hello! i wanted to come on rq to say that i have un-privated tolerate it part one and part two. i hope you’re all doing okay. my messages are always open if you need anything <3
Jungkook fanfics are a gift that just keep giving! Here are the ones that I love the most! A lot of them are nsfw so proceed at your own risk.
Also, none of these are just sex. I have only included the ones which gave me chills, made my heart thump faster, and made me scream because that’s how good they are! So if you want the feels (and smut), here you are!
warnings: allusions to cheating, failing marriage, age gap (jungkook is in his mid 30's, reader is early 20's), swearing
synopsis: marriage is difficult, and every married couple fights. but jungkook has been late one too many times and broken one too many promises. it has you wondering why you give everything for a man who simply tolerates you.
a/n: hi everyone! thanks for your patience while I wrote this. also, thank you for all the love on part one! still feels like a dream. no playlist for this part, only one song.
A House in Nebraska - Ethel Cain
I also tried to make a taglist for this, it's the first time I've ever done one so I'm sorry if it's wrong! have a lovely rest of your day!
-
Sometimes, you and Jungkook would lay down on the living room floor, back against the cold hardwood. Nine times out of ten, the two of you would talk about life: how your work day had gone, updates on any pressing topic or things that weighed heavy on both of your minds. Yet, that one other time, you would just lay in silence. The world could disappear from around you yet the mere existence of him would erase any and all fear from your mind. He had that effect on you. Now that he really is gone, you find yourself thinking back to these moments in order to fill your empty heart.
His mother called you yesterday, asking if you were doing well. You tried to stop the quiver in your voice as you lied in an attempt to keep up the facade you built.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
She knew you were lying, you gathered that from the text she sent you after your brief call in which she wrote that she would always be there if you needed to talk to someone. All you could do was reply with a short and formal message, and silence her notifications after that. Jungkook had always, always made it abundantly clear how much he loved his mother. How she was the most important woman in his life, and when it finally came time to meet said woman, your nerves were soothed away by her sweet and inviting nature. That night, she pulled you aside and grabbed hold of both of your hands, thanking you for making her son happy and telling you that the pair of you had her blessing.
It had been a total of three months since you had seen Jungkook. You simply disappeared that night, clambering into your small car and driving towards any destination other than the house you could now no longer call your home. Even though you were the one that left, you couldn’t help but fall into a quick bout of regret and anxiety once you made it to your sister’s house. She, of course, accepted your shaking form with open arms, telling you to never think twice before coming to visit her.
Jungkook would call and text you every single day, without fail. At first, it was frantic and pleading for your return home. However, once it became clear you weren’t going to do that, much less answer him, his texts became less importuning. They were simple, telling you a good morning or good night, letting you know any updates regarding his work or personal life. He also never, ever failed to end it with a gut wrenching line.
‘I love you and I’ll wait for you forever.’
You knew the way you were living wasn’t what you wanted. You hadn’t returned home, therefore you had also not returned to work. Yet, every day you spent holed up in your sister’s guest bedroom, wallowing away in your stupid self pity, made you realize that maybe you weren’t ready for it all. Considering the fact that your job involved communicating with Jungkook on an hourly basis, you knew better than to submit yourself to that.
A soft knock brings you out of your train of thought, your sister pushing past the door with a smile. “Hey.” She says, sitting down at the edge of the bed.
You sit up, hands resting on your lap. “Hi.” You reply, twisting your fingers in the silence. “You remember that one summer we spent up in Jeju?” She asks, and you chuckle at the memory.
“How could I forget the summer you pushed me into the ocean to try and force me to learn how to swim.” You deadpan and she laughs.
“Hey! I was just trying to help you, and look, you know how to swim now.” She shrugs and you smile.
She clears her throat and shifts her body to fully face you, “Jungkook called me today.” She begins and you look up at her with a light frown on your face.
“He’s actually been calling me like three times a week ever since you’ve been here. Asks me how you are, if you’re eating, all that.” You look away at her words, suddenly finding the wall much more interesting than the uncomfortable conversation you were having.
“Y/n.” She says, her firm tone giving you no other choice than to look back at her. “He’s coming here, today.”
“What are you talking about?” You ask, a clear show of betrayal in your tone.
You move to get up when all she offers is silence at your question, yet a firm grasp on your arm halts your movements. You glare at her, opening your mouth to demand her to let you go, but all she does is pull you to sit back down.
“Listen to me.” She shuts you up. “It wasn’t my idea, y/n. He called and asked if you were still staying with me. I tried to lie but he wouldn’t let it go.” She pauses, looking at you with a look you can’t quite decipher.
“Y/n, he told me he’s coming here whether we want him to or not.”
God, you think. He was always so stubborn, not letting anyone or anything get in the way of anything he set his sights on. You try to compose yourself, yet every single part of your body is tingling. You don’t notice you’re shaking until your sister grabs your hand and envelops it into her own.
“Y/n you’re my sister, I love you more than anything in this world. But you need to move past this, you’ve had three months to put that fucker in his place.” She brings her hand up to wipe the tears you weren’t even aware were escaping your eyes.
“I’m so scared” You whimper out.
“You have nothing to be scared about, y/n.” She whispers, and you shake your head in protest. She didn’t get it. You were scared, not only because of the fact that you lost the love of your life, but also the prospect that you may lose yourself in all of this. For the past three years, your life revolved around him, around his life, and you based your every waking moment on being the perfect wife. The silent, tolerable, and compliant little wife. And you were done giving what you weren't getting back.
-
Three, loud knocks on the front door bring you out of the dissociation you were in. Your sister sits next to you on the bed, making sure to squeeze your leg in comfort before moving to get up and answer the door.
