PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (ft. kim mingyu)
GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive content
TROPES: brother's best friend, slow burn question mark, skirting around communication because that's a good plot point, jealousy as requested, banter, teasing, arbitrary social norms about words like "cute" and "sweet" pls don't listen to a word i say ever, etc.
WORD COUNT: 12k (for some reason)
The first time you re-meet Jeon Wonwoo, your brother Joshua's best friend, you think a lot of things. He does, too. It's really interesting how neither of you say exactly what you think.
"Y/N! Is that really you?"
If you hadn't been on the phone with Karina when you heard Wonwoo's voice, you think you might've genuinely passed away because his voice is something of nostalgic value to you, something distant and definitely not in the same living room as you. You look up and your eyes widen when you find the man gaping at you. "-Oh, hi–" you shoot up from your seat on the couch and then quickly remember your friend still on the line. You tell her, "Sorry, Rina, mind if I call you back later? Okay, thanks, love you. Night."
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you like you'd said something amusing and it's turn to take him in as you drop your phone onto the couch. "Wonwoo, god, you're alive?" you start with a small smile and continue, "Wow, um, you look… the same." What you mean to say is: How did you get even taller, you attractive bastard?
Wonwoo offers you one of his smug smiles at that and replies, "Thanks? I think. You look much more… grown up, you know." He really should've said: Holy shit, you're pretty. And then he opens his arms, "Bring it in, kid. Let's see if I can still get away with tackling you to the ground."
You scoff even as you step closer to him, ignoring the way his arms are a lot bigger than they once used to be when you tell him, "I think you're remembering it wrong, dude. I was the one tackling you."
It's no use, though, because when he wraps his arms around you, you sigh contentedly because this right here? This is a hug. Wonwoo's so warm around you and you can only pretend that the way you feel his hard muscles tense around you doesn't send chills up your spine. Wonwoo's smiling wide, only barely controlling a comment about how good you smell and how you might've grown taller but somehow still manage to fit just the same in his arms.
All in all, it's a pretty sweet reunion. You haven't seen each other in over five years so the curiosity and surprise is barely uncalled for. You only wished you could've held onto the hug longer before Joshua entered the room with a disgusted grimace on his face.
"Gross. Can you guys not do that?"
You're the first to pull away with a flustered sigh at Joshua's comment, rolling your eyes. Wonwoo tries to cover up the way he's slightly out of breath by countering, "Why? You can't handle us interacting like two normal humans? Want us to claw at each other's eyeballs like the good old times?"
–
"I don't get it, though," Wonwoo tells you, a slice of donkatsu hovering near his mouth, "Why didn't you just move in with Shua?"
"That's what I've been asking her! Haven't I been a good enough brother to you? What did I do wrong? Huh?"
You'd already seen Joshua's reaction coming, sipping the beer from your glass to brace yourself. "And as I've politely reminded you many times, big brother, it's not personal. I just thinking that would be the equivalent of moving back in with my parents. Plus, I can afford to live alone now, remember? The promotion that came with the reallocation?"
Joshua flashes you the unconvinced glare he always does when you reason with him. But you train your eyes on Wonwoo instead, determined to get him on your side at least. "It would be waste to just live with him and not do the independent thing. Plus, I literally live across from you, man, so I might as well be moving in with you."
Wonwoo nods quietly as he washes his bite down with some beer, "Hmm. That's fair enough. I don't know why Shua's been whining about it then."
You break into a pleased laugh at that where your brothers gasps in offense. "Hey, Jeon Wonwoo, whose side are you supposed to be on here?"
Wonwoo shrugs, "I'm on the side of logic, my man, I'm sorry."
"God, don't let her fool you. She says all this reasonable stuff but–"
"Oh, so you agree that it's reasonable then?" you question him with a raised brow but he ignores you as he spews his nonsense.
"-- But the real reason she wants to live alone is so she can get laid."
You hit Joshua real hard in the arm at that, "Ew, dude, don't be a pervert."
Wonwoo looks postively entertained between the two of you as he provokes you, "What does he mean?"
"Fuck if I know. I don't know what gave this guy the idea that I like to sleep around, if anything, he's the player."
Joshua narrows his eyes at you, "Uh-huh, me, the guy who was in a long-term relationship of nearly five years?"
"Emphasis on was in a relationship. How many people have you slept with since then? I don't want to know. I'm just making a point."
Wonwoo chuckles, "She's right, man. You're not exactly on the higher ground here."
"Okay, okay, but I did overhear you telling your friend that, quote, living with my brother would be the greatest clockbock there is, end quote."
Your jaw falls open when you hear him recount your words to Karina only a few hours ago. "You're eavesdropping on my calls? Wow, see, this is why I don't want to live with you."
"You weren't exactly very quiet! And you were sitting in the living room, too!"
"Whatever," you roll your eyes and then catch the questioning look Wonwoo sends your brother and you take matters in your own hands. "Fine, I said that because I mean, yeah, it's not like the hottest thing to be living with your brother, okay? Like what if I meet a cute guy and lose him to the fact that Shua's the biggest prude to exist?"
"Man, you just made a player, and now I'm a prude? Choose a story, goddamn it!"
You shrug with a grin, "People can be two things, bro."
–
"So, you all moved in yet?" Wonwoo asks you and you try to ignore how silly he looks with the edges of his glasses fogged up against the heat of the coffee in his hands. Last week, he'd texted you asking if you'd like to get coffee and catch up. You'd replied with a goofy grin playing on your lips at 1 AM with a: sure :))) if u pay!
You hum as you stir your own latte, "I think so. But everytime I think it's all done, there's always something small I forgot. Like, this morning I realized I don't have wine glasses."
He chortles, "Ah, I know what you mean. Something small but inconvenient. Like a good night lamp."
"Ugh, I need one of those, too. I brought my old one with me but ended up leaving it in the study because I didn't have one there." You sigh as you slump in your seat, "God, I hate moving. I'll have age twenty years by the time I'm fully done."
Wonwoo watches you with a bemused smile. "I can help you with shopping, if you'd like."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean, it's not like I moved in recently but I still remember some good places for this stuff. And it might be less tiresome if you have some company."
Your replying smile is so genuine that it's got Wonwoo smiling and he thinks he's helping you out more for himself than Joshua. It's an unsettling thought for a moment but then your voice pipes back up with an anecdote from your work and he can't care for the thoughts.
"...So, you have any luck finding cute guys to bring home?"
The question catches you off-guard and your grip on the wine glass you were inspecting loosens dangerously, but you hold onto it before it can break like your pretense of sanity.
"God," you groan as you look at a chuckling Wonwoo who's standing next to you, arms crossed in that infuriatingly attractive way. "I was slightly drunk when I said that, so it would be nice if you forgot about it."
"Why? I mean, it's understandable you'd want to get into the dating pool here. It's one way to get to know a new city."
You turn all your attention to a different glass. "I guess. But I haven't had too much luck, no. Maybe waiting around to find love organically is my problem."
Wonwoo doesn't immediately respond to that, making you uneasy and sending heat to your ears. Whatever. You'd just have to scream into your pillow and cry yourself to sleep so you could forget this embarrassment.
"Hmm, I don't know. It'll just take more time that way, I suppose. If you're willing to wait."
It's your turn to go mute except this time the silence is comfortable, only broken by a comment here and there about the glasses.
"What about you?" you ask Wonwoo at checkout, watching the worker wrap up your chosen set of glasses in bubble wrap. "Are you… with someone?"
Wonwoo's lips twitch with a small smile at your question. "Not at the moment. I like the space of being single." You nod in understanding.
"And I haven't really met anyone worth spending my time with," he says, eyes floating to you as he pushes his glasses up with a finger.
You pause at his words, thanking the cashier for their help and making your way to the exit. "You make it sound like dating's a chore, Wonwoo."
He shrugs with a shoulder, "It can be. With the wrong person."
–
"So… tell me all about your hot brother's hot best friend?"
"Ew and ew, Karina, do you want me to block you for real this time?"
"I'm just being honest but all right, do you want to talk about your years-old crush on your brother's best–"
"That's not any better. And I don't have crush on him. Also, it would really nice if we didn't say the word crush anymore. We're both adults with jobs."
"And adults with jobs aren't allowed to have a little fun?" Karina's voice is laced with laughter and you groan in frustration. Who has she been hanging out with to make her so much worse? Not you.
"Anyway, since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. My older brother is okay. And so is Wonwoo. There."
A few minutes of further pestering from Karina and you finally let slip that Wonwoo and you have been hanging out here and there, sometimes over coffee that led to shopping dates (Karina's words, not yours) and other times spent over at Joshua's, drinking or playing video games on his couch. It was pretty cozy and you couldn't really complain about this new life.
"Oh, so you don't miss me then, huh? Nice to know. But also it seems like you're hitting it off with Wonwoo and before you cut me off, you did like Wonwoo for like half your childhood, remember? Maybe this could become something. Who knows?"
Oh, you remember. It was you who spent long summer afternoons staring at Wonwoo as he came over to your home after class, spending all his time arguing with Joshua about a card game they'd been playing or about which villain was cooler in the new movie they'd watched. For a while, it had been a distant thing but over time, you'd warmed up to them and started talking more to Wonwoo, now a regular participant in their arguments.
And as it turns out, it doesn't take a lot of arguments to fall for Jeon Wonwoo.
–
One thing about you is that you're stubborn. You like to think it's a genetic thing because the only person who could rival your firmness was none other than your brother. And this meant that when Karina tried to convince you that you still had a soft spot for Wonwoo, you tried to tell her that's all it was: a soft spot. Like a platonic affinity for someone you'd spent a lot of time with growing up.
And you reasoned it out with yourself that night, thinking back to the time you'd spent with him recently. It was familiar in the best way possible. Where meeting new people at work was absolutely exhausting, coming back home to your brother and Wonwoo was like a hug to your soul.
Speaking of hugs, your mind rolled over to the one you'd shared with Wonwoo a few weeks ago, an event that you often found yourself thinking. As sane and rational as you thought yourself to be, the way you'd find yourself unable to control a giggle in the dark every time you remembered the way you all but melted into his arms, strong but fond in their embrace around your waist.
And when you come to your senses, you realize it's ridiculous how stuck up on that hug you are. It's stupid your smile that breaks through anyway and the way your heart beats faster when you remember the plans you'd made with Wonwoo for tomorrow, a trip to a local bookstore because he had found your collection of books lacking the day he'd come over for a visit.
You roll over in bed then, groaning a little because you're starting to think the soft spot might be… growing.
–
"You know I really didn't think I would spend this much on books today," you mumble as you tap your card at the register. It was almost funny how many conversations you and Wonwoo have had at check-out, almost inevitable because often the shopping experience itself meant a lot of focused silence as the two of you browsed around in tandem.
It was a weirdly heartwarming way to spend time together. Or maybe that was just you and your weakness for quality time.
"What do you mean? We literally mutually decided that you needed a better collection." Wonwoo leans against the counter with a cocked brow.
"Well, the mutual part is up for discussion. It's more like you shamed me for keeping a modest book collection. And I mean, I wasn't so sure if I'd find anything good here."
"Really?" he asks, picking up the heavy bag from the counter before you can reach for it, "Because I remember you agreeing pretty quickly and enthusiastically to my proposition to go book-shopping."
"That was only because you made it sound like fun." And it meant that I'd get to spend more time with you. "And it was fun. So that's one thing you're right about."
Wonwoo's smile turns smug as you exit the bookstore, each with a paper bag in hand. You'd settled for carrying Wonwoo's own purchase of two new books that he'd apparently been meaning to come out and buy.
"Anyway, now what? You wanna go to my place and break into one of these bad boys?" You shake the bag in your hand with a gleeful grin. But Wonwoo's looking at the mall across from you with mouth slightly ajar in concentration. And then he smiles, pure excitement plastered across his face when looks back at you.
"I have a much better idea." That's all he says before his unoccupied hand finds yours and tugs you after him. Admittedly, you're a little dizzy at the sudden touch and let him pull you across the road with quick steps, struggling to keep up with him. At the back of your head, you store away how attractive it is that Wonwoo's holding a good dozen books in a hand and yours in the other, racing ahead like it was the most important thing in the world. And honestly? If it was with Wonwoo, you think you feel the urgency in your veins as if it were travelling across your intertwined palms.
It's a good day to be a romantic for you, as you later find out, standing in line with Wonwoo to purchase tickets to a newly released movie. The genre? Rom-com.
"Well, it's not so much a rom-com as the poster makes it seem. That's actually a deft marketing stunt. It's actually a pretty serious movie about love and I've heard it's not for the weak."
So many questions. You have so many questions.
For one, "I didn't know you were into romantic movies," you comment, watching Wonwoo from the corner of your eye, too afraid to look him in the eye now that your hand was no longer in his.
"It's possible to avoid romance. Everything is about love these days, even if it isn't."
You also can't believe that you're about to watch a movie with Wonwoo. It's all strangely… different. You'd never been to the movies alone with him. It's a new territory for you. But you're not mad. If anything, the smile on your lips is playful.
"And it's not just that you're too scared to admit that you like rom-coms?"
"I'm not. Into rom-coms, I mean. The humor is straight-up bad and the romance is tolerable at best. It's like if you're going to do a x to death, you might as well do it well."
"I can't believe this," you mutter more to yourself than him, "Jeon Wonwoo watching a rom-com? This must be a dream."
"You dream about me, hmm?"
You narrowly avoid whiplash when you turn to look at Wonwoo, his teasing only another addition to the list of things you didn't think you'd hear your brother's best friend every say to you. But the more you know, huh?
The movie itself is insane. The plot is devastating enough on its own but the way Wonwoo's shoulder pressed into yours the whole time, despite there being more than enough space between the two seats, has you more vulnerable than usual. So find yourself tearing up halfway through the movie and sit through the credits with half-contained sobs. And where Wonwoo had laughed at your tears mid-way, when he noticed your sobs, his hand found your back, rubbing it comfortingly.
"That was horrific," you mumble when you're less overcome with sadness and pout at Wonwoo. "I hate you for making me watch that. I will never find happiness. And worse, I will never find love."
Your words, punctuated with that small pout of yours, has Wonwoo a breath away from falling to his knees with his head in hands because fuck, you're adorable. And truth be told, he was tearing up at the end, too, but he wouldn't let you know that because the way you accuse him for your state is just incredibly precious to him.
"It was terrific," he corrects you, "And I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd get so emotional."
You glare at Wonwoo at that, as if you hadn't just been dabbing at your eyes with his pocket tissues, "Okay, Mister Emotionless, don't think I didn't catch you wiping tears away in the closing scene."
Wonwoo shoots a guilty grin and pats your head, "You're cute."
The statement leaves you speechless enough that Wonwoo gets away with it, starting to walk away with a gaping you in his wake. You're deeply confused and slightly jittery when you finally catch up to him with a small "I wasn't trying to be" of affront under your breath.
