s done so far has done nothing but raise red flags in your head, but you remain optimistic. you place your hands on the table, waiting for him to start up the conversation… except, he doesn’t. instead, he’s on his phone tapping away, presumably texting someone. it must be urgent if he needs to reply right then and there, right in front of you. 

you clear your throat, which makes him look up from his screen. “so, you’re in graphic design right?” it’s a topic you didn’t discuss much in your texts, so you felt like it would be a good way to break the ice. 

“eh, yeah. honestly, it’s kind of a joke major,” he comments dryly. his attention is entirely on his phone. 

“what made you pick it then?” you’re desperately trying to keep up the topic. 

“well, my friend said it was easy. plus, i play a lot of video games so i thought it’d be pretty cool.” he picked his major… because it was easy? minwoo continues texting away, when suddenly he scoffs at what he’s reading. “gosh, this bitch…” 

you’re completely flabbergasted at this point. “excuse me?” is he talking to you? sungho’s equally as shocked at his words, letting out a gasp when he hears what minwoo said. 

“sorry, my sister’s just asking me to pick up something on my way home.” 

“oh, i see.” now would be a good time for your drinks to arrive– you weren’t sure what to say anymore. if anything, you weren’t sure if you wanted to keep up a conversation with someone who spoke about his family in such a way. “...i thought you said you lived in the dorms, though?” 

“ah, did i? i live at home with my family.” you tilt your head at him in confusion. you were certain he said he lived in the dorms just seconds ago. it was a weird thing to lie about. why bluff about something so trivial? 

“here are your drinks!” a different worker from before comes up to your table with a tray, placing your order in the middle of the table. minwoo immediately reaches for his own, drinking from the straw before gagging at the taste. 

“hey, this is so bitter. is this how you guys normally make it?” the boy is clearly flustered, looking back and forth between you two. “there’s no way this place takes that long to make an iced coffee if it tastes like this!” you notice the way he’s struggling to answer minwoo’s outburst. 

sungho rolls his eyes. he hasn’t looked at his book in ages, finding your date far more interesting. has this douche never been to a coffee shop before?

“it’s supposed to be like that, yeah. we have sugar in the corner for customers to adjust the sweetness themselves.” the worker explains calmly, motioning to the coffee station by the garbage. he was one of the newer hires, but he resolved the situation well. 

minwoo takes his drink, clearly annoyed as he goes to add sugar. you quickly apologize for his behavior once he’s gone, and the worker gives you a face of understanding before taking the tray back to the kitchen. 

you take a sip from your own drink, finding it made to perfection, as usual. even when you first tried their iced coffee, you can’t recall it being that bad. at least, not gross enough to make a scene. glancing at your watch, you noticed it’s only been twenty minutes since minwoo arrived. it felt like you were there for hours– in the worst way possible. 

minwoo returns to his seat, seemingly satisfied with his coffee now. “i can’t believe they sell shit like this. what’s the point of buying it if i have to make it myself?” he was so… pretentious. it was annoying. 

“i mean, not everyone likes their drinks sweet, so i think it makes sense-” 

minwoo puts his hand in front of your face to shut you up. “well, i do. they should just do it right the first time.” 

you lean back, shocked at the way he nearly hit you with his movements. “it’s not like they know how your preferences.”

“jesus Y/N, you sound like my ex right now!”

“...your ex?” maybe you weren’t the most well-versed when it came to dating, but you knew better than to mention other people to the person you were currently talking to. 

“yeah, my ex was like, batshit crazy. she would always be on my ass about how often i’d go out to the bars with my friends, it was ridiculous! a guy just needs to have fun sometimes, right?” there wasn’t anything explicitly wrong with wanting to go party with your friends, but why did he need to do all that if he was in a relationship? to you, it felt like a valid thing to be angry about. if it was something severe enough for her to lash out on him like that, it must’ve been serious. you can’t find it in you to blame the poor girl, especially if she had to put up with his immaturity all the time.

you don’t have anything to say as you swirl the drink around in your cup, watching as the foam on top melts into the rest of it. this was a disaster. you should’ve known something was wrong with the way minwoo felt like an entirely different person upon meeting. he was nothing like the seemingly kind boy you were texting for the past two weeks. 

suddenly, his phone vibrates on the table. he quickly picks it up before you can see who’s calling, already out of his chair. “sorry, i need to answer this– it’s my sister. i’ll be right back.” minwoo unlocks his phone to answer, his tone much sweeter than it was when he was speaking to you. 

you watch as he walks out the door to take the call outside. suspicion brewed in your gut as you think about what just happened. earlier, he was cursing out his sister, but now he’s smiling on the phone with her? something told you it wasn’t actually his sister calling. 

sungho doesn’t know what gets into him when he finds himself springing to his feet, heading over to your table. in a time like this, he’s grateful that he managed to pick up on your name thanks to the workers. “Y/N, right? this probably isn’t my place, but are you dating that guy?”

you immediately shake your head no, almost disgusted at the thought of being in a relationship with someone like minwoo. 

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s obnoxiously loud. if the music was any quieter, everyone could hear the way he’s acting like an asshole.” your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thankful that most of the people in there were too focused with their own business to listen in on your horrendous date. 

“yeah, he’s definitely… something. it’s my first time meeting this guy, sorry to bother you over there.” you bow your head slightly, flustered to think that you were burdening one of the regulars by bringing your no-good-date to your favorite bakery.

“it’s your first time meeting and he’s like that?” the stranger lets out a huff of disbelief. “you’re free to say no, but… do you need help? i can pretend to be your friend or something so we can get out of here.” his eyes are full of concern. you’re taken aback at the stranger’s act of kindness, but thankful nonetheless. 

“i’m alright, i think. he was a lot nicer over text, so maybe he just needs to warm up to me or something?” 

the man’s displeased with your response; he would’ve rather you walk out on the date right there. “...okay. i’m sungho, by the way. my seat’s just over there, so just give me a look if you need saving.” sungho returns to his table, looking at you before he picks up his book again and pretends to read. 

“listen, she really wants me to come home soon, so i might have to leave in an hour or so.” one more hour spent with this weirdo. you don’t think you could last another ten minutes. 

“that’s fine, i understand it’s something important!” you’re unsure how you maintain such a cheerful act when it feels like your date lied about who he was on the phone with just moments ago. 

“so, are you doing anything later?” he places his phone face down on the table before leaning back in his chair. this was the first time his attention is entirely on you, but after everything you’ve seen, you’re immediately turned off. 

“probably going to work on some papers i have coming up, i’m pretty swamped right now when it comes to my assignments.” you didn’t actually have anything urgent you needed to work on, but you didn’t want to make yourself available for whatever he was about to propose.

“that’s a shame. i was planning on going out to the new club that opened a couple streets down,” minwoo pouts at you, making you groan in disgust internally. “you’re nice and all, but i can’t help thinking about what you’d really be like once you got some alcohol in ya!” 

“oh… what’s wrong with the way i’m acting now?” 

“well, not that there’s anything bad about you, you just seem a bit… uptight! i was just saying you need to loosen up bit. maybe all that coursework has you pent up, if you know what i mean.” you shiver at his implications. minwoo places his sweaty fingers atop yours, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. you try to pull away, but he keeps his grip firm as he smirks at you. 

you quickly glance over to sungho, finding that he was already looking at you, waiting for your signal of help. you bite your lip slightly before giving him a small nod. sungho takes his hat off, finally giving you a proper look at him as he runs his hand into his hair. he’s quick to close his book and tuck it under his arm, making his way over to your table in a few long strides. 

“Y/N? what are the chances i run into you here!” he sounds genuinely happy to see an old friend, placing his palm on your shoulder reassuringly as he takes his place beside you. sungho’s so good at the bit, you’re convinced he might be an acting major. “actually, leehan said he found your lab report in the library just now. didn’t we need to turn that in yesterday?” his words are urgent as he shows you random messages on his phone. it was leehan who he was texting, but the contents of their messages weren’t remotely related to his made-up story. 

“fuck, i totally forgot about that,” you place your hand on your forehead, feigning stress over your fake lost assignment. “minwoo, it’s been really nice meeting you, but my entire grade relies on getting that report in, so i might have to leave earlier than expected…”

“oh, really? i haven’t turned in any of my assignments in weeks!” you hold yourself back from rolling your eyes; of course he was a shitty student to top it all off. he was probably on the verge of getting kicked out for his bad habits. 

“Y/N, leehan just said he needs to go to class soon, we might want to go now before he has to leave.” 

“shit, actually?” sungho nods eagerly, making it seem like you urgently need to leave. “i’m so sorry about this minwoo, i should get going.”

“okay, i’ll text you later then?” you hum in response, grabbing your belongings as sungho is practically pushing you away from the table and towards the exit. he holds the door open for you as you step outside, heading in the opposite direction of the store. 

“are you really going to text him later?” sungho’s walking beside you as you count the cracks in the sidewalk. 

you let out a pitiful laugh at the silly question. “god, no. there’s no way i’m going to be in contact with that freak any time soon.” 

“good. anyone could see he was a piece of shit.” his words stung a bit; you felt humiliated. to think that you genuinely thought minwoo might be your chance at a college romance, yet you needed to be saved by a stranger. your judge of character might be worse than you think.

you find yourself at a nearby park far away from the bakery, sitting idly at the swingset. your savior is still with you, an empty swing between you as he kicks the pebbles on the ground. you’re not sure why he’s still there, but you’re comforted by his company in the aftermath. 

why is dating so hard? you curse yourself for not seeing this outcome sooner. there really wasn’t any way you could’ve predicted minwoo would act like that– in a way, it feels like your fault. maybe you weren’t the type of person people would want to date. maybe there was no chance of you finding someone good to settle down with before you graduated. did it have to do with you? maybe it wasn’t the dating culture holding you back. you don’t know why your eyes begin to well up, but you stifle back your sniffles as a tear falls into your lap. 

sungho immediately picks up on your emotions. he doesn’t normally know what to do in situations like this, but he’s sure he wants to comfort you. “hey, hey… are you crying?” he moves to kneel down in front of you. 

he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, offering it out to you. you quickly take it, looking away as you dab at your eyes. “fuck, this is so embarrassing.” you force out a laugh, trying to make light of the situation.

“it’s not embarrassing,” sungho pauses for a moment as he thinks about what to say. “sometimes people don’t turn out to be how you think they are.” sungho wants to slap himself for struggling to find the words he wants to tell you.

