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pairing : childhood bestfriend!woonhak x gn!reader (no pronouns used)
summary : woonhak has always had a crush on you. he wants to confess to you with an upcoming christmas party coming up but is too scared that it’ll ruin your relationship you guys have now.
warnings : fluff, pining woonhak (who is also kinda dumb), jaehyun as a friend,
a/n : what happens when you have a crush on your ult bias… make a fic !! (ily woonhak) also stream wishful winter for christmas !
queueing… wishful winter - nct wish, santa baby - laufey, say it back - peach luffe
— not proof read — wc : 1.9k —
woonhak is always a very loud and talkative person. after all, being the youngest in his friend group always has its perks, and it makes woonhak known as the loud, cute one in all of school.
you’re in the same group as him, harboring the same group of friends, but you and woonhak are practically inseparable as you two grew up with eachother since you could remember. the group often associates you both as twins, like siblings from another mother. and of course, woonhak had a big, fat crush on you.
your families have their annual christmas party coming up and it’s the most exciting time of the year for the both of you. in the past years, you guys have exchanged gifts, planned events, and even planned games. one year, woonhak lost and got flour all over his face which is now a memory you always bring up every year.
while at school on the day of the planned party, you walk over to the table where everyone usually meets and immediately gets greeted with the same, adorable smirk woonhak gives.
“y/n!” he yells, not doing so on purpose but forgets they are actually in school.
you playfully push his aside, sitting next to him. “move aside, woonagi” you tease him, it’s the name the other friends gave him but you thought it was such a cute name especially since woonhak was the baby of the group.
woonhak just responds with a sarcastic eye roll before going back to eating his food. jaehyun, one of your friends, looks at both of you with his mouth wide open, “you’re actually joking,” he says, the surprised expression not leaving his face, “woonhak, why do you get mad at us when we call you woonagi, but when y/n does it you literally don’t care” jaehyun exclaims bitterly. it was mostly a joke but jaehyun did want to know why woonhak didn’t react much to you.
you look at jaehyun with his jealous gaze, “woonagi just loves me more than you” you say playfully, sticking your tounge out at jaehyun. another one of your friends, leehan, laughs at jaehyuns defeat. woonhak is left quiet and a light blush now apparent on his cheeks.
you notice the slight redness on woonhak’s face and combine it with the sudden quiet attidude fron the usually-loud woonhak you know to come to the conclusion to one thing. he’s sick.
it’s not weird to be sick at this time, especially since it’s the winter time but either way, you place a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. it’s slightly hotter than normal seeing more red appear on his face.
in woonhak’s mind he’s trying to battle breaking all together. his heart racing and mind going everywhere and nowhere at the same time from you taking care of him.
you sweep some stray hairs out of his bangs, “take care of yourself, you look like you just woke up” you laugh before finishing up your food.
as if woonhak could blush more, he looked very red. it was a good thing you were focused on your food and not on him or else the embarassment would be too much to handle. eventually, he’s able to calm down and lunchtime came to an end everyone starts parting ways to their final classes.
before either of you leave, you nudge woonhak once again. “i’ll see you later?” you ask. he looks confused. the dots aren’t connecting in his mind while looking at you. you laugh at his forgetful state right now, “the christmas party?” you remind him. “oh yeah” he remembers, he scratches the back of his head from ebarassment. “jeez woonagi, you’re so clueless sometimes, good thing you have me” you giggle as you walk off to your class.
woonhak stands there a moment, heart racing once again. in fact, literally anything you would do would make it race, and he didn’t know what to do or how to react. of course he wants to tell you but isn’t sure if you would like him back and is scared to ruin the close bond you guys have already.
after school ends, woonhak heads home, hoping to sort out his feelings before meeting up with you again before the party. he goes to the one person he knows, or thinks that he knows, some good dating advice. his hyung, myung jaehyun.
—
now woonhak is standing in front of jaehyun’s home as the night shrouded him in darkness. he was suited in the cute black bubble jacket you got him last christmas which is also matching with yours. woonhak knocks on the door of jaehyun, desperate for any advice his hyung can provide.
jaehyun answers the door. he’s wearing some cute christmas pyjamas. he’s wiping his eye, looking like he just woke up from a nap. “ever heard of texting, woonhak?” he asks, somewhat annoyed that he was disturbed from his nap but shortly realizes that it’s the youngest so he lets it pass.
“i called you so many times, hyung” he says. woonhak lets himself in, going past the sleepy jaehyun who is checking his call receipts to see that woonhak did, indeed, call him exactly 7 times. “jesus i guess i’m a deep sleeper” jaehyun comments quietly to himself.
“why are you here, woonagi?” jaehyun asks while trying to tease the young boy, “you’re going to be late for your christmas party with y/n” he continues. he boils some hot water for hot chocolate for woonhak.
“quit it with the name, hyung” woonhak scoffs, clearly annoyed. “i’m here to ask you about something”
jaehyun looks slightly worried, “you never come to me for anything, i’m kinda scared.” he pours out the hot chocolate and gives it to the young boy. “you’re not dying. are you?” he jokes lightly.
woonhak accepts the hot cup, using it to warm his hands, “no, idiot. it’s about y/n” woonhak confesses.
jaehyun’s serious expression immediately falters and gets replaced with one of teasing. “ohh, i knew it! what did they do this time? smile at you? breathe in your direction?” jaehyun says, smile getting wider and voice getting more teasing every question.