–
"That's bad, right, isn't it? It's so bad. It's horrible."
"Calm down, Y/N, he called you cute, just so we're clear? Not a bunch of bad words right? So why is it bad?"
"Because!" you cry out, "Because cute is like the most platonic adjective. I thought we were having a moment, what with a movie date and all– but if he thinks I'm cute then I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong."
"Okay, I know what you mean but that's not always how things work. I mean, you said he held your hand and stuff, right? That's more than platonic. And it's all about the tone. Cute can be a very romantic word if in the right context."
"The context," you tell Karina with a sigh, "is that he's my brother's best friend! He couldn't make it any clearer. Wow, and I was all up in my head over him, too."
"Can we just take a moment to acknowledge how I told you that you still had feelings for Wonwoo?"
"We will do no such thing. Because the feelings are gone now!"
"Right. I believe you, Y/N," Karina deadpans over the phone, "You can call me when you're done being an idiot. Bye."
–
It's Karina's sarcastic tone that your thoughts catch onto the next few days, the ones you spend half in agony because Wonwoo hasn't contacted you and after your personal dilemma, you think you'd let someone shoot you before you texted him first.
So you try your best to distract yourself with work, showing up earlier than you'd built a reputation for, and staying a little later than most. It's a new routine for you, one that leaves you pretty tired in a way that your bones are not used to.
Maybe that's why your legs don't seem to be working that morning when you bump into someone on your way to the coffee machine. You'd been rubbing your neck, trying to feel out the knot that you'd woken up with, and had effectively lost track of where you were going and collided with a solid figure, sending a few steps back.
You sigh as you regain your balance, ever so thankful that you didn't fall flat on your butt as you look up at the person in front you. He's tall enough that you should've seen him coming so you're first to apologize. "Shit, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going. Sorry about that!"
"No, no, I should've been more careful. I'm lucky I wasn't carrying a coffee or that could've been really bad. I'm sorry." The man's voice is hoarse and he talks over himself, as if eager to get all his thoughts before he forgets what he's saying.
You meet his eyes with a small smile, "I guess we're both at fault, huh?"
He reciprocates your smile with crescent eyes. "Yup. Can I get you a coffee as reparation?"
"I mean, it's not a big deal at all."
"I insist," the man levels his gaze at you and you wonder how he looks like he could throw you across the room without breaking a sweat, but still manages to be so soft.
"I'm Mingyu, by the way," he tells you as he hands you a cup of warm coffee. "Thanks Mingyu. I'm Y/N."
"I've seen you around. You were a new hire, right?"
You take your time with a sip of your coffee before responding, "Yes, I was originally at another branch but my leader wanted me closer to headquarters before they opened up new branches in this city. I don't know, something exposure for me and experience for them."
"You must be good if they sent you here," Mingyu points out and you brush it off with a noncomittal shrug. You find yourself pleasantly enamoured by Mingyu for the next ten minutes or so and you wonder how you'd missed him at all in the first place. But when he tells you he better get going, you nod with a smile, "Of course. It was nice meeting you, Mingyu."
Mingyu becomes the perfect distraction, as one might predict he would. He has a unique charm, what with the contrast between his intimidating physique but surprisingly shy demeanour. He's the textbook golden retriever in people and though you're not a dog person, you find yourself grow fonder of him every time you run into him near the coffee machine or while leaving work in the elevator.
"You have a work crush?"
You groan loudly, throwing a half-eaten cracker at Joshua. "Come on, what is it with all the people I know and having the most childish vocabulary?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not erudite enough for you? You know it may not seem like it but I am four years older than you and I have that much more–"
"Yeah, yeah, something about experience and knowledge, I've heard it before. And by the way, it's technically three years and three months, not that I'm counting."
"You very clearly are," Joshua points out with a frustrated laugh, "Anyway, you gonna make a move on this guy?"
"No, because if you were actually listening to me, you'd have heard that I like him as a friend and that I need help buying a gift for his birthday."
"Right, right," your brother mumbles in thought, "And that's next week?"
You nod as you pick your phone up, scrolling through the chat with Mingyu to reach the text he'd sent you a day ago: by the way, i'm throwing for my birthday on the 6th. love it if you came ;)
Winky emoji and slightly short notice aside, you'd replied as enthusiastically as you could muster: your birthday??? when were you going to tell me!! and: ofc i'll be there but not before i make you suffer for hiding smth so imp from me :(((
Before you can squeeze any more vaguely helpful tips from Joshua, his bell rings and you sit up with a frown as he stands up to get it. "Ah, Wonwoo's here."
"Wonwoo?" is your shocked gasp to that information, body going stiff because you'd seen him only in passing since the day of the movie. You think you might pass out. Why does nobody think it's important to tell you anything these days?
You hear their voices in the corridor as Joshua lets Wonwoo in and your mind races with your options. Hiding in the bathroom for the night would be feasible if your brother wasn't a monster who would drag you out within thirty minutes. Maybe you climb out a window? But you were on the eight floor and as much as you liked to joke about death, you'd prefer to escape alive.
Your brother's voice breaks you out of your scheming, alerting you they're in the living room. "Oh yeah, Y/N, here's someone with not childish vocabulary if you want to replace me."
You look over your shoulder with a scowl but immediately lose your spirit when you lock eyes with Wonwoo, a lopsided smile greeting you. He's wearing a cozy sweater that's a shade of blue so dark that it might as well be black and you want to start crying because his hands are concealed beneath the sleeves, fists turned sweater paws as he stands there, looking between you and your brother.
"Why are you two fighting this time?"
"Nothing." "She has a crush at work."
Wonwoo lets out a sigh when you both answer simultaneously but seems intrigued by Joshua's statement, eyeing him. "What did you say?"
"She has a–"
"I'm warning you, if you say the word crush one more time, I will do something so unimaginable to your face at night–"
"She likes a guy from work."
Wonwoo looks surprised as he looks back at you inquisitively and you frown. "Untrue. It's just a guy I made friends with recently. And I only mentioned him so I could get advice but clearly, nobody here supports me so I'm going to take this conversation elsewhere."
"I support you." Wonwoo's quick response has you freezing in your dramatic exit and you turn to look at him in doubt but when his expression is clear of any mischief, you sit back down.
"Nice to know. But I'd love it if we talked about something else for now. Like dinner."
The night takes on a more comfortable journey from thereon, with the three of you ordering take-out and fighting it out with a card game while it was on its way. You were actually proud of yourself for acting normal around Wonwoo, despite all your past internal conflict. And you would've gone to sleep somewhat peacefully if he hadn't approached you in the kitchen, while Joshua was taking out trash, having lost the game.
You were placing the leftovers in the fridge when Wonwoo materialized behind you, the only warning of his presence the question he asks you, "You want any help?"
You barely hold in a surprised squeak as you spin around to him. "Goddamn it, Wonwoo, make some noise next time you sneak up on me?"
"Then I wouldn't be sneaking up on you, would I?"
You roll your eyes, closing the fridge behind you as you declare, "Well, I'm done here. Thanks for washing the dishes, by the way."
"Sure, I know how much you Hongs hate touching water. I was surprised you installed a faucet in your kitchen at all."
You give Wonwoo a push in response, "That's a very funny way to conceal the fact that you lost at rock paper scissors."
"I just think it was an unfair way to decide tasks. I'm really bad at that game."
"Right, and assuming one can be good or bad at a game of rock paper scissors, what else would you have preferred to play?"
Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with an idea and then, he puts up a hand and wiggles it around in your face. "Arm wrestling."
Your smile falls, "No. That's just–"
"See," he points at you, "That's how I feel about rock paper scissors."
Despite how much you claim that the two games are not at all on the same par, you let Wonwoo drag you to the kitchen table, standing across from you and arm ready for the wrestling. Slowly, you lean closer to him, hand coming to rest against his.
"Don't be too cocky," you mumble when his hand squeezes yours, already triumphant before the game had begun. The result of the game itself is pretty obvious but when you start to wrestle and feel Wonwoo's forearm tense against you, it has you light-headed. Your eyes leave the match to look at him, only to find him watching you with a glint in his eye. He smiles when you make eye-contact with him, going strangely silent for all his gloating a minute ago. You raise a brow at him and the bastard has the audacity to send a wink your way before pressing your arm against the wood of the table.
"Whatever," you tell him before his already obnoxious grin can swell any more. He opens his mouth and you're already anticipating something insulting to meet your eyes. But instead, Wonwoo says, "Your hand's so small." You look up at him only for him to take your hand in his and carefully line it against his own palm.
You feel your cheeks burn. It's all so cliché, especially if he's flirting with you. Arm-wrestling turns into a hand-measuring contest. So trite. And yet, you find yourself smiling.
"See?" your hand wriggles, imitiating Wonwoo from earlier, "This game was rigged. Maybe if you had a handicap or something."
"Okay, I think I better leave before you take a knife and cut my hand up or something…"
–
wonwoo: hello you
you: hi?
wonwoo: heard there's live music at the pub today. wanna come with?
you: ok creep
wonwoo: excuse me??? just informed you of a one in lifetime opportunity. shua's treating
you: WAIT he is???????
you: the one time i can't come?
wonwoo: you can't?
you: yes… have to attend a coworker's birthday party tonight. sorry :(
wonwoo: u should be sorry
wonwoo: imagine how much damage we could've done to joshua's wallet
You throw yourself into your sheets with a disappointed sigh, stomach uneasy at the thought of missing a hang-out with your favorite duo. But then you roll over to your side and think it's better if you go out with people who you didn't grow up with, for once. It might be a new experience. Just to be clear, this was Karina's voice resounding in your head. She had her way of giving you advice without you calling her for it.
Three hours later, you're tiring yourself out at Mingyu's birthday party. It's intense, the party, bustling with people but then again, you'd be a fool to think Mingyu wouldn't have a roster full of friends to invite to a party. You meet the man of the night an hour into the party and he throws his hands around when he recognizes you.
"Y/N, I'm so glad you could make it!"
"Of course. Happy birthday, Mingyu!"
He leans over the bar and yells something at the bartender who eyes Mingyu and upon recognizing him as the birthday boy, places two shots in front of you.
"Have a shot with me?" Mingyu grins, a slight layer of sweat shining on his forehead. You chuckle in defeat, "Sure, why not?"
A shot turns into two and you're working on swallowing the third one when your phone buzzes in the back-pocket of your denim shorts. You're about to take a look at the caller ID and decline almost immediately but when you realize it's Wonwoo calling you, you pause. You excuse yourself from Mingyu's side quickly, making your way to a slightly quieter cornern of the party and answer.
"Wonwoo?"
"Oh," comes Wonwoo's voice, a little distant, and he seems shocked as if he hadn't expected you to pick up. "Hey, Y/N. How are you?"
"Um. I'm fine, Wonwoo, just at that party I told you about. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. You're not too drunk, are you?" he asks, ironically slurring the question.
"I should be asking you that question. Wonwoo, where's Joshua? Do you need me to come pick you up?"
"No," his voice is laced with disbelief, "I'm fine. Just a little tipsy. Sorry, you should get back to the party."
"Yeah," you reply, feeling a little uneasy as the liquid in your stomach sloshes around with each movement you make.
"Stay safe, Y/N. Call me if you need anything? I'm gonna go find Shua now."
Before you can ask him what he means by finding Joshua, Wonwoo's hung up on you, almost as quickly as he called you. Okay, so that was weird. And cool, now you're nauseous.
–
When Wonwoo drunk-calls you, he thinks he's officially lost you. If you didn't find him weird before, you probably thought him a lot weird now. That's great, he thinks. But the regret of his decision doesn't outweigh the need to see you right now, something about the fact that you're at some guy's birthday party making him all worked up. It should be obvious why he's like this but Wonwoo can avoid a serious thought for days if it keeps him slightly more sane than usual.
But then the Joshua's bell rings and he opens the door, finding you standing there just like he'd imagined a few minutes ago. You're in a slouchy shirt that unbuttoned all the way to your mid-torso to reveal a black bikini top. He clears his throat to contain the thought that threatens to escape him: fuck, you look hot.
"Shit," you exclaim when you see Wonwoo, "This isn't my place. Ugh. I'm stupid."
Wonwoo steps closer to you, "Are you okay, Y/N? Did you just get back?"
You nod silently and then take a step back from him. "Sorry, I'm just gonna go to the right place. You can sleep… or whatever."
"Wait, no," he rushes to your side, taking your elbow in his hand, "I'll help you."
You roll your eyes, "It's okay, I'm not drunk, Wonwoo. And by the looks of it, neither are you." But you don't push off the hand on you and simply let him follow you to your door, "Is Shua already asleep?"
"Hmm, he passed out. I don't know why he claims to be heavyweight when he can barely handle alcohol. I had force him to leave the pub before he made himself sick."
You listen intently, unlocking the door with a hum, "He's an idiot." You throw the door open and Wonwoo lets himself in after you. He's clearly not too sober because when you bend down to take of your shoes and your ass juts out dangerously close to his crotch, he almost falls over in an attempt to jump away to give you space. But he remains close just in case you stumble, his own shaky state be damned.
But you're unnervingly stable as you stand back up, taking your hand off the wall when you're done taking your shoes off and brushing them against yourself with a suspicious look thrown at him– unnerving because Wonwoo just wants an excuse to get his hands on you somehow. You're effortlessly magnetic, moving across the hall to your kitchen to pour yourself some water, still unebelievably stable, and Wonwoo follows you in a trance-like manner.
"You want something to drink?"
Your question hangs in complete silence and it's only when you look over at Wonwoo that he comprehends that you're asking him. He clears his throat again, "Um, I don't want to bother you if you want to go to bed."
You raise a shoulder nonchalantly, "'M not sleepy. And you're here so we might as well hang." You disappear from his sight as you crouch down behind the counter, sliding open a shelf, "I have some shiraz I've been meaning to break open, if you're up for it?"
"Oh, that sounds great actually," he replies and you reappear with two wine glasses in your hand. You beam at him and he feels a thrill down his spine, recognizing the set you'd bought with him. "Great. Go sit in the living room and I'll be right there."
"No, I'll help you get the stuff."
You pause your movements toward the liquor shelf, "Come on, I thought it was clear I'm not drunk by now."
"I know," Wonwoo walks closer to you, picking up the glasses you'd set down earlier, "Just want to be here with you."
You turn back around and Wonwoo doesn't know it's to hide the flush that colors your face at his confession. You spend a minute too long picking out the shiraz to recover and you're glad Wonwoo also doesn't know that you could pick the bottle of red out without actually looking.
"Geez, I've got sand in my feet now," you complain as you take your first sip of the wine from your glass when you catch sight of the particles lodged in your toes.
"Sand?" questions Wonwoo as he leans over to get a look.
"Yeah, it was a beach-themed party," you tell him. He nods, thinking that your outfit makes a lot more sense now. "Mingyu's a silly guy for someone who's turning twenty-five."