“i guess, but i’m sitting here crying in front of a stranger.” you look down at him, feeling small despite the fact that he was on the ground in front of you now.

“i’d like for us to be friends, at least.” you giggle at his comment, giving him a nod of agreement. 

“maybe this is a sign for me to give up.” your words are full of defeat. 

sungho’s confused from the lack of context. “give up?”

“give up on love. i don’t know why i thought i could find something on a dating app, for god’s sake. i guess it’s just not for me.” sungho knows whats he wants to say now. he wants to tell you you’re beautiful. he wants to tell you that you deserve to be treated well. he wants to tell you that anyone would be stupid to give up the opportunity to love you. 

he knows he shouldn’t say all that, at least not now. “would you give it one more chance? y’know, if the opportunity ever showed up.” 

“yeah, if that ever happened. i’m starting to feel like a lost cause here, sungho.” you scoff. after so many failed encounters with love, you felt like it was time for you to take a break.  “you’re acting like the right person is going to magically show up in front of me.”

there’s silence in the air between you as the leaves rustle the trees above. “this might be the worst possible time to do this, but would you let me take you out on a date, Y/N?”

...part two? (i have ideas for it already. Plz lmk if u guys GAF.)

taglist: @onedoornet @minwrlds @serejae @loserlvrss @gluion

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

୨୧⸝⸝ : and i promise, this time i won’t be late.

PAIRING! idol!wonbin x fem!reader GENRE! fluff, angst (quite a bit this time i think) WARNING! just wonbin tryna be a good bf alsooo not proofread WC 2.5k

NOTE! smth shorter to make up for the fact that i haven't written anything in ages, sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth it will happen again

wonbin finds himself praying that you're still awake right now. he looks down at his phone for the thousandth time, wincing every time the minute changes.

it is currently 1:06 in the morning. running an anxious hand through his hair, he continues to glare at the time being displayed as though it would go back a few hours if he stared hard enough. he thinks about sending you a message to verify whether or not you're still up, but decides against it with a shake of his head. he already feels terrible, and he thinks that if you happen to be asleep right now and wake up to his sorry, pathetic message the next day, it'd only make him feel worse.

lost in thought, wonbin doesn’t even feel the arm that wraps around his stiff shoulders until the person touching him decides to speak. “you’re coming with us, right?” sungchan asks, causing wonbin to look up for the first time in what feels like hours.

all the boy can utter is a “what?”, meeting the eyes of his taller group mate. “the corner store down the road is still open,” sungchan explains, “we’ve been talking about stopping there since practice ended. were you not listening?”

wonbin takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair once more. he hadn’t been listening, of course, because the moment practice ended the only thing on his mind was getting back home to you. it wasn’t a rare occurrence, but practice only seemed to drag longer than normal today, and while wonbin knows that you’ve always been understanding of the fact that he comes home late, he can’t help but feel apologetic. he tells himself that he owes it to you to come home on time just once, and he’s blown it again.

1:10 in the morning. “sorry,” wonbin breathes, “i can’t go.” he doesn’t say anything more than that, and he doesn’t have to. sungchan drops his arm from the younger boy’s shoulders, instead opting to pat him on the back reassuringly. in the same sense that this isn’t wonbin’s first time coming home late, it also isn’t the first time he’s had to bail on his friends in exchange for arriving at your shared apartment just a bit earlier, even if it doesn’t make much of a difference. despite everything, wonbin is still late, and there’s no changing that.

sungchan nods, “next time, then.” wonbin offers him a nod in return, and the older boy only gives him a smile and a wave before turning around to catch up with everyone else. wonbin is frozen for a moment, watching the silhouettes of his group mates get smaller and smaller before he finally begins the journey back to you.

1:45 in the morning. wonbin holds his breath as he opens the door to your apartment, making very minimal noise. he still prays that you’re awake, but can’t blame you if you aren’t.

he wants to call out to you, the same way he wanted to send you a text earlier, and the same way he wanted to arrive at a reasonable time for once. he keeps his teeth clenched.

it’s 1:50 by the time wonbin stops in front of your shared bedroom. you’re sleeping— he’s sure of it. despite this, he still can’t find it in him to regret making an attempt to come home sooner. he knows that you’d appreciate it if you knew.

he pushes open the door and there you are, a tense look adorning your face as you sleep. he takes note of how you likely weren’t even sure if he would be home on time or not, yet you still stayed to your side of the bed. whether it be due to routine or simply because you were hoping that he’d show up, his heart drops nonetheless.

he quietly walks over to you, pausing when he reaches your side. he had wished for you to be awake up until this moment, but finds it ironic that he currently doesn’t want to wake you. he doesn’t even realize that he’s subconsciously moving hair away from your face until it’s too late, and does nothing to stop himself once he notices.

letting his hand drift down slightly to stroke the side of your face, he releases a shaky sigh. “i’m sorry, my sweet girl,” he whispers, watching with somber eyes as your expression softens as if you’re able to sense his presence in your sleep.

he makes his way over to his side of the bed and he knows that you won’t be affected by the way the mattress dips slightly as he lies down, because he’s done it so many times and you’ve never once woken up from it.

2:01 in the morning. wonbin hates that he can only lie beside you for a few hours before having to leave again, before you even get the chance to open your eyes. it’ll be as if he was never there. it’s completely out of his control, and wonbin knows that, but he hates it. you’d tell him that it’s alright, the same way you’ve done several times, but he hates it. he hates every bit of it.

it’s 11:01 in the morning by the time you wake up, and you don’t need to turn around in order to know that you’re the only person in the room. wonbin had been here, this much you know, and you wish that you had stayed awake longer if it meant being able to see him, even for a moment. you wish that you had woken up abruptly at some point last night if it meant being able to see his sleeping face.

you don’t dwell on the thought for long— you never do, knowing that it’d only make your situation a lot harder to deal with. you feel around your bedside table in search of your phone, not having the strength to get out of bed just yet.

strike one, you think to yourself. on the rare occasion that you wake up and wonbin is by your side, he always lightheartedly scolds you for checking your phone first thing in the morning. he’d disapprove if he saw you right now, but he isn’t here to stop you, so you do it anyway. coincidentally, the only notifications on display are from the boy in question.

[6:23 AM] my bin <3: hiii babe

[6:25 AM] my bin <3: call me when u get the chance!!!!! i’ll be available (i will literally drop everything and pick up)

[6:26 AM] my bin <3: i love u pretty ….. 🤮

your mood lifts just by seeing his name on your screen, a surge of energy coursing through your body. you decide to go about your normal routine, the idea of calling your boyfriend never leaving your mind.

it’s 11:20 by the time you make it downstairs, everything looking the exact same way you left it. wonbin is nothing if not organized; if there’s any disarray in your apartment, it’s all from you. unfortunately, this means that there’s not many traces of your boyfriend left behind, and you often hope for him to forget to hang up his coat or line up his shoes by the door just to prove that he’s there.

you walk into the kitchen and the first thing you take note of is that you still haven’t taken out the trash. strike two, you think.

you made a mental note to take care of it a few days ago and you still have yet to do so. wonbin hasn’t been around enough lately to notice, but you know he’d jokingly give you a roll of his eyes if he saw the way it’s practically overflowing right now before proceeding to take it out himself. he’d do the same with the dishes piled up in the sink, chatting away with you while he took care of everything like it was no problem, and to him, it really wasn’t.

god, you miss him.

you pull out your phone, disregarding everything else as you click on his contact and hold the device up to your ear. it rings only 4 times before you hear wonbin on the other end.

“i was hoping you’d call,” he says, and you faintly hear the voices of his group mates in the background. you almost let out a laugh at his words, just to fill the silence, but it only comes out as a quick exhale. “why wouldn’t i? you told me to. and i would’ve, even if you didn’t tell me to,” you murmur, your words leaving you faster than you wanted them to.

“i just don’t feel like i deserve it, i guess,” he replies. you’re about to ask him to elaborate before he continues. “i stopped by last night. i’m sorry i couldn’t come sooner, i really tried.” you pause at his choice of words, wondering if he even noticed that he said “stopped by” rather than something along the lines of “came home”, as if the two of you don’t live together.

you shake your head, deciding that you’re looking too much into it solely because not being able to see your boyfriend is taking a toll on you. “don’t apologize, bin,” you exhale, “i’ve told you a million times i understand. there’s not really anything you can do about it.”

you know he’s probably shaking his head on the other side of the phone, or running a nervous hand through his hair the way he always does. “i know, just- i’m sorry. i want to see you.” you nod, and he doesn’t see it. “i want to see you, too,” you reply. “should i wait up until 3am today?” your words are meant to be taken as a joke, but wonbin immediately retaliates. “you better not! your beauty sleep comes before anything else.”

you talk with him about anything that comes to mind and it’s as easy as it always is. when he tells you that he has to leave and get back to practicing, the two of you exchange prolonged “goodbye’s” and “i love you’s” before you finally pull the phone away from your ear with a sigh. you think that hearing his voice only made you miss him more.

when you look up from the phone you’re once again greeted with the trash can, as filled to the brim as ever, and you think taking it out would make for a good distraction. not far from it, the dishes are still piled up, and you consider washing them. you don’t, though. strike three.

you spend the rest of the day going through the motions, body moving on autopilot as it does quite often lately, and at the end of it all you look back on everything and think that it had all been normal— aside from the fact that wonbin doesn’t come home.

despite his initial protests, you’re awake until 3:26 in the morning. you’re not sure what time he arrived home last night, but you think that it couldn’t have been later than this.

you had made sure to take a nap at some point during the day just so you could be awake at this moment, to see your lover, talk to him, even if it had only been for a few minutes.

you shoot him a text, praying that the urgency you feel can be expressed through the little amount of words you send. you fall asleep waiting for his response, only to wake up to an empty phone, and an even emptier bed.

if there was barely any traces of wonbin in your shared apartment before, there definitely isn’t now; his lack of presence was evident the day before despite the fact that he had been there for merely a few hours, but after last night?

for a moment, it almost feels as though you live by yourself.

12:03 in the afternoon. swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, you make an attempt to go about your routine as normal. you can already picture the sight you’ll be greeted with downstairs— an overflowing trash can, the accumulating dishes in the sink, only this time, there’s no messages from wonbin asking for you to give him a call or telling you that he loves you.

to your surprise, by the time you manage to trudge downstairs, you aren’t greeted by any of those things.

the trash can that had been previously close to spilling over has been emptied, an empty bag now taking its place. there’s no dishes in the sink, all of them instead sitting in the dish rack waiting to dry. before you’re able to turn around and demand an explanation, you feel arms wrapping around your waist, and you swear that your eyes almost fill up with tears.

