yes i do!! in no particular order i would 100% recommend with my entire heart: @luvdsc @tyonfs @doiefy @sehunniepotwrites @ppangjae @navyhyuck @byunbaekby !!
pairing :: lee donghyuck x reader
genre :: angst, fluff / best friend + college au
word count :: 3,176 words
warnings :: none
playlist :: cover up (taeyeon) ⋆ wish you were sober (conan gray) ⋆ fever dream (mxmtoon) ⋆ candy so good (the rose) ⋆ bubble gum (clairo) ⋆ can i call you tonight (dayglow)
author’s note :: this is a bff2lovers support blog
The game of truth or dare has been going on for several rounds already, and Donghyuck comfortably lounges on the couch tucked in the corner, leaning against an armrest. He lightly shakes the cup in his hand, swirling the last remnants of jungle juice around, before nimbly tossing back the rest of it. It’s a circle of sixteen or so people, and as he looks around, he can somewhat make out the faces of his closest friends. Except he’s missing one: you, his best friend ever since you handed him your red crayon after he broke his in preschool.
But now, for a little over a year, he’s been wishing that being your BF stands for more than just your designated Best Friend. Maybe, it can also include BoyFriend. But that’s just wishful thinking.
Hazy eyes flitting around the entire expanse, Donghyuck looks for the reason of his heartache and finally finds you standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall and accepting a red cup from Hyunjin with a pretty smile. Who invited him? He definitely wasn’t a part of Nu Chi Theta.
The familiar green eyed monster rears its ugly head again when he notices how the distance between you and that pretty boy decreases. Grimacing slightly, he reaches forward and grabs a shot from the table, quickly swallowing all its contents.
Renjun lazily spins the bottle in the center after answering his truth from Tzuyu, and it lands on the unsuspecting Donghyuck. He notices the distracted look in his friend’s eyes, following his gaze until he sees you, and a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.
“Hyuck, it’s your turn,” Renjun announces, and Donghyuck is startled, turning to face his grinning friend. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” he replies confidently, and Renjun’s grin only widens. His friend’s gaze darts towards you and then back at him knowingly, and Donghyuck starts to feel his hands growing clammy. It seems that he was a little too obvious.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”
plotline: yeonjun loves you. you've loved him before but now you're convinced he deserves nothing but your ironic smiles. well, you're wrong. these three acts of your life uncover the truth behind your resentment and the depth of yeonjun's love. plus, an epilogue where we collectively hate on short stories because only poetry can truly capture a writer's horniness!
what to expect: a lot of rambling in parentheses but i promise it's essential to the storyline, (i have many thoughts about how i've used this feature in this story which i can share if anyone's interested.) mbti talk, some tiktok slang.
song recommendations: sweet by cigarettes after sex, moonlight by dhruv, lay all your love on me by abba
—
THE FIRST ACT: 2 THINGS YOU (MIGHT) HATE ABOUT YEONJUN
it’s not a secret that yeonjun does everything with his everything. he’s only invested in his select few interests but just the little things take up all the space in his heart. you could argue for or against his way of living, he’s more than aware it’s not the healthiest to be like this but he’s not ready to change, not while he’s still young. for now, he’s a summation of fixations and obsessions in his world. and it just so happens that one of his obsessions is you.
“what’s this? y/n’s got a new piercing?” he leans back on his heels dramatically, mouth forming an o at the sight of the newly-added butterfly stud on the helix of your ear. “and it’s only tuesday. week not going very well for you.”
you narrow your eyes at him in your typical resting-bitch-face fashion, instantly taking on an aloof demeanor, “i’m extremely uncomfortable with the fact that you’re keeping up with the number of piercings i have. can’t say i’m flattered.”
“ha! at this point, i don’t even have to try to keep count. you get a new one every other day.”
“oh, leave her alone, jun,” calls out taehyun from behind you, “she’s doing it for inspiration for her portfolio that’s due in three days.”
two ring-adorned middle fingers stick up in front of taehyun’s face, your hoarse voice following suit, “you’re a terrible friend, kang taehyun.”
“two days? and you’re not done? sorry, love, but as an ESTP, i physically cannot forgive you. i have to shame you in public.”
yeonjun laughs a little too hard for your liking at that, about to chime in with his own patronizing comment but you cut in, “oh, well, you know who else is an ESTP? donald j. trump!”
yeonjun laughs again at that, enjoying the banter between you and taehyun a lot. he joins in, “i’m an ENFP. that’s the same as katniss everdeen’s, so i’d say that explains why i’m so hot.”
you frown, “you mean you would choose peeta over gale? yeah, i can see why you have such bad taste in everything.”
taehyun howls in laughter at that and yeonjun shakes his head, “oh, ho ho ho,” he shuffles closer to you, “you don’t understand, y/n, how badly you’ve just insulted yourself.”
before you can fully comprehend the meaning of his statement, he’s gone, grabbing (stealing) a can of beer from hueningkai who’s busy forcing beomgyu to arm-wrestle him.
“whatever that means,” you huff out, massaging your temples. taehyun sighs, concealing a knowing smile, “yeah. i’ve no idea what he means.”
you rest your head against the sofa he’s sat on, stretching out your legs, “i actually hate you for betraying me like that.”
“oh god, maybe i’ll stop the day you stop talking like we’re still in the second grade and i’ve lent my eraser to the wrong person.”
“you might as well have!” you complain, not in the least petty because, “choi yeonjun did not need to know i’m behind on my portfolio. god knows what he’s gonna do with that information.”
taehyun snorts, “ah, yes, he’s probably going to plan a full-fledged assassination involving your family and kids simply based on the knowledge that you’re a helpless procrastinator.”
“you know what?” you sit up with a groan, “i think you’re the one i should be worried about sharing my secrets with. you’re the real threat here.”
your ‘friend’ simply chuckles under his breath as he watches you depart his side and hopes yeonjun’s somewhere in the crowd of the party to keep your nerves… unnerved.
yeonjun is present in the crowd, sat on the less than reassuring metal stairs of beomgyu and hueningkai’s shared apartment. his hand fidget with his phone, struggling to stop himself from going on tinder only to be disappointed because he’s just looking for another y/n and that near impossible, unless you break your oath to rely on “real life encounters and experiences” (your very own words) to find love.
he finds you then, in a group of people hanging around the balcony, cigarettes in hand. you stand a little far apart from the others, looking undoubtedly spaced-out as you swing on your heels back and forth. you’re pretty, even though yeonjun can only see one-fourth of your face, what with all the darkness and your hair in the way.
but you hate him. even if your disgusted grimaces and cold glares are all but a joke, you did seem harbor some kind of resentment toward yeonjun. he’d no idea what it was and trust him when he says he’s been putting his neck on the line just to figure out why.
so far the reasons that have him most convinced include,
one: you hate all men in general and he just happens to be a particularly irksome male presence in your life.
this is a pretty likely explanation, he thinks as he approaches you, because even as an outsider to the group you’re in, he can see that you reserve your expletives for certain men.
“…and that’s why i think everything is soup,” yuta finishes saying when yeonjun joins you. for a second there’s silence and even mark who usually can’t control his laughter maintains a poker face. then, you groan, “yuta, if i had a pencil right now, i genuinely would have stabbed you with it.”
now, this makes everyone crack up while you regard them in disbelief with a look that screams you guys know i’m serious right? because you’re dead serious.
so yeah, it’s a good bet to say that men aren’t your favorite kind of people. but still, yeonjun couldn’t shake off the feeling that your dislike for him is more personal. wishful thinking, perhaps? but then, you turn and notice yeonjun standing beside you.
your half-smile tightens into a frown, “when did you get here?”
there it was. that specific tone you use with, that was missing when you’d threatened lucas just moments ago. the grit in your teeth, the intensity of your eye-contact, even the way you say you changes. which brings him to the next and last potential reason that yeonjun has spent days, if not years, pondering.
two: yeonjun had done you wrong without knowing and ever since then, you’ve grown to absolutely despise him.
now, yeonjun knew for a fact that you’re expert at holding grudges, clear from how quick you’ve always been to bring up embarrassing things people around you, specifically taehyun, had done. and to be honest, you’re just good at remembering unusual amount of detail which you use to your advantage.
which is why yeonjun knows you’ll know he’s lying when he says, “i’ve been here for a good ten minutes, y/n. i’m so hurt you haven’t noticed.”
“stop that,” you shoot back instantly, raising a singular but intimidating index finger, “i know what you’re doing.”
yeonjun raises his eyebrow in amusement, “stop what? what am i doing?” he slightly leans in to dramatically tuck in a few stray strands of hair, “please, enlighten me.”
the low, husky voice he uses is not lost on you. despite your flaming cheeks, you scoff, “that! you’re flirting with me!” you reach up and promptly untuck the hair from behind your hair, “these are my slut strands. you’re not allowed to touch them without permission.”
“your—” yeonjun pauses, “slut... strands? right.” he swallows a chuckle, smirking instead, all while internally he’s having a breakdown over how insane you are. like in a good way. in the way that everything you say is fucking crazy but it’s so native to your logic that it drives him crazy and holy cheese, yeonjun is scaring himself right now.
he looks away momentarily to see the rest of the group’s conversation floating elsewhere. he turns back to you, “so you noticed?”
you cock up a brow, “that you’re flirting with me? no shit, yeonjun, you know i may not look street-smart but i have to live with taehyun and his witty ass so trust me, i’m not oblivious.”
“oh, i beg to differ,” he settles closer to you, leaning against the same pillar as you, shoulder flush against yours, “i didn’t think for a second that you were oblivious.”
“that’s why you ran away after telling me i was insulting myself by insulting your taste?”
yeonjun flushes, taken aback by your straightforwardness, coughing to cover up his lack of excuses at that. you breathe out a laugh at his flustered state, “hmm, so goes down the all-mighty choi yeonjun.”
“at least i wasn’t defeated by my inability to complete my creative writing portfolio due in three…” yeonjun looks down at his watch, “actually, now, two days.”
this time, you’re left without a comeback, “that’s a low blow, man.”
he laughs, “come on, isn’t this like your first time being this late?”
