your new friend vernon is walking you home one night, telling you all about the date his mom is setting him up on in an attempt to “get out there more”. he admits it’s been a while since he’s taken somebody on a date, and he’s sort of nervous and half dreading it. he doesn’t even have any idea what he’s going to wear.
the two of you reach the front of your apartment building, and you face to look at him. placing your hands on his shoulders you teasingly say, “wear that navy blue polo shirt of yours. it almost makes you look nice.”
he huffs out a small laugh in response, but the truth is he’s sort of spiraling. you notice what he’s wearing beyond an aesthetic sense? do you pay attention to how the shirt fits him perfectly, how it hugs at his chest and shows off his arms? of course, vernon knows he’s attractive — people swoon over him on the daily, and many times he can get away with not paying for ramen at the convenience store if the girl at the counter is young. but, it never crossed his mind that you thought about him in that way. it was different with you, wasn’t it?
he thinks about that, and you, on the way back to his dorm.
you text him to ask about his date the next night, the curiosity getting the better of you.
how was ur date? did she appreciate the polo?
he admits he didn’t wear the polo, but doesn’t offer any explanation as to why. he adds that the date was going fine until they were saying goodbye and she went in for a kiss on the cheek and he held out his hand. he probably won’t see her again.
you laugh out loud at his message.
when it’s your birthday a week later, he wears the polo to the casual dinner you host at your place with your closest friends. he notices when your eyes linger on his lean figure, and the way you blush when you know you’ve been caught. you’re almost sure he’s worn it on purpose.
jeonghan passes chan a small pink box wrapped with a white bow. even without him saying its from you, chan knows: he knows your handwriting anywhere.
"they've been bragging all day that you'll love their present the most," seungkwan rolls his eyes. "so go ahead and prove them wrong."
chan eyes you as you stand next to where vernon's sitting, hiding a smile behind a plastic cup. the ice crunches together as you watch him, a tender look in your eyes. he pulls one end of the bow, slowly unraveling it from around the box. the lid comes off easily enough, and he has to parse through tissue paper. the thing on top is a gift card to a store he loves.
"aw... honey," he looks at you. "that's nice."
seungkwan, on the other hand, has turned to you. "you said it'd be the best!"
you just shrug. chan keeps digging while seungkwan gloats about his present being the best for sure now... but chan finds something wrapped in tissue paper at the bottom of the small box. someone--mingyu, he thinks, but he's too preoccupied to care--tells seungkwan he should think again...
and rolled up securely in tissue paper is a key with a folded up piece of paper underneath it: move in with me? he looks up, and you're smiling hard enough that you definitely can't hide it with a long sip of your drink. he nods once and pockets it. the two of you will talk about it more later.
(and in the background, he hears seungcheol sigh heavily, all but throwing his own present at chan to open next. no one's going to top "losing your three roommates for one far cooler (and hotter) one," as you later put it.)
when you see the law intern booking it towards you, you wave your father to go on back to the car. if it was for him, the guy would have called out his name--but his sights are set on you. he must have booked it to catch you before you left choi, yoon & hong. but he slows down, doubling over to catch his breath (did he take the stairs...?) before holding up your wallet.
"oh!" you take it back. it must have fallen out of your pocket. "thank you, mister..."
"boo," he straightens up. "seungkwan." and his face is slightly red. "and... um... my associate wanted me to give you this." he holds out a piece of paper with a phone number hastily scrawled across it.
you furrow your brow. "they have my father's number--"
"no. no, it's... it's for you."
"if there's complications--"
"i'm trying to ask you out!" he says, and then realizes how loud he was. "sorry. i... i'm not involved with anything you're involved in, and i think you're cute, and--"
oh. you give seungkwan a once over, and he's pretty damn cute when he's flustered. you pocket his number. "i'm free saturday," you say. "i'll call you, alright?"
his eyes light up with joy, and you can see the weight lifted off his shoulders. "yes! i'd--i'd like that." he starts taking steps back, "i've gotta... i have work... i--"
"i'll call you!" you call out again, and he's beaming when he nearly walks into the door.