“my sweet girl, i missed you,” wonbin utters from behind you, and in an instant, you’re spinning your body around and returning his embrace. he can sense that you’re about to ask him a myriad of questions, and opts to continue talking before you can get a word in. “i’ve only been here for about an hour or so. i’m sorry i couldn’t come home last night, baby.”

you shake your head, about to offer him the same reassurance you always do, when he begins to speak again. “i practiced until super late last night. i wanted to finish learning the choreography as fast as possible—“ you open your mouth to scold him, pulling away from his chest momentarily when he cuts you off for what feels like the thousandth time. “—and before you yell at me, it was for a good reason,” he pouts, waiting for you to press your lips into a tight line before starting to speak again.

“i overexerted myself a bit, i think, but it was all worth it. i’m all yours for the next few days,” he finishes, a hand stroking the back of your head. the two of you stand there for a while. “i love you’s” and “i missed you’s” are exchanged rather than goodbyes, and neither of you are willing to move from your positions, blissfully unaware of the passage of time for once. it’s alright, though— you both have time. a lot of it.

for a moment, wonbin gets the urge to apologize again, whether it be for all the times he’s arrived home late, or for leaving you alone with an overflowing trash can or a sink full of dishes, but it’s almost as if you’re able to read his mind. “don’t feel sorry anymore, bin,” he hears you say, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. he only nods, the words dying on his tongue. he decides that he’ll accept your reassurance just this once.

wonbin isn’t sorry, because this time, he isn’t late.

AUTHOR’S NOTE! beabadoobee my wife

୨୧⸝⸝﹕if you call me a fool, then i’ll be a fool.

SUMMARY! you’ve been in love with park wonbin since the day the two of you met and never found the courage to tell him. why is it that you find yourself yearning to confess the moment someone else comes into the picture?

PAIRING! park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE! college!au, slice of life, fluff, angst (an attempt was made), friends to lovers, IDIOTS to lovers omg WC 8.1k

WARNING! swearing, jealousy, y/n likes wonbin an insane amount girl get up, insecurity, anton instigates like it’s his job and he’s up for a promotion, random female idol is mentioned many times (nothing against her!!), not proofread

NOTE! do u guys know what song the title is from lol.. LOL also i had another wonbin fic i wanted to post and deleted it bc it sucked so actually im posting this one as a coping mechanism

you don’t realize the way you’re staring at the back of wonbin’s head until a voice snaps you out of your trance. “do you know what you want?” shotaro asks you, waving a hand in front of your face.

currently, the two of you, along with wonbin, seunghan, and anton, are standing in line at a beverage kiosk. the latter, having already received his drink, stands to your right while shotaro stands to your left. seunghan recites his order to the employee while wonbin stands idly behind him.

“don’t even bother asking,” anton chortles, lips still wrapped around his straw. “she’s probably gonna have wonbin order for her, like always.” you lightly slap him in the arm after the words leave his mouth, eyes darting to the aforementioned boy standing merely 2 inches in front of you, hoping he hadn’t heard anton’s teasing.

“i didn’t even say anything wrong! he orders for you all the time!” the boy whines, jokingly rubbing his arm where you had hit him.

shotaro lets out a curt laugh at the interaction, knowing that anton’s words held truth to them, whether you liked to admit it or not. “it’s because she’s shy. right, y/n?” he turns to you, attempting to diffuse your embarrassment. one look at the smile on his face and anyone would be able to tell that his words were complete bullshit. the two of you knew that the real reason you liked having wonbin order for you was because you liked him.

however, for your own sake, you sigh and choose to agree with shotaro’s statement, only offering a small nod. “whatever,” anton mutters under his breath, walking over to seunghan who has his own beverage in hand.

now that you, shotaro and wonbin were the only people in line, shotaro grabs your sleeve and gently pulls you backwards, putting more distance between the two of you and the boy who was now placing his order. before shotaro says anything, you know what the topic of conversation is going to be.

“do you ever plan on telling him?” is all he inquires, his voice lowering to a whisper. you avoid his piercing gaze, instead turning to look at anton and seunghan, laughing in between sips of their respective drinks. anton is already nearly finished with his, you note.

when you’re done observing them, you shift your attention to wonbin, who has his arms crossed as he points at one of the cup sizes the kiosk has on display, indicating that it’s the one he wants.

you’re unable to see his face but you’re able to picture it better than anything. the way his lip quirks upwards in an attempt to be polite to the employee. the furrow of his brow as he asks a question.

shotaro sighs at your silence and finds it astonishing how you’re able to ogle wonbin without even looking at his face. that very sigh brings you back into reality, finally meeting the gaze of the boy currently interrogating you.

“he… doesn’t think of me that way,” you slowly tell him, as if the words would physically pain you if you uttered them too quickly. shotaro lets out a noise you can only assume was meant to be a scoff, but being passive aggressive simply doesn’t run in his blood.

“are you kiddi-“ shotaro is interrupted by wonbin holding a drink in front of your face, thus putting a barrier between the two of you. “here, y/n,” the long haired boy hums, not moving from his spot until you take the beverage filled plastic cup. if you didn’t have park wonbin tunnel vision, as shotaro likes to call it, you’d see the way anton is shaking his head and letting out a short laugh in disbelief upon witnessing the interaction. “called it,” he tells seunghan, who only blinks in confusion.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, but i remembered that time we went to that other drink place and you said you really liked the strawberry one, so i got you that,” wonbin explains, holding his own straw up to his mouth. he says it nonchalantly, as if you could either finish the drink in about 5 seconds before proclaiming how much you enjoyed it, or you could throw it to the ground and curse at him for assuming the flavor you wanted, and he wouldn’t flinch either way.

“um— yes— yeah, i..” you stutter, and shotaro swears it takes everything in him not to slap his own forehead at your sudden jumpiness. “i like it, thank you. you didn’t have to, wonbin,” you exhale, holding your drink with both hands.

“yeah, well, force of habit, you know?” the boy laughs. “since i’m always ordering for you anyway.” his words cause you to tense and you can just picture anton’s shit-eating grin after he heard what wonbin said. “right, yeah,” you nod, wanting the conversation to be over with. the 5 of you continue walking throughout the mall, seunghan complaining about what a ridiculous amount of time you had all just spent at that beverage kiosk.

“force of habit is crazy,” anton decides to tease you again, earning another slap on the arm. “stop hitting me!”

besides ordering drinks for you when you hadn’t requested for him to do so, anton has noticed that wonbin also tends to subconsciously let you get away with… a lot.

he doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he rolls his eyes when he walks into the living room and sees none other than you and wonbin, the latter seated on the carpeted floor while you’re situated on the couch behind him, playing with his hair.

“i shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters, barely audible. he’s unsure if he wanted you and wonbin to hear him, but your head snaps in his direction nonetheless. “hey, anton,” you greet him despite knowing that he’d have a lot to say about your current position. he nods his head in acknowledgement before pursing his lips. you brace yourself for whatever comment he’ll inevitably make next, morphing your lips into a straight line.

“you know,” anton starts, and you’re already holding back the urge to groan. “wonbin never lets any of us touch his hair like that.”

“right, because you guys are always so eager to play with my hair, huh?” wonbin quips sarcastically. anton shrugs, although wonbin isn’t looking at him. “so you’re saying if we wanted to, we could?” anton questions, moving across the living room to grab his phone charger, finally remembering why he had walked into the room in the first place.

“nah,” wonbin replies, “not sure why you’d want to, anyway.”

“i don’t see you questioning why y/n wants to do it,” anton insists, already making his way out of the room, pausing momentarily to hear wonbin’s response.

“she doesn’t need a reason,” his older friend says, “she’s y/n.” anton shakes his head and continues on his way. you resume treading your hand through wonbin’s hair as if nothing had happened, but unbeknownst to the boy sitting in front of you, your heart rate had increased at his words.

“he’s just jealous,” wonbin jokes. you only let out a short laugh in response. you wonder how he would react if you informed him that anton had actually sprung up that conversation because he knows about your tremendous crush on the raven haired boy.

“do you think you’d ever go blonde?” you inquire, changing the subject. he lets out a snort and tilts his head to look back at you. you’re grinning, trying to ignore the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“i don’t think the world is ready for that,” he laughs.

“what are we laughing about in here?” a voice sings from the door way, ripping your attention away from wonbin. you turn to the perpetrator and lock eyes with sungchan, who sends you a smile. you wave at him and he takes it as an invitation to sit himself down on the couch beside you.

“nothing much,” wonbin answers. your hands finally retreat from his hair and you miss the way his shoulders slump in response.

“right,” sungchan nods, turning his attention to whatever you and wonbin are watching on tv. in actuality, neither you nor him have been paying the television any mind for at least an hour, and only now do you realize that some sort of ocean documentary has been playing this whole time.

a few minutes of silence proceed before sungchan clasps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling you.

“man, this has been boring,” he announces, eyes darting between the two of you, seated in the same positions as when he first entered the room. “do you guys even talk?”

“we were, actually, before you walked in,” wonbin mutters, not meaning for his words to come out as sourly as they do. sungchan raises his hands in the air in defense. “hey, my bad. i didn’t realize the two of you were having an ocean documentary date,” he retorts.

“we’re not having-“ you’re about to correct him, only for him to cut you off.

“but, you know, bin,” he says, “i’m not sure how sangah would feel about you having a movie date with another girl.”

you feel like your entire world freezes over the moment you hear those words leave sungchan’s mouth. you quickly rid your face of your crestfallen expression, not wanting to give yourself away.

“who?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, and sungchan just stares at you. wonbin waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head in annoyance. “shut up, dude.”

“wait, y/n doesn’t know about sangah?” sungchan asks, a genuinely confused look crossing over his features. “i thought you guys told each other everything.”

wonbin groans in irritation. “i haven’t told anyone, actually, because it doesn’t matter. you only know because you’re nosy as fuck.”

sungchan chuckles, and you would attempt to let out a halfhearted laugh if you didn’t feel like your chest was aching. you lick your lips and stare questioningly at the side of wonbin’s head.

