princess treatment 🫧 your nct127 boyfriend is so in love with you
johnny
he opens doors, pulls out chairs, carries your bag without asking. he’s the type to plan entire days around you: brunch at your favorite café, a slow walk through the city, then a drive at sunset with the windows down and his hand resting on your thigh.
he calls you my pretty girl in that cocky voice that makes your stomach flutter
at mornings, he pours your coffee before his own, just the way you like it, two sugars, a touch of cream and slides the mug into your hands like it’s something sacred.
taeyong
taeyong’s version of princess treatment is quiet, detailed, and deeply emotional. he doesn’t need to say much
his love shows up in tiny, perfect ways. he’ll notice if you’re cold before you do, draping his jacket around your shoulders. he’ll cook your favorite meal, decorate it with care, and place it in front of you with a shy smile.
he brushes your hair while you sit on the floor, hums softly when you’re half-asleep, and texts you reminders to eat when he’s away at military
dunnot forget to eat today, honey ´ര ᗜ ര` with that same kaomoji cause he is lee taeyong
yuta
he’ll take you shopping and insist you try on everything that catches your eye, smirking as he says if you like it, you should try it on but the real luxury is how present he is. when he looks at you, it’s like no one else exists.
he leads you into a late night diner and orders for you because he already knows what you’ll want.
his hand stays over yours on the table, thumb tracing slow, lazy circles as he just quietly look around the restaurant. when your food arrives, he cuts your burger in half for you, smirking. let me
doyoung
the two of you are grocery shopping. you reach for the top shelf, and before you can even stretch, doyoung’s already there, grabbing it for you with a quiet got it he’s a little bossy about the list
we’re getting only the healthy kind, no junk food, ya heard? but when he notices your pout, he sighs and drops your favorite snacks into the cart anyway.
at home, while he cooks, he hums under his breath. sit down and don’t touch anything he tells you. when dinner’s ready, he sets your plate in front of you, wiping his hands on a towel.
you're too spoiled by the way
jaehyun
flipping through a few pairs at prada, debating quietly with yourself. jaehyun is right behind you, hands in his pockets, calm as ever. he doesn’t hover, doesn’t push, but he’s paying attention his eyes flick to everything you do.
that one looks good he says softly, nodding toward a sleek black pair you hadn’t been sure about. it makes you pause. think so? you ask.
yeah he shrugs fits your face
and at mid trip stops when you and half the members are going to holidays, he makes sure you are warm since its freaking cold outside. goes inside the market and order you some food, and he just looks so soft with his glasses. as you and mark are already ordering some ice cream and paying with your boyfriends credit card.
jungwoo
jungwoo’s princess treatment is pure softness. he makes you feel adored just by how excited he gets to do things for you. sit down, baby, i’ll do it for you he’ll say, taking the grocery bags out of your hands.
he’ll bring you snacks, wrap you in a blanket burrito, and insist on watching your (his) favorite movie even if he’s seen it a dozen times. (dude it's obviously the incredibles for the ninth time)
you’re standing in front of the mirror, trying to pick what to wear, when jungwoo bursts in holding a headband. this! this one! he says dramatically, placing it on your head. you laugh, but he just beams. see? perfect. my princess.
mark
he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it half the time
e just loves taking care of you. he’ll hold your hand when crossing the street, carry your bag even if it’s small, and text you did you eat? like three times a day.
when you’re feeling low, he’ll order your favorite food and show up with it, sheepishly saying, you looked like you needed this he’ll play your favorite songs while you eat and do that little shy smile whenever you thank him. later, when you’re lying together, he’ll whisper you make it really easy to want to take care of you
then he sits beside you, playing with your hair until you drift off. you hear him whisper you're my whole world, you know that? just before you fall asleep
haechan
he spoils you in ways that make you laugh. he’ll call you my royal highness and kiss you hands when he brings you snacks or my spoiled baby when he tucks you in at night. but beneath all the teasing, he means every bit of it.
he’ll do your nails for fun, feed you bites of dessert, and grin proudly when you roll your eyes i know you love it he’ll say, kissing your cheek
and most important, he change his drink with yours if that matcha you ordered is way too earthy, even tho he doesn't like matcha he'll do it just to make you happy
gosh this taste awful by the way as you happily sip the caramel latte he orderer for himself
genre: fluff, fake dating, friends to lovers , gender neutral reader (some fem elements but identity is vague), post-college AU, one bed trope if you squint
warnings: suggestive, swearing, kissing
playlist:
Astro Afterglow (Kyle Dion) | When Did You Get Hot? (Sabrina Carpenter) | Vacation Eyes - (Jonas Brothers) | Yacht (NCT 127) | Accidentally In Love (Counting Crows)
summary:
Ahead of Doyoung's wedding, you and Jungwoo conspire a fake relationship to avoid unsolicited matchmaking. The line between pretend and reality begins to blur as the weekend unfolds, and now you’re left wondering: is this chemistry just part of the act, or has something real been waiting to surface all along?
author's note: Hi guys!! There is now a prequel to this story set 7 years before the events of sunkissed secrets when the characters are still in college -- in no way do you need to read it to understand this story, but feel free to check it out if you love these characters as much as I do :') -> moonlit memories
It all starts with a royal blue envelope with large, swooping brushstrokes spelling your name and address across the front.
You don’t even need to open it to know what it is: an invitation to Doyoung’s wedding. You toss it aside on your coffee table, unopened.
It remains there for an entire week. When Jungwoo’s name pops up on your phone’s display, you already know what he’s going to ask you about.
You stare at the contact wallpaper–a photo of you and him dressed up as Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy during a college Halloween party–and contemplate letting the call go to voicemail.
Knowing Jungwoo, he never calls unless he has something to say, so you pick up. “What’s up?”
“Did you get the invitation?” He asks point blank.
You eye the envelope from your position on the couch. “…I might have.”
“Why are you acting weird?” You can hear the frown in his voice.
“I’m not acting weird.”
“Well, are you going?” He grills you.
“What are you, the bride?” You scoff. “I just got it. I still have time to fill it out and send it back.”
“That’s not a yes, Jungwoo, I’m going.” There’s a pause. “But it sounds like you haven’t opened it.”
“Fine,” you groan, snatching the envelope from the table and ripping through the thick material along the seam. “Opening it as we speak...You are cordially invited to the wedding of Doyoung and–”
“It’s in three months. Are you going?”
You sigh. Of course he wouldn’t just let it go. “I honestly don’t know, Woos.”
You brace yourself to be chewed out like the time you’d accidentally double booked yourself on the night of Johnny’s debut DJ set. It would be valid; you’re throwing out nonsense that you don’t mean, and Jungwoo is always the one pushing to bring the whole group together. Instead, to your surprise, the other end of the line is quiet. Too quiet.
“Uh, Jungwoo–”
“Are you still going to class tomorrow?”
At the beginning of the year, you and Jungwoo had pledged to restart your fitness journeys by trying out some workout classes together. You’d anticipated a class one week, then maybe another class a couple weeks later. What you hadn’t expected was for Jungwoo to drag you to, at minimum, two instructor-led classes a week in addition to random gym sessions together. Your current predicament was admittedly your own fault–who hasn’t gotten overambitious while setting New Year’s Resolutions?–but you had completely underestimated Jungwoo’s discipline and commitment to taking you to various pilates, strength, and cardio classes.
Tomorrow’s fitness class is spin, and you wince thinking about the burn your legs are about to experience. “Yeah, I’m going.”
“Cool,” he replies. “We’ll talk more then.”
You’re about to protest when the dial tone drones in your ear first.
“Damn it,” you mutter, leafing through the envelope’s contents.
There’s two pieces of paper inside: the invitation itself and a response card to be sent back to the happy couple.
The beige cardstock invitation lists all of the expected information in cursive letters. The wedding is on the coast and, like Jungwoo said, planned for three months from now. Attire: Formal.
The response card has a space for you to fill in your name as well as note your meal of choice. What you don’t expect is, in an additional row, there is a space for you to include information for a guest of choice.
“I fail to see the issue,” Jungwoo says the next day during your post-class lunch. “Isn’t it nice for them to let you bring someone?”
“That’s the thing,” you scoff while stabbing into a piece of chicken. “Doyoung specifically told me that he wasn’t going to give me a plus one.”
“Seemed like he just changed his mind?. First, you refuse to open the invitation, and now you’re mad that he’s paying for you to bring another person. What’s the deal?” Jungwoo’s fork freezes in midair as he squints at you. “...You don’t secretly still have feelings for him, do you?”
“What the fuck? No!” You choke on your water mid-sip.
You've known Doyoung since your second year of university. It was Doyoung that introduced you to everyone else in your close circle–from the upperclassmen that took you under their wing to students around your age. In fact, you’d met Jungwoo during Doyoung’s birthday party, and from then on his presence was cemented in your life.
Doyoung was your club mentor, which meant that he looked out for you and gave you advice while you were a struggling underclassman. It hadn’t taken long for your imagination to run rampant and begin hoping that his considerate gestures would start to feel more romantic in nature.
They never did. You’d kept your crush to yourself, up until you’d accidentally drunk confessed to him during his own graduation party. Doyoung rejected you, kind as always, and the world continued turning. However, your friendship with him never quite recovered to the same level of closeness.
“God no. It’s been years since he rejected me,” you clarify through your coughs, embarrassed. “I am way past having feelings for him.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
The issue, frankly, was that the Doyoung of recent years had made it his apparent life mission to help you find your life partner. Blind dates, holiday parties, other people’s weddings–you could count on a text message from him at any turn.
Speak of the devil, you groan as a text flashes across your screen: I know you’re probably wondering about why I gave you a plus one.
You show Jungwoo, who leans forward in his chair expectantly. “Yes, yes, ask him why.”
I did consider seating you with a couple friends of mine who I think you’d get along with, he texts back without you having to answer. Those are still options if you want, but feel free to bring whoever.
“This is why I didn’t even want to open the invite,” you complain to Jungwoo, who chews on his food thoughtfully. “Do you see what I have to put up with? He’s obviously trying to set me up with someone. Again.”
“I didn’t realize he was still doing this for you,” Jungwoo replies. His eyes seem to look through you, as if distracted by something. “I thought he’d give up by now.”
You had too. You suspect it’s a horrific byproduct of Doyoung’s sense of obligation towards you: the habitual responsibility of a mentor combined with the overwhelming guilt of breaking your heart. It’s one of the reasons why your friendship had waned in the aftermath of your confession; it was one thing to be rejected for all of your mutual friends to see, but having the same man overcompensate by insisting on finding you a life partner was too much.
“Maybe I should just find someone to bring,” you think out loud. At this point, you’re desperate; you might as well try to have an awkward encounter on your own terms. “I could ask around just to get him off my back.”
Usually Jungwoo’s game for entertaining your wacky ideas, but his expression twists into a scowl. He pushes his hair back with one hand. “What is this, a drama? Rent-A-Boyfriend?”
You volley his attitude right back at him. “If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been seeing anyone.”
“I notice. I don’t think you need to.”
“Don’t need to rent a boyfriend? Gather date recommendations? Or start seeing someone?”
“None of those. I’m saying that you have a free, less awkward option right here,” he points one finger at himself. “Me.”
All thoughts eject from your mind. You search for any trace of Jungwoo’s unpredictable humor, but his face is dead serious. He leans toward you calmly, and his brown eyes bore into you without breaking eye contact.
“I–what?” You try to maintain your composure, but you’re completely and utterly baffled. “How on earth would that benefit you in any way?”
“Well, you’re one of my best friends, and I shouldn’t need a reason to help you–”
“Oh hush,” You roll your eyes. “You’re nice, but you’re not that nice. Not even to me. What do you get out of this?”
He swipes through his camera roll before turning his phone around to show you a picture of his invitation from Doyoung. His response card looks identical to yours, down to the space for a guest of choice.
“You’re not the only victim of Doyoung’s matchmaking service,” he says with grim amusement. “He’s been on my ass ever since Kaia and I broke up.”
You wince. Kaia is Jungwoo’s ex-girlfriend of two years; their breakup was mutual, but the forced proximity in a wedding had to be awkward. Kaia is a bridesmaid while Jungwoo is a groomsman, and their relationship was the entire reason why Doyoung had met his fiancee in the first place.
“Sorry, I didn’t even mention it. How are you feeling about the wedding party situation?” You ask.
Jungwoo shrugs. “We didn’t have a bad breakup, and we broke up a while ago. I just want to attend in peace without the pressure of being pushed to date strangers. I’m in the same situation as you.”
He’s right. You’re in the same, Doyoung-generated predicament. “...So in this case, we’d both leave our plus one space blank, RSVP, and then launch our supposed relationship to our friends over the next three months?”
Jungwoo nods. “Everyone’s nosy, so we should probably start telling people a month before. Unless Doyoung asks why our RSVPs don’t have a plus one listed, then we’ll have to tell him first. We’re both going early for pre-wedding activities, and we know all of the same people. We just have to make it believable.”
“Yeah, we know all of the same people,” you repeat his earlier point back to him. “Don’t you think that will make it harder for them to believe that we suddenly got together?”
You’re expecting another jab in your verbal spar, but Jungwoo reaches for your hand instead.
“We’ve been meeting consistently for the past six months for the first time since college,” his voice lowers. “After all this time, it made me re-evaluate the easy chemistry that’s always existed between us, so I asked you out on a date.”
Jungwoo raises your hand so that it hovers right beneath his lips. Your heartbeat flies up to your throat, threatening to choke you as his breath warms your skin and his gaze freezes you in place. You’re transfixed by the suddenness, by the intensity.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of your hand, leaving tingles at the site of contact. Then, he shoots you a shit-eating grin. “And then you can tell everyone that you fell for me after I left you in the dust during every workout class.”
The spell breaks. You yank your hand back and rub circles around the center, as if he burned you. “If you tell everyone that’s the reason, then you’ll have to start attending all of these classes by yourself.”
He raises his eyebrows. “So that’s a yes?”
You pause. Did you want to do this?
At the end of the day, you just want to attend this wedding in peace. As much as you complain about Doyoung’s antics, you wouldn’t miss his wedding for the world. Jungwoo is someone who you can be your true self around, and you know that, despite his silly exterior, he is incredibly loyal and thoughtful. You trust him with your life, and you definitely trust him to take care of you during that wedding weekend.
You hold out your hand. “It’s a yes. Gym bro tryhard.”
“Looking forward to it,” he shakes your hand. “Spin class slowpoke.”
“Pilates princess.”
“Anti-pilates punk.”
“I want a conversation on overall boundaries before we go,” you assert, still shaking his hand.
At this, he smiles. “Of course. Let’s book our flights first and regroup later.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
1 MONTH BEFORE THE WEDDING
Later ends up being a strategy meeting conducted on your living room floor a month before the wedding and the night before Jungwoo happens to have a planned dinner with Doyoung.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jungwoo asks.
“Yes,” you say without hesitation. You’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and now you’re convinced. Jungwoo might be the only one you can pull this off with.
“Alright, so what’s our story?” Jungwoo grins at you. “Since I’m guessing we’re not using the other one I came up with.”
