Your phone chimed across the house, however you were unable to open it because of your struggle to reach the top of the shelves for your charger.
Having been peacefully on the bed before noticing your phone being low on battery, you sighed and went on a search for your charger which you normally always put on your cabinet.
You knew it was your friend who came over yesterday who did this. You would never put your charger anywhere but your cabinet, let alone a top shelf, where you knew you couldn't reach.
Technically about to give up, you stormed off outside of the room, frustrated and about to use the last of the battery on your phone to yell in anger at your friend over call.
“Need help?”
Turning over, you saw Leedo standing right outside of the storage closet, the place where your charger had been found. You jumped back in surprise and held your heart to the small jump scare that you faced by your boyfriend, who was holding a grin on his face knowing what he had just done and clearly being proud of it.
“Leedo! What the heck are you doing here?”
“This is my house too, you know.”
Annoyed at yourself from forgetting such an obvious fact, you looked the other way in annoyance as he walked in front of you, looking up at your charger and smiling, patting your head in the process.
Before you knew it, you felt yourself being lifted from the ground, becoming taller then the shelf itself.
“What-” you frowned at your boyfriend, grabbed your charger and let him put you down.
“You’re really gonna take any opportunity to flex-”
“Yes” he interrupted, seeing the smirk creep onto his face. You rolled your eyes and started making your way out.
“You could've just grabbed it, you reached the charger.” You said as you made your way out the door, and even though you couldn't see him, you knew he had that stupid smile on his face which always made your stomach spin 1000 miles per hour.
✧ Oneus all members x gn!reader
✧ genre: fluff, reaction
✧ warnings: none
Seoho:
you can see something’s bothering him when you meet him that day
he tries his best not to show it and to pretend he’s alright (which he isn’t very good at dhhdhd)
and he notices that you’re about to call him out on it, so he begins to ramble about some random topic
so you just sit there, a little caught off guard, but you watch him awkwardly trying to distract you from his bad mood for a few minutes
until you decide it’s enough, and you lean in to give him a kiss
he’s rendered speechless and frozen up as he tries to process what just happened
so you simply kiss him again and as he puts his hand on your waist to pull you closer, kissing you back, he seems to accept that this is simply what you’re doing now
after a while, you part, and you take his hands into yours
“Now tell me what’s up with you.”
finally, he gathers the courage to tell you honestly about what’s bothering him
Leedo:
you were trying to prepare dinner for him to surprise him with after a long day of work
the emphasis here is on trying
because you somehow manage to completely fuck up the dish to the point it neither looks anything like what it’s supposed to, nor very edible
your boyfriend comes home to a mess of a kitchen and you in a panic, because there wasn’t enough time left to try again
instead of at least thanking you for your efforts, he immediately begins to scold you in that way where he does his best to keep his voice soft but you can unmistakably tell that he’s pissed off
and it’s not like you wouldn’t appreciate him telling you what you did wrong and what to watch out for the next time you try cooking this dish, but at that very moment you just really don’t want to hear it
so you kiss him to make him shut up
he’s obviously confused now and he immediately goes over to complaining about how you can’t just do that
however, when you keep kissing him he will give in and relax eventually, and you can convince him to simply order takeout food tonight
Keonhee:
you and your boyfriend had been planning a weekend trip for months
however, when the time of the trip finally comes, he has to realize that he got sick
it’s only a cold, but you decide that it would be smarter to postpone the trip in case his condition gets worse
now obviously he’s frustrated because of that
so he keeps apologizing to you for getting sick and for not being more careful etc etc
like, he feels so sorry that you start feeling sorry too djhdjdx
he rambles on and on about how he really wanted to enjoy this weekend with you, how he wanted to go get good food with you and have a lot of fun and so on
not being able to watch him in this pitiful state anymore, you simply press a kiss onto his lips
he shuts up immediately, and just kisses you back
you tell him that it’s okay and that he shouldn’t beat himself up over it in between kisses, even though you’re sure he already got your message without you having to spell it out for him
and then eventually you just make out until you’re both feeling better
the trip gets postponed by a few weeks, and when you can finally go on your well deserved holiday, he makes sure to make it unforgettable for you
Hwanwoong:
you’re both at his place, currently taking a break from playing a game together and so you’re just lounging on the couch while eating snacks
he’s still talking about the game you just played
that’s when a glance at your boyfriend’s lips moving as he speaks sparks the desire to kiss him
you just want to know what happens and maybe you shouldn’t have been so curious about it
because now that your kiss has interrupted his rambles, he’s turning it into a challenge
he quickly presses a short kiss on your mouth, grinning at you playfully when he pulls back
you’re surprised by his reaction, but you don’t dislike this game he’s starting, so you reach out for his collar and pull him into the next kiss
you give each other playful kisses back and forth, until you’re both giggling messes, foreheads pressed together
“What was that even just now?” you wonder out loud, and Hwanwoong gives you another dramatic smooch
“I dunno. You started it?”
you go back to gaming after that, but now you’re sitting closer beside each other, to the point your upper arms touch (and you can always softly elbow the other in the side to make playing the game properly more difficult for each other lol)
Xion:
you’re out on a date with him and you’ve settled down in a cute café nearby
you’ve known something’s up with him ever since you first saw him that day, but now that you’re all seated, he finally begins to talk
he’s a bit hesitant to complain, but what you get from his rambles is that his brother did something to annoy him, but says Dongju is the annoying one instead
your boyfriend is clearly upset, and usually you can somewhat reason with him, but today he just won’t calm down
even when you try to explain to him that the situation is probably resolved easily if they talk about it again, he wants to hear none of it
however, not wanting to spend the rest of the day with a sulky boyfriend, you figure you should try something else to cheer him up
and so, when he keeps ranting about how unfair he thinks this all is, you get an idea
you lean across the table and you press a feathery light kiss onto his lips, immediately shutting him up
he’s blushing and he’s clearly embarrassed now
struggling to find his words, he eventually just gives up on agonizing over the fight with his brother
instead, he now keeps urging you on to go home sooner during the entire date (you know he just wants more kisses from you in the comfort of his own home)
Summary: The man you have no business pining over makes an unexpected reappearance in your life, albeit in less-than-ideal condition.