"Mingyu, huh?" Wonwoo tries out the name, watching out for how you react. You don't give away much, simply taking another sip but your chest burns for reasons other than alcohol.
"Hmm, yeah."
"So do you like him? Joshua seems pretty convinced about it."
You hide your face against the couch, "Fuck Joshua. He's an idiot."
"So you've said."
"No, but really. Mingyu's a sweet guy and all, but he's… not my type."
Now this is something Wonwoo can work with, relief flooding his veins at your honest reply. "What is your type?"
You meet Wonwoo's gaze for the first time in this conversation and groan again. In your head, you can't help but be burdened by how unbelievably cliché your situation is. Your brother's best friend sitting next to you swirling a glass of red wine, asking you about the guy you liked when it was clearly him you liked. In fact, you think your entire relationship with Wonwoo's always been full of clichés: falling for his charm as a youth and growing into the feelings long after, hanging out with him as grown-ups, going on dates that are left unlabelled, measuring hands with him for fuck's sake– It was a little too on the nose, you think.
But you don't tell Wonwoo any of this, maybe because you're too scared to or maybe you'd liked to see the plot thicken a little. "I don't have a type."
Wonwoo is surprisingly quick to leave the topic alone after that and you're thankful, but half-irked because you'd hoped for more. But you can't complain when he has you wrapped up in a completely different conversation, distracting enough that you can barely remember how you finished the wine in your glass.
"Want a refill?" he asks you when the empty glasses have been sitting on the coffee table for long enough.
"Mhm, I think I'll have some apple juice instead."
"As you wish."
He doesn't even bother asking you where you keep your juice and takes off with the glasses to the kitchen. You watch him keenly, letting your heart lead your mind for a little as you take in how cozy the night is when you're in Wonwoo's company.
It's with that uncontrollable giddy smile on your face that Wonwoo catches you.
"Happy about something?" he asks, placing a cup with golden liquid in front of you and keeping his glass of wine next to it.
"Yeah. About everything. I'm happy."
Wonwoo smiles, arm reaching to your side and squeezing your hand in a way that leaves you thinking that you might actually like physical touch more than you've been led to think. "I like the sound of that."
Your smile only turns goofier. "What about you? Are you happy?"
He huffs out a breathy laugh, "I'm not too bad myself. Things have been looking up recently."
Fucking fuck, even everything you say to each other sounds like it's been said before, somewhere else in an idealistic movie about two people slowly falling in love with each other. But you can't get yourself to hate the idea so you simply shift closer to him.
Wonwoo notices, obviously, and smiles a little because he notices the light dusting of red on your cheeks. Your hair's come undone from what was presumably a low bun at the back of your head and he has an itch to brush the strands away from your face– a thought that if you were privy to would only be an addition the list titled reasons why wonwoo and you are a straight-up cliché.
But you find out soon anyway, because Wonwoo acts on the itch, hand coming to cup your face before a few fingers find the crown of your head, gently tucking the stray hair behind your ear.
You hum in satisfaction and Wonwoo's heart hammers, thinking that is probably the best reaction he could've hoped for. He takes a sip of the wine in his hand and moves to rest his face on his fist.
Except you intercept him mid-way, closing the space between you with a noise of surprise that Wonwoo lets out when he feels your warm lips against his. The shock causes the wine in his mouth to bleed into yours, just like you'd hoped, and before Wonwoo can act on your advance, you've already pulled back.
Your smile is warm with shyness when you notice the starstruck expression on Wonwoo's face. "Sorry, I wanted to taste the wine."
Wonwoo's silent as he processes this, moving slower thanks to the wine in his sytsem and now– the feeling of your kiss on his mind. When he does break from the silence, he moves to take another sip of wine and this time it's him crossing over to you, big palm steadying your jaw so he can spill into you, literally and not. You let out a little noise this time, not expecting him to reciprocate your shameless move but delighted anyway as you move against his mouth.
There's a third kiss. And you pull away with a dreamy sigh because really, this was straight out of your dreams. Wonwoo rests his head on his hand like he'd intended to about three kisses earlier and watches as you avert your gaze, suddenly bashful. You fix your gaze on the coffee table, proud that you'd finally chosen to place it opposite the couch instead of near the bookshelf.
"I haven't dated anyone for a while, you know," Wonwoo suddenly blurts out, your hair once again in your face when you turn to face him. "I was in a pretty… fucked-up relationship after high school and that made me give up on love altogether."
You listen attentively, eyes on his as he tells about the person he was with, voice dropping to a soft octave. When he finishes you find his hands with a smile, "Thank you for telling me that. And I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than that. You're a pretty solid guy."
"Really?" Wonwoo's mood turns light again at your comment and you try to maintain your composure, reminding yourself that his smile might be casual but your words still hold weight.
"Yeah, you're a rare find, Wonwoo. Quiet but not boring, witty yet funny, tall but nice to hug."
You bite your lip at that last part, clearly giving yourself away. But Wonwoo's eyes light up anyway, "Nice to hug, huh? That's a new compliment. Glad to know."
You can feel him lean closer to you without looking because his voice is closer to your ears. Flustered, you reach for your abandoned apple juice and take a sip, but overestimate your own sobriety because you manage to spill a third of it on yourself. "Fuck," you curse under your breath and throw your head back against the couch in frustration over yourself.
"Fuck," Wonwoo echoes you, shifting beside you, "You okay? Wait here, I'll get you a towel." He's already standing up by the time you have it in you to find your footing. You stop him with a slightly damp hand on his arm.
"It's okay, I'll just go throw this in the laundry. Needed to change anyway."
Wonwoo nods as he makes way so you can pad lightly to your room, ears adorably red. He lets out a heavy breath when you close the door behind you though, placing a hand against chest because the sight of your half-exposed chest slightly wet with juice– well, it was doing more things to him that he'd like. Your low expletive followed by your limp body hadn't helped his wild imagination either, instantly wondering what it might be like to run his hands through–
"All right, that's it. I need some fresh air." Fresh air so he could feel less like a pervert and more like… normal. And it helps to step out onto your balcony, the scenery of the moonlit night a pleasant surprise to his senses. He hums happily, almost forgetting about his preoccupied thoughts entirely.
And then he hears your voice resound in the living room faintly. He calls out your name, telling you to come out to the balcony, and a minute later, you step out, now clad in a cozy night set, matching blue shirt with shorts. "Hey," you mumble as you join him near the railing, body visibly relaxing in the night air. "Woah, it's nice here."
"It is, isn't it?"
"Yeah, this is actually my first time coming out here since I moved in. I always figured this place would be full of spider webs and like bird shit."
Wonwoo chuckles, "I mean we're probably standing on something that's not supposed to be here but it's for us to worry about tomorrow."
–
When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a good amount of groaning and screaming to figure out if last night was real. Taking shots with Mingyu at his birthday bash? Understandable. Receiving a call from a self-proclaimed tipsy Wonwoo? Confusing but not impossible. Inviting Wonwoo over for wine and ending up making out with him? Insane.
What's worse, you couldn't really remember how the night had ended, a consequence of your inebriated self combining with sleep deprivation. But that was a pretty important thing to remember, wasn't it? It could be difference between a regretful farewell and a promising one. You don't know which one would ease the storm in your stomach faster.
You roll over to unlock your phone and sit up when you see you have two unread texts. And then, you see they're both from Mingyu.
mingyu: thanks for coming last night :D
mingyu: sorry i couldn't see u out. hope you made it home safe!
You sigh in barely contained disappointment as you throw your phone back into the sheets, looking up at the ceiling. You suppose you ought to do something about the Mingyu situation soon but right now, you find the idea of suffocating in your bedsheets for the next two hours much more comforting.
–
See now, this right here is your problem. As much as you complained about hating being a cliché, you kind of wish your situation with Wonwoo was more of a cliché because right now doesn't exactly feel like something out of a film.
It feels like hard cold reality. And it's not the first time either.
1: things will happen between you and Wonwoo: he holds your hand, he kisses your lips.
2: he doesn't text you about it and you're too much of a coward to force him out of his shell.
3: things end up all in the air. And now, you're miserable.
But later that evening, you find out there's more to this list of not-so-cliché things that happen between you and Wonwoo.
4: you run into Wonwoo at your brother's place.
He's so casual, too, dressed in a plaid shirt and lounging on Joshua's couch, gaming his time away. You almost immediately regretting making an impromptu trip to your brother's place but it's too late to back out because Joshua's already set the dinner table for three. How you despise your extroverted, loving brother.
"Did you make that deadline you were complaining about yesterday?" Joshua asks you over a spoonful of his soup. You nod, "Yeah, turns out it was easier when I stopped whining about it."
Wonwoo lets out a laugh, earning him a look from you which you quickly retract, going back to your quiet self when the two engage in conversation. You're glad to ignore but they find it less than easy to, given how unusual your disengagement is. Wonwoo does have an idea for your mood but he doesn't feel like discussing it with your brother just yet.
So when Joshua asks him, "Do you know what's up with her?" when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, Wonwoo stiffens. Why was he asking Wonwoo? … Had he been obvious?
"Dunno. Maybe work's busy or something."
"You think I should go pester her with some ice-cream later tonight?"
"Best if you don't do that. She might disown you."
"That's like legally impossible, Wonwoo. Right?"
When you take an unexpectedly long time in the bathroom, Joshua goes on. "Did something happen between you two?"
Again, Wonwoo tenses up. "...No. Why do you ask?"
"I mean, she seemed fine yesterday when she came over. So I don't think I'm the problem here. Not that I'm accusing you of anything. Just… I know y'all have been bonding recently."
Wonwoo averts his gaze, deeply uncomfortable with this chat. "Um, yeah, I guess."
"Listen, man, I don't mean to take on the older brother tone in this conversation or anything but…" Joshua sighs as he plays with a leftover piece of bread, "You know I'm okay if something does happen with you and her, right? I trust you. And well, she was an adult long before me so I hardly have a say there."
Wonwoo stares at his half-empty glass of water, frowning. "Okay, cool." His answer is curt because he's still caught off-guard by this conversation. He'd wanted to bring up the developments between you himself, in his own way, but this left him a little panicked. Like, he was being rushed to make a move. And his brain ended up shutting down in the process.
…but it really wasn't the best time for his malfunction, given that you'd managed to overhear a good half of that conversation, specifically on the Joshua asking Wonwoo about you and him being indifferent about it. What was he thinking? What were you thinking?
5: you storm out of dinner without an explanation. you pretend you don't hear wonwoo call after you when you do. his texts that night go unanswered.
How's that for a cliché, huh?
–
These days, you're trying find the joy in small things. Like waking up to your very first alarm for the morning. Or brewing an especially aromatic coffee at home.
Like making it to the end of a phone-call with Karina without talking about Wonwoo.
"Oh, wait, before I forget to ask, how did it go with Wonwoo?"
Almost.
You take a deep breath to steady yourself, "Not too well. I mean, we kissed. But then, he didn't text me for like three days after. Then I run into him at Joshua's and he acts all… cold. And judging by that one conversation I overheard, he thinks everything that happened between us was a mistake."
"Okay, okay, hold your horses, friend, I feel like a lot happened there. You kissed? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?!" Karina sounds genuinely upset and you let out a groan.
"Well, I was trying to stop bringing up Wonwoo every time we catch up. It's annoying and I want to hear more about your life than complain about mine."
"We can both complain about our lives, Y/N. I have all the time in the world. At least till six. Anyway, that's besides the point! You kissed but he ghosted you afterward? And did he actually say he thought it was all a mistake?"
You bite your lip in rumination and then admit, "He didn't actually say that but it was implied. You would agree if you'd heard the same conversation as I!"
As it turns out, Karina doesn't seem to approve of the conclusion you've come to all on your own. But then you point out that it's been over a week and it's been radio silence. So you have every right to feel as hurt as you do.
"I suppose you do. But still, it wouldn't hurt to approach him first."
"I would rather die."
"Okay, well, maybe find out how he's doing from Joshua?"
"Will not."
"You're being difficult right now, Y/N. What do you want to do then?"
"I want to move on and not think about Wonwoo. Maybe I should go on a blind date or something."
"We're not in a movie right now, man, plus, I'm pretty sure you were the one who swore your life to finding love organically and whatnot."
"...Gah, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that. Fine, I'll do… something."
Your words are nothing if not misleading because by something, you don't mean to communicate with Wonwoo like a sane person might. Instead you check up on Mingyu, who you've still been succesfully making small talk at work with, and ask him if he wanted to get dinner. The enthusiasm with which he responds is comforting, a relieving contrast from the tension in your relationship with you-know-who.
mingyu: omg i woud love to
mingyu: but im unfortuntely busy tonight :((((
mingyu: would you be down for tomorrow? i can make some killer spaghetti if given the opportunity
you: make???? i was thinking of buying the food… but i won't turn that offer down
mingyu: i'm a man of many talents ;)
You work out the details of the date (neither of you call it that, but it's understood to be one) over the night and you feel a little uneasy as the afternoon of the day comes to a close. Either way, you find a comfortable dress that is flattering against your skin and welcome Mingyu into your place, letting his excitement work its contagious magic.
If you're following the plot line of this story closely, you'd figure out that the next cliché is this: Wonwoo behind the door across from your home, just now learning about this date of yours with Mingyu.
He's broken his pledge to himself and asked Joshua about you, after having missed seeing you there for the past week. Joshua had hesitated to respond but is honest anyway, muttering, "I think she has a date over."
"A date?" is Wonwoo instantaneous question, barely-concealed dread underlying in its tone.
"Yeah, remember that guy from work whose birthday she attended?" Joshua pretends to have forgotten his name but his best friend is quick to chime in, "Mingyu?"
But you'd told him he was just a friend. You'd called him sweet for fuck's sake, and that was the most platonic adjective you could use for a potential love interest. Well, he's been proven wrong by your date tonight.
He looks down at his clasped palms, the same ones that were intertwined with your skin, first the skin of your hands, then your cheek when he'd leaned into kiss you. And if he hadn't spent the last four days regretting every minute he didn't call you up, he sure did want to punch a hole in the fabric of time right about now.
"You okay there, buddy?"
Joshua's concern brings Wonwoo back to his body and he looks up, lips pursed and your brother thinks how ridiculous it is that both of you won't just talk it out. But he keeps that judgement to himself, choosing to sit back and watch his best friend pace it out.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Fine. Really fine. I'm okay." He clears his throat, the first tell. "I'm just… um, a little hot. It's hot in here, huh."
Joshua tames his bemused smile. "Is it? I just turned up the air-con though?"
"Oh, well, it's just me then. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, um, I love this video game."
"Wonwoo, we were in the middle of choosing a card game to play."
"Fuck. Okay, sorry, just give me a minute, I need to go call… my mother."
"No worries, my guy, give Mrs. Jeon my greetings!"
Across the hall, you're busy watching over Mingyu as he makes his way around your kitchen. You say watching over because really, the man is so clumsy in his own feet, you wonder how he's lived this long. You have to make sure he doesn't cut a limb off every two seconds.
