ABOUT: Anna | 981016 | she/her | Hungary | main: @starrywooyoungie | girls: @up-mp3 | girl group writings: @belllieveinyou
NOTE: just writing my little scenarios about my faves when the inspiration hits, please don't expect too much from me. I currently don't take any requests.
༄.° pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader | ༄.° wc: 7.7k
༄.° genre: nanny diary au | au pair!reader
༄.° warnings: definitely some angst + self-spiraling, bad/negligent rich people parenting, consumption of alcohol, mentions of vomit
༄.° a/n: for cam and em's carat bay collab! was so grateful to take part in another collab and experiment with my writing style a bit :)) please do check out all the other amazing authors in this collab, they are all so so so dear to me
Entry #1: On the Indigenous Habits of the Affluent Family on Summer Vacation
June 13th, 3:04 PM
In the wilds of Carat Bay, the modern matriarch is most commonly spotted with an oat milk matcha and AirPods, muttering something about KPIs. The modern patriarch is nowhere to be seen, having mumbled something about a “board meeting” and “golf with the boys.” Their offspring, small but feral, roam through chlorinated terrain. Their natural prey? Au pairs in department store swimsuits.
Junseo had eaten four frozen lemonades and was now in the middle of what experts in the field might call “a sugar-induced sprint toward cardiac disaster.”
“Junseo, no running by the pool!” you shout, too late. He slips, recovers, and keeps going like a greased piglet on roller skates.
Across the concrete savannah of Carat Bay’s family pool zone, Junhee is in her usual position: crouched at the border between chlorinated civilization and murky wilderness, pool noodle in hand. She is attempting to commit amphibicide via repeated poking of a highly displeased frog.
“Junhee, love, leave the frog alone—he lives here!”
“His name is Boba!” she screams back.
The frog does not look like a Boba. He looks like he’s reconsidering all of his life choices, which, frankly, makes two of you.
Your sandals squeak—a mistake you didn’t realize you’d made until about an hour into your first shift. They’re cute, sure. But tractionless. Supportless. Flat as your social life ever since you moved back in with your parents and became, for lack of better options, an anthropologist in exile.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Just a few months ago you were crossing the graduation stage in soft linen, clutching your master’s degree in anthropology like it meant something. You had been so certain academia would need someone like you—sharp-eyed, good at syntax, fluent in both fieldwork and feminist theory.
Turns out, the only people hiring anthropologists in this economy are tech companies doing ethics theater and pharmaceutical firms in need of plausible deniability.
You had been dying slowly on your parents’ couch for exactly three weeks when your friend Lexi sent the flyer:
Want to make $$$ babysitting rich kids all summer? Full access to country club, pool, catered lunches. No drowning allowed. :)
You had laughed. And then, somewhere between the fourth rejection email and your mother asking if you wanted to help organize her sock drawer, you’d sent in a resume. You even lied and said you liked children. Two days later, you were hired. The check had commas in it.
Now you’re standing in a wet Target swimsuit, sunburn blooming across your chest, wondering if the rash on your neck is from stress, sweat, or the “reef-safe, organic, mommy-formulated” sunscreen that smells like expired chamomile and four-day-old chlorine.
“Junseo,” you call again, “do not eat that bandaid!”
The bandaid goes into his mouth. The bandaid is chewed. You scream internally.
Your employer, Mrs. Cho, the mother of these twin terrors, has not moved from her perch in the family cabana for the last forty minutes. She’d tossed you a dismissive “just make sure they don’t drown” before retreating into her kaftan and a Zoom meeting. She’s been there ever since: AirPods in, matcha sweating on the teakwood side table, gesturing wildly as she mutters about influencers and packaging aesthetics.
You, meanwhile, are the last line of defense between civilization and frog-assisted chaos.
Later, after bribing the children into a nap with gummy worms and a story you mostly made up about a magical flamingo who goes to therapy, you collapse onto a sun-warmed lounger just outside the cabana. It's one of the only moments of quiet you’ve had since arriving. The kind of quiet that rings a little in your ears.
You close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Maybe consider what a plane ticket to literally anywhere else might cost.
That’s when you feel it—a shift in the light. A shadow cast across your body.
You blink up.
There’s a boy—no, not quite. A man. Mid-twenties, maybe. Dark hair falling slightly into his eyes, expression unreadable. His nametag says Wonwoo. He’s wearing the Carat Bay staff polo, a towel slung casually over his shoulder. His left hand holds a chilled bottle of water, condensation trailing lazy rivulets down his fingers.
He offers it wordlessly.
You take it, startled. “Thank you,” you say, your voice hoarse from yelling and sun.
He doesn’t speak. Just gives you a single, small nod, and walks away.
You watch his back retreat into the shimmer of pool heat, the bottle already cold against your lips.
You don’t know it yet, but this is the last peaceful moment you’ll have for a while.
Entry #2: On Power Hierarchies and Poolside Social Climbing
June 20th, 11:35 AM
In most pack dynamics, the alpha asserts dominance through elaborate displays of confidence. At Carat Bay, this involves hosting themed pool parties and knowing the regional manager’s golf handicap. Among the matriarchs, alliances shift over whose offspring made swim team and who dared to bring store-bought cupcakes to the birthday cabana. It is important to master the subtle art of pretending one is not competing.
You lose your hearing somewhere around the fifth time Junhee screams, “I DON’T WANNA BE A ZEBRA.”
Junseo, face flushed with fury and injustice, echoes her like a demonic chorus: “WE’RE NOT ZEBRAS! I WANNA BE A T-REX!”
“Fine,” you hiss, crouched on the cabana floor with one knee in a puddle of apple juice, “be a godda–dang dinosaur in a zebra onesie, just get in the outfit.”
Today is not your day.
Today is Savannah Safari Birthday™, an event as horrifying as it is aggressively coordinated. The themed party, hosted by one of the more alpha Carat Bay mothers (you learn her name is Seoyeon, but she goes by Stacie, spelled with an ‘ie’ like a threat), has transformed her family cabana into an influencer’s fever dream. Giant cardboard giraffes. Balloon arches in beige and gold. Matching straw hats for all children. And a disturbingly lifelike stuffed zebra standing near the dessert table like it's waiting for a sacrifice.
You wrangle the twins into their assigned costumes—faux-animal-print rompers with little ears on the hoods—while they shriek like banshees at a frequency NASA might want to study.
By the time you emerge into the main cabana area, sweating and frayed, the pool moms are already circling each other like predators in designer plumage.
“Did you hear?” one says, adjusting her visor. “Eunkyung got waitlisted for pre-competitive swim. Waitlisted. And they just redid their pool.”
A blonde with glistening shoulders gasps theatrically. “Waitlisted? Oh no. Maybe she can take up something less... saturated. Pickleball, maybe.”
There’s laughter, brittle as pressed glass.
You hover near the fruit skewers, pretending to supervise the twins as they pelt each other with animal crackers. That’s when you hear it: the first volley fired in your direction.
“Aw, is your niece helping you today?” one of the moms trills, gesturing at you without looking. Her sunglasses are enormous and opaque.
“She’s adorable,” another adds, tone sweet and scalding. “That suit is so… real. You just don’t see people being brave about texture anymore.”
You blink, mouth parting slightly. You’re not sure whether to laugh or start quoting Margaret Mead in self-defense.
“Actually,” you say slowly, “I’m their au pair.”
They blink back, uncomprehending. One finally nods. “Oh! Like an assistant.”
Sure. Like that.
You eventually find yourself corralled in a shady corner with the other au pairs and nannies—two from Portugal, one from Toronto, and one with an indeterminate accent who looks like she’s seen war. Together, you trade horror stories like wartime nurses. One saw a child try to feed a wedding ring to a koi fish. Another was asked to prepare an all-raw vegan lunch for a toddler who eats crayons. You are both horrified and comforted. Trauma loves company.
It ends, as all things do, in carnage. A child screams because someone else got to sit on the fake zebra. Another sobs over the injustice of the animal-shaped cupcakes melting in the heat. You grab the twins, now sticky with fruit and full on far too much cake for their afternoon nap, and make a beeline for the cabana exit just as one of the moms begins berating a nanny for not predicting her daughter’s alleged strawberry allergy.
You’re almost free.
Almost.
And then you crash directly into someone solid.
You go down like a bowling pin.
“Oh my god!” Junseo howls. “YOU FELL!”
“Like, BOOM!” Junhee adds, collapsing into giggles.
You are on the hot concrete, stunned, clutching your elbow and your remaining dignity.
And there he is again.
Wonwoo.
He’s traded his polo for a linen button-up, slightly wrinkled and unfairly flattering. He looks down at you, impassive.
“Hey,” he says.
You blink up at him. “Hi.”
He offers a hand. You take it, and he pulls you up with barely any effort. His hand is warm. Callused. There’s a quiet strength to him, like a character in a Ghibli film who lives alone in the woods and speaks only in cryptic haikus.
Before you can say anything else, one of the moms descends like a hawk. Or a hyena that’s recently had fillers.
“Oh, Wonwoo,” she purrs, practically draping herself across his side. Her teeth gleam. “I didn’t know you were back from Singapore. Is your father joining us for the benefit this year?”
He gently disentangles himself.
“He’s expecting me for lunch,” he replies, tone polite and final.
Her lips purse. You watch her recalibrate in real time, already turning toward another potential social rung.
Wonwoo glances back at you. His expression doesn’t change, but there’s something faint in his eyes. Amusement, maybe. Or pity. Or just wind.
Then he’s gone.
Later, when the twins are face-first in naps (which took a significant amount of wrangling to achieve) and your phone finally has a signal, you search his name.
Jeon Wonwoo.
Son of the owner. Executive board. Dartmouth-educated. There’s a press photo of him at a ribbon-cutting ceremony for a sustainability initiative.
Of course.
You drop the phone onto the lounge chair beside you and cover your face with a towel.
Maybe he’s not so different from the moms after all.
Or maybe worse—maybe he’s just better at pretending he isn’t.
Entry #3: On The Nanny Condition (Also Known As: “Doormat Syndrome”)
June 30th, 12:47 PM
Subservience in child-rearing roles is often mistaken for passivity. However, this is more accurately understood as the practiced stillness of someone who has weathered too many juice spills and tantrums. It is not a weakness, but a form of strategic surrender – resignation honed into an art.
It starts the way all days start now: with screaming.
You don’t even flinch anymore. Junseo has weaponized volume as a strategy. Junhee has started using phrases like “I’m telling Mommy!” even though Mommy, at this point, might as well be a cryptid. You text Mrs. Cho about the lunch situation and get no response. You text again. Then once more, with slightly more passive-aggression. Still nothing.
Mr. Cho is presumably in a meeting, on a plane, or golfing through time. His only presence this week has been the sound of an engine disappearing down the driveway at six-fifteen each morning. You’re beginning to suspect he has never actually seen the twins awake.
By 11:30, it’s full meltdown hour. Junhee has decided to sob violently about the wrong flavor of juice. Junseo is lying on the pool deck and pretending to die of hunger. You make the tragic mistake of attempting to fix this by visiting the snack bar—only to find it’s out of chicken nuggets.
Of course it is.
The cabana attendant (your supposed lifeline in this glittering suburban dystopia) is nowhere to be found. Probably hiding behind a towel cart and Googling how to fake appendicitis.
A mom walks by, sipping iced espresso in a wine glass. She clocks the situation—the spilled juice, your panicked rustling through bags, the tantrum echoing off the water—and gives you the kind of look normally reserved for videos of shelter dogs.
Then, like a scene change in a commercial for laundry detergent, he appears.
Wonwoo. The cabana attendant from three down, and apparently some sort of summer camp MacGyver.
Without a word, he crouches beside your mess of a pool chair, reaches into his tote, and withdraws two juice boxes like they’ve been summoned by divine intervention.
“Trade secret,” he says, handing them over. “I keep a stash for emergencies.”
The twins freeze mid-wail. Their heads swivel toward the juice. Junhee actually snatches it like a raccoon who’s just spotted an unattended churro.
You mouth thank you as chaos briefly, miraculously, subsides. Wonwoo gives a small shrug, like it's no big deal that he's just singlehandedly de-escalated a Code Red tantrum. Then he starts rummaging through his bag again.
“Here,” he says, offering you a slightly squished protein bar. “You look like you might pass out before 2. Not a great look in front of the junior elite.”
You stare at the bar, then at him. “Are you always this prepared?”
He squints at the twins, now peacefully arguing over whether dinosaurs could swim. “Experience.”
He rises, but pauses. “Oh, and: sing to them,” he adds, like it’s obvious. “The nap goes easier if you sing. Something simple. Doesn’t matter what.”
You blink. “You know a lot about naps.”
He smirks. Whisper-soft, barely there. “Only the essential ones.”
And then he’s walking away. You’re about to call after him, maybe say something actually coherent, when you spot it. Just barely poking out of his overstuffed bag, next to sunscreen and a spare shirt:
A Secret History, cover creased, dog-eared, loved.
The twins fall asleep in your lap thirty minutes later, sticky fingers curled around juice boxes, heads tilted together like cherubs.
You hum a lullaby under your breath. It works.
Maybe this doormat thing isn’t about surrender, you think, watching the sun cut soft lines through their hair. Maybe it’s about endurance. Outlasting the storm. Knowing when to bend, and when to hum.
And maybe—just maybe—you’re not the only one pretending.
Entry #4: A Brief Field Guide to Cabana Boys (Genus: Mysteriousus Hotus)
July 12th, 7:30 PM
Often underestimated, the Cabana Boy is a curious species: quiet, observant, and frequently found next to industrial-sized coolers. Contrary to popular belief, he is not just decorative. He may, in fact, be reading Donna Tartt during fireworks displays and composing short fiction between towel runs.
You're not sure when you started paying attention. Not in the obvious way—wrangling two five-year-olds who are constantly on the verge of a sugar-induced existential crisis leaves little room for distractions. But somewhere between juice box negotiations and sunscreen reapplications, you noticed the pattern.
Wonwoo clocks in for his 1:00 PM shift at 12:53 on the dot, every day. Rain or shine.
He always brings a slightly crumbly granola bar at exactly 12:45 and hands it over without ceremony. He’s also taken to giving unsolicited (but disturbingly effective) child-wrangling tips.