“can you be seious for once?” woonhak sighs, tired of all the teasing he’s being bombarded with. he sounds more serious, “listen, i don’t know if they like me or are just being friendly…” woonhak says, just speaking his mind out, sipping the hot chocolate.
the hyung rolls his eyes, looking done with the younger’s lovesick problems. “okay but why does it matter? just keep the attention dude, you’re lucky someone keeps clinging onto you.” jaehyun replies unseriously, that playful smirk making its way back to his face.
“that’s not helpful!” woonhak exclaims, playing a mini tantrum. “ugh, i knew i should’ve gome to riwoo hyung” he whispers to himself but jaehyun overhears.
“okay okay fine, keep going. what things do they do?” jaehyun asks, finally takes it semi-seriously and get information from woonhak.
and now woonhak has a mini clump in his throat as even just thinking about you makes him jumble his words, “well they’ll lean on me, have lingering touches, and like gets close when we talk. but when i ask they’re like ‘im just like this with everyone’” woonhak admits, shoulders giving out as he slouches slightly into the chair.
“well maybe they are like that with everyone” jaehyun says, adding some emphasis on ‘are’, wanting to help woonhak see everything clearly, but not giving the boy the answer right away.
“that’s exactly what im afraid of!” woonhak exclaims, “but what if they aren’t… what if im mising my chance?” woonhak asks his hyung, desperate for an answer.
“then don’t miss it” jaehyun answers.
woonhak looks at his hyung, confused, “what does that even mean?”
jaehyung places his palm onto his face, dissappointed at how dumb woonhak is, “i mean, just go for it. or dont. either way, you’ll figure it out”
woonhak checks the time and sees that he has to leave to go to the party. he gets up from his chair, still confused, “what do i even bother asking you?”
“my question exactly. well let me know if they reject you so. i can roast you for it, woonagi” jaehyun giggles as he enjoys teasing the youngest.
woonhak walks out of the door after returning the hot chocolate, “i hate you, hyung” woonhak pouts with an angry face as he walks off.
“no you don’t! good luck loverboy!” jaehyun yells into the empty neighborhood before closing the door.
—
woonhak walks into the house which is decorated in twinkling lights. sounds of a cackling fireplace echo into his ears and the smell of freshly baked cookies goes around the room. families gather, chatting now also stacks with the sounds.
he goes over to the more quiet corner of the party, away from the adults to avoid any awkward conversations. you’re also there, sitting by the christmas tree and he decides to sit next to you.
“it’s so pretty this year. the lights, the tree… everything feels extra magical, doesn’t it?” you comment, gazing at the tree, beautifully decorated with many different kinds of ornaments from each family that got together.
woonhak leans back to try and make it look like he was playing it cool. “yeah, i guess. or maybe it's just because you're here" he says lightly, also focused on the tree that is in front of the both of you.
you blink, registering the words woonhak said. your eyes widen slightly as your gaze moves over to the boy. "what was that?"
he realizes what he says and his eyes widen as well. "uh. i mean, everone's here! like, the whole family and stuff. that's what it makes it magical," woonhak tries to play it off.
you tilt your head, suspicious but amused at woonhak's attempt at recovery. "mhm. sure, woonhak."
you both fall into a comfortable silence, watching the lights twinkle together on the tree, admiring the time you guys have together. woonhak's heart starts to race as he steals a glance at you, who is just quietly smiling at the tree.
"you've been acting weird lately. is something on your mind?" you ask, noticing a difference in woonhak's behavior recently.
woonhak starts choking on his own saliva, "what? no! weird? me? i'm always like this."
you laugh softly at his clumsiness, "okay, if you say so. woonagi" you tease the boy. your laughter fades as you suddenly lean in a little closer. "but, seriously. you know you can tell me anything, right? we've known each other since forever ago." you remind him, trying to comfort him through his personal problem.
woonhak's concentration slips, especially with you moving closer to him, "i like you."
a heavy silence falls between you both, woonhak freezing and woonhak turning a familiar tone of red.
you simply blink in surprise, still registering the situation. "wait what?"
woonhak starts to stammer his words, trying to quickly formulate sentences through the embarrassment he's feeling, "i-i didn't mean to say that! i mean, i did, but not like this!" he covers his face with his hands. "forget i even said anything." he says as he gets up.
you grab onto his arm, smiling softly. "woonhak, i think you're so cute when you're flustered. and, for the record, i like you too.
"wait really?" he makes sure, wanting to make sure he's not hearing anything wrong.
you simply nod, teasingly, of course. "yeah. but you're going to have to make it up to me for confessing to me like that. where's the grand romantic gesture?" you nudge him gently.
woonhak laughs nervously but is finally relaxing, "give me a break. i'm not exactly smooth under pressure."
Falling in love was never the plan when your friend San arranged for an android named Wooyoung to care for you in your final days.
453 words, Content note: all tumblr using ages, gender neutral reader, illness leading to the death of the reader, they/them pronouns used for the reader
~
San was your friend who suggested getting the android aide after your memory loss grew worse. Combined with the degenerative disease that made your limbs difficult to manage, San had recommended assistance in the form of Wooyoung. “He will be your companion and tend to your needs.”