“once again, i remain creeped out at you knowing things like that but,” you relax noticeably next to him, “i guess i ran out of ideas this time. not sure what’s wrong.”
“and this had never happened before?”
“i thought you already knew this.” yeonjun rolls his eyes, a complete contradiction to the grin on his face. ”hm, maybe you’ve run out because you’re trying to do it the same way you’ve always done it?”
“i mean, of course i’m doing it the same way,” you mutter, “that’s like the point of having a regular writing practice. it needs to become natural.”
“yeah, but you need spice things up a little sometimes!”
“gross,” you scrunch up your nose, “you sound like you’re prescribing me a threesome right now.”
he shrugs playfully, “if that’s what rocks your boat.” you push him away at that and he laughs out, “okay, okay, but i’m serious. try something new.” you quieten down at that, probably thinking.
“what about…” you look up at him expectantly and he almost fumbles over his words, “um, what about walking around the city?”
—
THE SECOND ACT: LOVE BEGINS BEHIND CLOSED PARENTHESES
full disclosure here: yeonjun’s second reason is right. the first one isn’t completely wrong, but it’s more so the second one that finds you in the gropes of overthinking that night.
you know how at a certain point in the past, you really (really, really, really) like someone but then things don’t work because that person isn’t into you (but more because you’re too caught up in your own self-perception to do anything) so slowly that lots (and lots and lots) of like turns into a lump of resentment? yeah, that pretty much describes your relationship with yeonjun. more or less, you hate him for not liking you (”in the past!! i don’t care about him anymore!” you hastily add from behind kang taehyun who had been narrating this whole paragraph. taehyun poorly covers up an incredulous snort.)
“so now you’re going on a date with him?” taehyun asks a little too loudly, “how does that happen?”
“it doesn’t happen because nothing is happening because i’m not going on a date with him!” you half-scream, hitting the brunette on his head to try and shove some sense into it, “and please, stop being so loud or i’m going to cry.”
“y/n, we live alone. and i think you’re going to cry nevertheless, but okay. if it’s not a date, what is it?”
“it’s just a walk,” you say and when taehyun looks at you blankly, “a walk around the city, in his exact words.” more blankness. more silence. “i was going to go alone but yeonjun said he knows an obscure part of town that would help me become, you know, curious.”
“uh-huh, right, of course…” taehyun purses his lips, intrigued to see how far you’d go with your denial.
“stop looking at me like you’re so much better than me! and no—” you cut him off knowingly, “don’t say that you are better than me. you’re not. what you are is an asshole and i hate you.”
you fall into your sheets with a frustrated wail and taehyun laughs at your state for a few seconds before returning to his role as your therapist slash best friend.
“okay, y/n, i know you don’t like to think about, let alone admit it, but you’re into yeonjun. and since i can’t let what happened a year ago happen again, i’m telling you that i’m almost completely sure that he’s into you, too. so please, don’t be hostile tomorrow on your date— sorry, your ‘walk’ with him. use the opportunity or i’m sleeping over at kai’s.”
—
“i don’t know why i let you talk me into this,” you scoff as you fall into step next to yeonjun. “we’re literally at a stupid park.”
he gasps like the theatre kid he should be, “first of all, this is a huge park and you’ve no idea how much people-watching you can from here. and secondly, i bought you coffee so all you’re being right now is ungrateful.”
you stay silent, eyes scanning a group of middle-aged ladies that passes you. you hear a whiff of their conversation, something about one of them wanting to take a break by the water fountain.
“see? you’re already in the zone and i didn’t even have to shut up.”
you look back at him, awed look morphing into a scowl, “no, i think it’s just really easy for me to forget you’re here.” yeah, it’s safe to say you haven’t taken a word taehyun said to the heart.
but no matter what you say, half an hour later finds you perched on a bench, crouched over your notebook, fingers scratching quick bullet points into the paper. you look up every ten minutes or so, head moving up and then rotating slowly, and then back to writing.
it’s only when yeonjun brings you your second cup of coffee that you notice the stiffness in your shoulders. he smiles at you, brightly. brightly? no, it’s the sun that’s bright, not yeonjun. he’s… moronic.
“wanna take a break?” he asks. you stand up in answer, taking the cup he holds out for you, the words thank you leaving your lips a little too quickly. he doesn’t overreact like you expect him to, his attention on some kids a few ways away from where the two of you are.
“you wanna play frisbee?” you mean to mock, not offer, but yeonjun’s ear perk up and he’s pulling you after him before another word can be said.
“hey, kids!” he greets the children who look like they’re maybe in middle school, “could we join y’all for a bit?”
it’s a a girl in pigtails who answers excitedly, probably encouraged by yeonjun’s looks (hey, yeonjun is objectively good-looking. just because you’re stating facts about his appearance doesn’t mean you’re in love with him. because you’re not in love with him.)
“sorry, this one is a little zoned out most of the time, so just don’t aim at her face,” you hear yeonjun say as you finish convincing yourself of your lack of feelings for him. you resist the itch to flip him off and flash a polite smile to the blonde boy next to you.
he responds with an enthusiastic wave, “hello! i’m ren!” you raise your eyebrows, not expecting him to introduce himself but return with a, “hey ren, i’m y/n. nice to meet—”
you’re cut off by yeonjun’s yell as the yellow frisbee flies your way. your hands come up to shield your face but ultimately it’s yeonjun’s body crashing into yours that saves you. does it, really? you wonder as you groan from under him. the grass is damp and you’re in it and yeonjun’s on top of you. you’re not sure what makes you more annoyed.
“i fucking hate you,” you whisper as yeonjun props himself up. he’s still close enough though so he grins, looking objectively good-looking despite the twig that’s found its way into his hair. “smile, babe, i just saved your life.”
you don’t know how to respond to his outrageous use of the endearment so you’re grateful when ren exclaims, “he just called y/n noona baby!!!! ewww, they’re dating!!”
on second thought, you’re not grateful because apparently, this is enough to wreak havoc among the group of children. weren’t they already at least ten? isn’t that old enough to not be annoying? you don’t find out because next thing, yeonjun’s hand is wrapped around your wist as he helps you up.
you shoot him a glare and the loud boy next to yeonjun screams, “they’re holding hands!!!”
“gosh darn, kids, your parents never touch each other or what?”
“my mother said my father’s breath smells like beer and that’s why she won’t give him kissies like she gives me them!” the girl in pigtails answers, proud for some reason. despite everything, you crack a smile at that, leaning into yeonjun’s side who’s struggling to stifle his laughter.
“i think we’ve had enough of a break, no?” he says to you and you nod, “please, let’s go before i’m forced to write about the bad parenting in my portfolio.”
about five minutes pass in you trying to break free from the group who insist on another round. another round takes two minutes before ren takes a hit to his knee and you both take the chance to leave, with you almost sprinting back to the peace of your bench in the shade.
you fall against the tree next to the bench, yeonjun close behind. “that was…” you take a moment to catch your breath, “not bad?”
yeonjun claps his hands together, “that’s exactly what i’ve been trying to tell you! this park! those kids! me? not bad!”
and well, because you guess you can allow that the whole affair isn’t half bad, it’s already evening when you’re too tired to write anymore. you look away from your almost illegible handwriting to find yeonjun gazing at you. weirdly (longingly).
he clears his throat, “you think you have enough?”
feeling weird (love-struck), you also clear your throat, “um, i should. i hope so, my fingers feel like they’re going to fall off.”
“that’s a good sign you’ve worked hard,” he pats your head. you don’t flinch away somehow. he continues, “it’s also a good sign that we should get some food.” when you narrow your eyes at him, he rushes to add, “you know, to relax your fingers.”
the excuse is ridiculous. the premise of this entire day is ridiculous. hell, yeonjun’s entire being is ridiculous. but you’re spent, your walls aren’t as rigid in the soft light of the sunset, and yeonjun’s eyes have an unreal glow when he’s silent.
and so, ridiculously enough, you answer yeonjun, “we should get sushi.”
—
that night, you return to your place to a tipsy party (?) of taehyun, soobin, and beomgyu with hueningkai glued to his phone-screen in concentration, filming everything. “you’re back!” kai announces when he opens the door, phone still recording, and you flip the camera off, not without a careless smile.
taehyun stands up at the sight of you, “i take it you had a fruitful date?” soobin laughs, so very loudly. “lmao,” (yes, soobin has the ability to say text slang out loud irl, next question please), “get it? fruit-ful? date? dates are fruits? am i drunk already?”
you shake your head at them and simply hug taehyun, feeling unbelievably affectionate today. “oh? what’s this? y/n initiating physical contact? choi yeonjun must be a god.”
you pull away, “this has nothing to do with him,” you say, sounding unconvincing even to your own ears, “i’m just tired. good night. if you make too much noise, i will take kai hostage and—”
“oh, do that anyway!! please, i’ll pay you!!!!” beomgyu shouts enthusiastically and you leave the living room before you have to witness any more of their drunken behavior.
but even in bed, you find yourself unable to sleep, mind occupied with… thoughts (is hanging out with so many men making you slightly dull? maybe. is it making emotionally constipated? absolutely. you make a mental note to schedule a lunch date with yeji later).
to be more specific, the image of yeonjun sat across from you holding out a piece of spicy tuna roll in your direction is too stubborn to leave your head. you think about yeonjun, among other things, that night.
yeonjun is no different, his mind still reeling from the realization that he’s spent an entire day with you. a day. a date? maybe, but whatever it was, you definitely couldn’t hate him too much if you could stand to spend that much time with him. you even shared a meal with him, laughed when he pretended his chopsticks were an airplane transporting food to your mouth. you humored him. you laughed with him. was that real?
—
if you think there’s nothing worse than waking up, walking out of your room— and right into yeonjun, then you’re wrong. because the disorientation you feel comes nowhere close to compare to yeonjun’s condition when he runs into you on his way to the common bathroom. he’s not sure what he else expected but it doesn’t surprise him to see that you sleep in a ginormous graphic tee (with mona lisa’s face on it?) and shorts.