(and he walks back into a firm ready to tease him, because mingyu and wonwoo saw it all from the windows. at least seungkwan wins: he gets to see you again.)
four months after you broke up, you send a questionable series of texts to your ex boyfriend at far too late of an hour for it to be considered 'a good idea'. but well... the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day, right?
pairing : lee jihoon x gn reader.
genre : angst, slight fluff / exes to a second chance.
content tags : swearing. humour as a coping mechanism. inspired by arctic monkeys 'fireside' because emotionally, i never left 2014. (the divider implies a time skip of like an hour.)
there's all these secrets that i can't keep, like in my heart there's that hotel suite
and you lived there so long, it's kinda strange, now you're gone
thank you for checking this out! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3
hhu x gn!reader. no warnings. pure fluff. barely proof read. est 300 words.
SEUNGCHEOL holds you in his strong arms, his whole front pressed into your back. the pressure of him wrapped around you feels more like home than anywhere you’ve ever lived. he could doze off at the snap of your fingers, but tries so hard to fight it until you get there too, and you never go to bed without him murmuring how much he loves you into the crook of your neck.
WONWOO tells you stories. sometimes he makes entire elaborate tales up for you. sometimes he just talks about his day. the low rumble of his voice across the space between you is the knight fighting the dragon breathing fire in your brain. your eyes always start to feel heavy before he can reach the end, his blinding, fond smile always the last thing you see.
MINGYU changes the bedding at silly o’clock in the morning and sprays lavender mist on your clean pillow. he gets you fresh pyjamas, fixes your favourite (uncaffeinated) hot drink. he knows you shouldn’t try to force sleep, so he sits awake with you at the breakfast bar until you start yawning. then, he insists on carrying you back to bed: he says that the walk might raise your heart rate and then you’ll ’lose the tired’. and well, you can never argue with those puppy-dog eyes.
VERNON sings to you. he can’t sleep if there’s background noise in the room, though he’s more than happy to provide it for you if it helps. he knows a few lullabies, but sometimes he can’t get through them without laughing; thankfully, there are a few songs he knows work like magic, and his soft, sweet voice quickly makes you feel like you’re floating. he keeps going for a few minutes after you’ve drifted off just in case you’re still in limbo; he settles down only when your breaths start to jump with the snores he’s grown to love.
thank you for checking this out! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3
hhu x gn!reader. no warnings. pure fluff. barely proof read. est 300 words.
SEUNGCHEOL holds you in his strong arms, his whole front pressed into your back. the pressure of him wrapped around you feels more like home than anywhere you’ve ever lived. he could doze off at the snap of your fingers, but tries so hard to fight it until you get there too, and you never go to bed without him murmuring how much he loves you into the crook of your neck.
WONWOO tells you stories. sometimes he makes entire elaborate tales up for you. sometimes he just talks about his day. the low rumble of his voice across the space between you is the knight fighting the dragon breathing fire in your brain. your eyes always start to feel heavy before he can reach the end, his blinding, fond smile always the last thing you see.
MINGYU changes the bedding at silly o’clock in the morning and sprays lavender mist on your clean pillow. he gets you fresh pyjamas, fixes your favourite (uncaffeinated) hot drink. he knows you shouldn’t try to force sleep, so he sits awake with you at the breakfast bar until you start yawning. then, he insists on carrying you back to bed: he says that the walk might raise your heart rate and then you’ll ’lose the tired’. and well, you can never argue with those puppy-dog eyes.
VERNON sings to you. he can’t sleep if there’s background noise in the room, though he’s more than happy to provide it for you if it helps. he knows a few lullabies, but sometimes he can’t get through them without laughing; thankfully, there are a few songs he knows work like magic, and his soft, sweet voice quickly makes you feel like you’re floating. he keeps going for a few minutes after you’ve drifted off just in case you’re still in limbo; he settles down only when your breaths start to jump with the snores he’s grown to love.
thank you for checking this out! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3
hhu x gn!reader. no warnings. pure fluff. barely proof read. est 300 words.
SEUNGCHEOL holds you in his strong arms, his whole front pressed into your back. the pressure of him wrapped around you feels more like home than anywhere you’ve ever lived. he could doze off at the snap of your fingers, but tries so hard to fight it until you get there too, and you never go to bed without him murmuring how much he loves you into the crook of your neck.
WONWOO tells you stories. sometimes he makes entire elaborate tales up for you. sometimes he just talks about his day. the low rumble of his voice across the space between you is the knight fighting the dragon breathing fire in your brain. your eyes always start to feel heavy before he can reach the end, his blinding, fond smile always the last thing you see.