Word Count: 4.6k
Tags: mafia au, blood/injuries (<- despite the tags the whole thing is still soft)
Author Notes: another submission for the Oneus Trope Bingo hosted by @oneusficevents ! This is for my “mafia au” square. I’ve never written anything like this before so I’m nervous to post, but I hope it’s enjoyable
Annoying, you think, that an entire beverage is going to remind you of a man you can’t have. Especially a beverage as widely versatile as tea.
You turn off the timer and go back into the kitchen, taking the teabag out of your mug. You’ve been branching out to new teas since the first evening you’d tried it in the safehouse, sampling them little by little. You now own a small village’s worth of tea boxes, after watching in horror as your best friend swiped her arm along the shelf of teas at the store and into your cart, insisting it was her treat. You’ve found you don’t care for straight green tea or matcha (green bean water, more like), but you like jasmine just fine, peppermint too. English Breakfast is okay, just not as malty, and chai is good if you add more cream than usual.
Tonight, though, you’re allowing yourself to Admit and Mope Over having feelings for a made man. Which, naturally, means your tea is his favorite, Irish Breakfast. You set the teabag in your spoon and wrap the string around it, wringing extra tea into the mug. You’ve gotten rather good at it with practice.
You turn to throw out the teabag when you hear a muted thump from somewhere in your apartment.
You stare, unmoving, at the teabag dangling in your hand over the garbage bin. It swings gently back and forth, and you try a deep breath. One, two, three four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.
By the end of the deep breath, no more noises have come. You drop the teabag in the bin and turn back to your mug, only partly aware of reaching for the sugar. Pal, chill out. Someone came home across the hall and dropped their groceries. The box of Christmas decorations finally teetered off the shelf in the closet. Kids down below jumped too high on their bed and whacked into the ceiling.
Your phone vibrates sharply against the counter, and you drop your spoon with a clatter. You crane your head aside to glance at the screen.
LEEDO: u can say no but do u mind if I stop by?
You snatch your phone clumsily and fumble to the app with live feeds of your security camera. A raven-haired man in office slacks and dress shirt is leaning heavily against your front door. As you watch, his knees buckle under him, and you hear another thump as he crumples against your doorframe.
“Shit,” you hiss. You drop your phone on the counter and hurry to the front door.
Geonhak catches himself heavily on the doorjamb as you ease the door open, a final defense against collapsing entirely.
“Hi,” he murmurs, sounding for all the world like he’s fine and not a man who can’t stay upright.
You drop to your knees, trying to figure out where it’s safe to touch him. His entire left side, from head to toe, looks to be spattered in blood.
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, guiding his right arm over your shoulders. You brace your hand against his back, heaving upward.
You manage to stay balanced, most of his weight on you, and stumble back inside. You’re careful to keep your hand at the center of his back, away from the side that’s drenched in red.
He sags back against the door as you shut it again, relieving you of crutch duty. Flipping on the front hall light, you try to get a better look at him. His side is littered with bloody hand- and fingerprints—probably from staunching the blood flow, you take a guess. There’s so much blood, it looks like so much. The blood on his face has trickled down from a matted spot in his hair.
“What can I do?” You ask, surprised at how calm you sound. “What do you need?”
A corner of his mouth quirks slightly. “Just towels.”
His voice is cottony, so un-Geonhak-like. A sliver of ice sinks into the pit of your stomach.
“Just….” You take a tentative step back from him to see if he’ll stay upright. He leans more heavily against your front door, and your hands hover there in front of him. “Just….don’t move.”
You fly into the kitchen, feet barely touching the ground, and yank open the drawer of tea towels. You grab the entire stack and flip on the sink, running a few under cool water. Your eyes catch on your mug on the counter, and after a second you grab it and bring it all with you.
Geonhak’s face is tilted towards the ceiling when you return, eyes closed. A thin line of blood is slowly trickling down the side of his neck. In the light of the entryway, positioned as he is, he looks like a hero straight out of a classical painting. Lordy. No man has any business looking this good bleeding out.
You set the mug gently on the hall table next to him and close the distance with the towels.
His head drops back down, eyes opening at your approach, and you offer him a wet towel. He murmurs his thanks, taking it and mopping his neck and face roughly while you unfold a dry one.
You rake your gaze over him carefully, heart pounding. His hair has grown out a bit since you saw him last. You note in the part of your mind that isn’t panicking that it suits him, although everything suits Geonhak. Gingerly, you scrape your fingertips along his hairline, combing his hair off his face and checking for more injuries. His jaw works and his throat bobs once, and you replace his thoroughly bloodied hand towel with another damp one.