Wooyoung's manufacture impressed you. His builders had chosen to make him incredibly attractive, which you supposed made him more welcome in a household, far more than a robot aide of bare metal would be. His skin was warm to the touch and breathing added to the realism. Someone even made the completely unnecessary but pleasant aesthetic choice to place beauty marks on his lower lip and below an eye.
As he saw to making you comfortable, you could swear there was true emotion behind Wooyoung's caring words, especially when you expressed distress. At the end of the day he sometimes appeared as tired as if he were a real person. It had been another one of those difficult days. Wooyoung had been at your bedside for hours. Concerned, San urged him to eat something, but Wooyoung waved him off.
Your thinking was getting fuzzy. You could not recall how long it had been since you yourself last ate, or what it might have been. Strangely, you were not hungry though. The only sensation you were aware of was that of Wooyoung gently stroking your hair. His constant presence brought you a sense of peace. With the full understanding it could only be one sided, you began to recognize that you had fallen in love with your android. As life slipped away, your final words were, “I love you, Wooyoung.”
“That time was different, San. There was life in their eyes.” Breaking into sobs, Wooyoung was held by San as he fell apart. Eventually he stilled and spoke through sniffles. “I really thought we had perfected our android.” Wooyoung's sigh was heavy, “You warned me not to get attached. I am going to need a while before we restart them after the memory wipe.”
San knew his friend was not just speaking of the time it would take to reprogram you. Wooyoung seemed truly affected by the loss of the unique personality from the most recent test of his creation. San decided to wait a few days at least to suggest dropping the ruse that Wooyoung was an android to ease you into feeling comfortable with the idea that some people were synthetic, yourself among them. Still, progress was being made. In time the two scientists would perfect their invention, but to the man who loved you back, no successor ever came close to the cherished memory of the short-lived version of you who had loved Wooyoung.
omg the POTS recognition i feel seen 😭 as a chan bias i feel like he'd be the type to help you overcome it/work on stamina (POTS can go away or lessen with a healthy lifestyle and exercise). for ex, he'd be down to chill if you're fatigued but also ready to push u (gently) in the gym because he knows you'll feel better after
🩸🩺 STEADY 🩺🩸
Day 2 – Chantober 2025
"You’re stronger than you think, baby. And we’re gonna keep building it.”
Includes: gn!reader (yay!), aftercare, riding gone wrong, soft dom chris, praise and reassurance, unprotected, smut (18+)
W/c: 800
As someone who has dysautomnia and passes out regularly, same.
You’re already trembling by the time he pulls out.
Thighs quivering. Lungs shallow. Your pulse is fluttering under your skin like a trapped bird.
And Chris notices instantly.
He doesn’t even let go. He’s still holding your hips, forehead resting against your sternum, breath heavy against your damp chest. But his voice is low, deep, quiet now as he slides into that place only he gets to touch.
“Hey. Don’t move. Just breathe.”
You try, but it’s shaky. Dizzy.
He shifts back slowly, one hand slipping behind your head, the other finding the dip of your spine like it’s muscle memory.
You blink up at him, dazed.
“I’m okay,” you whisper, even though your legs are still splayed open and trembling, even though your heart’s in your throat. “Just… need a sec.”
He nods. Doesn’t argue. But you feel the change in him immediately. The pivot.
This was supposed to be celebratory. You’d told him you wanted to try on top for the first time and wanted to build stamina, like he always says. You wanted to prove to yourself you could do it without your pulse spiralling or your chest collapsing.
And you had done it. You’d taken him slow, moved on your own, let yourself feel the burn in your thighs and the weight in your lungs and the stretch between your legs. He’d kept his hands on your hips, eyes locked on your face, every single breath of his laced with awe and filth and worship.
But now?
Now you’re sinking. Adrenaline crashing. Breath catching. Your nervous system dropping down hard.
And Chris, even fucked-out and panting, doesn’t miss a thing.
He wraps both arms around you. Gathers you like you weigh nothing. Lays you down flat on your back and follows by pressing his chest to yours, anchoring you under him without a word.
He doesn't say you did good.
Doesn’t say I’m proud of you.
You already know. You felt it when he moaned your name with that wrecked little catch in his throat.
But he does say this:
“Heart’s still goin’ fast. That normal for you?”
You nod into the pillow, blinking up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Happens after I push. Doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”
He exhales hard. Nuzzles into your neck.
“Still wanna get you back down slow, though. You’re clammy.”
You laugh softly, and he smiles into your skin.
“I’ve got a cold bottle in the fridge. You want me to grab it?”
You hum. “If I move I’ll pass out.”
“Okay. Then I’ll move.”
He shifts off you gently, tugs the blankets up your hips. You’re bare, and wrecked, and still open with his cum leaking down your thigh, but he doesn’t rush. Doesn’t get awkward. He kisses the inside of your knee before standing, still hard, still flushed, but focused entirely on you.
You hear the fridge open. The hiss of a water bottle. The soft clink of ice cubes.
He’s back in a minute, pressing the cool plastic against your cheek.
You sigh. Let your eyes close.
“There you are,” he murmurs. “Still here.”
“Barely,” you whisper.
But you smile when he brushes your hair back.
He kneels beside the bed. One hand pressing the bottle to your lips, the other stroking your hip.
“I know you hate when it hits like that after,” he says. “But you didn’t freeze up this time. You stayed in it. You let yourself feel.”
You take a sip. Swallow carefully. “I wanted to.”