MINGYU changes the bedding at silly o’clock in the morning and sprays lavender mist on your clean pillow. he gets you fresh pyjamas, fixes your favourite (uncaffeinated) hot drink. he knows you shouldn’t try to force sleep, so he sits awake with you at the breakfast bar until you start yawning. then, he insists on carrying you back to bed: he says that the walk might raise your heart rate and then you’ll ’lose the tired’. and well, you can never argue with those puppy-dog eyes.
VERNON sings to you. he can’t sleep if there’s background noise in the room, though he’s more than happy to provide it for you if it helps. he knows a few lullabies, but sometimes he can’t get through them without laughing; thankfully, there are a few songs he knows work like magic, and his soft, sweet voice quickly makes you feel like you’re floating. he keeps going for a few minutes after you’ve drifted off just in case you’re still in limbo; he settles down only when your breaths start to jump with the snores he’s grown to love.
thank you for checking this out! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3
“i don’t think i’m ever going to be capable of loving someone.”
vernon hates when you talk like this. but he says nothing, lying on his back beside you in the park grass. you needed an out, and there he was: ready to run off with you and stargaze until you started to feel a little more human again. and yet here the two of you are, still not quite yourself again. or maybe… this is you, he has to remind himself. you are hurt. a hurt you is still you, and all he can do is try to help you heal. at least you’re seeing a therapist, too: healing is hard, but he supports you through it.
“i mean…” your hands rest on your stomach, and you just… stare beyond the sky. beyond the stars, and whatever lies outside of them. “i just don’t think i’ll ever be normal. not enough for someone to love.”
he swallows hard. i love you, he thinks to himself. i want you to be better. i want you to learn to love yourself again. he wants a lot for you, to be honest. he wants good things: for you to move on, one day, and find someone who loves you wholeheartedly. as much as he wants that person to be him (so much that his heart aches for it), he’s ready to let you go and be your best friend.
“it just feels like… i’m never going to move past it.” your hand finds his for a moment, just to bump the back of it against his. a reminder that he’s still there. “like all my relationships are doomed. what if i start seeing someone and… and i just can’t be what they want?”
his fingers twitch. your hand is right next to his, and he just wants to hold it. to remind you that you’re not alone now. he looks over, and watches you for a moment. “it’s going to take time to heal.”
“it’s been fucking years, vernon. i just want to stop hurting.” you shut your eyes. “i just… i wish i could be normal.”
his hand takes yours. and he squeezes gently, hoping that he can anchor you back down to reality. “plenty of people are hurt,” he says. “it just takes time.”
you open your mouth to refute… and then you stop. you just squeeze his hand hard, as if holding on for dear life. “right,” you say, in a quieter voice. “it just takes time.”
genre: fluff
warnings: skinship, lmk if i missed something
w.c: 490
a/n: heart goes brrrr hours...
Seungcheol is a steady hand on your shoulder, offering silent support; a grounding presence in life's chaos. He's a knowing look from across the room; a connection that speaks volumes. He's a guiding touch, a promise of protection and encouragement.
Jeonghan is a feather-light touch on your back, a subtle expression of care and empathy; a delicate assurance that he's attuned to your feelings.
He's a gaze filled with understanding and kindness.
Joshua is a subtle thumb caressing your hand, an unspoken reassurance. It's a reassurance that silently conveys, "I'm here for you," It's a gesture that carries the weight of shared experiences and unspoken camaraderie.
Junhui is a comforting presence at your side, offering support with a soft assurance; a gentle reminder that he's there to navigate challenges together.
Hoshi's a genuine smile that crinkles his eyes, a warmth that reflects his genuine joy in your company; a quiet acknowledgment of the positivity you bring.
Wonwoo is a gaze that lingers, a prolonged and thoughtful study that makes you feel known in a way words can't capture. He's the comfortable silence, a presence that feels like a refuge, allowing you to be fully yourself without explanation.
Woozi is the subtle interlocking of fingers, a touch that conveys a sense of calm and assurance; a grasp that assures you that, in this moment, you are not alone. He's a mosaic of quiet gestures and meaningful touches.
Seokmin is a comforting embrace that unfolds like a gentle symphony. His arms always find their way around you, encircling your waist with a warmth that feels like a familiar melody.