“‘Woong’s in Chinatown tonight, won’t be able to get here for a half hour,” Geonhak says as he works, and you realize he’s apologizing. “He’ll take me to the safehouse and out of your h—”
“Like hell he will,” you say, swapping him for another fresh towel. “Finish mopping up and we’ll take my car.”
“Hwanwoong will come get me,” Geonhak mumbles, eyes closing as he prods at the spot on his head.
“And I said like hell,” you reply, your free hand going to the buttons on his shirt. “This needs to…move…so you can get to the spot on—oh, don’t look at me like that, you’re bleeding.”
“Interesting way to ask me to take my shirt off,” he murmurs with a shrug, smile as dangerous to your pulse as ever as his free hand starts unbuttoning.
Once he’s undone the first four, you shove another damp towel inside and grip at the injured place on his side firmly, making him hiss. Serve him right, flirting while bleeding out on my doorstep.
“Hold this there, tightly. Be right back,” you say, taking another bloody towel from him and scooping up the others.
You pause for a second, then gesture at the mug of tea. “For you.”
Within moments, you’ve thrown the bloodied towels in the drum of the washer to deal with later and grabbed several other things on the way back.
Geonhak’s finishing a long sip of Irish Breakfast when you return. Wordlessly, you hand him a few ibuprofen. A smile plays at his lips as he accepts them and downs them with tea.
“Off,” you say as he sets the mug down, waving vaguely at his blood-sodden shirt. “I’ve got something clean.”
“It’ll just get dirty, too,” he says, already undoing the final few buttons and shrugging it away.
Any other time you would admire him shirtless, but your focus now lasers in on the injury. After all the blood he was wearing, it’s surprisingly smaller than you feared. “I don’t care if it gets dirty, too. I have my first aid kit—”
“Just—” he winces when he presses against his side wound too hard, then sighs softly, “just…if you’ll drive me to a safehouse, I’ll get Keonhee to patch me up.”
Ah yes. Keonhee. A trained medical professional. Someone of actual use to him. “Let me get my shoes.”
You watch from the corner of your eye as he takes the oversized hoodie you offer him and finagles it on gingerly. You’ve grown so accustomed to Geonhak in office attire that anything else looks unfamiliar on him. You’re right, though; anything suits him. Your heart doesn’t seem to notice the oddness, twisting at the knowledge that the hoodie is yours.
Your staring doesn’t escape Geonhak’s notice.
“Don’t usually wear this kind of thing,” he says as you exit the apartment together. He leans into you for security as you lock your door.
“And why not?” You ask, heading for the stairs at a stilted pace.
Your face bumps into his neck as he stumbles, and he swears and apologizes under his breath. Despite the clear excitement he’s had tonight, you notice he still smells like the pine and eucalyptus soap you’d seen in the safehouse shower. You immediately try to ignore this.
He shakes his head as you both begin slowly down the stairwell. “Not taken seriously in street clothes. Look too young.”
You can feel him wincing with each descending step, and you slow your pace, keep the hand at his back soothing.
“Well, who wouldn’t take you seriously right now?” You ask as you reach the exit. You pause to heave your free shoulder against the door when it sticks. “Now? When you’re bleeding a concerning amount?”
“I’ve had worse,” Geonhak says mildly, misstepping and staggering against you as you exit into the night. You catch him, free hand landing against the front of his torso, and you mumble an apology as he winces and straightens again.
“Surprised you survived with these reflexes,” you mutter, hobbling with him through the parking lot in the warm summer night air.
You lay a towel along the back of the passenger seat before Geonhak sits; blood sounds horrible to get out of a car. He wordlessly plugs an address into your GPS once you start the car, and then you’re on the road.
The car is quiet as you follow the first few directions, save for the occasional GPS voice. Geonhak extracts his phone from his back pocket, wincing all the while. He taps away at the screen, likely notifying the safehouse and Keonhee, as you follow the directions onto a street that sounds vaguely familiar.
“Should I, um. Worry about being followed?” You ask, glancing at the passing headlights in your rear view mirror.
“Mm-mm,” Geonhak says, shaking his head slightly and pocketing the phone again. “Our guys got him.”
You refuse to consider what “got him” means in this context.
“I’m sure it’s pointless to ask, but what happened?”
Geonhak sighs, leaning back in his seat with a wince. The silence carries for a few minutes, and you begin to assume he won’t answer when he finally speaks.
“He didn’t like what happened at your shop this week.”
You stiffen as you stop for a red light. A blue-eyed smirk you’ve come to hate flickers to mind. The man who was the reason you’d met Geonhak in the first place; the man who was the reason you’d had to hide for a week in a safehouse meant for organized crime members. “Him?”
Geonhak leans his head back against the headrest, eyes shutting as he adjusts the towel against his head. He gives no indication to confirm or deny.
That isn’t allowed to be the end of it. “But nothing really even happened. He just…came in, to intimidate me again. And then he got spooked by your uncle and left.”
A corner of Geonhak’s mouth curls. “Technically, he was humiliated by a crime boss over muffins. To a lot of these guys, that’s something.”
Over muffins. The space in your chest for breathing begins to shrink. It was your fault. That man, the one who’d tried to convince you to let his boss run dirty money through your store, who kept showing up at your new storefront to intimidate you, had hurt Geonhak. He’d been so mortified by Geonhak’s uncle, who was there to defend you, that he’d taken it out on the man’s nephew for good measure. Not on you, who actually owned the store; him. Geonhak was hurt because of you.