“what are you doing here?”
the sense of deja vu overwhelms yeonjun for a moment before he smiles a little because your tone is not hostile, only confused. could he take this as progress? (or are you just half-asleep?)
“i’m… i’m here for brunch?” he’s a bit out of it by the time you raise your arms to stretch, heaving a half-groan, half-sigh. and listen, yeonjun’s not a pervert but he is considerably in love with you so seeing you with your slightly droopy eyes and slumped shoulders in your perfectly in-character pajamas sets off his imagination. to all kinds of destinations. (you as a domestic cat? you as a tired soul resting in his bed after a long night? god, he’s not doing this right now.)
“i don’t? i don’t remember agreeing to brunch?” you mumble confusedly, almost petulantly.
“you know,” announces soobin, suddenly revealing himself from the shadows (he’s literally been standing beside the two of you for two minutes, waiting for you to notice him. all he gets is the heat of the sexual tension between you and yeonjun. he could cook eggs on that shit.) “yeonjun was our friend before he knew you, y/n. actually, taehyun was our friend before he was your soulmate, so a brunch is a pretty normal occasion for us.”
yeonjun nods and you simply nod your head, probably too sleepy to make any witty comments at that. he shrugs, “but you’re more than welcome to join us if you want. for brunch? i’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything since our— since last night.” why’s yeonjun flustered? he’s only invited to brunch with four other people.
“i’m—” you’re cut off by yeonjun making his way to the bathroom. when he shuts the door behind him with a less than dramatic thud, you look at soobin in confusion. “so many things are happening too early in the morning.”
but brunch becomes a thing. and you join brunch, helping yourself to taehyun’s nearly perfect breakfast spread, your plate filled with bacon, eggs, and waffles.
“i say it’s nearly perfect because all we have in this house is fucking peanut butter!” you cry out, making taehyun give you a glare because he’s heard this many times before, “i don’t know how many times i’ll have to tell you this, but jam! jam is meant to be eaten with bread, it’s the only right way, it’s the way god intended things. do i look like a gym bro to you?”
“lol no,” says soobin, high-fiving you (you’re not sure if he does that because he agrees with your point about the jam, or if he’s also not a gym bro?) “y/n has a point. there’s so much more options with jam, think of all the berries you could be eating! peanut butter is the same old, same old.”
“god, i hate it when these two are in the same room.” you don’t have time to respond to beomgyu’s exasperated comment because yeonjun shifts closer to you on the sofa, coffee kettle in hand.
“want some? i’ll pour it out for you,” he offers, eyebrows raised. you pause for a second, mouth almost hanging open at how motherly he seems, but nod in a daze and watch as he stands up, takes out a black mug (that coincidentally happens to be your self-proclaimed mug) and pours coffee into it. you’re unaware of the little smile on your face when he brings it back to you, placing the hot mug next to your plate.
you’re about to think out loud about his motherliness when beomgyu follows up on his previous comment, even more boisterous, “oh, but these two in the same room are even worse.”
you look up at that to see the other three staring at you. you make a disgusted face, “why are y’all staring at me? please stop, i feel unsafe.”
“in that case, yeonjun must be feeling really fucking unsafe from how closely you’ve been staring at him,” laughs soobin, words slightly muffled from the food in his mouth. he’s lucky he’s your favorite friend (honestly, it’s just because he looks adorable with his cheeks full but eh, his personality wasn’t that bad you suppose).
“i’ve? not? been staring?” you ignore beomgyu’s snickering, picking up the coffee, “you guys need to get lives so that you stop searching so desperately for crumbs of drama here. i’m not here to serve as a source of entertainment for yo—” you promptly, contradict your statement by spilling the top half of your drink right into your lap.
while you sit there with scalding on your bare legs, it’s only yeonjun who seems concerned (overtly so, you’d observe if you’d care to admit it) with the others laughing their hearts out, satisfied at the comedic timing of your accident.
yeonjun, meanwhile, rushes to you with a handful of tissues, lips in a pout, “what the fuck, are you stupid? how do you spill that? have you never had coffee before?” you sit there trying to get the tissues from his hand, but he swats your attempts away, swiping the coffee from your thighs.
he’s much more careful that you would’ve been, making sure none of it soaks through your grey night shorts and a hand on your knee, probably to steady himself (spoiler: his hand on your knee doesn’t steady either of you, especially not him). but he manages himself well, his worrying outweighing all else as he looks up at you, “are you okay?”
you realize you haven’t said a word, eyes raising to taehyun’s who’s now looking away but watching slyly from his peripheral vision. beomgyu and soobin are in similar positions, pretending to be decent people when really, they’re over the moon.
“yeah, i’m okay, i didn’t really feel any of that,” you mumble, patting at your thighs, “but, um, sorry i wasted so much of your coffee.” yeonjun takes one of your hands, “no, don’t worry about it, i can always make more. you can’t make more of these legs.”
“okay! that’ll do it! i can’t take it any more!” beomgyu stands up with a melodramatic groan, “you two are gross, dude! like, not even in an elementary school way, you’re just objectively gross. i hate this.”
“what was that you said about not being our source of entertainment?” jokes soobin, elbow poking yours, pointing at you and then yeonjun who’s still crouching in front of you, one hand on you, “i very much feel like i’m in a k-drama right now, so i’ve no clue what you mean.”
you can sense from the tilt of taehyun’s grin that he’s about to follow suit with an equally, if not more, obnoxious comment, so you stand up, declaring, “i’m going to my room. i have a portfolio to finish in two days!”
you retire to your room after that, deciding concentrating on your work will do you some good now that you’ve… socialized? could you even call it that? you leave it at that, plopping down on your study desk where you would’ve usually conceptualized your rough drafts like you’d done yesterday in your notebook. it doesn’t compare to the park yeonjun took you to, but there is a window to your right from where you can see the slow street in front of your apartment. people-watching through that window has given you some pretty cool ideas for your pieces. you suppose it was like a pocket-sized version of your experience at the park.
you work the afternoon away, surprised to see it getting dark outside when there’s a knock at your door. you twist in your chair and call out, “come in!”
a light-brown head of hair pokes through and squinting in the darkness of your room, you can tell that’s not taehyun. “yeonjun?”
“woah, haven’t you got electricity in here?” he asks, stepping in and you see he’s put on a cream-colored cardigan on the blue shirt from brunch.
“nah, taehyun uses the money i give him for the electricity bill and gambles it all away,” you joke, sighing with feigned sorrow.
“ah, right, i forget taehyun has a gambling addiction. i’m sorry, miss, can’t imagine what it’s like to be married to someone like that.”
you laugh at that, yeonjun joining in. he leans in against the wall across from you, finding the switch to the lights in your room and turns them on. you’re both quiet for a moment.
you, because you’re reveling in the new-ness of your relationship with yeonjun. you feel like you’ve moved on in some way, no longer feeling caught up in the bitterness that had been coloring your interactions with him so far. he’s close to you, this yeonjun right now, who really, truly looks at you. you don’t even remember the yeonjun who broke your heart. (was it him who broke your heart? you begin to wonder, or just your imagination?)
for yeonjun, he doesn’t think he could’ve said anything even if he wanted to. you look so otherworldly in the dim glow of the evening, your eyes meeting his eyes, unapologetically and most importantly, without resentment. you’re beautiful, here silently in front of him, and he thinks he might have a chance with you after all.
“um,” he’s the one to break the silence, “have you eaten since brunch?”
you shake your head, “have you?”
“nope, beomgyu roped me into watching netflix with him when i tried to study,” he admits with a shy giggle, “next thing i knew the sun was setting.”
—
THE THIRD ACT: WINE FLIES WHEN YOU'RE HAVING FUN
conversations with yeonjun always lead the most unexpected places, and this one ends up with you driving with him to the supermarket. one day, you’re taking walks and playing frisbee with yeonjun, the next you’re grocery shopping with him because he’s had a whim to cook dinner for everyone. oh, how fast the night changes.. or however that one direction song goes.
“do you like spaghetti?” he asks, approaching the shelves stacked with different types of pasta.
“think before you ask me if i like pasta again, yeonjun,” you shoot back, inspecting the packets with your hands clasped behind your back. “wow, it’s been so long since i’ve been grocery shopping. taehyun never trusts me to get stuff and that’s how we end up with only peanut butter.”
yeonjun chuckles as he scans the shelves for the kind he likes and you shuffle around a lot, making little noises at all the cute shapes in the different packings. “they have heart-shaped pasta?!” you hold up the pink package excitedly at yeonjun who closes in on you with a fond smile.
“hmm, i think i get why taehyun never lets you come grocery shopping,” he starts, “it says here this a kids’ pasta.”
you regard him with your hands on your hips, unimpressed scowl on face, “you’re saying i have to be a kid to eat heart-shaped pasta? i don’t ever want to talk to you again.”
yeonjun is in a fit of laughter but he reaches out for your wrist as you pretend to walk away anyway with a hurried, “no, no, i think we should get the heart-shaped pasta.”
the rest of your trip is you roaming around being pulled off by the obscure brands and unusual types of foods while yeonjun grabs the ingredients you’ll actually need for dinner. about fifteen minutes later, when he’s done checking off everything on his list, he finds you typing away on your phone.
he catches a glimpse of the notes app on your phone and smiles as he comes to stand in front of you, “what’s up?”
“ohh, are you done?” you look away, “i got some ideas. i’ll use them for future pieces.”
“you’re done with your portfolio?” he asks. and you nod, eyes twinkling as the two of you head to the counter, “yep, i guess your plan with the park wasn’t completely a fail. it was not bad, really not bad.”
yeonjun laughs, piling the items for the worker to bill them. you gasp at the sight of a dark purple container, “you got blueberry jam?”
(fuck, his heart skips a beat. cheesy but valid. you look like you have hearts in your eyes.) “yeah, i saw it and thought you’d like it.”
you crack a delighted smile and even though both of you are paying for the groceries, you feel like you’ve been gifted the world. “i think i love you.” (you’re only joking. …right?)