Your head spins, bile rising in your throat as you try to think of what to do. You knew you would have to eventually confront him, but you still weren’t set on whether that confrontation would lead to the final end of your marriage.
The door of the bedroom you’re currently in is closed, allowing you to hear only but a murmur when the front door is opened. The inevitability of the confrontation begins to settle into your bones, and you can’t help but wrack your brain and think of what you want to come out of this. You decide that, hell, this is what this has all led up to. You need to be strong, and you need to stand your ground and let him know how much he’s hurt you.
You move to get up once you hear a soft knock against the bedroom door. Your heart’s racing, and you bring your hand up to settle it against your chest in an attempt to stop it from lurching out. You take a deep breath before moving to open the door. Your grasp against the handle falters slightly once reality hits you, this is it.
You let your nerves slightly settle, and soon enough you’ve pulled the door open and you’re face to face with Jungkook.
He stares at you with a forlorn expression, the intensity of his brown eyes seeping into every crevice of your heart. Your breath stutters, eyes shaking as you will yourself to look away, but you don’t do that. No, instead you stare right back at him. You take in his disheveled appearance, notice how much thinner he’s gotten, and how sunken in his eyes were.
“Y/n…” He whispers, the very sound of his voice sending a chill down your spine.
He moves his arm out to touch you, but you flinch away, acting like his touch was a burn against your skin. He frowns, eyes clearly showing the hurt he felt at your action. He slowly sets his arm to lay beside him. Sighing, he pushes past the door, shutting it behind him.
He clears his throat, “I know you don’t want to hear from me, and you have every right to feel that way.” He stutters out, taking a deep breath in before continuing.
“I know I crossed a line coming here to see you, but I couldn’t bear another day in that house without you.”
“Y/n you made us a home. I don’t give a fuck about the house, about my job, about anything other than you.”
He lets out a tight sob, “I can’t sleep at night, I can’t eat, I can’t exist without you.”
He grabs a hold of your hands before you can register the touch, getting down on his knees. “I know I fucked up, and you have every right to hate me, but I can’t let you go without letting you know that everything I did and still do is for you, you are the reason why I’m still here, and why I still believe in love.”
Your blearing eyes are set in a glare, taking in the mess of a man in front of you, down on his knees and pleading for you to take in his words. He’s looking up at you with red eyes, tears streaming down his face. You reach out to brush his tears away, almost like it was second nature.
You shake your hands out of his grasp, settling on sitting on the edge of the bed. Jungkook doesn’t get up, instead setting his hands on his lap. “Jungkook.” You begin, proud of how strong your voice sounded.
“I appreciate you apologizing to me. What you did to me was not right, I loved you so much and yet you made me feel like I was nothing.” He whimpers at your words, and you just sigh before continuing.
“Was there … someone else?” You hesitate to ask, but you know you deserve to know. It wasn’t right how his feelings for you seemed to do such a quick 180, and the only conclusion your mind could settle on was the fact that he was enthralled with someone else.
“No, never.” He says, voice unwavering for the first time since he spoke to you today. “I would never cheat on you, y/n.”
You feel angry, standing up in a hurry and pointing an accusing finger into his chest. “Then what was it, Jungkook? What did I do for you to treat me like this? Did I get too boring for you? Did you realize that you couldn’t be with someone my age?”
He frowns, standing up too. “Y/n I know what I did was wrong and there’s nothing I could say or do to make it better, but the way I acted has nothing to do with you. There’s something wrong with me, something I can’t exactly pinpoint but something I need to work on and will work on.”
“You have to believe me, you did nothing wrong.” His nostrils are flared, a clear sign of his anger, yet you could tell it wasn’t towards you. You take his words in, whimpering out a statement that makes his heart break.
“If I did nothing wrong then why did you sit back? Why did you watch our marriage die?”
The room goes quiet, only your labored breaths being heard. It’s hard hearing you say those words, as he realized the extremity of the damage he’s done to you. He shakes his head, not letting up.
“I don’t know. And I hate the fact that I am even saying that to you because you deserve a better explanation, you deserve the best husband in every sense and I didn’t give it to you and for that I am sorry.”
He takes this chance to reach up a hand to cup your face. You don’t flinch away from his touch this time. “I did not lie when I said I would spend the rest of my life making this up to you, my love. I’ll do anything to get us back to where we were, to give you a marriage you deserve.”
“Jungkook, I forgive you.” He visibly relaxes at your words. A watery smile overtaking his features. “But, I don’t know if we can continue this marriage.”
His face falls, a shaky breath coming out of his mouth.
“Y/n..” He whispers and you shake your head. “I love you so much, but I can’t keep getting hurt. You were right, I deserve a better husband. I deserve a better marriage. I deserve someone who would up just as much as I do when it comes to our love, and yet you proved to me that night that you could let me walk away without putting up a fight.”
His breath is labored, hands clutching at your own in an attempt to steady himself. “Please.” Is all he says and you shake your head again.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”
You move to walk out of the door, yet the firm grasp on your upper arm halts your movements. “Y/n, please.” He’s hyperventilating now, fighting to catch his breath as tears cascade down his beautiful face.
Your heart aches, and you quickly move to sit him on the floor, holding his shaking form in your arms as you attempt to soothe him out of the panic attack. You knew from the many times you helped him during one of his attacks that he needed to be cradled, so you place his head against your chest and run your hands through his hair.
You stay like that for a couple more minutes, until his chest stops moving at lightning speed. When you move to get up, he wraps his arms tighter against your body. “Y/n, please give me a second chance, I promise I’ll do better. Please don’t give up on me, please.” He whispers, and you curse your heart for the inevitable beat it skips at his words.