“look, bro,” sungchan gestures towards you, causing wonbin to turn around and meet your disheartened eyes. his face drops slightly, and you’re not in the correct headspace to try and pinpoint why. “she’s upset because you didn’t tell her!” his friend chimes.

wonbin shakes his head, still looking at you. “she’s just some girl,” he huffs. “i don’t even know her that well.”

you scoff before plastering a wobbly smile onto your face. “i’m not upset,” your voice quivers and you hope that wonbin doesn’t notice it. you’re not sure why he decides to reassure you about sangah— whoever that is— but you pray that it’s not because he’s known about your pathetic crush on him all this time and is now feeling bad for you because he’s currently seeing someone.

of course, only your cruel mind could formulate such a sickening thought.

“i’m just.. surprised,” you conclude with an unconvincing nod. wonbin closes his eyes in annoyance, and you know it’s because of his intrusive friend standing in the doorway. “sungchan, just stop spreading shit around, alright?” he gives him a tired look, finally getting up from the floor. as wonbin makes his way past sungchan in the doorway, the taller boy gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. with wonbin having left the room, you find yourself looking to sungchan with urgency.

“who is sangah?” you plead, trying to keep your emotions at bay. the boy furrows his eyebrows, confusion settling into his features once more. “why do you care, y/n?” he asks. you know that his question doesn’t come from a place of mockery, but rather genuine interest. it hits you in that moment that sungchan, as smart as he is, happens to be absolutely terrible at taking a hint.

somehow, when it came to the long lasting feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends, sungchan was none the wiser. you surmise that he wouldn’t have teased wonbin so openly about another girl had he known about your feelings for the long haired boy.

that, you suppose, you can’t really blame him for.

“um,” you start, “he’s one of my closest friends.” your words are spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “i’m just curious, you know?” the lie comes out easier than you think it should’ve.

sungchan hums, crossing his arms and giving you a curt nod. “just some girl,” sungchan tells you, repeating wonbin’s words from a few minutes ago. “yoon sangah. she’s in our music fundamentals class. like, 2 days ago, i think, she wrote her instagram handle on a slip of paper and gave it to wonbin right in front of me.” your face falls for what seems like the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. you can only offer the tall boy a nearly inaudible hum in response.

“do you think it’ll lead to anything? you know, between her and wonbin?” again, you can’t stop yourself from asking. you feel sick at the thought of playing into the role of ‘jealous, overthinking girlfriend’, and even sicker at the fact that you and wonbin aren’t even dating. what right do you have to be inquisitive about his love life?

still, you can’t help it. when sungchan takes a bit longer to respond to your question you fear you’re treading on dangerous territory, afraid that even the dense boy you’re conversing with may have cracked the code. the grin that he aims at you a few seconds later serves as reassurance that, no, he still doesn’t know anything.

“that’s a good question, y/n dearest,” he pats your shoulder lightly. “i guess only time will tell.”

you hate yourself for what you’re doing right now.

looking back on the conversation you had with sungchan hours prior to this moment, you recalled him mentioning that sangah had given wonbin her instagram. thus, like any normal person would do in your situation, you took it upon yourself to go through wonbin’s following list in an attempt to find her.

you scroll past your own account, past the accounts of your mutual friends, and a few people who you presume are some of wonbin’s classmates.

when you finally stumble across sangah’s account, your body fills with dread before you even see a proper photo of her.

judging by her profile picture alone, you can tell that she’s pretty. you’re fully looking at her profile now, and your frown only deepens. she’s beautiful.

you shake your head as if it would help ease your racing mind. she’s beautiful, yes, you think, but looks aren’t everything. you find yourself childishly crossing your fingers that sangah had the personality of an evil witch, so that even if wonbin fell victim to her physical charm, he’d be pushed away by her true nature.

you let out a quiet scoff. you can’t believe you’re sitting here thinking badly about another girl just because she might have a crush on the same man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him. in the same sense, you can’t believe that when you say that sentence out loud, it actually sounds a bit reasonable. you blame sungchan, for a moment, drawing the inference that you wouldn’t feel so insecure right now if it hadn’t been for his previous teasing.

you can’t stop yourself when you click on one of sangah’s posts. she doesn’t have many, but the few that she has have seemed to gather thousands of likes. despite this, you take note of the fact that wonbin doesn’t have any of them liked— thank god, you think to yourself. you start to analyze her photos, the faces she makes at the camera, the outfits she wears, the way her hair is styled. when studying her facial expressions, you wonder if she’s made those same faces while looking at wonbin. when taking her outfits into consideration, you wonder if wonbin has seen her wearing any of them and thought she looked particularly nice. whilst examining her hair, you resist the urge to rip out your own. it’s perfect. she’s perfect.

she’s perfect, and from what you can tell, you aren’t anything like her. so what does that make you?

you move to close the app, feeling filled to the brim with self doubt when you suddenly freeze as your phone vibrates. you hesitantly open your dms and your eyes widen as they fall upon the newest message.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: why are u awake

your heart races and you momentarily contemplate if wonbin had somehow set up a security camera in your bedroom without your knowledge because how on earth did he know?

you don’t ponder on the matter for long, the aforementioned boy sending another message merely a few seconds later.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: u have ur activity status turned on btw

exhaling a breath of relief, you type a response to him.

[3:03 AM] you: why are U awake park wonbin

[3:03 AM] 1bin_02: i just woke up like 5 minutes ago. my y/n senses were tingling and my unconscious body felt a disturbance

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: kiddinggg

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: but fr why are u awake

you hold your breath as you type out your next response, choosing to be daring. you decide that, even if it’s only for a few seconds, you’re no longer going to be a coward.

[3:06 AM] you: i was thinking about u

[3:06 AM] 1bin_02: ditto

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: i know im amazing and everything but don’t let me stop u from getting ur beauty rest 🙄 jk

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: gn dummy

you decide against saying anything else, shutting off your phone with a sigh. you are a dummy, you think, and the boy who had just given you that title has no idea that it’s all because of him.

you’re exhausted the next day, concluding that being awake at 3 in the morning despite knowing that you had a class at 8AM was not the best idea.

wonbin is quick to take note of this, poking you on your side as the two of you follow your usual route to your next lecture of the day. “i bet someone regrets staying up until 3AM, hm?” he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as you swat his hand away. “like you weren’t up at 3AM, too,” you mutter. he clicks his tongue in response. “that was only for a few minutes,” he says, “who knows how long you were awake for, though.”

before you’re forced to dignify wonbin with a response, anton and seunghan walk up to the two of you, the latter offering a wave while the former only smiles.

“where are we headed, guys?” seunghan asks, throwing an arm around wonbin. the boy attempts to shrug him off to no avail. “anton and i wanted to go get drinks and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come with,” he grins before quietly adding, “and maybe also pay for them.”

you laugh and wonbin turns to you upon hearing it, letting out a playful scoff of his own. “can’t, y/n has class in 10 minutes or so,” he turns to the two boys who now have their eyebrows raised in apprehension. “that’s where we were headed,” he finishes.

“and you’re walking her there,” anton nods, his words posing as more of a statement than a question. you can only dramatically roll your eyes. wonbin doesn’t seem to pick up any undertones, only nodding in response. “i might be able to tag along afterwards, though. no promises.”

“well, anton,” seunghan sighs, turning to his friend, “we’ll just have to take shotaro inste-“

the boy is cut off by the sound of a girlish voice calling out wonbin’s name. all 4 of you turn around in unison, and you feel like your heart has physically sunken into the floor. sangah.

wonbin’s at a loss for words for a moment and you want to run away more than anything. you’re not prepared to see the two of them interact, especially after looking at her instagram page last night. “hey, sangah,” is all he says, a smile plastered on his face that pains you to look at.

the girl is practically beaming. “what are you up to?” she grins, her eyes not daring to look anywhere but him. his eyes flicker to you momentarily, who is struggling to breathe.

“i’m walking her—” he gestures to you and sangah finally looks away from him, eyes now trained on yours, “to class. well, i was, before these two showed up.” wonbin waves a hand in anton and seunghan’s direction, the two boys adorning matching confused expressions on their faces. nobody moves a muscle for a few seconds and you’re afraid that your rapid heartbeat can be heard atop of the pin-drop silence.

“oh! my bad,” wonbin clears his throat, “guys, this is sangah,” he gestures towards the girl, “sangah, this is… guys.” he gestures towards his friends. “and y/n,” he gestures towards you for the second time, giving you a tap on the shoulder for good measure. sangah’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she reaches out to shake your hand. you’re positive that if it weren’t for the freezing hallways of your university, your hands would be sweating, so you silently thank whoever’s in charge of the ac for seemingly always having it cranked up to the max. you and the girl shake hands, her smile noticably brighter than yours.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” she says. “you, too,” is all you’re able to respond with, smile tight.

“nice to meet you guys, too,” she waves at anton and seunghan with both hands and they wave back, offering their own respective greetings in return. awkward.

you cough, attempting to break the silence. “this has been fun,” you press your lips together for a second, “but i’ve gotta get to class. hope you guys have fun at that drink place later, or whatever,” you trail off, the last part of your sentence aimed towards anton and seunghan. “and it was nice meeting you, again,” you add, making eye contact with sangah. she smiles. you don’t say anything to wonbin as you attempt to squeeze past him, but he grabs your arm. “i’m walking with you, remember?” he says. you resist the urge to look at sangah or anyone else in your vicinity for that matter, surprised at his words. this random girl who’s obviously into him is standing only a few inches away and wonbin still insists on walking you to class.

“it’s okay,” you shake your head, unsure. wonbin can tell that you’re beginning to feel upset and he desperately wishes that sangah and even seunghan and anton were anywhere but here. “y/n-“ he starts, you cut him off. “it’s fine, wonbin,” you reaffirm. it isn’t, though.

you begin to walk in the direction of your class and release a breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. deep down, you wanted wonbin to disregard your words and resume walking with you, leaving sangah and his friends standing in the hallway. but wonbin was too polite for that, and you couldn’t even turn around to see if he had continued to engage in conversation with the 3 of them because you felt tears forming in your eyes. stupid, stupid, stupid, you think to yourself.

unbeknownst to you, sangah was able to sense the tension in the atmosphere before anyone had even said anything to her. she kisses her teeth, scratching the side of her head. “i should probably go, too,” she tells wonbin. the boy can tell that she would’ve liked to talk more, but he wasn’t looking to become friends or even acquaintances with her. doing that would only give her the wrong idea, and he didn’t want to have any bad blood with someone he’d be forced to see nearly everyday in class. the boy nods in understanding, giving her a wave. “nice.. talking to you,” he bids her farewell, unsure of what to say, because whatever had just transpired definitely did not qualify as a conversation. the girl waves back with an unwavering smile, walking in the opposite direction you had gone.