—
“taehyun!!! beomgyu!!! soobin!!!!” you holler into the house, setting up five wine glasses around the table, “dinner’s ready!”
beomgyu is the first to come out, summoned by the smell of food, gaping at the fancy set-up of the two casseroles on the table, one bigger for the spaghetti and a small dedicated to your heart pasta. “woah, this looks insane,” he comments and calls out for the other two.
yeonjun emerges from the kitchen, the bottle of red wine you’d picked out with your hands. you hadn’t been the most helpful in the conquest of the pasta ingredients but you knew a thing or two about wine. this one was one the cheaper side so you didn’t have the greatest expectations for it, but it’ll have to do.
taehyun and soobin make it to the table five minutes later, shocked at seeing a table full of homemade meal. “is this, like, you and yeonjun announcing that you’re officially a couple?” soobin asks. (he’s not joking. the way the two of you stare down at the dinner you’ve put together proudly truly has him convinced that you’re finally over the pining.)
clearly this is not the case but the sight of both of you turning as red as the spaghetti for dinner is enough to elicit a few chortles from all of them. “honestly… shut up, soobin,” yeonjun scolds and you take a seat at the table wordlessly.
the dinner is an experience. it’s been a while since any of you have had good home-cooked food like this, the past few weeks having been cluttered with take-out meals and the extent of cooking you’ve done involves frozen food.
“this is so good,” you hold up a heart pasta, waving it in the air at everyone, and then at yeonjun, “i told you this would be good. it’s so good.”
“judging from the way you’re acting like a child, i’m guessing you’re done with your portfolio?”
you glare at taehyun but nod anyway, shooting him a thumbs up, “done and dusted, sir. i even managed to proof-read it before submitting it this time.”
yeonjun has been sitting beside you, eyes round with adoration at everything you say. you can’t blame him, you’d changed into a white dress with puff-sleeves before dinner which doesn’t only fit the mood but single-handedly creates it, and it’s a rare thing to see you in a dress so casually.
taehyun smiles, “i’m proud of you. even though you’re doing the bare minimum by completing your work on time.”
you roll your eyes at his twisted way of affection, the words on the tip of your tongue dying out when yeonjun leans into you suddenly, arm reaching out for the bottle of wine beside you. he shoots you a half-smile when he meets your gaze, pouring some out for you. as he returns to his position, he says under his breath, “try not to spill this on yourself, babe.”
you hold in the giddy breath that almost escapes your throat at his words, but you can’t stop the mellow feeling that blooms in your chest, eyes following him as he pours some wine for the others, too. was it the wine that was mellow or yeonjun’s voice? (hint: it was the moment of his love for you that was mellow.)
you make it through dinner, occasionally asserting the supremity of your heart-shaped pasta for kids here and there, but overall, overwhelmed by the man by your side. when everyone’s finished eating and lazing around the sofa, beers in hand (”wine is for sissies,” beomgyu aims at you because he knows you hate it when he says that, “let’s get beer guys.”), you take to the balcony with a glass full of wine to yourself.
the night air is pleasant after the warm atmosphere inside the house and you breathe through your mouth a few times, to calm your nerves. you can feel yeonjun’s eyes on you from the living room but choose to stay still, welcoming the feeling of spacing out in solitude.
“you alright?” his voice greets your ears not two moments later. (is he really close to you right now? or is the balcony just too small for two people?)
you hum affirmatively. then, you look at him, a light laugh leaving your chest. you’re leaning into his side now, you enjoy his warmth. “i’m good.”
“didn’t know wine could make you drunk,” he breathes, heart in his throat.
you shake your head at him, “i’m not drunk.” you hesitate and then, “at best, i’m tipsy.”
“i was talking about myself. i feel drunk. ‘s never happened before.”
you frown, throwing a careless glance over your shoulder, “beer and wine? yeah, that’ll make you drunk.”
“i didn’t have any beer,” he reveals. when you narrow your eyes, he continues, “i’m not lying. i don’t like to mix the two. i’ve read it gives you headaches.”
you stay silent, holding your breath for no special reason. (…)
“besides, once i start something, i like committing to it.” if his words themselves aren’t meaningful enough, the soft look on his face is full of unmistakable love.
“you’re not just talking about wine,” at first, it’s a statement you speak, your gaze fixed. then, memories of your past hurt rush in and you finish with an uncertain, “are you?”
“i’m not,” his voice is hushed and you feel there isn’t a moment lost between when he says his words and when you hear them. you’re so close to him, in all meanings of the word. “do you still hate me?”
you’re a little stunned by the jarring question. “i didn’t hate you. really, it was… something internal. like a dilemma. a phase, almost? i don’t think i could hate you if i wanted to.”
“you think?” you can feel his words inside of yourself now, even though you doubt either of you have moved any closer to each other.
yeonjun’s heart is on fire, destructive but determined. his hand brushes back your hair. “you’re so pretty when you wear your hair down.”
you hide your face in your shoulder, away from him, flustered that his words have such an effect on you. you’ve been complimented before. with much more zest, with more elaboration. but this is different. you feel like yeonjun is holding you.
he chuckles, “are you okay?”
you pull yourself away, swallowing, but not making eye-contact with him yet. “that’s the first time you’ve called me pretty.”
“that’s the first time you’ve heard me calling you pretty,” he corrects you. his fingers are in your hair again, this time to make you look at him. “you should listen to my thoughts sometime.”
you laugh and he’s moving closer, both his hands coming to your face. your hands move from where they’ve been clasping the balcony railing for dear life and find yeonjun’s waist, silently beckoning him nearer.
when your noses touch, yeonjun hums, “i’m crazy for you, y/n.”
you want to chuckle at his silly phrasing but instead, you’re saying it back, “fuck, i’m the crazy one, yeonjun. i’ve—” you stop your words, suddenly hesitant.
but yeonjun is firm, his lips hovering over yours and his question will you kiss me? unanswered because you’re already kissing him when he asks you.
(this kiss is. . . not bad.)
—
EPILOGUE: A SELF-AWARE SLANDER OF SHORT STORIES
“so…” your voice struggles to stay stable as you prop yourself on your elbows, yeonjun’s arms never letting loose of your sides. “when you say you’re crazy, is it that you’re crazy for me or crazy because of me?”
yeonjun stops in the middle of the tantrum he’s throwing with his buried in your neck. he blows out air through his mouth and you giggle, your hands pulling him up by the hair. “answer me!”
he sighs, “i don’t know, babe. both? neither? either.”
“come on, there’s a fundamental difference between the two,” you whine, “am i a symptom of your craziness or the cause of it?” he stays motionless, lips pressing against your cheek. you add, “just so you know, there’s no right answer. i’m honored to be either.”
“god, i can’t believe you’re using your boyfriend as material that’s going to be read by your entire class. a class of pretentious, sleep-deprived kids. they’ll hate me, y/n.”
you groan, kissing yeonjun’s ear lightly, “not true! you’re a very cute boyfriend.”
“so you are using me for your creative writing class?”
you pause and yeonjun flops onto the bad, pouting and feigning a cold shoulder. “the audacity of women these days!”
“hey!” you pull him back into you, “i’ll have you know that my love language is turning people into literature.”
yeonjun’s pout is already fading when taehyun’s voice breaks into your room (you should probably re-inforce the rule about knocking now that there’s a half-naked man in your room more often than not). “that’s true. she’s already written a story about me.”
your boyfriend’s interest is piqued at this, his eyes jumping between taehyun and you. “what? really?? and you haven’t written about me?”
“i’m trying to! you’re not making it easy.”
“did you ask him all these questions when you wrote a whole story about him?” taehyun cackles in glee at yeonjun’s returning pout.
you roll your eyes, “yeonjunie, it was a short story— the most unromantic form of literature. i’m basically saying i would rather write a bunch of boring description than even think about having sex with him.”
“hmm, it seemed like a pretty enthusiastic piece to me,” taehyun supplies unhelpfully. you glare at him. if you weren’t in just your bra, you would’ve gotten up to shut the door in his face.
“babe, i’m having serious doubts—”
you quickly shut down yeonjun’s whining, “i want to write a poem about you, my love. that’s why i’m asking you so much. it takes a little more to be properly romantic! i want to be truthful.”
he hesitates and you kiss his nose to seal the deal. taehyun groans in defeat, “gross. i just came here to get your asses to brunch. hyuka’s brought mint chocolate snacks from home so we need someone to handle him, so please hurry,” he starts to close the door as he leaves, but stops when the two of you make no move to wake up, “and you’d better not start fucking now! nobody needs to hear that this early in the morning, especially not poor hyuka.”
you laugh into yeonjun’s chest as he shouts back comforting words to taehyun. his lips attach to your shoulder. “i love you, y/n. you’re the explanation for my craziness.”
you shift to look back at him, smile widening, “hm, that’s interesting. can i quickly write that down-? okay, okay, sorry, i was kidding, love, come back here!!”
inspired by the song endless summer by cashae. you should give it a listen :) also I am experimenting w new fic layouts so sorry if everything’s a little different atm 💕
(note: this was originally posted for svt hoshi but I thought the concept fit yeonjun will enough with a few tweaks for character/personality - this is NOT plagiarism!)
Pairing: Yeonjun x gender neutral!reader
Genre: fluff, university!au, summer romance!au
Triggers: allusions to sex (nothing graphic), drinking
Word Count: 7k
This summer feels endless, spent in each other’s arms.
Hoshi (SVT) Ver. | TXT Masterlist
You got me wrapped around your finger
Every moment I see you
At the end of the night I’m begging please, don’t go
.
When you wake to summer sunshine streaming through the slats of your window, the first thing you see is the mop of hair that is decidedly not yours sharing the pillow beneath your head.
“Oh my god.”
The sleeping boy doesn’t awaken, which gives you a moment to process the embarrassment of having spoken to no one at all, as well as relive the memories that brought you to this moment right here.
A party you weren’t supposed to be at but that Woooyoung invited you to anyway. Drinks, music – conversation over a thumping bass with people you had just met, some games where you learned too much and laughed too loud. Someone’s hand on your knee as you spun a bottle, giggling like a teenager, then sharp eyes smiling into yours and that same hand drifting up to touch your cheek as you leaned in, mind abuzz and lips tingling as people cheered in the background –
The boy in your bed right now, soft breaths still fluttering gentle against your skin.