You know marriage is supposed to be a happy union, it’s supposed to be a testament to the love a pair holds for each other, and yet you also know that not every marriage is linear. Not every couple has their happily ever after they envisioned. Marriage is hard, the talking, the listening, the compromises you must make can mask the good moments. And you know when you stood in front of him at the altar that you vowed to be with him for better or for worse, and that you set your heart into every word you uttered.
Knowing all of that allows you to look down at the man laying on your lap, mind finally made up.
“Let’s go home, Jungkook.”
-
was this the ending you hoped for? let me know what you thought about this part in a comment if you want. I debated whether I should make them stay together or not, but then I settled on allowing them to work on their marriage solely based on the fact that, as stated in the story, marriage is not linear and it takes a lot of work to maintain a good and healthy marriage. if a pair has realized their mistakes and vows to fix them, I think a chance should be given. however, if they cheat on you then literally don't think twice before sending the divorce paper lol. anyways! hoped you enjoyed it!
hi!! tolerate it was phenomenal 🥰 hope u have a happy holiday!! and sorry if some people were being mean for pt 2 not being out, some people don't understand that we have a life outside our hobbies ://
thank you! i hope u had an amazing holiday as well :). thankfully not many people were being rude but unfortunately sometimes the minority becomes louder than the majority and the comments i did get which were rude really put me in a sour mood. i’m okay now! i’m steadily working on part two :)
Hi just want to say I’ve just read through your work & you’re so incredible at writing. Angsty writings are my favourite and you hit the nail on the head with every piece you’ve done. If you ever do a full series I’d be invested, look forward to reading more from you 🫶
Hi! I just want to say i love your writing. I’m a sucker for angst and your imagines were really made to hurt me. And i love them! Will you ever write for Jimin? I hope you will. And i hope it’ll be something that’ll shred our hearts with pain. Thank you for writing and sharing your work! 💜✨
Hi! Thanks for your kind words, I really appreciate it. I am not currently writing for anyone else in bts other than Jungkook and Taehyung. Maybe in the future I will, but for right now I am only focusing on those two, plus some seventeen members. Thank you once again for your comment and I hope you have a good day <3
warnings: allusions to cheating, not confirmed. failing marriage, age gap (jungkook is in his mid 30's, reader is early 20's)
synopsis: marriage is difficult, and every married couple fights. but jungkook has been late one too many times and broken one too many promises. it has you wondering why you give everything for a man who simply tolerates you.
a/n: of course, inspired by a taylor swift song. this time it's tolerate it, but you can listen to this playlist which includes more songs which helped me write this. thank you!
click here for playlist
-
Dinner’s ready.
The large spread of various side dishes and grilled meat sits on the table, and the smell lingers in the house after hours of you slaving over the stove. You gingerly wipe your hands on the apron adorning your body and settle yourself on one of the large chairs in the living room.
He should be here any minute now.
The t.v. plays a rerun of your favorite show, and you get so lost in the episode, you don’t realize half an hour has passed. Frowning, you reach for your phone and pull up the conversation you had with your husband earlier that day.
Good morning my love, when will you be home tonight?
I have a lot of work. I’m thinking 8:00.
Ok, I’ll make something for you so you can eat as soon as you come home. I’ll be waiting for you, I love you.
Read 11:23 a.m.
The clock reads 8:30 p.m. and dinner’s cold.
You should’ve seen this coming. Trudging into the kitchen, you begin disassembling the dinner you had worked so hard on. Another half hour passes and you have everything packed away, and his lunch ready for the next day which consists of the leftovers from that night.
You stare into the mirror after the hot shower you force yourself to take, taking in your sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. You find yourself thinking back to these past few months, and how every day felt like a war you had to overcome. The man you fell in love with was fading away into a stranger. You initially took his indiscretions as a sign of the stress of his job manifesting itself, ignoring the warning signs blaring so loudly in your stubborn face.
When Jungkook got down on one knee and proposed to you after only dating for a few months, you felt like life was finally beginning to treat you right. Failed relationships had ruined your perception of love, and how to be loved, but he had broken down your walls and made you feel something again. Initially, the age gap between the two of you served as a hindrance to your growing fondness of him, you had heard stories of younger women getting into relationships with older men, and how so many of them left worse than they came into it.
You never thought it would be you.
The jingle of keys brings you back to the present, you quickly shuffle into your shared closet and begin getting dressed into your nightwear, trying your best to not let the stinging in your nose turn into tears. God, you think, even the closet was a semblance of where your love lied. His t-shirts you used to use as your pajamas every night had remained untouched for weeks, the smell of him deterring you from any sleep as you lay alone on the large bed meant for two.
“Hey.” His tone is soft as he enters the closet, and you quickly turn around. He stands in front of you, hair disheveled, face in a light frown as he reaches to pull you into a hug.
“Hi.” You whisper back, nuzzling your head further into the older man’s chest.
He moves to take his shirt off, slowly unbuttoning it with nimble fingers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it on time tonight.”
You feel the stinging in your nose again, but you just turn away and begin placing the shirt he had just taken off on a hanger. “It’s fine.”
He sighs, and the room gets quiet. “Is it?”, he asks. You’re taken aback, pausing your movement to look up at him with furrowed brows and questioning eyes.
You nod, “Of course it is, I know you’re busy.” You go back to rearranging the strewn about close from that morning.
Your heart’s beating so fast, yet you try to keep a neutral look on your face. He had never outright confronted everything to you, you had made a habit of going along with whatever mood he had depending on the day, never wanting to bring up his obvious carelessness when it came to the two of you.
“We should take a break.”