He leans in. Kisses the corner of your mouth.
“You’re stronger than you think, baby. And we’re gonna keep building it. Slow. Sexy. Sacred. You’ll never have to do it alone.”
You breathe in deep, and this time, it doesn’t catch.
Summary: What a gross bakery name you thought as you entered, too hungry to turn down the promise of food. Allosexuals were getting more and more brazen by the day but succubi were worse, even if they were ace. And somehow you were helping that ace succubus now.
Pairings: Seokjin (BTS) x Reader
Rating: SFW (although I ask that because of the number of sexual jokes and comments, please just 18+ people read)
🤍 [ Wedding ] - A romantic kiss shared during a wedding ceremony
Okay, anon, first of all, I’m thrilled you wanted a Mingyu drabble from me, thank you. Second, I know that I stretched the word “ceremony” here, but just go with it. I couldn’t help it, that’s where the prompt took me! Third, I once again failed to keep this to a short drabble 🤷♀️ As if we didn't know I was a wordy bitch. I hope you enjoy! 💕
Pairing: Mingyu x Reader (no agab)
Genre: fluff, established relationship, Wedding!AU
Rating: T
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: mingyu is referred to as 'husband' but reader is not given any pronouns or gendered in any way, kissing, mentions of drinking, it's very soft and sweet because i think about husband!mingyu and i just melt, special guest appearances by Seokmin and Seungkwan
Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don't own svt - they just inspire me
**********
Halfway through your wedding reception, you escape.
The cake has been cut and the dance floor is filled with your drunk friends and even drunker relatives. The entire evening flew by like the birdseed your guests pelted you and Mingyu with when you walked hand-in-hand down the aisle. You’d love a minute to stop and soak it all in - you and Mingyu are married. You’re his and he’s yours, until death do you part.
But you don’t get so much as a second to breathe as yet another one of his relatives comes up to congratulate you and offer some terrible marriage advice. If you took a shot every time you heard “Don’t go to bed angry,” tonight, your body would be about 60% vodka by now. Instead, you’re too sober for your own comfort as you pretend to laugh at another goofy joke.
Mingyu, standing a few feet away where two of your great aunts have cornered him to ask about his thoughts on giving them some great-great-grandnieces, laughs harder, louder, and faker than you do, audible even the combined chaos of a live band and your family at an open bar event. You catch his eye and raise your eyebrows, hoping that will communicate the ‘take it down a notch’ message that fails to send telepathically.
He grins back, shrugging a little. He can’t help it if he’s too charming. It’s just how he is, how he’s always been, ever since your family moved in next door to his when you were in grade school. He was your first friend in town, drawing you in with his bright smile, and soon the two of you were inseparable.
Mingyu’s attention is drawn to his smartwatch and his grin widens. He says something to your aunts to excuse himself to join you, greeting his uncle with a bow. Thankfully, said uncle runs out of advice not long after that, and you turn to Mingyu with a sigh.
“I need a drink. And some more cake.”
Mingyu takes your hand in his and squeezes sympathetically. “I could use a break too. Why did we invite so many people?”
“We didn’t. They did.”
Your parents and his parents became friends almost as quickly as you and Mingyu did. It was common for your families to hang out, even vacationing together occasionally. The Kims became a second family to you, and yours was the same to him. You and Mingyu grew around each other, like trees with entangling limbs. It wasn’t long before love took root.
It only made sense to get married in his backyard, then have the reception in your parents’ yard. And they were only too happy to host. Which shows in the size of the ceremony and the bounty of the reception. You’re thankful, but you hadn’t realized just how much time you would be spending with everyone other than your husband tonight.
“Oh, right.”
“I’m gonna hit the bar before anyone stops me. Do you want a drink?”
“Actually, I’ve got a better idea.” He nods toward the far side of the yard. “Check it out.”
Two of Mingyu’s groomsmen, Seokmin and Seungkwan, have taken the tiny stage in your parents’ backyard with the band your parents hired to play. As they launch into some old jazzy pop standard, a crowd grows on the dance floor. You notice that the front row is all of your aunts as well as your mother and your now mother-in-law. That tracks - Mingyu’s college choir friends were always catnip to ladies of a certain age.
“You know I love your old choir setlists as much as the next noona, but what exactly are Seok and Kwan doing?”
“Creating a diversion at my request.” Mingyu squeezes your hand again. “Wanna get out of here?”
Mingyu’s the one who convinced you to sneak out the first time. There’s a playground in your neighborhood, where the two of you would run around playing games and swing on the swing set. One summer night, when you were on the cusp of being a teenager, he talked you into climbing out your window a few hours after bedtime and going there with him.
As the two of you navigated high school and fell into different friend circles, you still met at the playground at night. Playing games turned into talking, venting and confiding in one another, and the playground became your safe haven.
Thanks to Mingyu’s friends, who have the crowd singing along at this point, no one notices when you slip around the side of the house and out onto the street. Mingyu leads you by the hand most of the way, just like he did that first night, after you told him you didn’t realize it would be so dark outside and got a little spooked by some shadows.
It’s been years now since you’ve been to the playground. The equipment looks the same but the wood chips that scraped the fuck out of your knees as a kid have been replaced by much softer sand everywhere. You both peel off your shoes.