“Definitely not the part you were thinking of,” you glare at him. “...but maybe we could use some of it?”
As much as your pride refuses to let your close friends believe that you suck at all fitness classes, not all of Jungwoo’s original idea was bad.
“Like you said, this is our first time seeing each other consistently since college,” you continue slowly. “Something could’ve developed. That’s the only non-dramatic explanation they’ll believe for how we’ve been able to hide it up until this point.”
He nods. “And what should we tell people our first date was?”
You think for a moment. While you and Jungwoo are decent liars, you’d have to think on your feet to fool the entire group. That meant keeping your lies consistent and memorable enough to maintain continuity…
“Karaoke,” you finally say. You can’t help the evil smile that spreads across your face. “We went back to karaoke.”
Jungwoo throws his head in his hands and groans. “God, you’re the worst.”
It’s a call back the two of you know well–in many ways, your current friendship is the result of Doyoung’s first matchmaking attempt. Convinced that you and Jungwoo would have “mindblowing chemistry,” he persuaded all other attendees to exit the room one by one during his birthday party. Both of you, hammered and firmly engaged in a karaoke competition to get the highest score, did not notice until everyone else was long, long gone.
You remember it as a fond memory of how Jungwoo became one of your best friends. Jungwoo remembers it as when he got so embarrassingly drunk that you had to haul him out of the room on your back.
“Well, you won’t forget it, right?” You laugh. “We’ll say that we’re just seeing where things go. We know each other well enough that we can just go from there.”
“And…” Jungwoo looks hesitant, but he speaks anyway. “About PDA…I’m guessing it would be best if that was off the table.”
“Not necessarily off the table, per se…”
You’re so lost in thought that you completely miss Jungwoo’s wide eyes and red cheeks.
“Hugging and general touching is fine…it’s not like we’ve never hugged before. The only thing I can’t decide,” you swallow. “Is if I’m okay with kissing.”
It’s a little embarrassing to admit out loud, but you haven’t been in a relationship in so long. The idea of receiving your first kiss in forever from a fake relationship depresses you.
Jungwoo, having recovered his composure, crosses his arms as he thinks. “This is going to sound weird, but would you want to practice? Just once, to see if you could even do it without freaking out?”
“Just me?” You challenge him. “You think you’ll be all cool and collected?”
He shrugs. “Only one way to find out, no?”
It’s here, being (respectfully) propositioned by your best friend, that you feel your heart flip against your will. It’s not appreciated.
Despite that, you’re curious. Could you be that good of an actor? “Let’s try,” you hear yourself say.
He squares his shoulders with yours and leans forward. You shut your eyes tightly and brace for impact.
One second. Two seconds. Finally, you feel warm lips press to your cheek.
Your eyes flutter open. “What–”
Jungwoo’s face hovers directly in front of yours, the tips of your noses just barely brushing together. You’re so close that his breath tickles your lips.
“I’m going to do it for real now,” he whispers.
He’s barely moved when you put up your hand as a barrier between you. Jungwoo’s lips press to your palm instead.
“I don’t think I could fake something like this,” you say quietly.
He pulls away immediately, the same big smile that you know making its way to his face. “No problem. It’s good for us to know our limits before everything starts.”
You feel the vague need to apologize, but you shake it off. If Jungwoo wasn’t offended, then you shouldn’t feel weird about it…right? Why do you get the sense that something feels different?
Jungwoo immediately launches into another topic, facial features relaxed like nothing happened, but you feel the almost-kiss haunting you in the back of your mind.
It’s just because I’m out of practice, you think. You let yourself believe it. The next kiss I have will be for real.
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
DAY 1 - THE WELCOME PARTY
The bustle and chatter of the airport sends a rush of adrenaline through you. Your hands feel clammy, but you’re not sure if it’s from the summer heat or the nerves surrounding the weekend ahead of you.
“This is your last chance to back out,” you warn Jungwoo.
Jungwoo glances up from his phone, a dumbfounded look on his face. “It’s a little late for that. Everyone already knows we’re ‘together.’”
Jungwoo’s plan had worked flawlessly; Doyoung had spread the news like wildfire. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours until the others had started blowing up your phone with question after question.
“I don’t know, we can say that we decided to just be friends,” you insist, stubborn.
Jungwoo sighs. “So you do want Doyoung to set us up with other people out of pity?”
“No,” you mumble.
Your best-friend-turned-fake-boyfriend rolls his eyes. “That’s what I thought. Now come on, Johnny’s already waiting.”
Johnny is simultaneously the best and worst person to interface with first. Fooling Johnny means you can fool just about anyone; there’s hardly anyone else who knows you both as well as him. However, that also meant that Johnny would be the most likely one to sense any bullshit.
He leans against a rental car, reaching out his arms to catch you in a hug. “Long time no see!”
Johnny and Jungwoo hug next, and Johnny takes a long look at the two of you after they separate. “...Ready for the best weekend ever?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” you shrug, reaching for the handle of your suitcase.
Jungwoo’s hand closes over yours, prying off your grip gently. “Let me get it, honey.”
Your hand freezes in place as your brain stutters at being called honey, but then you quickly recover. “Thanks,” you say as you allow him to lift your bag. “...Honey.”
“Gross,” Johnny snorts.
“Shut up,” you glare at him as Jungwoo also takes the opportunity to open your door for you.
Johnny shrugs and climbs into the driver’s seat.
“So,” Johnny says after you’ve closed the door behind you and Jungwoo is out of earshot. “You and Jungwoo, huh?”
The latter lugs your bags around the car and into the trunk. Despite yourself, you smile. “Yeah, me and Jungwoo.” You slide your eyes back to your driver, who smirks at you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason,” he says without dropping his grin. “Just happy to see you happy, that’s all.”
There’s an undercurrent of amused secrecy in his eyes, but you don’t press further. With Johnny, it could be anything.
“Okay,” Jungwoo calls while letting himself into the backseat. “We’re all good to go.”
“Anything we should know before the welcome party?” You ask as Johnny starts the car. It’s strange, referring to your fake duo as we, but it feels fitting.
“Everything should go as expected,” Johnny says. “A lot of people are curious about the two of you, though.”
“Really?” You ask. “It’s already been a month since we started telling people.”
“Well, duh. You guys have been best friends for seven years, were nearly attached at the hip during college, and now you decide to start something?” Johnny rolls his eyes. “Of course we’re curious.”
You’re about to argue again, but Jungwoo speaks first. “Is everything else going to plan, event wise?”
“Well, about that,” Johnny grins. “I may have to put you guys to work first.”
–
The room intended for the welcome dinner is completely devoid of, well, anything save for the chairs and tables propped up against the walls.
You and Jungwoo stare at Johnny, jaws dropped, while still dragging your luggage behind you.
“What time is dinner, again?” You ask, but you’re afraid to know the answer.
“6:30PM.”
You check the time on your phone. 5:30PM. You immediately start dragging chairs from off the wall.
“I’ll drop our stuff off in our room first,” Jungwoo mutters. “Unless you’d rather do it?”
“I can stay here,” you say with a chair in each hand.
He nods and rolls all of your things away. Ideally, you would’ve wanted to scope out your room—it was apparent during your scheming that a shared room would be unavoidable, for obvious reasons, but it would be nice to see what you’re working with.
You and Johnny get to work, dragging chairs across the floor and staggering tables throughout the length of the room.
“You’re lucky that Jungwoo’s been dragging my ass to work out,” you grumble. Your muscles are already tightening from the increased load. “Otherwise I’d be even less help.”
“Some pre-wedding conditioning and true love, eh?” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “Cosmic timing.”
Your face burns despite knowing it’s a joke. Leave it to Johnny to prod right where you’ll be embarrassed. You wish Jungwoo was here to come up with a reply. He was much more adept at thinking on his feet with Johnny; the latter had a way of always clocking others without thinking too hard about it.
“Think the others will be pissed that they didn’t hear from one of us first?” You ask, nerves suddenly kicking in. You’d thought letting the gossip train do the heavy lifting was more conducive for your overall mental health and story consistency, but now you’re not so sure.
“Nah, you’re fine. I think.” Johnny pauses. “Although, we should go out to bars or something together as a group. It’s been too long. Maybe tomorrow? There’s nothing concrete planned.”
“That’s a little close to the wedding day, don’t you think?” You know that Doyoung had his bachelor party a couple of weeks ago, so there’s no need for the guys to go too crazy.
He shrugs. “We’re only going to be on the coast all together for Doyoung’s wedding once. What’s the harm in a few drinks?”
“What was that about drinks?” Jungwoo’s voice rings from behind you.
“You were up there for a while.” You peer at him from over your shoulder. “Is everything alright with the room?”
“Oh, the room?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
You stare at him, trying to catch his eye, but his eyes seem to bounce in every possible direction except yours. You don’t believe Jungwoo in the slightest, but you let it go. “...Johnny was saying that we should hit up the bars tomorrow.”
Jungwoo busies himself with setting up the tablecloths. “Sounds good to me.”
Fifteen minutes before the planned start time, Doyoung finally shows up and throws his arms around all three of you.
“Thank you guys for saving me,” he says with a relieved exhale. “Everyone else will be here soon.”
“Everything looks great,” you smile.
It’s meant to be a reassuring gesture, but your words instead cause him to register that it’s not just you and Jungwoo, his friends helping out–it’s you and Jungwoo, the totally real couple debuting at his wedding.
Doyoung clamps a hand on you and Jungwoo’s shoulders with a sentimental sniffle. “I always knew that the two of you would be amazing together.”
Jungwoo rolls his eyes. “Oh brother.”
Your eye twitches. “You thought that we would always be an amazing couple even as you tried to set us up with total strangers?”
“Pfft,” Johnny laughs, enjoying every second.
“So what, maybe some things needed to fail so this could succeed,” Doyoung shoots back. “Then you can’t really say any of your past relationships or blind dates were a waste.”
“Sure we can,” Jungwoo responds in a fake-cheerful tone. “It was all a waste.”
“Enough arguing,” a voice snaps from behind you. “We only have ten minutes, and we still have to bring the food in.”
Taeyong stands at the door, arms crossed over his chest. Behind him is the rest of the wedding party, including the bridesmaids.
Jaehyun waves next to him. “Catering just showed up.”
You can’t even get excited at seeing your old friends again because you’re rooted to the spot. You look over at Jungwoo’s expression, which freezes with the same realization as you.
Standing among the bridesmaids is Jungwoo’s ex-girlfriend, Kaia, who has presumably just heard Jungwoo call all of his past relationships a waste. Her face is even and cool, but the rest of the girls split between glaring at Jungwoo or avoiding eye contact altogether.
Ironically, it’s also Kaia that breaks the awkward pause first. “Jaehyun’s right, and we need some extra hands to unload. Can I have half of the group unloading and the other half to help finish setting up the tables?”
Everyone breaks, eager to get away from the awkward atmosphere. The groups naturally divide into the groomsmen (plus you) heading outside to unload, while the bridal party stay inside.
Before you follow the others you give Kaia a half hug. Despite their current status as exes, you’d gotten along well with Kaia during their relationship “Nice to see you.”
“Same here,” she says, but her smile stops just short of her eyes.
You nod and head towards the exit. Distantly, you hear Jungwoo start to greet Kaia on his own, but you hurry out before you can hear anything.
“That was fucked up,” you say to Jaehyun outside before pulling him into a hug. “Hi, by the way.”
“It’ll be alright,” Jaehyun shrugs. “I feel like most people know what he meant.”
“Yeah, but me being there also looks pretty bad. Like we’re rubbing it in her face.”
He shrugs again. “People will see what they want to see, right?.”
It’s a weird and aloof response, even coming from someone as succinct as Jaehyun. You squint at him. “Did Jungwoo tell you something?”
Of course, you mean something along the lines of Did Jungwoo tell you that this whole thing is fake? You give up when Jaehyun shrugs for the third time. “He tells me a lot of stuff.”
You don’t have time for this; you’ll just ask Jungwoo directly later. If Jungwoo was to tell anyone at this wedding, it would be Jaehyun. He’s the only one of the group who could keep a secret of this magnitude; the others are far too nosy. While you were close enough with Jaehyun, most of the closeness was derived from him being Jungwoo’s college housemate. No matter how well the two of you got along, Jaehyun’s loyalty to Jungwoo would always supersede his fondness of you.
You’re expecting the same outright curiosity that Johnny had while picking you up from the airport, but all further conversation seems to avoid the subject entirely. You’re both confused and grateful; you’re glad that you can actually enjoy your time catching up with your friends, but you expected at least some level of questioning.
After all of the unloading and initial mingling, you eventually find Jungwoo again once everyone is seated for dinner.
“How was your conversation with Kaia?” You ask quietly.
“Fine,” he says under his breath. “She wasn’t super thrilled about what I said in front of everyone, but she knows what I meant and where I’m coming from.”
You wait for him to share more–he’d talked to her for a long time, after all–but he stops there. You resist the urge to prompt him further; it’s really none of your business.
“Hey everyone,” Doyoung waves from the front of the room. “I’m just going to say a few things and make a quick toast.”
All of the guests, including yourself, raise their glasses in the air. There’s a few rogue cheers from your side of the room.
“I just want to thank everyone for coming out and traveling to celebrate with us this weekend. Every person here is very important to us either as individuals or within our journey as a couple, and we’re already grateful for all of the support we’ve received leading up to this…”
Jungwoo leans over to you. “Do you think he’s going to cry?”
“For sure,” you whisper back. “His eyes are already misty.”
The two of you spend the rest of his speech waiting in anticipation of Doyoung’s tears; you’re rewarded at the very end when he raises his glass and a single tear runs down his cheek.
“To this weekend,” he says, raising a champagne flute.
“To this weekend,” people repeat, raising their own glasses.
“To this weekend,” Jungwoo says to you directly, his eyebrows raised. You feel a flush of heat up your neck, and you rush to sip your drink.
The rest of the dinner goes by in a blur. Sure, you’re pulled into a few conversations here and there, but everything is rightfully focused on the happy couple.
Like before, you get the sneaking suspicion that no one wants to outright ask about your supposed relationship. You notice many more subtle indicators–catching someone staring from across the room, or a whisper when Jungwoo places his hand on the small of your back to guide you around tight corners.
You’re definitely being observed, but luckily you don’t have to alter many of your pre-existing habits with Jungwoo anyway. When you really think about it, aside from answering specific questions about your relationship, it all feels relatively normal.
You’re there up until the end, when it’s just you and the wedding party putting away all the furniture.
Once all of the big things have been put away, Johnny nearly shoves you out of the door.
“You’ve done enough,” he says. “See you guys at bars tomorrow?”
You’re about to insist on staying to help, but Jungwoo nods and takes your hand in his. “We’ll be there.”
Reluctantly, you let him pull you out of the room and into the elevator.
“I could’ve helped,” you mumble.
“I know,” he says as he presses the button to your floor. “But you look exhausted. We helped enough earlier. They have way more people now, so we’re not really needed anymore.”
It’s blunt, but you don’t protest. Your body is coming down from being awake and active for so long; you slouch against Jungwoo while squeezing his hand to anchor yourself.
