HIIIII~ This is my official account where I write all my stuff!! I do have a dump account named @rineswrites I'll be posting random stuff on there. I'm apart of a lot of fandoms so I won't just be writing for one fandom. If you leave a request I can't promise you that I'll be writing it right away since I do also have school and other activities, but do best believe that I'll write it as soon as I can! LOVE LOTS!!!
▸BIGBANG⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆
C. Seunghyun | K. Jiyong | K. Daesung
▸JUJUTSU KAISEN⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍒ɞ˚‧｡⋆
S. Gojo | K. Nanami | R. Sukuna | G. Suguru | ...
▸LOVE AND DEEPSPACE⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡⋆
Sylus | Caleb | Zayne | Rafael | Xavier
▸PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍉ɞ˚‧｡⋆
J. Percy | C. Luke | G. Jason | C. Annabeth
▸Harry Potter⋆｡‧˚ʚ🌶ɞ˚‧｡⋆
Harry P. | Draco M. | Fred W. | George W. | Oliver W. | Cedric D. | Ron W. | Tom R.
▸Seventeen⋆｡‧˚ʚ🚨ɞ˚‧｡⋆
Seungcheol C. (S.Coups) | Jeonghan Y. | H. Joshua | W. JunHui (Jun) | K. Soonyoung (Hoshi) | J. Wonwoo | L. Jihoon (Woozi) | L. Seokmin (DK) | K. Mingyu | X. Minghao (The8) | B. Seungkwan | C. Hansol (Vernon) | L. Chan (Dino)
in which frat!gojo comforts his art major!s/o after a bad critique session.
tw - none. vent fic. live dove: tender and sweet.
At 2:00 PM, you got out of class.
At 2:05, Satoru checked his phone. It was only a seven minute walk from your lecture hall to his frat house, but even that was normally too long for you to wait before starting your post-workshop breakdown. You hadn’t called yet, though. He shrugged it off, going back to the video game he was playing on the living rooms’s flatscreen.
At 2:12, he checked his phone again. No call, no text. Weird. You’d been looking forward to that workshop for weeks. You’d even ditched him mid-makeout the night before to add exactly one (1) more detail to your already amazing, already crowded sculpture. Whatever. You were probably talking to your friends about how well it went, which was fine. He could live with second place if he was doing it for you.
At 2:17, you threw open his front door, stomped over to the well-beaten couch, and collapsed next to him. Satoru grinned, dropping his controller in favor of throwing an arm over your shoulders.
His voice was pure sugar - all saccharine joy and easy confidence. “There’s my favorite genius. How’d it go, baby?”
You opened your mouth, only to close it again. The cycle repeated once, twice, all without you ever managing to spit something out.
Then, you let out a single, miserable whine and began to sob uncontrollably.
Immediately, Satoru went stiff. He tried to remember how he could’ve fucked up. It wasn’t your birthday, or your anniversary, and he’d already replaced the slice of strawberry shortcake he’d stolen from your minifridge that morning. Whatever this was, it wasn’t his fault. Probably. Hopefully.
He pulled you against his side, squeezing your upper arm as gently as he could. “Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?”
Another keening whine. You cried louder.
“If someone said something mean to you, I can kick their—”
“Nobody said anything,” you cut in. Satoru flinched.
“Oh.” He blinked several times. “Which is… bad?”
“Yes, ‘toru. Really bad. No one had anything to say about my piece. It was dead silent the whole time. Dead silent.”
“Did they not like it or…?”
“I don’t know! Even if they hated it, they could’ve told me what was wrong, but they— they didn’t even—”
You broke off into a loud, ear-piercing wail. Okay. He got it. No more questions. Time for comfort.
“They’re all idiots, honey. They probably didn’t even realize it was about… What’d you say it was about, again?”
“The shortfalls of logical positivism,” you whimpered.
“Right. That. They probably don’t even know what logical positivism means.” Satoru wasn’t entirely sure if he knew what it meant, either, but he opted to keep that to himself. “Why don’t we get you off of campus for a while? I can take you to that ice cream place, the one with the—”
“No!” You shoved him away, falling onto the opposite arm of the sofa and burying your head in your arms. “I don’t want ice cream, I want critique.”
His heart soared. “I can look at your piece, if you want.”
You shook your head violently. His heart plummeted, crashed into the ground, and died in a fiery explosion.
“I don’t want you.” And there you were, the person he loved most in the world, dancing on its ashes. “You— You’re uncultured.”
“That’s not true! I’ve got tons of culture.”
“You still draw dicks all over your notes.”
“Just in the margins, and I—”
“Your favorite movie is Twilight!”
“It’s a classic,” he muttered, more than a little hurt.
“It’s derivative,” you sobbed, burying yourself that much deeper into your self-made huddle.
He sighed. “Do you want me to ask Suguru to take a look at it? I’ll snag Nanami after class, too — they’re both into artsy shit, right?”
You sniffled, nodding weakly. “And Sukuna.”
“Sukuna?”
“His minor’s in art-history. I like listening to him talk about surrealism.”
He pursed his lips. He thought about refusing - saving himself months and months of ‘you owe me one’s from the meanest guy on campus - but one more heart-breaking, half-swallowed cry from you was enough for him to cave. He let out a long exhale as he shuffled towards you, draping himself over your back. “Fine. But only because I love you. You know that I love you, right?”
You flipped over, burying your face in his chest. “I do.” And then, under your breath, muffled by his sweatshirt, “Can we still get ice cream?”
It was all he could do to grin as he kissed the top of your head.
honestly, i think it’s rather sad to see that neverdinofan account turn out like this. at first, i was on the same page as them, a bit disappointed that he didn’t debut as dino but as picheolin. either way, i’ll support him no matter what because it grows on me lol (and hey, it’s still dino sooo same person).
i believe that they’ve been suffering from an unhealthy attachment of pushing their ideology onto dino, which could also be called a parasocial relationship, to the point of saying they can say whatever they want because of their entitlement. not only that, they also gathered those so-called “fans” to send those trucks without ever considering how he would feel about it. we all know dino is a very transparent person and cares a lot about how people think of him. despite being the sunshine amongst his members, outside of svt he’s actually an overthinker.
another fact, dino mentioned back on nana bnb that he didn’t want to be the kind of idol who takes things lightly just because he knows he’ll be loved anyway, that fans will support him no matter what. i think this statement was kinda loaded, and from this i could tell he’s very self-aware too. to add on, he did say that rather than his fans acting that way, he wanted to be an artist that a fan could look back on one day and think, "oh, he really was worth loving." you could tell from this perspective that he really gives off the impression that he wants to be the kind of public figure who is responsible for his actions and words.
he wanted to give back the love he received and wanted his fans to think he was worthy of that love. he doesn’t want to be an irresponsible artist who takes things for granted (yk how stan culture works). dino is one of the most passionate idols, alongside the svt members too, and that passion could also be one of his tendencies as a perfectionist. i think he’s rather harsh on himself more than anyone else because he holds himself to a very high standard in that way.
now, when things like this happen, i’m worried because he did say that he’s traumatised by being judged, which led him to fear people because they only see one side of him (in the soop, 2021). even outside of svt, you can tell he’s a very easygoing person, and from his recent appearance on bonjour bakery, he seems like a quiet guy who thinks a lot. not to mention that one mbti gose episode where they invited a specialist to analyse their personalities, and him saying that dino is a generous person and that generosity could also be one of the factors that could lead him to depression, which made all the members worried about him. i think from this, he kind of has the tendency to be a people pleaser (this is just my assumption and observation, pls don’t attack me lol).
that really shows that dino is very sincere in his profession as an artist, alongside seventeen too. that’s the thing about sebongs, even off camera they’re very well-liked by the staff, production crews, and even the whole industry. they take so much pride in their work and always work hard while carrying humility with them, never forgetting where they started until now. seventeen are great entertainers, very hardworking, and give a lot of impact to the community and society, even children know them! and this is just my excuse to say that i really love their work ethic. even off camera, they seem like really, really genuine people irl too.
dino is a great artist. i really do admire him because he’s such an introspective person, and all his talks feel so human and relatable because it just shows how transparent he is with the way he thinks and talks. i believe his upcoming debut will be great because imagine it all started as an inside joke, then turned into a real thing. it was so unexpected but also something really, really intriguing. he’s been in the industry for almost eleven years, so i’m convinced he knows what he’s cooking and preparing more than anyone else. as a fan, i’m just going to wait and support whatever he prepares next. i believe he could make it successfully, just look at bss now.
p.s. okay, i’m done yapping lol. this is like a whole personality analysis, bruh. what can i say? he’s very admirable. the whole seventeen is. just so yk, i’m a full-time student who used to study business before changing to psychology lolol. and i’m part of the youth association, so that kinda summarises me as the person who writes these. gotta thank svt because i’ve been using their song inspo for my youth camp when i was a facilitator for their mentor-mentee programme. booseoksoon, i love you sm. we’re in this diamond shit for life.
dark red sheets swallowed you and your husband’s body as you slept together. his arms gently encircled your waist, his face pressed into the crook of your neck as per usual. zuko loved having you close like this—just beneath his fingertips. you were soft enough to squeeze and hug and kiss, grounding him even as he slept. your presence allowed him a peaceful rest, your warm body against his own a sensation he stated he couldn’t live without.
he was so quiet when he was in bed with you, sleeping through the night like a baby. at least, that’s what you had thought.
the small jerk of his fingers against your stomach was enough to make you shift, the tips of his fingers tickling you through your night clothes. he was probably just shifting around as well, getting comfortable.
but then his lips pressed themselves directly against your shoulder, his grip around you suddenly growing tighter.
“zuko…” you whined, voice laced with sleep and discomfort. zuko wasn’t one to act erratic as he slept, generally silent and still…but now it seemed a flip had switched.
“sorry..’m sorry. stop..” he whispered against your skin, but he…he didn’t seem as if he was talking to you. more like to…himself? someone else? his mumbled apologies woke you up, but before you even had a chance to turn around, to look at him—you heard him choke out a sob. it was so sudden—so unusual you couldn’t force yourself to move. zuko? crying? it wasn’t something you could proudly say you saw often—or ever.
“don’t g-go, i’m sorry.” he cried, slow tears rolling down his cheeks and gradually soaking your top. you stilled in pure shock for a moment, blinking as if time had stopped.
“zuko?”
he buried his face completely into your neck at the sound of your voice, letting his tears fall without resistance. he gripped onto you for dear life, the heat radiating from his palms out of emotion warming your skin.
you let him cry for a while after the realization set, allowing him quiet time without interruptions to just…get it all out. something you knew deep down he needed.
after a few minutes his breathing finally slowed, his tears subsiding as he held you in his arms. “i’m..i’m sorry.” this time he was talking to you, kissing your neck in apology.
he finally let you turn around to look at him, his cheeks all blotchy and pink from his own body heat, eyes red from crying. he looked so…vulnerable. never in your life had you seen him like this. a bit broken but still so desperate for your touch.
you cupped his cheek, wiping away a stray tear just below his eye. “what happened..?”
he let himself melt into your palm before shamefully replying, eyes fluttering shut to avoid the look he’d thought you’d give him.
“..it’s embarrassing.”
“zuko, it’s me…what’s wrong?” you murmured, gently pressing a kiss to his scar. he physically winced as if it hurt, knowing the pain had long faded, but something in the moment made him extra sensitive.
“it was just a nightmare..they happen sometimes, but they aren’t this bad. not like today.”
“oh, my baby..” you sighed, immediately pulling him in towards your chest. you buried your hands into his hair and he breathed a sigh of relief, his own hands pressing into your back to bring you impossibly closer in response.
“i didn’t mean to wake you this time—“
“why? why didn’t you tell me before?” you kissed his head, slowly stroking his scalp with your nails.
“i didn’t want to be a burden.” he confessed, running his fingers up and down your spine to soothe himself—and you. “i know how i am…i ..i couldn’t do that to you.”
your poor baby. your precious husband couldn’t even get himself to open up to you about something that effected him so much. it was heartbreaking.
“you can speak to me about anything. always. i love you.” you started, pulling away slightly to look him in the eye. “i didn’t write my own vows for you to take them as a joke y’know?”
he finally smiled—even if it was just a tiny quirk of his lips—you made it happen. “no..you didn’t.”
“mhm..” you hummed, leaning in ever so slowly before pressing your lips against his own. he moved his mouth back almost instantly, letting out a small noise of defeat when you pulled away.
“we have to get back to bed, zuko. you won’t get up on time tomorrow..” you chuckled, tucking a sliver of hair behind his ear. he looked so beautiful, so peaceful now.
“you’re right, i won’t…but that’s what my dear wife is for.”
illi’s notez; first time writing for atla don’t bully me ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ i haven’t seen the new movie yet either but these leaks made me sooo excited eheheh :333 zuko is literally younger me’s bf and with this fandom revive i had to get tonwritin ;(( im so hypednfornall the new fics other writes r making too omgogmgogm ok let me stop
"stubborn as a mule" is what they described you growing up. how could he forget that the day he made you his, this stubborn wife of his will never let down his one silly mistake in life!
NOTES: SECOND PART he highkey looks like jinshi so guess where some inspo came from.. enemies to lovers, misunderstanding, funny (kinda LMAO), you both have a kid, it's quite sweet i think probably. hes cutiepie!, i cant remember which comic it was that showed what happened after the war ended but theres mentions of events from there!
PAIRING: FIRELORD!ZUKO X EARTH BENDER!READER
WORD COUNT: 4K
Your early days with your gang were rocky to say the least. Not just because of your bending, but your personality as well. To be clear, you had the best relationship with everyone! They adapted to your stubbornness, but that wasn't just what you had going for you; you were confident and always stood your ground. The only time you "crumbled" was when Zuko finally joined. At first, you didn't like him, no one really did honestly.