“oh, man,” seunghan lets out a laugh he had been holding in, “that was the worst. please don’t ever put me through anything like that again.” anton silently agrees, cringing.

“is it just me,” wonbin starts, ignoring his friend’s remark, “or did y/n seem kind of upset before she left?”

anton stretches his arms slightly, eyes looking anywhere but at his dark haired friend. “wonder why that might be,” he muses under his breath, but wonbin catches it. “what do you mean?” he pushes, looking his younger friend in the eye. anton puts his hands in the air in mock surrender.

“anton, what the hell do you mean?” wonbin asks again, voice tinged with annoyance. anton shakes his head, “figure it out.”

seunghan watches his friends go back and forth, a bit confused himself. much like sungchan, he seems to be completely oblivious when it comes to the way you feel about wonbin.

you’re currently sitting in class wondering why you even bothered to show up.

you knew before you even sat down that you wouldn’t be able to process a single word of the lecture, your mind thinking over your first official encounter with sangah.

ever since last night, you’ve started to dread moments like these— none of your friends being around to distract you, leaving you alone with your own miserable thoughts. it feels as though each minuscule moment of silence is filled with your insecurities being pushed to the forefront of your mind.

what did they talk about after you had left? did seunghan and anton decide to leave shortly after, leaving wonbin and sangah alone? did they grow closer in the small amount of time they were left together? even worse, what if the amount of time they spent together wasn’t small at all? oh god, what if they’re still together right now?

had anton, seunghan or, worst of all, wonbin decided to invite sangah to their aforementioned drink hangout? your mind drifts to the image of wonbin ordering a drink for sangah, the same way he always does for you, and you feel like bursting into tears similarly to the way you had almost done so on your way to class.

and sangah— god, you wanted to hate her so bad. your prayers that she had the personality of a wicked witch were thrown out the window the second she opened her mouth. she was so nice to you. the guy that she likes had openly expressed that he wanted to walk you to class and she still smiled at you. she’s got the most perfect appearance and most perfect attitude and you feel like you can’t compete with any of it.

you check your phone for the first time in approximately 30 minutes, eager for a distraction. you’re dismayed to see only 3 notifications, one from the boy who seems the root of every current problem in your life, and two from sungchan.

[10:04 AM] bin 🫶: everything ok??

[10:16 AM] sungchani: hey

[10:16 AM] sungchani: we’re all gonna hang out on friday night (as decided by me just now) and u will be coming! (also decided by me just now)

you open your phone, typing a quick response to wonbin about how everything is fine (lie) and sending another short message in hopes of steering the conversation in a different direction. you open the two messages from sungchan, shaking your head as if he’d be able to sense your attitude through the screen.

[10:48 AM] you: who’s “we” exactly…. and what will “we” be doing

[10:50 AM] sungchani: don’t act dumb girl… me, you, taro, seunghan, anton and wonbin obviously. was gonna see if eunseok and sohee could make it but i doubt eunseok would wanna and i think sohee’s doing some group assignment lolol

[10:51 AM] sungchani: as for your other question i was thinking about going to the movies yay or nay? (say yay)

[10:51 AM] you: pass

[10:52 AM] sungchani: perfect see u there!

you don’t bother responding to sungchan’s final message, knowing that no amount of opposition from you would deter him. he’d probably drag you all the way to the theater himself if he had to. but you really don’t want to go, feeling drained from the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since sungchan mentioned sangah for the first time. you’d much rather spent your friday night in bed, trying to give your brain a much needed break. maybe if you really felt like torturing yourself, you’d pull up sangah’s instagram once more.

when class ends, you’re shocked to find anton waiting for you outside of the lecture hall. he’s holding a plastic cup filled with chai tea, leaning against the wall leisurely as he sips through an orange straw. he doesn’t look in your direction, which confuses you, because you’re undoubtedly the reason he’s currently standing outside of your classroom.

“lee anto-“ the boy in question cuts you off by lifting his index finger in front of your face, still not looking at you. you scoff in irritation, not wanting to deal with his antics in your current state.

“you’re coming on friday, yes?” he questions, his voice slightly above a whisper. “not if i don’t have to,” you say, your voice at a normal volume. anton, finally looking you in the eyes, presses his index finger to his lips as if to indicate that you need to be quieter. “you do have to,” he nods.

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “why the hell are you whispering?” you scowl, and he keeps his index finger on his lips. you groan before reluctantly lowering your voice to match his, despite the fact that you still don’t know why he wants you to do so. “what’s going on?” you inquire.

“you have to come on friday,” he repeats quietly, “and you’re gonna tell dark star that you’re in love with him.”

you blink. “who?” anton leans his head back in annoyance before mouthing, “PARK WONBIN.” you recoil for a myriad of reasons. “first of all, i’m not coming on friday,” your voice slightly increases in volume, “and even if i was, i most definitely would not use it as an opportunity to confess to wonbin. and why in the world did you just call him that?” you finish, exasperated.

anton only sips his drink, his aura calm and collected. “you’re going,” he answers pointedly, “because if you don’t, dark star is gonna find out either way.”

your eyes widen and you feel like all of the air has left your lungs. “what do you mean by that? you wouldn’t actually-“

“i would, though. if telling dark star about your crush on him would get you to stop pining after him like a fool, why wouldn’t i? and, in addition,” anton fully turns to you, his voice raising to a light mumble, “i saw the way you reacted when sarah started talking to him earlier.”

“it’s sangah,” you deadpan. anton waves his hand dismissively. “not the point. with the way you acted earlier, you would’ve thought they were getting married right in the middle of that hallway,” he sounds concerned as he speaks the words, not looking anywhere but at you.

“i’m not saying that wonbin— dark star, i mean, has a thing for sandra right now. frankly, i don’t think he cares about her at all,” anton continues, “but if you’re that worried about some random girl taking him away from you when they’ve known each other for like, a week, i think that’s a sign that it might be a good idea to tell him how you’re feeling.”

you look down, letting his words settle into your mind. “i’ll come on friday,” you nod, and the boy in front of you smiles at your words, “but i have to give the whole confessing to wonbin thing a bit more thought. i mean, it’s kind of sudden.” anton’s advice actually made sense, you think, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to tell the boy you’ve been harboring feelings for all this time that you’re in love with him on a random friday night.

“sudden?” anton asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “i think it’s long overdue. fire tornado hector thinks so, too,” he tells you.

you turn to him, dumbfounded. “where the hell are you getting these names from?!”

friday night comes in the blink of an eye and you’re standing in the lobby of the theater with shotaro, anton, seunghan, and sungchan. wonbin is nowhere to be seen.

“i told him 7PM sharp,” sungchan murmurs impatiently, checking his watch. shotaro turns to anton, jokingly hitting the younger boy on the arm with a laugh. “imagine he just decided to stay home,” he chuckles, “i bet y/n would be relieved.”

“why would she be relieved?” seunghan intrudes curiously. anton shrugs. “i told her she had to confess to wonbin tonight,” he says casually, as if he hadn’t just revealed your not-so-secret secret to an unsuspecting seunghan. the older boy’s eyebrows raise at anton’s words, his lips parting.

“you like wonbin?” he questions you eagerly. “dude, i can’t believe you didn’t know by now,” anton answers in your place as you press your lips together. “and we won’t be using the name wonbin when he arrives. he’s dark star. the codename helps when you’re trying to be discreet,” he finishes.

“yeah, because you know all about being discreet, right?” you reply, voice laced with sarcasm. anton knows that you’re referring to the way he had exposed your feelings for wonbin merely 30 seconds ago, avoiding your gaze as he whistles idly.

“sorry i’m late, guys,” the man of the hour exhales as he walks up to the 5 of you. sungchan studies wonbin, unimpressed. the latter can sense his older friend’s agitation, clicking his tongue. “you’ll forgive me once you find out why i’m late,” he assures, “look who i brought with me.”

you can’t prevent the way your heartbeat escalates, both at the mere presence of wonbin and the words that have just left his mouth. you’re unsure if you even want to find out who he’s brought with him, fearing the worst.

“sohee! eunseok!” you hear sungchan exclaim, excitedly making his way over to the two figures that have just entered the theater. he wraps his lengthy arms around both of them simultaneously.

“guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” eunseok muses, returning his friend’s embrace. the three of them return to where you and the others are standing and sungchan scratches the back of his neck. “my bad, man,” he utters bashfully, “the movie we’re watching is pretty lame. didn’t think you’d be into it.”

“still, it’s an excuse to see you guys,” eunseok shrugs, turning to greet everyone else. sohee does the same, wrapping his arms around you before anyone else.

“y/n! it’s been forever,” he grins, you return it. “it’s been… 2 weeks,” you tell him, hugging him back nonetheless. “i still missed you, though,” you hum. “stop hogging him, y/n!” seunghan teases, “we haven’t seen him in weeks either!”

the two of you release each other, and when you turn, wonbin is at your side. he taps your arm. “why don’t you greet me like that?” he feigns jealousy, pursing his lips. you smile at him, hoping to mask your nervousness, “i see you everyday.”

he rolls his eyes. “that doesn’t mean you can’t miss me.”

“i always do,” you say absentmindedly. by the time your words register, wonbin is already grinning. “ditto,” he mutters, his words meant for only you to hear.

he turns away before you can comment, and eunseok takes his place beside you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, greeting you. you think nothing of his actions before he leans down, angling his head so that it’s directly next to your ear. “i heard about healing michael’s plan,” he whispers, “the one about getting you to confess to dark star.”

“please don’t start this,” you plead, “i cannot deal with these nicknames right now. and how do you know about that?”

“um,” he starts, moving his head away from yours, “obviously healing michael filled me in on everything. just because we don’t physically see each other everyday doesn’t mean we don’t have a group chat.” he moves back to the previous topic, “he threatened to tell dark star about how you’re madly in love with him, right? he’s bluffing,” eunseok explains, “if you confess to dark star tonight, it should be because you really love him. not because anton frightened you into doing it.”

you nod at eunseok’s words, unsure. “and,” he continues, “it shouldn’t be about some other girl that might like him, either.” he takes note of the way your eyes widen a fraction. “yeah, anton told me about that, too,” he nods as you make a mental reminder to yell at anton later for airing out your business.