But then your phone buzzes urgently in your pocket and you pull it out, the light smile playing on your face falling when Wonwoo's name pops up on your screen. Now he texts you?
wonwoo: hey! you think we could talk?
You lock your screen almost as soon as you read the message because honestly, you don't have time to dwell over this man in your phone when there's a whole another person cooking you dinner in front of you. That's what ends up leaving a heartbroken Wonwoo, slumped on Joshua's couch as he barely zones into the movie that was playing on the screen.
Joshua's had it with sitting around when Wonwoo stays unmoving throughout the ending credits– the man hates the credits for crying out loud!-- and instead decides to play cupid. It wasn't ideal, having to set up his sister with his best friend but well, any commoner could see how clearly you were meant to be with each other and he'd rather not have to listen to both sides' misery.
It's okay timing, you've finished eating dinner with Mingyu, showering his food with compliments the whole time and flustering with your genuine shock at his abilities the whole night. He's helping you clean up with a cheeky grin on his face whenever he leans in a little too close to place a utensil back in its place and you let a smile overtake your face. But you can barely let yourself enjoy the date because if Wonwoo ill-timed text wasn't enough, you're done for when both him and Joshua show up at your door.
"What the fuck?" you ask your brother because you're positive you told him you had a date tonight and then you spot a spaced out Wonwoo next to him, and suddenly put two and two together.
Wonwoo's eyes never leave your figure, taking in how beautiful the blue dress you were wearing was and how you'd put your hair up in a half-bun, a few strands framing your face prettily. He feels sick, first in a good way and then Mingyu pops up behind you, and now Wonwoo's sick in a bad way. The tall man looks so comfortable next to you, arm brushing against yours as he raises his eyebrows in confusion at the two intruders.
"Sorry, Gyu, these are…" you start to introduce them as they are and then, find a particularly provoking way to put it, "...my brothers."
Wonwoo might actually throw up right here and right now. Gyu? Brothers???
Joshua butts in quickly, "Well, technically, I'm Y/N's older brother, and this is Wonwoo, my friend."
"Ohhh," Mingyu nods in understanding, bowing when he realizes Joshua's your sibling, "Nice to meet you. I'm Mingyu and I work with Y/N."
Before you know it, Joshua works his charms on Mingyu and suddenly, date night for two turns into family night for four. You watch in dismay as your date spends a full hour talking to your brother about one thing and another, actually considering setting them up for a minute. And then, Mingyu glances at his watch and sighs, telling you he needs to take off.
Joshua, devil incarnate, offers to walk Mingyu out and before you can protest, Mingyu accepts (????) and you watch helplessly as your brother leaves you alone with Wonwoo, narrowly missing the pointed look Joshua sends his best friend on his way out.
The room now silent with them gone, you stand up with a wary sigh, patting down your dress. Wonwoo's watching and you know because the first words he says that evening are, "You look beautiful tonight."
You hate how the heat creeps up your neck immediately at his beck and call. But you keep from telling him off because even that would mean you caving in.
But then he follows you to the kitchen, steps in tandem as you pretend to busy yourself with the dishes. The space between you is small though and you end up bumping into the man trying to reach for the fridge. He takes the chance and holds your wrist in his hand. "Hey," he breathes, "You won't even look at me?"
"No, I've seen enough."
"I'm assuming that includes the text I sent you tonight. And the ones before that?"
God, you hate how good Wonwoo is at frustrating you. You snap, "Don't act like this is on me, Wonwoo. You're the one who pretends like nothing's happened between us."
"Really? Because a lot's happened between us, Y/N. A lot of things that haven't happened with you and that Mingyu."
You scoff, brushing his hand off your wrist. "That is so typical of you. Coming around because you're jealous? But you can't stand to tell my brother something happened between us? What is this, a game to you?"
Wonwoo freezes when he considers what you've said. "Did Shua say something to you?"
You cross your arms, "No. I overheard you telling him. I can't believe it though. I really thought we had something good going for us."
You break away from the arm that Wonwoo raises to keep you close and throw yourself onto your couch with an exasperated sniffle. This couch sure has seen a lot, you think wistfully, silently listening as Wonwoo's footsteps came closer. He's sitting next to you then, hesitant arm around you.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm really sorry. What you heard was… me being an idiot. I wasn't ready to talk about it with Shua so soon. I meant everything happened so fast. I hadn't exactly planned on falling for my best friend's sister, you know? Or kissing her in her apartment either. But it happened and I'm so glad it did. I was just slow at processing it. I'm sorry."
You groan. "It's not completely your fault, I guess. I just wish you would've talked to me about it. I felt so alone the whole time."
Suddenly Wonwoo's moving up from next to you and dropping onto his knees so that you're now meeting his eyes. He looks concerned, mouth ajar as he takes your hands in his. "Are you with Mingyu?"
You let out a sound of disbelief, "No! I'm– I just called him over because I was mad at you! I thought you thought it was a mistake so I…"
"I don't. And I never did. I'm just scared. But I shouldn't have made that your problem. I love hanging out with you though and I especially love kissing you. It would be great if you'd let me take you out on a date instead, please?"
And in that moment with Wonwoo on his knees in front of you, looking at you like you'd just told him he would live forever, you don't think you could do anything but say yes.
–
"You think we're a cliché?!"
You flinch at Wonwoo's shocked question after you'd revealed to him the mental list of clichés that you embodied in your relationship with him. He's nearly seething when he finds out you're not joking.
"Y/N, you know that's the meanest thing you could ever say to me? Am I really that bad a boyfriend?"
"Woo, my love, will you calm down?" you take one of his hands in yours, "I don't think clichés are as bad as you think they are. They're cliché for a reason! It's because they're meant to be done over and over again. They're tried and true."
"Tried and trite, more like."
"Come on, Woo, you can't act like you don't see it! From the very beginning!"
He takes a lick at his gelato and you smile when you see him softening a little. You stop walking and stand in his way, barely concerned about the strangers littering the small ice-cream shop when you press a kiss to his lips. "I love you," you mumble against his ice-cold mouth. He shoots you a look that informs you that he knows what you're doing but he shoots back, " I love you, too."
"And love itself is cliché, don't you think?"
Wonwoo closes his eyes as if in physical pain while you uncontrollably laugh. "I knew I shouldn't have fallen for that! You're trying to make me cry in public, aren't you?"
"Aww, it's okay to cry, Woo, baby. Emotions are only natural–"
"I'm calling Shua and asking him to pick you up. I'm leaving."
"Okay, I went too far. Don't make me commute with my brother, I beg you."
–
"Love, you ready to go?" you hear Wonwoo ask from the living room. You'd banished him to the couch after he'd made it his life mission to get in your way while you tried to get ready for your date. Well, double date actually. Karina was visiting you on break with her boyfriend, Taeyong, and she'd asked if you'd be down to get dinner with them. You had never agreed to dinner plans faster.
"I am," you call back, just as you smear on lipstick, checking your teeth for any missed food particles for good measure. "Can I come in now?"
You can see Wonwoo's silhouette at the door, gingerly watching you from the back for confirmation. You melt with a soft smile, beckoning him in, "Yes. Your exile's over."
Wonwoo celebrates with an exaggerated fist pump and you laugh at his antics when he skips over excitedly. "I'm a free man," he murmurs as his hands naturally slide down your arms to find your fingers. He twirls you around, admiring the black dress you broke out for the ocassion. "You look gorgeous," he says with a kiss to your cheeks.
"Are you quoting Taylor Swift at me?" you ask him with a giggle.
"Who's that?" he questions with a poorly feigned frown of confusion. You roll your eyes but open your arms invitingly, "Will you hug me?"
Hugging had gradually become your favorite part of your skinship with Wonwoo, even more so than kissing, because the way he would shoot you a loving smile before wrapping his arms around and swallowing you into a world of cozy and comfort… yeah, you don't think anything could compare easily. Sometimes, he would hum happily, the vibrations would only soothing you into the embrace further and often your boyfriend had to peel you off him so you could actually get on with your day.
Today, he lets you cling on longer than usual (he likes to say he's rationing his hugs. You tell him he's just a big tease), probably because he's busy relishing in being overwhelmed by your scent and the little kisses you sprinkle across his exposed neck. When he pulls away, you don't complain like normal, instead revealing the stars in your eyes to him. "You're warm. I love this sweater of yours."
It was the same navy sweater that had you sweating over Wonwoo back when you were still going back and forth with your feelings for each other. He chuckles in amusement and then steps away without warning, earning a whine from you. But then he tugs the sweater off and your expressions turns playful.
"Woo," you start warningly, "you know we're meeting them at the restaurant by nine–"
You're stopped mid-sentence when Wonwoo straightens out his garment and commands out, "Raise your arms for me, baby?"
But this is not his bedroom voice, no, no. This is his sappy voice and you already know what he's doing when he pulls the sweater over your head and down your torso. "It looks cute," Wonwoo comments by the time you have the sleeves pulled down properly.
"You know I hate that word, Woo," you complain but he doesn't let you, pecking your forehead. You sigh in defeat and admire the sweater in the mirror, the fabric sitting surprisingly well against the skirt of your dress. You shrug, "I suppose I can work with this new outfit."
"If not, I can always just take it off for you–"
"Okay, we're leaving before you say another word!"
Wonwoo laughs as he lets you pull him out after you, out the living room and into the hallway. He stands next to you, hands in his pocket while he waits for you to lock the door and glances at Joshua's door, wondering what his best friend was up to. You don't give a chance to do something about it though because your hands back on his arm in no time – and he swears you touch his arm for reasons beyond appropriate but you'd rather die than admit to it– and walk into the night.
You meet Karina at a place called Love in the Air and Wonwoo's had listen to you go on, super smug, about how beautifully cliché the name and ambience of the restaurant is. Each dish has a romantic origin, like the shall I compare thee to a summer's day cocktail that Karina and Taeyong share, down to the lipstick-shaped bottles of wine served to your table. And as much as Wonwoo pretends to hate the cliché of love, he still orders the matching Valentine's soup as you just so you can watch his order come out in surprise.
And as much as Wonwoo pretends he doesn't love the cliché of love, when you lean into his arm at the end of the night, already dozing off when he runs his fingers through your scalp, he can't help but let his heart soar with affection for you. And he thinks he would, after all, be in a cliché if it means to end up in your arms night after night.
--
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
hiii oh my god why is this fic actually long!!! i wrote in like a day too so i'm just confused... it was 3k a minute and then 29 pages the other?? that's just wonwoo magic or smth i guess... this was requested and i hope the anon who asked for this enjoys it!!! writing it made a lil sick because of how sappy it is but ... it is what it is.
and consider this me admitting that i wouldn't mind having joshua be my brother... and that's just the flavor of parasocial relationship i'm dealing with these days lol
as always: lots of love to all friends and foes !!
Jeon Wonwoo is not dull, nor is he the clean and polite neighbor that your mother assumed he was when she set you up on this awful date.
or the one where wonwoo takes you home on the first date and renders you unable to walk, hoping to god that you don’t expose him to your parents.
ao3 | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.
WORDCOUNT― 8.8k
PAIRING― wonwoo x afab reader
CONTENT― strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, reader is a teacher but this is not a school setting, mocking and making fun, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky wonwoo, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed
WARNINGS― small mention of other teachers cheating on their spouses (very tiny mention), the resistance of pressure to fall in love/have children
NOTE― I repurposed an old wip for this because putting this mf in the main role hit harder than it should have. that being said, don’t expect me to write men often like this, i just thought it would be neat to make him take control. this is not proof read.
GENRE(S): smut, fluff, rivals to lovers, college au
SUMMARY: you wish jeon wonwoo would sometimes act like an insufferable prick instead of the perfect guy, because then you wouldn't have to feel your head spinning each time he looks at you.
WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, fingering, use of petnames (baby, good girl), praise, some degradation, sex in an empty classroom] wonwoo is so in love
Class discussions where both Wonwoo and you are involved never end well.
Partly, it’s because none of you possess the ability of backing down from a fight, but mostly it’s because of Wonwoo’s annoying tendencies of having read all the books in the world, which allows him to criticize every word that comes out of your mouth.
Which again leaves you with no choice but to get angry and argue even more vividly — though Soonyoung claims that’s just your own stubbornness making matters worse.
He doesn’t get it, though. The desire to beat Wonwoo at his own game each time he opens his mouth. It’s something you can’t entirely explain, but it keeps you grounded, and so you don’t question it too much. The adrenaline that comes along with it is enough for you.
And that’s exactly what keeps you going today — Wonwoo’s annoying takes on social anthropology.
“I just don’t think cultural differences are the root of conflicts.”
He says this and shrugs, eyes subconsciously drifting to the side to look at you. As expected, you’re already raising your hand to comment on his statement and he has to fight the urge to smile. Despite coming in tired, eyes drooping, you’re eager to partake in a discussion with him. Always. It’s a little too reassuring to think about, so he stops, and instead focuses on what you’re saying.
“That’s a baseless claim to make,” you scoff, and again, he feels his lip twitch, almost forming a smile. “Of course they are. No differences means nothing to fight about.”
“Yes, in theory,” he says, and his eyes crinkle with the smile he offers you. A smile you can’t seem to tell if is cocky or genuine. “But cultural differences aren't everything. If we don’t have culture, people will still form opinions. And those opinions will still become the roots of conflicts.”
With those words, he crosses his arms over his chest, his elbow bumping into you.
You’re not sure who came up with the idea of the two of you sitting together in the classroom, but moments like these make you want to find that person and rip their hair out. Because in what universe should you have to argue with Jeon Wonwoo while his shoulder is literally touching yours?
It’s stupid, unethical, and every other derogatory term you can come up with, but most of all, it’s making it hard to focus. Obviously, it’s not about him, it’s about the closeness itself. You think. Probably.
You lean a bit to your left so you can actually think of a response, but end up sighing and asking a question instead.
“So you’re saying conflicts are inevitable?”
He tongues his cheek – a sign that he’s in deep thought – and bumps his elbow into you again. An accident, probably, but it catches your attention nevertheless.
“I’m saying disagreements become conflicts because we can’t handle our emotions. It’s not differences that are the problem, it’s our way of handling them.”
And there it is — that twinkle in his eyes that signalizes he knows he’s won. You know it, too, from the way he leans back into his chair and your words die down in your throat and the professor nods his head approvingly. Still, you wish he wouldn’t be so fucking happy about it.
“Asshole,” you mumble only loud enough for him to hear as you sink back into the chair.
He chuckles and you feel your insides turn. God, he’s annoying. Super annoying.
Especially when he leans a bit to your side of the desk, face a lot closer to yours than it needs to be when he whispers, “Good job.”
You glare at his soft expression, your own face heating up in something resembling embarrassment.
“No need to gloat about your success, dickhead.”
“I’m not gloating,” he frowns, the smile slowly fading from his face.