The elevator dings and the doors open in front of you. Jungwoo leads you to the second door in the hallway and hesitates. He finally drops your hand.
“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head. “Did you forget the key inside?”
“No–um, there’s something I should tell you before we go inside,” Jungwoo says, sliding himself in between you and the door. “The room–”
You stare at him. “I don’t care, Woos.” After a long day of travelling, manual labor, and then socializing with small talk, you can barely keep your eyes open. “Let me in.”
“No but really, I didn’t have time, and you can look at it first, but maybe we should request a room change–”
“Unless it’s unsanitary, nothing can be that big a deal. We’ve shared a room before!” You don’t know what he has to be embarrassed about; you don’t care if there’s one bed or even if there’s two sleeping bags on the floor as long as you can sleep within the next half an hour.
“I just–ugh, fine!” He throws up his hands, allowing you to swipe your copy of the room key and push through the door. You don’t make it far, stopping just after the entryway.
For one thing, there’s definitely two beds. Sure, they’re pushed together to make what’s effectively a frankenstein-esque king bed, but it’s more than big enough to fit two. It’s everything else in the room that makes your jaw drop to the floor.
The walls are painted with artwork of various marine life with a nice baby blue backdrop. There’s a fish tank centered on the wall with real exotic fish that you hope are legal. It’s completely over the top, but the sea motif is the most consistent theme in the entire space. What’s out of place are the two large mirrors; one hanging on the oceanic wall next to the fish tank and the other on the ceiling directly above the beds.
“What on earth is this theming,” you mutter, walking into the room toward the foot of the franken-bed. Rose petals are scattered all around the room and arranged on the bedsheets themselves to spell out the word LOVE surrounded by a huge heart.
“By the logic of the tank being placed right by this mirror,” You look at your reflection in the big mirror. “Are the fish supposed to watch or something?”
“You’re feeling awfully funny right now,” Jungwoo says under his breath. His face is bright red.
“It’s pretty funny.” You start picking the rose petals off the sheets one-by-one. “I’m surprised that you didn’t keep it a secret and film my reaction.”
Jungwoo floats into the bathroom to get ready for bed. “I knew that the welcome dinner could be tiring for you, so I didn’t want the room to make things feel weird.”
You follow his lead, unpacking your things and locating the items needed for your nighttime routine.
Did things feel weird? You had spent the better part of the day pretending to be infatuated with your best friend, and the sentiment seemed to be bleeding into the room’s theme itself. The theme, however strange and too aquatic-themed, was clearly intended for couples.
Despite the situation, you’re able to shake it off. Jungwoo, on the other hand, stays silent as you both brush your teeth, and he doesn’t speak even as you both crawl under the sheets of your respective beds. A soft feeling of guilt rushes through you; you wonder if you were too quick to take him at his word when he offered to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend.
“Goodnight,” you say softly.
“Goodnight,” he says as you turn off the lights.
There’s still a faint blue glow in the room from the mini aquarium in the wall. You lay on your back, eyes wandering into the mirror above the bed. Jungwoo rustles and turns onto his back next to you, both of you startling when your eyes connect in the mirror.
It’s enough to break the tension as you both devolve into a fit of giggles.
“Today went well,” he mutters, turning his head to actually look at you. “You did a good job.”
“Thanks, I think.” The praise makes you feel a little embarrassed, so you change the subject. “Today wasn’t weird at all from my end, at least. I just wonder if I’ve made a mistake, asking you to do all of this for me.”
“I’m the one who told you to choose me over some rando,” He props himself up, resting his head on one hand. “You’re not the only one benefitting from this, anyway. I don’t mind talking more when the questions get invasive.”
“Thanks, Woos,” you say, eyes closing, as you can no longer fight your exhaustion. “You’re crazy for doing this with me, but you’re the best.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” you hear him say as you drift off into sleep. “I’d do anything for you, really.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
DAY 2 - BARS
The next day, Johnny and Taeyong manage to convince everyone to make it out to the bars. The hotel is a drive away from any nightlife with no rideshare options available; your group ends up splitting into two cars with you and Jungwoo as the drivers.
Jungwoo volunteers to drive Doyoung to pick up the non-groomsmen–Yuta, Mark, and Haechan–straight from the airport, so your car ends up being Johnny, Taeyong, and Jaehyun. They heckle you for nearly the entire drive there.
“Do you and Jungwoo have pet names for each other?” Taeyong teases.
“They do,” Johnny fake-grimaces. “Honey.”
“I’ll drop you both on the side of the road if you’re not careful,” you snap.
“I’m actually curious, though,” Taeyong says while crossing his arms. “What made you realize it was time to try?”
You hesitate; in all possible scenarios of being asked this question, you’d always focused on Jungwoo being the one to make the supposed first move. However, there were presumably two people in this relationship, and you hadn’t thought far ahead enough to formulate an answer in advance. Put on the spot, you start thinking of what you did feel when Jungwoo offered to be your boyfriend for the weekend.
“I…I was surprised when he asked me out,” you start. “Honestly, I didn’t see it going there.”
The others nod and wait for you to finish.
“It’s just easy with him,” you rush through the words. Even as a backstory for a fake relationship, it doesn’t feel any less embarrassing to say out loud. “So I gave it a chance.”
There’s a pause before Taeyong speaks. “Makes sense. It’s always been easy with you two.”
The group is quiet as you search for a parking spot. Your palms are clammy on top of the wheel; you wonder if your explanation wasn’t good enough. Wouldn’t anyone be more excited to gush about a supposed fresh relationship?
You find a spot right next to Jungwoo’s rental car, although you have no idea how they beat you here. Johnny and Taeyong climb out of the car. Their voices raise in excitement as they head toward the bar entrance. Jaehyun lingers behind, opening and closing your door for you.
“It’s a good thing,” he says.
You raise your eyebrows. “...It’s good that I drove?”
Jaehyun shakes his head. “That you gave him a chance. It’s good for both of you, and it’s not that surprising, anyway.”
A man of few words, he heads toward the bar without anything further to say. You follow behind, more confused than before–maybe Jaehyun is just as much in the dark as the others.
The atmosphere shifts instantly upon entering; the room is filled with various different celebrations, from birthdays to bachelorette parties. The group in Jungwoo’s car has flooded one of the larger tables in the corner. In the short time spent waiting for the other half of the group, they’ve been able to order an assortment of alcohol spread across the entirety of the table.
You sidle over to Jungwoo’s side, who hovers at the very end. “Did you even try to get them to hold back?”
“You know they wouldn’t,” he mutters back. “They were all practically rioting in my car earlier.”
He’s right. What your friend group lacks in common interests you make up for with a few shared qualities: loyalty, ambition, and unwavering stubbornness. When any majority somehow manages to form, going against the group opinion evolves into an all-out war.
Tonight’s group mission is united without having to speak: get Doyoung as drunk as possible. They’re pulling out all the stops: group shots, drinking games, and giving him a hard time for slowing down. You’ve never been so grateful to be a designated driver; if you and Jungwoo weren’t behind the wheel, you’re sure that your new relationship would’ve generated additional targets on your backs. Instead, everything devolves in front of your eyes in real time as you watch everyone else get shit-faced.
Not that staying sober really helps Jungwoo’s case. As always, he contributes to the mayhem by joking and messing around with the others.
You don’t hear how it starts, but you do hear Jungwoo’s frustrated tone cutting through the music.
“You realize how ridiculous you sound, right?” He argues. “I literally drove you here.”
Haechan dangles his beer in the area. “I’m just saying you should enjoy one beer to toast Doyoung.”
“You know I can’t.”
“You can’t because what, again?” Haechan cups a hand to his ear dramatically. He winks when his eyes connect with yours.
You roll your eyes at the theatrics. You’d volunteered to drive because you didn’t feel like drinking tonight, but everyone knew why Jungwoo had offered right after you. One drink turned his face beet red, and three held the very real possibility of sending him on his ass.
Jungwoo doesn’t take the obvious bait. “I’m seriously considering making you walk back to the hotel.”
“I’ll steal the keys before you can try,” Haechan sticks his tongue out.
“You should arm wrestle for it,” Johnny offers while taking a sip of his beer. The corners of his mouth curve upward. “If Jungwoo wins, Haechan has to walk back.”
“What if I win?” The latter complains.
“How about we don’t make anyone walk back drunk,” Mark interjects. Uneasiness laces his voice.
You lose track of the conversation as Johnny and Mark talk about fair punishments while Jungwoo and Haechan continue their argument.
You look to the peaceful side of the group. Yuta has floated to the other end of the space to compliment someone on their outfit, and Jaehyun scrolls on his phone while nursing a drink.
Throughout the chaos, one question pops into your head: where did Doyoung go?
You do a precursory glance around the room, but you don’t see his face popping out in the crowd. You text him first, but you grow antsy after your texts go unanswered for ten minutes. Leaving the others to their own devices, you begin to turn around the space.
You finally find Doyoung sitting at a different corner table by himself with his head in his hands. You glance around for any of the guys, but you’ve lost sight of all them.
“Hey,” you say, sliding into the chair next to him. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m tired!” he complains over the music.
“Of course you are,” you say back. Doyoung’s never been one for a long night out. “We can leave when we go back to everyone else.” It’s an empty promise–you would love to return to the hotel, but you doubt the others will let him get away that easily.
He eyes you, now registering the lack of a certain someone. “Why isn’t Jungwoo with you?”
You shrug. “Same reason why your fiancee isn’t here. We don’t have to be together all the time.”
“Yeah, but the two of you are usually together,” he points out. “Even before. That’s why I was surprised that it took you two this long to be together.”
At this point, you can’t resist asking. “Everyone keeps saying something like that. What made everyone so certain that we were going to get together?”
“You guys have always just gotten along since day one,” Doyoung shrugs. “It was the easiest connection ever.”
You stare at him. “You realize you were the one to abandon us in a karaoke room together, right?”
He throws up his hands. “It was my birthday, so you can’t blame me.”
“As you love to remind me. Either way, I wouldn’t call that an easy, natural connection.”
“If you want the real answer?” Doyoung continues. “It always made sense. You were always the one denying the attraction, so that was the only real boundary holding you guys back this entire time.”
Everything stops. “What do you mean by that?”
He scowls. “What, he hasn’t told you–?”
“There you guys are!” Johnny and Taeyong nearly leap over to you. Johnny tugs you back to your feet. Taeyong tries to get Doyoung on his, but the latter fights back.
“I wanna leave!” He shouts.
“We can leave after Jungwoo and Haechan finish their last game,” Taeyong says.
That catches your attention. “...Game?”
Sure enough, Jungwoo and Haechan’s argument has escalated from arm wrestling into a gauntlet of dumb party games, and now the two have run through the various materials available in the corner of the bar.
The others decided the tie breaker via majority vote, which is how your entire group ends up circled around the most intense game of Jenga ever.
The two stack wooden blocks as if they’re architects. The level of care in itself extends the game for much longer than it should be.
You lean over to Johnny. “Did they settle on a punishment for Jungwoo?”
“They just said Doyoung would decide,” he responds back. “So good luck with that.”
On cue, Jungwoo’s hand slips while placing his block, and the entire tower tumbles down.
“I get a ride back!” Haechan cheers. “You lose, Doyoung chooses!” He drags Mark with him around the perimeter of the bar for a victory lap.
You think that’s it, time to go back, until Doyoung starts shouting over the music.
“You lost the bet!” Doyoung points his finger in Jungwoo’s face. “Shot! Shot! Shot!”
“Again, not an option,” Jungwoo flicks his finger away. “I’m one of your drivers, dummy.”
You’re laughing at the interaction, amused, until Doyoung points his finger in your face. “Fine, then kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
“What the fuck?” You shriek, but the sound is covered by Johnny and Taeyong joining in with the chant. Jaehyun doesn’t participate, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his face.
Jungwoo squares his shoulders to yours. His expression is carefully crafted; calm enough to conceal the awkwardness of the situation to the others while just neutral enough to be unreadable to you. For once, you have no idea what Jungwoo is thinking.
He leans forward, stopping only for a second in front of you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers before pressing his lips to yours.
He tastes like tea with a hint of citrus. Jungwoo’s lips move against yours with care, as if you’re something fragile at risk of breaking; you hear wolf whistles as you kiss him back.
Kissing Jungwoo is nothing like you expected. It’s as if all of the day-to-day attitude he exhibits with you–lighthearted and easygoing–has been completely flipped on its head. His left arm holds your waist with a firm confidence, and you’re quickly swept away by the intensity.
His right hand cradles your jaw, and you grasp at his shirt to steady yourself. You end up needing the extra stability; you stumble when he finally pulls away. You catch your breath with gulps of air and press the backs of your hands to your cheeks. The skin is hot to the touch, and you appreciate the dim lights of the bar to at least partially mask your expression.
Jungwoo looks as dazed as you feel, with his lips slightly parted and his eyes unfocused. “I–”
“You know I hate PDA!” You spin around and punch Doyoung’s shoulder. “You’re lucky we’re here to celebrate you!”
“Sorry, sorry! I knew you’d hate it.” He laughs through the punches. “ But it’s not really a punishment, anyway.”
Taeyong succeeds with roping everyone else into a final drink before leaving. When it’s finally time to go, the guys exit the bar whooping and shoving each other. You and Jungwoo linger at the back of the group.
“Are you okay?” He asks so only you can hear.
Your lips still tingle from the kiss. Your heart skips a beat as you catch another hint of citrus. Jungwoo’s shoulder brushes against yours with each step; the proximity makes your thoughts scatter wildly.
“I’m fine,” you say as you take a step back.
He frowns. “Even if you’re not–”
“Unlock the car!” Haechan and Doyoung boo from the side of Jungwoo’s rental car.
“Looks like you’re needed.” You exhale in a half-laugh. “Don’t worry about me. We’ll talk later, okay?”
The passengers in your car are much more self-contained. They’re definitely drunk, but they’re less rowdy and more content. You hand Johnny the aux and turn the volume way up to minimize the risk of any chatter.
Despite being sober, you’re completely overwhelmed. From the group chaos to the kiss to what feels like everyone this weekend commenting on how much you and Jungwoo make sense–your head spins around and around.
You’d expected to be fighting for your life during this whole experience, but, aside from the awkwardness from Kaia’s presence, everything’s gone by extremely smoothly. Your entire group, while teasing you, has taken this sudden relationship in good spirits. Sure, there had been questions initially, but your answers have been received without many questions. Definitely less than you’d expected. Why is no one that surprised?
You beat Jungwoo to the room, and a short check-in over the group chat confirms that his entire car is currently taking care of drunk Doyoung.
You get ready for bed with unprecedented speed. By the time Jungwoo cracks the door open, you’re nestled under the covers with your eyes closed.
You’re not asleep, of course, but you try to relax your breathing in a believable way. You’re not ready to face him yet. Jungwoo has a sixth sense for when something’s bothering you, and right now he’ll take one look at you and start getting concerned.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps as he settles in the bed next to yours, but you merely roll onto your other side as if turning in your sleep. You force yourself to stay quiet, even as he whispers a goodnight in the space between you.