But when he finally proved his worth and showed kindness in his own ways, that's when it started. That's when your eyes always lingered towards him, even when you didn't want them to. Why? because you never ever wanted him to notice whatever feelings you had for him. For some reason, within the group, he was the one person who hung out with you the least.
You were closer in age to Katara, so being the only other female in the group with similarities is what made your bond so strong. Being the same bender as Toph, not to mention a slight similarity in personality, you both stood strong together. Sokka, well its Sokka.. But with his very charming personality, in his own way, he always placed a smile on your face. Aang, is Aang! Everyone always got along with him because of his carefree personality.
And Zuko? Well, he, for some reason, always avoided you. It wasn't like you did anything to him. You thought maybe because he noticed how different you acted with him, maybe your soft side took a toll on him, even though you barely showed it to him. You just wanted reasons to use to explain why he never looked in your direction.
You were never a jealous person, either. As time passed, he grew closer to the others, and you stood in the awkward light. The one time he went out with Katara, you knew it was important for both of them, not only to build their relationship but to learn about each other's pasts, but for the first time, you felt a weird feeling in your chest. You didn't hold any negative feelings for either of them, and to be honest, when they came back, you ran straight to Katara, a smile on your face as she mirrored it.
And as you turned to Zuko, he briefly looked at you before turning to Katara, then the others as they came up. Your smile then dropped. You watched as he interacted with the others, but not with you. Later that night, you decided to confront him. You made it into his tent, obviously scaring him.
You didn't "crumble" in front of him; in fact, you stood as the big boulder blocking him from leaving his tent, all with this stern expression on your face. Your eyes pierced through his slightly troubled own, as if he was finally caught in the lights.
"Is there anything you need?" He slightly muttered, looking up at you.
You, on the other hand, didn't waste any time; in fact, you headed straight to the point.
"Do you hate me?"
"What?" He blurted out.
Your arms folded, your eyebrows creased as you didn't accept his answer.
"Answer me."
.
.
He looked around for a bit, shutting his eyes and inhaling deep before exhaling. He opened his eyes and looked at you, dead in your eyes, and finally answered.
"Yes, I do."
Your expression didn't change, you didn't "crumble," but everything inside you did. Maybe that's why you didn't catch on that he didn't look at you with anger or disgust. But what your ears heard, it heard that instead.
When Zuko stared back at you, he didn't see anything change, which he wasn't hoping for. He has his own hidden feelings he wished to not shine light on, but he felt that after this night, there will be no light or feelings anymore.
After that night, you decided to never ever speak to him, look in his direction, or do anything with him. But what if the other asked as to why?
"Because he said he didn't like me."
As the years passed by, obviously, you all grew and finally ended the war. As celebrations began, you were called into an empty room. Your eyes lingered on this person with the audacity and saw none other than Zuko himself. Your relationship with him was already beyond repair, because you'll never let him get past you. Not after blatantly telling you off without a reason. So why now? You wanted him to start it, explain what he wanted to say so that you can go back with everyone, and forget this ever happened.
But his reasoning reminded you of why you even had this crush on him. He sat you down, yet avoided eye contact. He felt soft, in a way, compared to your demeanor. A sigh left his lips as he finally let his feelings out.
He explained that he didn't hate you; he never did. In fact, it was very much the opposite. He developed small feelings for you, but your strong-headed personality scared him a bit. It didn't fear him to the point of always avoiding you; it was one of the reasons why you pulled him in. It was the fact that he knew he had something going on with another back at home. He was scared that if you found out, your anger might grow, and not only would you hate him, but something more.
The night you cornered him, he didn't know what to say, how to explain anything, and the stern look you gave him caused him to blurt out the only thought in his head.
As you listened to his story, you understood everything he said, maybe felt the need to falter a bit, because you numbed the feeling you had towards him, but didn't get rid of it. You still liked him. But he has to work for it. Like he did with everyone else.
Fortunately, as he had to repair the fire nation, he wanted your help as there were colonies from the Earth Kingdom. So you decided to help, decided to stay with him for a bit, and that was his moment to finally build what he wanted with you. When everyone left, to help everyone from the aftermath of the war, no one knew you decided to join Zuko. No one knew that you both even had that chat to begin with.
You both came to an agreement that you will stay with him for a while, helping him rebuild his nation. You both had very different views: you wanted to help him genuinely, then go back to your kingdom, and Zuko wanted to fix your relationship. But he didn't know how much workload he would receive from fixing a kingdom.
Days passed by, and the morning sun rested on your bed as you stood by the window. You were getting ready for the day until some guards knocked on the door. Your neck turned in the direction, softly allowing them to enter.
"Good morning, ma'am, the Lord is calling you for a matter he needs assistance with." They stated.
A sigh left your lips as you nodded, walking out of the room with the guards guiding you. With Zuko in charge now, the people were left with mixed reactions; some were happy, some were not, which was understandable. But you've noticed that those who mostly favor Ozai the most as their Lord were slowly crossing that barrier of respect towards Zuko.
Your heels echoed through the halls, but halted when the giant doors of his office came into view.
"You can leave now, thank you." You ordered as you pushed open the door, leaving the guards behind.
Your eyes landed on the man seated behind the table, head in hand, but perked up at the sound of the door opening. His eyes softened a bit when it landed on you, but he quickly looked away as your strong gaze held long, going through him.
"You summoned me." You stated, walking up towards the table.
"I did, here, the plan I had before, I don't know what to do. Aang and I almost fought over it." He muttered, handing over some papers.
"Is it about the colonies?" You asked, as your eyes scanned the paper in your hand.
Your ears caught the squeak of his chair as he rose to take a short walk around.
"It is, they have been here for over a hundred years, some even have families here, but there are some that are mixed with the people here. It doesn't feel right to just remove them and separate their families." He explained, his voice sounding upset and lost.
You looked up, eyes following his every movement.
"You visited one of the colonies, yes?"
"I did."
"And what did you think of it?"
He stopped walking, turning to face you.
"At first, I was surprised. But as I saw more, I thought that if I tried to rip them apart, it would create more chaos than calm."
As the words left his lips, for this one time, your eyes soften.
"And I think that's right. You should tell Aang that, and come up with a new plan." You told him, placing the papers back onto his table.
"If that's all, I shall see myself out." And with that, your heel turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.
"I can see you out, actually, do you want to go.." Slowly, his words got softer, and you didn't hear the last part.
"Go where." It was meant to be a question, but your voice sounded too demanding, catching you off guard a bit.
The tone of voice caused a troubled "um" to leave his lips, but he still stood his ground.
"For a walk, we can go for a walk."
He changed his question to a statement. You would've called it a bold move if he didn't look like he was going to crumble under your presence.
You took a while to answer him, on purpose, of course, staring at him straight into his eyes, watching as he failed to maintain eye contact, but in the end, you agreed, waiting at the door for him to take the lead.
The walk was quiet; you both made it out of the palace, eyes now following your every move. You paid him a favor of starting a conversation; he's already going through so much.
"Have any plans for the colonies as yet?" You started, facing him as you both walked side by side.
"Huh? Oh. I think those who have been here for a while and have families shouldn't have to go."
"I agree."
"What about you?"
"Me what?" You asked.
"Are you going back as well?"
"Probably."
"..."
When you noticed you didn't get back a response, your eyes lingered on him for a bit before facing forward.
"I said probably, that isn't a yes or a no."
"You're right." He muttered.
His down demeanor made a small smile grow on your face. Teasing him became your new. The tension was broken by a random civilian who began to shout, pointing fingers at Zuko.
Another follower of Ozai, upset with the change Zuko's making. The nearby guards got into action, ready to take care of the man, but this was your first time witnessing it in person. You felt the need to put your word into this.
"Is there a reason why you were so moved by the previous Lord Ozai's ways? Please tell. Because from what I could tell, your little whining here clearly shows that you had little to no understanding of what would've happened if Ozai got his way. For once, people like you wouldn't have such a carefree life right now; rather, you would've been working until you dropped from exhaustion or be banished from doing something as little as watching him the wrong way. So I suggest you enjoy the sun that's beating on your back, or do you want to join him down in the dark cells?"
You knew your words had an effect on everyone around; they all looked around, mainly staring at you. But the civilian was lost for words. He wanted to bite back, but couldn't. In the end, you bid Zuko goodbye, told him to finish up the problem, and you went back.
What you didn't notice was his eyes lingering longer as you disappeared into the distance.
After that incident, you haven't really seen Zuko that much, but one thing that has changed is the looks you get either from the guards or random civilians passing by. It didn't bother you that much. What bothered you is that after Zuko cleared the colonies problems, you have yet to see or hear of him.
As of right now, you were seated by your vanity, brushing your hair for the night. It was late, and you had guards outside of your room, but they didn't bother you when you decided to go on with your plan. The thought of leaving your chambers in your nightwear didn't cross your mind; the guards had no say either when their eyes followed your every move.
You could only go so long without seeing him. As stern as you may be, you were confident in your feelings. You will stand tall and confidently express your feelings if you must. But here you are, inside his office, finding him fast asleep, head resting on the papers. Seeing him in this state, you finally noticed all the aspects you hadn't before. Of course, you both grew, but it was the first time you noticed how much longer his hair got. He seemed a lot bigger than before. Your hands hovered over his face, fingers gently moving his hair out of his eyes.
As much as you felt confident in your feelings, the soft side in you doesn't really want to show the affection you wanted to. So under the moonlight, as his eyes rested, you left the room to get your spare blanket, made it back into the office, and draped it over his back. You moved his hair out of his face, finger lingering a bit more on his cheek. A sigh left your lips as your eyes traveled to the stacks of papers he still had to get through. You confirmed the thought in your head to return in the morning to offer some help, but right now, you softly placed a kiss on his forehead, caressing it one last time before making your way out.
You heard a slight shuffle, turning in his direction. A small smirk formed.
"Sleep well, Firelord."
.
.
.
You made it back into your chambers, ready for bed, when the sounds of knocking stopped your tracks. Your eyes darted to the door, allowing entry. It caught you off guard when you saw none other than the man you left to rest.
"Did you come to tell me to sleep well?" You joked a bit, sitting on your bed.
Zuko stared back at you, pulling the blanket off his back, and walked up towards you. You didn't break eye contact, not once, but he didn't as well. This was a first. He came to a stop, looking down at you as you looked up. For a bit, it was like that, that is, until he stooped to your level, knees on the floor as he placed the blanket across your back instead. He rested on his knee, getting lower, and held your hand in his. He looked up at you, sweetness lingering in his eyes.
This, for once, was new to you. He wasn't this bold before. His stare held; he didn't break it, not once. So yours soften, intertwining your fingers with his.
"Do you have something to say?" You muttered softly.
"Did I earn you?"
"Hm?" Your eyebrows rose.
"I had to work for us, prove that I really want us. Did I do it?"
Your lips were slightly opened. It closed as you slightly nodded.
"You did, for a long while."
"Hm." He softly smiled. His eyes made it down to your lips, head tilted a bit as he leaned in, his eyes locked back with yours. Soon, your lips touched, and his hands roamed your frame, resting on your waist. Yours found his cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin. You won't say it, you never will. But it was indeed your stubbornness that held all this back, keeping all the pent-up affection. He broke for air, yet still close enough that you felt his breath brushing against your face.
You tilted his face up, finger pushing his chin. It traced along his face, playing in his hair. His face rested in your palm, looking up at you in adoration and love. Slowly, you removed your hand, forcing him to move his head. Instead, your hand found his from around your frame, standing as he followed behind. A small smirk formed on your face as you fell back onto the bed, a surprised sound leaving his lips as he fell on top of you.
His hands came in contact with the bed first, preventing you both from hitting your heads. But as his eyes linger, his head finally caught up with the position you place them in, he rushed to remove himself, but your hands locked him in place first.
"Wait!-"
"Do you want me to let go?"
Your question rang in his ear, repeating over and over in his head, and with a final sigh, he rested his head in your chest.
"No.. Not really.." He muttered before looking up at you, letting his hands roam your frame as you both felt the air shift. It got heavier, warmer, and everything fell into a blur.
In the morning, your cheek rested against his chest. The warmth of his bare chest is enough to keep you asleep, but the knocking on your door broke the trance. You rose from his chest, to find out that Zuko was already up, and his fingers were raking through your hair.
You felt his hand drop as he too rose.
Your eyes studied his frame, shoulder-length hair falling around him, as his muscles moved when he stretched.
"What is it?" He asked out loud to the guards outside.
"Oh, you're in there, my Lord. I'm sorry to bother."
That's when it hit him, mid-stretch, he stopped. His eyes landed on your frame, and then his cheeks got warmer.
"I think that knock was for me." You muttered, pulling the blanket around you.
"Yeah, I think it was.." He muttered, avoiding eye contact.
"I'd never think that they would ever get together.." Sokka muttered as a little girl pulled on his ponytail, small "ow's" leaving his lips as he battled her for his own hair.
Katara smiled at the scene before standing up to get the 2-year-old off her brother. She placed her on top of Appa as giggling escaped the toddler's lips. She found joy in his fur, dragging her hands all over his head.
"I hope she grows up like her momma." Toph joked, hinting at how you were back in the days.
"Zuko would have a rough time if she does," Aang muttered, watching her as she played in Appa's fur.
The sound of the door opening caught their attention as the girl looked up, and her smile grew.
"Papa!" She exclaimed, sliding off Appa, with Aang catching her, then letting her run up to her father. She crashed into his legs, looking up at him with glee.
Before Zuko could respond, the tug of his hair caused a yelp to escape his lips.
"What about mama dear?" You softly asked, stooping to her level.