Mingyu is the chin that rests gently on the top of your head. His actions carry a sense of ease as if he's uncovering the mysteries of your essence through a simple, affectionate sniff.
Minghao is bodies leaning into one another, close enough that the space between feels insignificant. Two pairs of hands find a shared refuge in the warmth of a pocket, fingers intertwining effortlessly as if they have always known each other's touch.
Seungkwan is a flurry of warmth and care, his fingers deftly wrapping a scarf around your neck with a meticulous touch. The fabric unfolds like a protective cocoon, shielding you from the chill in the air, each loop a testament to his thoughtfulness.
Vernon is a gentle kiss on your cheek. His kiss is a punctuation mark in the narrative of your connection that says, "I'm here, and you matter." It's a gesture that lingers in the air, leaving a sweet aftertaste of affection, a reminder of the closeness and warmth shared in that fleeting touch.
Chan is a soft touch, a brush of warmth against your skin that transcends the need for explicit communication. He is the subtle hand on your thigh tracing mindless patterns. His touch is gentle, a manifestation of comfort and familiarity.
[voicemail from vernon, 00:02am] hey, uh, it’s me! just calling to say happy new year, i guess. i know you’re probably asleep, or like, out with friends or something, i don’t know, but — i was just thinking of you. which is weird, right? i started my year thinking of you? maybe it’s not weird. i don’t know. i’m not sure how to say what i want to say — i think — maybe i can show you? next time you’re around. or when i’m around. oh god, did that sound sleazy? it wasn’t supposed to be sleazy. i didn’t mean it… sleazy. just — you know what, just, happy new year. i really hope you have a great one. i hope i get to be there for it all, too. but — yeah. i’ll see you soon.
warnings: n/a just a silly interrogation of reader's housemates
daisy's notes: yes this IS a prequel to the seokmin fic-
“You may be wondering why I’ve summoned the three of you here today—”
“We all live here.”
Despite Wonwoo’s interruption, you took a deep breath. You pulled up a picture of yourself that you’d taken maybe a week ago, zoomed in specifically to the flannel you had been wearing there. Of course, you wanted to hold this interrogation until Soonyoung was home—but he hadn’t answered your texts, and this was the rare moment that most of you were in the same space and didn’t have anywhere to be.
“I left my flannel on the couch,” you said. “It’s one of my bigger ones so it’s extra warm and comfy… And now it’s missing.”
“Didn’t it get thrown in with the laundry?” Jun looked around. “It’s your favorite.”
“Why was it on the couch to begin with?” Jihoon piped up. “I thought we agreed—”
You shook your head, “That’s not the point right now, we can bitch about leaving clothes out later.” You turned your attention to Wonwoo, who had been quietly observing after that earlier remark. “Wonwoo?”
“I know of the flannel,” he said. “But if I wanted to borrow it, I would have asked.”
You nodded slowly, turning the thought over in your mind. He had a point. Wonwoo borrowed clothing from you before—a hoodie you owned, and a scarf another time. He’d always made a point of asking before he took things from you, and usually made sure you saw him returning them. “Okay. Jihoon—”
“I don’t wear other people’s clothes.”
Jun furrowed his brow. “You wore my hoodie yesterday?”
Jihoon’s face started turning red. “I don’t wear other people’s clothes often. I wouldn’t have worn your flannel anyway.”
You marked Jihoon down in your mind as ‘occasional liar when embarrassed.’ You would focus on him again later, let him cool off first before you really turned the heat up on him (by literally asking again and promising you wouldn’t be that mad if he lost it).
Before you could turn your attention to Jun, your phone went off. When you pulled it out, it was Soonyoung, saying something about how he had his own flannels. Why would he borrow one of yours? Which was fair enough: sometimes you and Soonyoung had similar fashion tastes. He wouldn’t need to borrow your flannel when he probably had one similar enough to it to pull his outfit together.
“Jun.” You looked up. “Did you take it?”
“It’s your favorite one,” he repeated. “I wouldn’t take it without you knowing.”
Wonwoo, despite finding a little amusement in how serious you were taking all of this, tapped your arm. “Are you sure it isn’t buried in your closet? I’ve seen it. We could lose Jihoon in there—”
“It’s not that bad!” You pouted. “But yes, it’s not in there, because I organized the damn thing while looking for it.”
“Why do you need it so badly?” Jun spoke up. “I’m sure we’ll find it, but you’re acting really serious about this.”