“what i’m saying, y/n, is make sure that you’re telling him how you feel, not for anyone else, but for you. well, and for him. and for you and him, together,” eunseok concludes, “don’t let healing michael or sandy get in the way of it.”

“it’s sangah,” you sigh, in awe of the fact that you’ve had to correct both him and anton. sungchan appears to have heard your final words, perking up at the mention of wonbin’s classmate.

“sangah? we’re talking about sangah?” he blurts out, turning to wonbin with a smile. “bro, we totally should’ve invited her,” he jokes, slapping his friend on the arm, “seeing her and wonbin interact in the theater would’ve been hilarious.” everyone grows tense at sungchan’s teasing— he was somehow still the only one unaware of your feelings for wonbin.

wonbin only shakes his head in response, his first instinct being to look over at you. you’re wearing that same disheartened look on your face as the first time you found out about sangah, and he can hardly breathe. his eyes narrow at the sight of eunseok’s arm still hanging off your shoulders.

“sungchan, when does the movie start? we’ve been standing here for a while,” shotaro states, attempting to alleviate the situation. “oh, we still have about,” sungchan checks the time on his watch, “ten minutes before the trailers even start playing,” he responds.

shotaro ushers the group over to the concession counter, quickly making some excuse about everyone needing to choose their snacks for the movie. “amateurs,” sungchan mutters, “who doesn’t bring their own snacks to the movies?”

wonbin finds his place beside you again, briefly studying your features. he notices the way you stand stiffly in your spot and the slight wrinkle between your brows. “hey,” he tries to get your attention. your eyes soften as they meet his that are flooded with worry. “i’m sorry,” he frowns, “about what happened back there. i don’t know why he keeps mentioning her.”

you’re puzzled and, yet again, asking yourself if he’s apologizing because he knows that you have feelings for him or if it’s because he still thinks you’re upset that he didn’t tell you about sangah sooner.

you prayed that he wasn’t apologizing due to the former, but why would he even need to apologize if it was the latter? if nothing was going on between wonbin and sangah, he had no reason to tell you about her. you press your lips into a tight line. maybe that was it— something was going on between them. that’s why he’s saying sorry to you right now, because he regrets not telling you before when you’re supposed to be one of his closest friends.

and that’s all you’ll ever be to him, because you were too much of a coward to confess to him when you had the chance. you think about how disappointed your friends are going to be once you break the news to them that you wouldn’t be confessing to wonbin tonight, or ever.

“don’t apologize, wonbin,” you quietly tell him, and he wonders why it seems as though you’re about to cry. he shakes his head, getting the sense that you misunderstood his words. he looks back at your mutual friend group, seeing that they’re all preoccupied. wonbin seizes the opportunity, grabbing your hand and taking you to a secluded area of the theater.

“please don’t tell me not to apologize,” he breathes, “because i have so much to apologize to you for.”

you’re confused and concerned, your lips parting slightly. you don’t have the chance to savor the feeling of wonbin’s hand still holding yours because you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever words he’s about to say. this is it, you tell yourself. you stare at the ground, anticipating the feeling of disappointment and rejection.

“i like you so much.”

you stop breathing as the words leave wonbin’s mouth. you’re terrified to look up, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly. he responds to your unvoiced worries by repeating the statement.

“i like you so much, and i’m sorry for holding it in this long,” he says breathlessly, “i’m sorry for letting sungchan talk about sangah all the time, because i didn’t want you to think that i could ever like anyone else.”

he continues despite your silence. “and i’m sorry for telling you all of this in a movie theater, of all places. i’ve been psyching myself up for weeks, but i couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing any longer. i’m tired of misunderstandings.”

he finally takes a deep breath, and you look up at him for the first time. “are you serious?” is all you’re able to say. you want to be 100% sure that your mind isn’t being as cruel as it normally is when it comes to park wonbin.

he nods, appearing to be just as nervous as you are, and you think that’s good enough of an indicator that he’s not joking.

“you fool,” you breath out in utter disbelief, not knowing if your words are directed at wonbin or yourself. the boy looks troubled for a moment before he hears a noise similar to a sob leave your mouth.

you hide your face with your hands. “i was supposed to be the one to confess to you.”

it’s wonbin’s turn to be silent now, listening to you rant. “it was this whole thing— healing michael, dark star.. eunseok knew about it, and shotaro..” you trail off. your words don’t even make sense to yourself, and you doubt they make any sense to the boy in front of you. “my god, wonbin— i’ve liked you since the day i met you!” you cry, hands still obstructing your vision.

wonbin hesitantly takes it upon himself to grab your wrists, removing your hands from your face. “do you mean that?” he asks, trying to meet your gaze.

you don’t look him in the eye as you continue rambling. “i was so scared,” you tell him, “sungchan mentioned her out of nowhere that day and i was so scared. i thought she was your secret girlfriend, or something.” you feel stupid for telling him all of this, finally admitting to your jealousy.

“when i saw her for the first time, i thought it was over,” you shake your head, “someone so pretty having a crush on you? i felt like nothing next to her. sungchan even told me that she wrote down her instagram and casually handed it to you— i’d kill to be that confident in myself,” you’re not even paying attention to the words leaving your mouth anymore, wanting to get everything you’ve been holding in out of your system.

when you finally look at wonbin’s face, he looks sad, which startles you. you’re afraid that you’ve just killed his mood with your venting. “i’m sorry— i didn’t me-“ you’re interrupted by wonbin pulling you to his chest, shaking his head at your words. “you fool,” he repeats your words from minutes ago. “i can’t believe you’ve been feeling that way about yourself.”

he keeps you in his embrace as if you’d run away if he were to let go. “i can’t think of anyone prettier than you,” he mutters, “or nicer, or funnier. or anything, really, because i think of you more than anyone else. i guess it’s my fault, kind of. i could’ve expressed it in ways other than walking you to class and ordering dumb overpriced drinks for you.” you let out a quiet laugh at his last sentence and he smiles, pulling away slightly so he’s able to see your face.

“i guess we’re both kind of stupid,” you conclude, earning a nod from the dark haired boy. “only when it comes to you,” he says, “i happen to think i’m very intelligent on every other occasion.”

when you finally regroup with everyone, they’re all wearing looks of disappointment on their faces. upon asking what happened, eunseok shoves a thumb in sungchan’s direction, the brown haired boy adorning a sheepish expression. “this fucker got the time wrong. the movie was at 6:15, not 7:15,” eunseok grimaces, “i better get a refund for my ticket.”

“you didn’t even pay for it,” wonbin says, “i did. sohee’s, too.”

anton, having been the first one to notice both yours and wonbin’s disappearance from the group, narrows his eyes at the boy. “and where were you?” he raises a brow, attempting to look intimidating. wonbin dismisses him with the wave of a hand.

before you and wonbin decided to rejoin your friends, you had to tell him not to hold your hand, much to his dismay. only after discovering the reason why, did he reluctantly agree.

you stand as far away from wonbin as possible, putting on a melancholy act. shotaro is the first to take notice of this, putting a hand on your shoulder. “did you tell him?” he questions, your silence serving as an answer in itself. eunseok overhears, looking at you with pity in his eyes.

when anton finally sees the distance put between you and wonbin, he concludes that you weren’t able to tell him about your feelings. he sighs, shaking his head.

as if on cue, you look at wonbin with determination burning in your eyes, beginning to advance towards him. the group is silent as they watch the two of you curiously.

“dark star,” you begin straightforwardly, “i’m in love with you.” wonbin tries concealing his laughter as he swiftly takes in the reactions of his friends. eunseok smiles knowingly while anton and shotaro are wide-eyed. seunghan wears an amused expression, sohee’s eyebrows are raised, and on top of it all, sungchan looks incredibly confused.

wonbin, keeping up the act, covers his mouth in mock astonishment. “did you guys hear that?” he turns to his friends, who are now all aware that they’re being pranked. “my girlfriend is in love with me!” wonbin beams, “metal blaze, i accept your confession.”

eunseok clicks his tongue, nodding. “metal blaze, that’s a good one,” he notes under his breath.

“alright, we get it,” anton groans, “it took you guys long enough.” he turns to you, unable to stop a smile from forming. “i hope you know i was never actually going to tell him myself. i only said that in hopes of scaring you into telling him.”

you nod, “eunseok told me that already. and it wasn’t me that confessed to wonbin— he confessed to me.” everyone is shocked at your comment, seunghan walking behind wonbin and giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. you purposefully skip over the fact that you all but cried to wonbin immediately after said confession about how much you liked him in return, and he pinches your side.

“you know, when you guys disappeared, i made a bet with shotaro that you guys were probably making out somewhere,” eunseok adds, “he said you guys were probably just in the middle of the whole confessing thing. i owe him seven bucks now.” shotaro pats him on the back with false sympathy.

as the topic of conversation shifts to something else, sungchan’s jaw is still practically on the floor. he looks at the way wonbin has his arm around your shoulders, head practically buried in your neck. he can’t stop himself from blurting out his next words.

“has y/n had a crush on wonbin this entire time?!”

AUTHOR’S NOTE! congrats to u if u survived reading all that ohhh lord i promise i’ll make y/n less unbearable next time but for now u guys are just gonna have to find it in ur hearts to forgive me… also it’s 5am rn and idk if i hate this fic umm we’ll see if i regret posting this when i wake up tmr

to chase a dream | zhang hao ˚₊‧⁺˖

all your life, you and zhang hao have been chasing each other. you wonder here, if this is where your symphony ends.

TAGS: musician!au, gn!reader, rivals to lovers, angst with happy ending, suggestive!makeout

A/N: something about zhang hao called for dramatics so here i am (≧∇≦)ﾉ ! self-indulgent as usual :)

WORDS: ~1450, EXTRA: music info and terms here !!

"That was wonderful playing earlier."

History doesn't even begin to describe what you have between you two.

Your friends could joke that there would be enough to write an opera. Star crossed and all. All about the virtuosos of violin and piano. Of Zhang Hao and you.

You want to hark it back to those fitful days in grade school. Full days of comparing sheet music, trying to one-up each other about the difficulty. Hao, and his too big violin case and you, trouncing him every talent show because his hands hadn't quite yet grown out of their stubbiness. The satisfaction in remembering those big whiny tears brings warmth to your soul.

Then, there came high school.

Oh, you loathe it; he doesn't. Not when his hands became a study in lines and grace. Envy would eat you alive if you had any less pride. But you weren't so above yourself to not look at him. Hard to not notice when he grows a head taller and of course, starts topping the local competitions only to shove it under your face.