“If you let them watch an episode of Clifford in the shade, they mellow out.”
“Junhee will eat steamed broccoli if Junseo is watching.”
“They nap better if you hum the Indiana Jones theme.”
When you ask how he knows this, he just shrugs.
“I’ve watched them grow up here.”
He folds towels into perfect thirds—perfect enough to undo the entire previous shift’s work, muttering about symmetry.
And he always—always—has a book in his bag. You’ve clocked A Secret History, Beloved, Middlesex, and now—somehow—Antigone. You, being a civilized person, use sticky notes. He dog-ears. He highlights. You try not to hold it against him.
Then one night, the miracle. A fireworks show lures both Mr. and Mrs. Cho into spending quality time with their children—together—and for the first time in thirty-one days, you are given a few hours off.
You wander the resort grounds in what you tell yourself is idle exploration. You're not looking for him, not exactly. You're just…curious.
You find him perched in the shade outside the Cabana Attendants' Shack, book open, fingers curled at the spine. The sunset drapes him in gold.
“Greek tragedy?” you ask, nodding at the cover.
He startles slightly. Then sees it’s you and offers that small, lopsided smile that always feels like a secret.
“Loyalty to family and all that.” He snaps the book shut. “Why, do you have a favorite?”
The conversation unfolds in sideways glances and thoughtful pauses. He’s more well-read than you expected—not that you ever assumed he was dumb, but you didn’t quite picture him as the kind of guy who casually references Antigone while sipping Gatorade.
You want to bring up the fact that he’s the rumored heir to the waterpark conglomerate whose name is literally embroidered on your staff polo, but you don’t. He doesn’t bring it up, either.
Instead, you trail him as he clocks back in and begins his closing duties. You talk as he refolds towels, delivers last-call lemonades, and waves kids off the splash pad.
He’s soft-spoken but sharp, a bit of a walking contradiction. He debates philosophy with the same tone he uses to explain popsicle storage procedures.
He quotes The Odyssey unprompted. You’re unsure if you’re gagging or swooning. Possibly both. He laughs. The good kind—the kind that makes you want to say something clever, just to earn it again.
And then:
A string of texts from Mrs. Cho.
Where are you?
Can you be back in ten?
Junseo is trying to drink the pool water again.
Three hours gone in a blink.
You sigh, brushing off your shorts. “Duty calls.”
He doesn’t protest. Just reaches into his bag and hands you a worn paperback with a faded spine.
“You’d like this,” he says. “Don’t worry. I only highlighted a little.”
As you jog back to the family villa, the book clutched under your arm, you catch yourself smiling. You don’t know what exactly just happened—but you know you’re already looking forward to tomorrow.
The Cabana Boy: mysterious, mythological, mildly infuriating.
You’re definitely going to need another field guide.
Entry #5: On Emotional Labor (And How to Pretend You’re Fine)
July 18th, 3:56 PM
Among caretakers, the phrase “I’m fine” functions less as a truth and more as a survival mechanism – an autopilot response honed through repetition, like muscle memory or disassociation. It’s not an admission of wellness so much as a polite way of saying: I have exactly six fruit snacks and half a juice box keeping me together right now, please do not ask follow-up questions.
Today is the worst day on record. Not just this summer—ever.
Junhee is feverish and glassy-eyed. Junseo hasn’t stopped crying since 9:07 AM. The phrase “I want mommy” has been used with increasing volume and ferocity for six straight hours.
And still, Mrs. Cho floats in after breakfast, clacking away in her designer heels like you’re just another inconvenience in a long string of logistics. She deposits them into your arms with the same care one might give a bag of dry cleaning. She clacks off in Valentino heels without a glance back. She says “they’ve been so moody lately,” as if their tear-streaked faces and refusal to be peeled off your torso aren’t a screaming counterargument.
Even Wonwoo, usually the child-whisperer, strikes out. He tries Clifford. He tries juice box diplomacy. He even pulls out the secret popsicle stash. Nothing works.
The grand finale: Junhee vomits bright blue Slushie all over your shirt just as Mrs. Cho reappears.
She gasps, horrified—not at her child, no. At you. “This is completely inappropriate. What did you even feed him?”
You’re too shocked to speak.
Wonwoo watches from across the cabana, eyes wide, towel frozen mid-fold. And then—just like that—you snap.
Your eyes are already stinging, breath hitching. You mutter something about needing a minute, and walk fast. Not away from the cabana—out.
You don’t know where you're going, just that it needs to be anywhere else. You barrel through pool chairs, past shrieking toddlers, past lifeguards gossiping about hot guests, and you barely notice the quiet footsteps trailing behind you.
A hand catches your upper arm. Not rough, just... certain.
Wonwoo pulls you into the cool, echoey silence of the staff locker room and sits you down like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You don’t resist.
You sit, shoulders trembling. He turns to his locker, rifling through it. A few seconds later, he tosses a shirt into your lap.
“Here. It’s clean. Smells weird, though. You might smell like sunscreen and... me.”
You pick it up with shaking hands. Chlorine, citrus deodorant, rain. Wonwoo. It hits like a trigger.
And then—
You lose it.
Not the gentle, single-tear kind of cinematic breakdown. No. This is a crash out. Full-body. Unfiltered.
You're pacing now, the shirt clutched in your hand like a lifeline, voice cracking with every word.
“I hate this family.”
“I swear to God, if that woman says one more thing about how hard parenting is—while dumping her kids on me like they’re furniture—I’m gonna lose my actual goddamn mind.” “I’m twenty-three! I should be backpacking in Spain or studying abroad or—I don’t know—eating a yogurt in peace without someone screaming about their sock being too tight.”
You kick a locker.
“And I’m trying so hard. I’m doing everything right. I’ve read so many blogs, Wonwoo.”
You turn toward him, eyes red-rimmed and wild.
“And you know what I get? Vomited on. In public.”
He hasn’t moved. Just sits on the bench, legs spread, arms on his knees, staring up at you like he’s watching a fire he’s not sure how to put out. Like he knows he’ll burn if he gets too close—but also that maybe it’s worth it.
“Are you… done?” he asks, finally. Gently.
You stop. Blink. And then let out a small, wet laugh that sounds more like a sob. You sit down hard next to him, the adrenaline draining from your limbs all at once.
“I think so.”
He leans back slightly. Not touching you, but close enough that you can feel the calm radiating off him.
“Better?”
You don’t answer immediately. You don’t know. But you nod anyway. And he accepts it, like that’s enough.
You sit there, the two of you, in chlorine-scented silence. His shirt still bunched in your lap. Your breathing slows. You count your heartbeats.
And for the first time all summer, someone lets you be tired. Not “still smiling” tired. Not “push through it” tired. Just... human.
You think, maybe, that matters more than anything.
Entry #6: On the Sociocultural Function of Shared Snacks (And Other Low-Stakes Intimacies)
July 25th, 6:23 PM
Anthropological theory suggests that the exchange of Goldfish and Capri Suns constitutes a primitive yet potent form of courtship. Especially when accompanied by verbal rituals such as, “You look like you need a break,” and, “Do you want the last one?” While not as elaborate as other mating rituals, these offerings appear to hold significant emotional currency. Further study is required, but initial findings suggest: this may be how modern love begins.
There’s a rhythm now. He always saves the last piña colada juice box for you. You always act like you don’t care and then accept it anyway, muttering something about “fake cocktails for fake lifeguards.” He always laughs. You always drink it.
You make fun of the way he organizes the towel bins—by saturation level, apparently. “This one’s damp-damp, and that one’s wet-wet? You okay, Marie Kondo?”
Wonwoo shrugs like he’s heard worse, like maybe he’s even proud of it. “It brings me peace.”
It’s easy with him. He always finds his way to your cabana when things are quiet. No one sends him. He just appears. He drops into the lounge chair beside you like he belongs there, legs stretched out, sunglasses slipping down his nose. Sometimes he brings snacks—peanut butter pretzels, Goldfish, gummy worms he claims are “for the kids.” You both know better.
You talk books. Somehow he’s never read Magic Treehouse, which you find personally offensive. “It’s basically required reading for emotionally unstable gifted kids.”
He grins. “Sounds like I dodged a bullet.”
“You’d love it,” you tell him, tossing a pretzel at his face. “You’re such a Virgo.”
“I’m not a Virgo.”
“Spiritually, though.”
He makes you laugh at least once a day. Not a polite laugh. An ugly, tired, full-body snort—the kind that feels like exhaling something heavy.
One afternoon, your fingers brush when he hands you a juice box. The contact is brief, but it lingers. Just enough to make you glance up, and he’s already looking back. Not with some dramatic, swoon-worthy gaze—just steady. Familiar. Like he knows you. Like he sees you.
And then, inevitably, the twins start screaming about a grasshopper. One of them insists it’s going to bite their nose off. The moment cracks clean in half. Wonwoo groans, gets up, and trudges off to play bug bouncer. You watch him go, vaguely amused. A little disappointed.
Later, when the cabana is blissfully quiet again, you ask him something you’ve been holding onto for a while.
“Why do you work here when you don’t need to?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Just stares at the pool, unreadable. For a second, you think he’s going to deflect with a joke—but instead, he says, quietly, “It’s easier to know people when they’re not pretending.”
He says it like it’s obvious. Like it’s been sitting in the air this whole time, waiting for you to notice.
You don’t quite know what to do with that. But you don’t push.
Instead, you hand him the last peanut butter pretzel without a word.
He takes it.
And for now, that feels like enough.
Entry #7: On Burnout, Bus Rides, and the Quiet in Between
July 31st, 8:39 PM
The much-awaited night off is often viewed as an unproductive lull in the performance of domestic labor. But for the emotionally fried caretaker figure, it is the only sanctioned absence where no one cries, no one spills, and no one demands apple slices cut the “right” way. It is the lone moment in which the help is not expected to perform servitude with a smile. In anthropological terms: a brief return to personhood.
You end up at a bus stop just outside the waterpark. The sun’s long gone, and so are your responsibilities, at least for the next few hours. You’re not even sure where you’re headed. You just wanted to leave. To move. To breathe. You might be a little tipsy—courtesy of the fully stocked cabana bar—but that’s between you and whatever god watches over tired girls with aching feet and full hearts.
Wonwoo finds you under the weak, flickering light of the stop like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“What are you doing here?”
“I have the night off,” you say, nudging a pebble with the toe of your sandal. “Didn’t know where to go. I’m not from here.”
He looks at you for a moment, then smiles. “You’ve got the whole night off?”
You nod just as the bus pulls up. He doesn’t hesitate, just holds out his arm and asks, “Wanna do something fun?”
You giggle, loop your arm through his, and climb aboard.
The bus ride is a quiet kind of lovely. The kind that lets your bones settle after a day of noise and chlorine and children threatening to stage a coup over who gets the blue floatie. You’re too tired to flirt, and he doesn’t seem to mind. He offers his shoulder, opens a book, and lets you lean.
“I didn’t know you took the bus,” you mumble, sleep thick in your voice.
He chuckles. “Why? Thought I had a Porsche?”
You smile into the fabric of his shirt. “What kind of chaebol son doesn’t have a sports car?”
“I do,” he says, tapping his fingers as he leans in close enough for you to get a whiff of his cologne. It’s earthy. Warm. “It’s just hard to park.”
Eventually, the bus rolls into a small downtown area lit with fairy lights, where families drift between ice cream shops and late-night cafés. Wonwoo takes your hand and tugs you down a side street, stopping in front of what looks like an abandoned bookstore. The sign is faded. The windows are dark.
You squint. “On my one night off this summer, you brought me to a murder scene?”
He scoffs, already pulling keys from his pocket. “I clerked here in high school. The owner never asked for them back.”
Inside, the air smells like dust and old stories. He flips on a few lamps and the space flickers to life—messy and charming in a way that feels sacred.
What follows is, undeniably, a reading date. But you both pretend it’s not. It can’t be. Not when summer is almost over. Not when you’ve seen what happens to girls who let themselves want too much.
Still, you talk. You read. He shows you where he used to stash beanbags as a teenager and the corner of a shelf where he carved his name when he was seventeen. He pulls down a hollowed-out book that still contains an unopened bag of gummy bears. When he throws one toward you, you catch it in your mouth without breaking eye contact, and he laughs so hard he nearly drops the whole bag.
At some point, you sigh about how much you miss Cherry Garcia ice cream. He disappears, and a few minutes later, returns with a milkshake.
“It’s not ice cream,” he says, offering it to you, “but it is Cherry Garcia.”
You take one sip and groan. “You’re dangerous.”
“We can split it,” he offers, clearly pleased with himself.
You settle back into the beanbags with the milkshake between you. His shoulder brushes yours. Your pinkies touch. You’re pretty sure this is what love feels like—soft and slow and unbearably sweet.
You’re just about to lean in when your phone rings.
Mrs. Cho.
You answer, and before you can even say hello, her voice cuts through, sharp and desperate. “I need you back. They won’t sleep until you sing to them. Come back now.”
The twins are screaming in the background.
You shoot up, already apologizing, already stuffing your phone in your pocket and looking for your bag.
Wonwoo follows you to the door. Just as you reach for the handle, his hand wraps gently around your wrist.
“You’re the only person from the waterpark I’ve shown this store to,” he says, voice low, almost unsure, and it takes all the willpower in the world not to push him up against the stacks and kiss him stupid. “We should– we should do this again. If you want.”
You should go. You have to go. But instead, you rise on your tiptoes and press a feather-light kiss to his cheek.
“I would love that,” you whisper.
Then you're gone, milkshake in hand, racing back to the chaos. But the softness of that night stays with you.
Entry #8: On the Perfect Family (And Other Bedtime Stories)
August 12th, 1:56 PM
Anthropologists agree that the family unit, built on generations of blood and loyalty, is sacred. This theory begins to unravel around 1:07 PM, when the matriarch of the Cho family – Balenciaga-clad and Bluetooth’d – screams at her offspring for dripping popsicle juice on her Hermès towel. The offspring seek emotional refuge in the arms of the hired help. This only infuriates the matriarch further. Field notes suggest that the sacred family unit may, in fact, be a PR stunt.