Then you run for the swings. Mingyu beats you, like he always did, grabbing a swing and launching himself. You take the saddle next to him and push off, and soon you’re swinging into the sky by his side. The cooling evening air fills with your laughter, and for a moment you’re kids again, nothing holding you down but gravity, which you fight against with every gleeful kick, every joyful giggle.
“I forgot how much fun this is. We should get a swing set.” Mingyu pumps his legs harder, flying faster than you. Your outfit isn’t really ideal for this, so you sway gently and watch him with open admiration, laughing as he whoops.
“For our studio apartment?”
“No, for our future.”
Your future. You come to a complete stop as a thrill runs through you. You can’t wait to go there with him. Mingyu slows his pace as he looks at you, and you smile back.
“Maybe we wait until we have a house first.”
“I guess that makes sense.” He sighs, suddenly looking serious. “But don’t think I’m gonna forget.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You throw your weight to the side, shifting your momentum so you start to sway towards Mingyu, and lightly bounce off him as your swings collide, making him laugh.
“I feel like we haven’t had a second alone together since we said ‘I do.’”
“Well, good news. You get all of my seconds from now. All my minutes, hours, days to years,” you say, reaching out to run your thumb over your fiancé - no, your husband’s cheek. “Remember when we signed that piece of paper earlier? That was the deal.”
He hums, grabbing your hand to stop you from swinging away. “Then I’d like about thirty seconds now, please,” he states, and tips his mouth towards yours.
Mingyu has kissed you many times today - at the ceremony, during your first dance, every time one of your guests clinked their silverware against their glasses to toast to the newlyweds. But this kiss is different. It’s tender, and infinitely fond, and leaves his warmth lingering on your lips long after he’s pulled away.
“I think that was only about ten,” you protest with a pout.
“I apologize, my love,” Mingyu laughs, brushing a kiss over your jawline before his mouth meets yours again, more firmly than before. The two of you kiss and kiss and kiss, and you do your best to ignore the persistent nagging knowledge that you are meant to be somewhere else right now.
But once the two of you part, you feel obligated to say it. “We should probably get back to the party before anyone notices we’re gone.”
“Why? What are they gonna do, ground us?” Mingyu grins, tugging on the chain of your swing again. He cups your face for another kiss, short but no less sweet. “We got married today,” he reminds you, a note of awe lacing his voice.
“We did,” you agree, digging your feet into the sand so you can lean against your husband. He wraps an arm around you to keep you from swinging away. Your heart is awash with every emotion right now - joy, wonder, pride - but mostly love. So much love.
“Let’s just sit here a minute. Okay?”
You nod. “Yeah. They can wait.” He holds you close again, and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you for this, by the way.”
“Of course,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “I promise to always sneak you out of stressful situations, so we can be alone in peace.”
“The ceremony was hours ago. It's a little late for another vow now,” you laugh, but Mingyu shakes his head.
“Never too late to make a promise, and keep it.”
You raise your head, and when Mingyu looks at you, you kiss him, your lips forming a solemn vow of your own, to cherish every promise he keeps.
Until death do you part.
***********
If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help itget seen by other readers. 💕
The life of a top designer is stressful in itself how much will change when you find 2 glowing eyes peering back at you from your yard.
Poly!Skz x Tall!Nonbinary!Reader
Series Warnings: mention of abuse, hybrid au, omegaverse themes, strong language, suggestive topics and themes (see individual chapters for specific warnings)
Chapter warnings: Felix is uncounsious, mentions of stress, anxiety, slight angst, mention of someone potentially dying (they dont), Reader uses they/them adressed using Mx.
tags: boyfriend wooyoung! wooyoung wanting to get married, established relationship
rating: for all
“Can I get married to you?” Wooyoung said with the toss of his potatoes which eventually made its way into his mouth. Meanwhile, the food that you just swallowed seemed to ridge itself back up.
“What?” you managed to say as you tried to captivate and understand the tone and seriousness of his words. It was 9 in the morning and the two of you were barely on the first plate of pancakes. Wooyoung perched up his round gradient glasses and repeated himself again, this time looking at you dead in the eye. “I said, could I get married to you?
“What’s with this all of a sudden. Is there something going on?” you asked. You dropped your knife to the placemat and sat there with your fingers laced together.
Wooyoung continued eating, picking at his food to gather it up. “No not much. I just wanted to ask you if I could marry you”. It was a plain old day for the two of you. Waking up on a Saturday morning, making breakfast, and enjoying the rest of the afternoon with coffee was the new norm. And Wooyoung realized that this was what being married would be like.
He took a moment to himself while you went out of your bed to make breakfast for the two of you. He was tired from the workload yesterday, so you decided it was your turn to make him breakfast. You told him not to move a finger and asked him to just watch you and he realized it then.
“Why the rush? We have so much time to plan, to think about all this Wooyoung.” You answered him with grace although you were a bit flustered at the moment. You just needed time to process it.
His plate seemed to clear up as he took in each bite of his pancake one by one. He took a moment to think and then cleared up his throat. “You know, I’ve been having this feeling for a while now and at first it was just a small but…” he continued with a few more pokes at his food, “I realized today that… that you’re the only person I could spend doing absolutely nothing.” He looked up at you, fork still in place.
Nothing? You thought to yourself. But before you could express your puzzlement of nothing, he adds, “I could sit with you on the couch just drinking coffee for hours and not be bored. I could watch you make breakfast like today, or sit and just listen to your day and just look at you.” He did as he said and slowly glid his head up to look at you.