A giggle escaped her lips as she ran towards you, right into your arms. They all stared at the family, some still baffled at the idea.
"I still couldn't believe it when I saw the letter, "You are invited to our wedding!" I DON'T RECALL ANY MENTIONS OF DATING?!"
"We are right here. I'm blind, not deaf."
Sokka glared at her as her eyes stared off into the unknown distance.
"Yeah, but that means they worked out whatever tension they had," Aang said, patting Zuko's shoulder.
"In bed.." A laugh left your lips as you heard what Toph muttered. Zuko sighed, hair falling over his face as his hands found it.
"Okay, guys, they're getting married soon, let's just celebrate, please.." Katara explained, as Toph sighed. The others agreed, and they all made it into the palace.
Your daughter decided to follow behind Zuko, no care in her head that he has work to do. She'll just help him.
You, on the other hand, lead the others to their room.
"So, in the end, you didn't go back home?" Aang asked.
You shook your head.
"I don't think I ever was planning to after he invited me to stay for a while." You explained.
"And when was this invitation?" Sokka asked, sticking his nose at you.
"At the celebration. Tea shop."
"Huh? WHAT?"
You glared at him for being so loud. A sigh left your soft lips as you let them roam the palace, slowly leaving the group as you venture for your family.
You made it into the throne room, seeing the old chamberlain leaving the room, a sour look still on his face. Your eyes followed his frame before falling onto the guards as they all bowed in your direction.
Your ears caught the sound of your very loud daughter "ordering" the men around. She sat on Zuko's lap while his eyebrows creased in concern, yet his face held a smile. When her eyes landed on you, the loudest "Mama!" echoed throughout the room.
You walked up to the duo, giving Zuko a small peck before patting your daughter's head.
"Are you done here?" You asked.
"Thanks to her, we ended early," Zuko muttered, looking down at the child.
A small "hm" left your lips as you told her, "good job". Zuko's eyebrow rose as he heard it, and he let your hand pull his as he held onto their daughter and rose from his chair.
You dragged them into your shared room, Zuko placing their daughter down as she roamed around. He, on the other hand, already made his way towards the vanity, staring at himself in the mirror as you came up behind. Your fingers dragged through his long hair, slightly pulling it down, forcing him to look up at you.
Your free hand rested on his cheek, fingers roaming, and your thumb rested on his bottom lip. Your hand that raked through his hair left the locs to get the brush, but less brushing was going to happen when you leaned down to connect lips.
You felt his smile form as he moved his head up more, his hands making it onto your face as he deepened the kiss more.
Unfortunately, you both have an unruly daughter who "thinks" she can bend by calling out the element and:
"Oof-"
A gasp left your lips as your eyes landed on the book that now rested on the floor, but for sure made contact with Zuko's head.
"Air bending!" She exclaimed with a pose.
"I think not." You stated, glaring at her, about to make your way towards her, until Zuko's hand rested on yours.
"It's okay.. I'm fine." He muttered, holding his face.
"Dear, you'll get a scar on the other side if she continues."
"Let's not overreact." He joked, looking up at you.
"Huh? I'm not. What if one day she does bend and it's fire, and then-"
"OKAY. Okay.." He muttered, looking away.
He then looked at his daughter as she ran up to him, giving him a sloppy kiss, where the book landed before picking up the same book.
"Sorry papa..!" She exclaimed, before running out of the room and off to who knows where. You both sighed as you shared a look.
"She said sorry." He softly said, shrugging his shoulder.
You stared down at him, with that one look he knew and loved. A troubled look made it onto his face as he looked away. That was when the smirk made it onto yours, as your fingers made it into his long locs, to tug at it.
megumi invited you over to watch a movie after a particularly stressful day of classes. he always asked you to come over after rough days to wind down. apparently though, his classes today were so exhausting that he couldn't even stay awake for even half of the movie he invited you to watch.
"m'not sleeping...just...jus' resting my eyes..."
so he claimed.
even though he could hardly keep his eyes open, megumi kept a strong grip on the tips of your fingers. if ever you tried to shake him off or send him to bed, he would just hold on tighter and emphasize how not tired he is.
"megs, baby..." you turned off the tv. "c'mon...go to sleep...i'll see you in the morning."
he forced his eyes open and tried to look as awake as possible and make a 'serious' face—which kind of looked like a pout.
"no." he slid his hand up from your fingers to your forearm. "please don't go..."
"megs-"
"please..." he kissed your knuckles "please.." he kissed your forearm. "please." a kiss to your bicep. "please?" a kiss to your neck.
behaviour like this is abnormal for megumi. so you just laughed at his little display of clinginess.
"okay okay." you smiled and let him kiss up to your cheeks. "come to bed."
you stood and he sleepily followed you to his room and once you reached, plopped onto the bed with you in his arms.
"love you."
"love you too megs."
he kissed on and around your neck until he fell asleep.
⏾⋆.˚
you woke before megumi, like usual, and couldn't see him. you lifted the blanket to find his head nestled under your shirt.
you didn't move him.
you already know he's going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up.
if you liked ts you might like my other megumi works !
kawaiiladygirl's note: my freakquency is at an all time low so here's some fluff ig... kawaiiladygirl out !
fluff, established r/s | 821 words | like one swear word
an: i fell sick again :/
divider credit
“–and then he freaked out! It wasn’t even that bad!”
You giggle, the live feed of your best friend frantically waving her arms around as she dramatically retells a story enlarged on your laptop screen. The dying afternoon sun peeks from above your screen, golden hour flooding your apartment. You and Yerim have been on call for the majority of the afternoon, your sweet best friend’s voice accompanying you as you sit on the floor, trying to assemble a new Ikea dresser. The parts are scattered methodically as you slowly work your way through each drawer, Yerim’s voice spilling into your living room like a juicy podcast.
“Yeah? Then what did you do next?”
“Why do you always assume I did something?”
You send her a Look, one that tells her that you know her well enough to know she definitely did something. The camera does a good job of conveying your intentions because she sighs, and you throw your head back in laughter as she reluctantly jumps into an explanation.
“...So obviously, I have to–”
“I’m done!” You yell out, not caring that you’ve interrupted Yerim mid-explanation. She leans closer to the camera for a better look at the product of 3 hours of hard work, her face completely covering your screen. You pick up the laptop, angling it so that she can take a better look at it.
“Woah, Y/nnie! That looks pretty good!” If the camera is facing you again, maybe she can see how your shoulders have risen higher than Mount Everest. “That’s better than anything I’ve ever built.”
You both cringe, remembering the time Yerim tried to fix a new chair. She ended up fixing it upside down (how?!), resorting to calling you at 2am, crying for you to come over and fix it. Safe to say, she’s never touched another assembling project again.
Her lips jut out into a pout towards you when you place your laptop back on the coffee table. “How are so good with tools anyway?”
You just shrug your shoulders. “Maybe I’m just a strong, independent young woman who doesn’t need no man.”
“Yeah right, no man,” Yerim scoffs, making little quotations out of her perfectly manicured fingers.
You throw her a questioning look as you get to clearing your surroundings while Yerim continues her story. Loose screws here, cardboard boxes strewn there– you’ve certainly created a mess in the living room, sitting right in the eye of the hurricane of it all.
The front door swings open, signalling Seungcheol’s arrival. Your boyfriend walks in, takeout in hand as he smoothly removes his shoes and coat by the entrance.
“I’m home~”
“In here!” You holler back.
Shuffling towards your voice, he walks into the mess that is currently in your living room. His little figure appears in frame, prompting Yerim to wave at him.
“Hey, Seungcheol!”
“Yeri! Long time no see!” He places his stuff on the table and stoops to kiss the top of your head. “Hi, baby! Whatchu up to?”
“Cheollie~” You melt into his touch, leaning back against his legs. Your head tilts up as you bat your pretty lashes at him, arms spread out to highlight the new dresser. “Look what I did today!”
“You fixed it yourself?” You nod. He eyes the dresser, hand on his chin as he seemingly inspects it from all angles before giving a nod of approval. “Couldn’t have done it better myself!”
You grin at his compliment. Just as quickly, though, your lips curve into a frown.
“It’s a little too heavy though; I can’t carry it into the bedroom.”
“I can do that, baby. You’ve already done all the hard parts.” He pushes his t-shirt sleeves up, patting his arm as he flexes the muscles there. “I’ll do all the heavy lifting, okay?”
“Okay!” He makes a show of lifting the dresser, puffing his chest a little and letting his muscles ripple as he settles on a comfortable grip. “Bedroom right?” You hum in confirmation, and then he’s off to transport the piece of furniture to its rightful place.
On-screen, Yerim’s jaw dropped. She had literally just watched you single-handedly manhandle the dresser to its side and back up again, fully completed, mind you, just to place anti-slip stickers on its legs. Too heavy? Too heavy?!
“Don’t need no man, my ass,” she mutters loud enough for you to hear.
Your head whips towards her direction. “What was that?” Ugh, even your voice has turned sickeningly sweet at the sight of your boyfriend.
“Nothing~”
“Baby! Where do you want this?” Seungcheol’s voice rings out from down the hall. Yerim takes it as her cue to end the video call.
“I’m gonna go now. Brunch on Sunday?”
“Brunch on Sunday,” You affirm. Yerim shoots you a thumbs-up before ending the call without so much as a goodbye.
Strong independent young woman who doesn’t need to man, she scoffs. Yeah, right.
tldr: just use face i.d.? tf?
a/n: i am...delusional
“hyung?”
seungcheol didn’t look up, he typed in the password to his phone, immediately opening his messages to you, “yes, dino?”
when dino hesitated, seungcheol finally looked up. dino looked a little flustered and when seungcheol looked past his maknae’s shoulder, he saw jeonghan and joshua giggling on the other side of the practice room, trying (and failing) to be subtle about watching him and dino.
immediately sensing he was being set up, he asked again, “yes, dino?”
dino couldn’t even look seungcheol in the eye. instead he kept his eyes trained on the ground and asked, “why is it that you always type in the password on your phone? why not use face i.d.?”
seungcheol’s face instantly warmed. his eyes cut across the room to jeonghan and joshua just in time to watch them fall into a puddle of laughter. ignoring dino, he called out to them, “you guys suck!”
and with that seungcheol left. eager to see you now that practice had ended early. he was going to offer to give jeonghan a ride home on his way over to yours, but not after the shit he just pulled.
“cheollie, would you please pass me your phone? i want to change the song.”
seungcheol walked around to the other side of the kitchen island, handing it to you easily, “here, baby.”
you grabbed the phone with your spare hand, the other still stirring your dinner on the stovetop.
seungcheol bumped your hip ever so lightly, grabbing the spoon from your hand. “find the song, baby. i’ll stir.”
you smiled at him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. you held the phone up to your face, pressing the lock button, illuminating the screen. the phone, sensing your face, immediately unlocked, no password required.
after a few seconds of searching through his music app, you’d finally found the song that had been stuck in your head at work all day, the soft melody coming gently out of the speaker on your counter.
you returned to the stove, peering into the pot. bringing a hand to rest on his back, you gently pushed him from the stove. “i’ll finish up here, cheollie. grab some bowls, will you? and if you want rice, put some instant in the microwave. i forgot to make any earlier.”
he smiled, gummy and broad, relinquishing the spoon to your capable hands. “sure thing, baby. anything for you.”
there was one thing you learned very quickly while dating nanami: he took valentine’s day very seriously. he planned it for weeks, set orders of flowers ahead of time, spent paycheck after paycheck to please you—everything. that was the fervent genre of man nanami was.
you hadn’t expected it at all the first time—especially since he was your new boyfriend and not your indelibly husband. this year, he was still your boyfriend, though the love and energy he poured in felt different somehow—stronger, motivated.
nanami who you woke up to in his respectful place between your thighs, lapping at your cunt clemently. when he heard your whimper, his eyes darted to your face, simply looking up and continuing. his tongue delved in, coaxing little spurts of what your messy pussy had to offer into his waiting mouth. he held your thighs open for him, caressing the skin with his thick fingers so you could feel how much he loved you without words.
when you pulled him up by the hair to check on his wellbeing, he just smiled. “happy valentine’s day, love.” he crooned, planting a gentle kiss on your inner thigh as slick dripped down his chin. “lean back, darling. let me make you feel good.”
nanami who made you cum three times before he even started to consider himself—and only because you insisted. when it was his turn to insist on something, he kept you in missionary. that was his favorite position. he loved looking at you, being able to kiss you. letting you leave happy scratches across his broad back—everything.
with every deep thrust, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you. he was very vocal about how much he adored you. “my gorgeous girl..everything okay?” he asked, making you hold his hand the entire time.
whenever you keened to loud or a tear streamed down your cheek, he’d kiss your warm skin and caress your face. “if you’d like to stop, please tell me. i don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.” he’d pant out, his hips meeting your ass with every wet, passionate stroke. “just let me do all the work, mhm? god, you’re so perfect.”
you squeezed his hand and giggled at how doting he was being, though it was nothing out of the ordinary. “i appreciate you, kento.”
nanami ran you a bath, the cliche aspects of the gesture made both of you laugh. he put rose petals in the water, along with your favorite soap. yellowish candles lit up the room, making it feel like evening time. he settled into the water before you, then grabbed your hand helped you into the warm tub to accompany him.
he sat behind you, pulling your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you gently. he kissed along the side of your face like it was the most delicate thing he had ever known. “i have lots of plans for today. i hope i don’t overwhelm you.”
a breathless laugh left you, his concerns were never beyond you. “i think it’d be impossible for you to overwhelm me negatively, ken.” you replied, leaning back further against his warm, damp chest. the way his fingers drummed against your skin made you want to fall asleep in the comfort of his arms.
nanami hummed, kissing your head once—then again for good measure. “you can decide that later.” his voice had changed a bit..was he nervous? you kept the thought to yourself, since calling him on it directly would throw him off.