“Sure you aren’t. You’re just kindly reminding me that you’re better than me.”
“That’s not what– That’s not true.”
His voice falters, and he leans back in his chair and taps his pen against the desk. You scoff at him, but it’s nowhere as threatening as you’d like it to be — thrown off by the quiver in his tone.
“It is true,” you whisper, more to yourself, and avert your gaze from him.
The professor picks up where he left off, and you let your thoughts scatter and eyes drift closed. It’s been a long day, you think. Thankfully, the professor’s got you and Wonwoo placed in the back, and so he doesn’t notice it when you manage to fall asleep in your chair, head falling to the side.
Wonwoo notices, though. Your cheek squished against your shoulder, hair in your face. It’s not the first time you’ve fallen asleep in class, and he should probably start scolding you for it, but seeing your under eye bags and hearing your tired voice makes something turn unpleasantly in his stomach. And so he lets you sleep.
(It’s all because of his perceptiveness.
You know about this trait of his, and it’s awful. How he hands you a pen when you’ve forgotten your own without you having to ask for it. How he knows when to shut up during an argument, because your face tells him he’s won. How he never feels the need to embarrass you, or anyone, for that matter.
He’s a good person in and out, and you hate him for it.)
It’s not before the class is nearing its end that Wonwoo decides to wake you.
“Y/N,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and then a deep voice hits your ears. Wonwoo’s voice, you realize instantly, and then criticize your heart for jumping at the thought. “You might wanna wake up for this.”
“Huh?”
Wonwoo’s smiling at you softly, and you sit up straight, confused. At least until you see your professor clutching his phone against his ear, muttering aggressively.
“His wife called,” Wonwoo explains in a hushed tone, leaning towards you so you hear him better. “I feel kinda bad for the guy. She doesn’t seem to like him very much.”
You rub your eyes and yawn, then realize Wonwoo is sitting right there, and clear your throat.
“Maybe he’s an asshole.”
“Maybe,” he turns to look at you. “Girls like assholes, though, don’t they?
Your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily. You’re not sure whether it’s from the question or from the way he’s looking at you – like he’s already got you all figured out – but it’s making you nervous. All of it, him. And now that you’re discussing a topic you’re not certain about, it shows.
You chuckle nervously, “Where’d you get that from?”
“You, mostly.”
“Excuse me?”
He offers you a smile, one that you subconsciously accept by feeling your insides turn to mush. This has got to be the longest you’ve spoken to him without mutual friends around, and without arguing. Truthfully, you don’t hate it. You’d never have thought that this would be the topic of your first ever civil conversation, though.
“Minghao? Seungkwan? Your type’s pretty obvious.”
“Do you spy on me or something?” you ask, a little baffled he knows the names of your previous boyfriends. You weren’t hiding it or anything, but Wonwoo’s never shown much interest in you outside of class. “Plus, that was months ago.”
He fixes his glasses and tilts his head to the side.
“Yeah? And what type of guys do you like now?”
You open your mouth to answer, but the words die down in your throat. Not assholes, you could say. He’s sparked your curiosity, though — what type of guys do you like now? Because you know for a fact that you’re done with assholes, which is why you’ve been trying your hardest to classify Wonwoo as one up until now.
“I–”
You’re saved from answering his question by your professor, who’s successfully hung up on his wife and is now announcing that class is over.
A sigh of relief escapes past your lips — another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo, but he doesn’t push. He simply gathers his stuff, his pen that you borrowed included, and slings his bag over his shoulder. You smile at him, softly, a little hesitantly, because it feels right to do so.
His glasses rest at the tip of his nose as he stands up and says, “See you around, Y/N.”
Then, he walks off and you no longer fight the smile that makes its way to your face.
—
“Okay, so I think we all know why this meeting is being held.”
This is the first thing Soonyoung says as he sits down by the round table in the cafeteria, latte almost spilling out of his cup. You and Minjeong perch up in curiosity, and she puts her phone away in favor of commenting Soonyoung’s poor word choices.
“Meeting? It’s our lunch break, dude.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at Minjeong who snickers. “This lunch break is being held because–”
“–Because we need to eat?” you raise a brow.
“Y/N, you are literally in no position to act all smart right now. It’s you that we need to talk about.”
“Me?”
You look to Minjeong, but she only shrugs, meaning that this is a Soonyoung thing. You try racking your brain to find what the hell he might want to discuss, but nothing comes to you. Not even when Soonyoung offers you one of his signature smirks that signalize he’s up to no good.
“You, and hot nerd Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your mouth falls open in genuine shock. “Wonwoo?”
“Did you just call him ‘hot nerd’?” Minjeong slaps her hand over her mouth as she laughs, but stops when she sees you glaring at her. “Damn, okay, someone’s defensive.”
“Yes, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung leans over the table, hands together on the table like some sort of Hollywood detective. “What’s the deal with you and him?”
“What deal?” you look to the side for some help, but all Minjeong offers you is a smirk. She’s enjoying this a little too much for your liking. “Why are you looking at me like that? There’s no deal. We don’t get along, that’s all.”
“You sure looked like you got along yesterday,” Soonyoung giggles like a little schoolgirl, and you feel your face heating up. Of course he noticed, even though you barely talked with Wonwoo for three minutes. “Also, have you seen how he looks at you?”
“Like he wants to kill me?”
“Like he wants to kiss you. You’re mistaking passion for hate, babe. Or maybe you’re just pretending, because there’s no way you’re not seeing how cute you are together.”
“Me and Wonwoo?” you ask again, incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way.”
“You have to admit, he’s pretty hot,” Minjeong cuts in. “Plus, you guys have, like, undeniable chemistry.”
“The only chemistry me and him share is the class. Which already sucks enough.”
“You know what they say, denial is a river in egypt.”
“Nobody says that, Minjeong,” you glare at her, deciding that it’s better to get out of here before you start doubting yourself. “Anyway, I gotta go to class, so get those Wonwoo delusions out of your heads, okay? Because that’s what this is — delusion.”
“Funny you had to clarify that.”
“Just because you’re insufferable,” you send them a painfully fake smile and grab your things so you can walk away, almost missing the words Soonyoung mutters under his breath.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
—
Usually, you can’t be found in the university’s backyard ripping your hair, but usually, you also don’t fail your chemistry exams.
You might be acting a tad bit dramatic, running out of class and sitting down on the grass with your back pressed against the stone cold wall to cool off, but that’s something to worry about later. Right now you’re just focused on feeling sorry for yourself. Which you are. To a very high degree.
“Are you okay?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion to your self-wallowing, turning around only to be met with a familiar face. His glasses are high up on his nose and his hair is neat, smile lines nowhere to be seen.
“Wonwoo?” you ask, a bit embarrassed that he’s seeing you in this state, especially when he looks so put together. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I read here every free period,” he says, frowning. “It’s you that should be in class right now.”
“Do you have my schedule memorized or something?” you look at him accusingly, pulling your legs closer to your chest for comfort. “Anyway, I’m just sitting here.”
Wonwoo’s silent for a moment, pondering on what to do, and then he takes a step in your direction. You don’t run away or protest, so he takes another one and another one until he’s close enough to sink down on the grass next to you.
“You look more like you’re drowning in sadness.”
“Yeah, well, I failed an exam, so,” you say and hand him the paper your hands gripped just a moment ago — your test with every mistake highlighted in red. The whole sheet might’ve just been red at this point, you think.
He examines it, brows furrowed, then hands it back. “Chemistry? I thought you were good at that, though.”
Your heart falters in embarrassment.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. That’s why I’m fucking sad.”
You don’t mean for it to sound so angry, but it comes out harsh and bitter. It’s nothing like Wonwoo’s used to hearing you speak. And what comes after shocks him even more — the tears that well up in your eyes and then fall, he can see them even as you turn away from him, perhaps in fear of judgement.
“Wait,” he says, a little dumbfounded. “Are you crying?”
It’s a stupid question, but his tone isn’t judging. Still, it doesn't ease anything — you feel like you’re about to explode. And what’s worse is that he’s here, Jeon Wonwoo, of all people, watching you cry over something so miniscule that he probably can’t even relate to. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much that he’s seeing you in this state, but it does, it really does bother you, so much you feel like you might die.
“Yes, I’m crying, Wonwoo,” you say, wiping your cheeks to your best ability. “Jesus christ. I did badly on a test, so I already feel like shit, and then you always have to come up to me with those stupid comments of yours.”
He blinks in surprise from behind his glasses, and even through your bitterness, you think to yourself that he looks cute like that — confused, for the very first time. At least it’s the very first time you are seeing him like this. But, to be fair, this is his very first time seeing you like this, too.
“I thought you liked it when I'm mean to you, though,” he says finally, and you look at him in disbelief.
“Wonwoo, are you seriously just here to imply I have a degradation kink?”
He remains silent for a minute, hesitating.
“Great.”
You laugh through the tears that have now stopped falling, and Wonwoo exhales in something that resembles relief. His gaze is still set on you, unrelenting, like he’s still trying to put together the puzzle. Does he want to leave?
A part of you hopes he won’t. Because despite that it’s a bit embarrassing, you could use someone to talk to right now. Even if it’s just so you can get your frustration out somehow.
“What I’m trying to say is,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “I didn't mean it like that. I never do.”
You meet his gaze – soft eyes that remain otherwise unreadable – and let out a breathy chuckle.
“Yeah, whatever.”
You kick one of the stones in front of you, and watch it bounce a couple of times before it settles a little further away. Wonwoo doesn’t leave, even though you’re giving no signs of continuing the conversation. He just sits there, shoulder a centimeter or two from yours, and listens to both your breaths. Both uneven — his is nervous, while yours is upset.
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says finally, catching you off guard just enough for you to turn in his direction again. “If I ever cross the line, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He bites his lip awkwardly as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach. It’s silent for a while, the back of your throat burning — threatening that you might start crying again if you say something now.
He pushes his glasses further up his nose, and that’s when you decide to take the leap. Leap meaning that you lean forward to engulf him in a hug, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.
It catches him off guard, you can tell. His muscles tense, breath caught up in his throat and your own heart beats so fast you think you might die. But it feels nice, hugging him. And it feels even nicer when he wraps his arms around you, too, albeit hesitantly.
You stay like that, bathing in his scent – peach and jasmine with a hint of something you can’t quite identify – and somehow, you feel at peace. The test is still at the back of your head, obviously, bugging you, but it’s faint compared to Wonwoo and his hand that begins to slowly stroke your hair.
“Thank you.”
The words are whispered into the crook of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
They’re so quiet he barely hears them, might’ve mistaken them for a hiccup hadn’t he paid complete attention, but he is. He is paying attention. To how your muscles loosen up in his arms and there are no longer tears soaking through his shirt; how his own heart beats a little faster than usual; how he’s so painfully aware of the fact that talking to you only makes him like you more.
More meaning that he’s afraid he might be advancing from the useless crush he’d developed watching you argue with him during class. Advancing into uncharted territory that he’s never even intended exploring. Though he supposes he sabotaged himself by approaching you today.
“It’s nothing.”
But it’s a lie. It is something — the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth spreading across Wonwoo’s chest. Whatever you want to regard it as, it is something.
And that something settles in the very depths of your mind and his mind alike.
—
When Soonyoung announces that he’s bringing Wonwoo to come study with you and Minjeong in the library, your first instinct is to tell him you’re not coming.
Obviously, you’re embarrassed. And scared. And a million other things you can’t even begin to describe with words. He saw you crying, after all. Jeon Wonwoo, top of the class, saw you crying over a bad grade. It really doesn’t get much worse than that.
Still, you go. Mostly because you know staying at the dorm would spark questions from your nosy friends, but also because you don’t want Wonwoo thinking you’re avoiding him. Or else he’s going to think you care — which, essentially, you do. But he doesn’t have to know that.
“Do you think Wonwoo will laugh at me if I get the questions wrong?” Minjeong asks as you stand outside the door to the library, her hand on the handle.
“No,” you say. “He’s not like that.”
She opens the door, and you walk inside, met with the smell of books. Soonyoung and Wonwoo are sitting by the chess boards, talking, and you feel something turn in your stomach. Is it too late to leave now? Judging by Minjeong’s worried face, she isn’t so keen on being here either. Maybe you could both just go home.
Yet when she bites her lip and asks, “Are you sure?”, you can’t bring yourself to lie just so you won’t have to face him.
“Yeah. You should ask him to teach you if you don’t understand something, you know. Better to feel a little embarrassed than to fail an exam.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Just as she says this, Soonyoung catches your gaze and waves eagerly, urging you and Minjeong to come closer. He whispers something to Wonwoo, and he, too, turns to smile in your direction.
“Guess there’s no backing out now,” Minjeong giggles and you nod your head. There really isn’t.
The two of you make your way to the table where the boys are sitting and pick your chairs. Minjeong’s quick to sit next to Soonyoung, so you’re left with no other option but to plop down on the chair closest to Wonwoo. Normally, that would’ve only mildly annoyed you, but now, three days after he saw you bawling your eyes out, you can feel your heartbeat speed up vastly.
“Hey,” Wonwoo says and you almost jump. You’re not sure why, but you hadn’t expected him to speak to you first.
“Hi,” you reply and try smiling at him. Thankfully, he smiles, too. “What are you guys studying?”
“Chemistry,” he says, and upon seeing you wince, he’s quick to add, “‘Cause Soonyoung’s struggling with it. He asked me to teach him.”
You have to bite back a smile at his worried tone. “Ah, I see.”
He fixes his glasses, and clears his throat.
“It’s a really tricky subject, though, so I understand why you– uh, he, finds it troublesome.”
“Right,” you nod your head with a giggle, and you can almost feel Soonyoung’s stare burning into your side. It’s fine, though, because now, Wonwoo looks the slightest bit more relaxed.
You pull out your notebooks and textbook along with a coffee you’d made earlier, and when Wonwoo says your notes look pretty, you can’t help but grin. You kind of wish he weren’t so nice to you, but it doesn’t make you feel awkward, so you suppose you don’t have much room to complain.
It’s probably just reality catching up to you that’s making you nervous — the fact that he’s not so argumentative outside of class, and that you definitely felt something pull at the very bottom of your heart that day you failed the exam. That, and how the feeling isn’t giving any signs of leaving soon.
You let those thoughts wander as you start making notes, and soon enough, even Soonyoung goes quiet, occupied by his own stuff. It stays like that for a while, and at some point, Wonwoo’s knee bumps into yours. Warmth spreads all across you and you look at him.
“Sorry,” he whispers apologetically, retracting his leg, and the warmth subsides. In return you send him a smile in which you hope he can’t glimpse your slight – and unsettling – disappointment.
“It’s okay.”
And then it’s silent again, your body painfully aware of the fact that if you lean your leg a bit to the right you’ll touch Wonwoo. It’s not like you want to touch him, at least you don’t think you do, but the awareness is slightly nerve-wracking for some unknown reason. Everything about him is.