“And I’m scared I might be taking this for granted. That all of this could be for a second of my life and you could be gone in an instant. So, before any of that happens, I think I need to marry you.” Wooyoung’s eyes gazed at you with worry but came back with assurance as he confessed his troubles. His confession made sense to you.
You loved doing absolutely nothing with him and you understood his worry of losing these moments with you because you thought of that too. Before you could answer him, Wooyoung set down the fork and asked once again.
gav how do you develop the courage to boldly write about platonic cuddling and hand holding and hugging and so on in a world that is so romance oriented. I want to write about a friend’s character getting held and loved by all of their friends not just their romantic interest but I’m so afraid of people reading it romantically when it’s not…
OH HO HO A THING I AM VERY PASSIONATE ABOUT
okay we're gonna have a gav's guide to writing about platonic physical intimacy in this hell world and not getting too psyched out to stick the landing in the process
right up top, the unfortunate answer is there is no magic bullet. i am constantly haunted by the awareness that people are going to forcibly redefine the things i have written about as romantic no matter what i do, and this is an awareness that, depending on the day, i find anything from annoying to incredibly painful and upsetting. but given that i am a romance repulsed aromantic who finds immense value and meaning in writing about intimacy, especially physical and emotional intimacy, i have learned to do so without letting that awareness ruin it for me or keep me from doing what's important to me.
i used to censor myself a lot more, and i am still unlearning that, as well as unlearning what ive termed 'shadowboxing romance' in my writing (i.e. writing about platonic relationships and intimacy in a way as to specifically deny or combat the belief that they are romantic rather than just letting them exist in their own right. i am trying to stop doing that. i refuse to give romance any quarter in my writing, including by allowing the idea to carry water that a relationship that is intimate/caring/committed/devoted/intense/etc is romantic until proven otherwise). it's a process and that process is continuing! but i think i've found some equilibrium in some ways.
so! some specific pieces of advice/things that work for or help me:
honestly this is gonna be kind of insulting to say probably but literally just write what you want. it's a lot harder than it sounds. there's a reason your instincts and your familiarity with the characters/dynamics you're writing and the story you're telling are saying you want x to happen, so maybe just. let x happen? as an example i had a scene in a fic i was working on where character A tripped and character B caught them before they could fall. my first instinct was to have a detail where A's clothing slipped a bit in the process and B brushed their bare skin and this was Significant. but bc the relationship is platonic i didn't want it to seem weird and like i was implying something or hinting at something with that. so i almost took it out, rewrote the detail as B's thumb getting caught in a twist of A's shirt. but i didn't. because a lot of that story is specifically ABOUT intimacy and touch and skin contact and navigating that in the context of a platonic (in this case burgeoning queerplatonic) relationship. so that first instinct was right, i just had to like. talk myself back into it after initially balking.
remind yourself that platonic relationships are not blank slates onto which romance is invited to be projected, even though fandom treats them that way. platonic relationships are just as intentional and fully realized and specific and worthwhile in their depiction as romantic relationships are, and they get to take up that space too.
remember that if people get weird about it, that is a them problem. they are the ones making it weird. if they decide to force romance into a relationship that is not indicated that way, that's on them, and you can't be blamed for it.
i often include a specific disclaimer about a dynamic i am particularly worried about, or whenever this anxiety gets too strong for me and starts upsetting me. i will put in the beginning notes of a fic 'as a reminder this is a gen fic/my depiction of the relationship between A and B is platonic! please respect that' or something along those lines. if someone ignores that, i block without hesitation, or i respond with 'this is a weird thing to say to someone who made it very clear this is a gen fic/platonic relationship'. i have spent a lot of time trying to teach myself that i get to have boundaries about this. but it is weird and shitty for people to make ship commentary on non-ship fanwork and i wish that was a more widely understood/accepted thing.
remember, above all, that this is important to you for one reason or another, and also it's probably important to other people too. one of the things that gives me the most courage and determination in writing about things the way that i do, especially relationships, is the number of times people have expressed to me that this is meaningful to them, too. that the way i write about relationships, intimacy, affection, connection, longing, touch, etc, is very valuable and important and even healing for them to see in a platonic context. i won't lie, people have said some weird shit to me about the way i write. they have gotten aggressive and mean and arophobic etc at me. that's one of the tough things about this. i have ocd but, unlike an anon who yelled at me about this the other day would have you believe, it's not solely mental illness that has me really anxious about this. people do say and do the shit i'm afraid of and wanting to avoid when i write about platonic intimacy. but that is far, far outweighed by the people who have been lovely and extremely moved by what i've written, and that matters so much more to me.
i wish you and anyone else who wants to do this all the best!! i am always working on making myself more comfortable writing the way that i do about platonic relationships because it's important to me, and i refuse to let a combination of like... trauma and ocd and The World And Fandom Being How It Is take that from me. know that i'm cheering you on!!
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pairing: streamer!yunho x gn!reader.
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 1039 words.
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ genre: angst + fluff.
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ warnings: mild angst, emotional neglect (unintentional), feelings of being left behind, fluff at the end.
You were there before the follower goals, and fancy mic setup. Back when Yunho streamed from a wobbly IKEA desk and his only viewers were you and that one random bot that kept posting shady links.
Back then, his face would light up when he saw your name in chat.