“don’t worry yourself, baby.” you assured him, turning your head so you could actually kiss him back. you pressed your lips against his softly, smiling before you could even pull away. “i love everything you do for me. future plans included.”
nanami huffed out a careful laugh, though it was partly a sigh. “how’d i get to be with such a perfect woman?”
something tender released itself throughout your entire body like an epipen whenever he spoke so sweetly about you. “i could ask the same.” you whispered, kissing him on the lips again briefly. “but i don’t have to ask myself if i want you in my life forever. you know that i do.”
and to that, nanami’s heart thudded heavily in his chest.
nanami had purchased a plethora of ingredients the night before—it was a cooking day! making breakfast together was actually your idea, leave it to him to try and make any dream or request of yours appear at your fingertips.
your boyfriend had a pink apron adorning his marvelous body. white ruffles formed a loop in the front in the shape of a pocket, though it lined the base of the fabric too. and of course, there were cartoon flowers over every inch of pink that graced the mandatory valentine’s day cooking uniform.
the best part was..he didn’t look embarrassed, he was pleased with the fact you matched him. “what’s on the menu, darling?”
you scoped out the pantry, finger drumming against the doorframe. “heart shaped pancakes, heart shaped eggs, and heart shaped fruit.” you announced, turning to him eagerly.
“objection.” he protested, crossing his big arms over the ridiculous apron. “pink pancakes.” ah, what a genius this man was.
you gaped, throwing your arms around his neck easily. “you know me so well! this is practically a proposal!”
oh, his heart was doing the thing again.
nanami always bought you a mound of gifts for valentine’s day..though he spoiled you often anyway. waiting for you on the coffee table was a countless number of little boxes and bags, all in which had his name signed with a heart. did he mistake it for christmas?
your stash included:
• 4 teddy bears
• at least 7 boxes of chocolate (enough to feed a village)
• 3 necklaces
• 2 pairs of shoes
• 6 dresses (that he’d surely undress you in!)
he usually got you a case of rings—it was a gesture you’d long memorized. you didn’t receive any rings this year, not that it was a bad thing, of course. when you opened the last box, there was a lacey, elegant piece of lingerie. classic.
“maybe you should’ve given me these last night since you decided on having morning sex” you giggled, running your fingertips over the beautiful fabric.
he simply smiled at you, eyeing the gift as if he wasn’t the one who bought it. “that’d get in the way. should i remind you that i was between your thighs?”
you huffed out a laugh. “you can remind me again tonight, i wouldn’t mind that.” you teased, nudging him.
he leaned back against the couch, his hand reaching for yours. “i’ll remind you of many things tonight, darling.” he promised, kissing your knuckles once again.
god, he was such a romantic. it made your heart lurch in your test like it was trying to reach for him. you held his hand firmly, grabbing his sharp jaw and angling it to the other side of the table where his gifts sat. “your turn!”
nanami insisted on cooking dinner, he simply refused your help. he had told you to go get dolled up, which was something you wouldn’t refuse even if he said so. when you walked into the kitchen again, it was jaw dropping.
the lights were dimmed, candles lit in only the necessary places. the large quantity of flowers he purchased had all been put into vases, pink balloons tied to various posts throughout the house. and he was at the table waiting for you, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. he wore the shirt you had stained with lipstick on your first date, there were no attempts made to remove the stain.
when you approached the table, he quickly stood and pulled out the chair across from him, unable to keep himself from staring. when you met his gaze, you were almost certain his face would crumple. it almost did, you saw it in his eyes.
“you’re so beautiful.” he practically breathed, practically frozen in place. “you always look so perfect. i don’t think you understand how beautiful you are to me.”
fuck.
nanami had decorated the back porch too, because of course he did. fairy lights adorned the wooden pillars framing the concrete. romantic wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the ambiance, you felt enchanted, the feeling felt warm and fluttered at your vibrant soul like some sort of spiritual kiss.
and you danced. it was so cliche, it felt straight out of a movie. his hand rested on your lower back, practically cradling you in the palm of his hand. you could feel the adoration through his skin, it was always that way; he never had to say anything and yet he still did.
“did you have a good day?” he asked, spinning you softly so you wouldn’t get dizzy. his hand held yours firmly, he’d be glued to you if it was in his power.
you smiled, every year you felt more special. somehow, he outdid himself every single time. “i’ve had a great day. i can’t believe you did all of this for me.” you said, stepping to the left where he glided your body.
“anything for you. valentine’s day is yours.” he said, “i’m busy with work a lot, i’ll take any chance i can get to prove my love to you.”
god, what a man.
your smile reassured him naturally, though you still felt the need to talk. “i know that you love me, i can feel it even when you’re gone.”
he nodded firmly, spinning you once before stopping. you noticed a slight tremble in his hands, what did he have to be nervous about? messing up his dance moves? “can you pour me a glass of wine?” he asked, finally letting go of your hand.
a laugh left you at that, he had probably just been stressed about all the planning. “yeah, of course.” you walked over to the side table, grabbing the two wine glasses he’d placed there. your eyes darted between the two bottles of wine. ah, right, his preference had always been flexible.
“hey, love? white or red wine?”
when you whirled back around, you noticed you weren’t even near eye level with nanami. in fact, you had to look down. when your gaze fell below where the lights hung, below the height you’d familiarized yourself with, you saw a view that froze every sell in your body—made your heart stutter and lag. there kneeling before you, was the love of your life holding up a sleek box. inside, cradled a ring.
enjoy this little unckuna snippet in the upcoming oneshot ❤️
“es’cuse me?”
You feel a little tug at your shorts and look down to find an incredibly worried Yuji, who honestly should’ve gone to an adult he knew, but here he was, deciding you were the trusted adult for the time being.
“What’s wrong?” You crouch down, getting at eye level. “Are you okay?”
“No.” He shakes his head, pointing to his shoes. “I donno how to tie my shoes.”
“You don’t?” you continue to act just as concerned. “Do you want me to tie them for you?”
“Yes, please.”
Your heart melts at his little voice. “Aw, okay.”
Like any other kid, Yuji’s amazed at how fast adults can tie shoelaces, unable to keep up with the strings crossing and looping around each other to create the little bow at the end.
“Yay!” He claps his hands, jumping in excitement. “We can play again, Gumi!”
Megumi thinks to start celebrating with his friend, but closes his mouth right after opening it.
Then you’re startled by a scoff made directly behind you. “You bother a stranger to tie your shoes and you can’t even say thank you?”
The last to freeze is Yuji, who side-eyes him, rather than turning to face him. “Um.. ya I did..”
“No you didn’t?!” Sukuna starts to argue with the three year old. “I watched you lie about not knowing how to tie your shoes and then I watched you try to run off without even thanking her.”
“I donno how to tie my shoe!” Yuji stomps a foot on the ground to prove whatever point he thought he was making.
“Yes, you do— now say thank you before I take your shoes away.”
“Oh no, not my shoes!”
“Yeah. Bye-bye, shoes.” Sukuna’s clearly enjoying this. “You’re a big boy now, remember? You don’t need them.”
“Yes I do!”
“Alright, then have some manners and say thank you.”
“Thank you for tying my shoe,” Yuji frantically says to you, then turns to his uncle and starts whimpering. “Don’t eat my shoes, Unkakuna! I need them!”
Sukuna’s even more annoyed now at how specific that was. “Who said I was gonna eat them?!”
“I dunno! You eat everything!” Yuji claims, bottom lip quivering and all, making his uncle's eye twitch in disbelief. “It’s all stuck in your big belly.”
Sukuna’s face drops, as if he didn’t see a 6-pack in the mirror this morning with his own eyes.
“I don't have a goddamn belly,” he scolds him through a clenched jaw, then lowers his tone as he begins to crouch down. “Do you want me to hit your Papa Jin?”
“No!!!”
“Then quit acting like I eat everything in sight, you little shit.”
Yuji scratches the back of his head as he continues to whine, trying to force a couple tears out. Eventually he turns to you. “He’s gonna hit my papa with his big belly.”
“Uh-oh. That's not nice,” you begin to laugh, all while Sukuna grumbles something about Jin being the one with love handles.
“Papa gonna cry,” he sighs, continuing to act distraught over the news, trying to get all the sympathy he can from you. “Hmph— poor papa.”
“I know. I don’t think he’ll hit your papa, though.”
“He’s gonna EAT my papa!” Yuji stretches his arms out, emphasizing how big of a meal that would be for Sukuna. As if it couldn't get any worse, Yuji finds a random basketball and tries to stuff it under his shirt. “Then his belly will be big like THIS.”
“Stop it,” Sukuna snaps, pointing off into the distance behind the kid. “Get out of here before I barbecue you on that grill Mr. Toji’s using.”
“Hey!” Yuji gasps. “You can’t do that!”
“You can barbecue anything when you have barbecue sauce, Yuji.” he informs the kid, then notices a mortified Megumi standing off to the side. “You’re next.”
synopsis: you don't do long-distance. you never have, and you never will. not unless it's jeon wonwoo - and those chances are slim, as it is.
genre: situationship au ; fluff, angst, suggestive themes.
pairing: situationship!jeon wonwoo x fem!reader
word count: 6.5k
rating: 18+. minors do not interact.
warnings: swearing, alcohol. drunken confessions, pining. kissing...that's about it.
what to listen to: completely - jaehyun ; love of my life - harry styles ; sleepwalking - james arthur ; can't get you out of my head - johnny goth ; wish you were here - superm.
author's note: after receiving that horrible enlistment message from pledis, i've decided to hurt myself even more! welcome back to haologram, where we wallow in despair. i know this might be similar to my previous wonwoo fic, except it's not at all because it's 10x shittier and if you say that then you hate me and you don't have to read this ♡ i'm so SAD AUGH !!! anyway, floral dividers are by @/saradika-graphics ! enjoy.
– TUESDAY, 10:52PM.
Message From: Jeon Wonwoo [Yesterday]
[11:49PM] i know i don't deserve to tell you this
[11:49PM] but i miss you
[11:49PM] and i know you're asleep but i wish you were here.
You're barely reading your messages from the night before.
You turned your phone off when Mingyu started spam calling you. You saw, from Tzuyu's location, that they had all gathered at their favorite bar, likely buying hoards of liquor to drown the sudden plummet in their chests when Wonwoo dropped the bomb on them.
A bomb he dropped on you – over text.
A singular text message, less than a week ago.
Message From: Jeon Wonwoo [4 Days Ago]
[9:21AM] hey…i'm leaving town next month for a while. i got a good job offer overseas, and i took it without considering anything else. i'm sorry, and i think we should end whatever this is. at least for now.
You hadn't replied, only sat on the edge of your bed and felt your chest constrict.
His job wasn't the issue. It'd never be the issue, you wanted him to succeed. You wanted him to feel fulfilled.
The issue was him…well, it was…
Ugh.
"Stupid men." You muttered to yourself, taking a swig out of the bottle in your hand. It was the nasty bourbon he liked, the one that burned your esophagus all the way down. Your stomach wasn't empty, per say – there was a bag of chips sitting next to you on the couch. It wasn't as enticing as it usually was, but you didn't care that the salt and vinegar didn't pair well with your drink of choice.
A drink that reminded you of Wonwoo, and would be the only thing that would once he was gone.
Unless you counted the smell of his cologne in your sheets. Or the hoodie that's draped over your shoulders, the plaid boxer shorts that belong to him covering your upper thighs. Or the champagne mustard you keep in your fridge specifically for him. Or the toothbrush he keeps at your apartment, despite the two of you being nothing more than friends.
Friends that kiss. Friends that undress each other in a frenzy, aching to feel the warmth of each other's skin. Friends that risk it every time, the raw feeling of skin on skin far too euphoric to give up.
Friends that say I love you in mumbles as they kiss, as they undress each other, as they give themselves to each other without a second thought.
Friends that had each other at arm's length for the last three years: you, because you were afraid of being too much.
And him, afraid of not being enough.
"I hate him." You mumble wearily, fumbling with the remote to flip through shows. You don't like anything, your eyes stinging with tears as you switch streaming services. Your Amazon Prime screen is too bright, and you flip through your Continue Watching…
Only to see his favorite movie sitting there, right after the last episode you'd watched of Bad Girls Club – Dead Poets Society.
Sighing, you toss your remote to the side and slide the bottle of bourbon onto the coffee table. You lean your head back onto the couch, feeling the effects of the liquor start to sink into your bones as you rustle the bag of chips. Popping one in your mouth, you chew lazily as the tears begin to slip down your face, rolling into the shells of your ears as you swallow.
"Wish you were here. What a fucking sadist."
You don't do long distance. You never have, you never will. And now, knowing that Wonwoo was leaving – the chances of you ever giving it a go were slim to fucking none.
Knock knock.
You jolt, coughing around the remains of the chip. The bag tips over, kettle chips scattering over your couch as you curse under your breath. You swipe them all back into the bag, dusting your couch off and scrunching the bag at the opening. You take a quick swig of the bottle, making a noise of disgust as it goes down.
Knock knock.
"Coming, I'm coming! God." You're wobbly on your legs, and you force yourself to concentrate as you toss the bag of chips onto your dining table. Not bothering to look through the peephole, you unlock your door to an apologetic Kim Mingyu holding a tipsy Jeon Wonwoo tight to his hip.
"No." You shake your head, moving to close the door when Mingyu gives you a pleading look.
"Please, Y/N. He won't stop crying about you, and I don't know what to do anymore. I'll literally wait in the parking lot if you can't calm him down. Please, help me out."