This time, as your eyes drift to the hair spread across your pillow, you don’t say a word. Instead you lift a hand from the rumpled sheets to touch the mop, running your fingers lightly through the soft strands. It was styled last night, you think – artfully windswept like he’d spent the day at the beach nearby, those sharp eyes crinkled into the smile he greeted you with as he laughed under the sun.
“Isn’t it a little weird to be touching a stranger’s hair while they’re sleeping?”
The words that burst from your lips are a lot stronger than oh my god this time.
Dark eyes blink open, already narrowing into that laughing smile you were remembering just moments prior. And as his gaze meets yours under the light spilling through the window, right after you had just started to calm your heartbeat, you have to take a moment to catch your breath again.
“I think I touched a lot more last night,” you finally say. He’s still so close, hasn’t bothered to shift away or move at all from his place against the pillow. If you wanted, you could give in to the lingering urge to press closer, closer, and have those lips against yours once more.
When he laughs, raspy with sleep but bright as the sun, the urge only grows stronger.
“Fair enough.” He shifts, then, letting the blankets slip from his bare shoulders. “So what happens now?”
What happens now, indeed. Not kissing, probably. But you don’t want to part from this sunshine boy either, don’t want to leave behind the messy hair and blooming smile and strong, gentle touch you remember he used with you last night, hands soft and warm against your skin.
Maybe for another one night stand you would’ve showed him the door, bade him a polite goodbye and never thought about him again. But today, as you shrug off the blankets, letting them pool around your waist…
You smile back.
And as he stares up at you with sunlight dancing in his eyes, you dare to believe he finds your grin as beautiful as you find his.
Author: Thank you so much @sunlightwoo for beta reading ! this was also how i realized that, at this point, the only fics i have written for gyu are childhood friends to lovers but it just works so well for him idk. anyways happy birthday to this special lad <3
Playlist: here
Kids can be ruthless. In a time before you really develop a filter, words come and go as they please. Be it the coldest insults a 5-year-old can muster or the weirdest questions on planet earth, things are said without much care. Having said that, kindergarten could be the worst place ever sometimes. At least that seemed to be the truth for the young boy you saw curled into himself across the playground. He sat at the edge of the primary play structure, far away from everyone else running around on the field. Head tucked into his knees; his body growing smaller as he pulled tighter and tighter into his chest. You had barely begun to learn the names or faces of your classmates, but you recognized the small yellow sweater clinging to his frame. Your mind recalled a little boy in your class wearing something similar today; he’d been extremely energetic during introductions.
He must be that boy.
Moving closer, something else in your little brain clicked at the soft shaking of his shoulders.
“Are you okay?”
The boy looked up at you. His eyes were glassy, cheeks red and puffy. He seemed so fragile, on the verge of tears. Meeting your eyes, he quickly wiped at the tear tracks marking his face.
“I-I’m fine.” The small words stuck to his throat.
Looking at his frame, shaking and alone, you decided to sit next to him, “But you’re crying.”
His mouth remained closed but he couldn’t turn to look at you.
“Why are you crying?”
“I-I wanted to go play w-with them, b-but they said I wasn’t allowed to.”
“Oh…well, you can play with me. If you want.”
The boy's soft sniffles silenced as he turned to you. “Huh?”
“Come on!” All of a sudden, his hand was in yours as you pulled him along behind you. Despite initial surprise he held, as you dragged him from game to game, the happy little boy you initially remembered surfaced once again. The two of you ran and jumped and played for what seemed like forever, off in your own little world. But, as recess slowly neared its end, so did your small pocket of joy.
Tired from all of your running, you two sat side by side in the grass.
“Look! Dandelions!” His tiny fingers plucked up a fuzzy, white ball from dirt before puffing out all the air in his lungs. Bunches of white fuzz broke apart, taking flight on their own.
“Whoa! How’d you do that!?”
“You just pick them up and blow on it, see?” He repeated his actions sending another flurry of white into the sky, “My mommy says if you make a wish while blowing, it’ll come true!”
“Really!?”
“Yep! My mommy is never wrong.”
“I wanna try!” You reached forward to the grass, fumbling around with the stem before pulling it out. Following all of his instructions, you take a deep breath before letting it all go. The seeds scatter across your vision and you quickly close your eyes to make your silent wish. When you opened them up, you found the boy watching you intently.
“What did you wish for?”
“I wish that we’ll play together every day and be best friends forever!”
16 years later
“Sour cream and onion or barbecue?”
Beomgyu holds up two huge bags of chips. He flips between the two, enticingly raising each.
“Hmm.” You let the thought simmer before coming to a conclusion, “Both.”
“Oo, spending the big bucks!”
“Go big or go home.”
“Hell yeah!” He throws the bags into your overflowing shopping cart. Before you can stop him he’s already running into the next aisle, ready to pile as many carbs as the cart would carry.
His smile is the same as the day you first met him. Curved eyes and shining teeth reminiscent of when you told him the wish you’d made on that dandelion. Who knew that such futile things would come to fruition?
Since that day, you two had become inseparable. Every day at school, attached at the hip. Your quick connection only deepened at the realization of your shared birthday. How your little hearts jumped for joy at what you saw as a true sign you were meant to be the best of friends forever. And you were. The two of you spent every day you could together; shared every birthday party and cake. Through the fun of elementary school, the energy of your childhood spent in days of freedom. Lent on one another in the hell of middle school, life, to you, falling apart at the seams as change rammed its way through you. Hiked together across the rocky terrain of high school, approaching the world head-on hand-in-hand. Now, here you are, 16-years-past and together still. Making your way through college and grappling with the last remaining bits of your adolescents. With Beomgyu by your side, life feels simpler. Your worries are mere dirt specks to be swept off your shoulder. The looming menace of your 21st birthday is but a pesky insect you can simply swat at. Though, you’re quickly reminded of the impending event as he returns to the cart waving a pack of numbered candles.
“Can’t forget these.”
“Do we even have a cake?”
“I think so?” He shrugs, nonchalant, “I don’t know, but it’s fine. We can always stick them in, like, ice cream or something.”
“I feel like that would be…a terrible idea.”
“Thank you.” Beomgyu chucks the candles atop the cart and looks back up at you, “So, do you think we need anything else?”
You look at the pile of groceries sitting beside you. There’s chips, and candy, and jello, and punch, and soda, and an obscene amount of ramyeon packets. Everything you’d think you’d need for an over-budget birthday party food table.
“I think if we get anything else the cart is going to give out.”
“Yeah, but also.” Suddenly, he pulls out a set of paper dishware covered in bright red characters, “We’re getting the Spider-man plates.”
You laugh at your friend as he adds another thing to the mess and struggles to get the cart rolling to the front of the store. Despite the reason for your trip, his childish nature shone through in the planning of the future. The slow ticking of time to the day you two must face your fate.
You often wished you could see the world as he does.
With the approach of your 21st birthday, came the looming fear of the inevitable. Of receiving your tattoo. At the first strike of midnight, the day you were to turn twenty-one, the ink would bloom across your skin. A tattoo, one of the same design, shape, place, weight, as would be found on the person you were destined to forever. Your soulmate. It’s said when soulmates meet, their marks burn bright red, warm and pulsing with the strings of their fate tying together. A red tattoo is one of found love.
For most, the prospect of soulmates was an exciting one. Hell, long before now, even you would stay awake at night thinking of the day you’d meet your soulmate. Slowly, though, your heart has changed. It’s found love on its own. It may not be predestined by the universe, but it makes your heart swell nonetheless. It is the reason for your hope in the world. But it is also the reason for your fear, your aching. Till the eve of your birthday, you’re preparing yourself to possibly have to let go of Beomgyu. Not his wonderful friendship, but the feeling that ran much deeper through your heart. While you had loved him since your second year of high school, the universe cared little for such futile things. You knew the possibility was still there; that as your tattoos appeared together, they would be the same. You also knew that may not happen and your love would simply have to fade. The thought made your heart ache as you watched Beomgyu happily pack grocery bags into the trunk of his car.
The mountain of groceries you decided to buy was starting to feel like more and more of a mistake. Attempting to lug as many bags as you could at one time up the three flights of stairs to your apartment probably wasn’t your brightest idea. Finally, with Beomgyu’s help, you dropped the last set of groceries on the kitchen table. Your body came crashing down after that, falling onto the soft living room carpet.
“God, I am never exercising again.” You groan out into the floor.
Beomgyu laughs, coming over to your limp form, “Like you ever did before.”
“Shut up.” You reach up for a pillow from the couch, attempting to throw it at his head. It misses and he makes his way onto the cushions beside you.
“Sorry, sorry. That honestly was a stupid idea. Why are your stairs so steep?”
“I think the builders just fucking hated everyone.” Rolling onto your back, you look up at Beomgyu. He’s spread out over the couch, head hanging on the arm. Fluffy brown hairs fall from his face, they curl and twist over his eyes. His skin is smooth and creamy, you want to reach out to wipe away the stray hairs dusting it. You want to move up, press kiss after kiss over the rounding of his cheeks, and trail your hands through the soft waves of his hair. But you shouldn’t. You can’t.
“How long ‘till the boys are supposed to get here?”
He lazily drags his phone into his eye line, “I mean, it’s 5:00, so about an hour.”
“Okay, thanks.” You pull yourself up to go unload the bags and fill bowls of chips.
“Wait!” Beomgyu rushes to get up with you, “Let me help you.”
He does. Together you two unpack and refill and put everything away. Comforting silence fills the space as it always does, but you can’t help but speak the question plaguing you.
“Are you scared?”
“Hm? Of what?”
“Tonight?”
“Of my soul mark? I know they’re tattoos but I don’t think they actually hurt.”
“No, no, I-I know. I mean, like, aren’t you nervous? We’re not actually meeting them, but all of a sudden it’s gonna be a worry, y’know? What if everything changes?”
“Whoa, nothing’s gonna change. Not between us, you’ll always be my best friend.” He bumps your shoulder, “You know that.”