You modded his streams before he even asked. Built his discord server from scratch. Stayed up past midnight helping him troubleshoot lag while playing Valorant. You even tolerated the scream fest during Lethal Company session with San, Mingi, and Wooyoung―all chaos, max volume, all the time.
And when things took off―when Twitch clipped him into the algorithm and the chat exploded with new fans, you celebrated with him. You were proud. You really were.
But you also started feeling... invisible.
It started small. A joke you made in chat went ignored. Then another. Then another.
You chalked it up, at first. That's what growing meant―more people, more chaos. But then he stopped replying to your DMs. Took hours to answer simple messages. And one day, you noticed your mod label was gone. No explanation. No "thanks for everything." Nothing at all.
You watched one of his streams that night, lurking, your name is grey in a sea of neon usernames. Someone made a crude joke. You called it out. Yunho didn't even notice, until a stranger timed you out.
That was the last stream you watched live.
You muted the server. Turned off notifications. Closed the tab. He never reaches out. Not once.
Months passed.
One night, you're scrolling through your phone, brain on autopilot, when you see his name. Yunho is live: Unpacking + chatting. You shouldn't care. You don't.
But you click.
He's streaming Unpacking, of all things. Soft music, quiet atmosphere, just him and the sound of cardboard boxes being emptied on screen. There's no Wooyoung yelling in the background, no San whining about being scared―just Yunho. Focused. A little tired. His laugh softer tonight.
You shouldn't message him.
But your fingers move anyway, finding his name in your message app.
Are you okay?
You send it. Regret it instantly. Consider deleting it, but then―
yunho: wait
yunho: wait wait wait
yunho: is this real??
yunho: y/n... i thought u blocked me or smth
You stare at the screen, looking at his stream while his attention turns to his phone.
you: figured you wouldn't notice either way
yunho: ...
yunho: okay. i deserve that.
yunho: i miss you. a lot.
You don't reply right away, and you close the Twitch app.
The next day, he sends you a message privately in discord.
yunho: can we talk?
You call. It's weird, at first. The silence between you used to be comfortable, easy. Now it's cautious. Hesitant.
But he tries.
"I don't know when I started messing it up," he says, voice quiet. "I think... I just got caught up in everything. I didn't mean to shut you out."
You shrug, even though he can't see you. "You kind of did, though."
"I know. I just... didn't want you to feel like you had to carry my stuff forever. You helped me so much and I kept thinking, maybe you deserved to just... live your life. Not babysit my stream."
You snort. "You took away my mod role without saying a word. The least you can do is tell me."
He winces. "Yeah. That was stupid."
"You think?"
He laughs. It's small, and it is obvious that he is nervous.
"Let me fix it," he says. "Please."
It's not instant. It's not perfect.
But you start showing up again. Not as a mod, but just as his friend.
He messages you in the middle of the night about weird games you'd both like. Sends you dumb voices notes of Mingi farting on call. You hop into discord during late-night gaming, and he still screams in panic when he gets chased in scary games, but now, he screams your name too.
And one night, he messages:
yunho: do you want to do a stream together soon?
you: what would we even play?
yunho: idc. minecraft? stardew? anything. i just want to hang out with you on stream.
You agree, and the next night, it's Minecraft night.
The stream starts slow, chill lo-fi music playing in the background. Yunho decides to do a member only stream, which means the chat is smaller, cozier. The mods keep it clean. No chaos whatsoever.
"Special guest tonight, their name is Y/N" Yunho says, grinning. "My oldest friend. Like actual old. We've known each other since middle school."
You laugh. "You're few months older than me."
Chat, on the other hand, explodes with excitement:
xXxgamerraccoon12: brooo you can see yunho smiling like an idiot
fluffyhorsie: their voice sounds so soothing!! i love them already!!
bananapie481: we need more cozy game with y/n!!
You two fish, farm, fight monsters, collect materials. It's easy.
Halfway through the stream, you forget the camera's even on.
"You're different when it's just us," you say quietly.
Yunho hums. "Different how?"
"Less loud, less performative. More... you."
He doesn't say anything right away, just smiling while mining some woods for their house. Then, softly. "That's because you bring out the parts of me I actually like."
Your chest tightens.
"You know I was really scared," he adds. "That you'd never message me again. That I lost you for good."
You exhale. "You almost did."
"I know."
Silence.
Then, your character walks over and gifts his character a flower.
It's just pixels, but Yunho makes a sound that's a little too real.
"What?"
"What do you mean what? Maybe I just like giving you flowers."
His voice is barely a whisper. "God, I missed you so much."
The stream ends with your character standing next to his inside your finish small cozy wooden house.
Chat's spamming hearts. Fan edit already being posted. People are begging for another duo stream.
Once he turns off his stream, he says, "Don't log off yet."
Look for the K-pop reader insert fic you want at DiverseInsertKNet with links organized by category below. Groups organized by names listed alphabetically can be found here.
Wooyoung can’t help but smile everytime he sees you, you’re so delicate to him, he can’t help but want to protect you in a way. He’s quick to defend you if anyone says slick shit even if it’s a little bit mean, “Watch your mouth about MY boyfriend” as he pouts defensively, there’s no room for anyone disrespecting you if he’s there.