"Mingyu, I'm too drunk for this right now." You pinch the bridge of your nose, holding onto the frame of your door to keep steady. You're lying – you're not even near drunk. You're probably just as tipsy as Wonwoo is, and that's enough for you to not want him in your apartment. It would only end badly.
"Please, Y/N." Mingyu begs, and Wonwoo is seemingly staring straight through you.
"Don't hate me." He mumbles, and you can't help but look up at Mingyu through teary eyes.
"I'll be right downstairs, Y/N. I promise." He assures you gently, carefully shoving Wonwoo into the threshold. Wonwoo stumbles into your apartment, toeing his boots off in the foyer and disappearing into your kitchen. "I promise, Y/N. I think he just misses you."
"He ended things, Mingyu." You whisper, hearing the door to your refrigerator open. You hear him jostling around the jars of condiments, and Mingyu runs a hand through his hair as he nods.
"I know, sweetie. He told me." He winces, before rubbing his face in frustration. "I think…maybe just talk. I'll be here, I swear."
He holds out his pinky, and you weakly link your own as he ruffles your hair with your other hand. "I got you."
"Thanks…" You murmur, before moving back to shut the door. Mingyu takes his leave, quietly clambering down the wet stone steps as you turn back into your apartment. You peer slightly into your kitchen, seeing Wonwoo holding a butter knife between his teeth as he fumbles with your jar of strawberry jam. He's got the bag of bread open on top of a plate and your toaster is on, peanut butter rolled on the counter haphazardly. You roll your eyes, watching as he stares at the jar with confusion before sighing.
"Y/N!" He calls, taking the butter knife from his mouth. He leans against the pantry door, his cheeks flushed as he calls your name again. "Y/N! I need your help!"
"Idiot." You mutter to yourself, walking into the kitchen. He doesn't say anything as you grab the jar, spinning the top off with ease and holding it back out to him. He holds the knife out to you.
"It tastes better when you do it." He mumbles, his eyes low as you scoff. "Please? I didn't have dinner."
You grumble inwardly as you turn away from him, fishing another knife out of the drawer as he slides the other one into the sink. You tuck your chin into your chest as you take the bread out of the toaster, chewing your cheek as you spread the jam thickly.
"This is mine." He tugs on the hem of the hoodie you're wearing, and you glance down at the brown material covering your torso. You shrug.
"So?"
"So, I want it back."
"You're in my apartment, not in my good graces and I'm holding a knife. I wouldn't test your fucking luck tonight, Jeon." You grit, before swiping the knife on the edge of the bread to get the jam off. You open the peanut butter, flicking the cap towards the backsplash of your countertop when you feel his hands fisting the fabric as he leans into you.
"I want you back. You're mine, too." He rests his head on the back of your neck, and if he feels your shoulders tense, he says nothing. "I want you. Always."
"You're drunk." You mutter, feeling tears sting your eyes as you swipe a thick layer of peanut butter onto the toast. He groans, his breath warm against your neck and you can smell a light layer of grapefruit tequila on it. You liked the taste of it off his tongue, not so much out of the bottle.
"I need you." He tugged absently at the hoodie, "I need you to know that I love you, Y/N."
"You're drunk, Wonwoo." Rolling your eyes, you stick the bread together and slice the tip of the knife diagonally, making two triangles. He was an iffy guy, never one to finish a sandwich alone. "Here. Eat."
He doesn't take the sandwich, and you feel his hands grip your hips before turning you around with ease. Your face screams disinterest, but you can feel your chest heating at his proximity and the way his peachy cologne fills your nose. You meet his eyes, raising a brow as you take in the glassy look of his.
"You're drunk."
"I've had three shots and a beer, I am not drunk. I love you."
"Stop saying that." You shove the sandwich closer to his face, a pointed look in your eyes. It's like the bourbon you'd been drinking did nothing, because you're hyper aware of his every move and the very feeling of your blood coursing through your body. "Stop saying things you don't mean."
"I've always meant it. I'll always mean it and I'll always feel it. I love you." He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he kneads his hands into your hips. You swallow a sob, feeling the ache in your throat as you look up to will away the tears threatening to fall.
"You dumped me." You forced your voice not to tremble, cursing yourself internally as a tear slipped. You wipe it away quickly, and he nods frantically.
"I know, honey. I know, I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He buries his face into your neck, and you can feel his own tears begin to soak through the thick fabric. You sniffle, letting yourself breathe out around the lump in your throat shakily. "Please, forgive me. I'll beg. I'll do it, just don't leave me."
"I've never left you, idiot." You scoff, staring at the sandwich in your hand. You make no effort to comfort him, to run your nails down his back in soothing spirals like you would before you would fall asleep facing each other. You make no effort to soothe him, his shoulders trembling as he cries into your (read: his) sweater. You let your tears stream freely, feeling Wonwoo's arms wrap tightly around your waist and pull you impossibly closer to him.
You've always been weak when it comes to Wonwoo. You proved it time and time again: when he needed you to fill the girlfriend role at his graduation party a few years ago so his aunt would stop trying to set him up with one of the neighborhood girls. When he kissed you in a fit of jealousy at a bar in front of a nice boy who was trying to buy you a drink, and you let him take you home. When he undressed you with ease in the comfort of his bedroom and sank his teeth into any part of your body he could reach in bouts of possession, any time you'd go over.
Something you never understood, because you weren't his. Not really, not ever.
"I love you, Y/N."
"You're drunk. Sleep on the couch, we'll see how much you actually 'love' me in the morning." You mutter, shoving him off your body. You can't bring yourself to look at him, so you hold the sandwich up to his face, "Open."
He pushes your hand away, "I love you."
"Wonwoo–"
"No, Y/N. I love you. I love you and I'm sorry. Please, let me love you the way you deserve and if I can't live up to it, I'll walk out of your life forever."
His arms are still loosely wrapped around your waist, and he pulls you close. Your hands are squished between his body and yours, and you sigh inwardly. He plucks the sandwich from your hand, putting it back on the plate as he sniffles.
"Please. Just give me another chance."
"You're leaving, Wonwoo. You're leaving me behind."
"Come with me. I'll buy your ticket, I'll even get someone to take over your lease and we can be together, I promise–" You cut him off with a shake of your head, closing your eyes.
"You're leaving. That's enough to want to move on, isn't it? You don't love me, Wonwoo. You love the thought of me." You mutter, "You love knowing I'm always here. You love knowing that I wait for you, time and time again. You love knowing that even when you fail, I show up."
You open your eyes, peering up at him with a bit of poison dripping in your voice.
"You love having someone, it doesn't matter who it is. So find someone else."
He doesn't reply, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he tilts his head to the side. His eyes narrow slightly, his arms loosening around your body. You move back a bit, your lower back hitting the edge of the counter as you cross your arms and look away.
"How can I prove to you that that's not true?"
You scoff, rubbing your face with one hand. It feels hot, and you're not sure if it's from the alcohol or the closing proximity between his chest and yours.
"Tell me. I'll do it. I'll do anything." His hands are on either side of you now, gripping the counter gently as his teary eyes scan your face. For a hint, for an emotion, anything that says you want him too.
You shake your head, feeling your chest constrict as you clear your throat. "There's nothing you can do, Wonwoo."
"I'll rescind my offer. I'll drop it." He tested, and you shook your head slowly.
"There is nothing, Wonwoo. And I wouldn't want you to lose out on a major opportunity just because–"
"You are the major opportunity I'm missing out on. I took the fucking job because I couldn't stand the idea of not being enough for you. I couldn't stand laying in my room and thinking that one day you'll realize what a fucking coward I am and pick someone else. It was never about the fucking job, Y/N. It's about me not being enough for you, but still wanting to have my cake and eat it, too."
His eyes are full of sincerity, but something inside you burns.
"How can you say that about yourself?" You whispered, your eyes filling with tears as you looked up at him. "How can you think that, Wonwoo? Not enough? For me?"
He breathes out, looking at the ground between the two of you. Your socks are his, too.
"How can you not? How can you stand here, in my sweater and my boxers and my socks and tell me that you don't? Tell me that I'm a coward, tell me that I keep running from the things I love because I want to be enough and when I finally return, it'll be of no use. I'm trying to…I want…This is hard for me. Tell me it's not enough just to love you, and I'll do whatever it takes. Please."
You can hardly see him through your tears, the vision of the broken man in front of you blurred just like many of your drunken memories with him. But you remember every single one. Every kiss, every caress, every drunken I love you.
Every sober I love you.
Every single time Wonwoo showed up for you – when you needed a date to an office party so your coworkers would stop hounding you about going on a date with Hyesung from Finance. When you went on a trip with your sister and got stuck in the woods, and he drove over eight hours to get to you. When he picked you up from the shittiest date known to man, and drove you to his apartment – only to change you out of your uncomfortable dress and take you out for ice cream.
When he said I love you, every single time you needed him. Even if no one else was listening, even if you were both fully clothed and sitting in his car listening to music.
"Please."
"We should talk in the morning. I'm tipsy, you're tipsy…" You trail off, your hands coming to rest on your eyes. The cool feeling of your fingertips was enough to get you to stop crying, "This is too much for right now. You're still leaving."
"You're the only reason I'd stay." He admits quietly, his voice thick as you cross your arms again.
You stand upright, tilting your head towards the sandwich on the plate. "Eat. I'll clean up the couch for you."
He lets you slip out of the kitchen without a word, but you can feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your head. You're silent as you walk around your apartment, gathering your thickest blankets and a few pillows for him to rest on when you hear your phone buzzing incessantly on the coffee table.
Incoming call: Kim Mingyu
"Hello?" You tuck the phone between your shoulder and your cheek, and hear a sigh of relief.
"You okay? You didn't tear each other to shreds?" His voice is meek, making you snort.
"It's fine, he's just tipsy. He's sleeping on the couch. I'll call you in the morning?"
"You sure? I can come get him right now."
You glance up, seeing Wonwoo staring at the calendar on the wall in your dining room.
"Nah. Goodnight, Mingyu."
"Keep me posted."
You hang up, tossing the phone over your shoulder and moving the cushions around. You don't pay him any mind as he walks towards the bathroom, figuring he's going to brush his teeth. Fluffing pillows, you listen quietly as the water turns off and on, and the sound of the toothbrush moving back and forth.
You cap the bottle of bourbon and put it back on the second layer of the coffee table, where Wonwoo usually left it. You turn your television off, leaving the remote on the arm of the couch in case he wanted it or woke up in the middle of the night and wanted something to entertain him.
You turned off your lights, leaving the overhead stove light on for Wonwoo. It was odd to make up the couch for him – he never slept there, always in your bed. He'd wash his face, brush his teeth and snuggle into your side.
Walking towards your bedroom, you see him fishing out a pair of sweatpants from your last drawer and undoing his belt simultaneously. You roll your eyes, ducking into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You let your mind wander as you do so, quietly doing your night routine and hearing Wonwoo walk about.
It brought you some comfort, hearing the floorboards creak under him.
Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror as you wiped the wet sink down. Eyes swollen and red from the tears, the shoulder of your sweater damp from Wonwoo. Wrinkled around the waist, from his grip on it.
You turned the light off, tucking your hands into the pocket of the hoodie and slipping into your bedroom.
Only to see him lying on your bed, under your purple duvet. His glasses are still on, but his eyes are closed.
"Wonwoo."
"Mmh."
"Wonwoo, go on the couch. You're not sleeping here tonight." You tapped his shoulder, only for him to hum in response. "Wonwoo. I'm serious."
He peels an eye open, "I never sleep on the couch. I didn't sleep on the couch that one time everyone stayed over because they were too drunk to drive, you got me used to a life of luxury. Don't take it from me."
You huff, crossing your arms on your chest as he closes his eye.
"Get in and shut up."
"Yeah, right. Wonwoo, out."
"No."
"Wonwoo!" You groan in frustration, stomping your foot petulantly. You knew him. You knew he was stubborn as a fucking mule. "This is my apartment, I am not sleeping on the couch!"
"Wow, crazy." He replies lazily, before plucking his glasses off his face and sliding them onto your nightstand. "Goodnight, Y/N."
"Jeon Wonwoo, so help me God–"
He turns on his side, bringing the duvet further up on his shoulder as you gape at him.
Rubbing your face angrily, you round the bed and slide in. You turn your back to him, "Stay on your side."
He doesn't respond.
– WEDNESDAY, 2:48AM.
You can't fall back asleep.
Instead, you're laying in bed facing Wonwoo – who did not stay on his side. Your leg had been pulled over his hip, his hand splayed across your lower back, under your sweater.
You were counting his eyelashes as he slept.
"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" You start, your voice soft so as to not stir him. "You're a pain in my ass every single day, Jeon Wonwoo. You come into my life right when I'm going through one of the biggest transitions of my life, and you kiss me in the backseat of an Uber Pool. But no, you couldn't let it stop there, could you? You had to help me move into my apartment. You had to welcome me to the neighborhood, you couldn't just be the weird one-night-stand I met at a bar while celebrating my big move to the city. I would have never thought you'd be so outgoing."
Your hand moved to gently brush his hair out of his face, your thumb moving down his sideburns gently before you traced the shell of his ear.
"And then you just kept coming around. I don't know what it was that made you keep coming over, and at first I thought nothing of it. I was fine with the sex, with the shared meals, and having a companion. You were nice, and you showed me a bunch of places, and you took pictures of me and helped me get them framed. Then you introduced me to Mingyu, and oh God. He's a whirlwind, isn't he? I love that guy."
You sigh, lightly swiping your knuckles across his cheek as he breathes in quietly.
"I love knowing you. I think it took me a minute to understand you better. We were never really just friends, but you made it feel like one of the most fulfilling friendships I'd ever had when we weren't fooling around. You engaged me, and you shared your passions with me. You drove me around when I didn't have a car, and I'll never forget when I called you scared out of my mind during that trip with my sister. You came. It took you eight hours but you came and I can't imagine ever not having you."