The cabana smells like sun-warmed linen and something floral—maybe Mrs. Cho’s perfume. You sit cross-legged on the floor, the twins clambering onto your lap, sticky popsicle juice glistening on their chins. Junseo hiccups, eyes wide, while Junhee presses her damp cheek against your arm, seeking shelter.
Then it happens.
A sharp, slicing voice cuts through the quiet: “Why is there juice dripping on my Hermès towel?” Mrs. Cho storms in, Balenciaga heels clicking like thunder on pavement. The Bluetooth earpiece flashes a faint blue as she glares at you, voice rising like a storm.
The twins flinch. Junhee blinks up at her mother like she’s seeing a stranger. Junseo presses closer to you, face buried in your shirt. You feel the warmth of their small bodies, the tremble in their chests. You are not their mother. You know that. But in moments like this, someone has to be.
Mrs. Cho snaps, “Do not coddle them. This is why they don’t respect me.”
You stand slowly, steadying the children behind you.
“I’m just trying to calm them down,” you say, carefully.
“Oh, please.” Her tone sharpens. “You don’t think I see what you’re doing? What everyone sees? The other mothers laugh behind your back — the little nanny girl and the owner’s son playing house.”
Your breath catches.
“I’m not—”
“I’m not finished.” She steps closer. “You are not their mother. Stop pretending to be. Stop making them believe you are.”
You blink once, twice. And then you break.
“No,” you snap. “You stop. You stop making them believe I’m their mother. You leave them with me for ten hours a day, five days a week. You miss their birthdays. You forget their allergies. You don't even know Junhee likes frogs or that Junseo has nightmares when it rains. You don’t see them. But I do.”
She stiffens. You press the twins behind you gently.
“For fuck’s sake, Mrs. Cho,” you whisper, too tired to yell anymore. “Do you really think this is how good mothers act?”
The silence that follows is jagged. Sharp.
You don't wait for her to respond. You turn. You walk — briskly, almost blindly — past the frozen faces in the walkway, past Wonwoo standing by the corner, unreadable.
You don’t stop until you’re outside.
Night comes like a soft blanket. You’re at the twins’ bedside again, tracing their damp hair, humming lullabies until their breathing evens out. Mrs. Cho sits stiffly across the room, staring at her phone. Her husband lounges on the couch, like nothing happened. As if nothing ever happens.
You're walking beside the lazy river, hands stuffed into the pockets of your hoodie, when you hear the familiar tread of footsteps behind you.
Wonwoo.
You don’t look at him.
“I heard everything,” he says.
You don’t say anything. You keep walking.
“She was way out of line.”
You stop. “You don’t need to defend me.”
“I’m not,” he says quietly. “I’m angry.”
You turn to him. “Why? Why do you even care?”
He falters. “Because I—”
You laugh bitterly. “You what, Wonwoo? You care about me? You want to play the hero now? Where were you earlier? When she humiliated me in front of everyone? You just stood there.”
“I didn’t know what to do—”
“You never know what to do,” you snap, voice cracking. “You always wait until I’m falling apart and then you show up when it’s safe again. When I’ve already picked up my pieces.”
His jaw clenches.
“I’m sorry,” he says, but it sounds like sandpaper. “I should’ve said something. I wanted to.”
“And now what? You want me to pat you on the back because you chased me down after sunset?” Your voice breaks. “This isn’t a fucking romance movie, Wonwoo. You don’t get points for showing up late.”
He stares at you — really stares — and then he says, low and quiet, “I didn’t chase you down for points.”
You shake your head and look away.
“I came because I couldn't let you walk away thinking I didn’t care.” He takes a step closer. “You’re not just someone I flirt with by the pool. You’re not just the girl who helps with the twins. You’re...”
His voice falters.
“You’re the only person who makes this place feel real.”
You feel the ache of it — like something soft tearing.
“I didn’t ask for this,” you whisper.
“Neither did I,” he says. “But I’m here.”
And then he kisses you.
It starts hesitant — a question, a breath — but when you don't pull away, he deepens it, slow and hungry. One hand slides to your jaw, the other finds your waist. You kiss him back like you’ve been holding your breath for two whole months. Because you have.
He pulls back just enough to whisper, “Come with me.”
You nod, breathless.
You stumble through the grass, past the empty lounge chairs, half-laughing, half-shaking. He kisses you again by the maintenance shed. Again near the outdoor shower. You lose track of where you’re going. You only know his hands, his mouth, the way he looks at you like you’re something he’s been dying to touch.
By the time you reach the locker room, he’s pushing you gently against the door, lips trailing fire down your neck.
“Fucking finally,” he groans, like it’s been killing him not to say it. His voice in your ear makes your knees buckle.
You grip his shirt, feel the muscles of his back flex under your fingers. He smells like chlorine and sunscreen and gummy bears and sweat and you want, want, want.
He kisses you again, deeper this time — all tongue and teeth and desperation. The kind of kiss that says I missed you, I wanted you, I want you still.
And then, suddenly — mid-kiss, mid-moment — the world crashes back in.
He’s the son of the owner. He drives a Porsche that probably never sees the road and reads Bukowski like it’s gospel.
You? You read bedtime stories and wipe juice off a Hermès towel. You’re an au pair with a paper degree and an expiring visa. Your chest tightens with a thousand what-ifs.
The summer is bleeding out.
And you're kissing a boy who might not be yours when it ends.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Entry #9: On the Danger of Wanting More
August 19th, 4:21 PM
In most societal structures, the help is expected to exist quietly on the periphery – present but visible, useful but never central. And falling for someone above one’s pay grade? Historically ill-advised, frequently humiliating, and almost always doomed. But anthropologists agree that humans are predictable irrational – no amount of emotional detachment can fully protect you from a boy that kisses you stupid and casually quotes Euripedes.
You pulled away after the kiss, gasping. Dizzy. Brain short-circuiting.
The class divide. The logistics. The impossible futures.
He’s the son of the owner. He could never work another day and still live comfortably into infinity. You’re scraping together tips and spare change, trying to stretch your contract into a real life. He’s got gilded options. You’ve got a ticking clock.
So you avoid him.
When you see him walking toward the cabana for his daily granola bar pilgrimage, you redirect the twins toward the kiddie pool. When he shows up with your favorite pina colada — extra pineapple, no cherry — you pretend it’s nap time. You dodge, deflect, disappear. You rehearse polite excuses until they become muscle memory.
It takes a week for him to finally corner you.
You’re headed to the bathroom, sunglasses on, hoodie up despite the August heat. He intercepts you by the towel stand.
“What are you doing?” he asks, voice low, not angry but confused.
You blink. “Nothing. Peeing?”
“You’re avoiding me.”
“No…”
“You are,” he says, stepping closer. “Don’t lie. You won’t even look at me.”
You focus intently on a damp footprint on the pavement. “I’ve just been… busy.”
“What did I do wrong?”
He says your name like it matters. Like he means it. A question and a plea and a prayer all at once.
“I thought this was going somewhere,” he says. “Where did I go wrong?”
You open your mouth. Close it. Swallow. Then:
“You didn’t.”
His shoulders drop in relief. He starts to move closer, arms lifting — but you stop him with a hand on his chest.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you repeat. “I did.”
Now he looks confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Wonwoo,” you sigh. “One day, you’re going to take over. You’re going to be CEO of a global resort empire. And me? I’m going to be here. Covered in five-year-olds’ snot and banana crumbs, probably chasing a preschooler into a fountain.”
“So?” he scoffs. “I don’t want this.” He gestures broadly at the lazy river, the snack bar, the sunburned luxury. “I’m not staying. I got into an MFA program. I’m leaving at the end of the month.”
That throws you. “Wait—what? Really?”
He nods. “I want to write. Always have.”
You blink. “Okay… and?”
He reaches out and takes your hand, threading your fingers together like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“You don’t have it all figured out,” he says softly. “That’s okay. Neither do I. But what are you gaining from babysitting your own life?”
You want to laugh. Or cry. Or kiss him again. Maybe all three.
But you don’t answer. Not yet.
That night, you get a text.
[Attachment: IMG_0142.jpeg]
A photo of an email. Congratulations! You’ve been accepted to the Creative Writing MFA program at—
[Attachment: PDF Lease Agreement]
Two bedrooms. Hardwood floors. Half a mile from the university. Your hometown.
Then a message from him:
You could write too, you know.
I’d read every word.
Entry #10: On Exit Strategies (And the Beginnings We Don’t See Coming)
August 23rd, 7:54 AM
In the study of human nature, we often assume that endings are marked, observable events – clean breaks punctuated by ritual. But fieldwork reveals a more complex truth: endings, like goodbyes, are rarely so precise. Sometimes the dissolve quietly, like mist off the surface of a morning pool. Sometimes they masquerade as beginnings. And sometimes, they don’t happen at all – not really.
It’s your last day at Carat Bay.
The twins start kindergarten on Monday. Their regular au pair — a disheveled girl who looks like she once studied French literature and now only speaks in juice box negotiations — has returned.
You say goodbye to the kids, crouched low to meet their eyes. Junhee hugs you, sticky-fingered and sad. Junseo asks, “Who’ll sing to us now?” in a voice so small it nearly breaks you.
You press teary kisses to their damp little heads. Promise they’ll be okay. They’re good kids. You tell yourself that means something.
You say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Cho.
Mrs. Cho barely glances up from her phone. She waves vaguely. Her acrylics glint in the sun.
Mr. Cho squints at you from over his tablet. “We had a new nanny this summer?”
You roll your eyes as you walk away, his confusion trailing behind you like bad perfume.
You drag your suitcase down the cobbled path toward the villa’s front gate, sunscreen and chlorine still clinging to your skin. The early morning air smells like pool chemicals and hotel pastries.
And then you see it — the Porsche, parked crooked in the drive like it doesn’t know it’s expensive.
Wonwoo is leaned against the side, arms crossed, sunglasses perched low on his nose like he’s auditioning for a commercial titled Regret Nothing.
He straightens when he sees you, already moving to grab your suitcase.
“So,” he says, like it’s casual. Like it’s not everything. “You comin’ with me?”
You pretend to think. Just for show. Just for the story.
Then you’re moving — fast, reckless — throwing your arms around him like you never learned how to say goodbye. His mouth finds yours in a kiss that feels like a collision — breathless, greedy, impossible. He laughs against your lips as you stumble back against the car, the heat of the hood warming your spine.
“You ever driven a Porsche?” he asks, his grin crooked, summer-sick and daring.
You break the kiss just long enough to smile. “Not yet.”
He presses the keys into your hand like a promise. Like a dare. Like the start of something you didn’t plan for — and maybe that’s the point.
You take the keys. Open the door.
And you drive — not toward an ending.
But into something new.
Epilogue: On Retrospective Analysis and the Unscientific Nature of Love
Not Dated (yet)
Anthropologists caution against emotional entanglement with their subjects, citing compromised objectivity, blurred boundaries, and the potential erosion of professional distance. This author would like to report that such boundaries are far more porous when your subject brings you coffee and quotes Aeschylus. In the interest of full disclosure: This author ignored the rule. Repeatedly. And with alarming enthusiasm.
Three years later, you live together in a house with creaky floors and a crooked porch light. Wonwoo brings you coffee before you've asked for it, sets it beside your laptop with the reverence usually reserved for sacred texts. He reads your pages in silence, a red pen tucked behind one ear, and presses soft kisses to the back of your neck when you write too late into the night.
The work is fiction. Technically.
But when he gets to the part about juice boxes and Clifford the Big Red Dog, his fingers find yours. He doesn’t say anything, just smiles that slow, knowing smile he saves for when he catches you pretending not to be sentimental.
He's finished his MFA now. Teaches English at the local high school, spends his afternoons grading essays about Of Mice and Men and trying not to laugh when his students call The Iliad “a chore to read.” He comes home smelling like school lunches and adolescent chaos, drops his bag by the door and finds you, always.
The Porsche sits untouched under your window—an inheritance he never asked for, gathering dust and sun-bleached leaves. He takes the train instead. Says he likes the time to read.
Sometimes, you still wake up waiting for someone to call your name and hand you someone else’s kids. Sometimes, you still flinch when your phone rings. But mostly, you write. And mostly, you’re okay.
There is no neat conclusion. Only this:
You’re allowed to want things.
You’re allowed to keep them, too.
cravity reaction to their s/o’s odd affectionate quirks
— requested! ✧ ot9 | cravity masterlist
Hello! if the space for requests are still open could I request a cravity reaction to their s/o's weird affectionate quirks? Like ruffling hair or headbutting (or even one of their odd quirks)? If this doesnt inspire you or the request slots are full, I understand. I hope you are doing well and staying safe! 💕
— a/n: thank you for the req, i'm not sure if i executed this the way you wanted it to be written. though i personally enjoyed writing this one (it's cute lol) hope you're well and safe too! <3
♡ park serim
sitting in the small space next to him. there’s just something with the small space that separates him from the arm of the sofa or the back of the couch. whenever you do it with it, he’d just glance at you for a second. surely, a smile will spread onto his lips. he likes it when you’re close to him, so this is something he actually finds endearing. but sometimes, he’d play around and squeeze you in that space hELP
♡ allen ma
poking or squishing his cheeks. whenever, wherever, just when you’re close enough to him, your hand/finger(s) will be on his cheek(s). allen probably got used to this and doesn’t mind it, though sometimes he’d be like “aren’t you done with my cheeks yet?” with a casual chuckle
♡ koo jungmo
playfully mimicking his actions. sometimes, it’s an exaggeration of his actions. jungmo would be frowning or squinting his eyes while looking at you, thinking if he really did it that way. he’d whine whenever he’s certain that it is a dramatized action, saying “i wasn’t like that!” also him pouting,,, ascend
♡ seo woobin
holding his hand and examining it. woobin would raise a brow at your action, asking you if you’re okay lmao. though i think he finds this gesture cute. sometimes, while you’re doing this, he’d lock your hand on his to interlace your fingers with his before saying, “i like this better” (him referring to holding your hand)
♡ ham wonjin
biting his shoulder. whenever his shoulder is upon your reach, there’s one goal: bite it. wonjin would be teasing you a lot, ranging from “i’m not a food” to “ahh, my y/n can’t resist me.” though sometimes when he’s caught off guard, he’d be letting out semi-frustrated laughter (he can’t bring himself to get mad at your actions lol). whenever he gets the opportunity to do the same to you, he’d probably bite your shoulder too
♡ kang minhee
back hugging him and sliding your hands in the pockets of his hoodies. i don’t think minhee would commit to any verbal reaction, though there’ll be a surprised look sitting on his face momentarily whenever you do this. he’d act as if you’re not doing anything and that it’s just the usual to have your hands in his pockets. minhee would also put his hands there to join your hands, holding it from the back and gently squeezing it
♡ song hyeongjun
stealing the food he is about to take a bite of. he’s about to put the food in his mouth, but you’re quick to bite it before he can. hyeongjun would initially shoot you a glare and stare at you. if you laugh, he’d sigh, feigning disbelief. watch him do the same to you though as some kind of revenge from taking his food lol
♡ kim taeyoung
taking stolen pics of him and only sending him the weird-looking ones. maybe it has already become a habit to take pics of him whenever you’re together. the thing is, you’ll only send him the weird and funny ones. taeyoung seems to not mind it at all, though he’d ask when did you take it or simply play along with it. sometimes with lighthearted sarcasm, he’d say “i look great in that one” despite it being a sheer goofy pic
♡ ahn seongmin
ruffling his hair until it’s all messy. whining at your actions like “really? ahh come on, y/n!” especially when he just finished fixing his hair. sometimes when you don’t stop, he’ll just hold your hand and mess your hair the same way you do to him, calling it quits
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couple workout with park serim
a sleepy groan had made its way out of your lips as he technically carried you out of your shared room. the weak resistance coming from your still drowsy figure had no effect on him.