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
DAY 3 - BEACH BOMBSHELL
You wake up the next morning to rustling in the bed next to you. You peek an eye open, seeing Jungwoo’s side profile in the slight morning glow as he sits up.
“Leaving?” You mumble through heavy eyelids.
“Going on a run before heading over to meet the guys,” he says. He pats the top of your head and tucks a rogue baby hair away from your forehead. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”
The next time you wake up, the room feels large and open around you. Judging from the bright light leaking through the curtains, you’ve slept in past noon. Jungwoo made his bed perfectly; aside from the faint scent of citrus lingering in the room, it’s like he was never there in the first place.
Your phone reminds you that he was, as there’s a text waiting for you: heading to the beach after lunch. Wanna come?
Sure, you respond. I just woke up, though.
Take your time, comes the response.
You blink away the bleariness in your eyes and roll out of bed. You will yourself through your morning (now technically afternoon) routine, elongating each step as you go. You hesitate while applying your makeup. Should you try to look like you’ve put in no effort at all, or should you go for a full face?
Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, and you shake yourself out of it. Why were you even thinking about this? There’s nothing wedding-related planned today–you know that Jungwoo has a rehearsal dinner due to being in the wedding party, but that leaves you with a fully free day. And today, you’re doing nothing more than spending the afternoon with your best friend.
As if he can hear your internal agony, your phone vibrates with another message from Jungwoo.
Attachment: 1 Image
You tap on the message without thinking. Then, your jaw drops.
It’s a selfie in the reflection of whatever window Jungwoo’s found himself in front of. His phone hovers in front, obscuring the bottom half of his face. Jungwoo’s shoulders contrast the various blues in the background, showing off golden hints of a tan. Even though his posture slouches forward, you can clearly see the defined outline of muscle down his arms.
Another text whooshes into your chat: kinda hot out, but the water is nice :) can you bring sunscreen?
Your heart stutters in your chest. The water is the last thing that you’re thinking about right now. You can’t tear your eyes off of the picture–every detail, every curve of skin seems to burn itself into your brain.
Throughout the years, there’d been no shortage of people interested in Jungwoo. Enough people had looked to you specifically as a wingman, which seemed like a no-brainer. You were the longtime best friend with no previous or current romantic interest in him.
It’s like a switch has flipped within your mind. You’ve literally seen his physique develop before your eyes this year, but now you inspect his muscle definition with newfound curiosity. His hands holding his phone remind you of his gentle touches on your waist and jaw. Even when you look at his hair, unstyled and messy, you wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. After all, you hadn’t had the chance to touch it last night.
Your phone turns off from the inactivity, which leaves a black screen reflecting your stupified face back at you. It’s enough to ground you back to where you are: standing in front of the bathroom mirror with your phone in one hand and makeup brush in the other.
You slap the rest of your makeup on your face and slide into your swimsuit and beach outfit before rushing out the door.
You lean against the back of the elevator, mind racing. Trying to unpack the kiss had kept you tossing and turning last night, and now it was interfering with your ability to think straight.
It’s only a fifteen minute walk down to the beach. The water is as blue and clear as the afternoon sky above, and the sand warms the bottom of your feet as you trek toward Jungwoo’s location. Despite the unsettled feelings swirling around in your gut, the salty breeze relaxes your shoulders and leads you toward a sense of peace. It’s a welcome refuge from the past couple of days.
Jungwoo lays back in a folding chair on the sand with a hat covering his face from the sun. The rest of his body splays out in the open in all of its tanned glory.
It’s a completely normal beach look consisting of only blue and white striped swim trunks, but you fight back embarrassment as you hold out a bottle of sunscreen. “As requested.”
“Thank god.” He squints up at you. “It’s so hot, isn’t it?”
His abs ripple as he sits up to grab the sunscreen.
“Yeah,” you say while looking away. “Super hot.”
You focus instead on the other beachgoers. There’s plenty of people lounging around, but closer to the waves there’s no shortage of kids playing in the sand or people playing frisbee with their dogs. It’s enough to make you feel at ease without feeling overwhelmed by a crowd.
Without the weekend’s social pressure, you can finally appreciate the natural beauty of your location. It’s breathtaking enough in its natural state with the blue waters juxtaposing the white sands – you’re sure that Doyoung’s ceremony will be absolutely stunning.
A cool sensation on your shoulder causes goosebumps to raise on your forearms, and you shudder at the contact. It’s just a dollop of sunscreen, and Jungwoo grins behind you.
“I told you it’s nice out here.” He says as he hands you the bottle.
Your nose wrinkles. “What if I already applied before coming down?”
“Did you?”
“No,” you say as you squirt a generous amount into your hands and apply across your body. “But I could’ve.”
“I knew you wouldn’t,” he says. “If I’ve learned anything from the past couple of days, it’s that you get ready super slowly.”
He’s got you there. You conveniently ignore him and focus your efforts into attempting to apply sunscreen on your back. You do decently well until your mobility fails to let you progress past your traps.
Jungwoo holds back laughter as he witnesses your struggle. “Want some help?”
“Sure,” you grumble while crossing your arms over your chest.
His hands are surprisingly cool for being outside in the sun. Jungwoo applies light pressure as he pats sunscreen from your shoulders down the length of your back. Your breath catches as he brushes near the curve of your neck; you pray that he didn’t notice.
“Alright!” He says as he tosses the bottle aside. “Now the real fun begins!”
You’re about to ask what real fun entails when you turn and see a pair of goggles over his forehead.
“I am not diving or snorkeling right now,” you say.
“That’s fine,” he shrugs. A mischievous glint enters his eyes, and without warning he takes your hand in his and drags you out toward the water. “Still making you come out with me, though!”
You’re resisting his pull, but Jungwoo’s hand refuses to let you go. At some point you finally give in, and within moments you’re waist deep in the water while watching your best friend dip underneath the surface.
You sink further down and allow the water to cool you in the hot sun. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of seagulls flying above. It’s a welcome reprieve; for the first time since arriving, you’re able to fully relax.
“Hey!” You crack open your eyes at Jungwoo’s voice. A small wave of water splashes your face and blurs your vision.
“Not fair!” You waste no time in thrashing in your own arms in the water towards him. “You have goggles!”
You haven’t waged a water fight in at least ten years, but you face your opponent with gusto. Your movements are big yet largely uncontrolled, while Jungwoo takes pointed aim during strategic moments. It’s only with him that you can access this carefree side of yourself; it’s as if his presence alone makes all other worries flutter away to another day.
By the end of it, you’re drenched and your stomach hurts from laughing. You nearly crawl back to the beach chairs to dry off.
“Not too bad, right?” Jungwoo asks as he rubs his head furiously with a towel.
You tilt your head to drain the excess seawater from your ears. “Not too bad.”
The two of you fall into a comfortable quiet, existing in each other’s presence.
You’re watching a fluffy cloud slide across the horizon when Jungwoo props himself up on his elbows. “Would you be open to a couples massage before I leave for the rehearsal dinner?”
Your head nearly snaps off your neck. “You booked one?”
“No, Doyoung did.” He shakes his head and points to the phone in his hand. “I thought he felt bad about yesterday, but apparently he can’t cancel since it’s no refunds with last-minute cancellation fees. If you don’t want to go then I don’t mind going alone.”
You ignore the flutter in your stomach and opt to be a team player. “Better not let that go to waste, then. I’m down.”
“Cool,” Jungwoo says as he types something on his phone. “I’ll let him know we can make it.”
You close your eyes and lean back in your chair.
“Are you pretending to sleep?” Jungwoo asks.
“No?” You respond, eyes still closed. “Why would I?”
“The same reason why you pretended to be asleep last night?”
You jolt upwards. “What?”
The guilt must be painted all across your face. Jungwoo snorts. “Knew it.”
“I was trying to fall asleep,” you protest weakly. “Promise.”
“Which still means that there’s something preventing you from sleeping that we need to talk about.” He gives you a pointed look. “You’re trying to play it off, but I know you’re freaked out about yesterday.”
Your throat dries up, and your eyes fix on the horizon. “I’m not freaked out.”
“Look at me,” he says. You force yourself to meet his gaze. Jungwoo searches your face. “See, you totally are.”
You circumvent an apology before he has the chance to say anything. “It’s okay, Woos. It would’ve been totally weird if we insisted on not doing it.”
“But there are other ways I could’ve gone about it to get them off our backs. Kissing you doesn’t even make sense as a punishment,” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, “and it was your non-negotiable. I could’ve at least done that for you.”
A pang of guilt thrums at the bottom of your stomach. How are you supposed to explain that you’re not even upset at all, let alone upset about him kissing you–you’re confused that you enjoyed it. That, if you’d been in private, it would’ve been too easy to lose yourself in his touch.
You can’t. Not without igniting a bomb. Instead, you force a smile on your face and pivot to humor. “Make it another one on Doyoung’s tab. I promise I’m okay.”
“Alright.” Jungwoo finally cracks a smile. “I believe you, but I promise that it won’t happen again.”
He launches into a story about his run this morning, but it’s harder to force a cheery attitude. You know it’s good—the deteriorating boundaries had already caused enough confusion on its own—but you can’t help the disappointment sinking in your chest.
You haven’t quite shaken the feeling off, even as you’re sitting in the lobby and filling out paperwork in anticipation of your upcoming massage. It’s still there, even as you’re listening to the masseuse explain what to expect for your experience.
Jungwoo turns around when it’s time for you to remove your clothing; the two of you hadn’t talked about it beforehand, but you’re grateful nonetheless. You strip down to your underwear and lay on the table. You turn your head to the side and stare at the fake candles lining the perimeter of the room.
You’re not sure what you were expecting, but the massage is just like any solo one–you’re really just existing in the same soothing bubble together. You’ve opted for a lighter pressure experience, while Jungwoo’s masseuse kneads at the deep knots in his shoulders.
“Ugh,” he grunts during a particularly tight knot,
“Pfft,” you huff and turn your head to sneak a peek at his suffering.
Your eyes connect with his wide ones. Unlike a few days before in the mirror, when the two of you devolved into giggles, neither of you break. Your gaze skips over the curve of Jungwoo’s shoulder and down his bare back. It’s not new territory, considering he’s showing as much skin now as he was in his swim trunks, but it feels different. More vulnerable.
His eyes stay fixed firmly on your face. Then, his mouth flicks upwards in a gentle smile.
That’s your limit. You fake a grunt–you masseuse startles a bit after not feeling any tension in that muscle at all–and turn back to your other side. You close your eyes for the rest of the experience, your heartbeat racing at a rapid tempo.
-
Jungwoo leaves for the rehearsal dinner immediately after the massage, leaving the rest of your night open. You could reach out to Haechan, Mark, or even Yuta, considering that all of you are not in the wedding, but you settle on retreating back to your room instead. The massage has put you in a mindset of self-care, which leads you to order dinner via room service.
After finishing your meal, you eye the bottle of champagne that’s been, up to this point, abandoned in your room.
Self-care, right? You’ve earned it.
You crack it open and slide the door open to the balcony. The fresh air refreshes you instantly. You close the door behind you with your bottle and glass in hand.
While it’s too dark to see the ocean, you hear the waves crashing on the beach in the distance. You inhale deeply. Salty yet refreshing.
You swirl your glass absentmindedly as your mind processes the day’s events. Really, there’s one truth shining forward in your head that you struggle to fully acknowledge: you’re attracted to Jungwoo.
You’re not absolutely sure when it started. Sure, last night has been on your mind all day, but the feeling doesn’t feel completely new; it’s as if it’s been tucked away neatly in a back corner of your brain and just now clawed its way out. Previously unconnected moments align in your mind: his insistence on driving you to workout classes, his offer to be your wedding date, and even the ghost of his breath on your lips when you almost kissed a month ago. Last night’s kiss has merely blown everything up and forced you to face the aftermath.
Even so, you don’t know what being attracted to Jungwoo means. You’re not sure if you want to touch him, stare at the details of his face, or just be close to him at all times. You know him far too well to completely separate the innocence of your existing foundation from the budding physical attraction.
You give up trying to make sense of it. Instead, you lay back in your chair and gaze up at the full moon sitting in the sky.
You’re not sure how much time has passed when the sliding door opens behind you.
“Drinking our couple’s champagne without me?” Jungwoo asks with a smile in his voice.
You tilt your head back to look at him. “How was the rehearsal dinner?”
“We rehearsed, then we dined. Doyoung cried. The usual things you’d expect.” He shrugs before pausing. “It was boring without you, though.”
Your body responds, sending a light feeling of giddiness bouncing between your stomach and your ribcage. Your voice, thankfully, remains level. “Wanna join me out here?”
“I’d love to,” he says, sitting next to you. He places his own glass on the table and fills it for himself.
You raise an eyebrow. “What’s the point of asking if you already brought the glass outside before?”
“I would’ve celebrated inside by myself if you rejected me, but now I get to spend it with you,” Jungwoo says as he clinks his glass to yours. “To our last night out here.”
You repeat it back to him and take a long swig of your drink. “I can’t believe today was our last day together,” you say.
“When you say it like that, it sounds like I’m never going to see you again,” Jungwoo responds with a slight pout in his lips. “Seven years of friendship, and it takes Doyoung’s wedding to blow it up?”
Your stomach lurches. It does feel like everything you’ve known about this friendship has been turned upside down leading up to this wedding. In a way, it has been blown up. You can barely look at Jungwoo without your heart rate elevating against your will. You went into this wedding worried about what others would think of you, but now you can’t stop wondering what Jungwoo thinks.
You push all of these rising feelings back down. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
He gives you a sassy shrug that you ignore. Instead, his previous mention of seven years makes you think of the first day you met at Doyoung’s birthday party. Then, you remember Doyoung’s off-hand comment from the bars, as well as the clear implication it carried.
“Doyoung said something when we went out,” you think out loud. “I don’t know if he was just drunk, but now I’m curious…”
“Go for it.” Jungwoo leans forward. “You can ask me anything.”
That combined with the serious look in his eyes does little to quell the thundering of your nerves. You force the words before you can chicken out. “Did you like me when we first met?”
“Yeah,” he says without hesitating.
Your eyes are as big as saucers. “Yes?!”
A hand runs through his hair. “I saw you on his social media and asked to be introduced. The karaoke thing was not my idea, though,” he clarifies. “He was a total freak for doing that.”
You have so many questions that they all jam up in the intersection of your mind and mouth. Nothing comes out until you finally formulate the words. “Did you still like me after karaoke?”
“Yeah. I liked you for a while.”
Jungwoo’s nonchalance is completely throwing you for a loop. “How did I never notice?”
“Well, you were head over heels for Doyoung at the time,” he smirks and takes another sip of his drink, “and you’re pretty oblivious to these things.”
You’re not sure if the alcohol is making you misinterpret his tone, but there’s a teasing undercurrent to his words. It sounds like he’s talking about both the past and present – or maybe it’s wishful thinking on your part.
Your breathing quickens, and you pour yourself another glass to keep your hands busy. You hope your voice sounds casual as you ask, “When did it stop?”
Jungwoo grins, and the crinkle at the edges of his eyes are teasing yet kind. “Does knowing boost your ego?”