The room goes quiet again, although this time you can swear you feel the temperature drop, too. You halt your movements, one hand on his dress pants, the other on the hanger. And as the reality of what your husband says sinks into your bones, you start to tremble.
Slowly, the tears begin forming in your eyes and the tight grasp you had on the items drops. You bring your hand up to your mouth as you turn to face the man you love. He’s looking at you with an indifferent gaze, shoulders back as he takes in your deliberated form.
Finally, you speak. “What?”
It’s soft, so soft he almost missed it but when he realizes what you say he just sighs. “I want to take a break, y/n. It’s clear we both aren’t happy in this relationship right now.”
You laugh at that, like an actual full belly fall, and any person without an idea of what was going on would’ve thought you were insane. You sure felt like it. You finally look up at him again.
“You’re telling me,” you pause, scanning his face, “- that I spent two hours cooking for you, cooking your favorite meal, for you to come home and tell me you want to take a break?”
His shoulders finally drop, taking in your words and letting reality hit him. Yeah, you think, listen to how much of an asshole you are.
“Actually, you’re right.” You say as you make your way out of the closet. You pull out a large duffel bag stowed away in your bathroom cabinet, throwing it onto the bed and forcing it to open as big as it can. You begin by emptying your bathroom drawers, taking out anything that belonged to you and haphazardly stuffing it into the bag. Jungkook just stares at you.
“I must have ‘dumb fucking idiot’ written on my forehead, huh?” You grumble as you push past him to begin emptying out your closet drawers next.
“Ignored everybody who told me not to be with you, had fight after fucking fight with my own mother as she warned me about how you would break my heart.” You pause, staring into his eyes as you seethe, “I should’ve fucking listened.”
The next few minutes consist of slamming drawers and harsh sniffles as you take pauses to wipe both your eyes and nose from how hard you were crying. You couldn’t believe it was ending like this, but you couldn’t stay any longer. After another short while, you throw the bag over your shoulder and begin stalking towards the front door.
Jungkook’s hurried feet scramble to reach you, holding a firm grasp on the door you’re trying so desperately to open.
“Move.” You say, trying another futile attempt to push past the man’s strong grasp. He shakes his head.
“No, this is not how I wanted things to go. I said I wanted a break, not a fucking divorce. Not whatever the fuck this is.” He says as he motions to your disheveled form.
You laugh, again, setting the bag down as you cross your arms. “Yeah? Well you might as well have served me divorce papers and kicked me out with the way you’re been treating me these past few months. I’m so sorry I got the wrong idea.”
He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms too, and you both glare at each other.
Sighing, you pick up the bag once again, moving to open the door. “Let me do the both of us a favor, let me leave.” He goes to stop you, but you bring up a finger to tell him to not fucking try it.
“For months I have sat here like a fucking dumbass playing the stupid housewife. Making you dinner, washing your clothes, packing your lunches. I never wanted this, you knew I never wanted this. I told you my biggest fear was being in a loveless marriage and yet you didn’t care, because day after day I sat there on that fucking couch and waited for my loving husband to show up for once.”
You look at him, “And you never fucking did.”
His forlorn expression brings a smile to your face, “You tolerated my love. And while any other man would’ve gotten on their knees and begged for me to stay, you try to justify your selfish actions and tell me you want a break?”
Finally opening the door, you step outside and turn to look at him one last time. “Where’s the man I married, Jungkook? Because I’m surely not looking at him right now.”
thank you for all the love on exile. it goes without saying that writing is a passion of mine, and i wanted to share my gratitude for you guys for reading what i put out. i always ask myself if it’s worth sharing these writings, that they aren’t good, but even if those insecurities still weigh heavy on my mind every time i hit ‘post’, any and all love i receive from you guys makes me realize it’s possible to do something i truly adore. thank you for your patience when i disappear for a few months to figure life out or when i fail on making part 2’s for my writings because i feel like writing sequels never comes naturally to me, thank you for those of you who check up on me in any way. it’s truly appreciated. i hope you stick around for my future works. all the love, bibi.
do me a favor and don’t think about vernon waking up to wander into your kitchen and hug you from behind, cold nose burrowing into your shoulder, and pressing kisses to the skin that peeks out of his (stolen) shirt as you make pancakes for breakfast…
don’t think about the way he clings to you in his semi sleepy state, hair a mess but uncaring as his fingers curl around the hem. do not think about the mindless way he searches for your warmth every time your body moves without him, light frown shifting back into content when he’s able to wrap his arms around you once more.
definitely don’t think bout how he opens his mouth at your gentle prodding to taste the first pancake, chewing slowly and thoughtfully before humming him approval and breaking out in a happy grin. or about the way he steals the sliced strawberries off the wooden cutting board when he thinks you’re not looking. (you definitely are, but you let him have it.)
and don’t you even dare think about vernon mumbling something about marrying you because you make the best pancakes he’s ever had after his mom’s. your heart trips and stumbles at the admission, eyes widening, and he blinks and asks you what’s got you staring at him weirdly, unaware that he’d basically uttered something akin to a proposal at ten am on saturday morning.
Paper Rings || ljh x reader (Inspired by Paper Rings by T.Swift*)
Summary: A quiet night in with Jihoon is the perfect excuse to reminisce on the evolution of your relationship with him. It evolves a bit more when he wakes to find you trying on one of the paper rings he's been leaving all over the house.
Word Count: ~4000
Content Notes: this is not smut ! this is just fluff ! very happy and probably tooth-rottingly sweet !!