The words hurt. He had not intended them to but they stung deep in your chest. The worst part is you knew he was right. Nothing was going to change, you would only be friends, and that was okay. A life with him as your closest friend was better than one without him at all. You’d have to let him go, but not completely.
“Yeah. I do.” A sad smile grew upon your cheeks before you shook yourself out of your head, “Anyways, that's all of the snacks and stuff, but we still need to order the pizza.”
“Oh shit! We do.” Beomgyu immediately pulls out his phone and begins typing, “If I go ahead and order it, do you think you could pick it up? Knowing Soobin, he’ll probably be here in, like, 20 minutes.”
“Yep! Just let me know when.”
“On it!”
Soobin had, in fact, shown up at your apartment 20 minutes early. Right as Beomgyu had alerted you that the pizza should be picked up soon, a knock sounded from the door. Swinging it open revealed the man holding a large gift bag. You simply sighed at your friend’s predictability, shouting to Beomgyu who was. Although, after that, you left the two alone to go get the food.
The car was silent. No music played, no sound rang except for the endless crunching of pavement beneath the wheels. You sat alone, headed down the road in silence. Your brain was completely focused on the task at hand, with no time for external worries. And, for the first time today, your head was silent as well. No racing, or rushing, just the calming waters of solitude. The silence only seemed to grow greater as you slowed to a stop in an empty parking spot. It followed you as you shuffled along the sidewalk. It was soft and warm and swallowed your brain.
It broke. You stopped in your tracks. Traffic and birds and shop music flood your senses. And there, struggling for sun in the thin cracks of the concrete, was a tiny, fluffy, dandelion. The fluorescent light shone out from the pizza place’s storefront, giving the little weed a heavenly glow. It’s enticing and you can’t help yourself as your fingers curl around the stem. The plant gives way. The tufts dance in the light as you stand enamored, twirling the flower back and forth between your fingers. Your brain can’t help but flashback to that day. The shouts of kids and buzz of bugs, like the roar of the cars passing by you. Bright sunshine and blue skies, the neon and burning shop lights. So much has changed. In the world and in you. Yet as you stand there, dandelion in hand, prepared to make a final wish; you find it is that exact same as all those years ago.
By the time you stepped back into your apartment, everyone else had arrived. Taehyun rushed over to help you with the pizza boxes as the rest shouted greetings. Walking further in revealed the boys sprawled around the living room floor. Kai and Soobin were working on setting up the game consoles while Yeonjun lounged, scrolling through his phone. Beomgyu had stood up to come help as well.
“Welcome back! The pizza smells delicious.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You set the boxes atop the table, throwing them open, “Come and get the pizza before I steal all of it!”
They come running, piling around you and filling up their plates with piles of junk food. You can’t help but laugh and join them, ready to spend this night with your favorite people. No matter what may come tomorrow.
The sun had set long ago. Everyone lay passed out all around you, tuckered out from the various things you had done. The night was fun. You played Mario Kart, and Just Dance, and watched movies, and threw popcorn and pillows at each other. For a fleeting moment, it felt like you were a kid again. You could forget every other worry in your life and just play. Slowly, the energy died down. Soobin fell asleep with his hand still stuck in a popcorn bowl; Yeonjun nodded off not long after that, as did Kai. Taehyun made the decision to sleep as well, after watching everyone else collapse. He bid goodnight; although all of them had vowed to reach the next day with you and see the moment you received your tattoos. That left only you and Beomgyu awake. There was every opportunity for either of you to clock out as well, but you sat together, watching the minutes tick to midnight.
With your backs against the couch and feet curled up under a blanket, the two of you waited. Little occurred in this time. The TV blared random late-night programs. You took to looking through your phone to keep yourself occupied. Scrolling through post after post, image after image, until Beomgyu spoke up hesitantly.
“You know how you asked me earlier if I was scared?” His hands twiddle in his lap.
You paused to drop your phone, “Yeah?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t scared of the tattoos, but…you were right about the worries.” He takes in a deep breath, “I guess, just, the feeling that I’ll no longer have that freedom in my life. Going out, crushing on strangers you see in the store or coffee shop. It’ll all come with this sense of guilt. Like you’re betraying someone you don’t even know, you know?”
You sigh. You know that feeling all too well. It had become a permanent inhabitant of your heart for the past week. It wasn’t guilt, since you had nothing to be guilty of, but the ghost of it. The shadow of vice circling your head like a halo.
“And, it just, it sucks!” There’s a sudden edge to his voice, “The universe gives you someone, someone who you think you could probably love for the rest of your life, and expects you to just take it if that’s impossible!”
“Beomgyu, I-”
“It hurts, Y/n. I-I never got to tell you.”
A breath gets stuck in your throat. You glance at the clock.
A minute left.
“Beomgyu, I love you.” Your eyes meet for a second, he’s seemingly just as shocked at the words as you are. But, you give yourself no time to care. You collide your lips with his. You bask in the plush of them, of his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as you did his. The feeling of finally getting to live out the hundreds of fantasies you’d dreamed of through high school. It’s overwhelming. You don’t want to leave his moment but the clock keeps on moving. As you two pull away, in your peripherals, you see the change. The five turns to a zero, the ones to a two. The time is gone. You can feel the change too. A design etching itself into your arm, swirling across the skin. Your eyes meet Beomgyu’s once again, the warmth of the chocolate within them suddenly disrupted. Deep red light explodes into the room. Your eyes widen at the heat working itself over your bicep, like fingers trailing their way to your new tattoo. You look down to where you felt the ink grow. There, painted across your forearm, are the thin lines of dandelion, its tufts lost to the wind. Newly red and burning. Shaped almost as if a person had plucked it to make a wish. It’s identical to the one covering the same area on Beomgyu. Water wells in the ducts of your eyes, and you can think of nothing but to grab his face and kiss Beomgyu again.
SUMMARY; You drunkenly kissed your closest friend and told him you’re in love with him. Now, you’re left with a raging hangover and an insane amount of regret. It’s okay, though. He’s a bit enamored, too. If only you both could stop acting childish and just confess… sober.
The last time you sat in Beomgyu’s expensive, luxurious car was approximately a week ago.
He had to pick you up from a party since you were quite inebriated. It was in that shameless, drunken haze, that you decided you wanted to kiss him, ergo you leaned over the dash and did just that. Of course, at a stoplight. Even your drunken-self prioritized safety above all else. The kiss was haste and messy, but absolutely perfect. However, you were too drunk to feel the way he completely melted under your touch. As if that wasn’t enough, you decided to declare your passionate, unbridled love for him.
⤷ In kindergarten, he accidentally punched your nose. Thankfully, from that, a loving, caring friendship blossomed. Since then, you both had been attached at the hip, until suddenly… you’re halfway across the globe, a couple thousand miles apart.
PAIRING; yeonjun/reader
WORD COUNT; 3.2k
GENRE; singer!yeonjun, coming of age au, angst, slight fluff
Honestly, five-year-old Yeonjun was nothing short of a nightmare. Though, he was seen this way only by you.
On a sunny day, sometime in kindergarten, he sat crouched on the playground’s field, searching for a ladybug. As for you, you believed if you found a ladybug, it could grant you a wish, thus you joined the young boy in his quest. You sat next to him, mindlessly searching the grass, and when he looked up to see you… he panicked. Other children, as he was told, are unclean and gross, and that’s exactly the sentiment he told himself as he pushed you onto the grass, causing you to scrape your elbow and bleed. You couldn’t stop sniffling as a big, crocodile tear trickled down your face; he felt terrible. In the palm of his clammy hand, he held a tiny, red ladybug, and seeing you cry, pushed him to give it to you.
his junior year only started three weeks ago and seonghwa was already completely fucking over it.
between his five classes, obnoxious upstairs neighbor and the physics class that’s already the bane of his existence, he’s ready for his second to last year of college to be over.
“or maybe you’re just like a major fucking bitch,” wooyoung says, always the first to open his mouth and say some stupid shit. “we literally just started. how could you already be done?”
genre: childhood friends/idiots to lovers, fluff, angst
wc: 10.5k
summary: spending valentine’s day with your best friend had become a sort of tradition for you two ever since you were seven years old. despite the twists and turns in your friendship as both of you grew up, the one thing that never changed was the box of candy hearts that he placed in your hands every year.
warnings: mentions of underage drinking, communication problems
note: happy valentine’s day! i am in love with one (1) man
masterlist
wednesday, february 14th; age 7
why your teacher was so insistent on making a bunch of second graders celebrate valentine’s day was beyond what your seven year-old mind could comprehend.
genre: best friends to lovers au, fluff, light angst
wc: 1.6k
summary: seeing your best friend-slash-crush kiss someone different every year under the mistletoe has burned a hatred for the plant into your heart. maybe this year’s christmas party will be different.
warnings: none
note: wish i had a yunho in my life, hope y'all enjoy!
part of my christmas bash 2020 | main masterlist
you didn’t want to be here.
christmas parties were fun, sure. seeing all of your friends was fun. drinking spiked eggnog was fun. singing obnoxiously loud and off-pitch to christmas songs was fun.
what was not fun was anticipating watching your best friend-slash-crush kiss another girl while you sat idly by.
♡ warnings — boxer yunho!au, friends to lovers, blood, bruising, fighting, minimal cursing, my slim knowledge on boxing, not edited!!!