“Shut up,” you mutter. Heat creeps up your neck. “This is new for me, so I’m curious.”
“I’m kidding.” He nudges your foot with his. “It was clear you were into Doyoung and didn’t see me that way, so it gradually just faded. Plus, I genuinely like being your friend, as you’ve noticed.”
“Mhmm,” you say, but your mind is racing. This admission is billowing all of your feelings further into a whirlwind, and you no longer know what to do with them. You don’t even know where to start.
He rises suddenly and stands in front of you with an outstretched hand. “Here. I gotta sleep to prepare for tomorrow. Give me your glass if you’re done.”
The alcohol in your system makes you hesitate, your head tilting upwards to look at him above you without extending your glass to him at all. Your gaze rakes hungrily over his features, and your lips part. Right now, previous boundaries be damned, you want Jungwoo to kiss you.
For a split second, so fast you almost miss it, his eyes flit down to your lips. It would be so easy for him to lean down and close the distance between you; your eyelids half close at the mere thought.
Jungwoo pulls back just as fast, and his hand gently pries the glass out of your hand.
“I’m going to shower first,” he says while he’s already half inside the room. He closes the door behind himself, leaving you out in the temperate night air.
You stare up at the sky, wanting to slap yourself. Why did you have to develop feelings seven years too late?
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
DAY 4 - THE WEDDING
You walk into the venue with your head held high. The sun is warm and bright overhead, but a gentle breeze cuts through the heat. The location is beautiful; it overlooks the water while still being on steady ground.
You meet Haechan and Mark at the entrance, electing to sit a few rows from the front on the groom’s side. You sit between the two younger guys, and Yuta joins your group ten minutes later.
“Do you think I can make Jungwoo laugh from here during the ceremony?” Haechan asks with a mischievous grin.
“Don’t do that,” Mark frowns.
Haechan nudges your shoulder. “But do you think I could do it?”
“Don’t do it.” You snort, then add. “Because he will laugh, and then Doyoung will kill us all.”
Haechan’s head throws back in laughter. “This is why you two are great together! I can count on you to not blindly take his side.”
“Isn’t that more of a benefit for you rather than the two of them?” Mark raises an eyebrow.
Your mind drifts away as the two of them start bickering. You’re tapping a finger against your chair and wondering how the wedding party is faring. You haven’t seen Jungwoo since last night, as he left early this morning to meet the other groomsmen.
To some degree, the pair of you have always been a package deal at events. However, this time feels different. You’ve grown so accustomed to his consideration of you during this weekend–pulling out your chair, grabbing you a drink, leading you by the waist–that you feel his absence tenfold. It’s more than lacking a partner in crime; going through the motions alone feels like you’re perpetually off balance.
You perk up in your seat when the musicians shift the music into a soft processional song. Other guests rush to settle in their seats before the wedding party emerges in pairs.
You’re expecting Jaehyun and Kaia out first, as planned, but your blood runs cold as you see a familiar figure surface first.
Jungwoo wears a tailored suit that accentuates his tall silhouette. Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him in black suit attire in your life. His bangs are styled neatly to the side so that it’s relaxed enough to blend in with the rest of his long hair. Your heart pangs at the sight; he’s devastatingly handsome.
Kaia’s arm loops through his while gripping a pink bouquet in both hands. The two drift down the aisle together in rigid steps. You see both Haechan and Mark turn their heads to glance at you, but you avoid both of their gazes by keeping your eyes trained on Jungwoo and Kaia. Their discomfort is noticeable to all, but you have to admit that they look good together. Just like before.
You watch them during the entire procession down the aisle. When they finally separate to their respective sides, you release a slow breath.
Jaehyun is two pairs behind his intended starting place. You feel an irrational flash of irritation. Did something go wrong behind the scenes? Whose great idea was it to have exes walk down the aisle together? It couldn’t be Jungwoo’s idea.
“Something probably happened last minute,” Mark whispers to you. “Relax.”
You look down into your lap. Without realizing it, your hands had clenched into fists; the pressure of your nails leaves multiple crescent-shaped indents on the palm of your hand.
I need to get it together, you think. Regardless of how the two ended up walking down the aisle together, you don’t have any right to have any real feelings about it.
As if he can sense your tumultuous thoughts, Jungwoo scans the crowd until his eyes land on you.
“Oh!” Haechan sits up straight. “I’ll try now.”
Jungwoo’s gaze doesn’t waver from you, even as Haechan sways back and forth in front of you in an attempt to get his attention. Instead, the corners of his mouth pull upwards in a soft and slightly apologetic smile.
Its message is clear enough; you lean back in your seat and smile back, your previous agitation fading away.
“Lame,” Haechan scoffs. You roll your eyes.
The Maid of Honor makes her way down the aisle. She’s barely settled in when the wedding coordinator comes up to whisper in her ear. There’s a brief lapse in the music. Her dress bounces as she rushes to the back towards where the bride is supposed to exit.
The wedding coordinator then whispers into the conductor’s ear, and he indicates for the musicians to restart the song. A low murmur breaks out in the crowd.
“Um,” Mark mutters to your left. “Is this a prank?”
You glance at your friends in the front. Johnny and Taeyong have managed to stay calm with tight smiles on their faces. Jaehyun’s neutral expression leans towards a frown, and his eyebrows tilt downward in confusion. Jungwoo at the end is by far the worst, as he shifts his weight back and forth on each leg. He bites his lip and sweeps his eyes back and forth over the crowd.
“Maybe there was a wardrobe malfunction?” You offer.
“Either a wardrobe malfunction, or this is about to be the most awkward reception in the world,” Haechan says.
You elbow him in the ribs. “Don’t jinx it.”
“I think it’s too late for that. If it’s that.”
To his credit, Doyoung stands at the altar with his head held high. There’s not a trace of doubt in his eyes–although you think maybe there should be. Hell, you have enough doubt and fear for the both of you.
Then the back doors open, and there’s a collective sigh of relief as the music shifts to a slower arrangement. The flower girl emerges first, scattering pink petals across the aisle, which seems to further assuage the atmosphere. Luckily, Doyoung isn’t being left at the altar today.
When the officiant gives all attendees the cue to sit down, relief washes over you and causes your mind to drift.
Would you have been able to have as much faith as Doyoung? Or, to be more exact, is there a person alive who you could hold that much faith in?
You look at Jungwoo standing at the front with the groomsmen. He stands at attention with a sentimental smile as he watches his friend say his vows.
Your chest warms at the sight, and you can’t help your own smile from spreading across your face. Then, just as fast, a jolt pings through your body as you snap out of it.
It’s here, ignoring your friend’s vows because you’re too busy smiling to yourself like an idiot, that you finally fully succumb to the creeping awareness you’ve been avoiding this entire weekend—and maybe before.
It’s not that you’re just physically attracted to Jungwoo. You can see yourself with him. You can no longer detach yourself from the fake couple construed for this wedding—you want to be with him for real.
The realization makes your stomach tie in knots, and you’re not sure if you want to cheer or throw up.
The decision is made for you, as you see the couple exchange the rings, and the officiant speaks with a bright grin.
“By the power vested in me by the support of this community and strength of your love, I now pronounce you wed. You may kiss.”
Your cheer blends in with the others, but you’re only looking at one person.
Jungwoo finds you in the crowd, and a big smile floods his face as he whoops and cheers even louder.
—
You’re still Jungwoo-less in the hour after the ceremony as the wedding party pulls away to take more pictures. You make small talk with your friends until the DJ starts to announce the wedding party entrances.
This time, Jungwoo emerges with a different bridesmaid, and Jaehyun comes out with Kaia.
So it was a mistake, you think to yourself. You feel a little bit lighter at the confirmation.
Jungwoo beelines to his seat next to you, a wide smile on his face. You can’t help your own smile, and your table claps as he approaches you.
“Hi,” he says, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Hi,” you respond, hugging him back.
You all cheer as Doyoung and his bride come out last. Everything from then on flies by with incredible speed; Taeyong leads the first toast, and Johnny gives a speech during dinner that makes your eyes misty. There’s a special layer of sentimentality that feels amplified by the presence of all of your friends. Doyoung has always been the glue to hold you all together, and this union feels symbolic of a new chapter.
You sneak glances here and there to your date, and you can’t help but wonder what his new chapter will bring for him. You know you shouldn’t get your hopes up, but it’s starting to become impossible to picture your own future without him in it.
After the first dance concludes, the DJ changes the song into something more upbeat. When no one moves, he speaks into the microphone. “If any brave souls want to adventure out onto the dance floor, all are welcome.”
Jungwoo’s chair squeaks a bit as he stands. He extends a hand out to you. “Let’s go?”
Your eyes widen, but you grab his hand. “Seriously?”
“It’s fun music and easy to dance to, at least,” he says in a low murmur to your ear. “Wedding party duties.”
You stand and let him lead you to the dance floor. To their credit, your friends spare you the pain of being the only ones out and trickle onto the floor with you.
You usually hate being the center of attention like this, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not while your friends are making absolute fools of themselves in front of Doyoung’s family.
Taeyong is halfway through an attempt at the worm when the DJ speaks again. “Now for the folks who want to stay, you know what time it is…the bouquet toss!”
You begin to follow your friends all the way back to the table, but Haechan and Yuta interrupt you halfway.
“No you don’t,” they laugh and spin you around with a push toward the group. “Go get 'em, tiger.”
There’s now a sizable group of both women and men chattering while waiting for the bride. You stand towards the back of the group stiffly. You don’t want to be here, and you especially don’t like that your friends are recording you from a distance.
“Let’s count down for the bride here,” the DJ says, signaling a hand to the crowd.
3…2…1!
The pink bouquet flies in a perfect, tall arc above your heads. It’s clearly going to land a foot in front of you, and other attendees have adjusted themselves to be lined up right under that spot. You don’t move a muscle; you’re not willing to get bodyslammed for a handful of flowers.
Hands reach up for the arrangement; a long arm in front of you makes brief contact with the bottom of the bouquet, effectively making it bounce mid-air. Suddenly, the pink blossoms are launching towards your face, and you don’t have enough time to react before you get a mouthful of peonies. Your arms come up late to protect your face, and before you know it you have caught the bridal bouquet.
People are cheering and laughing–your friends are laughing louder than everyone else while yelling your name and clapping Jungwoo on the back.
And it’s all on video, you think. Great.
You stride back to your table, defeated, but not before Jungwoo jumps out of his chair.
“A commemorative photo,” he says while gesturing to you to raise the bouquet. You reluctantly pose for the photo before laying the bouquet on the table.
“Embarrassing,” you groan.
“Ah, come on,” he says as he gives the flowers a quick pat. “It’s essentially good luck, right?”
You stare at the pink flowers laying on the table. They feel more like a taunt rather than a symbol of marital happiness. You have no real prospects to the point of needing a fake boyfriend. You’re probably the farthest away from any potential marriage. After today, you won't even have a fake boyfriend.
The thought of going back to normal with Jungwoo is devastating in itself. Not only do you have to launch a fake breakup to all of your friends, but you will also have to pretend that nothing in this weekend affected you. If you want to keep him in your life, then you have to lock all of these burgeoning feelings away. The thought makes you sick.
When your friends rise to their feet to join the dancing again, you wave them off. “I’ll join you guys later–bathroom first.”
Once they’re fully enjoying themselves, you push out your chair and slowly slink around the perimeter. The bathrooms are on the corner closest to the water; you lean against the wall and look at the waves instead of going inside.
You don’t break your position, even as someone emerges from the bathroom door next to you.
“Everything alright?” Kaia asks.
“Oh!” You jump at her voice. “Sorry–hey. I’m doin alright.” There’s a brief silence, so you add. “You?”
“Just alright.” She leans against the space next to you. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” You’re caught off guard, but you have no reason to think ill of Kaia. Even with your earlier flash of jealousy, you know deep down that the circumstance was no fault of her own.
“Are you and Jungwoo really a thing?”
Your jaw drops. You’re completely taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”
Her smile is bittersweet. “After people found out that you two were dating, everyone was so surprised that they started betting on whether or not it’s real. There’s a whole group chat and everything.”
“I see.” Your throat dries. “With everyone?”
“Just the bridesmaids,” she clarifies, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if it spread. People suck like that.”
When you think back to others’ behavior, it does make sense. Outside of your friend group, you’d felt eyes on your back all weekend, and it had definitely felt more loaded than the average curiosity into a new relationship. Even so, you feel gutted. You’d undergone this whole ordeal just for people to have suspected you from day one?
“If it makes you feel better,” Kaia adds cautiously. “I voted that it was real.”
Your head snaps to look at her so quickly that it must blow your cover, but you don’t care. “You did?”
“It’s going to sound weird coming from me, but I haven’t seen him this happy in a while. Plus,” Kaia grins. “Having your ex flaunt his new relationship does help you avoid unwanted encounters.”
Add another one to the list of Doyoung’s Victims, you suppose.
Your voice comes out smaller. “I’m sorry you had to hear about it all weekend too.”
She shrugs. “It’s not that bad. Been long enough, and I genuinely hope you both are holding out and doing well. I just thought you should know.”
Kaia senses the turmoil in your silence and pushes herself off of the wall. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Thanks for hearing me out.”
“Thanks for telling me,” you reply earnestly.
She moves a few paces forward before turning over her shoulder one last time. “There’s a betting pool for the winners, so don’t let it be fake, ‘kay?”
With that, you’re left alone. It would be easy to turn the corner and head back toward the festivities, but you can’t face everyone. How can you? You’ve failed to fully convince people of your fake relationship and have actually fallen for him in the process. For god's sake, his ex had to reassure you outside of a bathroom.
You decide to walk toward the coast instead, the sounds of the partygoers drifting farther out of earshot. You plop down at the first spot that catches your eye.
The tide rolls up toward you, stopping just shy of your feet in the sand. Your shoes are kicked off next to you, and you hug your knees into your chest. The moon casts a soft glow on the surface of the water, and your spot is far enough away to see outlines of your friends partying into the night.
This is it; your friend is married, your other friends are celebrating without a care in the world, and you’ve successfully made it through the wedding festivities without any major collateral damage.
You should be celebrating with them, but you can’t bring yourself to. Staying in this state of sentimentality feels right for now. You want to remember this feeling when everything goes back to how it was.
There’s a crunching noise as someone shuffles in the sand behind you.
“There you are,” Jungwoo says, relief evident in his voice. “I was looking for you.”
“Sorry,” you mumble without taking your eyes off the water. “Felt like getting away.”
He holds out a familiar pink bouquet of flowers. “I saved it for you. In case you wanted it.”
You frown at the blossoms. “I don’t.”
You expect him to coax you back to the others, but instead he plops right next to you. He copies your position by folding his legs in toward his chest. “What made you choose this spot specifically?”
His face is alert and bright while waiting for your answer. You give in. “Something about sitting here makes me feel suspended in time. I don’t have to worry about tomorrow.”
Jungwoo’s head tilts. “What happens tomorrow?”
“Oh, you know, traveling home. Working.” You draw a small circle in the sand with your finger. You straighten your back and extend your right hand outward. “Since tomorrow takes us back to real life, now’s as good a time as ever. I’d also like to officially release you from your wedding date duties.”