Warnings: lil bit of weed; mentions of drinking; mentions of eating; cramps mention (not specified as menstrual so even if u don't menstruate you should be good to go), mentions of having kids but its even smaller a blip than the drugs; he lifts reader up (lbr this man is massive and i believe that if he couldn't lift you he'd just work out till he could), i mention his body a lot bc im obsessed with it what can i say, he's asleep for like half of it sorry, a bit of crying but not as much as in bartender!seungkwan pt 2
“Sleepy?” Jihoon asks from bed with a soft voice, face nearly expressionless, but you can see the love in his eyes, like always. You’ve gotten good at reading Jihoon over the two years you’ve been together but the man doesn’t always offer up his emotions freely. In his music, sure, but in life? Unless he’s laughing, it can be hard to tell how exactly he’s feeling. If you ask, the answer will usually be hungry, or most often, tired.
Jihoon is always tired, working long hours in the studio as a producer and even longer hours at home as a songwriter. You can always hear him singing in the spare bedroom turned home studio, and every time one of his songs comes out, you wish it was his voice instead. He sings for you, sometimes, when you can’t sleep. Most of the time, he sings when he thinks you’re already asleep (he doesn’t need to know you're faking and you don’t need to know he knows you’re faking).
You realize you’ve forgotten to respond to him and nod with a gentle smile, bending down for a kiss which he returns contentedly. He’s used to it, knows you drift off sometimes, especially when he sparks a thought in you.
You’re still thinking as you crawl into bed beside him, leaning in for one more kiss before nuzzling your head into his shoulder.
You have a lot of thoughts about him, at all times.
You didn’t last long as friends, maybe two or three months, because your traitorous brain just wouldn’t shut up about him.
His friends had been high the night you met, bragging to you about what a star Jihoon was and trying to get you to date him. Jihoon, meanwhile, looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole, especially when the platinum blonde one (whom you now know as Soonyoung) held his hand up and curled his fingers at you, hissing, “Tiger’s gaze!” and then stared at you with narrowed eyes for approximately 45 seconds.
It only got worse when his other friend (sweet, kind, loud Seokmin) started singing something from King Arthur at the top of his lungs; his voice would have been beautiful if it wasn’t directly in your ear and echoing off the empty streets.
Jihoon did his best to wrangle them, apologizing sincerely before dragging them away and shooting one last pinched smile over his shoulder at you.
You’ve never told him but that night, you went home and googled the fuck out of him. You’d tried every combination of Jihoon and producer and music and songwriting you could think of, throwing in other random words just in case they worked. Nothing did and you fell asleep that night frustrated, and no more informed than you were when you started.
Now obviously, you know you didn’t find anything because he produced under a pseudonym.
Your eyes wander over the shelf of awards, all won by Woozi or Universe Factory. Jihoon had been reluctant to put them up, being the humble man he is, but you wanted to celebrate him. You wanted him to look at them and feel proud. And then look at you and feel supported. He may not say it but you know he does.
You can feel Jihoon’s breath even out and look up at him to find his heavy eyelids closed and his lips open just a bit. His throat will be sore tomorrow if he sleeps with his mouth open like that, and he won’t absentmindedly hum around the house if it is, so you hold your breath and carefully push his chin up with one finger to close it. You wait, just to make sure you haven’t woken him, and thank your lucky stars he’s a heavy sleeper.
Now that you know he’s sleeping and won’t perceive you (as he so often does), you let your mind wander.
You think about how you’d run into him again, on that same street, with the same friends, just a few weeks after the first time. You’d pretended you didn’t remember him, or that night.
Even then he knew you were lying. Jihoon’s always been able to see right through you, down to the insecure and messy parts you try to hide.
He let it slide though, let you pretend, knowing somehow you needed to protect yourself just a little bit longer. Soonyoung and Seokmin (they repeated their names to you what felt like a hundred times) somewhat desperately attempted to convince you to join them on their night out.
Jihoon had tried to free you, give you an out by saying that you were probably busy and had plans of your own, his eyes boring into you to make sure you knew what he was doing.
You only needed a few seconds to decide you didn’t want to be free.
So you joined them, and learned you shared mutual friends, and suddenly two friend groups became one, and then you were seeing him every weekend. You always thought you could feel Jihoon’s eyes on you, but when you’d look over he’d be in a seemingly deep conversation with someone else, usually Jun.
Jun was one of the friends you had in common, you’d met him at work and Jihoon had known him since middle school, and he was perhaps too delighted when your friend groups merged.
You honestly couldn’t tell if Jihoon even liked you as a person until your friends insisted on swimming in Jun’s apartment complex’s pool. It was freezing out, halfway through November and mid cold-front, and the absolute last thing you wanted to do was jump in a cold ass pool.
Everyone else had gone in, everyone but you and Jihoon. Your friends had tried to goad you for a bit but eventually gave up and started trying to drown each other, as boys do.
You’re sure Jihoon could tell that you did want to get in, but you didn’t want the teasing or punishing splashes that were sure to follow, because he came and sat next to you on the lounger, and said quietly, “what if I go in first?”
With wide eyes, you’d turned to him, shocked that A) he was talking to you unprompted, and B) that he was offering to get in the pool at all. He’d been adamant he didn’t want to get his clothes wet, saying that he hadn’t brought anything else to wear, that he hated the way water felt in his slides. Jun had offered a shirt, but you and everyone else knew it wouldn’t fit Jihoon. He was just too big, so very big and dense and muscular and…
You shake your head, reminding yourself that he’s asleep and values his rest and wouldn’t appreciate you awakening him by feeling him up.
Maybe he would though, he always gets the cutest blush whenever you appreciate his body in any way, shape, or form… and his form is so…
No! Jihoon needs his rest, he doesn’t sleep enough and he works too hard for you to wake him up now, even if you desperately want to trace your fingers over his pecs.