“please, serim, it’s too early for this.” you pouted but stood in front of the wide television where the routine he’d usually follow was already playing.
he chuckled at your response, cupping your cheeks before planting a soft peck on your lips. “a set of curl-ups, i’ll kiss you every time your elbows touch your thighs.”
the offer sounds good, but you thought of a better one. “how about you curl-up while i hold you and i kiss you each time you rise?”
sunrise with allen ma
despite how you were already wearing a thick layer of clothes, the morning breeze still made you shiver. you weren’t really a fan of waking up early, but allen would always manage to get you off the bed through all the soft and tickling kisses.
the two of you were sitting on the bench by the balcony of your shared unit, watching the sky which was still painted black. it was growing lighter and lighter with each passing minute though.
allen threw his arm on your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. as he leaned back, you allowed your head to rest on his chest, his soft heartbeat offering you a fuzzy feeling.
soon the sun began extruding a bright color in the sky. its warmth slowly spreading.
“regardless of how many times i’ve seen this with you. it’s still beautiful,” allen remarked, his eyes locked in the sky.
“it is.” as you said those words, allen leaned close to you, giving the top of your head a light kiss.
tickles and kisses with koo jungmo
there was no need for any alarms, jungmo’s lips brushing upon your skin as he peppered your face with light kisses were all you needed in the morning. it had been always enough to wake you up, your day starting right off with a smile.
“good morning, y/n,” he greeted, his voice still dripping in drowsiness as he planted a soft peck on your lips. there was a small smile on his lips, contented before he wrapped his arms around you, snuggling closer. “wake up~”
you simply hummed as a reply which wasn’t exactly the response jungmo had usually favored. soon right after, his hand began moving all over your body. an annoyingly funny sensation coursing throughout your body as he tickled you. it was his last straw for waking you up.
laughter filled the room as you tried to wriggle out of jungmo’s grasp. he was already sitting, continuing the act with chuckles leaving his lips.
“okay, okay,” you said in between laughter. “i’m already awake.”
he immediately stopped and extended his hand to pull you off your lying position. another quick kiss. “let’s go and get something to eat.”
breakfast with seo woobin
the couch served as your second bed, your eyes were barely open as you rested your head on the armrest. woobin on the other hand was busy in the kitchen, the sound of the sizzling pan and the smell of the sauteed ingredients wafting in the air.
formerly it was a simple toast, followed by pancakes, but now, woobin has taken it to another level. a complete meal every morning. breakfast is the most important meal of the day, yes?
woobin shook you a little, a light tap on your arm, and your eyes slowly opened once again. what felt like a blink of sleep wasn’t a blink at all.
“breakfast’s ready.” a smile was on his lips as he extended his hand to help you stand. though in the end, he ended up hoisting you up from the living room to the dining area where he had already placed the morning dishes he cooked.
hurried morning preparations with ham wonjin
“i told you to wake me up before six in the morning,” wonjin said, scrambling to find his socks in your shared closet.
you rolled your eyes, sighing afterward. “look, you’re not the only one running late. i woke up late as well!”
mornings were never really a time of peace for you and wonjin. with most of it spent in lighthearted arguments ranging from who should have woken up who to helping each other find the last garment they had to wear.
“here are your socks, silly,” you uttered, walking towards him to hand him the item.
wonjin smiled. “what will i do without you?”
“live a sockless life.”
“sounds right.” hunching his shoulders up, he chuckled at your response.
it didn’t take him too long to finish putting on his socks and a pair of shoes. he grabbed both your bag and his, slinging it both to his shoulder. it was a little act he’d do every morning, carry your things for you. his hand snaked on yours, fingers intertwining afterward. “let’s go, y/n.”
coffee with kang minhee
it wasn’t like both you and minhee were attentive with the morning news playing in the television. the sound it produced simply serving as background noise as the two of you sat on the couch next to each other.
a cup of coffee was in your hand, its warmth spreading, an effective remedy for the chilly morning. minhee had his arms slung on your shoulders, his other hand holding another cup. he would take a few sips every now and then as he gazed at the television.
“what’s your plan today, minhee?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink afterward.
minhee downed another small gulp before he answered. “nothing much.” a contented smile appeared on his countenance as he rested his head on the top of yours. “we can spend the whole day like this if you want to though.”
and you were absolutely not against that idea.
questionable cooking with song hyeongjun
“is that really an egg?” hyeongjun’s laughter had filled the room as he pointed at the burnt egg that you placed on the plate.
you rolled your eyes, settling it on the table. it wasn’t like you were bad at cooking, it was just you forgot to turn the fire low when you went out of the kitchen to receive a parcel. “that’s a new egg recipe, you know?”
“one that could possibly upset your stomach,” hyeongjun teased, a chuckle punctuating his words as he placed two bowls on the table followed by him shuffling in the kitchen to get a box of cereal and milk. he mixed some together, proudly saying, “this is my type of cooking.”
“mixing cereal and milk is not cooking, hyeongjun,” you said. but helped yourself with one of the servings he made.
“at least it’s far better than your burnt eggs.” the pout that decorated your lips simply encouraged a string of laughter to get out of his lips.
“song hyeongjun!”
drowsy talks with kim taeyoung
“and then you arrived.” taeyoung finished off his story with a soft chuckle which was eventually followed by a yawn. light filtered through the blinds, it was already morning and neither of you had gotten even a blink of sleep. too busy with talking, you jumped from a topic to another.
the two of you were sitting on the couch, snuggling under a thick blanket.
“sun’s here,” you said, laughing. for what reason? you don’t know. maybe you were really that sleepy. and maybe taeyoung was of the same state since he also laughed.
“guess, it’s time for us to sleep?” taeyoung suggested, his eyes almost closing. but before it could shut to sleep, he brought his lips close to the top of your head. “good morning, good night, whichever it is. sleep well, y/n.”
morning cuddles with ahn seongmin
regardless of how many times the alarm clock has been set to snooze, none of you got off the bed.
only a few stretches and shifting of positions to get back to sleep was done. you weren’t even halfway back to your dream when the alarm went off again. this time, it was seongmin who attended to it, turning it off to end the buzzing misery.
without opening his eyes, he spread his arms, falling to your figure to give you a hug. his drowsy voice, melting in your ears. “morning, y/n. let’s sleep in.”
you hummed in response since your mind was still unable to form any word as a verbal response. moving closer, you wrapped your arms around him.
it was a weekend anyway, so spending the whole day snuggling close to seongmin wasn’t a bad idea. never will it be.
I FORGOT MY TAEYOUNG FIC IDEA I HATE IT HERE (ignore the fact that i have like 5 more taeyoung ideas, it's not the point)
anyways, send me some fluffy cravity ideas? pretty sure i'm going to want to write for all of them soon enough, while i binge the entirety of cravity park :')
↳ prompt: 4. We slept in the same bed for space reasons but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair (source)
↳ pairing: taeyoung x gender neutral reader
↳ genre: pure fluff
↳ themes & tropes: best friends to lovers, sharing a bed
↳ warnings: profanity
↳ word count: 687 words
↳ notes: i’m not gonna lie, this has been in my drafts for a year and was written during my immense taeyoung brainrot of august 2021 so at this pt i just want it out of my hands. honestly, i’m surprised i managed to write a drabble so quickly for a guy i only found out about, like, a week before (at the time). this is so self-indulgent that it hurts and i don’t expect anyone to read it (considering my blog is primarily tbz/svt), but if you do, thank you <3 again, my apologies for not being very active :(
Summary: Taeyoung wanted to cook for you as a surprise for your birthday. But as he put all the ingredients on the table to prepare them in a short moment, he had to realise that some had gone bad. There was no way now to cook your favourite dish, or is there?
It was your birthday and your boyfriend Taeyoung wanted to surprise you. Every year on your birthday he thought of something, whether he was on tour or not. If he was on tour, he made sure that his mother gave you the present of him, and if he was home, he gave it to you. From flowers over jewellery to taking you out. There was always something new.
Just like now when he decided to cook your favourite dish. Even though Taeyoung was not the biggest cook nor was he passionate about it. He had prepared everything for weeks because the ingredients were hard to get.
When Taeyoung decided to cook for you he had no idea how much trouble that could be. And he was more grateful than ever that usually, you were the one taking care of it. You had to remember so much. You had to plan the ingredients paper and look for them in different stores only to find out that each ingredient was in a different store. Alone from the shopping, Taeyoung was already exhausted, and the more he did it, the happier he was once it was over. But this was a special occasion, and it was something he truly wanted to do because it was for you.
Even though Taeyoung knew it wasn’t his biggest strength, he was determined to do this the right way. “ What could go wrong with a recipe in hand?” Taeyoung thought. Well, a lot more than Taeyoung had ever imagined.
It all started the morning when you were already at work, and Taeyoung prepared the surprise. When he realised that it was raining, he should have somehow thought that the day would not be a good one. The feeling increased when Taeyoung almost fell down the stairs on the way to the kitchen and somehow that feeling stayed. Soon he knew why.
As he was putting the ingredients onto the table, sorting them for easier access later, he saw the expiration date. The date caught his eye because the date was four weeks ago.
Taeyoung sighed and looked at them, to see if he could use them, but unfortunately one of them showed mould and Taeyoung had to throw it away. As he was staring at the remaining ingredients, he had no idea how to proceed. There was a recipe, but the main ingredients were now in the bin. What was he supposed to do now? His whole plan of surprising you was ruined. He took out his phone and called his mother, perhaps she knew how to save him.
“Binnie, how are you?” his mother cheered on the other side of the phone.
“Eomma…” Taeyoung pouted, standing in the kitchen like a lost deer in the forest.
“What’s wrong? Did anything happen?” his mother instantly got serious, probably also sitting up from wherever she was lying.
“I wanted to prepare (Y/N)’s favourite dish, but three of the ingredients gone bad and I have no idea how to cook this dish without the recipe now,” Taeyoung explained.
“Aigoo... (Y/N)’s favourite dish is complex, even I haven’t asked her yet how to do it. Can’t you order it somewhere?”
“No, because the restaurants don’t sell it lately.” Taeyoung pouted. “Well, I will search on the internet a little, maybe I can find something. Thank you anyways.” Taeyoung tried to lift his mood, by smiling lightly, even though his mother didn’t see it.
“I am sure, she would not mind you cooking something else.” his mother said before ending the call.
Taeyoung put his hands on the counter and leaned his body on it. He looked at the ingredients and then stroked through his hair. Then he was searching on the internet for any solutions, but no one ever answered the many questions on those ‘help websites. Taeyoung sighed and was so concentrated on finding a solution that he had not noticed that you had come home earlier.
You looked at him a little longer and then at the ingredients knowing what he had planned. In addition, you saw the missing ingredients sticking out of the bin, realising what this was about.
Before you could announce yourself, Taeyoung harshly put his phone on the counter and buried his face into his hands. Your heart was aching. Taeyoung tried so hard to prepare something, only to find out that he was not able to do it. But honestly, this was already enough for you; the time he took to prepare this, the idea of cooking your favourite dish. It meant a lot to me.
You walked over to Taeyoung and gently put an arm on his back. His head shot up and he looked surprised at you. “(Y/N)?? You were not supposed to be home for the next two hours.” he pouted. “I can’t even save this situation anymore.” he looked around.
You walked in front of him, hugging his waist and looking into his brown eyes. “You can save this. My favourite dish isn’t as complicated as you might think.” you cupped his face. “And you thinking about doing this already meant more to me than you could imagine.” you smiled, pulling Taeyoung’s lips to a smile with your thumbs.
Taeyoung chuckled. “So you are not mad it didn’t work?”
You shook your head. “I am delighted to see the effort. And well, you may not have succeeded, but…” you grinned.
Taeyoung narrowed his eyes. “But?”
“But, you can do my favourite dish with the remaining ingredients, adding a few spices that we have at home.” Taeyoung’s eyes lit up. “Really? So, I can still do it?”
“How about we both prepare my favourite dish, and you will know how to do it another time?” you suggested.
“Sounds more than perfect.” Taeyoung grinned, suddenly having his whole energy back.
“Thank you, Taeyoung. Really. Even though you couldn’t fully prepare the dish yourself. This means a lot to me.” You smiled.
Taeyoung kissed your forehead. “Next time I can prepare it because I will remember every step we do now.”