He stares at your hand, no doubt confused by your change in tone, but he shakes it regardless. “I guess this really is the end of it, huh?”
“It is,” you say.
The two of you watch the ebb and flow of the tide together in silence. After a while, Jungwoo speaks. “Can I get a review of my performance?”
Your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“Well.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “I technically provided a service as your fake boyfriend and wedding date for this weekend. So, I’m requesting feedback.”
You roll your eyes, but a laugh escapes out of you. “Nerd.”
He’s unfazed, blinking his long lashes at you. “I’m waiting.”
“Fine,” you snort. “I can confidently say that you are the best fake boyfriend I could’ve had this weekend.”
You look at him, but he shrugs. “There’s a character minimum. You have to do better than that.”
“I think you saved my ass from awkward conversations too many times to count,” you continue. “I don’t think I’ve opened a single door by myself when you’re around.”
“Affirmative.”
“Everything is so easy with you, Woos,” your voice cracks, and you can feel him staring at you in a stunned silence, but you force yourself forward. “I never have to worry about anything when you’re around because I can just be myself.”
When you connect with Jungwoo’s startled, wide expression, you know that you’ve revealed too much. There’s something about the coast–being away from home, maybe–that easily spills the contents of your heart. Maybe, if you leave everything here, it will hurt less later.
“Your turn,” your eyes crinkle at the edges as you smile. “As I am not the only one that benefitted from this arrangement, I would like to formally request a review of my services as a fake date.”
Jungwoo breaks eye contact and scratches at the back of his neck. “It was perfect.”
“Our plan was perfect?” Admittedly, you don’t think you’ll pull off a more elaborate scheme for the rest of your life.
“No, I mean you.” Jungwoo’s brown eyes catch yours. His hand reaches over for yours, rubbing small circles on the top of the skin. “You’re perfect.”
It’s the tipping point for everything that’s built up throughout this weekend–every touch, every glance across the room, every flutter in your chest. Your freshly discovered feelings collide violently with the physical attraction pooling in your stomach.
“I want to kiss you.” The words come out as a whisper. “For real.”
“Me too.” He’s already leaned fully forward, lips brushing feather-light against yours. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since the first time.”
You connect, and his last words are enough to send a rush of adrenaline through your body. It had never just been you feeling this way.
Jungwoo tries to keep the kiss steady and slow, but you pull him closer. You need him closer. You run your hands through his hair and pull him closer by his neck. His own hands cup your face to deepen the kiss. You slowly sink down together until your back is flat against the sand and Jungwoo hovers over you.
You’re so lost in the other’s touch that you don’t hear the footsteps and drunken chatter until it’s too late.
“Oh–jeez, get a room!” You hear Haechan shriek first.
You break apart. You’re both still decent–just caught up in the moment–but your chest heaves up and down as you catch your breath.
“They already have a room,” Johnny eyes your sand-covered back. “But gross, guys. We looked for you guys to make sure you’re alive, not get a front row seat to sex on the beach–”
“We get it,” you complain. “Shut up.”
You both rise, you grumbling and Jungwoo muttering out apologies as you wipe the sand off of each other. The group moves back towards the venue, walking fast and leaving an intentional distance between you.
Jungwoo laces his fingers in yours and begins to move, but you yank him back. “Wait.”
“Yes?”
“This,” you point back and forth with your free hand. “I want this to be real. In its entirety.”
You’re expecting another soft glance, maybe another kiss. Instead, he flicks your forehead. “Duh.”
“Duh?!” You echo. "You said it faded away."
“It did. I didn't have secret feelings for you for five years, especially when I was dating other people,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “But ever since we started hanging out again...it crept back up on me. You meant something more to me, all over again. Do you really think I’m that good of an actor?”
“I…” You’re completely speechless, more so knowing that a few days ago, your answer would’ve been yes.
Jungwoo relishes in your silence with a grin on his face. “And what made you finally feel the same way, huh?”
“Well,” you think out loud, a similar grin spreading across your face as you hold back your laughter. “We’ve been meeting consistently for the first time since college. After you begged to be my fake boyfriend, it made me re-evaluate the easy chemistry that’s always existed between us…”
“Alright, quit it.” He rolls his eyes, pulling you along the beach. “I’ll get the real answer out of you someday.”
“It won’t take that long,” you laugh.
Jungwoo spins you by the arm back around so that you fall into his chest.
“This is your last chance to back out,” he says suddenly as he squeezes you in his arms. “Because if you don’t say something now, I’m never letting you go.”
“It’s a little late for that.” You wrap your arms around him and squeeze back. The waves crash in the distance, allowing you to relax your head against him. “I’m already yours.”
To everyone else, Doyoung’s wedding is the time that you and your boyfriend got caught rolling around in the sand; they never let you live it down. But unbeknownst to them and a secret between the two of you, it signifies something far more precious–the summer you fell in love.
tags/warnings: fluff, suggestive, just 127 being the best husband/dad figures, wholesome read
w.c: 4.5k
a.n: happy mother’s day to all the mothers out there! here’s a little sum in commemoration <3
taeyong.
“mom!” two distinct voices call out for you.
you stir in your sleep, eyes fluttering open. you turn to your side, finding your twins holding a bouquet of flowers each. as you lifted yourself off the bed, they handed you the flowers.
“happy mother’s day,” they each say.
“thank you!” you happily answered, calling their names to engulf them into a tight hug.
after the late night you had with your husband, it slipped your mind that today was mother’s day. after all this was the whole reason you all were away on a trip in the maldives.
“happy mother’s day!” your husband announces, walking in with a tray of food.
your eyes nearly popping out of your head as you admired the carefully arranged breakfast. “fo-for me?” you stuttered.
“of course, only for the best mother,” your son says excitedly.
“thank you,” you nearly choked up a bit, finding the gestures this morning too much for your poor heart.
“go get ready you two,” your husband informs the kids, they scurry out in no time.
he walks over to you, sitting besides you.
“thank you so much taeyong,” you tell your husband, your lips kissing his cheek.
“no need to thank me, today’s all about you,” he tells you, returning your kiss with one of his own. “now finish your breakfast and change, we’re going snorkeling,” he informs you, smiling widely.
“snorkeling!?”
and before you could interrogate him, he walks out. you finished up eating and changed into a snorkeling appropriate apparel before walking outside to find the kids and taeyong already ready.
“let’s go!” your son announces at your appearance.
your daughter follows him to the door. taeyong waits for you, walking alongside you as you two follow them.
“nervous?” he asks.
you shook your head, yeah it was your first time but you were more excited about this new experience instead.
it’d only been a 5 minute walk from where you guys were staying and luckily taeyong had reserved it prior. as he checked in your gaze drifted to the crystal clear ocean, the waves weren’t so bad. it was almost god’s way of saying you were doing this.
once taeyong finished, you all walked up to pick up your snorkeling masks and fins that they provided. with instructor walking alongside you guys, he explained the safety and precautions and once you were within a good distance from the ocean was when he allowed you to put on the gear.
you penguin walked towards the water, getting deeper and deeper within until your whole body submerged. you wished you could’ve opened your mouth in awe, but since you were underwater you could only resort to widen eyes.
the view from underneath is absolutely breathtaking, the vibrant fishes and ocean creatures that swam alongside you leaving you speechless. no this wasn’t your first time seeing them, but it was your first time being within such close proximity.
your attention then diverges to the family who is lost within the waters. the twins pointing at every fish that crosses their way and your husband engrossed with the bigger creatures.
you wished you could’ve swam across to him and puckered his lips, expressing just how thankful you were for this, for the entire trip.
he went all out for you on a day like this, a day to express just how much of an amazing mother you are. now you want to do the same, whether that be tonight or in a month from now on father’s day.
johnny.
“keep your eyes closed mommy,” your daughter’s voice says.
her little hands pulling yours while your husband guides you from behind.
“watch your step,” he announces from behind.
you take a step, then two, and three down before you're met with the grass from the backyard.
“open!” she tells you.
and as your eyes open up, you’re met with a careful put together at-home theater. a large bean bag centered in the middle while a white drape was hanged and a projector behind the bean bag. a table of snacks and popcorn adorned the front of the bean bag, it was unlike anything you’d ever received before.
your daughter runs closer to the bean bag, “happy mother’s day!” she tells you for the nth time today.
“you mentioned wanting to experience an in-home theater one time,” johnny says besides you, observing you closely. he could tell you were speechless beyond your thoughts.
your heart melted at his careful observations. if there’s one thing you loved most about your husband, it was his ability to remember even the smallest details about you.
“i love it, thank you,” you tell him as you go over to give him a kiss on his cheek.
and before he could even say anything back you’re off to join your daughter. the two of you try finding the lucky first movie, and after some help from johnny you’re all sat in the comfy bean bag that was adorned with blankets and pillows.
movie after movie played, until dawn turned into night. and by the nth movie, you glanced down when you stopped hearing your daughter ramble.
she laid across the bean bag, in a deep slumber. johnny notices too, “finally some time alone,” he whispers. you turn to him where he sat besides you.
“really?” you arced a brow at him.
a smile touching his lips, as he shrugs. “let’s call it a night after this movie finishes.”
“and what do you have in mind that we do, dear husband,” you questioned.
he pretends to think before suggesting, “another child?”
your eyes widen, you slap his arm. you turn around thinking your daughter might’ve heard, but her sleeping state still remains the same.
“so? what do you say?” johnny pestered you.
and as you go to face him again, your arms wrap around his neck. you bring your face closer, whispering to him “ok, i guess i’ll take you up on that.”
his lips sealed yours in a kiss, but before it could adventure any deeper he carried his sleeping daughter in his arms and laid her in her bed.
not long after returning to you to continue, where things then escalated into the bedroom.
yuta.
you sat waiting, waiting for your husband and daughter to come back. it’d been well over 5 minutes since yuta asked you to wait here for them while they went to grab something. it was mother’s day today and you all spent the day at home. being pregnant, you didn’t have the energy to go out and celebrate so you all settled to celebrate here.
the day’s celebration went above and beyond, you didn’t know if it was the pregnancy emotions or what but you felt extremely sentimental at every surprise your 4-year old daughter and husband presented to you.
as you relive the last couple of hours, the whisper of voices get you out of your trance. you can’t quite make out what they were whispering, but as they got closer you could make out some of the words.
“close your eyes mommy!” your little girl shouts.
you complied without a second thought, shuttering your eyes as you used your ears to guide you.
the steps got closer, until the creeks in the floorboards stopped. you could feel their presence in front of you, the soft breaths from your daughter as her little giggles filled your ears. you smiled at her small noises.
“you can open now mommy!” she exclaims.
slowly fluttering your eyes open, your eyes regain their consciousness. you look at both of them, faces covered by canvases.
the one your daughter holding a painting of the three of you, a tall male figure with dyed blonde hair (yuta), another much shorter female figure (you), and a little child in the middle that was holding both your hands. All three surrounded by a flowery field, and sun that almost took up the entire left corner.
as you finish soaking in your daughter’s adorable painting, your eyes travel to the one your husband was holding up. his painting more, mature. the painting was covered with your favorite flower, all different shades of color, to many it might’ve been simple yet to you it was beauty.
“they’re beautiful,” you finally spoke amidst the silence.
your daughter pops her head from the side, “really!” she gleams.
“yeah… thank you my butterfly,” you nearly cried, opening your arms so she could come to hug you.
she finds home in your arms, yuta witness to all of this with a warm smile.
“you, too,” you announced, “come here.”
you extended your arm so he could come. yuta wastes no time, the three of you bundling one another with warmth. you even feel a subtle kick from your belly, your baby wanting in too.
“though i have to say,” you said, departing your arms from them. “where’s your little brother?” you arched a brow at your daughter, eyeing her drawing.
“ah!” your daughter says, shocked. she facepalms her forehead with that small hand of hers.
yuta chuckles, and you erupt in laughter. your daughter eyeing you two like you two were crazy. and as the happy laughter stopped, your husband pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head.
“happy mother’s day to the best mother to my little butterflies.”
your eyes watered. today couldn’t get any better.
doyoung.
you glanced down at your phone for the nth time since you’ve stayed sat here in an empty theater.
where were they?
your daughter and husband nowhere in sight. they’d left a while ago for “snacks.” yet as no one filled the theater and they weren’t coming back, you guessed they were probably off somewhere else.
and as you were about to call him for the 5th time, the lights turned off. you were in a room with nothing but darkness now. your heart jumping at how scary the scenery was now.
then as you slowly rose from your seat the curtain from the stage opened, only a dim light revealing two figures. two figures you could recognize from miles away.
your daughter in a different dress, more princess-y and white. while your husband, doyoung, in a white tux with your favorite flower in his pocket.
and when you see the microphones coming out from behind them, it clicks.
your daughter began singing your favorite song. the background instrumental going nonexistent to you as you let her voice wow you away. her singing almost sounded identical to the original, she carried a strong stage presence, one that made you forget about the ever-evolving world around you. she carried the rest of the song smoothly, and when she finishes the instrumental changes to another one of your favorites. though this time doyoung takes over.
doyoung was a whole different category of his own, he was unlike any other, an angelic voice that pulled you away. and once he finishes his part, the beat changes again. this time an unfamiliar tune, and it wasn’t until both of them started singing that the lyrics too sounded unfamiliar.
“an unreleased song?” you mumbled, continuing being in awe at the father-daughter duet playing in front of you.
the lyrics speaking nothing but words of love, their undying love for you. it wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you realized you’d begun crying. your heart ached, oh how you loved your little family.
doyoung would never be a regret in your life, but a blessing. he opened your eyes beyond the world you knew, into a world that you lived full heartedly. it’s almost as if it were yesterday that you found out you were pregnant with his child, when you surprised him with the child, and you two welcomed your adorable daughter into this world.
a miracle child to you two, a symbol of the undying love you two held for one another. life as you know it felt like beyond blessed.
scurrying out of your thoughts, the beat stops.
“happy mother’s day mommy!” her little voice shouts into the microphone.
“i love you,” not only she exclaims, but doyoung does as well.
“i couldn’t ask for a better mother for my children,” doyoung announces loud and clear, finishing off the performance.
jaehyun.
“here, give these to mommy,” your husband, jaehyun, instructed your son.
your son takes the pretty pink roses from him, struggling to carry them with his little body. as he walks over to you he hands them to you, and says“happy mother’s day!” to you.
your heart melts, your son whose an identical copy of his father smiles widely, dimples popping out as you pull him into a tight hug and smother him with kisses.
“stop!” he repeats in a giggly tone.
jaehyun watches you two, with a dimpled smile of his own as he holds your newborn daughter in his arms. she’s been asleep practically since you all got here.
here, at this breathtaking park where your husband and son planned a cute picnic-y mother’s day date.
when you finally finish smothering your son with kisses, he looks up to catch your eyes. “let’s go to the lake now mommy!” he asks for the thousandth time since you all arrived.
you smiled, stroking his head, “alright.”
he holds your hand as you get up. “you coming?” you asked your husband who just admired you like you were the only person in this world.
“in a bit,” jaehyun responds, “enjoy yourselves first.”