Your mind wanders to when you’d accidentally went from friends to more than friends to lovers to partners.
Jihoon wasn’t much of a drinker, and neither were you, so you were often paired up as designated drivers. Neither of you minded, preferring to keep a clear head and make sure your friends didn’t concuss themselves or impregnate anyone, but it meant you spent a lot of time together.
A lot of time together, late into the night, surrounded by drunk people who wouldn’t remember what you said in the morning.
So you and Jihoon entertained yourselves by making fun of your friends’ antics. You shared secret smiles when Seokmin inevitably climbed on a table and started belting out show tunes. You giggled to each other when he launched himself onto Mingyu’s back and declared himself king of the world. You blindly slapped at each other’s arms and stifled smiles when Soonyoung started trying to make out with whoever was closest to him and subsequently got pushed away with a palm to the forehead.
That’s usually when one of you would decide the group had had enough for the night, and worked together to corral everyone into your respective cars. One night though, after assigning seats and buckling everyone in (thank fuck you both drove SUVs), Jihoon gently caught your hand before you opened the driver’s side door and pulled you aside.
He’d looked nervous, which was uncharacteristic of him, and you were instantly worried he was going to tell you he was tired of chaperoning.
Terrified you’d be on your own from now on, left to somehow babysit twelve grown men without Jihoon’s firm, large hand, you twisted your fingers together and stared at him apprehensively.
“Do you think you’d maybe… some time… want to get-” Jihoon pushed out a breath, shaking his head from side to side a little, before continuing.
“Would you wanna get a drink sometime? With… just me? We could leave the kids at home for once.”
A half-smile pulled at his lips, nerves evident only in the bunching of his muscles and the way he couldn’t quite meet your eye.
It had taken everything in you to pretend you didn’t just see a flash of the two of you dropping toddlers off at your mom’s house before running back to the car together and escaping into the sunset.
Jihoon must have taken your wide eyes and silence for a rejection though, because he started backtracking. He didn’t get far before you interrupted him.
“Actually there’s a place nearby where they wander around with various grilled meats on sticks and cut it right there onto your plate. It’s all you can eat. We could go there instead?” You offered hopefully.
Jihoon had looked right at you then, like he was seeing all the way down to your bones and into the annoying, stupid organs they protected (a heart that beat too hard around him, and a brain that he could scramble with a single touch).
But his face was more open than ever, eyes clear and focused on you. It was scary almost, to have all of his attention, all of his concentration, on you like that. Scary until he broke out into a full grin, eyes crinkled and dimples creased in his smile lines.
And that was all it took, just one smile and he’d burrowed his way deeper into the depths of your heart and every groove of your brain, and you knew somehow you’d never be able to disentangle them from him.
Jihoon’s been stuck there ever since, carving out his own space in you with every late night spent cooking together, every early morning spent staring at each other, every long day spent caring for one another.
His care always shows in the little things: in the way he makes two portions when he has to leave early for work so he’s sure you eat breakfast, in the way he noticed that you hate when his toes touch you in bed and started wearing socks without you having to ask, in the way he can always tell when you have cramps and appears every four hours to give you pain meds because you’d forget they exist otherwise.
The longer you’re with him, especially now that you live together, the more sure you are that you want this to be your life, forever.
You’ve already read all of the books on his side of the bed, even though they’re about songwriting and you don’t have a poetic bone in your body. There’s a picture of him on your nightstand, framed carefully, and he’d bemoaned the fact that it was just him and not you together.
But how could you resist? His mouth was open wide, kabobs in each hand, and uninhibited, ravenous joy in his eyes. It’s one of your favorite pictures of him, and you know Jihoon knows it’s because it reminds you of that first date at the Brazilian steakhouse.
You smother a giggle in his shoulder, remembering how Jihoon had invited you back to his place after.
You’d worried things were moving too fast until he turned on a movie and immediately fell asleep, his massive shoulders tipping into you until he was practically in your lap. You hadn’t been able to move for hours, both because you didn’t want to disturb him and because he was just too heavy, and even with dead legs and a screaming bladder, you still wouldn’t change a single thing about it.
You don’t mean to, but sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t fall back asleep, so you just lay on your side and watch his chest rise and fall. It’s soothing to you, the pattern of his breaths and the sound of air moving through his lungs. A reminder that he’s here with you and feels safe with you and loves you (Jihoon can sleep anywhere but he doesn’t like sharing a bed, a fact that changed with you).
This usually happens on rainy days or Mondays or when things feel a bit more complicated than normal.
Being with Jihoon isn’t always easy; it’s not even close to his fault but it can be hard contending with his demanding schedule, and sometimes he pours so much emotion into his music he doesn’t have a whole lot to spare for you. You never doubt that Jihoon loves you, but there are days that he’s a bit closed off, a bit unavailable.
Those are the nights that you stay awake on purpose, just so you can watch him sleep and remind yourself that he wants to be here with you, and that he’s here to stay.
You’re still not sure if Jihoon thinks you haven’t noticed the paper rings he’s been leaving all over the house. He has to have noticed that they disappear though, snatched with delicate fingers and deposited straight into your jewelry box as soon as you find them. You’re too scared to put them on, worried you’ll tear the paper or get them wet or lose them, but you know they’re for you.
He’d told you somewhere near the six month mark that his writing changed when he met you, got deeper, truer, his words finally tied to real experiences, and you’ve listened to every song he’s put out since then.
Same dream, same mind, same night was basically a proposal in itself, even if it was sung by someone else. Last month, he’d led you into his studio, gently pushing you down by the shoulders to sit in his chair before starting the guide track of IF you leave me and immediately running from the room.