“Breathe,” Geonhak says, voice firm.
You gasp in a breath and blow it out shakily, easing on the gas as the light turns green.
“Slower than that. There’s enough air,” Geonhak soothes.
You shake your head, each breath coming heavier and quicker. I did this to him.
He starts counting, and you take a deep breath and hold it like he taught you, blowing it out unsteadily. It does little to settle your jittery pulse, your whirling thoughts.
“Promise it’ll be over soon,” he says, glancing at the GPS. “In six minutes. Just drop me off at the front door and—”
“I—you’re kidding, I’m not just, just—leaving you somewhere,” you protest, grip tightening on the wheel. “You’re covered in…Geonhak, I did this to y—”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare.”
His voice is so suddenly sharp that your mouth snaps shut without another thought. His mouth is set in an even line, blue flame behind his eyes as he stares out at the road.
“You are good, and you are innocent, and you did not do this to me,” he says, voice dangerously even. “I won’t have you taking blame for that shithead. I won’t.”
You swallow, trying another slow breath in, out. You nod.
“Sorry,” you whisper.
He blinks, still watching the road, but the hardness in his eyes dissipates.
“Me too,” he admits. “Shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”
“No, it…I mean, I don’t mi…it’s—” You stammer, trying to figure out how to say you missed him without saying it outright.
Eventually you snap your mouth shut, face burning. You see him glance at you out of the corner of your eye, then lean further back into his seat.
“You, um.” A smile is playing on his lips. “The tea, earlier....I didn’t think you drank tea.”
Your face feels even hotter. You swallow. “…I do now.”
He doesn’t say anything the rest of the drive, but that smile stays in the corners of his mouth.
The address, an old brick bungalow, is different from the last safehouse—probably closer to where you live, you assume. The porch light is on, and you see movement in a window as you park along the curb.
“Stop, just—would you hang on a minute?” You huff as Geonhak opens his door, unbuckling.
You hurry out of your seat and around the front of your car as Geonhak tries to ease out by himself. He grunts in pain and stumbles over into you, and you sway as you attempt to keep balance for two people.
“I got it,” he says, trying to straighten, face twisting in pain.
“You really don’t,” you say firmly, locking your car and helping him up the walkway. “Cut the heroics.”
It’s Keonhee who opens the door as you reach the five little stairs up to the porch. You’re surprised to see him in pajamas and glasses.
“Up you get, come on,” he says, coming to Geonhak’s injured side and gingerly lifting his other arm over his shoulders. Keonhee glances over Geonhak’s shoulder and smiles at you, somewhat of a grimace. “I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but…”
Your smile is also half grimace, remembering the first time you met him, when he treated your black eye. “Agreed.”
Keonhee’s taller than you, so when he straightens, Geonhak’s arm stretches up higher, and he hisses.
“Son of a bitch, Keonhee, ow,” Geonhak grits through his teeth.
“Yeah, yeah, get inside, you big baby,” Keonhee mutters. “I know for a fact you’ve had worse knife wounds before.”
Ice drops into your stomach; a knife. That man had gotten close enough to hurt Geonhak with a knife.
With Keonhee in the lead, the three of you shuffle sideways up the porch stairs and through the front door. To the left of the entryway is a little kitchen. To the right you see a small sitting room, with a couch covered in a few sheets. The coffee table has a spread of little tools that remind you of emergency room procedurals on TV.
“In there, if you don’t mind,” Keonhee says. “I made coffee before I remembered you drink tea, Geonhak, so there’s coffee if you want it.”
“Water for them,” Geonhak manages, panting as you help ease him to lie down across the couch.
You stick your tongue out at him but don’t argue. Your mind and body are starting to catch up with the shock of an injured Geonhak, and you don’t want to make yourself even more jittery.
Keonhee disappears briefly into the kitchen, emerging with a glass and a mug. You take the water gratefully, hiding yourself in the glass as you swallow back half of it.
When you lower it again, Keonhee is seated beside the couch and inspecting Geonhak’s head wound. He swabs at it with alcohol wipes and clucks his tongue.
“Stupid, but not awful,” Keonhee says, fighting a smile as Geonhak swears violently under his breath at a firmer prod. “Probably won’t even need stitches. Just bled a lot.”
“You’ll bleed a lot if you don’t cut that out,” Geonhak grumbles. Keonhee snorts and scoots back, lifting the hoodie to get a better look at his side.
“Need a few stitches here, though,” Keonhee says, pausing when Geonhak jolts from the rubbing alcohol sting. “Ribs hurt at all?”
“Not as much as yours will if y—shit,” Geonhak hisses at another pass of the alcohol wipe.
“Look at you, king of the streets, brought to your knees by antiseptic,” Keonhee says, grinning.
Geonhak glares at him, breathing heavily. “I say king of the streets one time, back in high school, and you won’t let it die.”
“Nope.” Keonhee pops the “p” and reaches for a few things on the coffee table.
You take a deep breath, setting down your glass with shaky hands. “Uhm, if I needed the bathroom, where…?”
Keonhee’s eyes are understanding. “Down that way, on the right. I’ll be quick. He’s seen worse.”
You hear Geonhak’s “fucking hell” from the living room before you close the bathroom door behind you.
You lean heavily on your hands against the sink and rest your forehead against the mirror, allowing yourself a moment in the whirlwind of thoughts. Knife wound. They got him. He’s been hurt worse before.