Your parents loved it. Gave a reason to push you further and deeper into competitions and over the top galas. To push your fire against someone who was all finely diced ice. There was nothing you liked less when you wanted to live for the glory of the crowd, not medals and flowers.

Eyes followed you everywhere when he was in the picture. And yours always found his.

"Here to mock me?" you ask.

The laugh you draw is enchanting. "Never." And it's so sincere you might just believe it. "Just here to say my farewells."

The Winter Gala spins behind both of you: through a door, down some ornate stairs and into a pit of some thoroughly drunk musicians. From the balcony, only the trickles of laughter and music eke out the door. But you would hardly focus on that, not when Hao stands very plainly in front of you.

"Already? it's only an hour into reception." You twirl the champagne in your hand with consideration before you gesture him to come to where you lean on the balcony rail. "Thought you would stay to kiss ass with some of the others."

"Not this time. No, I mean..." The howl of the wind carries his unease. Traffic horns and gala laughter do nothing to smother whatever he tries to hide in his tone. You know him too well.

There's more than history between you two.

But whatever he says next has you rethinking everything. "I'm leaving, leaving. I won't be back in the country for a while so, here I am."

There's a moment where you think he's entirely pulling your leg. Pulling you along to another little joke at your expense. But you've known him your entire life at this point, and you’ve been through too much to realize that he’s not joking.

“… Am I the first to know?”

You count the beats and steady your breath. Years of this, all for what?

“Only Minghao-Ge and Junhui-Ge, and now you. But knowing them, they’ll be drunk enough tonight to let it slip,” he explains in this awfully fond tone. “Mark Lee from the LSO watched me perform at the showcase in July and scouted for me. I think he got on Junhui-Ge’s nerves with how much he emailed him.”

Medals and flowers. Smiles and bows. The curtain draws, where are you now?

"Congrats," you say after a second – watching nothing but your past fly by you. Despite the ache, you raise your glass. "Cheers," you smile and take a sip. Raising it into the moonlight and offering the glass to Hao for his own toast but he just shakes his head.

You pout. "Don’t like it?”

Instead, he takes the glass from you and settles it onto the edge. Pink dusts his cheeks as watches you from the corner of your eye. “Want to remember this.”

Heat flares to your cheeks at the weight of Hao’s words. A night to remember is one way to put it.

"So, when are you off to London?"

"This Monday."

You blink. "... That's fast."

"Why? You think you'll miss me?" and it's said with that smile of his. Infuriating and secret, so many layers of discourse that haunt you – it’s a memory that you'll take to the grave.

"Of course, it's you," you mutter, disgustingly honest with yourself. "It'll just be... quiet, without your excuse of music causing a riot." Honestly, you can barely hear Hao's chuckle when you're too stuck in your head to mind the charm in it.

You want to edge back into your comfort zone of easy quips, nothing serious but scathing wit. But nothing you say lights the fight that used to start so easy back when you two were younger. When your worries were small like the cars below.

A full look at his face is all you want to chance a glance for. What would you see? Remorse? Eagerness? Disappointment? You could read him like a book with a single glance, what’s stopping you now?

"What about you? are you going to stay in Singapore? I thought you'd be the one to chase excitement."

"I’ll chase whatever my parents dangle in front of me.” And the laugh he breathes is empty because you both know it’s bitter but true. Hao’s stood aside long enough to understand. So, when he sidles closer next to you it warms you more than they ever did. "Yixing-Ge told me he's also planning to leave for Boston, promised me that I'll get his seat when it happens."

"If it happens,” he teases.

"It’ll happen."

You nearly jump when you feel it. Hao’s warm hand on top of yours. It’s spindly and calloused, worn out in the way a weathered musician’s should be. It’s all you need to guide you back to where you are.

"I know you'll make it. Just make sure it's something you want.” Hao’s breath is right next to your ear. Clear as day and easy as a song. It’s so simple to say: take what you want.  

Blood in your ears, chest heaving, nothing to catch you when you fall but the discordant crash of keys.

It sounds like a melody.

"It's never going to be something I want."

"Then, what do you want?"

You.

Instead, you turn to face Zhang Hao. A challenge of a smile on your lips because you know where this ends.

To face the music, the crowd, the eyes that watch.

"What's it like? to chase a dream?" you ask.

Brutal, visceral, freeing. An infinite number of interpretations for one word.

The stage becomes your world, and the spotlight burns you alive. Pressure flays your skin even as your fingers glide across smooth keys and you hush your heaving breath. Running to your last page, heart in your hands, smearing red across white. There's no audience when you dream; you are your own critic, you are your own end, but your destiny is not you.

To chase a dream is to become raw.

"Like chasing you."

You hum low and satisfied. Carding a hand through Hao’s hair, you guide him down.

Kissing Zhang Hao feels like being on stage all over again. Being set on fire, skin flaying, blood rushing. It’s everything he isn’t, but everything you are.

You swallow his groan, biting across his lips as your hands trail down him. Everywhere you've wanted to touch feels unbearable. You want to chase this feeling: Hao's hands on your hips and cradling your jaw. Trailing his red ears and holding around his throat; it's little fires everywhere.

Distance doesn’t exist as you push into each other. Hao has you against the rail, hands cradling you like you’re his own instrument. Playing you to pluck you into satisfaction.

Years of us, made for this final movement.

This ache and greed that makes musicians like you two come alive. You know Hao as your years of black and white keys that haunt your dreams and make your reality. There isn’t a crevice in his mind you haven’t touched or a melody that he’s played where he never thought of you.

You hold Hao by the chin, determination set into your eyes and a chord of steel in your tone. "There better be a future for us – I’m not having you leave me here in your past.”

"Anything," he breathes against you. More than history. More than a future. Chasing your dream. "Anything for you."

thanks so much for reading !! this was a tough one but i'm glad i wrote it ! if you enjoyed please like or reblog :D ⭒ masterlist

a perfect fit | zhang hao

pairing: campus crush! zhang hao x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 3409

warnings: minor swearing probably?  lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 4. "what do you want?" "you" 5. "i want to help you, so please, let me." 11. "is that my sweater?"

notes: combined a hao prompt request (i changed the phrasing of 4 a little bit IMSORRY) with a campus crush! hao request and came up with this,,, honestly longer than i was expecting and somehow shorter than i wanted it to be ?? idk.. anyways geology major! hao you are dear to me (i want him so bad i'm clawing at the walls of my enclosure) hope you all enjoy <3

college was stressful. you knew it would be, it had to be expected. but what you didn’t expect was that the hardest part wasn’t the coursework or the seemingly constant stack of homework sprawled across your desk; it was actually paying attention in your classes.

how were you supposed to focus on mantle convection when three rows down was arguably the prettiest boy you had ever seen in your whole life. zhang hao.

you only had a few classes together, but coincidentally, due to your wandering eyes those happened to be the classes you were falling behind in. and he was to blame. 

truth be told, it seemed everyone had some sort of campus crush on the boy; between the way he dressed and carried himself and the way he always managed to be at the top of every class, just about everyone either wanted to be him or be with him. and you couldn’t blame them in the slightest. 

zhang hao was someone to admire from afar; across the lecture hall or the path between buildings. so when he ended up in a study group you had joined in an attempt to graduate with a respectable grade, you were dumbfounded, what was someone like him doing in a study group for a class he was passing with flying colours? maybe it was charity work, you convinced yourself.

the study group was only so effective for you, with zhang hao in the group you couldn’t focus, yet again. it was too hard to not notice the way he fidgeted with the pen in his hand or the way he doodled small animals in the corners of the paper. or the way he leaned over a fellow classmate as he helped them with a particularly complicated question in the textbook. 

you were doomed.

——

after a few weeks of no progress, you were just about to give up. maybe i’ll just drop out and work at a department store or something. you told yourself as you crouched down outside the library you all studied in. 

sure, you were being a little dramatic. but you were one question away from bursting into tears as you walked out of the study group an hour early. the embarrassment of leaving paled in comparison to crying in front of the boy who had been your reason to showing up to class some days. 

“are you okay?” the question pulled you out of your pity party, looking up to see the tall male in front of you. he gave you a worried look at your curled up frame leaned against the brick. “i’m just feeling a little stupid,” you tried to laugh, a dry husk of humour pushing past your lips.

the boy didn’t respond right away, opting to crouch beside you as he sat down on the concrete right next to you. if you weren’t so stressed about your academics right now, you probably would’ve been a stuttering mess at the close proximity. maybe you would’ve even noticed the scent of his cologne. but all you could do in that moment was frantically wipe your eyes and attempt to not look as pathetic as you felt. 

his eyes softened as he watched your hands rest on top of your knees, “you’re not stupid,” he said, a sweet tone in his voice, comforting even, “it’s a difficult class, everyone has been struggling.” his kind words tugged at your heart more than you’d care to admit.

“but everyone else seems to be getting it eventually.” you sniffled, concentrated on the tears threatening to spill again, “and i just keep slipping further and further behind.” you let out a heavy sigh, “i’m never gonna catch up at this rate.” 

you almost forgot the boy was even sitting there, silently listening to your troubles. “shit sorry,” you let out a pitiful laugh, “i didn’t mean to drag you into being my therapist.” 

he shook his head, a smile spreading across his face, “it’s okay, i’m glad you told me.” he turned his head towards you, “how about we make a deal?”

you only tilted your head in curiosity, urging him to continue his train of thought.

“you let me tutor you from now until exams. if you pass, then we both win, and if you don’t, then at least you tried your best.” 

the offer was sweet, but you couldn’t help but wonder why zhang hao of all people would take time out of his days to tutor you.

“what’s in it for you?” you let a small smile break out across your face, the first in what felt like weeks. 

“well,” he pretended to ponder for a moment, “maybe i just want to pass my knowledge onto someone.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the reason as he continued.

“and maybe, this can double as a way to make a new friend, if you’d want.”

sure. “friend” had no real implications of anything beyond a good acquaintance. but you almost choked at the disbelief. the university’s sweetheart, zhang hao wanted to be your friend? the boy you had spent the better part of the last two months trying to tear your eyes off of while your professor droned on about chemical reactions and the composition of rocks.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna take up too much of your time and-“ he cut you off before you could finish. “i wouldn’t offer it if i wasn’t sure,” he smiled gently, “i want to help you, so please, let me.”

you pondered the offer for a moment again. maybe it was the prospect of spending more time with him, or maybe it was just the idea of finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that was this class, but you had made up your mind.