“Wonwoo,” Minjeong says, breaking the silence, making both his and your heads shoot up to look at her. “Y/N told me you could help me if I asked, so… I was wondering if you could explain biomolecules to me.”
“Of course.”
A quick smile flashes in your direction and then he’s leaning over the table to help Minjeong. His fingers follow the illustrations in her textbook and he starts talking — something about structure, you think. You listen intently, and it makes sense even though you’ve barely started the chapter, but you can’t bring yourself to take notes of what he’s saying. Can’t bring yourself to take your eyes off of him.
You wonder silently if he always was this handsome. You try to think of the times you spoke to him in class before, but it’s hard to recall his face in any other form than what your eyes meet now — focused gaze, lips moving to the rhythm of his voice. His glasses are slowly sliding down his nose, and you feel an immeasurable urge to push them up, but he beats you to it.
“Basically, they’re essential for cell division to happen,” he says, and you lean forward to look at the picture he’s pointing to.
Your shoulder bumps into his and he turns to the side. You notice, but don’t react in fear that you’ll just end up giggling like a schoolgirl. Instead, you pretend to read some of the text in the book.
Wonwoo picks up where he left off, voice a little hoarser than before, but you don’t move. Neither does he.
“Can you say that again?” you ask after he says something you don’t understand.
He repeats with his head turned in your direction, and your eyes drift down to his lips. You don’t want them to, it just happens, your stomach tying into a tight knot. You’re almost entirely sure nobody is supposed to look this hot while talking about biomolecules. Or was it morphogenesis? You honestly don’t know.
You don’t know why you feel like this with him of all people. Truly, there could be a lot of factors playing into it. The fact that he’s a smooth talker; the fact that he’s both intelligent and knowledgeable; the fact that you’ve grown to know him — what makes his blood boil and what makes him chuckle; the fact that he’s a constant in a sea of variables.
Maybe that last point especially. That even when everything else goes to hell, the moment you step into social anthropology class, he’s always there. Always willing to entertain you with, albeit sometimes pointless, banter.
You don’t even know what this is, though. Feeling your head spin when you look at him, having mini heart attacks when he says your name — are these the signs of you going insane? It could very well be that, you think. Insanity feels like the right word to explain your state right now.
“Y/N,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You listening?”
Your eyes drift back to his own, and you swear you see a glimpse of amusement playing in his gaze when you mumble a quiet “Yeah.”
Suddenly very aware of Soonyoung and Minjeong’s presence, as well as Wonwoo’s burning stare, you stand up, dusting off your clothes.
“I just need some fresh air,” you offer as an explanation.
“Mind if I join?”
You look at Wonwoo in disbelief as he asks the question. What the fuck? You don’t mind – at least in the sense that implies you don’t like his company – but it’s the same issue again; he makes you nervous. Goodbye to going for a relaxing walk, you suppose. And goodbye to whatever left there is of your sanity.
After what seems like hours of overthinking, you decide to get your shit together and send him a smile paired with a nod. Minjeong raises a brow in your direction, but doesn’t inquire further and internally you thank her for that. You’re not sure what you would’ve told her if she asked.
You and Wonwoo leave the library together, shoulders close together just like when you were sitting, and you swallow the lump in your throat.
“Everything okay?” he asks as you leave the building. “You seem a little dazed.”
The air is still cold, though winter is nearing its end and spring is slipping through the cracks. You pull your jacket closer to your body in hopes of both warming yourself up and slowing down your heartbeat, but it only fulfills one of those wishes, leaving you to deal with the latter yourself.
“I’m alright,” you respond with a soft smile. “Thank you for helping Minjeong, by the way. You’re a great teacher.”
Wonwoo’s smile lines shyly make an appearance. “Thanks. I’ve been thinking about becoming a real one, actually.”
You stop walking and turn your head in disbelief. Somehow, you didn’t expect that answer. Wonwoo was always a diligent student, but now that you come to think of it, he never really talked about his plans for the future, or what he wanted to do with his degree in chemical engineering.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” his cheeks redden ever so slightly. “Teaching chemistry honestly doesn’t sound that bad.”
You take a moment to think it through — him, in a suit and those glasses that fall down his nose, teaching kids about biomolecules. The idea is foreign, and yet, it fits just right.
You nudge him with your shoulder. “Professor Jeon, huh? It would suit you.”
He lets out a snort of laughter that sounds nothing like the small chuckles you’d hear from him during class. But it sounds nice, this loud laughter and you bathe in it for as long as it lasts. You’re starting to enjoy this whole ‘being kind to each other’ thing. Suits you better than yelling about something stupid in class. It suits him better, too.
Content with everything, you begin walking again and he follows suit. The grass is a little wet from yesterday’s rain and outgrown as it is, it tickles your ankles. It might’ve been mildly annoying if you weren’t so stupidly happy for whatever reason.
Whatever reason being Wonwoo, of course. You might be bad at chemistry, but you like to think you’re not dumb — at least not in an oblivious way. It’s become quite obvious, you think, that you like him.
The thought partly makes you want to kick your feet in the air and partly, it makes you want to rip your hair out. You like Wonwoo. It’s something so unexpected it makes you feel very bare as you stand there on the grass outside of your university, with your cold hands buried in the pockets of your jacket and Wonwoo’s eyes glimmering in the faint sunlight.
You like him. God, it feels weird to admit.
“About that day…” Wonwoo’s voice brings you back to reality, and you take a second to register what he’s saying.
“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” you ask.
“No, no, it’s not that,” he looks away and sighs softly, only to look directly at you the next second. “I just wanted to make sure you remember that one mistake doesn’t make you a failure. I should’ve said it earlier, but that day I was a bit… taken aback, I suppose. Not by the crying, obviously, but by the whole situation. And you.”
“Me,” you repeat, tasting the word on your tongue. Your heart starts beating a little faster, despite your best efforts at staying calm. He’s just talking after all; it’s not like this is some sort of love confession.
“Not in a bad way. Just in a new way,” he’s quick to assure you and you feel your heart swell in your chest.
“New. You make it sound so pretty.”
You laugh a bit, looking down on your hands. It. Does he even know what you mean? Does he know you’re talking about the fact that you’re slowly but surely starting to fall in love with him? Or is he just talking about seeing you vulnerable the other day?
“What would you call it?” he asks and you can’t stop your gaze from drifting back to him.
“I don’t know, confusing? And kind of insane.”
You swear his eyes drop to your lips for a mere second at that. He doesn’t say anything, just walks by you in silence, and it drives you crazy. You wish he’d say something – anything – just so you’d know if you’re even on the same page, but you don’t rush him.
Finally, he smiles at you.
“If insanity is losing control, then yes, I suppose I’m going insane. But it doesn’t feel all that insane to me.”
His eyes crinkle, soft streaks of sun painted across his face and you almost sigh. In delight, relief, or maybe fear, you’re not sure, but it’s those words, you think, that will linger. Those are the types of words to never abandon your mind, you’re sure of it.
“Did you rehearse this in front of the mirror or something?” you scoff at him, heart heavy in your chest.
He only laughs, and the sound stays in the air for a long time after you’ve left.
—
To say you were shocked to see Jeon Wonwoo sitting outside of his dorm with his head in his hands would be a major understatement.
You had grown closer to him in the past weeks — walking shoulder to shoulder around campus; him helping you with your homework — it all would’ve seemed unlikely had someone proposed the idea to you a month prior, but now, you had grown to truly enjoy his company. And he enjoyed yours, too.
In some ways, it stayed normal.
Comments and half-mean, half-endearing remarks remained untouched; what didn’t was your heart. It seems to be working against you at all times, beating too quickly when Wonwoo unexpectedly smiled in your direction, and dropping down to your stomach in fear whenever you saw him tippling over in emotion, only for the feeling to fade to the sound of his laugh.
This time, though, it doesn’t fade, only intensifies as you hear him curse under his breath.
“Wonwoo?” you try, and his shoulders tense ever so slightly.
You watch as he sighs, rubbing his eyes, then sits up straight, back against the wall. He doesn’t respond, even as his eyes, frail as ever, look into yours. They’re a bit darker than usual, and his lashes flutter as he blinks up at you.
There’s no one in the hallway, as if this part of the school emptied just to grant you a moment of privacy; a deciding moment, something in your stomach tells you.
“What’s happened?” you ask softly, quietly, unsure of what else to do with this obviously unhappy Jeon Wonwoo that’s sitting on the ground in front of you.
“It’s nothing,” he mumbles in response, leaning on his arms to stand up. “Just some school stuff.”
The corners of his mouth lift in a small smile, but you call his bullshit. You don’t necessarily doubt the genuinity of his smile, but the way he said it makes you think there is something that happened.
Taking a step in his direction, you nudge him with your elbow.
“What, the golden boy failed a test for the first time in his life?”
His eyes change at that — soft crinkles appearing at the very edges of them. His shoulders relax, too, and though it’s barely visible, you see it clearly. The air feels a lot lighter when he tongues his cheek and nudges you back.
“You sure run your mouth a lot, Y/N,” he grins and you feel butterflies flapping around in the very pits of your stomach. Then the smile fades to be replaced with a faux scolding look as he says, “I suggest you stop.”
You move to stand right in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. He’s taller, and you have to tilt your chin to look him right in the eyes as you giggle with a hint of playfulness in your gaze.
“Or what?”
He sees the smile playing on your face, the giddiness in your tone, and his heart bangs loudly against his chest. You look gorgeous today — well, that’s nothing new but it never ceases to amaze him how you can look prettier for each day that goes by.
Is this it? Is this when he’s supposed to make a move, like Soonyoung told him to? What does even ‘make a move’ mean, exactly?
He supposes it varies — just like the value of variables in the equations he solves so often.
Then how come he can’t solve this one?
You’re still standing there, looking at him without a care in the world, and he thinks that he’d never forgive himself if he screwed this up. At the same time, it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to run away from him, and so perhaps making a move doesn’t sound so stupid right now.
“Or,” he starts, and lets his eyes glide down to your lips for a moment to test the waters. You don’t scream in fear, and he takes it as a good sign. “I’m gonna have to make you.”
You giggle. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that, big boy?”
He feels his stomach turning upside down, squeezed by some invisible force and he has to remind himself to breathe. Is he really going through with this? Don’t start something you can’t end, Soonyoung would probably tell him. For once listening to his advice seems reasonable.
“Like this.”
And before he can even think of backing out, he brings the palms of his hands to cup your face and leans down, placing his lips against yours.
Taken aback, you let out a startled noise, eyes growing wide. He hesitates upon seeing your reaction, about to pull away when you finally kiss him back, tongue swiping over his lower lip ever so slightly.
A groan. Then, he’s bringing his hand to the back of your head and pulling you towards him, kissing you until your head starts to spin, and kissing you through that, too.
Your arms hold onto his shoulders for support, cheek leaning into his touch. Your noses touch clumsily; teeth clash when you open your mouth to let him explore it. Still, it feels like heaven and you can’t bring yourself to pull away for a breath.
Wonwoo, though, the more sensible one of you two, pulls back after a while, a smile on his lips and breath ragged.
You look at him — waiting for him to pick up where he left off, but he doesn’t move.
“That’s it?” you ask, and for a brief moment, all color drains from Wonwoo’s face. Did you not like it? Did he do something wrong?
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just going to leave me hanging like that?”
Your lip pulled between your teeth, you look at home expectantly, heart still hammering against your ribs. Truly, it’s not just about wanting more – though that plays a part in it, too – it’s also about whether this was a one-time-thing.
“Was it not enough for you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side after he’s calmed his racing heart.
“Considering I’ve been waiting for this, like, a month,” you say. “not really, no.”
He smiles down on you — that same smile that makes you weak in the knees, and you know there’s no turning back now. Not that there ever was.
“I think you’re a bit greedy,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting for half a year, and yet, I still have some self control left.”
“I never had any in the first place.”
And with that, you pull him close for another kiss.
He doesn’t protest, opening his mouth and sucking on your tongue. His hands move down to your waist this time, pulling your body flush against his. You’ve never experienced being in such close proximity with him, and yet, you don’t feel all that nervous. It all slips away with his soft touches.
Your hands in his hair — it feels foreign, but he likes that feeling, gets drunk on it. But it’s some kind of reversed intoxication; he doesn’t feel faint; if anything, he’s feeling more sober than ever before as he bathes in your taste, your scent, you. This must be what love feels like, he thinks. This must be it, or else he’s certain he’ll never know love. If this isn’t it, he doesn’t want to know love.
He hopes you’re at least feeling a fraction of what he’s feeling as he pushes you gently against the wall, hands roaming your body. You do the same, holding onto him like he’s your lifeline, tugging at the strands of hair available to you.
So caught up in this feeling of bliss, you don’t even notice how you’re not alone with Wonwoo anymore until you hear laughter from a group of bypassing students.
“Get a room,” someone says and you pull away from Wonwoo immediately, face hot with embarrassment.
He doesn’t appear shaken, though — rather, you glimpse the shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he urges the students to leave. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s smiling about, his fingers close around your wrist and he pulls you along the hallway. He’s all rushed steps until you reach the nearest classroom that turns out to be empty, and he walks inside, dragging you with him.
Upon closing the door behind him, Wonwoo drags you into his chest. You look up at him, his inquiring gaze that asks for permission, and smile.
“Are you sure?” he asks and your grin turns teasing.
“Sure about what, Woo?”
He tongues his cheek, unsure of what to say. You’re just plain teasing him – that much is obvious – so he supposes he can give the same energy back.
“Sure that you want me to fuck you.”
You’re taken aback, though perhaps you shouldn’t be, considering how you set yourself up for this with your question. Still, your breath catches in your throat and your hand holds onto one of the nearby desks for stability as you face him. Wonwoo looks different now, to some extent; maybe it’s the lighting that gives his eyes a different glow, or maybe it’s how the air has suddenly become swollen with tension.
Whatever the cause, it excites you to no end, the way he’s looking at you when you take his hand in yours. Like you’re the only thing that matters.
“Yeah,” you say finally. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
At that, he pulls you impossibly closer. He takes off his glasses in a manner that you in a drunken state would’ve most likely called seductive, and throws them away somewhere you can’t see, too busy kissing him back when his lips crash into yours for the nth time today. He kisses you so hard it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and all thoughts out of your brain.
Mouth open, you let his tongue explore it and simultaneously, you allow him to walk you further into the classroom, until the back of your thighs hit one of the desks. Standing between your legs, he pushes your shirt up so his fingers can graze the bare skin underneath, and you sigh in content.
Before you know it, he’s pulling away to peel off your shirt and bra, leaving you bare in front of him.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again.
You smile into the kiss, goosebumps spreading over your skin with the touches of his fingers that glide further up your thigh, until they slip under your skirt. Knuckles running over your soaked panties, he bites your lip and you let out a delighted moan.