He came to me. When he got hurt, he came to find me. I got to see him again.
That’s what feels the most shocking, that he’s here, you’re here, back in his world, when you didn’t think you’d ever see him again. You know he’d told you it was for your own good that he keep a distance, and you didn’t think his reasons were bad. It still hurt, though, to make such a connection with him and then watch him disappear from your life like he’d never been there.
Well, now you’ve seen him again—covered in blood, admittedly, but nonetheless. He hadn’t been a figment of your imagination, after all. He’ll be on the mend soon, and then…
You gulp. That’s what’s scariest. How fleeting being here, being back in his circle, feels. You wish for selfish things for a brief moment—for a few more nights of Irish Breakfast, a few more conversations, even one more exchange of banter, for wounds that need time to heal, time you can spend with him. The thought that he’ll slip away again forever after this is…
A soft knock on the door startles you a little too much. “Hm?”
“He’s all patched up now, all fine,” Keonhee says. “Just needs a couple days of low activity and he’ll be back to normal.”
You sniff, leaning back off of your hands. “Good. I…good.”
There’s a pause. “I’d like to take a look at you when you come out. Customary check.”
“Oh, uh, sure, yeah, coming out.”
You reach up to itch a spot on your cheek and blink when your hand comes back wet. You wipe under both eyes, hands coming away damp. When you glance at your reflection, you grimace at how blotchy you look. There’s no way to hide it, so you sigh and brace for the inevitable, opening the door.
Keonhee studies you for a moment, then says, “let’s see if I’ve got tea somewhere after all, hm?”
It feels a bit wrong to dig through his cupboards and pantry like this, but Keonhee encourages it, clapping your shoulder when you find an old box of orange pekoe.
“You’ll be staying tonight, of course,” he says after he cleans out the coffee pot and begins brewing plain hot water. “At least until the shock wears off.”
You purse your lips as you retrieve two mugs. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”
Keonhee scoffs, putting a tea bag in each one. “Please. You’re more tolerable than he is, swearing at me over a little scratch.”
“Is it really that minor?” You ask, watching yourself run a thumb over the lip of a mug.
“He’s just fine,” Keonhee says, firm and reassuring. “He’ll be back to intimidating us all at full capacity far too quickly.”
The nobler side of you relaxes at this. Your less noble side wishes for a few more days of bed rest. You try to ignore the less noble side.
“Perhaps I should worry more about you,” Keonhee says, studying you. “You’ve been well?”
You laugh once. “Oh, yes. I’m just fine. I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of a single made man until this week, much less tangled with any of them.”
You wince inwardly at how bitter you sound. Ridiculous.
Keonhee hums, taking the now-filled pot of hot water and pouring it into the mugs. “I see an awful lot of made men, but that doesn’t necessarily add or detract from any tangles. Surprising, how much you can see of them without being involved.”
You don’t know what to say to that. You realize with a pang that you’re almost jealous of him, of his ability to be involved but not involved.
He frowns at one of the mugs as it steeps. “I should go check how he takes it, I can never remember—”
“That’s alright, I’ve got it,” you say, waving that away and preparing both mugs.
Keonhee’s quiet as you labor over the tea. When he speaks, you can hear a slight smile.
“Good. I’ll go make up the air mattress, then, if you’ve got this under control.”
You make your way back into the sitting room slowly, trying not to spill either mug. Geonhak has every pillow propped up behind his back, an arm slung over his eyes. You frown when you see one of his ankles in a brace.
“You didn’t tell me your ankle was hurt.”
A corner of Geonhak’s mouth twitches. “Only twisted a little. It’s why I couldn’t keep better balance.”
He lowers his arm from his eyes and looks up at you. You lift his mug, nodding at it, and he inches his way further upright, grimacing.
“Let’s see how badly Keonhee did on this cup,” Geonhak says as he takes the mug.
“He didn’t make it. I did,” you say, sitting gingerly by his knees and blowing on your mug. “Two sugars, no cream. Strong. Brought the spoon when you want the bag out.”
You set your mug on the coffee table, now cleared of surgical instruments, and lift your teabag into said spoon, twisting the string round and draining the excess. You feel Geonhak’s silent, studying gaze and try not to let it fluster you as you find a wastebasket at the end of the couch to toss the teabag.
You take a sip of the tea, then blink. “You know, I always thought orange pekoe would be…well, orange flavored. But this is just another black tea.” Hmm. Suppose it can’t hurt to have around for guests, so the nicer teas can be for you.
“Damn it,” Geonhak sighs softly.
You glance over at him as you blow on your tea, raising an eyebrow. He’s cradling his tea placidly against his stomach, eyes shut.
“You make it so difficult.”
You blink. “So difficult to what?”
He opens his eyes and meets your gaze. “To stay away from you.”
Your lungs feel suddenly empty. Oh. Some warm and electric feeling zings up your spine.
You look down into your mug, pulse skipping. “…I see. My hopelessness when it comes to tea, back at it again.”
When he speaks, you can hear his smile. “Might play a part, maybe.”
You take another swig of tea, bracing yourself. “I wish…I wish you wouldn’t stay away, but I, you know, I get it. Promise.”
You shrug a shoulder, grimacing.
He purses his lips, then sets the mug down. “Mind getting the bag for me?”
You set your tea down and grab the spoon, finagling with the tea bag in his cup.
His fingers brush against your knee, backs of his knuckles rubbing gently back and forth. You swallow, throat surprisingly dry for how much tea you’ve drank, tossing his teabag and setting the spoon aside again.