He knows you’re too shy and a bit embarrassed to correct anyone who may use the wrong name or misgender you, so when he knows it’s safe he’s quick to correct them, smiling as they finally refer to you the correct way. He notices the look in your eyes, you jump excitedly finally getting a binder, you take it out of the package and put it on, yet it doesn’t quite feel right, the compression doesn’t work since your chest is larger and you can’t help but tremble as you try to hold back tears noticing this, your body causing dysphoria comes in waves, but whenever the wave comes it’s often enough to knock you down. However these waves have been handled with your boyfriend Wooyoung, he’s quick to get behind you, resting his hands on your cute tummy, “Hey baby, it’s okay, not your fault” he reassures you while rubbing soothing patterns on your belly, he slips the binder off you and just lets you rest in his arms as long as you need to. The dysphoria slowly passes as he praises you endlessly, reaffirming you’re his boyfriend, you’re handsome, you’re his beautiful boy and you have the hottest masculine body. He reminds you that your roundness isn’t a flaw, he sees it as the cutest thing ever, and resting on you feels like heaven, you’re so soft to him. He does lots of research on various platforms to try and learn more about gender dysphoria and being trans, he wants to do whatever he can to help you, hiding the fact that he has a couple piggy banks to one day surprise you with top surgery. Until then he will continue to be your supportive, pouty, clingy boyfriend and promises to always be as long as you promise too. Of course he makes you lock pinkies or “The promise wouldn’t be valid”.
synopsis: minho gets overly dramatic about you not noticing his haircut, drawing out the teasing until you guess right.
wc: 823
(based on his silly bbl messages lol)
The afternoon was peaceful, yet something seemed odd. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone, totally immersed in whatever was on the screen. Minho sat next to you, but his typically calm manner had shifted. He kept looking across at you, shifting in his seat, and sighing lightly; his small dramatic movements were beginning to add up.
You looked up and saw him looking at you before he hurriedly turned his head. His lips were pursed, and he kept looking away, as if he were trying to hide something. But it wasn't like him to be so distant. You lifted an eyebrow, sensing something was off.
“Minho?” you asked, slightly distracted, still not sure why he was acting so… off. “You okay?”
He didn’t answer right away, only huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. His foot tapped a little too fast on the floor, his gaze never meeting yours. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though there was a playfulness in his tone you couldn’t quite place.
You glanced at him, a little puzzled now. “Are you sure? You don’t look fine. You’re acting weird.”
Minho huffed again, louder this time, as if he was putting on a show. “I’m not acting weird,” he said, looking at the ceiling as though it held the answers to the universe. “It’s just… it’s whatever.”
You narrowed your eyes, trying to figure out what was really going on. Minho was being unusually cryptic, and it was driving you a little crazy. He’d been fidgeting this entire time, making it obvious that something was bugging him.
You set your phone down and turned your full attention to him. “Okay, now you really have to tell me what’s going on, because something’s not right.”
He turned his head toward you, a tiny grin forming at the corner of his mouth, but he refused to say anything. You studied him closely. His outfit was the same as always; there was nothing new there. He wasn't upset about anything in particular, but he was acting weirdly distant. It was as if he was expecting something from you.
Finally, he broke the silence. "It's just...I can't believe you didn't notice," he continued, his voice dripping with mock annoyance. "You've been sitting right here the whole time, and you didn't even see it."
“See what?” you asked, still unsure of what he was talking about, your mind racing through possibilities. “What am I missing?”
Minho sighed dramatically, shifting again, this time looking at his reflection in the window. “Nothing. Never mind,” he said, clearly trying to sound like he wasn’t affected, but you could tell he was enjoying this a little too much.
You were about to give up when it hit you like a bolt of lightning.
His hair!
Minho's hair is usually messy, but it was nicely done today, shorter and more professional than usual.
“Oh!” you said, finally getting it. “Did you get a haircut?!”
Minho froze, his lips curling into a mischievous grin, but his eyes remained playful and a little teasing. “Took you long enough,” he said, still pouting like he was holding onto his frustration for dramatic effect. “I was starting to think you were really going to ignore it.”
You blinked, realizing how obvious it had been all along. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice right away!” You immediately reached over to ruffle his hair, grinning. “But it looks good, babe! You look great.”
His face softened just a little, but his playful teasing didn’t fade. “It’s fine. I mean, I know I look good, but I wanted you to notice. I thought we were closer than that,” he said, feigning an exaggerated look of hurt.
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible! I was just distracted!”
Minho leaned back against the couch, a smug smile spreading across his face. “Mmhmm, distracted,” he repeated, clearly enjoying how much he was messing with you. “I’m still waiting for a good enough apology.”
You leaned in, narrowing your eyes with a grin. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry for not noticing sooner, but it looks really good. You’re more handsome than usual,” you teased, knowing exactly what he wanted to hear.
Minho pretended to think about it, then shrugged, his grin growing wider. “Okay, fine. I’ll let it slide this time. But next time? You better notice immediately.”
You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but you knew he was just teasing. You gave his hair another playful ruffle. “I swear, next time I won’t even blink without noticing. You’ve got me trained now.”
“Better,” he said, his tone light as he relaxed again. But then he added with a smirk, “But seriously, it looks good, right? I mean, you weren’t totally wrong for not noticing immediately…”
You shook your head, laughing at how he kept pushing it. “You’re ridiculous, Minho.” But deep down, you knew how much he secretly enjoyed the attention, even if he played it off.