“You’re so wet,” he comments as he slips a finger under your panties, running it through your folds. You can already feel another flood of arousal approaching just because of his words. “Won’t even need to prep you, huh?”
You desperately shake your head no, and he chuckles.
He lays his palm flat against your clit and you squirm until he retracts it. Playfulness in his gaze, he smears your arousal all over your cunt, ignoring your whines. This takes him at least half a minute before he finally – upon hearing you whimper his name in a way that makes his pants a whole lot tighter all of a sudden – gives in and slides one of his fingers into your pussy.
You throw your head back with a whimper, holding onto his shoulder as he starts pumping it in and out of you, noises caused by the movement filling the air.
“Oh my god,” you breathe as he adds another one, your cunt tightening around his digits endlessly.
He smiles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which is an immense contrast to how he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl. He plunges his digits in and out of your hole as his thumb circles your clit, until you’re moaning loudly — despite how little time has really passed.
It’s in utter shock that you watch him retract his hand completely, sucking the arousal from his fingers with a smile.
“Wha–” is all you manage to say before he flips you over, bending you over the desk.
You’re painfully aware of how bare you are in front of him — your naked cunt on display, because your skirt doesn’t do much to cover anything at all, and your tits pressed against the wood of the desk. Plus the fact that the locked door won’t do much good if someone is to have class in this room next period. Which would be in about thirty minutes.
Not that you care. Or, essentially, you do care, but now it doesn’t really matter — besides, you’re certain that Wonwoo would’ve managed to come up with some sort of excuse had you been forced to open the door for some frustrated professor.
Amidst your thoughts, you almost fail to hear the sound of Wonwoo unclasping his belt. Almost. But when you do hear it, something turns pleasantly in your stomach.
“You gonna be good for me and stay quiet?” Wonwoo asks and you feel his hands move to hold your hips, cock positioned at your entrance.
You mumble something in affirmation, something you’re not even sure you can hear yourself, and spread your legs to urge him on. You feel his cock prod at your soaked cunt, run through your folds languidly; again and again, until you’re whining his name in protest.
He only chuckles at your behavior, and asks, albeit teasingly, “What did you say?”
Gathering your thoughts, you try your best to ignore the way he’s dragging his dick over your pussy, occasionally rubbing over your clit.
“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Wonwoo.”
Pleased with this response, he finally enters you — cock stretching you open and making you cry out, holding onto the desk for support. He’s big, you realize, tears prodding at your eyes as he bottoms out.
“Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?”
You nod and nod, fingers turning white from how you’re gripping the wooden desk once he starts moving — in languid strokes, he manages to turn your moans louder and louder.
His hands hold onto your hips, pushing them against him so you’re further impaled on his cock with each thrust, and you swear you feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s a good feeling, one you can barely register fully with the way your mind’s gone hazy.
You hardly notice it when one of his hands lets go of your hips and comes up to your lips, fingers tapping at your chin as a signal to open your mouth. When you do, he slips two digits inside and you suck on them obediently, tightening around his cock.
Wonwoo smiles.
“Thought I told you to be quiet, baby.”
In all honesty, he loves the nosies you’re making, but he can’t risk someone starting to bang on the door before he’s got you falling apart completely. Besides, the sight of you sucking on his fingers is just as pleasing; just as effective in making his cock twitch in your cunt.
Your walls suck him in perfectly, the sound of him gliding in and out of your pussy loud in the empty classroom. His thrusts grow gradually harder; the desk starts moving in rhythm with them, and you can’t help letting out moans and whimpers that his digits in your mouth do a poor job of concealing.
He realizes this, and decides on removing his fingers so they can grab at your hair instead, pulling your back closer to his chest. Your tits bounce with his movements, and he plays with them briefly, groaning as your pussy clamps down on him especially hard at that, but then his hand moves between your legs to tend to your clit.
He rubs it in circles, granting you an occasional pinch or slap that makes you cry out, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter.
“Feels so good, Wonwoo,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as his fingers abuse your swollen clit.
“I know, baby.”
Barely coherent, you beg him not to stop, and he wonders whatever even prompted you to think that he might want to stop. He only fucks into you harder, hand on your hips to steady the thrusts that bring you closer and closer to coming.
“Wonwoo,” you say. “So close.”
“Yeah? Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come all over my cock like a slut?”
You nod, though he probably doesn't see, and he pulls you even closer, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight in front of him. And to think he could’ve had this earlier had he taken the chance. You in the shortest skirt he’s ever seen, moaning his name like you don’t care if anyone hears — he honestly thinks he might be in heaven.
“Good girl,” he groans, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you reach your orgasm. “Good fucking girl.”
He comes less than five seconds later, buried deep inside of you as his cum coats your walls. You whimper at the overstimulation of his last thrusts, collapsing on top of the desk when he pulls out.
He’s careful not to hurt you, but you still wince slightly, which prompts him to ask you if you’re okay.
“Never better,” you reply, and as soon as you say it, you realize it’s true.
Wonwoo smiles. He helps you clean up – repeatedly apologizing that he’s wiping you clean with the paper by the classroom sink, even though you tell him it’s fine – and puts his glasses on again. It kind of makes you wish he’d never taken them off, but there’s no way you’re telling him that. Your opinion about his beauty is something you’ll keep to yourself for now.
You get ready to leave just as someone knocks on the door, and Wonwoo opens it for a very flustered professor that tells you he’s sorry for interrupting. Wonwoo tries telling him it’s not like that – though it definitely is like that, and the blush coating his cheeks does nothing to hide it – and finally, you’re in the hallway, free.
“Poor guy,” you comment, a smile playing on your lips.
Wonwoo sighs. “Tell me about it. And here I was, thinking we’d gotten lucky.”
“I think we did get lucky, though.”
You say this without thinking it through, but from the way Wonwoo’s eyes light up, you’re glad you didn’t.
Suddenly, the doors to all classrooms in the hallway open and out come tired students, marking the start of the next period. Which you’re supposed to spend in biology.
You sigh, and Wonwoo seems to get it, because he tells you to leave for class.
“By the way, Y/N,” Wonwoo says just as you’re about to leave. Something in his gaze tells you this isn’t just a ‘by the way’ thing. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m really in love with you. And I’d like you to be my girlfriend.”
“Well, you’re in luck, mister,” you kiss his jaw with a grin. “Because it so happens that I’m in love with you, too. And I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
i’m in need of soft svt thoughts, so if you have any, please send them to my inbox 😭
Imagine straddling Wonwoo’s lap, while he was comfortably sitting in his gaming chair, focused on the screen before him.
His lips ghosting over your exposed shoulder, that the sweatshirt you stole from him failed to cover, sending shivers down your back. One of your hands placed at the back of his neck were stroking it gently, while the other run through his short strands of hair, that were getting longer day by day.
In between the games, one of his hands would sneak under the material, his fingertips grazing your naked skin, and his lips pressing to the side of your neck, leaving small kisses, while the other would cradle the back of your head.
You’d hum in approval, nuzzling yourself closer to his body, if that was even possible. A low giggle would leave his lips, as he changed his focus back to the game, but the back of his head still occupied by your presence and how perfect you were feeling in his arms.
When it was finally time for bed, he’d pick you up with ease, sliding his hands under your thighs, squeezing them lightly. You wish the walk back to your shared room could last forever, his arms and the way he held you, making you feel oh so safe.
Jeon Wonwoo is not dull, nor is he the clean and polite neighbor that your mother assumed he was when she set you up on this awful date.
or the one where wonwoo takes you home on the first date and renders you unable to walk, hoping to god that you don’t expose him to your parents.
ao3 | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.
WORDCOUNT― 8.8k
PAIRING― wonwoo x afab reader
CONTENT― strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, reader is a teacher but this is not a school setting, mocking and making fun, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky wonwoo, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed
WARNINGS― small mention of other teachers cheating on their spouses (very tiny mention), the resistance of pressure to fall in love/have children
NOTE― I repurposed an old wip for this because putting this mf in the main role hit harder than it should have. that being said, don’t expect me to write men often like this, i just thought it would be neat to make him take control. this is not proof read.
you've always been a romantic. okay, maybe a hopeless romantic. and reading all the romance books that you did definitely did not help at all. in fact, it made you even more hopeless.
and with all the kiss scenes you read, it only made you wonder what it would be like to kiss wonwoo. you and him had taken things slow and you were more than happy. but once in a while the thought of wanting to kiss wonwoo, a real kiss crept up into your mind. you'd made up countless scenarios in your head about it and just thinking about it made you want to kick your feet in the air and punch a pillow. so how exactly did you end up being pinned to the wall by wonwoo?
it's only when you come back to your room after having to go receive a parcel that you find the book that you were reading in wonwoo's hands. normally you wouldn't mind but you had stopped midway during a kiss scene, and somehow the thought of wonwoo reading that made you shy for no reason. you observe wonwoo as he reads the words on the pages and he looks up, noticing you. “i didn’t realize kisses in books were so dreamy”, he says as he hands the book over to you when you step closer to him.
“yeah, they kinda are. some of them are really cute and sweet”, you say, trying not to sound like a hopeless romantic as you tell wonwoo. “some are really really cute”, you emphasize, sitting down, thinking about all the cute kiss scenes you’ve practically engraved in your mind. “do you want to recreate it?”, he asks, without skipping a beat, making you blink up at him, processing what he just said.
“what?”, you ask again and he pushes his glasses up his nose bashfully before repeating, “do you want to recreate it, the kiss scene?”.
you blink up at him like a deer caught in headlights and the thought of it makes you smile but you try to hold it in. but wonwoo doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth lift up.
“love?”, he prompts again tilting his head to the side as he observes you.
“really?”, you finally ask softly as you stand up. and he nods. “tell me baby, anything you want”, he encourages, noticing how shy you’ve suddenly gotten. so wonwoo decides to take matters into his own hands.
wonwoo reaches out his hand and takes the book from your hands, opening the page to the kiss scene he read earlier. his brows are slightly furrowed as he reads the scene and then looks back up at you. he puts the book back down on the bed before walking over to the door. “what are you-“, you don’t finis your sentence as wonwoo proceeds to lean against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.
“hi”, he says, saying the same line the character in the book had said. you let out a soft laugh as you walk closer to wonwoo, standing in front of him. “hi”, you say and he smiles sweetly back at you. he moves off the doorframe and steps closer to you, reaching out as his arms caress your waist, gently pulling you closer towards him. and before you know it, wonwoo spins you around and pinned against the wall.
“wonwoo”, is all you can mumble as you look at him, before breaking eye contact and looking down, getting flustered. he was so close, so so close that you were pretty sure wonwoo could hear how fast your heart was beating right now. his thumb brushes against your chin as he tilts your head up to look at him. “you’re making me nervous”, you mumble in a whisper as your hands lay loosely around his neck. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as his thumb gently caresses your cheek softly looking at you, never once breaking eye contact, which was making you even more nervous.
“am i doing okay as the role of a book boyfriend so far?”, he asks and you almost chuckle at his questions. “y-yeah you’re doing exceptionally well”, you reply softly, getting distracted by the sight of his lips that are so so close.
“someone’s getting impatient i see”, he teases you, when he sees where your gaze is, making you bite your lip and give him a small glare, which makes him chuckle.
he leans in and your eyes flutter shut, and you’re waiting in anticipation but it’s only when you peek one eye open that you see wonwoo is looking at you with a stupid silly smile on his face.
“wonwoo!”, you whine, protesting. “baby, you’re so cute right now”, is all he tells before pecking your cheek. “i'm just doing what i read, trying to act out a book boyfriend now and you’re going to get mad at me?”, he asks playfully.
“but that wasn’t in the scene, you’re just being a tease”, you complain and the sound of his chuckle is like music to your ears, you can’t even be mad anymore.
he kisses your cheek again and looks at you before finally closing the gap between your lips as he kisses you. it’s a gentle, soft kiss and he pulls away a little too soon for your liking, making you pout in confusion.
“that wasn’t a kiss”, you tell and he just looks at you. “care to show me how a kiss is then?”, he asks softly, whispering against your lips and that’s all you need to pull wonwoo forward by the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. he slowly moves his lips against yours and if wonwoo wasn’t holding you, you’re sure that you’d melt in his arms right that moment. his hand encircles your waist tighter, pulling you closer as he kisses you a little deeper, with a dizzying passion. his lips were soft against yours and when you pull away, you were breathing a bit hard, trying to catch your breath as you look at wonwoo, who was still so close to you, his nose brushing against yours.
“so", he starts. "how would you rate me on a scale of one to ten for being a book boyfriend”, he asks, making you smile as you lean your head back against the wall, looking up at him.
“eleven out of ten, you make the perfect book boyfriend….and the best part? you’re all mine”, you tell and he grins, leaning in to capture your lips once again.
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if kuroo tetsuro is anything, he is a morning person.
he loves the mornings. he loves it so much. he loves welcoming the day with a fresh shower, a hot cup of coffee, and a thirty minute jog around the block of his apartment.
he loves how awake it makes him — how it’s just the perfect start to anything he’s looking forward to.
he loves the sun, the refreshing sweat, the morning birds, and of course, more than anything else — he loves you.
"i hate you." you groan, the pillow in your hands suddenly thrown all the way to where kuroo stands in the middle of the kitchen, and he knows that this is your own way of saying ‘good morning.’
there’s a yawn falling from your lips, a scowl on your face as you plop your head down on the kitchen counter.
"i hate you." you repeat, glaring at kuroo, "and your stupid school."
it’s five in the morning, hours before the two of you usually wake up to get ready for school, hours before the usual train comes, and hours before you can actually start to process things.
and you absolutely hate it.
because, your husband may be a morning person — but you, most definitely, are not.
"hmm." kuroo hums, watching you as he leans on the kitchen sink, the pillow you’ve thrown at him the second you entered the room still lonely on the floor.
he smiles, the way he usually does when he sees you like this, "i made you some coffee."
and he pushes himself off the sink, walking over to you and your scowling expression as he hands you your favorite green mug.
you narrow your eyes, looking up at him anyways as he hands you the cup of coffee.
"i hate you less." you take the mug from him, careful to not let it spill, "but i still hate your school."
and he smiles, nodding in agreement, kissing you on the head as his own form of “good morning” to you.
"it's too early." you lift your head up, letting it sit on one of your hands as you frown, "no one is awake this early."
"we're awake." kuroo tells you, smiling as he looks down on your expressive face.
and you scoff, "not by choice."
it’s too early for you.
you’re not even supposed to be up and awake for another few hours, the only reason that you are — and trust that this is the only reason you’ll accept — is because kuroo is hosting a presentation for his school later this morning.
and as much as you are proud of him for having been given that opportunity — you did hate the fact that that meant you’d have to wake up before dawn to see it.
kuroo sits on the seat next to you, watching you as you lay your head down on the counter table, sleep still so evident in the way you look back at him.