Tears well up in your eyes, and you wipe them quickly before they can drop onto him.
"I love you, Wonwoo. Even if you're leaving. Even when I think I'm too much, you don't hesitate to calm that storm before it's even come to the surface. You've always been so gentle, and I can't imagine someone like you looking at someone like me, the complete opposite of you, and wanting that. I won't say for the rest of your life, because you're still going to be gone in a few weeks. But right now, at this moment, you're here. With me. And I love you."
You sniffle slightly, pressing your lips to his hairline in a featherlight kiss before closing your eyes. Your nose barely brushes his as you do, and you feel more tears slip out as you mumble again.
"I'll miss you."
You don't see the crystalline tear slide down his face and sink into the pillow.
– WEDNESDAY, 3:15AM.
"I hate it when you cry. You always say you look bad, but you don't."
Wonwoo's eyes are glued to your face, so close to his he can count every eyelash you have. His lips touch yours slightly as he speaks, but he can't bring himself to move back and risk waking you up.
"You'd never be too much for me. I was made to love you, even if you don't believe me. I said I'd walk out of your life forever if you didn't believe me, but I lied. I could never do that, and I've never felt more seen by someone in my entire life."
He can't touch your face like you did him, because your arm is wrapped around his shoulder and your hand is nestled in his hair. He's satisfied with the warmth of your back on his palm, his thumb tracing light circles into it. He's satisfied with this, wanting to kiss you so deeply that he's the only thing you can taste for days.
He wants to be the only one who kisses you. For the rest of your life.
"I gave up the offer. You're going to be mad when I tell you, but I'd rather ask your forgiveness than have you think I wouldn't give up everything to have you. I'd give the shirt off my back in a winter storm in the middle of Minnesota if it meant I'd have you forever…but that would also probably mean death, so. I guess I'm saying I'd die for you."
Your face scrunches suddenly, and you shift in your sleep. Your hand in his hair slides down, your fingertips breaching the collar of his shirt. He stops breathing as you run your nails across his skin gently, before it snakes back up to his hair. Your thumb moves in a circular motion behind his ear, before it stops and he feels a soft exhale from your lips.
Years of confessing to you in your sleep tell him you're still out.
"I love you, more than anything. I love that you keep champagne mustard in the fridge for me after I said I liked it once. I love that you called me when you needed that date to that office party, even if it was to get your coworkers off your back. To call you mine, in front of other people and even just have a taste of the idea…it ruined me. I can't think of anything else, with anyone else but you. Being in love with you feels like I'm constantly unwrapping a gift, but the wrapper is the gift. It makes you, it's everything you are."
Wonwoo sighs, and your face shifts closer to him. Your forehead touches his, and he's sure if he says anything else, he'll be kissing your lips.
A reward so sweet, that he has yet to deserve.
But he speaks anyway, and hopes your heart hears him.
"You don't have to miss me. I'm here. Please, only miss me when I'm at work. Only miss me when I'm not able to come over because Mingyu conned me into going out with him and the guys. Only miss me when I'm asleep and can't talk to you, but know I dream of you. Know that everything I am is you, and even when you're asleep next to me, I wish you were here. Talking, telling me every thought that comes across your mind. I love it, I love knowing you. I love you, Y/N."
He adjusts slightly, his nose bumping yours slightly but his lips no longer aligned with yours.
"Please, only miss me when I'm actually gone. Wish for me and I'll appear, my love."
His eyes close, the sting of tears overwhelming as he buries himself into you as best as he can.
"I love you. Please, love me, too."
He doesn't see the pout on your lip when you hear him sniffle.
– WEDNESDAY, 5:53AM.
You're awake again, despite your protests to whatever God was out there.
Wonwoo is also awake, his eyes glued to your necklace. A chain, actually, that you stole from him a year ago. Classic.
You're both frozen in position, your fingers tangled in his hair and his still on your back. Neither of you have said anything, and you're waiting for your alarm to go off so you can have an excuse to worm yourself out of his grasp.
You have nowhere to go. You work from home, Wonwoo knows that.
"You work today."
Your eyes glance down, seeing Wonwoo still staring at your neck. His voice is nice and raspy in the morning, and your fingers tighten in his hair out of reflex. He winces, and you grimace, rubbing the back of his head in apology.
"I do."
He doesn't say anything, instead wiggling slightly to meet your eyes. He looks up at you, tired eyes scanning your face before he closes them. He hums.
"Can we talk before you jump out and run with the excuse?" He murmurs, and you nearly scoff – when you realize he knows every trick in your book. You frown at yourself, before sighing. His eyes open, and you reach behind him to grab his glasses. He doesn't budge as you silently brush his hair out of his face, sliding them over his ears before settling back.
"...I suppose."
"I love you."
You feel your breath hitch in your chest, and you move to pull away from him when he shakes his head, holding you tightly to him. "Please, stay."
His lips are too close to yours for you to say anything without brushing them. The ache to kiss him is deep in your stomach, but you will it away with a sigh.
"I love you."
"I know, Wonwoo."
"I love you so much, Y/N." He mumbles, his hand sliding out from under your sweater to your thigh, high on his hip. He pulls you impossibly closer, "It'd be selfish of me to want a life without you, when I know you feel the same."
You look away, your eyes glued to your headboard as you try to speak around the lump in your throat.
"What does it matter? You're leaving."
His hand moves to your jaw, gently squeezing your cheeks together when you glance back down at him.
"I'm not, I won't be making that mistake again."
He presses his lips to yours, inhaling your soft sob as you kiss him back as best you can. He pushes you onto your back gently, never disconnecting his lips from yours as you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him flush to you. Your fingers find home in his hair, earning a soft groan into your mouth as you tug lightly.
"I love you. Please, please believe me." His forehead is pressed to yours, lips brushing yours as he speaks. Your eyes dart all over his face, and you choose to swallow your insecurities. You choose to allow it – if he wants to love you, flaws and all…
It's his prerogative.
"Please." He begs, his hand cradling your jaw gently as he molds his lips to yours chastely. He holds you like you'll break, with such care as you look up at him. "Love me, too. Please."
"I heard you, earlier. When you said you rescinded the offer." You murmur, watching as he nods carefully. "You need to fix that. You need to take that job."
He shakes his head, "No. I want to–"
"You need to take it, Wonwoo." You repeat yourself, your eyes pointed as your hand wraps around his wrist. His eyes are full of worry, ignoring the way your thumb against his wrist tickles and the way your warmth against him is making his head spin. You look hesitant, but breathe out gently as you speak.
"I'll still be here. I promise, I'll still love you then." You whisper, watching as he nibbles on his lip before ultimately shaking his head.
"I can't."
"You can, and you will, Jeon Wonwoo."
"I can't. You'll be here and I'll be there…I couldn't even go a week without seeing you, what makes you think I can go six months?" He groans, slumping his forehead against your collarbone. You hum, running your hand through his hair.
"Well for one, I'm hoping things are more than just this–"
"They are! They are, I love you. Please, be mine. Be my girlfriend."
He jolts up, making you snort as he squishes your face with his hands, "Say yes. Say yes right now, before I lose my mind."
"You could ask me over breakfast, at least. We could shower–"
"Can you just answer?"
"Together."
His insistence stops, and he acts nonchalant as he leans back, his hands sliding on your thighs. He shrugs, tonguing his cheek, "I mean, if you insist. Together, and all."
"You're such a fucking loser." You kick his hip lightly, making him huff as he pushes your foot away. "Go, start the water."
You shove him away gently, and he casually slides off the bed, stretching his arms over his head. You look at the clock on your nightstand, 6:17AM. You furrow your brow, reaching for your phone and seeing your alarms had been turned off.
"What the hell?"
"Oh, I turned them off last night when you were brushing your teeth."
Wonwoo squeals as he sprints out of your bedroom, followed by a throw pillow being chucked after him. It hits the doorway as he skids into your bathroom.
"Missed me!"
"You're dead when I get in there, Wonwoo!"
It's silent for a second, before you hear the water start running…
And the lock click.
"I love you, too!"
– 2 MONTHS LATER: CHICAGO, ILLINOIS.
"Whoever said long distance was easy fucking lied." Wonwoo grumbles into the phone, "My paid week off isn't for another three weeks and I feel like I'm losing my mind. I wish you were here, sweetheart."
He leans back in his desk chair, the clock reading 9:32PM. You're on the subway, he thinks. You've got a Pilates class you take during your lunch hour.
"I know, honey. Hey, on the plus side, I sent you a care package! There's lots of good stuff in there, it should arrive soon. I checked the tracking." Your voice is kind of strained as you talk, and Wonwoo frowns.
"The time difference is also a bitch. I'm about to go to bed and you're not even halfway through your day. You've got Pilates today, right?" He clicks around on his laptop, pulling up your shared calendar. He squints, seeing an added red section marked MINGYU lasting through the next three weeks. "What's going on with Mingyu?"
"The time difference does fucking suck, I agree. As for Pilates, my instructor actually overbooked my session. She won't refund me, that old hag." You scoff, "Mingyu is going out of town, and he wanted me to see if Tzuyu needed anything. Tzuyu told me in the politest way possible that she wanted me to fuck off because she's going to spend her entire week sleeping. God, I wish that were me."
"Agreed. I've gotta get going, honey. If I don't go to bed now, I'll fuck my sleep schedule and this weekend is the only free one I have. I might go some places, pick some stuff up for you." He nods to himself, and you hum in response.
"I miss you."
He feels his heart sink. "We agreed we wouldn't say that, Y/N."
"I know, it's just…ugh."
"I'll be out there in three weeks. Before you even know it, I promise." Wonwoo rubs his eyes, seeing his doorbell pick up some movement on the app. "Hang on, I think your care package is here."
"Ooh, unbox it with me! I wanna see the reaction."
He laughs, "I'll send you a video. You need to get your camera fixed, this phone call shit is ridiculous."
"Pay for it to get fixed, man! All that work abroad and nothing for the lonely sugar baby at home." You chide, making him snort.
"The most I've got to give you is all going to the ticket back to Seoul. You'll get some sugar soon. Hang on." He stands up, stretching his hands over his head as he walks to his door. He can still hear your disgusted sound from the foyer, and he peeks out his peephole to see no one on his doorstep but the box.
He opens the door cautiously, the hinges in desperate need of ointment when he feels someone looking at him. He glances up, seeing you leaned against the wall in his brown hoodie, with your duffel bag swung over your shoulder.
"Think you can give me that sugar now?"
He gapes, "You…I'm…Y/N."
"Is that a no? After I flew all this way here?" You fold your arms across your chest, rolling your eyes with a flair of sass. "God, Wonwoo. You are the one that said wish for me, and I'll appear. I am here! I appeared!"
You're right, he did say that.
"Your phone camera isn't broken, is it?" He crosses his arms, and you grin, holding out your phone that's in perfect condition. "And Mingyu's at your place, isn't he?"
"He wanted to deep clean my apartment! What was I supposed to do, say no?" You shrug, and Wonwoo just scoffs as he reaches for you, pulling you towards him by your belt loop. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I missed you, Wonwoo."
"I missed you, too. How long are you here?" He pushes the two of you into the apartment, inching the care package into the foyer before slamming the door with his foot.
"Three weeks." You murmur against his lips, moving your arm to slip your duffel bag onto the floor. He hums in response, his hands gripping your waist as he maneuvers the two of you to his bedroom.
"Hungry?"
"Nope."
"Tired?"
"Maybe when we're done."
Wonwoo doesn't do long distance. He never has, and he thought he never would. And now, knowing that you are the distance away that he needs to brace himself for – the chances of him ever giving it a go were undeniable.
He'd go days without seeing you, as long as you still loved him. He'd go weeks, months even, without seeing you as long as he still heard your voice before he went to bed and as he made his commute to work. He'd go years without seeing you, as long as he could wish you were there and you'd appear.
prompt / request — minghao finds your old fan account, and finds out that it wasn’t for him
pairing — fan!reader + boyfriend!minghao
word count — 923
genre — fluff
when you and minghao first started dating, you’d mentioned that you had a fan account before meeting him. you’d asked him if he wanted to see it but he declined and it never really came up again.
until today.
you’re just on your couch, peacefully reading your book when your usually calm boyfriend barges into the apartment.
“babe, we need to talk,” minghao states and you sit up, thinking it was a serious conversation.
“is everything okay?” you ask, seeing the serious look on his face. “no! nothing is okay! how could you!” minghao exclaims and now you’re really worried, trying to figure out what you’d done.
“what exactly did i do…” you trail off, not able to think of anything you’d done wrong recently. unless he was mad that you didn’t put the laundry away immediately or make the bed as neatly this morning. you knew your boyfriend liked everything to be neat and tidy but surely he couldn’t be this mad about that.
“i was just peacefully scrolling on my instagram explore page today when a certain fan account popped up,” minghao starts to explain, pacing the room a little.
“they posted a nice photo spread of my photo cards with a pretty tea set so i decided to stalk their page–”
“you stalk your fan’s accounts?” you raise an eyebrow, cutting him off. “i like to see my fan’s creativity. that’s not the point! anyways, i realize that this entire account is pretty much 90% dedicated to hoshi,” minghao says.
“and what’s worse is that i continued scrolling through it to find a photo of you! my girlfriend!” he exclaims.
“wait, this is why you’re upset? because you found my old fan account? babe, i told you about this when we started dating and i even asked if you wanted to see it,” you remind him.
“I’m not upset about the account. I’m upset that it’s dedicated to kwon soonyoung!” your boyfriend clarifies and you can’t help but be amused.