“Don’t like when you’re in danger,” he murmurs.
You nod, picking your mug up again with shakier hands than you’d like.
“Don’t want to be the reason you’re in danger,” he says quietly.
You nod again, tilting your head thoughtfully and taking a sip of tea. “Keonhee’s got a lot of your guys in his life and he’s not in danger.”
“He’s under my uncle’s protection,” Geonhak says, not unkindly.
You shrug a shoulder. “Well…think I might be now, too. He intimidated that man into leaving and then left a hundred dollar tip for his muffins.”
Geonhak laughs once, and his hand opens on your knee, resting warm and firm.
“Touché.”
You take another sip of tea, gathering courage, then drop your hand to your knee and curl your fingers around his hand.
His gaze makes you feel shy, but you don’t look away, drinking in the way it feels to be looked at like this.
He shakes his head at himself, smiling wryly. “Knew exactly what I was doing tonight. Might’ve been easier to go to a few different places, but I went out of my way.”
His fingers squeeze yours.
“I just missed you,” he whispers.
It’s a good thing you hear Keonhee clattering back down the hall. You’re not sure you have the power of speech anymore.
Keonhee forces Geonhak to give up two pillows (“you have all the other pillows in my house, fiend, surrender one to me and to the guest”) and pushes aside the coffee table to make up your bed. It’s a good thing you were already in pajamas, you think as you sit at the edge of the air mattress. No need to sleep in clothes, unlike Geonhak, despite your hoodie.
When the lights go out and Keonhee goes back to bed, you spend a while staring up at the ceiling. You realize, too late, that there was caffeine in both of those teas. Late night caffeine intake versus shock exhaustion, fight.
“There’s, um.”
You glance over at Geonhak on the couch. He’s looking up at the ceiling, too. “There’s this place on the other side of town, a bar? But it’s got cats, like a cat cafe. Hwanwoong tells me you’d really like it.”
You purse your lips, fighting the massive grin threatening to take over your whole face. “I’ve heard of it. It’s got some cat pun name, yeah?”
“Yeah, I can’t think of it, either,” he says, laughing softly.
His hand reaches out and finds yours in the darkness. “Wanna try it with me, maybe? Like, in a week or two, obviously, or Keonhee will put my head on a stake.”
You laugh quietly, squeezing his hand. “I’d like that.”
His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, gentle. “Okay.”
When you finally fall asleep, your hand is still in his.
🌹 Summary: You come home from a long and exhausting day of work to spend time with your family: your 6 year old daughter and your husband, Kim Geonhak.
🌹 Word Count: 2,115 words
🌹 Pairing: Reader x Kim Geonhak (Leedo) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader, Parent!Reader; Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Kim Hwayoung (OC) {Age: 6};
🌹 A/N: 'Neny', the term used in the fic to refer to the Reader, is mom in Malagasy, but it's gender neutral here ok? I couldn’t find a good Gender Neutral title, but if I find something better I might change it. Also, in this, Geonhak is still an idol and a member of ONEUS, but they're a bit older? Idk, he's still Leedo of ONEUS but also a dad. Who needs timelines anyways? Might make this into a series, who knows?
You sigh, your back sore from a long, tiring day of work. You've been standing all day for work, talking to people you wish you didn't have to talk to. You wish you were home, lying in bed with your family, but you still have a few minutes until your bus reaches the stop near home.
When the bus finally comes to a stop, you dismount and make your way into your apartment. You unlock the door, and hear laughter inside. You smile to yourself and open the door, and are met with the beautiful sight of your husband, Geonhak, dressed in a nice, casual outfit--jeans, a T-shirt and glasses--with your 6 year old daughter laughing, sitting on his shoulders, holding his hands tight. He must have changed after work, before he went to pick up Hwayoung.
You smile brightly. Work is hard as heck, and your day was exhausting as hell. Coming home to your husband and your daughter is always the highlight of your day, and today is no different.
"Hello, my love," Geonhak says, grinning widely. "How was work?"
"Hi honey," you say, walking over to kiss him on the cheek. "It was tiring, as usual." You then stand on your tip-toes while Geonhak bends down a bit so you can kiss your daughter on the cheek. "Hi Hwayoung. How was school?"
"Hi Neny! It was gooooood," Hwayoung says. "We did reading and drawing! I wanna show you my drawing that I drawed! And then when Dada picked me up from achool, he said when you got home, we could all go out for ice cream together and to the park!"
"Oh really?" You can't stop yourself from smiling so widely that your cheeks hurt, and honestly you don't want to not smile. You haven't smiled a lot today, so this is a nice breath of fresh air.
"Alright, Hwayoung, down time," Geonhak says, looking up and reaching up to put his hands on her in preparation to lift her off of his shoulders. "Don't you wanna show Neny your drawing?"
"Yeah, but don't wanna get down. Pleeease?" Hwayoung whines, pouting down at him, and you can see Geonhak give up, cracking a smile. He's never a match for you or Hwayoung's pouts. Or yours.
"Alright, rosebud, you can stay up there. Let's have you show Neny what you made, okay?"
"Okaaaaaay!!!” Hwayoung sings. “Neny, it’s in my room! Let’s go!!!" She points forward, and Geonhak starts walking quickly, while you follow. You can see, from his smile and the joy in your husband’s eyes, just how happy he is. As you follow him to Hwayoung's bedroom, which is right next to yours, Geonhak ducks down so Hwayoung doesn't hit her head at the top of the doorframe. She giggles as he does, and looks back at you to make sure you're following them into her room.