“deal.” your smile widened as you stuck out a hand, his own coming out to shake yours as he mirrored your expression. 

this was going to be interesting.

——

your one on one study sessions had only been going on for a few weeks but you were already starting to grasp the concepts more with zhang hao’s help. “just call me hao.” you recall him insisting on multiple occasions, unaware of the way your brain would try and twist the intimacy behind it. just friends, you had to remind yourself, that was all you two would ever be, and that was honestly more than you ever could have expected. 

“hao,” the name rolling off your tongue, “it’s getting late, can’t we wrap this up?” you whined, pouting a little in hopes of getting sympathy from the boy. as smiley as he was, he was also quite the hard-ass when it came to studying.

“one more question and then we can be done for tonight, deal?” he smiled, gesturing to the last practice question from this page. you let out a huff as you mumbled an acceptance of the deal, grabbing your pencil once again as you wrote out the explanation, scouring your brain for the scientific phrases to communicate your thoughts. 

zhang hao looked over your final answer with a content hum, his hand coming over to ruffle your hair, “good job, you’re getting the hang of this.” 

you stiffened at the contact and praise, you had never really gotten validation like that, especially not from someone like him, and your brain was running with it. 

when you originally agreed to this arrangement you hoped that maybe it would be your way to get over your little campus crush on the boy sitting next to you, but it had only gotten worse, and you were slowly losing it. taking a moment to shake the thoughts from your mind, you started gathering your stuff up to leave, as was zhang hao. 

“don’t forget you’re stuck with me tomorrow too, y/n!” he chuckled lightly before saying his farewells and leaving first, rushing off to meet up with his friend; you were sure he mentioned his name once before, ricky maybe? something like that.

you only nodded as you waved, grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair and slinging your backpack over your shoulder, but then something caught your eye; a light blue hoodie draped across the back of the back of the chair next to you. zhang hao’s sweater. the boy was already long gone, and based on how often he was sporting the hoodie, you assumed it was one of this favourites, so you couldn’t just leave it here. “i’ll just give it back to him tomorrow.” you mumbled to yourself, picking up the sweater and resting it over your arm.

when you got back to your dorm you folded the sweater nicely on your desk, right in your view so you wouldn’t forget it tomorrow. as much as you tried to ignore it, that night you couldn’t help but notice the warm citrus scent of his cologne, and you swore you could smell it in your dreams that night.

——

the next day was a brisk spring day, the warm air having been replaced by a crisp, almost cold, breeze. to say you had not dressed properly was an understatement, you thought to yourself as you walked across the campus towards the library. in a moment of weakness as you called it, or rather a moment of strong winds, you took it upon yourself to throw the pale blue hoodie over your frame. he wouldn’t mind too much right?

sitting at your usual table in the library, you set up your many papers and textbooks, not paying attention as the boy you had grown close to approached the table, a little out of breath. 

“sorry i’m late,” he breathed out, catching his breath after seemingly running here. 

“it’s okay, i was early,” you laughed, finally looking up at the boy who’s cheeks were flushed light pink.

you watched as his gaze traced your figure, taking notice of the sweater you were wearing, “is that my sweater?”

now it was your turn to flush a shade of pink, trying to form a sentence as you stuttered through excuses, “oh, i’m sorry,” an awkward laugh escaped your lips, “it’s just you left it here yesterday and so i was bringing it to give back to you but it was colder outside than i thought it was and so i put it on on the way here without really thinking, i can give it back right now,” you barely stopped to take a breath, “or i can go wash it and then give it back if you’d prefer.” your train of thought was stopped by his hand on top of yours, your mind going from a million miles a minute to frozen solid in mere moments. 

“it’s okay y/n,” he chuckled at your flushed expression as he sat down next to you, “it looks cute on you anyways.” he said simply, moving his gaze to the textbooks in front of you as he flipped to the pages you were on the day before. 

this boy was going to be the death of you.

——

something in the air seemed to change after that day, and it wasn’t just the scent of the blooming cherry blossoms in the breeze. something had changed with you two, and perhaps that was how the two of you ended up in your dorm room rather than the library, and on a saturday of all days. 

“what homework have you got for me today teacher zhang hao?” you joked, leaning back on the arms as you sat on the end of your bed, looking at the boy who sat comfortably in your desk chair.

“aren’t i allowed to just hang out with my friend without talking about plate tectonics?” he said, a joking sarcasm lacing his tone. 

you only laughed in response as you tried to control your heart beating out of your chest at the simple, friendly, term. 

before you knew it, the day had faded into night in a blur of laughter and conversation; real conversation. it was a nice change of pace, and as much as you hated to admit it, the more you got to know him, the more your campus crush had changed into just a genuine crush. 

you tried to ignore it, but it was so hard to ignore the comfort you felt being around him, how easy it was to slip into conversations and how easy he made you laugh. how were you supposed to not think about that.

and much to the dismay of your heart, these weekend hangouts had become a sort of routine. on top of seeing him most weeknights at the library, your interactions had spilled into the weekends quite seamlessly. whether it was just having a movie night in your dorm room, wandering campus during sunset, or even just doing normal young adult things like going shopping. the two of you had even gotten into the habit of accompanying each other on errands just to keep the other company. 

it was nice, you couldn’t lie, but the domestic activities made it that much harder to separate your romantic and platonic feelings for the boy. 

and here you were, awaiting the arrival of the boy on a saturday night. every time your phone lit up you rushed to grab it, just in case it was from hao, the casual name becoming more natural over the weeks.

this time it actually was a message on your screen, you found yourself quickly unlocking your phone to see what it said. “i’m going to stop at the store on my way over,” the text read, “do you want anything?”

before the voice of reason in your head could object, you typed back a quick response, “you.” simple, straight forward, to the point. everything you weren’t. it was already too late to cover up your boldness as you watched the typing bubble appear, in sync with the wave of anxiety and near nausea that washed over you.

“you think you can afford me?” he joked back, rolling with the conversation more smoothly than you ever could have, evidently. you typed back a quick laugh, hoping he wouldn’t see the truth behind your original response, “probably not, maybe i’ll just take some gummy worms.” you replied before nearly throwing your phone across the cramped room. 

and to think, you were stuck with him all night.

——

you tried to focus on the movie, you really did, but the all too familiar feeling of wandering eyes and a racing heart took over your senses, and who could blame you? it wasn’t every day you found yourself sharing a blanket with the prettiest and kindest boy you’d ever known. you almost wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from you, or if he would just blame it on the fuzzy blanket covering your legs. you hoped it would be the latter.

soon enough the credits were rolling and you finally pulled yourself from the thoughts spinning around your mind, just in time for hao to turn to you with a smug smile. “you didn’t pay attention to any of that movie, did you?”  the question caught you so off guard you actually choked a little on the sharp intake of breath. was it that obvious? you wondered. you really had to work on your expressions it seems. 

“what’s on your mind y/n?” the smooth, almost teasing tone in his voice would’ve probably made your knees give out had you not already been sat down in your bed.

you managed to stutter out a response, rather reminiscent of the first real conversation you two had months prior. “oh it’s, uhm,” you quickly tried to come up with a believable excuse, settling on possibly the worst one, “it’s nothing.” the stiff laughter did nothing to help your case as he grinned at you knowingly, hopefully not too knowingly. 

“so i’m nothing now?” he feigned offense as his hand came up rather dramatically to his chest. “i thought i meant more to you than that, y/n.” he teased, obviously enjoying watching the gears turn in your brain as you attempted to process the conversation that was happening.

busted.

there was no coming back from it now and you knew it, and more importantly, he knew it. at some point he had picked up on your lingering gaze, your quick glances that you thought had gone unnoticed. all there was left for you to do was either admit your growing feelings, or play dumb about the whole thing. and somehow you decided the latter was the smartest option. 

“i, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.” another forced laugh pushed past your lips, getting past your thumping heart on the way out. 

it seemed that your reaction filled zhang hao with a new sense of confidence, because he did the last thing you expected him to do; lean in. not close enough for your lips to graze each other, but close enough to feel his breath on you, to feel the heat radiating off of your faces. close enough to feel the thick tension in the air, but you were sure anyone could feel that if they were here, you could even cut it with a knife.

“i think you know exactly what i’m talking about,” he smiled, your eyes darting down to his lips that were only a couple inches from your own before looking back to his eyes; warm and inviting. 

you weren’t sure what to say anymore, and so you made the bold decision to close the gap; only briefly, but long enough to taste the cherry lip balm that coated his lips, to feel the way his lips fit against yours. like tectonic plates.

what started as one chaste kiss turned into 2, and then 3, and then a gentle kiss of yearning, of waiting, accompanied by his soft hands on your cheeks. you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, his soft hands feeling like silk against your burning skin. you could feel him smile into the kiss as your body eased, relaxing into a rhythm. time slowed and suddenly the two of you were the only people in the world, the boy in front of you filling all of your senses. zhang hao. zhang hao. zhang hao. your brain echoed as you pulled away, giddy smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“is that what you were on about?” you smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes once again.

he let out a small laugh, “what do you think?” he sat back against the wall once again, admiring the way the glow from the tv illuminated your skin, and the way you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. “i thought you’d never do something about it.” he laughed again, this time grabbing your hand lazily.

“listen,” you started, “i didn’t think you noticed, and i was okay to keep it that way,” you looked down at your interlocked hands, your mind silently replaying the last 5 minutes on a loop, rendering yourself no better than a broken record. “you’re the zhang hao, everyone has at least a bit of a crush on you, so why would i assume i had any chance.”

he shook his head as a proud smile spread across his face, “everyone?” he asked, leaving you to lightly smack his arm, a small yelp coming from the boy. “okay okay, no need to smack me,” he laughed, “but really, you thought you didn’t have a chance? why would i have offered to tutor you if i didn’t have at least a bit of an interest in you?”

you let yourself ponder for a moment, looking back on the now distant memory. “i just thought you were being nice!” you stated matter-of-factly, earning another giggle from the boy, you could get used to that sound, or rather, being the reason behind it.

he merely smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, “well i’m not nice like this to anyone else, if that helps make it more clear.”

“good,” you mirrored his smile, taking in the beauty that was the boy in front of you, the boy who seemed to fit with you like the tectonic plates.

“because i don’t think i could handle the idea of you spending your wednesday nights talking about rocks with anyone else.”