“if you say so,” you shrugged, laughing as your son practically has you running to the lake.
and while you were lost in the glistening water and playing with your son, you failed to notice the eyes that were glued to you from behind.
jaehyun’s eyes as he admired his family, engraving this moment into his memory. he loved his family more than anything in this world, his little family that was continuously growing.
you were the best mother to his children, there was no one like you. you might’ve not been his first love, but you were going to be his last. he still doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you, he doesn’t-
a light slap against his chest pulls him out of his thoughts. he looks down, only to find his daughter, who’d just woken up, eyeing him with those big doe-eyes of hers.
“good morning,” he coos, even if the sun was starting to set.
her giggles melted him away, but he wasn’t complaining. his daughter had become his entire life, who knew she already held him around her little fingers at just a couple weeks old.
“let’s go catch up with mommy and your brother now that you’re awake,” he tells her, giving a peck on her chubby cheeks.
“you’re here!” you yell as you see your husband coming down the hill with a smile plastered on his face.
“the little princess finally woke up,” he informs you, dragging your attention to your daughter.
and when they’re mere centimeters away from you, your daughter happily starts blabbering when she sees your face. she tries extending her arms so you could hold her, in which you take.
“i think she’s wishing you a happy mother’s day too,” your husband chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist.
the three of you started walking towards where your son was occupied with a stick and the water. he was quote on quote fishing.
“quite the son you got there huh,” you giggled, eyes dragging to jaehyun.
his eyes catch yours, locking in. “he gets that imagination from you dear wife.”
you roll your eyes, and before you could argue back his lips fall onto yours. his tender lips, kissing your soft ones into a gentle and loving kiss. unspoken words conveying through his lips.
you feel the subtle grip of his hand around your waist tightening. and before he could even think about deepening the kiss, your son’s voice pulls you two out of your trances.
“mommy, daddy look!… wait, why are you red mommy?”
your heated cheeks growing increasingly red. jaehyun just starts laughing besides you, earning him a pinch on his side.
“i-it’s hot,” you stuttered, even though the cool evening breeze blew.
nonetheless your son doesn’t question that or you any further. and he’s back to showing you two the random things he finds as he circles the lake. as you all follow behind him, you feel your husband’s breath against your ear.
“don’t worry, we can continue at home,” he whispers, “when they’re both asleep of course.”
your face heats up again, and this time you slap his arm away. he chuckles at your adorable, feisty behavior.
but you don’t stop him as he hugs you from behind, lips pecking your exposed neck and his daughter’s forehead. she was surprisingly calm throughout the walk.
“happy mother’s day, to the best mother out there,” jaehyun says as his lips capture yours in a quick kiss.
jungwoo.
“almost there you two,” your husband's voice says from behind you.
“i swear if it’s what i think it is… i will-”
jungwoo’s chuckles stop you, rendering you silent. you go on for another minute before he stops you two. a small noise captures your attention, but you try shoving it aside thinking you’re just hallucinating.
“open,” he announces.
as your eyes regain their consciousness you’re met with a box with a ribbon.
weird.
but before you could question your husband, your daughter ran up to the box. her hands waste no time lifting the lid where squeals and giggles erupt from her. it isn’t until you see a small golden-furry four legged animal pop out.
your jaw drops to the floor. no he didn’t.
“oh yes i did,” jungwoo says, reading you expression clear as day.
you don’t even say anything back, just mindlessly looking at your daughter as she plays with the new member of the family. it wasn’t until after a while she cradles the dog in her hands, walking over to where you two were still standing.
“isn’t he adorable!?” she exclaims.
you ponder for a bit, until small barks from the dog melt away your brewing anger. “yeah, it’s something alright,” you say, walking closer to stroke it.
the small dog warms up to you quickly, licking on your wrist and hand. “see, knew you’d like it after all.”
you rolled your eyes at his words. “how could i not, just wished you waited a while longer.”
“but don’t you think our love is old enough to take care of it?” he questions.
and he’s right, your daughter was old enough for a dog. but.. there was another reason why.
“she might be,” you say, pausing before announcing, “but they aren’t.”
your hands going to your belly. it wasn’t big yet, but you were…
“you’re pregnant…” your husband says, speechless.
“yeah…”
“a puppy and a little sibling!” your daughter beyond happy.
jungwoo engulfs you into his arms, whispering small “thank you’s” before departing with watery eyes. “and here i thought i’d be the one surprising you on your special day.”
you chuckled, “happy mother’s day to me.”
mark.
“open it, open it!” your 5-year son urges you to unbox the small-rectangular shaped box.
your hands carefully open the box, and to your surprise you find a book. a colorfully crafted book created and written by no one else but your son.
“happy mommy day!” he yells excitedly, pecking your face with kisses.
must’ve been mark’s idea, you thought.
your husband had a knack for writing, it was one of his most favorite past times.
as you pick it up, you briefly scan the pages, finding drawings to the left-side and writing on the right.
“it’s beautiful! i love it!”
“really?!” your song jumps from excitement.
“yes! but i’ll have to read it later so your father won’t get jealous,” you say, whispering the last part out of mark’s earshot.
“what are you two whispering about now?” your husband says, taking a seat besides you.
you shrug, acting like nothing had transpired. while your son responds, “secrets!”
and before mark could probe his son any further, he runs away. your son’s attention drifting back to his playroom where he was mid-superhero roleplay.
it was only you and your husband in the living room, sitting in an awkward silence. which was unlike mark, he usually talked and laughed with you. unless he…
“i- i also prepared something for you,” he announces.
you hit the nail, unless he was nervous. this had happened way too many times before for you not to know by now.
“i love presents, especially if they’re from you,” you reassured him, sealing it off with a peck on his cheek.
you see as his hands come out from behind to reveal a manila colored envelope. he hands it over to you, in which you take. you open it in a careful and slow manner. you peaked inside where pages of paper resided inside. black words lining each page, yet the title was what finally made it clear what this stack was.
to the woman i love most.
you pull it out, your mother’s day letter from mark. writing from his beloved typewriter, almost as wide as a novel, it was his declaration of his undying love for you.
no matter how many he’s written you, he always finds a way to write something about you. about the countless memories he’s engraved of you. you weren’t just his wife, his beloved, or the mother of his children, but you were his biggest inspiration.
you tried reading the first couple pages before stopping because of the waterfall of tears erupting from your eyes. his words as sweet as candy, yet hit you right in the heart. his emotions were raw on each page.
“god, i love you,” you sobbed, leaning in to wrap your arms around his neck. you pulled him close, breathing him in and taking in all his warmth. you two fit together like puzzle pieces, just meant for one another.
“i love you more to infinity and beyond,” he replies.
you stifle out a laugh, as corny as that sounded, you knew he meant it. you knew he loved you beyond infinity.
“you’re the best mother and the best wife, you deserve more than some lousy letters.”
“no, don’t say that mark. you know how much i adore your letters, how i have a whole keep sake of them stored inside a box from god knows how long.”
“i’m glad you like them then,” he says, mutteringly.
“not like, love mark.”
he chuckles at your correction. and he admires you for a moment, taking in your beauty. as he leans down to capture your lips, your son's voice interrupts the sweet moment.
“i’m hungry!”
you two laugh at his sudden words, and leave it off with a peck on the lips before getting up. mark took up the cooking while you set up. and as the dark sky came up, you found yourself with mark continuing the moment before your son had interrupted.
haechan.
“are we expecting more people?” you questioned in surprise at the enormous amount of food at the table.
“no, just us,” haechan announces alongside you.
the kids had already claimed their seats, in full anticipation of the arrays of food lining the table.
“perhaps i went a bit overboard,” your husband says.
“a bit?” you bite back. you take a look back to the food, your favorite foods.
he shrugs, “well we did agree on a surprise dinner for you today.”
“i’m not complaining, it’s just i fear it might feed the whole neighborhood rather than the four of us.”
“it’s alright whatever we have as leftovers we can just store or give some to my parents,” haechan explained, diminishing the problem.
you decided to shrug it off, i mean there were alternatives to do with the leftovers. as you make your way to your seat, haechan is a step ahead of you to make sure to pull out the chair for you.
“thank you,” you tell him while he pushes your chair in.
he walks over to the seat to the left, while you stay in the center like some ruler. well today was all about you.
“no more waiting, you two are practically drooling. let’s dig in,” you announced.
all hell breaks loose with the kids as they rummage through every tray of food. their plates are full of different dishes. now its time to see if they’re even going to finish it all…
to your surprise they do, but at the cost of not digging in for seconds. they rubbed their bellies, filled to the brim with their father’s cooking.
you on the other hand, were just finishing up your first dish, before picking up a few more pasta. you always loved the way haechan made the pasta, it was a taste you couldn’t even achieve yet.
and as you and haechan finished up your ends of the meal, the children chatted and blabbed about various things to keep things entertaining.
you were so lost in their talk that you didn’t even notice when your husband had gotten up. he disappeared before reappearing with a heart-shaped cake.
you could tell it was no store-bought creation, but his creation. he’d just begun baking, and who knew he did it so he could gift you a cake for today. as e places the cake in front of you, you take a look at the writing inked in the middle.
to the greatest mother of all time.
your head turns to your children, wide smiles plastered all over their faces. “suprise!” they gleam.
“we wrote it and baked it!” your daughter exclaims.
“sort of baked it,” your son corrects her, earning him a scowl from her.
“it’s beautiful, thank you!” you say excitedly, heart melting by their surprise. you were a big desert fanatic, cakes an all-time classic.
“here, let me take a picture,” your husband says, whipping out his phone.
he takes one of you individually, then with the kids who yell out “happy mother’s day!”
and somehow he gets them to take one of you and him, posed in a way that garners “ew” from both of them. a small subtle kiss on the cheek.
as you all dig in, you three plaster haechan with compliments. for a beginner this was darn good cake. and so you all enjoyed each other’s presence for a while longer before it was time to clean up.
you were helping haechan clean up despite his efforts to stop you. then as you two cleaned up the dishes, you thank him again, leaning against him as you expressed both your love and gratitude.
“i’m the luckiest wife, mom, and women in the entire world. thank you love.”
“it’s my job to make you feel that way… because you deserve the universe,” he replies in his own raw and meaningful way, forgetting about the dishes for a moment for lock his lips with yours.
another successful and beautiful mother’s day for the books.
final a.n: i know mother's day was yesterday but i underestimated my skills in finding the ideal surprises for each 127 member... sorry for the tardiness but feel free to comment down below your fav <3
starring: dong sicheng, kim daeyoung, kim jungwoo, lee donghyuck
warning: all stories are written with a female reader in mind | specific warnings stated below
a/n: a coworker of mine recently got me into a movie watching craze (my letterboxd is michelle4terry btw if anyone cares..), but i’ve been watching a lot (at least between school and everything) of romcoms lately because i’m lowkey a sucker for them.. this is such a valentines-esque theme so i’ll probably do a part two when february rolls around but for now, here we are. if i do another part in february, lmk which romcom & idol you’d like to see together! i’ll try to upload once a week but since midterms are coming up, i’ll see how that goes 😵💫 thank you for clicking on ‘shitty romcoms’ and please do enjoy :)
🔖 taglist: open, leave a comment or send in an ask/message!
10 things i hate about you
after yn’s younger sister, ning yizhuo, starts college at ncit, her ex immediately takes note of her. yn, being the older sister she is, won’t let what happened to her also happen to yizhuo. so what happens when said ex pays his friend to distract yn from keeping tabs on her younger sister?
starring: lee donghyuck & female!reader
featuring: ning yizhuo of aespa, zhong chenle of nct
college au, strangers to lovers
warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, smoking
to all the boys i’ve loved before [coming jan. 16]
yn writes a letter to each boy she has ever loved as a way to say goodbye to them, so what happens when all 3 letters, including one addressed to her brother’s boyfriend, gets sent out?
starring: kim daeyoung & female!reader
featuring: all of nct wish
high school au, ex-friends to lovers
warnings: cursing, yushi & sion dating solely to fit the plot, incorrect ages (yushi & sion’s are flipped to better suit the respective characters)
flipped [coming jan. 30]
all yn has ever wanted was for dong sicheng to like her back and all dong sicheng ever wanted was for yn to leave him alone, so what happens when their perspectives flip?
starring: dong sicheng & female!reader
featuring: nakamoto yuta of nct, etc.
high school au, neighbors/frenemies to lovers
warnings: cursing
she’s the man [coming feb. 13]
ncit has officially gotten rid of the women’s basketball team which leaves yn wanting to join the men’s. so when her school says no, she goes undercover as her twin at his school to play on their men's team.
kim jungwoo x fem!reader
cw: 18+ mdni, suggestive/dialogue, kiss-kisses-and more kissing, playful banter, mentions of smoking, affectionate intimacy, emotional vulnerability
“you are just so..”
jungwoo trails off, eyes wandering over your face as you stand trapped between his arms, back against the kitchen counter, senses filled with your boyfriend and nothing else.
living with someone you love and waking up at seven in the morning was the new normal for you, now. it took a while to adjust to sharing the bed with jungwoo’s clingy sleeping habits, his loud showering (seriously, how could someone shower so loud), and little arguments about him leaving cigarette butts around but it never goes too far.
it was all his fault, really. just throwing a new key in your face like that, like you’re some sort of welcome doormat, and he gives you no choice but to say yes because he’s giving you the softest heart eyes.
but by the grin on his face as he moves a bit closer, you know he doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilty.
“say it,” you murmured, placing your hands on his waist, “i’m what?”
“that’s the thing,” he says back in an equally low, steady voice. “i don't know the word to describe you.” he trails his lips silently over your cheek.
“try.. indescribable?” your fingers grab onto the material of his jeans, trying to push him away.
“yes. indescribable.” his lips tickle your skin, forcing a laugh out of you.
“stop it.” you laugh, shoving him away but he persists. “jungwoo stop or i'm going to knee you.”
a small sigh leaves his mouth as he drops his head to your shoulder. “don’t,” he says quietly, shaking his head, “don’t say that.”
you know he doesn’t mean your threat. “say what?”
“my name.” he whined a bit.
“well it’s your name, isn’t it?” you giggled.
“don’t like it.” jungwoo huffed, “say something else. the other stuff you say.”
“i only use your pet name when i like you.”
his head shoots up, hurt in his eyes. “what have i done to make you upset with me at seven in the morning?”
“you tickled me.”
“and i’ll do it again if you don’t start being nice to me.” he push his body into yours, making you more squished against the counter.
pelvis’s now pressing together, jungwoo nuzzles his face in your neck, his nose causing more giggles to escape your mouth.
your eyes squeeze shut, trying to desperately push him away. “okay, okay. jungwoo! i’ll pee if you keep tickling me.”
“what was that?”