You smiled and continued to smile, while preparing the dinner, together with him. You were so delighted, to have a thoughtful boyfriend like Taeyoung.
request for: @nctloverkpop. I switched up the themeing a bit but we came to an agreement about cravity scenarios wherein the boys help you get through a tough time. I had a lot of fun writing these and hope you and any one who sees this likes it and maybe feels comforted by it (sorry it took so long). Anyways enjoy ✨
warnings/headsup: discussions of mental health • no specific disorders named • depression • anxiety • woobin’s includes a very bloody lip • mentions of food • arguable depictions of self harm • hurt/comfort • 1.2k words average • 10.6k words total • gender neutral reader • angst if you squint • fluff • lightly proofread
couple scenarios: members x reader pt.I/I
❥Serim
Serim sat at the edge of the bed. He watched as you paced back and forth across the multicolored rug you had picked out just a few weeks ago. You shook out your wrists and loosened your fingers as Serim slowly raised and lowered his arms trying his best to redirect your breathing.
“In… and out… in… and out…” he tried his best to demonstrate and jog your memory on the techniques people had previously taught you. Today it was just taking a particularly long while.
“What’s the point! It’s not working!” You whined, continuing to pace the floor.
“It’ll work eventually, you just have to be patient.” Serim said.
“I don’t want eventually, I want now!” You mumbled to yourself, now stomping your feet on the carpet. “This sucks!” You moaned collapsing to the floor and rapidly chewing at your nails.
“It may suck but it’s totally normal.” Serim said “things are really hard on you right now, it makes sense to feel freaked out.”
You groaned and clawed at your hair. Serim’s ability to remain calm in almost any situation where you felt like you were losing your goddamn mind was somehow both comforting and infuriating. “Oh. My. God.” You muttered angrily under your breath. You could feel the tension in your bones. It travelled through you and settled amidst each of your joints making you feel like a poorly made and fractured wooden doll. You felt internally rusted like the bumper on an old car. “You’re driving me insane.” You whispered under your breath as quietly as you could.
“I heard that y’a know.”
You looked up from your crouched over position on the floor to see Serim standing up from the bed and coming over to crouch down next to you. His refusal and near inability to ever get mad at you was something that made you truly love him. It was one of the many reasons you had asked him to move in with you and pick new furniture, and appliances, and rugs, and so so so much more… but it was also something unfamiliar. You weren’t used to someone being so unbothered by all of your moods. You weren’t used to him not batting an eye when your whole body locked up. You weren’t used to someone immediately trying to take action and not running in the other direction when your ploys for stress relief became self-destructive. You weren’t used to Serim.
However you had to start getting used to him quickly, because he had already settled in with most of his stuff. You looked at him as he looked back at you, not a trace of animosity in his eyes. Serim simply waddled over to you, hunched over in the same position. With one hand lazily strewn across his knees and the other slowly patting your head. “Are you sure you don’t want to try the breathing again, and I mean actually try this time.” He looked at you expectantly waiting for some kind of response. Like two frogs squatting on a lily pad you two both sat there in silence for a moment. A very long moment.
You let out a long exasperated sigh and conceded “I’ll try the breathing exercises… again”.
He didn’t do a very good job of hiding it but Serim did his best to conceal the fact that he was beaming on the inside.
Later that night, the two of you had to sit down and have a long conversation about what it would be like living together. “As much as I love you and I want to be the one to take care of you, you know I can’t always be the one to remind you of what to do when you feel like you’re going to a dark place…” He said “Obviously I’m still going to be there for you… I just worry about what might happen when I’m gone for work or something” He confessed.
“I know… and I don’t want you to worry about me. I just feel like I’ve been dealing with a lot lately and I’ve been taking it out on you.” Your voice was low and meek and you looked down while saying it. “I feel like I’m self sabotaging in more ways than one.” You admitted.
“Well there’s nothing you could really do to sabotage our relationship.” Serim said earnestly reaching out a hand to grab yours and placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I just like you too much” he chuckled.
It took a couple hours to get you to feel calm again. Serim had to pull your hands away from your mouth to stop you from chewing your nails down to minute nubs more times than he could count, but his ardent love for you would have him standing around and trying his best to keep your wits about you forever and ever.
No matter how many breakdowns, or meltdowns, or freakouts he had witnessed it wasn’t enough to deter him from you because Serim knew that you would do the same for him. Despite your near constant refusal to take care of your own mental health, he had experienced all the times you had looked out for his. The many times you put his needs above your own made any attempt on your part to try and scare him away totally futile.
Serim watched as you steadied your breathing, before taking out some of your frustration on all the cardboard boxes that needed to be broken down and taken to the recycling bin. Whenever it seemed like your blood pressure would begin to rise again Serim would simply give you a comforting hug from behind, resting his head between your neck and shoulders, humming softly; his aura just had a way of rubbing off on you. Did that mean that this would be the last time the two of you would ever have to have these sorts of conversations on these sorts of days? Absolutely not. But that din’t mean you couldn’t look forward to having them together…
❥Allen
You had run out of tears long ago but that didn’t stop you from sniffling through belabored breaths as you laid on the couch. Of course Allen stuck close behind. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other propping up his head to get a better view of the TV.
It didn’t take him long to realize you weren’t really crying at the cheesy movie splayed across the television screen. You were more wrapped up with something else. You swore it was nothing, and to you, that may have really been true! Sometimes you got emotional or overstimulated for reasons you couldn’t really understand, even if your boyfriend knew that there probably was some underlying specific reason. The reason didn’t always matter, what mattered was how you felt in the moment, and right now you felt… well neither of you were quite sure how to feel?
“What’s wrong?” Allen whispered into your ear as he pulled you just a tiny bit closer.
“I really don’t know…” you said. You had been crying for so long that even if there was a reason for it in the first place you had forgotten it by now.
Allen snuggled closer to you as you did the same. Melting into his embrace and struggling to trace back the reason for your sadness, you still found it cathartic to let your emotions take over once in a blue moon.
Like a wave it washed over you at times though. You often had trouble experiencing your emotions but your emotions sure as hell had no trouble experiencing you. They had a way of taking you over that made it nearly impossible to focus on anything else while also making it incredibly difficult to pinpoint the triggers in the first place.
No matter what though, Allen always had a way of bringing you back to Earth. His calm and gentle demeanor, and carefree attitude made it so that you could always be yourself around him. Even if that self you needed to be wasn’t very pretty at times, he was always there taking notes and remembering things on how to help you better cope with your feelings the next time, and the next time…
Sometimes your big heart and structureless brain hindered you, sometimes they made life harder. But sometimes those things brought you to people like Allen.
The first time you ever cried in front of him felt mortifying! You were a complete blubbering mess and yet he still wanted to go out with you.
“Everybody cries” he had told you, no sense of irony in his voice.
“Yeah but I cry like… a lot” you responded.
All he did was shrug.
Now here you two were, almost a year later and you were still a self prescribed crybaby. Though, Allen didn’t like it when you called your self that, he found it demeaning and reductive but he also could acknowledge that you did cry! A lot! Not that it made him like you any less it just made him want to look after for you extra hard.
Allen lightly patted your stomach in a delicate rhythm making sure to not pull too much attention to the ways in which he was trying to comfort you. Of course he was letting you cry (or at least try to) for as long as you needed and he hummed softly in time with his small taps, subtly helping you focus on something other than whatever thoughts were running around up in your head. He really was helping, you just didn’t realize it. He was so good at helping without you realizing in fact, that it took him a good amount of time to notice that you weren’t awake anymore.
“Hey do you want to maybe watch something else?” He asked no longer hearing sniffling and wondering if that would make you want to move on the something more cheerful. “Or do you want to… cry some more?” He asked quietly peeking his head over yours to get a good look at your face. “So cute” he audibly cooed seeing your puffy cheeks and eyes squished against the soft fabric of the couch with your mouth slightly agape. “You poor thing.” He said to himself with more affection in his voice than any sort of pity.
Allen did his best to unlatch his arm from under you and move his legs that had found themselves intertwined with yours. He carefully wormed his way off of the couch and onto the carpet as quietly as possible. He reached an arm out to place it under your head and support your neck before pausing when you started fidgeting around again.
You always were prone to talking in your sleep. “Allen…” you muttered unconsciously, repeating his name a few times before flopping over fully asleep and snoring again.
Your boyfriend did the gentlemanly thing and supported your head before scooping you up and bringing you to his room. He made sure you were extra comfortable, covering every inch of you except the very top of your head in the biggest, fluffiest blanket he could find. You pawed at the blanket pulling it closer and Allen pushed some pillows into your arms as you began surrounding the pile of softness and fabric in your tight grip. You hugged them as if it were your boyfriend, none the wiser in your asleep state. Allen gave you a small peck on the part of your forehead that was still visible and quietly tiptoed out of the room.
He made sure to check on you every once in a while and rub your back or whisper something to you softly whenever you began tossing and turning again. He was used to regularly helping you fall back asleep when you had restless nights or night terrors so this was a walk in the park for him.
The next morning you awoke to utter darkness before clawing your way out of the cocoon Allen had made for you. The sheer white curtains in his room billowed in the morning breeze as you rolled over and noticed a small glass of water and a little pharmacy bag on the nightstand next to you. You had no idea when he had the time to slip out and get those as it was still quite early in the morning but all that crying, and tossing, and turning always gave you the most viscous headache. You wasted no time in sitting up and taking the pain medicine from the little parcel and taking a big swig of water.
A few minutes later the door to his room ever so slightly creaked open as Allen did his best to quietly shimmy through the doorway. “Oh you’re awake! Sorry I didn’t get breakfast or anything I assumed you’d be out for a little while longer.”
You stuck out your bottom lip pouting and wordlessly outstretching both of your arms signaling with your hands for him to come over. He complied, hopping up onto the bed and giving you a giant bear hug. He pulled back to look at you as more tears welled up in your eyes but these ones were more positive. You always appreciated how caring Allen was, how quickly he would move to help you without a second thought and without him, you wondered how miserable an entire nighttime of crying alone followed by a morning of throbbing headaches you had to deal with all by yourself would have been. You hugged him tightly, showing your appreciation the best you could as Allen leaned back to wipe some of the tears out of your eyes, worry fading and turning into a quiet chuckle as he realized you were now mostly okay.
Allen looked over at his phone “yeah we’ve still got so much of the day left, do you want to sleep more?” You nodded and hugged him tighter planting a small kiss on his neck. “Do you want me to join you?” He asked.
“Of course!” you chimed, voice still groggy but incredibly sincere.
❥Jungmo
Jungmo sat on the couch scrolling on his phone and playing with the collar of his tie as he waited for you to get ready. He hated having to dress up just to go to stuffy places and talk to a bunch of boring people and executives all night, but he had been invited to an upscale event and was required to go. At least he didn’t have to go alone, you were always down to join him in the things he found so boring, always whispering jokes and sharing drinks together in the corner of the room. He was excited to see what you would be wearing too! That was one of the few things helping him get excited for tonight. You were taking a little longer than usual to get ready but you also had an incredibly extensive closet and the biggest collection of accessories he had ever seen so he didn’t want to rush you. I mean, he didn’t want to rush you, but you guys were cutting it close if you took too much longer. “Y/N you almost done?” He asked walking over to the bathroom where you were supposed to be finishing up. “We can have like ten or fifteen more minutes but then we should probably g- Oh! You’re already ready!” He said barging into the bathroom and looking at you as your palms were placed flat on the counter and you stared into the mirror. “Wait, let me take a picture first, you look great!” He said excitedly.
You placed your hand over his phone and gently pushed it down. You shook your head and sighed. “No I don’t…” you trailed off.
Jungmo looked baffled. “What do you mean? You look amazing!” He said standing a little closer.
“Well I don’t feel amazing.” You retorted.
Jungmo took a second to take you in. He looked you up and down and then cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Why not?” He asked. “I think you look incredible!”
You bowed your head and let out an exasperated groan. “Something’s just off… I just don’t look right.”
To him you looked breathtaking! Gorgeous enough to make him forget you two were supposed to be somewhere else in a few minutes time. “What’s off?”
“Just like… all of it!” A sad expression plastering your face. You rolled your eyes a bit every time you caught a glimpse of your own reflection in the bathroom mirror and huffed in annoyance at a problem you felt like couldn’t be fixed. “I can’t let anyone see me like this…” you said.
“I see you like this-“ Jungmo replied “and I like what I see.” He smiled.
“Yeah but your opinion doesn’t count you would have said that no matter what.”
“My opinion should be the only one that counts!” He said “Especially when you’re being way too hard on yourself.” Jungmo rubbed small circles onto your back in an attempt to encourage you. “Where’s all this coming from? Do I not tell you how good you look enough?”
“You tell me plenty!” You scoffed “it’s just something about this outfit, something about-“
“Then we’ll change the outfit. You’ve got plenty of stuff in your closet you barely ever get to wear!” Jungmo grabbed your hand but you stood still as a statue stopping him from dragging you away.
“That’s easy for you to say… you look great in everything.” You looked down at the floor.
Jungmo pouted. “The only reason I look good in everything is because you pick out all my clothes. I’d look a mess without you” he laughed.
You nodded your head in acknowledgment but still you weren’t fully convinced “maybe you should just go without me.”
“Go without you, are you crazy?” Jungmo furrowed his brows in complete shock. “When could I ever- how could I ever go to one of these boring corporate events without you?” He boomed. “I’m your boyfriend! Either we’re both going or neither of us are going!” He said unusually sternly for his laid back nature. “It’s up to you whether you want to stay or you want to go but either way I’m doing it with you!” He said. “And if this is all just over one outfit that’s an easy fix. We can be late, let’s go pick something else out.”
“Jungmo… I want to go with you I really do, but I just don’t want to drag you down…”
“You have got to stop saying stuff like this” he said. “You look great! You always look great! Even if you’re not feeling great I promise you no one in the world can tell but you… and maybe me on a good day.” He joked.
“You really don’t think I look awful?” You asked genuinely worried.
“It’s be impossible for you of all people to look awful.”
You sighed taking one more look back at yourself in the mirror. You still didn’t think you looked quite right and even just thinking of your reflection made you feel queasy, but if Jungmo thought you looked good then maybe you really did. You still wanted to change clothes though. The fabric all of a sudden felt constricting on your skin, it felt like a million tiny mites were crawling all over you. “Okay I’ll go change.” You said patting Jungmo’s chest and exiting the bathroom. He followed you out and to your bedroom where you began rifling through your closet looking for something else to wear that still matched your boyfriend and felt appropriate for the event. He stood there watching you for a moment.