“seriously? it’s not that big a deal, babe. i has that account before we started dating– hell, before we even met,” you shrug, picking your book back up.
“okay but why hoshi?” he practically whines. “he was my bias back then–”
“he was your what?!” minghao gasps. “you biased hoshi? kwon soonyoung? hoshi?” he just stares at you.
“jealous?” you tease. “you biased him? your bias is a furry!” minghao gapes at you. “why did you even have so many photo cards of his,” he asks.
“okay it wasn’t my fault i always ended up pulling his photo cards in albums,” you shrug. “you should’ve sold them. and bought mine instead,” minghao states, his expression dead serious.
“aren’t you the one who tells your fans not to buy photo cards?” you give him a look. “this is different! you’re my girlfriend and you’re collecting a furry’s photo cards,” he argues.
“in my defense, i wasn’t your girlfriend when i was collecting him. besides, it’s not like hoshi’s the only one i posted on that account! I posted spreads for pretty much everyone, including you! it was just mostly hoshi and jeonghan because they were my biases,” you point out.
“oh great, so you biased the guy who thinks he’s a tiger and the one who has a pet rock,” he says dryly.
“i might’ve biased them but you’re the one I’m in love with now,” you assure him, pulling him in for a soft kiss.
“so… where is your photo card binder?” he questions after pulling away and you raise an eyebrow at him. “you are not burning my collection,” you warn.
“i wasn’t going to burn it. i was going to sell it. and then use that money to buy you photo cards of me,” he corrects.
“it’s okay babe, i don’t need a photo card of you when i have the real thing,” you tell him, kissing him again before you focus back on your book.
you think minghao lets it go after that but you’re proven wrong a few weeks later when they have their comeback.
he comes home with a gift bag for you, making you raise an eyebrow. “shouldn’t i be the one giving you a gift to celebrate your comeback, not the other way around?” you ask but happily accept the gift.
he watches as you pulled out every album version. you don’t realize that the plastic seal had been broken on all of them as you open it.
you open the first album, checking your photo card pulls as your boyfriend watched with a smirk on his face.
“oh my god, all three hao’s? i don’t think I’ve ever pulled only one member before,” you say, setting down the three different photo cards of your boyfriend.
it wasn’t until you opened the carat version that you realized your boyfriend had done something.
“seriously?” you give him a look when you flip the photo cards to reveal, once again, all of his. plus the carat binder was also his.
“i guess you’ve lost your hoshi luck, honey. you got lucky pulling all of mine,” hao says innocently.
he watches as you pick up your phone, expecting you to take a photo of your pulls but instead he sees you tapping on it, most likely texting someone.
“who are you texting?” he asks and you look up at him. “hoshi. to ask for his photo cards,” you say, dead serious.
“hey! i posed cutely for all of my photo cards just for you and you still want his?”
can I request wonwoo with cheols sis but cheol is overprotective of her bc she's her baby sis so all of svt (except cheol) knows that wonwoo and her are tgt and keep it a swcrettt
The One He Doesn't Know About | idol!Wonwoo x Reader | fluff
You really thought you could keep this secret forever.
And honestly? You were doing a damn good job — or rather, the boys were doing a damn good job covering for you and Wonwoo every time Seungcheol was around.
Your brother had always been protective, borderline paranoid when it came to you dating. Growing up with him was like growing up with a security guard, life coach, and CIA agent all rolled into one overly-muscular, hyper-aware, emotionally soft man.
But dating Jeon Wonwoo behind his back? That was dangerous territory.
And addictive.
“Stop looking at her like that,” Mingyu whispered through clenched teeth during dinner one evening.
Wonwoo didn’t flinch. “I’m literally chewing.”
“Yeah, but you’re chewing with eyes full of sin,” DK added, shoving a piece of lettuce into his mouth. “You look like you wanna devour her for dessert.”
You, across the table, tried not to choke on your rice.
Seungcheol — blissfully unaware — was sitting next to you, rambling on about the company’s new training schedule. His arm rested protectively on the back of your chair like he was warding off evil spirits. Or, in this case, evil boyfriends.
“I swear to God,” Vernon muttered, “this is gonna blow up in our faces.”
And it nearly did. So many times.
There was the accidental matching hoodie incident. The time Cheol walked into the dorm just as Wonwoo leaned in to kiss you goodbye. The way he started noticing things — how you always seemed extra giggly around Wonwoo, how he always sat near you, how everyone else got a little too quiet when the topic of dating came up.
It was a ticking time bomb. And the worst part?
You hated lying to your brother.
But you also loved Wonwoo.
He was calm in a way that steadied your chaos. He didn’t talk too much, didn’t demand your attention — but when he gave you his, it was intense, focused, real. He memorized the way you stirred your coffee. He let you fall asleep on his shoulder during long car rides. He told you he loved you when no one else was listening.
And now, sitting in the practice room at 10 PM, curled up beside him with your head on his shoulder, you knew.
You couldn’t keep hiding it.
“Cheol’s gonna kill me,” you whispered.
Wonwoo’s voice was low. “Then I’ll die for a good reason.”
You smiled, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
You made your decision the next day.
The boys were gathered in the living room. Cheol was talking to Joshua, and Wonwoo was sitting quietly beside you, fingers brushing yours subtly. Nobody said it out loud, but they all knew what was about to happen.
You stood up slowly.
“Can I talk to you?” you said to Seungcheol, voice soft but clear.
He looked up, surprised. “Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”
You took a deep breath. Your heart was beating so fast, your hands shaking slightly. The room went silent. Nobody moved.
“I have to tell you something. And… I’m scared you’re gonna hate it. Or me. But I can’t keep lying.”
Cheol sat up straighter.
You stepped forward. And before he could speak—
“It’s about Wonwoo.”
Dead silence.
You could feel the tension snap across the room like a string pulled too tight. Wonwoo stood up slowly, stepping beside you.
“I’ve been dating him,” you said, voice cracking just a little. “For a while now. And—before you explode or something—please know that I didn’t plan to keep it from you forever. I just… I was scared. Because you’re my big brother. And because you care so much.”
Cheol’s eyes flickered from your face to Wonwoo’s, back to yours.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” you went on, your voice gaining strength now. “But I couldn’t keep lying to you. And if you're gonna yell or be mad, then be mad at me — but don’t be mad at him. I chose this. I love him. And he treats me so well. Better than anyone ever has.”
You stepped in front of Wonwoo instinctively, your body shielding his like some kind of reflex. “So if you’re angry, yell at me. I can take it.”
There was a long pause.
Then Cheol… sat back. Slowly. His lips pressed together, his brows furrowed. He was quiet. Too quiet.
He rubbed a hand down his face, exhaled hard through his nose, and stayed still for a few long seconds. Everyone watched like he was a volcano on the edge of eruption.
Finally, he looked at you. Really looked at you.
“Does he make you happy?” he asked.
You blinked. “What?”
“Are you happy with him? Like… really happy?”
You nodded instantly. “Yes. He treats me with so much care. He listens. He respects me. He makes me feel safe. And I know you don’t like trusting other people with me, but—Cheol… you can trust him.”
He nodded once, slowly.
“Alright,” he said quietly. Then his voice got firm. “Everyone — out. Except Wonwoo and her.”
Nobody argued. In fact, the room cleared in record time.
Wonwoo stood still, his hands calmly at his sides, gaze locked on your brother.
Cheol didn’t say anything for a few moments. He just stared at him. Measured him.
Then he said:
“You really love her?”
Wonwoo nodded. “I do.”
“You know she’s the most important person in my life.”
“I know.”
“And if you ever—ever—make her cry, hurt her, or make her feel like she’s not enough... I don’t care if you’re my member, my best friend, or the Pope — I will break every bone in your body. Do you understand me?”
Wonwoo didn’t even flinch. “I do.”
Cheol took another breath.
“But I also know you. And I’ve watched the way you look at her. And if I’m being honest…” He looked down briefly, rubbing his temples. “I kind of already knew.”
You blinked. “Wait—you did?”
“Y/N,” he said, raising a brow. “You’re not exactly subtle. Matching bracelets? That time he slipped and called you ‘babe’? You two thought you were sneaky. You were not.”
You flushed hard.
“I just didn’t want to admit it,” he said, more softly now. “Because it scared me. She’s my baby sister. And I’ve always tried to protect her. But…” He looked between the two of you. “If I can’t be the one protecting her, I’d rather it be someone like you.”
You felt the sting in your eyes return. This time, you didn’t fight it.
Wonwoo, still calm, moved closer and took your hand. Cheol didn’t stop him.
“I’m trusting you with her,” he said, voice serious but warm. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“I won’t,” Wonwoo promised.
Cheol finally smiled, just a little. “Good. Because if you do… I’ll know. And I’ll come for you.”
Later that night, the boys crept back into the living room, peeking through the doorway like middle-schoolers.
“What happened?” Minghao whispered.
“Are they alive?” Seungkwan hissed.
DK gasped. “Are they cuddling?”
“Did they kiss?!” Hoshi whispered dramatically.
“You’re all so nosy,” Cheol muttered, walking past them. “They’re fine. I’m fine. Mind your own business.”
“Wait, you’re not mad?” Vernon asked, shocked.
“Nope.”
“...Are you gonna cry?” Jeonghan teased.
“Shut up.”
But later that night, you found a note outside your door.
"You’re always my little sister. But now… you’re also someone’s girlfriend. And I’m proud of you for choosing someone who sees you the way you deserve to be seen."
—Cheol 🖤
You pressed the note to your chest and smiled through your tears.
You really tried to get into gaming, but it just really wasn't for you. The game barely starts, but you've already gotten yourself killed, chickened out in the middle of a horror game cause you just couldn't take the awaiting jumpscares, or you just didn't enjoy the game at all.
Wonwoo has been patient and you can't help but feel bad even more. You know he understands that you dont always have to share the same interests as him, you were your own individual and he was too. But you can't help but feel guilty everytime he played alone. You'll sometimes hear him talk to one of his members as he plays, and you just wonder what would it be like to play with them, but you just couldn't bring yourself to.
While Wonwoo loved playing, you loved doing your own things like embroidering, doing paint by number, or your current obsession, diamond painting. You kept yourself busy when Wonwoo would enter his home office where his gaming set up was, ready to start playing any game he found interesting at that moment.
"Call me when you need me, baby," He says softly, before leaving a trail of kisses from your cheek to you lips. You hum in content as his lips finally connected with yours. It was slow and full of love, just like every kiss you shared with him. You pout when he disconnects you both and you earn a soft chuckle and another soft kiss pressed to your lips.
"You know where to find me," He says before getting up and walking to his gaming room. You turn back to your diamond painting, a costumized picture of your dog Cheon, whom you both adopted a year after you moved in together.
It was quiet aside from the quiet hum of your Playlist playing softly in the background. This was your definition of passing time. Your hobby. But you couldn't help but think it would be better if Wonwoo was by your side. He tried to get into your hobby of diamond painting but with his poor eyesight he just couldn't get into it as much as you without straining himself, to which you understand completely.
You stare at your half finished piece, and before you knew it you were arranging your materials and carrying them to Wonwoo's gaming room. Wonwoo disliked turning the light off as he played, he said it wasn't healthy having the room dark and only his monitors providing some sort of brightness.
Despite having headphones on and being completely enamored in his game, he immediately turned to you as he heard the door shut and open. His eyes soften to see you standing by the door holding your little basket filled with your diamond painting materials and your eyes asking permission to stay. He smiled and gestured for you to approach him.
When he tried to get you into gaming he overdone himself and bought you a gaming chair which you barely used since you didn't game. You carefully laid out your materials and set down beside him, his attention fully on you. His game was paused as soon as he saw you enter his room.
"You wanna stay here?" He asked, his hand immediately resting on your thigh. "That's okay, right?" You asked. A smile immediately formed on Wonwoo's face and he couldn't help but littered multiple kisses all over your face. You could hear the faint yelling of Mingyu and Soonyoung from his headset and immediately turn red. "Are you on mute?" You asked, mortified. Wonwoo chuckles and nods, placing another kiss on your cheek. You let out a sigh of relief at his answer.
"You should start playing before they hunt you down here," you smile playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck, realizing that his hair was starting to grow longer. He nods but he doesn't turn back to his monitor without stealing another kiss. "I love you," He whispers against your lips to which you smile. "I love you too, Wonwoo-si," you smiled.
With that, Wonwoo turns back to his monitor and puts his headphone on in one ear, but leaves the one facing your side unblocked so he'll hear you better. "Where were you, Wonwoo?" Soonyoung asks as soon as Wonwoo turns his mic and unpaused his game. "Talking to my girlfriend," he answered without a pause to which you laugh. You hear the faint yells before Wonwoo turns back to you. "They're saying hi," He tells you. You smile before leaning forward to say hello back on his headphones' mic.
You and Wonwoo may not always have similar interests. He's into gaming, while you enjoyed doing your own things. But one thing is for certain, you enjoyed doing it together by each other's side.
✰ summary: you'd never sleep in an on-call room, but that doesn't mean you won't find other uses for it.
✰ pairing: attending neurosurgeon wonwoo x resident f!reader
✰ word count: 2.3k
✰ warnings: smut. MINORS DNI. fluff. a secret workplace relationship (wonwoo is reader's superior). references to overwork and self-sacrifice and demanding hours. they're disgustingly in love.
✰ note: thank you @sailorsoons and @100vern for supplying delicious banner photos. thank you everyone in the server for listening to me yap about this instead of writing it. i would like to thank shonda rhimes and derek and meredith for giving me hospital drama brainrot, and when life gives you tangerines for giving me enough Feelings to write again. this is unedited and un-beta'd because i'm lazy.
--
You try not to sleep in the on-call room, if you can avoid it.