You’d emerged fifteen minutes later, your face wet with tears and sobs caught in your throat, walking straight into his arms and staying there for hours.
Your mind lingers on one lyric in Same, same, same.
Promise me eternity, if you feel the same way as I do
You feel the sudden urge to look at the rings, to try one on for once, so you carefully roll out of bed, thanking yourself for not having wormed your way into his arms yet. Shuffling on quiet feet to your dresser, you open your jewelry box, holding your breath and praying it doesn’t creak.
The paper rings are there, as expected, but you notice something new this time.
A metal one, white gold, with a diamond wrapped in delicate golden vines, dotted with tiny gemstones. You look closer, realizing that the gems are his and your birthstones.
Your breath catches in your throat, tears welling up immediately, and you almost curse Jihoon for making you cry so late at night, before you hear rustling behind you and his tired voice.
“Took you long enough, that thing’s been in there for days,” you can hear the smile in his tone, hear the way it forms his words and coats them with love, “didn’t you notice I stopped leaving paper ones for you to find?”
You can hear blankets moving through the roaring in your ears, fingers quivering around the ring until Jihoon reaches around you and takes it from your grasp. He must know you’re frozen, unable to turn around on your own, because he lays a gentle hand on your shoulder and spins you slowly himself.
Your gaze meets his and you’re shocked to see inklings of tears in his eyes, your eyebrows raising and the fondest smile stretching your lips. Jihoon tries to kneel but you follow him, sinking down onto your knees until you’re both sitting on the floor of your bedroom, in the home you share.
He rolls damp, playful eyes at you, and you can only shrug and let your watery smile grow.
Jihoon should know by now that you’ll always follow him.
“I had a plan, if you didn’t find it in the next few days,” Jihoon begins, voice quiet but strong.
“I bought you a music box programmed to play the song I wrote the night I first asked you on a date, one you’ve never heard before, and I was going to have it waiting with all the rings inside when you got home from work.”
You nod, biting your lips into your mouth to stifle the sob, forcing yourself to focus on him even through the fogginess of your tears.
Jihoon just narrows his eyes at you lovingly, a little chuckle escaping under his breath, before shifting to sit with his knees crossed, and pulling you to sit sideways in his lap. His arms wrap around you, cradling you and letting you gather yourself enough to listen to him, and he carries on with his speech.
“You know I like to have control over my life, over who’s in it and what happens and where it goes, but when I met you, I started wondering what could happen if I didn’t control everything. It felt like a sign when I saw you again, and then when we had friends in common, it felt like the pieces could fall into place if I would just let them.”
Jihoon disguises a sniffle in a cough and like the loving, caring person you are, you pretend to be fooled.
“So I tried to let go. I wasn’t successful at first,” you snort, remembering the way he always pretended he hadn’t been looking at you, and he bops you gently on the head with his nose in retribution.
“I wasn’t successful at first,” Jihoon continues pointedly, digging his chin into the top of your head a bit.
“But I got better at it, better at letting go and letting things happen, and being around you got so easy I didn’t even have to try anymore. And then I asked you out for drinks, and I thought you were turning me down but you proposed meat instead, and that’s when I knew,” Jihoon nods with finality, seemingly finished.
“Is that- Are you… done?” You ask, tilting your head to stare at him.
Jihoon stares back, face flat, before he breaks out into laughter, his cackles bouncing off the walls of your bedroom and your heart. You can’t do anything but join him, resting your head on his shoulder and giggling into his neck.
“No, I’m not done. I was pausing for dramatic effect, I thought you’d appreciate it!” He says breathlessly, pressing a kiss onto your forehead, pausing to let his lips rest there a moment.
“That’s when I knew that I was in trouble. That if I got to be with you, got to love you, I’d never want anyone else. But I was ready, I am ready. And if you are too, then,” Jihoon pauses to pull away enough to look at you, voice soft and serious.
“Marry me?” He unwraps one arm from around you and holds out the ring, nestled in his palm and looking so so delicate compared to the size of his hand.
You feel like your throat is closing up, clogged with joy and love and wishes fulfilled. You can only nod, reaching shaking fingers out to Jihoon, watching as he slides the ring onto your fourth finger. It fits perfectly, sparkling even in the moonlight and warm from his skin.
Staring at it on your finger for just a second, you take a deep, steadying breath before tackling Jihoon to the floor and kissing him like your lives depend on it.
He goes willingly, you know because Jihoon’s withstood your attempts to tackle him before, and he lets you kiss all over his face with his eyes scrunched shut and the brightest grin you’ve ever seen him wear.
You lay there together on the floor, his body cushioning yours from the hardwood and you promising him in your mind to massage away all the aches tomorrow, talking late into the night and falling asleep together, breaths in sync.
You wake up in bed, eyes swollen from crying the night before, and jerk as your phone vibrates again on the nightstand.
Oh, so that’s what woke you up, you think, reaching over to flick the button and silence the buzzing.
Jihoon’s not in bed with you, but you can hear him singing in the kitchen, a song you don’t recognize. Something about being ready and wanting to run away and someone being his escape?
You start to roll out of bed, toes tapping to the beat of his song, but stop when you see your phone light up again. Your eyes grow wide at the amount of notifications, the such a beautiful night groupchat being responsible for all of them.
Rubbing your eyes blearily with the back of your hand, you scroll through the messages, trying to catch up.
You see apple cash being exchanged, demands for pictures, requests for the full story, and know Jihoon must have told the guys.
Some people might be upset that he’d shared the news without asking, but you just smile, because it had been them who brought you together in the first place.
It was Soonyoung who growled at you when you were passing him in the street, forcing Jihoon to grab him by the arm and apologize profusely to you.