♡ wordcount — 4.1k
♡ pronouns — she/her
♡ a/n — i’m so down-bad for yunho man : also! i don’t usually write full piece things, but i really want to get back into the grove of things like this!
bright lights, springy mats, and gloves that despite the padding to them made every hit feel as if it were skin on skin — it was the brutal beauty of boxing. the boxing life wasn’t for everyone, most couldn’t handle the intensity of it all, and couldn’t bear to watch those they cared about getting beaten black and blue every night all so they could make a little cash — but those who were able to stomach the bruises, the fractures, and the blood… they were the ones that you held close, and you never let them go.
yunho had known you since high school — back when he was an awkward teen who only had his height and academics going for him. back then yunho hadn’t had any muscle to him, something in which the girls in his class had held against him as they compared him to the elder boys in the school on a daily basis. but you, however, had taken one long look at him and decided that he was worthy of your time despite his build — or for better words lack thereof.
that was the moment that yunho had fallen in love with you.
years had gone by slowly, with academics the main focus with a side of partying on the weekends, yunho and you had grown close in your later years of high school — he hadn’t changed much in that time, but its not like it had mattered to you anyways. you had treated him like someone worthy of friendship, someone that didn’t deserve to be teased for something he had no idea how to control ; he wasn’t a gym buff who worked his body until it was strained and sore, he was just a boy trying to get by in life.
however, once those awkward high school years had passed, and yunho had taken a good long look back on how he was treated and just how much shit he had gone through, he had decided it was time for a change.
so with his gym bag packed, yunho had dedicated hours upon hours into perfecting his frame — the perfect ratio of shoulder and waist proportions, thighs that could no doubt be admired from afar by all who passed, and arms that if only he could’ve had in high school that would have gained him praise from the boys, and love from the girls.
he was proud of what he had come from, and where he had ended up — he had a body that he had once thought would be impossible for him to achieve, and a friend who had been there since the beginning ; a friend who had looked past his weak exterior and had seen something that you found endearing.
and yet with everything he could have possible asked for, yunho had to go and blow it.
walking into the building, you walked silently towards the center of the gym, the large square ring which showcased two men exchanging punches with one another. it had become a tradition of sorts, coming to see yunho take blow after blow to his ribcage before throwing his own right back towards the other — the aggressiveness of the man shimming back and forth on his feet with his hands held up in a readied position was stark in contrast to the usually stary eyed smiling boy you called your best friend.
yunho either didn’t see you lean on the ropes surrounding him, or he had decided to ignore your presence, for the time being, seeing as he drove his gloved hand against the side of his opponents face harshly, sending the man’s head snapping the other way before he inevitably collapsed against the grey mat.
“oh jesus yunho, i told you to take it easy on him,” the man who stood just a few feet to your left huffed before climbing into the ring with a now confused boy on the ground and a pouting yunho. “he’s still a newbie, he doesn’t know how we do things around here,” the man spoke again, his hands coming to rest on the boy’s neck as he stabilized his head. “go home yunho — and get some rest.”
he gave a nod and one last concerned look towards the boy on the ground before turning on his heel and walking in your direction, slipping his headgear off and taking his mouthguard out in the process. it was odd to see the male who had just knocked someone out turn with a bounce in his step and send a smile towards you — the aggressiveness of his alter ego in the wring diminishing quickly and melting back into the puppy-like boy he normally was.
“you’re late, did you get held up at work?” yunho ducked under the ropes and settled himself on solid ground, grabbing his water bottle from the side before gesturing you to follow him.
“yeah i did — my co-worker had seemingly forgotten her work etiquette today and i was left to clean up her mess when the boss came down to reem her out,” you sighed, exhausted from the day you had just had, however, hearing the chuckle that came from yunho’s mouth was all worth the wild ride.
the door to the locker room was pushed open, revealing a well light small room with benches and lockers in sight — yunho had walked over to one before collapsing onto it, taking one swing from his water before starting to remove his gloves and the wrapping underneath.
while he did that, you walked towards his locker, grabbing the towel and med-kit from within. it was a normal experience to find yourself alone in the locker room with a bruised and bleeding yunho — and it was equally as normal to find yourself dragging the alcohol wipes over the cuts, dabbing the tissue on his split knuckles, and applying the bandages over his injuries. while yunho had become one mean-looking guy, he still required someone to take care of him after his most brutal of moments.
“are you coming to my fight?”
“i’ve had the date booked off since two weeks ago yunho, who do you take me for?” you laughed at the huff he gave back, continuing to clean the mess he had made of his hands. “how do you think it’s gonna go?”
yunho sighed, grabbing the towel you had set down to his right, dragging it along his dampened skin. “i have no idea — i’ve seen the guy fight a couple of times now but each time he has a different technique,” he winced at your movements and tried to pull his hand away, but gave up when you dragged it right back into your own hand once again. “it’s gonna be impossible to tell what i’m walking into until he throws the first punch.”
“so how about you make the first move and just don’t let him get any punches in,” you bunched up the bloody tissues and wipes and tossed them into the trash can. “just go for the kill, yun.”
everyone could see how nervous yunho was for this fight — not only had he been studying his opponent’s fights for weeks, he had resorted to asking you daily if you were attending the fight despite getting the same answer every time.
“you’re all worked up for nothing yunho, i swear,” you stood in front of the male and jokingly held your fists up. “you could alway’s fight me right now,” yunho shook his head with a laugh. “i bet i’m ten times better then whatever his name is,” you softly brought your knuckles into his shoulders a few times, before giving a finishing blow to his jaw.
“calm down rocky,” yunho stood, raising his fists to knock against your own gently. “let’s go get food, i’m starving.”
the days had passed quickly after that — with the time ticking down to the big fight, you had given the space yunho needed to prepare to him, but had promised to meet him at the ringside.
he had pranced out in his black robe, his gloves, and shorts to match as he tried his best to ignore the yells around him. people were crazy about boxing, and with tonight’s matchup — an upcoming rookie versus a man who had tasted defeat only a few times before — people were sure to be loud and on edge.
as soon as he was within distance of you, yunho had stopped in front of you and turned his back, letting you drag the fabric of the robe off of his shoulders before offering the black mouth guard to him — since the beginning, it had always been you to stand ringside with his coach, and it had always been you who he looked to when a timeout was called.
“hey balboa, you’re gonna kick ass tonight i know it,” you raised your voice in hopes that he could hear you over the crowd, and with the wide smile he sent you, despite the mouthguard in his mouth, you knew he had understood your words. with one final nod in your direction and a bump against your closed fists with his gloves, yunho had climbed into the ring.
this was always the most stressful part — the calm before the storm. as a man climbed into the opposite corner of the ring, you held your breath. yunho was big — he had the height and he now had the muscle, but compared to this male, yunho was once again the young boy he was in high school, scrawny and at the will of his elders.
it felt like an eternity of tension as the two sized each other up before meeting in the middle with the ref, an introduction and good luck of some sort being exchanged between the two before they backed into their respective corners — and just as the crowd quieted for a moment, a shrieking whistle was heard and the two stepped back out.
with bouncing feet and quick shuffles forwards, backwards, and to the sides, yunho challenged the male to step forward first — he had to get a grip on how he would be fighting this match so he could properly calculate his own style.
with a bated breath, you watched yunho grow impatient and take the first big step forward and towards the male, delivering a quick yet nonlethal shot towards the male’s head. he had dodged it quickly, and sent his own gloved hand hurling for yunho’s ribs in an upward motion, successfully landing the first hit of the match.
yunho recovered and retaliated quickly, taking a step forward again and backing the male up towards the corner — he swung his fist once, landing a hit, before bouncing back and readying himself to go in for more.
what he didn’t count on, however, was his opponent to come back with little fear and swiftly strike his ribs again, one to the right and one to the left.
“c’mon yunho, you got this!” you shouted from behind, knowing that yunho was tuning out everything around him but the sound of his breaths and the sound of the referee’s voice.
the first two rounds had gone on like so — one hit received, one hit given. it was obvious to all that yunho was putting up a good fight, but the question of if he had it in him to finish it rang heavy in everyone’s minds. yunho sat on the stool in the corner of the ring, his coach speaking to him about techniques and asking him if he was alright as you dabbed at the sweat on his forehead and neck. yunho didn’t seem to be listening and instead focused on the male opposite to him with harsh eyes.
he was tired and heated — all he wanted was for the guy to go down, but he had remained as resilient a always and always recovered after one of yunho’s hardest hits. it was frustrating, to say the least.
“hey, look at me,” you spoke, your hand giving a tap to his right cheek and turning his head to look at you. “just focus on getting him out of his groove — only then will you get that opening to strike,” you wiped at the small amount of blood under his nose before smiling. “you’re jeong fucking yunho remember? you can take on that guy no problem if you can win against me,” yunho laughed slightly, focused on your words.
you had always been so encouraging of him even as he was on the ground writhing in pain or even when everyone knew he was going to lose a fight — no matter the odds that were stacked against him, you were always willing to bet against them in his name.
the referee had called the end of the break and whistles for the next and final round to commence, and with one final look towards you, yunho stood and tried to shrug off whatever was weighing heavily on his mind. with the final signal from the referee, he had silenced everything around him and focused on his opponent.
they were tired, just as much as he was, so all he had to do was have the better stamina of the two — tire him out until an opening presented itself so he could strike hard. yunho danced around the male with hits that truly did no harm, instead just to get a reaction out of the other male. he baited him, over and over again until yunho saw the slight slip in his step — the man’s foot sliding slightly on the mat, touching his positioning and balance off in general, and with as much power he could put behind it, yunho struck.
with wide eyes, you watched the large male fall backward collapsing heavily on the mat — while he wasn’t out cold, he was clearly disoriented. as you crossed your fingers, the man’s coach shouted towards him to get up as the referee leaned over him and counted, yunho waiting anxiously to see if he finally stayed down.
“... six, seven, eight, nine,” with his final count, the referee blew the whistle and rushed to yunho’s side, dragging his arm up in the process to officially announce yunho as the winner.
you barely paid attention to his coach cheering loudly next to you, nor did you realize when he had climbed into the ring to drag yunho into a bone-crushing hug — instead, you focused on the way yunho smiled in a painful satisfaction at his accomplishment, and how when he looked to the ceiling lights his eyes glittered. it was tear-jerking to see the male finally get the recognition he deserved while fighting one of the more grueling and brutal fights he had ever fought.
yunho turned in his coaches arms to give him a hug, but in doing so locked eyes with you — he gestured you to step up into the ring and celebrate with him, but you shook your head with a smile and gutted your thumb towards the locker room ; a promise to continue your ritual of patching him up afterward.
shortly after you had turned on your heel and trekked towards the locker room, hands already digging around in the bag resting on your hip for the kit you always brought to fights and the towel that you always had on hand.
he watched as you walked away from the ring, pushing through the crowd to get to where you needed to be — the smile you had sent him before you left only bringing forth a thought he had shrugged off minutes earlier.
with a check-in on his opponent, a proper bow to the crowd, and a quick cleanup of his belongings, yunho allowed himself to be ushered towards the locker room, his coach stopping at the door before giving him a pat on the back and a thumbs up — he wore a teasing grin that yunho knew all too well.
it was the grin he had always given him when you were around.
yunho sighed as he stepped into the locker room, his head ringing as the crowd still rowed loudly outside and with the amounts of hits, he had taken to his head during the fight. with unsteady feet, yunho moved towards the bench like all the times he had before, only to stumble, your body shooting up to support his own.