It's not bad—state-of-the-art, as far as these things go. Hyunjoo University Medical Center has claimed the top spot among Korea's teaching hospitals five years running, with buckets of funding and endless charity galas to show for it, and that means private sleeping stalls. Plush mattresses. Closets that you get to keep for an entire year, with doors that lock. Fancy skincare products in the bathroom (which you still have to share with the dozen other surgical residents, to be clear, but it's an upgrade nonetheless).
Still, something about it depresses you. You still pay rent on the pathetic gosiwon two blocks away, but you spend every interminable, waking hour in this place as is. You know this place better than you know your childhood home, having traversed every inch of it in your orthopedic sneakers. You've touched every gurney, stopped inside every single med/surg room for pre-op rounds. Sat in every operating gallery to witness surgeries, with the reverence of a new believer in church. You swear that your skin has taken on a grayish tint in your years here from the lack of sun, a regrettable development that no amount of Vitamin C serum can reverse.
Anyway—every time you lie down to sleep at night, eyes dry and heels throbbing, you're not sure you'll make it to see the next day. And if you're going to die, you sure as hell won't be doing it in an on-call room. Mere feet away from the attendings' lounge, where you're certain your superiors congregate each morning and conspire to make your life as hellish as humanly possible.
So, you won’t sleep in here…. But that doesn’t mean you'll let the privacy locks and memory foam mattresses and clean sheets go to waste.
“You know, I have slept here before. It really isn’t that—“
You clap a hand over Wonwoo's—Dr. Jeon's—mouth, eyes going wide. "Shut up," you hiss, back pressed against the door.
He grins against your palm. Pulls your hand away. "Oh, relax. No one's rolling up here at seven in the morning. Everyone's on rounds.”
"Yeah, and I've got ten minutes before Dr. Oh comes looking for me. Better make it quick."
You don't need to tell Wonwoo twice. He leans down to capture your mouth in his. Hungry. Raw. The minty bite of hospital-issued mouthwash works its way onto your tongue. The remnants of acrid drip coffee from the communal break room makes its way onto his.
It's not fair, really. Both of you have been up all night, monitoring ICU patients and finishing up post-op notes over the graveyard shift, but he manages to come out of it looking unscathed. No dark circles under his eyes, skin as milky and poreless as ever. You reach up and run your fingers through his hair, hoping to mess it up a little—purely out of spite.
You tug, he moans, and then he's spinning you around, fingers digging into your mint scrubs, walking you backward toward one of the sleeping cubicles. Admittedly, they're a positive development. Even if the twin bed is laughably narrow, just large enough to accommodate his lanky frame—the two of you maneuver around each other, giggling, before you settle on his thighs encasing yours and your back sinking into the mattress.
"You know," you whisper, tugging on the hem of his teal scrub top, "I used to think it was so dirty."
Wonwoo obliges, pulling off his shirt in one fluid motion. Adjusts his glasses, bends his head down to fumble with the knot on his pants. "What? Me? Give me a break, you can only shower so many times on a seventy-two-hour—"
"No," you sigh, slipping out of your own top, and then your bra. "Doing this. Having sex in an on-call room. I used to respect the sanctity of medicine, you know. Used to treat this place like a place of worship. Now you've gone and defiled it. You've ruined my innocence."
He doesn't speak for a moment, just blinking at you. It takes you half a second to realize what he's looking at, and then you roll your eyes.
"What are you, twelve?"
"Sorry." He swallows, catching his thumbs on your nipples, and you press your lips together to trap a moan. "They're just—you just have, like, really great boobs."
"Wonwoo.”
He leans down, stripped completely bare. Pure Wonwoo. So much Wonwoo, you think you'll drown in it. "I mean it." He kisses you sweetly. Murmurs against your mouth, "you're beautiful," and you fight not to choke on your own breath.
Funny, you think, letting him breathe your air, letting his hands press cool patterns into your skin, everywhere, all over. You can't imagine what would possess him to call you beautiful, because he's heartbreakingly angelic. A sharp, cutting beauty. An intimidating kind, but beauty all the same.
You're glad you stuck around long enough to see the warmth in it. Glad that, among all the residents and attendings vying for his attention, haggling their way onto his service and into his Alzheimer's research lab, he fell for you—chose you, the resident who drew his name out of a cup on day one.
Felt inevitable, almost. Cosmically destined.
It doesn't take long for him to work his fingers into you. Doesn't take long because you've been aching for him all night, watching him check in on his patients with his characteristic patience, walk around the hospital with his white coat straining over his broad shoulders. In fact, you've been made acutely aware of the absence of him inside of you. (Occupational hazard, you suppose.) There's zero resistance to the intrusion, blinding sparks flying instantly from his touch.
Wonwoo groans, your slick coating his fingers. "So fucking wet," he sighs. He curls them up, presses right where he needs to, hits the spot that crushes the breath right out of your lungs. Except—
"No time," you decide, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. "Need you inside."
"Really."
"Yes, really. In case you've forgotten, I am a completely disposable cog in the machine." You reach down, work the curve of your palm over his semi. "Not to mention Dr. Oh has it out for me."
He pouts, just a little bit. He might as well have punched a hole through your ribs and macerated your heart—your pathetic, fluttering heart—the way it ruins you. "You shouldn't even be on Dr. Oh's service this week. You should be on mine."
You take his now-hard cock and align it with your opening. "Don't go neglecting the virtues of a well-rounded medical education, Dr. Jeon."
He starts to press into you. Slower than usual, because he hasn't prepared you the way he wants to.
God, he's big. Third-leg big. Bad porno big. Your breath catches, pain pulsing at the stretch, and he freezes.
"Too much?" he whispers, tracing his finger over your cheek.
This. This is what gets you, at the end of the day: To so many people in this building, you're doctor. You break your neck bending over a patient's open brain, cramp your hands clutching surgical instruments, scrub your skin until it cracks like arid earth. You flew through college, then medical school, like this: sacrificing pieces of your body to the altar of success, cutting away parts of yourself until there wasn't anything left to keep. There are an infinite number of people whose needs supersede yours. Without realizing it, you’ve become an expert at forgoing sleep. At skipping meals. At saying yes when you ache to say no.
Here, though, in Wonwoo's arms... you're a glass ornament. A rosebud. To him, you're a treasure to be handled with care. Second to no one.
You shake your head. "Keep going. Mmh—I'm good."
He kisses you, over and over, as he slips inside of you. His way of easing you, dissipating the residual tension locking your muscles in place. Slowly, slowly, and then all at once he fits himself to the hilt, broken breath fanning across your neck.
"You know," he murmurs, his tenor rippling through your skin, "I have a glioblastoma resection later today. You can scrub in, if you're free."
Whatever sick, deeply unwell surgery junkie is living inside of you and chewing holes in your brain takes over, because the next thing you know you're clenching. Hard. The resulting pressure draws the sweetest groan from Wonwoo. A sound that catapults you to a new dimension, one you want to hear forever.
"Fuck," he rasps. "Don't tell me the idea of a fatal brain tumor turns you on."
"Potentially fatal," you murmur, wiggling your hips, and you feel the way his limbs go taut—straining to hold himself back. "Not if you have anything to say about it."
"Oh, baby. I love it when you talk dirty to me."
Your cackle is cut short by a gasp as he pulls back, then thrusts back in—a movement so swift that it knocks the breath right out of you, sends shockwaves down to your toes. He pauses for the briefest second, examining your features, and then does it again. And again. And again.
"Oh, yes," you whine, when he bends his head to tongue at your nipple, sucking the pearl of it into his mouth. Your hands fly up of their own volition to twist into his hair, chest heaving, desperate for oxygen. "Oh, fuck, Wonwoo—"
Mouth occupied, Wonwoo responds with a pleased hum, his hand coming up to thumb at your neglected breast. The flames burst from you, spark up from your core and light up everywhere your body meets his, the drag of his cock so dizzying it drives you to delirium.
"Faster," you choke, locking your ankles at the base of his spine. "Faster, Wonwoo, please—"
“It’s going to be an awake craniotomy.” He presses the words into your sternum, into the hollow between your collarbones, into the spot behind your ear. God, his voice. It finds every bit of emptiness inside you, fills it with honey. “Patient’s going to be talking to us the whole time.”
You clench again, mostly to tease, and he emits a noise somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.
“Freak,” he mutters. Affectionately.
“Just eager to learn, Doctor. Oh, shit—“
“Close?” he asks. Doesn’t have to. He’s been inside you enough to know your tells—the dig of your nails into his shoulders, the way your breath hitches for longer like you’ve forgotten how to exhale—but you nod anyway.
“I’m—god, oh god, I’m—“
“I’ve got you, baby.” He drops his hand to where your bodies meet and finds your clit with ease. Starts thumbing at it, and the stars melt in your lower belly. All the heat and light in the world pull together inside of you, building and intensifying, until you have no choice but to burst with it.
So you do. You let go, legs shaking, whimpering his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever known, and it might as well be. You’re cold, always cold because the hospital runs its air conditioning on full blast, but in this moment you’re impossibly warm. Sweat beading at your hairline, sticking your body to your lover’s.
Wonwoo groans at the sensation of your cunt pulsing around him, at the flash of pain when your nails dig into his skin. He’s a masochist like that—has to be, has to relish in the pain. He wouldn’t have been able to endure med school and residency and boards and fellowship otherwise.
You pull him down against you, press breathless kisses to his jawline. “Gonna come for me?” you mumble, dragging your nails down his back.
You hope they’ll leave a mark. You hope that, when he’s changing his scrubs in the attendings’ lounge, people will see. That people will know he belongs to someone, even if the someone they’re imagining isn’t you.
Anyway. The added lick of heat on his shoulder blades pulls Wonwoo toward the edge. He shudders against you, can’t even find the words to speak. Lets out a pathetic, shattered moan when he comes, warmth spilling into and out of you, and it feels so euphoric—so perfect—that it almost makes you come again.
He stays inside of you for a moment, unmoving. The two of you exist in a bubble, the thinnest swirls of soap and water separating you from disease and sterilized tools and patients shouting for painkillers. The hard edge of his glasses digs into your temple, but you don’t mind. Not when he’s like this—all vulnerable, the competent, razor-sharp, highly sought-after Dr. Jeon nowhere to be found.
In this moment, he’s just Wonwoo. Your Wonwoo. The Wonwoo who kisses you every chance he gets. Who looks at you like you’re a miracle he never expected.
Your phone buzzes against the nightstand, and the bubble bursts. The hard edges of your case pummel the wood before you have a chance to grab it.
“Fuck. It’s Hyojin.” You sit straight up, shoving him aside, and scramble out of bed. Cum trickles down your thigh—you look up, panicking, but Wonwoo’s already holding out a tissue with one hand and your underwear with the other.
“Four PM,” he reminds you, digging around in the tangle of sheets for his own scrubs. “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t,” you promise. You turn toward the door, tugging the neck of your scrub top down over your head. “See you then!”
“Wait.”
You turn back, anxiety buzzing in your veins, then crack a smile. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, shirtless and forlorn. Hair sticking out in all directions, glasses askew, that pout poking out again. “Yes?” you ask innocently. Just to make him say it.
“You’re forgetting something.”
A goodbye kiss. One last bit of minty mouthwash, and then you’re flying out the door to your first patient, the heat of his mouth still lingering on yours.
synopsis: reader is lazy since she’s heavily pregnant and just wants wonwoo’s attention
pairing: gamer husband wonwoo x reader
warnings: none
word count: 0.4k
a/n: my request are open for stray kids, nct (any unit), riize, enhypen, seventeen, tws, boynextdoor, ateez, cortis, txt, nexz, tbz, p1harmony
your husband has been on the game since you woke up from your third nap of the day.
he’s wanted to spend time with you all day, but every time he wraps his arms around you for more than five minutes, you fall asleep.
by the third time it happened, you woke up to him at his gaming desk across the room.
“babeeee..” you whine out apologetically, as you promised after the second nap you wouldn’t fall asleep again, and he just hums in response as when he starts playing a game he’s locked in for hours.
“wonu i’m sorryyy,” you say lazily, and he just gives you a quick look. “it’s okay.”
you know he meant it, but now you want his attention, and you know you’re about to be deprived of it for at least another hour.
you scroll on social media bored, and eventually you just set your phone down and just stare at the wall with no thoughts behind those eyes until you go off to use the restroom.
as you’re using the restroom, you look over at the unused pregnancy test on the counter and your bored mind gets an idea.
you decide to take the test as a joke and, of course, it comes back positive, but you still gasp playfully just to get wonwoo’s attention.
“babe?!” you gasp going to the bedroom with the test and he’s immersed in the game as you stand behind him leaning on his gaming chair.
“i need your attention, wonu,” you say softly, tapping his shoulder as he’s about to queue up for another game.
“hm?” he hums, turning to you looking up at you with his big glasses on, and he looks the perfect amount of hot and nerdy.
“you have to give me attention now because look,” you say, showing him the positive test, and he lets out a dramatic sigh, wrapping his arms around you as this is really who he plans to grow old with. “i’m pregnant wonu..”
“i thought we knew that babe,” he says, letting a smile slip past his lips as you’re 35 weeks pregnant playing in his face after you guys just dropped a band on a baby shower. “you’re about to pop any second y/n.”
“i just wanted your attention,” you pout and his hands rest on your stomach. “you got it but promise you won’t take a fourth nap?”
you smile, “i promise,” you say, wrapping your pinky around his, and he turns his pc off before pulling you to lie with him.
you try to make him watch the series you've been into lately, but as he gets immersed and is asking questions, you stop responding.
he looks over and, low and behold, you're already slumped with your mouth open, drool threatening to fall past the corner of your mouth, and he just smiles softly, pulling you closer.
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