“Do you need any help?” He asked.
“No, no I can do this myself. It’s more of a mental thing anyways, I won’t take too long”. You looked back for a second as Jungmo was still standing there watching you. “Can you go wait for me in the living room?” He didn’t budge.“Jungmo! Go wait outside.”
He looked surprised “Oh you’re serious.
“Yes I’m serious, I’m feeling kind of self conscious right now…” you said in earnest.
“Why though, it’s nothing I haven’t seen befo- Ouch that hurt!” Jungmo said taking a wadded up dress shirt to the face. “Okay fine I’ll wait for you in the living room” he said trudging off and rubbing his eye in slight irritation.
A few minutes later you reappeared into the common area of the apartment dressed in all new clothes. Jungmo smiled and clutched his phone once more. “Better?” He asked.
“Better!” you said.
“Now can we take a picture?” His eyes gleamed with hope as he swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet.
You hesitated for a moment. “Yeah sure, why not.”
Jungmo quickly grabbed your hand and raised his phone up to snap a few selfies of him kissing you on the cheek before you both rushed out the door. He still made sure to keep a tight clasp on your hand however. He also made sure to check in every so often as to how you were feeling. Most importantly, he made sure to keep reminding you of how good you looked all night. Even if you didn’t see it, even if you didn’t believe, even if your mind tried to convince you otherwise, Jungmo made sure to always be there as a ‘pick me up’ to make sure you were reminded of the reality right in front of you. The reality of having a partner that saw you for who you really were and would never falter when it came to reminding you of that.
❥Woobin
You placed your hand on the arm rest of the passenger’s seat and tapped your fingers in quick and nervous succession as Woobin held your other hand and started up the car. He whistled along to the radio and swayed his head to whatever ‘summery’ ballad was currently playing and set up the navigation app on his phone in blissful ignorance.
Since the weather had finally started warming up a mutual friend had invited the two of you over for a big get together. Though it was a relatively casual engagement, you still felt that all too familiar sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. The feeling you got every time you were about to ride a roller coaster, give a presentation, get lost on a hike, or in cases like these; go somewhere with a whole lot of people. You pulled at and fidgeted with the hem of your pants, letting go of the arm rest and aimlessly searching for some sort of cord or loose thread to pull on. You swallowed harshly feeling a lump form in your throat as Woobin absentmindedly rubbed his thumb across your knuckles with his free hand as he began to drive.
You could feel your heart rate rise as your body temperature did the same before quickly dropping again and again. You could’ve sworn you were sweating but turning on the A/C in the car felt like way too much. Your hands started to feel clammy as you looked over at Woobin who quickly glanced over to give you a warm smile before focusing his attention back on the road. His general sense of calm and the beautiful weather should have been enough to calm you down but it wasn’t really working. All you could focus on was the noise of tires scraping the road, the blaring music, the sunlight that was shining directly into your eyes, and how warm you felt. Or were you cold? You couldn’t really tell but what you knew for sure was that you did not feel good.
You almost started to feel nauseous as the car grazed over a tiny pot hole and your vision began to fog over a bit. You felt dizzy like you needed to sit down, but restless like you needed to just stand up and run all at the same time. You wanted to say something, and every time you looked over at Woobin you were almost compelled to, but for some reason or another the words just couldn’t escape your mouth.
“Are you okay?” Woobin’s voice rang out a little delayed in your ears but eventually registering properly.
You felt sick, you felt like garbage, you felt terrible! So of course you replied quickly “yeah I’m doing fine, I’m excited!” You said practically through gritted teeth, a cheesy grin plastered on your face. Why you lied? You had no clear idea. What you did know was that lying to him made you feel worse.
You chewed at your lip furiously as you often did when feeling anxious. You let out fast paced yet silent breath out through your nose and tried your hardest not to tap your feet in frustration. Your lips felt near swollen but you couldn’t stop biting. You bit, and bit, and bit until all you could taste was the metallic tasting saliva pooling on the tip of your tongue. Before you knew it, you were looking down as small red droplets dripped from the bottom corner of your lip and into the creases amongst woven denim of your pants “shit” you muttered to yourself. You just sat there and watched for a moment in a silent daze before speaking up. “Uh Binnie can we stop the car?”
“Yeah sure. Why?” He replied quickly adjusting his turn signal and pulling over into the farthest possible lane without hesitation.
As soon as the car stopped you turned to make awkward eye contact with your partner as he gazed in worry at the beet red complexion of your lips. “What happened?” Woobin scrambled to grab some tissues out of the glove compartment and wipe at your face. “When did you start bleeding? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” He said eyes darting around looking for a cotton ball, or bandage, or anything of the sort. “Your jeans…” he said softly but still continued his frantic search.
“I think I’m gonna pass out.” you uttered plainly, stopping your partner in his tracks. You watched his dark brown eyes widen like saucers and then fill themselves with a new sense of determination!
Before you knew it you were sitting on a curb by the side of the rode near some random convenience store. Woobin returned shortly thereafter with a cold bottle of water, a first aid kit, and some tissues. He wasted no time in fixing up your lip and taking some solvent from the first aid kit to wipe at the little stains on your pants. He worked diligently sitting on the curb next to you, an array of medical materials strewn about. Watching him so focused helped calm you down a little bit, but you still weren’t feeling entirely better.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asked nervously searching every inch of visible skin he could find on you.
You grabbed his hands and looked him in the eyes. “Babe I’m okay now.”
You could see the apprehension in the befuddled stare he gave you.
“Really, I mean it. I’m okay now!” You repeated.
Woobin swallowed a little bit and took a moment to gauge the look in your eyes before crushing you with a hug and rubbing your back as you both sat on the ground by the car. “Alright I believe you” he said before letting go and giving you a second to catch your breath.
You two decided to take a moment to enjoy the fresh air before getting back into the car. It really was a beautiful day out. There was a perfect amount of breeze and just the two of you sitting together made you feel much more at ease.
You both enjoyed your time in the sunshine looking up at the sky and taking in the tranquil scenery. “Look at that one it kind of looks like a cuddly bear doesn’t it”. Woobin giggled pointing at a cluster of clouds arranged ever so perfectly in the shape of a bear’s head with two perfectly fluffy cheeks and round ears to match. Finally, the cars didn’t feel so loud, and the air didn’t feel so stuffy. Woobin pointed up at the sky while expertly unscrewing the cap and placing a bottle of water in your hands without you noticing.
“Yeah it does, it looks a lot like you” you joked taking a swig of water and cooling down.
About half an hour later the two of you had your fill of pointing out silly shapes in the clouds and had stopped back into the store to grab some well deserved treats. Re-positioning himself at the wheel, Woobin took his phone off the dashboard and slipped it into his pocket.
“What about the party, don’t you need the directions up still?”
“Nah… let’s just go home, you’ve had enough socializing for the day.” He said clasping your hand once more and giving you a knowing smile.
“Do we really have to do this Wonjin”. You groaned loudly, leaning your head back over one of your dining room chairs as Wonjin sat across from you and peered at your contorted face through the top of the frames of his glasses.
He took a deep breath “Y/N we really do.” He said clicking his pen and running it down the different elements of a check list.
“It feels so… silly It makes me feel like fucking kid!”
“Well it works doesn’t it?” Wonjin said.
“Can’t we do something else? You know like a normal couple…”
“We are a normal couple! We just have a system and the system works, so we have to keep doing it.” He replied not looking up from his official looking clip board.
You sneered a little in response “Why though…”
You and Wonjin had implemented a new process into both of your nightly routines where you would sit down and check off all of the necessary things you needed to do to function throughout any given day. Most of the things seemed intuitively simple but you and him both knew better than anyone else that one bad mood could send you into a spiral that prevented you from getting such simple things as grabbing the mail from your mailbox done once a week. If you were feeling down, you were dismal. It made it impossible for you to remember to take care of yourself when you had other things going on so Wonjin drafted up a list of some of the most basic things you needed to do each day. Things that came incredibly naturally to others but not so much to you. Wonjin made sure to get all the proper materials to make the process seem more legitimate to you. He got a special list typed up and laminated, dry erase markers for the fridge, brand new pens, a clipboard, sticky notes, and a tiny box full of trinkets and treats. You didn’t appreciate the machinations of his executive brain but that was okay, he was really proud of himself. He was especially proud with the box he had gotten. Not only would you get to reach in and grab a small reward each night but Wonjin would get one too if you completed all your tasks so that he could be more encouraged to help you. Not that he really needed any material incentive. This was something he would have done for you anyways, but making it a collaborative effort made you feel a little less alone.
The rewards inside the box were quite small but they were still enough to round out the rest of your night very positively. It was mostly full of stickers, charms, small bills, and little slips of paper with things like ‘have dessert a second time’ written on them. It was a crudely decorated little thing, covered in glitter glue and plastic gems with a picture from your anniversary stuck to the inside. The gifts may have been small but they still managed to brighten you up a bit even if you felt childish having to be monitored so closely.
You gave him a hard time about it but it really was helpful how Wonjin took the initiative in making sure you got things done. He got tired of always asking you about your day and not loving what he heard. At first you objected to the idea of a to do list being of any help to you and your mental health, but it was frustrating how well it worked.
Wonjin raised a single eyebrow and looked back over at you. “So I’m assuming you don’t want to pick anything from the special prize bin today?” He said.
“It’s not a ‘special prize bin’ it’s a cheap wooden jewelry box from the craft store.” You said.
“Well I’m gonna pick something from the special prize bin.” Wonjin made a big show of closing his eyes reaching into the box and rummaging his hand around in there for a while before pulling something out and immediately hiding it. He quickly hid his hands under the table and looked at something tucked away within his palms.
“What’d you get?” You asked slightly disinterested but still leaning over the table to better see what he grabbed.
“Uh-uh, no way. You didn’t wanna pick anything” Wonjin said sticking out his tongue at you. “Not my fault you didn’t want a prize.”
“If I pick something will you let me see what you got?” You asked.
“I don’t know…” he said “I think you deserve a prize but if you don’t think you deserve one that’s not on me.”
“I don’t deserve a prize for eating dinner…” you bit your lip and looked down.
“Of course you do! But I’m still not showing you what I got until you pick something…”
“Fine.” You said reaching for the box. Wonjin excitedly cracked it open for you just enough to reach your hand in and mull around for something that felt… right. You dug around for a bit and pulled out a chunky metal heart charm. “Cute enough.” You said to yourself. “Now what did you get Wonjinnie?”
Wonjin pouted and furrowed his brows. “Wait no I want to trade, you’ll like mine more anyways!” He said trying to grab the charm from you before you pulled your arms away.
“Since when have we ever done that?”
“Since now!” He said brows still fervently knitted together. Wonjin placed a little gachapon figurine on the table and offered it to you. You weren’t exactly sure who or what it was, but you did recognize that it was a character from one of his favorite comics.
“Why would I want something that was so clearly meant for you” you asked. “All I got was some like.. brecelet charm?”
“Just because.” Wonjin said, and you noticed his face redden a bit.
“Okay, okay fine…” You said and handed over the charm. The figure was pretty cute anyways and it reminded you of your boyfriend, so it wasn’t a big deal.
Wonjin would never admit why he was feeling so shy but he was glad you had just dismissed your prize and traded with him. If your eyes had been a little keener you might have noticed the small latch on the ‘charm’ you had picked out and realized it was actually a locket. Inside was a small picture of you as a kid smiling big, holding some sort of old stufffed animal. You hated looking at your childhood pictures for some reason, maybe because it brought back unpleasant memories, or maybe because it reminded you of a time in your life when you didn’t need a list to keep your mental stability in check, but Wonjin loved those pictures all the same. No matter how goofy you looked he loved them because he loved you and a little locket was the perfect gift to get him ready to do this all over again tomorrow. Even if you whined and complained, you just being here to complain, alive and well was what he really needed…
❥Minhee
Chores were always a thing that calmed you down, and as much as he might’ve hated doing them… Minhee loved you more.
You hadn’t spoken a word to each other in hours. You were diligently refolding and reorganizing each and every single article of clothing in your dresser drawers and closet. Why you had to be doing this on a beautiful Saturday afternoon he had no idea, but he was helping you anyway.
The weirder, more tedious, and unnecessary a chore was the bigger the issue you were currently dealing with. Sure it was a bit of a drag to be spending an hour and a half washing dishes, or in this instance multiple hours folding and ironing clothes but he preferred this to the ways you would try to divert stress when he had first met you.
Back then it would have been impossible for you to take breather without punishing yourself in some way but Minhee’s willingness to just tag along and do whatever you were already doing really helped you feel comfortable amidst the internal mayhem. For Minhee doing chores was a form of punishment but to you it was pure bliss.
You would often have periods of time where you just couldn’t get words out, to anyone, no matter what they were or no matter why you wanted or needed to say to them, but as a quiet person himself, Minhee didn’t feel totally uncomfortable in the silence. He liked the way the two of you could just be together, existing in the same space simply able to enjoy each other’s company. For each of you the presence alone of the other felt so grounding.
Minhee remembered a long time ago when you had told him that it was enough for him to just ‘be around’ and that made you feel better. It was then that his crush on you grew tenfold and he just knew he had to tell you about it. Of course he never did, he was too shy, but you guys had ended up together anyways!
It was times like these, where he sat crosslegged in front of your tidy ironing board, creasing out only a few wrinkles on some your clothes, that he was reminded of how you truly felt about him without having to say it with words. Even when you were struggling and couldn’t find the strength to speak, the way your pinky would ever so slightly graze his when passing garments back and forth or how your eyes would shoot up and follow his every movement every time he got up to walk away.
No matter what he would always say something along the lines of “Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere.”
If Minhee said he’d be back in a minute, not even sixty-one seconds could pass before he would make his way back to you. It always broke his heart and simultaneously endeared him the way your puppy like eyes would wordlessly follow him around a room, or how still you’d sit upon waiting for him to come back. But he aways did come back, so you didn’t have to worry.
Your fingers worked with an almost mathematical precision going through every t-shirt, every pair of pants, every button up, every pair of socks, everything! He never thought the time would come but eventually the two of you finished.