“oh my- yunho do you need me to get someone—” you were already on your feet, but before you could rush to the door, yunho’s hand caught onto your wrist.
“i’m fine, i’m just exhausted y/n,” yunho chuckled, squinting up at you. “you can calm down, i’m not gonna pass out on you,” he let go of your wrist and grabbed the towel to his side, holding it up for you to take. “please help me thought, because my arms feel like jello,” yunho giggled. maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off that was causing him to feel fuzzy, but he could almost swear his heartbeat sped up whenever you gave him the look.
the look being one torn between being proud of him, and one of being seriously disappointed — sure, you were able to handle most of the physical injuries of it all, but seeing yunho almost fall after tripping over his own feet was enough to concern anybody.
“okay you big suck,” you opened up the medical kit and set it in your lap, your fingers flicking through its contents before settling on what you needed. carefully taking stripping the bandages off of his hands, paying extra mind to the blood and torn skin on his knuckles that no doubt hurt like a bitch to mess with. “lookin’ like a champ,” you inspected the damage before shrugging and getting to work.
yunho simply watched in silence as you tended to his hands, his eyes fixed on your face as you focused intently on helping him without causing any more damage.
it was moments like these that yunho really thought he had one the jackpot — after all these years you had stuck with him, despite it only being as friends. you had chosen him out of his fellow classmates to drag into your life and share your secretes with.
he had seen the ugly moments, he had seen you cry, scream, and blow up over the smallest of things, yet he had also seen and experienced all the good moments by your side. he had watched you fawn over every animal you walked by on the street, the way you sang like no one was watching when the two of you were in the car together, and he had seen and was witnessing in that very moment, the care you put into helping him.
you didn’t have to do the things you did for him — booking off work to be able greet him at the ring, paying extra on groceries so your fridge was always stocked full for a hungry yunho that normally visited, and every time you would spend hours holding ice to his ribs and jaw, or all the times you had to rush to get your own medical kit in the bathroom after he had accidentally re-opened on of his slowly healing split knuckles.
“okay balboa, you’re staring is really throwing me off my game here,” you glanced up to him, your eyes squinting jokingly at him. yunho averted his gaze immediately, but took a glance back your way only to be caught once again by a giggling you. “you’re not as subtle as you think you are yunho, now why are you looking at me like that?”
“like what?” yunho tried to play dumb, but the look you sent his way again had shut him up.
“like i’m some shiny medal being dangled in front of your face,” yunho gulped at your statement. it was true, he was looking at you as if you were made out of the rarest metal and accentuated with glittering stones because in his mind, you were. you were someone who he never thought he could acquire in his life, and someone who treated him in a way that he had rarely been treated with before — you treated him with respect.
at yunho’s silence, you stopped your movements on his hand, and tilted your head to catch his eyes. “hey yun, what’s going on? you’re awfully quiet for the champ of tonight.”
“i just have a lot on my mind, that’s all,” yunho shrugged in desperation, trying to turn the topic away from himself.
“after all these years and you still don’t know i can read you like a book,” you gave a flick to his forehead. “now a penny for your thoughts?” you looked up to him, finally catching his eyes straight on.
yunho’s mind repeated the same thing to him, ‘tell her’.
“we’ve been friends for a long time y’know? since seventh grade basically,” yunho started, not paying attention to the confused look you gave him. “i remember when you first introduced yourself to me — you had this stupid sweater on despite it being a sauna in the classroom, and you had brushed by all the guys that had tried to get your attention, and ignored all the girls that called your name as you made a beeline for me,” yunho looked down at his busted up hands. “i really thought at that moment that you were going to yell at me for something, but instead you had taken a seat at the desk in front of me, unpacked your lunch on my desk, and sat silently.”
“yunho…?”
“i was a loner in school — i didn’t have friends since everyone was too afraid to be seen with the ‘beanstalk’… but you weren’t,” yunho laughed. “you had everything you could’ve needed back then — you had too many friends to count, guys falling at your feet, and a name that everyone knew and loved, and yet you chose to sit with me at lunch.”
he went quiet, reminiscing on the memory of his heart seizing as you offered him one of your juice boxes, and the way his cheeks felt as if they were on fire.
“you’re the reason i’m where i am now.”
“what are you trying to tell me yunho?”
his hands moved without hesitation, pulling your own hands into his own as he looked into your eyes with a small smile on his face.
“you’re the sole reason that i strives to be the best i could possibly be — you’re the reason i picked up a weight, and the reason i started running despite absolutely hating every second of it,” yunho brought your hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “i did everything so i could be enough for you, but in the process, you taught me how to find happiness in myself and i can’t thank you enough for that.”
his head stayed lowered against your hands, not noticing the flustered look you were giving him.
“is this supposed to be a confession—“
“i was getting there but you rudely interrupted me,” yunho snapped his head up as he laughed, the smile on his face bringing on to your own as well. “what i’m trying to say is that you make me so goddamn happy that i cannot bear the thought of you not being at my side,” he took a nervous breath. “i love you y/n, with every bone in my body, and i just wanted you to know that.”
you looked up at the boy seated on the bench, your hands still grasped tightly in his own — he was a mess, his hair still soaked from the fight, traces of blood were on both his upper lip and hands, and the blue and green bruising had already begun to settle in… and yet despite his nasty look, you had never found someone to be more beautiful then in that moment.
“how am i supposed to top your declaration of love?”
yunho stood to his feet, pulling you up to stand with him. “you could always say you return my feelings…?”
you pretended to ponder on his words, acting as if the thought of it was odd to you when in reality, his words had set thousands of butterflies free in your stomach.
“we’ll then i’m happy to say that i am hopelessly in love with you yunho.”
“even when i’m covered in blood and bruises?”
“even when you’re covered in blood and bruises — that’s the brutal beauty of you yunho.”
notes | inspired by his cardigan-hanging tutorial on universe whshhwjs
summary: in which your husband teaches you how to hang your cardigans properly.
a/n: i am in my seonghwa feels ;-;
“I don’t see how this matters, Hwa.”
“It does matter,” your husband insists, gently tugging the soft garment out of your hands. “If you hang them like this, they’ll stretch out on the hanger and you’ll get indents in the shoulders.”
Your head cocks to the side, an action he finds utterly adorable, as you bite on your inner cheek to hold back giggles at his feigned sternness. “But my way is faster.”
Ever so patient with you, Seonghwa huffs, removing the purple cardigan from the hanger. “Watch and learn, angel.”
You roll your eyes playfully, but give him your undivided attention anyways as he folds the cardigan in half, neatly lining up the sleeves. He then lays the folded garment on your shared bed, placing the hanger on top before draping the sleeves and body over its shoulders.
Seonghwa triumphantly holds up his handiwork. “See? Isn’t this better?”
“That’s it? That’s all I have to do?”
Your words earn a challenging cock of his eyebrow. “If it’s so easy, then why didn’t you do it this way from the beginning?”
You smile mischievously, the twinkle in your eye unmistakeable as Seonghwa gazes at you with adoration in its purest form. “Maybe I just wanted to give you a chance to show off.”
“Or maybe—” he lightly pokes at your side, eliciting a squeal from you as you squirm away from the ticklish sensation—“you still haven’t learnt my superior clothes-hanging skills even after all these years.”
“I don’t know about ‘superior’, Seonghwa. My way is still faster.”
Your husband tosses the folded cardigan onto the bed in favour of wrapping you in his arms, holding you to him snuggly as he peppers kisses all over your face. “Faster doesn’t always mean better, my love,” he murmurs into your hair amidst the soft giggles spilling from your lips. Having you in his embrace feels so right; he’s never been able to explain it well, but he knows you’re meant for each other, and he never wants to let you go as long as you’d let him stay by your side.
You make him believe in forever, because he can’t imagine spending the rest of his lifetime with anyone but you.
You feel him smile against your skin as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, softly inhaling the combined scent of your body wash and fabric softener—a scent that reminds him of home.
“That’s why I married you,” you tease, your own arms encircling his torso securely while he rocks the two of you side to side, “so you can teach me.”
Seonghwa pulls away slightly to look deep into your eyes. “I’ll teach you as many times as you want.”
“Yeah? You won’t get tired of it?”
“Never.”
You’re certain you’re both grinning like lovesick fools, yet neither of you care all that much. In the grand scheme of things, your existence may be inconsequential, a mere speck of dust in the great unknown, but Seonghwa makes you feel loved beyond belief. Just as how he is your entire world, you are his as well.
He leans in to kiss you, soft lips moulding to yours as he pours all the affection he carries for you in his body into the sweet gesture. Your hands come up to rest on his shoulders, feeling the soft material of his sweater underneath your fingertips as your lips move in tandem.
“I should let you give me more lessons on the intricacies of cardigan folding if they end like this,” you remark cheekily when the two of you pull apart for air, another giggle bubbling up out of you when Seonghwa subconsciously leans in to chase the feeling of your lips against his.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the sight of his attractive smirk. “Or,” he proposes, “you can learn it properly so I can kiss you without distractions.”
“Distractions, like the cardigan that you so carelessly tossed to the side earlier?”
Your husband freezes, peering over your shoulder at the crumpled heap on your bed before turning back to you with a sheepish shrug. “Oh well, some distractions are more welcome than not.”
You play with the fluffy tufts of hair at his nape, bringing his face to yours once more. “I agree.”
a/n: hehe long time no ateez fic so i give you husband!seonghwa 😞 thank you for reading and feedback is always, always appreciated 💗💗
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