“jungie. my love. stop, please.”
at the sound of the sweet pet name, he pulls away. not enough to stop breathing in your air, but enough to place his lips on your cheek, gently kissing. his lips drag over to the bridge of your nose, noticing your eyes are still shut, but smiling at the way you bite your lip in anticipation when his kisses continue over your face. no inch is left untouched by his tenderness, caressing each bump, discoloration, sign of sleepiness with his mouth with the softest of pressure.
he notices your breath increase just a little bit when his kisses dip down to the corner of your mouth, and you immediately crane your neck to catch that kiss, but he shifts away, moving further down to your chin. disheartened, you open your eyes, but he avoids looking into them. jungwoo moves back up, but to your great sadness, he only pecks your cupid bow before gently maneuvering your head to the side to continue displaying his affection to the other side of your face. he chuckles softly when you huff, releasing your hands from his waist, and firmly gripped the chest of his shirt.
you tilt your head up when he's finished kissing your other cheek, bringing his mouth back down to your jaw, but instead of placing his lips firmly on yours, he uses his hand to push your head to the side to kiss your ear.
“just kiss me, already.” you sigh, wanting to stomp your foot impatiently. “my ears gotten enough attention.”
“so needy.” jungwoo comments, clearly smug. his mouth finally stops near yours, and the hand that holds your jaw cups your cheek, drawing you in, in one motion, stamping his lips to yours.
you released his shirt and dropped your hands back down to his waist, sliding around to shove them in his back pockets. if you hadn't been holding onto his ass so tightly, you would have been a mess of a puddle on the floor by his feet, but that's what it felt like anyway. everything he did reduced you to that state, so it's a wonder it didn't literally happen right now.
he kisses your bottom lip gently, taking his time. mornings consisted of things like this, now. another thing you found yourself easily adjusting to. before living with your boyfriend, it was sweet and chaste kisses. but now that he’s got you within his reach, every second and hour, he gets to take his time. his kisses became rougher and more passionate while maintaining that sweetness at the same time.
when he pulls away, it entices a whimper out of you, but jungwoo doesn't rush to ridicule you, delighted by the sound instead. there’s no rush. he kisses you once more before laying his lips on your forehead, sighing.
it doesn't seem like enough, your mind argues, so you lunge forward and embrace him tightly, joining your arms around his neck to ensure he doesn't leave.
“i love you. do you know that?” jungwoo mumbles into your hair.
you can’t help but laugh softly. “i do know that.”
“but do you know how much?”
your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips once again grazing the line of your jaw, trailing down your neck, to pulling your shirt off your shoulder and leaving a kiss there on your bare skin. the act alone should tell you how much, but it’s not what he’s looking for.
“jungie-”
“the day i asked you to move in, i was so afraid you’d say no because of how sudden it was.” he said quietly.
“i know. you tell me all the time.” a dry chuckle leaves your throat.
“i didn't think about how much i was asking you to give up. a bed to yourself, a quiet apartment, less cigarette smoke. yet, you never asked me to give up anything.” he babbled on. “but i’ll do it right now, baby. i will quit smoking for you and i’ll become mute.”
“and the bed?” you raised an eyebrow.
“i will sleep on the couch once a week but i will die if i never get to wake up next to you.” he says, dramatically.
you rolled your eyes, playfully. “i understand, jungwoo. you don’t have to give up any of those things. i know how much you love me.”
“yeah? how much is that, y/n/n?”
you hummed, dropping your arms from around his neck to put a small gap between the both of you. “like right now.. it seems enough to have a boner whenever you’re near me.” you grin.
“actually,” he corrects you, beaming, “it’s a love boner.”
“stop saying that. just say you want to screw me.”
he pouts. “you’re kind of ruining the moment.”
“don’t be embarrassed, jungie. it’s there. you can’t help it.”
jungwoo snorts, gathering you into his arms again. “embarrassed?! why would i be embarrassed about the way i show my love?”
“are you really admitting that you show your love through your boners?” you furrowed your eyebrows, voice muffled against his chest, holding him tightly.
“shhh,” he hushed you, delivering a swift and gentle kiss on the top of your head, “love boner.”
𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖠𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖦𝖤 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀. alex
2507𝗐𝖼 (best friend) jungwoo & (gn) reader the absolute most yearning of all time confessions fluff sharing a bed | skinship kissing
I THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU.
Staring back at Jungwoo, sprawled out on your comforter and peering at you with those soft, brown eyes, you almost say it. Words poised at the tip of your tongue, dripping off the edge and scraped upon the back of your teeth--mangled and muddied until they reform into something safer. Something you don't have to be brave to say and something that for all intents and purposes is inconsequential when compared to the original. But you take a second too long to say them, swallowing them back as they sizzle out to silence.
If you were braver, if you could muster up that courage, you'd tell him. He'd know what you--and seemingly everyone but him--knows and in those twenty seconds of an excruciatingly long, overhanging silence, you'd resist the urge to laugh it off as a joke. To playfully push his arm and send him a cheeky wink. Got you!
You'd wait for his response, fingers crossed beneath the pattern of your duvet and lips curved in an awkward smile. Focusing on the stuttered inhale of his own breathing rather than the thudding crescendo of your heart, pulsing against your eardrums so loudly that you're fifty percent positive it may just beat straight out. You'd meet him, eye to eye, and tell him. So that you couldn't take it back and it would be out in the open forever, no longer your (poorly kept) secret to hold.
But you're not brave. Not when he's lying just a few inches away, close enough that every readjustment of your form leads to one in his own. Bumping hands, brushing shoulders, knocking knees. You can't be brave, not when your noses nudge each other with each stifled laugh and you can feel his warm breath against your lips with every exhale. Close enough to kiss, to close the distance between you in nothing more than one passive movement of your head. So you can't be courageous, not really, because it's taking all of your courage to not jump up out of your bed, clutching your hands to your chest and running straight out of the room as if you saw a monster in your closet. A confession is out of the question, no matter how much it tries to slip out from your parted lips.
You're content with staring. Watching the steady, languid fall of his lashes as he blinks, fawning over his lower lid before lifting back up into their seemingly permanent half-lidded position. His gaze is softened, rounded about its edges in something almost akin to affection and you can't tell if it's from the company or the sleepiness (though every ounce of you begs that it's the company, prays). His lips pulled into an contented smile that you can't look at straight on for fear of losing all of your difficultly-maintained resolve then and there (even just seeing it from the blurry edges of your peripherals is enough to splinter your charade of nonchalance). Brown hair laying a loving hand to his forehead, sweeping over his brows and sticking to the bridge of his nose. Long and messy, spared from his scissors with nothing more than a word of (somewhat desperate) praise on your part. It suits him, the long hair. Though it's safe to say that you just want the satisfaction of running your hands through it.
The downside of being a coward, besides the obvious, is that in the silence of your bedroom--void of conversation or quiet laughter--the only thing you can focus on is him. The soft curve of his cheek, the slightest twitch of his smile, the bare bones of skinship that comes with the territory of sleeping in the same bed, but never seem to build up to anything more. You should say something. Partially to distract yourself from that look on his face that renders you lightheaded and partially to distract him from looking too closely at the lovelorn expression you're sure is written all over your face. You should say something to break the silence but any words that come spilling out of your mouth may unwillingly become something akin to a confession so you settle for a groan.
Rolling onto your back, hands firmly placed over your countenance and eyes shut, you find that this change in position does nothing to divert yourself from your previous preoccupation. Not when he's leaning over you, pillow dipping from the weight of his palm, anchored to the bed just an inch or two from the shell of your ear. This is worse, so much worse that you find yourself thinking that perhaps confessing would have been better. Then perhaps you wouldn't have to school yourself to not kiss him then and there when you eventually open your eyes and find him hovering above you. A poster boy of boyish innocence, like he didn't have a single clue what he was doing to your heart (which he should, after all, he can probably hear it).
"What?" his question is a quiet murmur, accompanied by an airy laugh and spoken lowly as if anything louder would scare you off. It wouldn't, in fact, louder would be preferable. That way, Jungwoo wouldn't have to lower himself closer, chest pressed against your shoulder just to make himself heard.
You swallow, audibly, fingers parting in a peace as you glance up at him. "You're just..."
"Just?" He raises a brow, patiently waiting your response, tongue peeking out from puffy lips as he offers you that easygoing smile of his. The same one you'd go into a million dollars debt to kiss of his face right now.
"Too..." your hands fall from your face as you gesture loosely in a manner that doesn't actually indicate anything at all, "You know...you,"
That draws out another laugh, head swaying down, forehead bumping against forehead (has he lost his mind?). "What does that even mean?"
One hand comes up to press against his collar, ready to push him back and return to the modicum of personal space you previously were accustomed too. But you don't, a beat of hesitation which only leads to your fingers curling around the soft cotton hem rather than any motion which you attempted to aspire to. "It's not a bad thing,"
"Is it a good thing then?"
"Yeah," You shrug, but he's not looking. Eyes fluttered shut as his face rests against your own, nose nudging your cheek and hair tickling the bone of your brow. It takes you a moment to find your words, to make sure that when you open your mouth, the thousand and one butterflies rattling against your ribs won't come flying out. "Well, I guess it's just...a bad thing for me,"
You can feel the crease of his brow, nose scrunching and bottom lip pushing out into the slightest hint of a pout as he pulls his face away. Watching you like a kicked puppy, head tilted onto his shoulder as he takes in every bit of your expression--trying to find the butt of the joke.
"Because you're...you know, you're just too..." you trail off with a slide of your eyes, blinking up at the ceiling with an all-too-sudden interest and syllables dropped to a whisper, "I just like you too much...sometimes,"
He blinks. Once, twice, then five times and your body cringes inwards, preparing for the inevitable jerk of his stature and the awkward laugh that will fall from his mouth. The way he'll rush to say something, anything, with the wild gesticulation of his hands. Putting what will feel like a mile of distance between you and your friendship becoming something you can't bear to think too long about, all because you couldn't hold your tongue. You're waiting and waiting, blinking right back at him with a dumb look on your face that perfectly reflects his own.
"Sometimes?"
Jungwoo's voice is a bit louder than yours, cracking in the middle of the word and wavering on the ending consonant. The sharp angle of his jaw is dimly illuminated by the warm hue of the streetlamp, painting a loving caress up to the full of his cheeks, dusted a pretty pink. The same color which spreads across to his ears and down his throat, prickling underneath his skin in a warmth that nearly has him overheating. Pupils blown wide and eyes unblinking, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth as he swallows in a concentrated effort to cure the sudden dryness of his mouth.
"Sometimes," you echo, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You've practically already done it--confessed, that is--and you did it rather cowardly. Leaving behind the last remaining shred of excess courage (that has seemingly drained from your body in the span of a second) which prompts you to follow up your reply with a sheepish sounding; "All the time,"
"In a best friend way...or?"
Stupid. Stupid question and Jungwoo wants to throttle himself the second he asks it. He has half a mind to fling himself backwards, waving off any reply you're about to make and sputter through a thousand and one different ways to confess (all of which he has practiced in the mirror and to Jaehyun who really isn't a very good stand-in for you) but you manage to beat him to it.
"That's a stupid question,"
"I know," he exhales, eyes squeezed shut and fingers digging into the plush of your pillow. His head is bowed, dark unkempt strands of brown falling in front of his eyes and hiding the embarrassed grimace tugging at his lips. "You just caught me off-guard,"
You chuckle, offering him a crooked smile that's caught somewhere between appearing anxious and hopeful (or perhaps a mix of both) with every twitch of your features. "Good off-guard or...?"
"Now who's asking stupid questions,"
His eyes are open now, blinking down at you as he takes a deep breath. In and out, a comfortable sort of silence interrupted only by the steady processions of your breathing and the whir of the overhead fan. Looking up at him, messy hair outlined in a halo of a fuzzy orange and lips parted as if he were about to say something, you can't feel it bubbling up again. I love you. Heavy in your mouth as you roll it over your tongue, unable to pass the lump in your throat to hide back in the channels of your heart. This time--unlike the first tonight and all the times before it--it's perched on the front of your teeth, unwilling to be shaped and transformed into something unrelated by any beat of hesitation or reluctance to say them.
It's no more than a whisper, the bare bones of something louder and excessively confident. Something more akin to the way you scream it off the rooftop of your apartment building or into running water of your shower. Here, in your bedroom, it's exceedingly affectionate, like all things have been thus far. As if anything louder would bring the world made up of only the two of you crashing down.
"I'm seriously in love with yo--"
You can't finish, not completely, not when he's leaning forward and pressing a single, gentle kiss to your mouth. You're not sure you can really call it a kiss, not a proper one anyway. It's tentative, the slightest brush of his lips against your own, and it sets every muscle in your body alight. Tensing up from head to toe as you freeze, eyes wide open and hand flexing on his collar. He's the same way, as if he were shocked by his own actions, gaping down at you like a fish out of water. Floundering and wrapped pathetically around the hook you cast. You tug on the line, catching him in another pathetically ardent kiss.
Jungwoo sighs against your mouth, the hand not (shakily) holding him upright traveling the short distance to palm your waist. Fingers curling into your ribs--a defined touch that's firm but not rough--sending goosebumps to ripple across your body. As if he were making sure that this was really happening and not one of his fantasies he's replayed in his head a million and one times over. It takes you both a moment to find the correct rhythm, giggling like teenagers through the clash of your teeth and the poor angle of your heads. But when you do find it--a steady, intimate pattern that makes your heart beat three times too fast--you find yourself thinking that this is the best kiss you've ever shared (though, you suppose that even if it was bad, it would still be the best. It's with Jungwoo, after all).
Your hand has relinquished its former spot on his collar, sliding up to the nape of his neck while the other threads through his fine hair. Forehead against forehead and nose nudging nose, every kiss nothing more than a languid press. Jungwoo kisses you like he loves you, like it's the only way he knows how and the only way he ever could. His brows are furrowed as he moans quietly, preening at the feeling of your loving touch and swallowing every whisper of a whimper which escapes your mouth.
"Jungwoo," you manage before you're cut off with another press of his lips, "Jung--" another, "--woo," and another. He's listening, you know he is, you can tell with the way he kisses you. Boyish grin pressed against your own exasperated smile, lavishing you in seemingly never-ending affection despite your every intention to speak. "Kim--" three more, "Jungwoo,"
He only hums in response, utterly self satisfied as he snags your bottom lip with his teeth earning a (rightfully) harsh tug on his hair (one that only serves to pull a whine from the back of his throat that plummets your stomach straight down to your toes). And when you do part--breathless and hearts hammering--you can't help but feel a little dizzy. Very dizzy as he chases your lips, eyes still closed as he gives your waist a squeeze. But you stop him, blocking his mouth with the palm of your hand (which doesn't manage to deter him, pressing a few chaste pecks there as well) and a soft laugh.
"Did you hear me earlier? I said--"
"I love you."
His words are muffled from behind your palm and you can feel his smile, the way his breath stutters a bit when he says it, the way he leans forward into your touch just to be that half a centimeter closer. Jungwoo says it like it's the most obvious sentiment in the world (and to him when it's about you, it is), like even if you were to never confess in the first place, he'd already know.
And when you drop your hand--shaping the words on your tongue, just to feel them--you don't have a chance to be brave again. To be honest and to say them in full, meeting him head on in his affections. You can't, not when he's already leaning back in and stealing another kiss. But you don't mind, not really.
🦌: real not clickbait true story about jungwoo and i, i've literally never lied in my entire life ever this happened and we're engaged.