"Look, Neny!" Hwayoung points at her tiny table from her seat on Geonhak's shoulders. You look down at the drawing, a cute scribble of a happy family of three--you, Geonhak, and Hwayoung herself, her dark hair tied up in two pigtails.
"Hwayoung, my rosebud, this is so good!" you say. "Amazing job, rosebud, well done!" You raise your hand up and ruffle her hair, smiling first at her, then Geonhak.
"Thank you, Neny!!!" She giggles, beaming. "I knew you'd like it! Dada said you would."
"Well Dada was right! I love it, rosebud!" You stand on your tip-toes and Geonhak bends his knees so that you can then press a kiss to Hwayoung's temple. "Alright, let's go get ice cream and go to the park, okay?"
"Yayyy!!!"
You raise your eyebrow at Geonhak, and see that he's grinning so widely, eyes up toward Hwayoung. Your little rosebud.
"Strawberry ice cream, please!" Hwayoung says to the worker of the ice cream parlor. "One scoop please!" she says, holding up one finger. They nod and scoop the ice cream into a cone, and hand it to Hwayoung as Geonhak pays.
"Ready to eat your ice cream, Hwayoung?" you ask. She nods excitedly, licking her lips in anticipation as she stares at the ice cream cone in her hand.
"Alright, done," Geonhak says, a cone of rainbow sherbet ice cream in his hand. "Ready to get walking to the park?"
"Yeah!!!"
"Hwayoung, ice cream's dripping," you say, pointing at the cone. She quickly licks around the top of the cone, catching the ice cream drips. "There you go, rosebud. Can I have a lick?"
"Mmhmm!" Hwayoung raises up her ice cream for you to lick a bit of her ice cream from her cone. "D'you like it?"
"Mmm, yummy. Good choice, rosebud," you hum, reaching up and ruffling her hair.
"Thank you, Neny!"
"Do you want some of mine?" Geonhak asks you, offering you his ice cream cone.
"No thank you, baby." You shake your head and he scrunches his eyebrows and pouts at you.
Hwayoung tugs at Geonhak's hand, and he looks down at her. "Dada, can I ride while we walk?" she asks.
"Alright, rosebud. Y/N, my love, can you hold this for me?" Geonhak asks, and you take his ice cream from his hand.
"Yayyyyyy!!!!!!" Hwayoung hands you her ice cream as well, and Geonhak squats down and lets Hwayoung clamber up his back and onto her seat on his shoulders. You then hand her her ice cream, and she starts licking it wwith her free hand, using the other to stay up on her dad's shoulders.
"Don't drip any of the ice cream onto me, okay Hwayoung?" Geonhak says, laughing. "My love, can I have my ice cream back?"
You quickly lick some of his rainbow sherbet ice cream and his eyes widen.
"Ya! Earlier when I offered, you said no!" he scolds, and you giggle. You and him tease and mess with each other like this all the time
"I changed my mind," you hum, winking and grinning as you hand him his ice cream back. Before he can say anything, you plant a kiss on his cheek. "Love you, baby."
He can't hide his smile, or the way his cheeks get a bit rosy from the kiss.
"Dada, say I love you back!" Hwayoung says, kicking her feet a little bit on his shoulders.
"I love you, my love," Geonhak says to you, his smile soft. "I love you too, Hwayoung."
"Love you too, Dada!!!"
You smile, so content and happy at the sight. Your daughter perched up on her dad, your husband, Geonhak's shoulders. The two of them grinning happily, both with an ice cream cone in hand. Geonhak scrunches his nose and raises his free hand to adjust his glasses. You're so happy with your little family.
The three of you head to the park, Hwayoung giggling from her spot. She finished her ice cream cone within ten minutes. Geonhak, however, only managed to get halfway through his ice cream cone before letting you finish it off.
"You finished your ice cream?" Geonhak asks Hwayoung, holding her legs to keep her steady on his shoulders.
"Yeah," Hwayoung says. "Sticky fingers!"
"Alright, down time for a second," Geonhak says, reaching up to grab her. You see Hwayoung is about to pout when he continues. "Don't worry, rosebud, you'll get to be tall again. I just need to wash your face and hands."
"Mmkayyy!!!"
Geonhak squats down so that Hwayoung can hop off of his back. He brings her off to the side of the sidewalk and pulls out a pack of wipes to clean off the ice cream at the corners of her mouth.
"Sti-cky hands," she sings to herself, and Geonhak laughs gently. "I got sti-cky hands!"
"You do, rosebud," Geonhak says, wiping at her cheeks. "Done with your cute cheeks, Hwayoung. Now I'm gonna un-sticky your fingers. Hand." Geonhak holds out his hand, and Hwayoung gives him her hands to wipe them clean.
"Thank you Dada," she says loudly, grinning widely as Geonhak throws away the wipes in a nearby bin.
"Of course, rosebud. Up?" he asks, bending down.
"Up!" Hwayoung climbs up Geonhak's back and back onto her spot on Geonhak's shoulders. "I'm so tall!" Hwayoung yells, throwing her arms up, and you smile up at her. Geonhak holds her feet to keep her steady.
"Yes, my little rosebud, you are," Geonhak says fondly, and you can feel your heart melt. He looks so content and happy and satisfied.