"you know, you do have a choice though." he says, the smile on his face still as sweet as it usually is.
he brings his hand to your back, "this is my school thing, you don't have to come with me if you don't want to."
it is way too early for you, but no way in hell does that mean you’re missing this event.
"i already told you, i'm not missing your super special presentation." you lift yourself up from the table, your shoulders falling slightly as you sigh. "even if it does start at the witching hour."
kuroo smiles, though really, he hasn’t stopped smiling all morning.
his eyes crinkle, "you know, the witching hour ended three hours ago."
and you narrow your eyes, for the first time all morning, you’re finally looking back at him clearly — and you glare.
did he really just correct you when you woke up this early for him?
kuroo laughs - nervously - and he takes a long sip from his own mug of coffee, "i made a mistake saying that, huh?"
"yes." you blink.
and he holds back another grin, "sorry - i love you."
you have a way better look of kuroo now, and just as expected, he’s all ready and prepared to leave.
his clothes are clean and proper, the appropriate attire to wear when you’re giving a presentation in a school of so many people, his tie only slightly crooked, but you figure that the gel in his hair could take a bit of the attention away from it.
he’s already done so much this morning and you’ve just woken up.
you almost hate how eager he is to get out of bed without you.
you tilt you head, "is that the tie you're gonna wear?"
and he looks at you, perking up slightly, "you don't like it?"
you take a closer look at it, dropping your focus from it for a second to take a sip from your untouched mug.
"ask me again when i finish this cup of coffee." you mutter, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the finality of sleep lingering.
and kuroo laughs, "are you sure you don't wanna go back to sleep?"
you shake your head.
"you look really really tired." he continues, propping his head up with his right palm so he can intently watch you as you try to get yourself together on the kitchen counter.
your eyebrows furrow, a scoff falling from your lips as you put the mug down.
( you know you look tired, it’s six in the freaking morning, but that doesn’t mean he can know you look tired. )
kuroo blinks, "i said the wrong thing again, didn’t i?"
and you nod, begrudgingly so, "yes."
"i’m sorry." kuroo laughs, inching closer to you slightly so he can give you a kiss on the side of your head - and this counts as his apology.
he shakes his head, "i think i'm nervous."
( he’s presenting a morning ceremony in front of over 200 people in uni — if he wasn’t nervous, then you’d be concerned. )
"don't be, you'll be great." you smile, the remnants of a yawn slurring your voice slightly as you do.
sitting up, you look at kuroo, "besides there's only one other guy presenting this morning and his name is so weird, it's like, tetsuro, or something — you’re so gonna beat him."
and kuroo laughs, because you always know what to say to make him laugh.
"he does sound weird." he nods, watching you intently as you take another sip from your mug.
"have you met him?" he asks you, the crinkle in his eyes matching the way he smiles perfectly.
and you say, "unfortunately." which gets him wanting to give you a whole new smile all over again.
kuroo moves his seat closer to yours, his head slightly falling to meet your own, and he laughs when he asks, "is he nice?"
and you push him away, rolling your eyes at his nonsense, but you don’t deny the way your shoulders rise as you try to resist the laugh coming up your throat.
"well, he's my husband," you wave him off, "so i have to say he's nice."
kuroo really does love waking up early in the morning. it makes him feel a weird sense of accomplishment every time he does so.
but his favorite part — and probably the only reason he keeps doing it even when he just wants to stay in bed — is because he loves waking up next to you.
he loves to wake up and see you still asleep next to him.
he loves getting all his morning chores out of the way as quick as he can, so when you finally wake up with him, all that’s left for him to do is spend his morning with you.
kuroo’s eyes crinkle, and he leans in forward to give you a kiss.
"thank you for waking up so early to watch me give a presentation at the witching hour." he laughs, pulling away from your lips as quickly as he’s met them.
and you tilt your head, "you said i was wrong about that."
"no," kuroo shakes his head, and he kisses you again, just as quick as the last one, "i don't think you can ever be wrong."
and he kisses you again, just to pull away, just to kiss you again.
small, short, quick intervals in between each kiss, almost making it out as a peck, but every time he pulls back, he looks at you — stars in his eyes — and he can taste the coffee in your lips.
"okay, okay, get off now." you laugh, pushing him away lightly, "you're gonna be late."
and kuroo kisses you, one final time, but this time he lets it stick — kissing you deeply and slowly — and the only thing stopping it is how he literally cannot stop smiling against your lips.
he pulls away, "what time will you be there?"
and you smile, "early."
kuroo nods, and he doesn’t want to, but he stands up from his seat, straightening out his clothes, and this is his cue to leave.
"thank you." he tells you again.
and you say, with a smile that easily matched his, "you said that already."
"okay, well, i'm gonna go." his shoulders fall, but you see the way excitement shines through his eyes anyways.
and he tells you, "no more than two cups of coffee, okay? — no matter how tired you are."
you take a sip from your cup, choosing to ignore this specific sentence from him.
so kuroo rolls his eyes, his expression playful as he shakes his head, and he looks back down to you, "love you."
and for the last time this morning, he disregards his watch completely, and kisses you one final time.
because if kuroo tetsuro is anything — he is a morning person, and he is in love with you.
summary: Kuroo didn’t even know there was someone living in the apartment right next to his. Until they start running into each other late at night.
pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x gn!reader
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort
word count: 3.9k
warnings: implied substance abuse if you squint, language
a.n.: Neighbors to Lovers prompt from @neoheros and @coophi ’s writing contest. Not that I was super eager to compete in anything, but the prompts just looked super fun ;-;
+++
“Door being rude to you?”
Kuroo didn’t know much about you, his next-door neighbor.
If he really thought about it, he’d probably realize this is the first time he ever saw you, the first time he spoke to you. But thinking was something we didn’t do right now, no. Not when the clock was just shy of striking midnight, and he was coming back late from work, again. So when he sees you outside of your own unit, fumbling with your restless keys and quietly cursing to yourself? Well, there’s only one thing Kuroo and his unthinking brain can do: fall back to the good ol’ sarcastic provocation. Delivered, of course, with the best version of a grin that his tired lips could muster.
NSFW warning featuring: fingering, dry humping, first time together, unprotected sex
other tags: lots of exposition, too many words, years long pining, accidental almost confession, emotional real one, mentions of characters having previous partners, oblivious reader, hidden feelings, slight angst, oh no there’s only one bed!
fem reader
word count: 7380
-
Akaashi Keiji knows everything.
At least, he seems to.
You realized this only a month after knowing him. He turned around to you, the girl who sat behind him in biology, and gave you one look before saying, “You have no idea what this lesson is about, do you?” And you laughed, because it was so absurdly true, while Akaashi turned his desk around and introduced himself as your study partner.
You still don’t know how he knew you were struggling. You thought you hid it well, but his eyes must have caught the poor grade on the quiz the teacher returned to you the week before, or the way you seemed to immediately sulk the moment you walked into the classroom. He could see everything you tried to hide - even things you couldn’t see yourself.
And he wouldn’t let you get away with anything but a stellar grade, so study sessions became routine for the two of you - a friendship was destined to bloom, and fast.
He was too observant for his own good, which was something you learned while watching one of his volleyball practices. He had been inviting you to come watch after study sessions for awhile, but it took you a bit to work up the nerve to walk into the giant gymnasium filled with boys you didn’t know.
As you watched him play, you saw his superpower: Akaashi’s eyes were everywhere at once. On the ball, on his teammates, on his opponents, on his own feet - he always knew where everyone was at any given moment, all while somehow managing to spare you a few knowing glances during the mess of the game.
You never knew how he did it, but you figured you didn’t have to know. It was because he was Akaashi, and that’s it.
a day in the life of sakusa kiyoomi—(featuring you, his wonderful lover)
6:30 AM:
“Omi, nooo.”
“Let go, y/n. I gotta.”
“No.”
“Come on, don’t be a brat,” he groans.
“If you love me, you’ll stay.” Sakusa sighs, pecking your forehead softly, hand gliding over your back as he feels you against him. It’s warm and it’s home, and he’s almost tempted to stay glued to you.
Almost.
“I have to go jog, I’ll be back,” he mumbles, unlatching himself despite your hands attempting to claw their way back to him. “Stop that, you’re—hey! Don’t smack my ass, weirdo.”
And even though his cheeks are tainted red and he’s thoroughly embarrassed, he grins to himself when he walks to the bathroom and hears your giggles.
7:20 AM:
“Omi, quit picking at the calluses on your hands.”
“‘M not,” he denies through a quiet mumble, hiding his hands under the table with a pout.
“You’re hopeless.”
The plate of breakfast placed before makes his heart flutter. Sakusa can’t stop the little chuckle he lets out when he sees the strawberries assembled into a little heart on the plate.
“And you’re a cliche sap,” he teases. And when he catches the spoon you throw at him, smirking when you groan at his athleticism, he almost considers skipping practice.
“Hurry and eat, you’ll be late.”
“I’m never late.”
“I don’t care, shut up and eat,” you huff. His chair scoots closer to yours when you settle next to him with your own plate.
7:34 AM:
“Y/n, y/n—oh my goodness—okay, that’s enough. I’ll be late—oh my god,” he groans through the onslaught of kisses you place on his face. He pretends he’s annoyed, but the blush and the wobble of his lips as he fights back a smile says otherwise.
Sakusa loves goodbye kisses, you’re no fool.
“Okay,” you peck his lips one last time. “There, I’m done. Now you may go.” He shuffles a little and stares at the ground, pout on his face.
“Ahem,” he clears his throat.
“You’ll be late, what are you—”
“You’re forgetting two things.”
“What?” He glares at you, and you glare back.
“First of all, you’re supposed to say I love you? What happened to that?” Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips at him with a raised brow.
“Kay, I love you. What else do you need?”
“Thank you, I love you too.” His eyes meet the floor again. “You missed a spot,” he murmurs quietly. And even though you laugh at him, and he scowls and shoves you away for a bit, you place two big kisses to his moles, sending him off.
7:57 AM:
“Omi, why’re ya smilin’ at yer phone like that?” Sakusa’s grin instantly drops, and his usual scowl graces his features. Atsumu tends to have that effect on him.
“Ooh! Are you talking to y/n? I love y/n! Tell y/n I said hi!” Bokuto’s voice is booming loud as ever—too loud for eight am on a Monday morning for him.
“No, you don’t need to say hi—”
“Tell y/n I said hi too!” He glares at a certain ginger instantly. He’s a bit annoyed that his last minute conversation with you before weight training is interrupted, but he doesn’t deny that deep down, he’s at home here too, surrounded by three loud mouths he can’t escape.
He shoots a quick message with a scowl on his face.
Bokuto and Hinata said hi
And Atsumu too he adds after the setter insists through whines.
And when he gets a tell them I said hi too! he can’t help but smile softly again—although it drops two seconds after when Atsumu opens his mouth once more.
12:36 PM:
“My shoulder hurts.”
“You slacked off on your stretches again, didn’t you?” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he unpacks his bento.
“No.” He did. And he knows you know, but Sakusa doesn’t like being scolded. Especially not on his lunch break.
“Yes you did, Kiyoomi,” you say sternly. And he pouts, unhappy with your tone.
“Don’t yell at me, I’m hungry, I don’t deserve this right now.” He pulls out the note you left him, scanning over the sweet message, noticing the little bunch of hearts on the bottom next to your signed name. He cracks a smile, turning the note to face you through the screen. “You’re a cliche sap part two.”
“And you’re an idiot who can’t take care of himself part two. Quit picking at your calluses and quit slacking on your stretches. Make sure you stretch longer before practice.” Sakusa glares at you through his phone, but his heart does a little squeeze at how you take care of him.
“Kay, whatever, you’re rude. Now tell me about your day so far.” He’s kept very entertained throughout his lunch break as he hears your rambles about trivial things.
8:17 PM:
“I’m home,” Sakusa calls out. Silence. With a frown, he calls out “I said I’m home,” louder this time.
“Oh my god, I’m coming, you’ll live if you’re not greeted in two seconds,” you huff as you emerge from the bathroom. But still, your hands cup his cheeks gently, pulling him into a searing kiss with a soft smile on your face.
“I could very well die,” he mumbles in between kisses, burying his head into your neck and pecking the skin there as your hands smooth through his curls. “Missed you.”
“Me too. Dinner’s gonna be ready in a bit, go shower,” you whisper.
“No, not yet.”
“Omi, we’ll cuddle after—”
“Yeah, but I wanna cuddle now.” Smiling to yourself, you rub over his shoulder, the one you know is sore, and he slacks more weight into you.
“Hey,” you whisper.
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you too,” Sakusa grins before tugging you along to your shared room, plopping himself on top of you in bed.
8:33 PM:
“And then I was spiking the ball, and I saw him just trip in the corner,” he snorts along with you, shaking his head as he recounts details from practice. “He thought no one noticed but I’m pretty sure everyone did.”
“I saw a kid trip at the grocery store today,” you chuckle. “I’m going to hell for laughing.” Sakusa cracks a large grin, poking your cheek with his index finger.
“You’re going to hell anyway.”
“So are you.”
“That’s why we’re a match made in heaven. Or hell. You know what? Both.” His hand finds yours under the table, squeezing it gently as your thumb rubs over his knuckles. “Oh yeah, I need a hair cut, remind me to make an appointment later this week.”
“No, Omi! It’s not even that long,” you whine.
“Yes it is, it gets in eyes when I go to serve.”
“Then wear clips. You look hot with longer hair,” you insist, making him scowl.
“No, that’s weird.” But he can’t help but sigh when your pout deepens, weak to his knees at the look. “Fine, I’ll do it like next week or something instead,” he mutters. The smug grin on your face makes him roll his eyes, but the brightness in your eyes fills him up to the brim with warmth.
11:31 PM:
“Can we go to bed now, love?” Sakusa yawns, nudging you from his spot on your chest. You hum as you scroll through your phone.
“What are you? An old man? Only grandpas head in for the night at eleven thirty.” He raises an eyebrow.
“You nap all day, you lazy brat. That’s why you’re never tired at night.”
“Excuse me, I did a lot of work today, don’t even start. A few smacks of a ball shouldn’t get you this tired.” He pulls the blanket over his body, huffing as he gets comfortable on top of your body.
“Fine, you stay up, I’ll sleep.”
“Omi, don’t sleep on me, you’re heavy.”
“Oh well,” he mumbles, already dozing off. You want to be mad, but he looks utterly beautiful in his sleep, cheek smooshed against your chest, face calm and at peace. He looks a few years younger, and you can’t help but smile to yourself, pushing back the hair from his face and kissing his moles.
“I guess your hair has gotten a bit longer,” you whisper. “Goodnight, Omi. I love you.” And Sakusa, as if he knows, smiles a bit in his sleep, humming contentedly.
He considers today a pretty good day.
reblogs are really appreciated !!
idk what this is sdjsjjsnd but it’s the most self indulgent thing i’ve written. this is me and omi, literally our dynamic. might even do an atsumu one now jsnsnsnsj
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