It almost startled him when you spoke for the first time in ages even though your voice was so soft and low. “Do you want me to do yours?” You asked genuinely, while placing the last piece of clothing onto a hook and shutting the closet door.
‘Could you be any more adorable…’ He thought to himself. “That’s okay Y/N” He said and walked over squishing your cheeks between his palms and peppering kisses all across your face. “Do you wanna talk about why we just spent four hours reorganizing your already perfectly organized clothes?” He cocked his head to the side and looked down at you. “-And why you want to do even more…”
You looked down in shame “I think I just want to be distracted right now. I feel like I need to be doing something… just anything…”
Minhee understood what that meant. There were times when talking was helpful and very necessary and there were other times were those conversations needed to be put off until later. Sure it tore him up a little bit inside that you didn’t immediately feel comfortable telling him what was wrong but he also would much rather you be keeping yourself busy and enjoying his company than locking yourself away. There were times when you would be so far gone that even if he physically shook you, you couldn’t reach him. There were times when the silence wasn’t a comfortable understanding but rather, a sinister creeping energy that loomed over the both of you stopping you from being to able to experience anything in that moment. Sometimes it scared him the way your mind could so easily take you away from him, but it impressed him all the more when you could pull yourself out. He was always with you every step of the way, charging uphill to make you feel better. And if what would make you feel better right now was going through all of his laundry then that’s what the rest of this Saturday would be made to do.
“We can do mine… my hamper’s full of stuff anyways!” He said.
“Thanks Minhee.” You said “Okay go get your basket, I’m already getting antsy!”
You appreciated how easily he could flip the script and just go along with whatever you needed in that moment. “I owe you ice cream or something…” You said trying your best to sound chipper.
Minhee trudged over with his enormous pile of laundry and gave you a playful scoff “You owe me more than just ice cream. You owe me whatever four hours worth of food is!”
You let out a small laugh “I promise I’ll wake up early tomorrow morning and cook you something that takes at least four hours to make. You can enjoy your Sunday morning by sleeping in.”
“Alright deal!” He said. Knowing full well that he would make himself wake up just as early as you so he could help you in the kitchen. “I’m toootally gonna enjoy sleeping in!”
❥Hyeongjun
You absolutely hated work! Not just work in general, but the work that you had to do specifically. Coming home from a long day at your job always left you drained. Your boss was always micromanaging, and your coworkers loved any and all types of gossip at your expense. It didn’t help that you were the youngest in the office either. It was nearly impossible to stick up for yourself without later receiving some sort of reprimand in the form of extra hours with no extra pay. Almost every weekday had you returning home absolutely exhausted. You’d slip your shoes off at the door and lazily slip your work attire off piece by piece leaving a trail of clothes on the floor before taking a nice long hot shower. After your shower, there was no guarantee you’d be energetic enough to make dinner so you’d rummage around in your fridge and just eat the first thing you saw. On particularly bad days you would immediately lay on the couch entering a state that was borderline catatonic. Some nights it felt like you only had time to lay on the couch for a minute and blink your eyes a few times. Before you knew it, the sky was a tiny bit brighter and the alarm on your phone was going off again signaling to you that it was now the start of another long day. Begrudgingly getting up and beginning to get ready was always incredibly difficult, but recently right before you walked out the door you would get a little text of encouragement every day.
You had only gone out on about three and a half dates (one of them was cut short due to a last minute call from your boss) but Hyeongjun was already so in tune with your schedule. It might’ve partially been because you complained about work so much that he had just picked up on it that way, but his little digital pep-talks always had a way of putting a smile on your face. Even on the darkest of days. It’s like he sensed when a day was going to be more difficult than any of the others because his messages were always the sweetest the mornings right before you experienced hell.
Hyeongjun made you feel like color had re-entered the world. Life had felt so black and gray for so long and you couldn’t remember the last time you had been excited to talk to someone. He was always cheerful but not too cheerful, empathetic yet discerning, reasonable but always kind, and he had such a way with words. You didn’t think you’d ever find another person who could find the joy hidden beneath all your sadness but Hyeongjun seemed like the one.
Even though you hated work you also hated the one break from work you got during the day. Your lunch break was usually spent sitting alone in your car for forty-five minutes staring off into space and waiting for the day to be done. Whenever you felt down you tended to lose your appetite and that had been the case the past couple of weeks. You knew you should have been hungry and you almost were, you could tell from the way your belly would growl every once in a while. However, your brain and the rest of your body just couldn’t and wouldn’t let you even stomach the thought of food. Sometimes you’d listen to the radio but other times you’d just sit there looking out the window but not really taking any of it in. Sometimes Hyeongjun would message you on your break to ask what you were eating or what you were doing to kill time and you couldn’t bring yourself to come up with a good enough lie, so you would just be honest and tell him ‘nothing’. It nearly baffled you how you could give him almost nothing, you could give him so little to work with and he could so easily keep the conversation going!
You were sure today was going to be another one of those days. You sat at your desk entering some pointless data into a spreadsheet reminding yourself of one of the messages your crush had sent you that morning. You were already halfway through the day, you could do a few hours more right?
Suddenly right before you were about to go on break you heard a series of little taps right above your head. You looked up to see Hyeongjun smiling widely at you, fingers gripping the top of your computer monitor. You looked around shocked for a second making sure that this was real. “What are you doing here?” You asked eyes wide.
“I’m here to hang out with you duh!” Hyeongjun stepped around your desk to grab your bag and sling it around his shoulder. He took your jacket off of the back of your uncomfortable office chair and held it out as if to put it on you.
There were a few odd stares from your coworkers but they didn’t pay the two of you much mind. You stood up and let the boy happily put your jacket sleeves over your arms and give you a quick side hug.
Hyeongjun looked away shyly for a moment. “You seemed so bummed out over the phone yesterday I hope you don’t mind me stopping by.”
You took a moment to think. Was it too early for things like this? Should you be more apprehensive? You felt uneasy for a moment but that feeling quickly dissipated as Hyeongjun flashed you a big toothy grin. “Of course I don’t mind” you said.
Taking the elevator down was awkward in the same way sitting in class next to the person you liked as a kid was awkward. The butterflies in your abdomen danced and your stomach did acrobatic flips and Hyeongjun’s pinky inched closer and closer to yours before wrapping around your hand and holding it gently. He didn’t say a word but the way his lips pressed into a thin line to prevent him from smiling told you all you needed to know. You had no idea how he knew that a little bit of surprise and the slight change in routine was exactly what you needed to uplift your mood. Your outlook had been so bleak as of late and you weren’t sure who you could talk to about how you were feeling, but you were pretty sure the man holding your hand right now was a step in the right direction.
Hyeongjun would never tell you but he had spent countless night just laying in his bed thinking about you and researching ways to help. Even if you didn’t say it out right he didn’t need to be told directly that you weren’t feeling like yourself for a very long time. You were complex and he felt like there was still a lot more of you to unpack and he planned on spending the next forty-five minutes getting you to open up to him whether you wanted to or not!
❥Taeyoung
“I’m baaack!” Taeyoung shouted loudly hoping to get your attention as quickly and abruptly as possible. He thought it was sort of strange the way he didn’t immediately hear a response, but what he thought was even stranger was when he saw no tiny beam of light leaking out from underneath the bedroom door. Usually his sign that you were home was the little ray of light illuminating his feet as he approached your room but now it was just dark. Your shoes were by the door, keys hanging on the hook in the exact same way they were when he had left. Those seemed to be the only signs that you were probably even here. He went to quietly turn the doorknob tiptoeing and slinging his backpack over his shoulder to avoid the noise it made as it dragged on the hardwood floors. Maybe you were napping? It was getting dark outside but it was still only the late afternoon. Normally at this time, you were absorbed into a new book or something like that. However, upon entering the room things really were just as he had left them, you included. Curled up in the same amorphous blob, room pitch black, curtains drawn, phone plugged into the charger and resting on the nightstand. Taeyoung checked his watch to make sure the jet lag hadn’t completely screwed up his sense of time. He looked at the screen of his watch and then back at the giant mass of grey comforter on the bed. “Are you really sleeping it’s only like 4PM…” he said dropping his bag onto the now plush carpet beneath the bed and crawling up beside you.
He sat up on his knees and peeked over the pile of a person next to him and gently shook the covers to see if you were actually there. He could feel your form underneath the blanket but you still didn’t say anything, no release of breath, no snoring, no adorable sleepy mumbles… nothing! “Hey are you in a coma or something” he huffed playfully “you’re normally way more excited to see me!” That’s when he heard a small groan from under the covers, for a second he could have sworn it was the creak of the floorboards but now he was sure it was a noise from you. “I didn’t mean to bother you I just figured I’d come straight here since it’s been a- Oh!”
“Hey” you croaked out, voice hoarse and face mostly buried amid the covers. You turned over slowly to greet your boyfriend “How was the show?” You asked without the usual sense of genuine intrigue in your tone.
“It was… good. How’ve you been?” He said reaching over to move a bit of the comforter to ruffle your hair and pat your head. “You haven’t been like this since I left have you?” He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in glee and then faltering a bit as you looked away and wearily bit your dry lips.
“When did you leave again?”
“You haven’t been like this since I left? Right?” a smidgen of worry entering his tone and then a currant of realization. “Y/N, really?” a mix of familiar disappointment and general unease wafted over your boyfriend as he scooted closer and sighed. “The whole time?”
“I mean I got up to like pee once. I think…”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Taeyoung let a harsh breath escape his nose before running a hand through his already messy black hair. “You could have at least shot me a text...” He said bleakly.
“I didn’t wanna bother you.”
“When could you ever even begin to bother me?”
Your face contorted in shame and you sunk deeper into the soft fabric adorning your body. “I meant to at one point, I really did, but then I just… I don’t know-” You inhaled deeply eyes narrowing, brain struggling to focus on the task at hand, and heart struggling to connect to the conversation.
“You know I hate when you don’t tell me when you’re feeling bad.” He said.
“I just knew you’d probably try and like come home or something and I didn’t really feel like getting up to grab my phone.”
“You didn’t want me to come home?” Taeyoung’s pupils enlarged slightly as he scoffed quietly.
“Of course I wanted you to come home! I just didn’t want you to come home early!”
“So you just laid down here in the dark for like-” He stopped himself as he felt his emotions bubbling over. You two complemented each other in that way but it also made things difficult at times.
You were used to keeping things bottled up inside and Taeyoung was used to forcing you to talk about those things. Taeyoung was used to getting easily worked up and frustrated over the small stuff and you were used to offering some gentle perspective. He had a more aggressive approach to pulling you out of these “slumps” and it could come off as intense but he really just had no other way of showing you how much he cared. Sometimes he didn’t really get it. Sometimes he thought it would be so much easier for you to just get up, to just open the blinds, to just call him. It drove him crazy that he couldn’t be privy to all of the intricate details of your mind. It bothered him that a person so wonderful, so kind, so funny, and interesting, and charismatic, and personable… wasn’t able to share that with everyone all the time, especially with him. More than any bother though, more than frustration, more than annoyance, or anger, or any other negative emotion, you had helped Taeyoung further cultivate his arguably most beautiful trait; his empathy. Sure he was still a little shit stirrer every now and again but at the end of the day, seeing you just as upset over something you couldn’t control, how your mind and body were at odds constantly telling you that the one person who loved you most in this world shouldn’t be bothered with your issues made him just want to help you the best he could.
Taeyoung took a deep breath “Let’s go for a walk while the sun’s still out, how about that.” He suggested. “Also maybe shower first…”
You wanted to object but as you mulled over your answer your boyfriend couldn’t help but reach his hands under the duvet to try and pull you out, tickling you in the process.
“Okay, okay!” You laughed as Taeyoung giggled and continued to try and pull you out. “I can get up myself jeez…” You still weren’t feeling your best but the hopeful look on the man beside you’s face made you want to make him happy.
“Sorry for raising my voice at you I just wanted to make sure you were okay and I freaked out seeing you so-”
You cut him off “it’s okay, I’ll be okay. I’ve just been really tired and stuff. I should have called you.”
“Next time…” Taeyoung said as you sat up and he tackled you into a tight hug. “Maybe we can even lay here together for a couple more minutes, better yet let’s just go on a walk tomorrow I’m tired too…”
❥Seongmin
“Are you gonna be done soon…” Seongmin asked cheek pressed against the doorway and lips pursed in minor annoyance.
More than annoyance however, he felt concern. His face squished against the wooden frame of the entrance to your makeshift office (the desk in the corner or your shared bedroom). Normally this would have been about the fifth time in the hour Seongmin would come over to disturb you while you were working, but this past week and a half had been pretty different. He had seen you like this before, completely absorbed in your work, tired and distracted… but now it felt more like you were purposefully over working yourself. You weren’t just absorbed in work, but completely overwhelmed by it, more than tired you were utterly sleep deprived, you weren’t even really distracted you were just distracted when it came to him. Seongmin was pretty used to having your undivided attention or at the very least viciously demanding it. You found it cute the way he always wanted to be at your side making you laugh or just watching your expressions as you listened to a story he told. It was one of the reasons he loved you so much. Your willingness to include each other in just about anything the other was doing without it even really being necessary was what endeared him to you in the first place. Though, that made it all the more upsetting when you couldn’t or rather wouldn’t include each other in something.
When you had started your relationship Seongmin remembered you telling him you were a difficult partner. That often times it felt like your brain would grow legs and start running faster than you could keep up. That you would become physically and psychologically exhausted out of the blue. He thought it was silly how you would think your own personal struggles would deter him from wanting to be with you, but he quickly realized that even the brightest smile and silliest nudge in the right direction wouldn’t be enough to pull you out of a spiral once it started. It wasn’t impossible, not in the slightest, but Seongmin did really have to try. He had to try and be delicate with his words, careful with his actions, and very intentional about the way he would attempt to help you. He remembered you saying it wasn’t always about just trying to cheer you up but just noticing before things got too bad. Now he was noticing, and remembering the last time he saw you like this.
“Do you want to eat dinner… or like… take a break?” Seongmin asked. Gentle voice ringing throughout the room and eventually echoing through the nearly silent apartment. “You know you have to respond to me eventually.” He huffed stopping before he got frustrated.