It was Jun who called the night you first agreed to hang out with them, who recognized your voice and shouted at Jihoon until he passed the phone to you.
It was Seungcheol who begged you both to be designated drivers, desperate to the point of offering the two of you gas money and his firstborn child.
It was Seokmin who broke out into love songs every time you and Jihoon so much as glanced in each other’s direction, and Mingyu who carried him away before either of you got too embarrassed and annoyed to even look at one another.
Memories flicker through your brain like vintage film, your mind recalling moments you and Jihoon shared with each and every one of the guys.
Moments that led you to each other, brought you closer together, allowed this love to grow.
Facilitated it, even.
You’re so lost in thought you don’t notice Jihoon coming in until he scoops you up into his arms bridal style and hauls you into the kitchen, setting you down on the counter and placing a plate of steaming scrambled egg mess on your lap and a fork in your hand.
You reel a bit, trying to catch up to the abrupt location change, and ask Jihoon, “what was that for?”
Jihoon smiles at you, dimples on full display and cheeks pushed up high, and says, “Practice.”
AN: so if y'all couldn't tell by my blog, woozi is my ult and i fear i may be straight up in love with him, evidenced by this fic. i made myself cry with this one and you're legally obligated to tell me if it made you cry too!
this is the pic reader has framed
:'-)
Ps do u guys know what I’m talking about when I said his exhale head shake thing bc I love when he does that and if u dont know I will find it and gif it and reblog it onto the post
boyfriend wonwoo. college student wonwoo. imagine wonwoo w his glasses reading his book while you work on a paper.
pairing 〰 wonwoo x reader
genres 〰 fluff, college bf!wonwoo, established relationship, wonwoo doesn’t like pda but there’s a lil bit of that here, reader’s just so lucky cos college student wonwoo is to die for
warnings 〰 none
summary 〰 your boyfriend wonwoo visits you at your favorite coffee shop after his class.
word count 〰 785
a/n 〰 hiiiii here’s my second drabble for this blog ! i ended up daydreaming of bf wonwoo while i was studying at a coffee shop today, i’m not okay btw … why can’t guys at my uni be like wonwoo :( HAHA hope you like it!!
not edited!
You feel a hand brush over your back as you’re sat hunched over your laptop, working on a paper that was due a few days from today at your favorite coffee shop that was a few blocks away from your university. You quickly turn your head—startled by the contact since you had your earbuds on, only to find your boyfriend looking at you with a small smile.
Wonwoo brushes a few strands of hair away from your face and kisses the top of your head in greeting, “how’s your paper going?” He asks as he settles down on the seat in front of you.
You sigh, “I just started, I had to do a lot of reading beforehand.” You lean back on your chair and pout at him, “I think I need more coffee.”
Your boyfriend chuckles lightly, “how many have you had today?”
“Just two…” You trail off, looking at him with a sheepish smile and he shakes his head at you. It’s only three in the afternoon. “How about something to eat instead, then?” Wonwoo asks.
Wonwoo doesn’t scold you as much as your mother does when drinking coffee, but he makes it a point for you to always have food in your stomach because he can only imagine the amount of caffeine that’s constantly circulating through your body.
You smile at him, “I’ll take a croissant baby, thank you.”
He nods in approval and stands to buy you your food, leaving you to stare at your laptop for a few minutes, racking up your brain to form sentences for your paper.
Wonwoo comes back a few minutes later with your croissant and to your delight, another iced latte that you know is for you. He was about to sit across from you again when you grab his wrist and look up at him, pouting, “can you sit next to me? please.”
He chuckles and obliges, a teasing smile on his face when you scoot over so that he can sit down right next to you, and once he does you immediately latch on to him, hugging his arm while resting your head on his shoulder. “Did you miss me that much already? I was with you before I went to class.”
You ignore his teasing and close your eyes—tightly hugging his arm to feel his warmth, feeling mentally exhausted from reading those journal articles for your paper.
“How was your class?” You ask him, eyes still closed and breathing in his scent. He silently grabs one of your hands that wrapped around his arm, gently taking it off so that he can comfortably wrap it around your waist instead. He pulls you closer and you take this opportunity to nuzzle your face on his neck, sighing contentedly.
Wonwoo is not a fan of huge public displays of affection, and neither are you. The coffee shop was not packed like usual, which is probably why your boyfriend thought he could hold you like this for a little while without feeling uncomfortable.
“I actually have a test coming up for that class, so we just covered some of the possible questions today.” He answers, still holding you while taking a sip of his own drink—an iced americano.
You hum, “good luck baby.”
Wonwoo caresses your side in acknowledgment, and both of you stay quiet for a few minutes until you’ve decided you’ve taken a sufficient break from working on your paper. He has his arm hung loosely around your waist as you sit up and take a sip from your drink.
He takes out his book from his backpack when you begin typing on your laptop again, deciding to read while he waits for you to finish.
Coffee shops and Wonwoo—two things that make you feel at peace. The regular study dates with your boyfriend were one of your favorite forms of quality time, whether it was at coffee shops, his apartment, your dorm, or even the university library.
It’s almost as if Wonwoo knows when to pull you back from working too hard, even in the midst of your comfortable silence. It’s when you carelessly—but unconsciously toss one of your highlighter pens onto the table and let out a small sigh that catches his attention.
His hand lands on your thigh and taps lightly, “do you want to go back to my place? We can watch our show for a few hours and then you can continue your paper if you want.” He asks softly.
You slouch on your seat and turn your head to face your boyfriend, nodding your head with a pout to which he chuckles at. He pats your head lightly, “alright baby, let’s go.”
i would loooove some feedback ♡ have a good day/night!
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