For a moment, you debated not telling them. Yet you let out a sigh. “It’s my lucky flannel… and I’ve got a date on Saturday, and I really want it to go well because he’s really sweet, and—”
Jun waved a hand to stop you before you. “We’ll help you find it.”
“Is it Seokmin?” Jihoon asked after a moment, and when you nodded, he, too, nodded to himself. “I see.”
Despite the way your heart warmed at having your housemates care for you, you pouted. “Okay, so one of you had to have accidentally grabbed it. So that means—”
The door suddenly opened with a chime, and the four of you turned to see Soonyoung making his way inside. His headphones were on, and he was bobbing his head to whatever song he was listening to. He paid little to no attention to any of you as he stopped to slip out of his clunky shoes and into his house slippers, eyes pinned to his phone as he stepped up.
“YOU!”
Soonyoung’s head jerked up, pulling his headphones off. “Huh?”
Flannel thief located. “I asked you if you’d seen it!”
“Seen what…?”
Jun leaned back in his chair enough to peer around Jihoon, “You’re wearing their flannel. It’s been missing for days.”
Soonyoung stood still for a moment, looking down at himself. The flannel still had one of your favorite pins attached to the breast pocket, a clear sign that this was your flannel he’d accidentally stolen. “... Isn’t this mine?”
Soonyoung: Exit pursued by four housemates yelling.
your arms are crossed. your brows are furrowed. your lips are set in a dead straight line. you mean serious business.
he blinks at you, confused, but shifts so he’s sitting upright on the sofa. “okay,” vernon agrees, apprehensive. he pats the space next to him.
you take it, uncrossing your arms and looking him dead in the eye, so seriously that his mind short circuits for a second — he starts panicking internally, and that means he almost misses your next words;
“vernon, we need a cat.”
before he even fully registers your words and processes his relief, you’re begging. “i’m serious, okay! i know you’re busy and i can get busy sometimes, but i really — really — really think we should get a cat.”
“o—”
“from the rescue centre! you know, the one we visit all the time. pleeeease don’t say no.”
“i mean — ”
“and i need someone to keep me company when you’re away for tour and stuff too, you know.”
“is this… emotional blackmail?”
“no! i just think we’d be great parents! we can afford it! and we’d do a really good job, especially you, ‘cause you’re so awesome and handsome and cool a—”
“alright, okay, hold on.” he snorts, holding up a hand to stop you. “you don’t have to resort to flattery.”
“so… we can get the cat?” you gaze at him with pleading, rounded eyes, and he blinks.
“i literally don’t know how you got to that conclusion from what i said,” he says dryly.
your pout is instantaneous. “vernon!”
“baby!”
“please. please please please pleeeeaase.”
his smile is borderlining a smirk by now, as he pinches your cheeks. “you’re so cute.”
“i’m not cute. i’m desperate.”
“you’re still cute.”
“usually i’d say thank you, but right now i don’t care. can we get the cat?”
vernon chuckles, looping arm around you. “of course we can get the cat. you didn’t even have to beg, you know. i was sold the moment you said it.”
your delighted beam, he notices quickly, is turning more and more sheepish as you slip out from under his arm, sidling over to a cardboard box he hadn’t even noticed before.
“so, uh… about that cat,” you begin.
“baby.”
“yes?”
“what’s in the box?”
you glance between him and the box. “what box? this box? oh! haha. nothing. nothing crazy. ha.”
“it wouldn’t happen to be… i don’t know, a cat?”
“whaaat?” you scoff at him, waving a hand disbelievingly. “a cat? a cat! pshh. what a craazy thought. imagine that.”
the silence that follows is broken by one very small, very quiet meow.
“okay, okay!” you throw your hands up guiltily. “i’m sorry, she was just looking at me with those big big eyes and i couldn’t just say no, could i?”
far from being mad, or even surprised, vernon is just entertained. “and what if i had said no?”
“i would’ve cried. do you want that on your conscience?”
“never.” he stands, opening his hands to you with a boyish smile. “now. hand me my child.”
an / thought of this idea after many many cat pics (thank you sammy perla is the love of my life). and then i sat and wrote it out in 15 mins. (could alternatively be used as a very accurate depiction of me begging my mother for a cat, except i’ve been doing that for over a decade and she only says no.)
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