All he got was a sort of muffled “sorry” from you in response as you kept clacking away at your computer.
He slowly unstuck his face from the doorframe “is typing more important than me?” approaching slowly and cracking a smile he reached his arms out to not only try and softly grab your shoulders but also to steady himself while sauntering over the sea of loose papers and piles of books strewn about the floor. “I was making a gentle suggestion before but now I’m serious! It’s time to take a break Y/N!” Seongmin rested his hands at either side of you just beside your neck and placed his thumbs right by your shoulder blades. He used his remaining fingers to lift up your chin and straighten out your posture a bit. “You haven’t looked me in the eyes in like two days.” Adjusting your chin more he leaned over to look at you flashing his signature puppy eyes, dark brown and sparkling as you returned his gaze.
You finally looked back at him letting him take in the bags under your eyes, visible even in the dim yellow glow reflected from your beat up desk lamp. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration isn’t it”. You said smiling dryly and stifling a yawn.
“Not really…” His reply had tinge of genuine sadness to it but he tried his best to hide it with another smile.
You spun around in your chair to face him better. “Sorry” you said again, this time a little clearer. “I just… have a lot of work to get done. Once I start it feels like I can’t stop.” You looked off into the distance, avoiding your partner’s eyes as you spoke. “I just feel like if I stop I’ll feel worse and I already have a lot of stuff to do so I just need to keep going, I just-” you furrowed your brows and narrowed your gaze as if trying to remember what it was that had originally glued you to this chair a couple days ago. “-I need to…” you trailed off.
“You need to take a break.” Seongmin said in all seriousness “right now”. He reached down to clasp your hands in his, and prevent you from turning around and working again.
That was enough to bring some clarity to you and remind you of what it felt like to be present again. You had spent so many hours tucked away in this room for seemingly no reason that Seongmin’s plain gaze and soft yet firm grip around your fingers helped to un-numb your senses. A wave of hunger, thirst, fatigue, and an ache in your upper body from sitting in the same position for so long hit you all at once. “Shit I feel awful…” you said to yourself “and kind of stupid, I don’t know why I do that.”
Seongmin leaned down and placed a little kiss on your nose. “You’re not stupid, just silly”. He chuckled waving a hand in front of your face “welcome to earth, it’s good to have you back!”
You smiled in embarrassment and bit your lip anxiously. “It hasn’t really been two days has it?”
Noticing the slight worry in your eyes and the way your fingers started to twitch in his hands, Seongmin decided to forgo the truth. “No! No! It’s only been like… I was exaggerating before it’s been like… Hey! Do you want to order food you must be really hungry!”
“I mean I thought…” your mind was a bit foggy but what he was saying didn’t seem right. Then the mention of ordering food settled into your mind and that did seem right. “Oh yeah, I’m totally starving!”
“Let me go get my phone.” Seongmin ruffled your hair a bit and then rushed out and before you could even blink, he was pulling you out of your chair and onto the bed to sit and browse his food delivery app. The dark circles were still ever-present under your eyes and you looked a bit haggard but as your face scanned his phone, no longer absorbed in work, a genuine smile on your face, light returning to your being he thought you looked really beautiful. Rubbing small circles on your back he reminded himself to remember this for next time, because no matter how awful it seemed there would always be a next time and that was okay…
So I have alot of Ideas would you like me to just send them as a list or as one ask for every scenario
Also you don't have to rush please take your time and If you don't like a scenario feel free to ignore it and don't write it's your blog so it's also your choice <3
Ooh, okay, then you can send them as a list, and I'll start with the ones I like the most. If I get more requests from other or have an idea of my own, I'll add them to the mix too. <3
Hii 82de here I wanted to ask if you have any rules I should know before I send in some asks cuz I don't wanna make you uncomfortable <33
Hi, thank you for asking!! 🥰 I don't really have much rules, aside from the obvious ones like no smut for minors. I do write fluff and reactions for dogyun though, because I consider it more as personality analysis than anything else.
I also like wholesome things, that being said, I'm okay with sensitive topics and most types of smut, but I will end up making it soft and fluffy (intentionally or unintentionally). 😅
He’s internally panicking but still manages to remember what his mom did for him and his siblings, when they got sick.
After he finishes lecturing you about how you need to take better care of yourself, he also tries to remember what he usually did when he had to take care of his little brother.
Absolutely refuses to let you do anything, you’re only allowed to stay in your warm bundle of blankets and rest.
“Where are you going??” “Um, to the toilet?” “Oh... oh okay, you can go there.”
He feels like he can’t do anything to help and he hates that feeling.
He’s also very distraught because he hates seeing you miserable and he can’t even kiss your or give you a hug to make you feel better.
God forbid you ask for a kiss or a hug.
He’d have the biggest crisis of his life because ew, he doesn’t want to catch your cold but he cannot say no to you.
Holds your hand until you fall asleep and kisses your forehead anyway, in hopes that it will help you get well sooner.
THEO:
“Wow, you look like shit.”
Shakes his head and tsks because he told you that you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t dress warmer.
But did you listen to him? No. Of course you didn’t. You never do.
And now what? He has to take care of your sorry ass.
You better be super thankful to him once you get better and repay him for his efforts.
He’s only frustrated because he doesn’t like seeing you in such a bad state, it really hurts his heart.
He also blames himself a tiny bit because maybe he should have been firmer and not let you go out without a jacket.
If your condition is very bad, he will definitely tear up when you can’t see him.
But wipes his tears right away and forces all of your meds and a bowl of soup and a mug of tea down your throat.
Strictly enforces self-care.
Sings and talks to you so you won’t get bored, and because he knows that you like to fall asleep to the sound of his voice.
JIUNG:
Forces you to take all the vitamins in the house before going to the drug store and buying some more, as well as some medicine.
The best person to have around when you’re sick.
Makes you chicken soup and chamomile tea and a healthy meal, depending on what you’re able to swallow.
He knows all the tricks and the traditional folk remedies for colds, runny noses and sore throats.
Half of them come from his grandparents, half of them from various internet searches because obviously, he’s the one who takes care of his members too.
He doesn’t scold you, at least not until you get better, but he looks at you with that disappointed gaze and sighs, and that’s almost worse than a scolding.
He will never let you forget about this, he will bring it up all the time. “Remember when you got sick? You don’t want to repeat that, do you?”
He will literally not touch you.
May or may not comes into your room with a face mask on.
But he still fluffs your pillow up and pulls your blanket over you when it falls, because you were tossing and turning too much.
He also collects and throws out your used tissues then wipes your face with warm water so you won’t feel so terrible in your skin and environment after you wake up.
INTAK:
Continuously on the phone with his mom.
Asks what you feel and conveys everything through the phone because he sure as hell doesn’t know what to do and he doesn’t want to accidentally poison you with the wrong medicine or smth.
This is just a lot of pressure on him, he really wants to take care of you, not make your condition worse somehow.
It’s like he never in his life had a cold, his brain just shuts down.
After feeding you the medicine and making you go to bed, you fall asleep.
He hovers around your bed awkwardly like a lost puppy, not knowing what to do.
He sits down on your desk chair and just... stares at you. Not in a creepy way, he’s just observing if you’re okay so he can jump up and run to your help at the slightest hint of discomfort.
You start to stir and he’s already by your side with a cup of water or tea because he knows your throat must have dried out while you were sleeping.
Refuses to go home even if there’s really nothing he can do for you anymore.
Doesn’t care at all if he’s going to catch your cold or not, if it were up to him, he’d rather it was him being sick instead of you.
He hates seeing you like this so much.
If you don’t let him stay and cuddle you, he’s going to cry. He just needs to be there for you, with you.
SOUL:
Clueless and lost but he definitely won’t overreact.
Half thinks that this is just a cold so you’ll get better after some rest.
But also, when he sees you suffer, his heart is just in pain.
He knows that you’ll be just fine in a couple of days but still, he wishes those days could pass a little faster.
Keeps looking stuff up on the internet to find something he can help you with.
Which was a bad idea because now he’s overreacting.
“This article says, you might be dying... you’re not dying, right?” “...” “Right?” “No, I’m not dying, it’s okay, I just need some rest.”
Thinks that getting sick together would be a good couple bonding activity and it’s up to you to convince him that no, it is not.
Stays a respectful distance away but doesn’t really want to leave you.
He just knows that colds suck and you must be super bored with all that sleeping and resting so he takes your tv over and binge watches something the both of you like on low volume.
That way you can sleep when you want to sleep and watch the show when you wake up.
And he can also bring you whatever you need, help you and take care of you while entertaining himself.
Insists on holding your hand all the time, and the better your condition is, the closer he moves to you.
Before you notice, those few sick days already passed and you're cuddling all healthily again.
JONGSEOB:
First of all, he gives you a scolding through the phone while already putting on his shoes and collecting things you might need.
His heart sinks when he sees you in your bed, weak and surrounded by tissues but then gathers himself together and starts nagging.
Gives you a thousand kind of vitamins, explaining what each of them is for and how it’s good for your body, you should always take them not only when you’re sick. If you take them regularly, you won’t get sick in the first place.
Interrogates you about your symptoms and only eases up when he’s sure that you only have a common cold.
When he sighs in relief, it hits him just how deeply he cares about you and how worried he is.
He then takes on a softer tone and attitude, making sure that you have everything you need and you’re as comfortable as possible.
Runs home for his laptop so he can work from your bedroom.
He practically makes your desk his own and he does his usual things while you sleep.
He regularly checks your fever and makes sure that you stay hydrated too.
He knows that he could just leave you alone, it’s not like you need 24 hours supervision but he kind of doesn’t want to leave.
Finally, he decides to just sleep on the couch and makes you a nice breakfast in the morning.
💌 GROUP: Ateez
💌 GENRE: morning fluff & childish banters
💌 WORDS: 0.9k
💌 SUMMARY: You appreciate the sight of your quietly sleeping boyfriend, your boyfriend appreciates you with kisses.
A/N: my own work reposted, because this is still one of my favorite fics :')
The sun is already high up in the sky by the time you finally feel yourself waking up. The past days have been exhausting enough for the both of you to insert a long sleep-in time in your busy schedules, so that’s what you did.
Slowly opening your eyes and turning your head to the side, you can see Wooyoung still asleep, soft puffs of breath leaving his slightly parted lips. It’s rare that you wake up before him, so you don’t always have the opportunity to observe his serene face, and an interesting thought pops into your head, making you giggle. You feel warmth bubbling up in your heart along with your giggles, making a pleasant, comforting heat spread through your body that you can only recognize as your love for him. With a soft smile on your lips, you free one hand from under the cover and raise it to brush a stray strand of hair out of his face.
He probably wasn’t sleeping deeply anymore, because your touch unintentionally wakes him up and you can see him make a small frown along with a little noise, signaling that he doesn’t want to wake up just yet. You still your movements, giving him a chance to fall back asleep, but maybe because he sensed your fingers in his hair, he ends up opening his eyes.
The first question coming out of his mouth is, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
That’s when you realize that maybe it wasn’t your touch but your stare that disturbed his sleep, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.
"You're just so quiet when you're asleep," you tell him, sharing the thought with the same loving smile that bloomed on your face when it first popped into your mind.
However, the sleepy look he’s giving you is still somewhat confused. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
You consider this for a moment and you suppose that he’s right, usually this would be the timing for a compliment. A compliment that’s just a simple observation, an objective fact that still portrays how much you love him. And even though that’s exactly what you’ve just said, you decide to go the extra mile for him and kindly add, "Yes, of course it’s a compliment, you actually looked angelic for once."
"So you're saying I’m usually not angelic?" Wooyoung asks immediately, looking a lot more awake than a moment ago.
"No, you're usually an annoying little devil," you grin, to which you get a high-pitched, offended scream,
"Excuse me?!"
You cringe a bit at the loud noise so close to your ears and sigh, "See, you just woke up but you're already yelling and arguing with me…"
"You started it!" he yells again, sitting up and getting ready to defend his honor at all costs.
You, on the other hand, are not as energetic to deal with this at the early hour of 11 in the morning, so you do the only thing that you’re able to do to make him quiet with the least effort. You put your hand over his mouth.
"Shush, that doesn't matter, just shut up for a second and enjoy the morning."
Unfortunately, he’s not about to back down so easily and let you win the argument. If you think that just because you have your palm pressed over his mouth, he will stop complaining, you’re wrong. His reaction is immediate, and before you even realize that putting your hand to his mouth can be a double-edged sword, he’s already licked your palm.
You snatch your hand away fast as lighting, and wipe it on his pajama shirt, disgusted. "Ew, now I have your saliva on me…"
"Really…?" He looks at you with a raised brow, questioning if this is really how you want to play, and the next thing you know, he presses you into the mattress as he hovers over you and kisses you all over your face with wet, loud smooches. He makes sure that he leaves no spot unkissed and to make the kiss extra loud when he’s close to your ears for good measure. And even though it’s annoying, his lips tickling your skin and the silliness of the situation makes you unable to stop laughing.
You laugh until your stomach hurts and you're out of breath so you can’t anymore. Wooyoung notices it too and presses one last - this time a soft - kiss to your forehead before he pulls away.
You shake your head fondly when your eyes meet and you link your hands together behind his neck, then sigh, "Can't you just kiss me like a normal person?"
"You want me to kiss you?" His voice is teasing, so is his smile, and you can definitely tell that he expects you to get embarrassed and deny it, so then you would have another round of childish arguments. However, you somehow don’t want to do that right now. Maybe all the laughing cleared out your usual embarrassment to be honest with your feelings, because now you find it easy to look into his eyes and just nod, even if you can feel your face get a little warmer.
"So now it doesn't bother you that you're gonna have my saliva on you, huh?"
You roll your eyes and tug him down until he reaches you. "Just shut up and kiss me."
He lets you pull him in, probably because he wants to kiss you just as much as you do, but he still bites your lip because he wouldn’t want you to have the last word without consequences. You don’t really mind, though. It’s easy to let everything go as your lips move together, and you can feel that no matter how many childish arguments you have with each other, you could never mistake how much you truly love each other.
It’s just another peaceful morning in the relationship between you and Jung Wooyoung.