When you arrive home, you start winding down for the day. Today is your turn to cook dinner, and though Geonhak offered to cook instead--"You had a tiring day at work today, my Love, I don't mind," he had said--you declined and insisted on cooking.
As you cook the rice, you're able to listen to and watch Geonhak as he helps Hwayoung with reading a book to practice reading. He has her sitting on her lap, and she tries to read aloud, and he gently corrects her pronunciation of the hard words.
You smile to yourself. They're so cute together. Geonhak has always loved to coddle Hwayoung since she was first born. He loves her--and you, the whole little family--with his whole heart, and you can see it in every smile he gives you or her.
Geonhak always wanted to have a kid or two, and when Hwayoung was first born, when he first laid eyes on her, he cried even more than you did. He was so happy to first meet his daughter. As Hwayoung grew older throughout the years, Geonhak only grew happier.
After you finish making dinner, you call Hwayoung and Geonhak over to eat. Hwayoung excitedly jumps out of Geonhak's arms and runs over to help you set the table, while Geonhak comes over to stand next to you. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.
"What are you thinking about, my love?"
You sigh. "How much I love you and Hwayoung. Our happy little family," you murmur.
He grins and wraps his arm around you. "I love our happy little family, too." He leans forward to press a kiss when he's interrupted by Hwayoung saying--
"Ewwwwww!!! Neny and Dada, no kissing before dinner!!!" she says, sticking out her tongue and scrunching her eyes closed. You grin at Geonhak and he wrinkles his nose at you.
"Go help Hwayoung set up the table, I'll serve up portions on plates," you say, pushing Geonhak away. He blows a quick kiss to you before going to Hwayoung to help her set the table.
"Goodnight, Hwayoung," you say, tucking your daughter beneath her covers. Geonhak stand behind you, waiting for his turn to say goodnight to Hwayoung. He usually goes last because he always takes the longest to say goodnight to her. You press a kiss to her forehead and her nose.
"Goodnight, Neny," Hwayoung says.
"Sweet dreams, mmkay?" you say, poking her nose. She giggles and grins as you stand up and steps away so that Geonhak can kneel down next to the bed in your place.
"Hwayoung, my little rosebud," he says. He picks up her stuffed fox toy, Tamarack, which lays next to her, and touches its nose to hers, before handing it to her. "Tamarack will protect you from the bed bugs and the monster under your bed tonight."
"Mmhmm!!!"
"Goodnight, my rosebud," Geonhak says. "Sweet dreams, dream of . . ." He pauses to consider. "Ice cream. Strawberry ice cream with chocolate drizzle. And Tamarack. And dance parties! Dance parties with your uncles."
"Yes, Dada," Hwayoung says. He presses a kiss to her forehead, and walks with you to the door. "Goodnight Neny! Goodnight Dada!"
You close her door and smile to yourself.
"It's bedtime for us, too," Geonhak says, taking your hand. "I have a schedule tomorrow, and you have work early in the morning."
You nod and cringe. "Yeah . . . work. As Hwayoung would say, 'Ewwwwww!'" You make a disgusted face at the word and Geonhak laughs, leading you by the hand to your shared bedroom.
"I love you, Y/Nie."
"And I love you, Geonhak."
You and Geonhak get ready for bed and climb beneath the covers to get to sleep. You notice Geonhak is staring at you, smiling, and you raise your eyebrows at him.
"What're you smiling at, Hak?" you ask. He closes his eyes and wrinkles his nose a bit, smiling contently.
"You two are my whole world, Y/Nie," Geonhak says. "You and Hwayoung. You're my whole world, and nothing can replace you two. I love you, Y/N."
You lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose. "I love you too, Geonhak. Sleep. Work tomorrow."
He hums and wraps his arms around you. "Goodnight, my love," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Maybe people in the arts industry had a different way of communicating, but you were glad when you found someone who seemed to understand you.
♥ Characters: museum curator!Leedo (mentioned as Gunhak here) x fashion historian!reader/you
♥ Genre: fluff, slice of life
♥ Words: 2.2k
♥ A/N: Dedicated to @dat-town because two of her weaknesses are arts and Leedo, so I had to combine these two. *-* Congratulations on graduating and surviving your masters with that hell of a department! I’m so proud of you and wish you all the best in the future! Love you looooooooots! 💖
♥ Click here to be added to the TAGLIST and to let me know about your fic preferences.
You didn’t know what to expect from this particular exhibition because it would be a blessing for your research if it could be of any help, but if it turned out to be a disappointment, then you had gotten your hopes up for nothing. As a fashion historian, it wasn’t easy to have exhibitions that focused as much on your field of work as for a general historian even though clothes were usually displayed for such exhibitions. So to have a whole one dedicated to the era you had been researching for in the past month seemed like a gift by fate, destiny or however you wanted to call it.
Excited, you made your way to the RBW Gallery, one of the newer artsy sights around, hopeful that you might be able to get more in touch with your research topic, and maybe you could ask someone who was working there how they had managed to gather the information they had presented. You weren’t sure how such things worked, but at least you wanted to give it a try.
Thankfully, the exhibition itself was even better than you had imagined. There were a lot of interactive elements that would attract kids to try out different things or even just average people who didn’t know a lot about arts but wished to get involved. The descriptions beside the art pieces were also written well; professional vocabulary backed up by explanations, so that everyone would know and understand what they could see in front of their eyes. You were focused on each and every piece, and your enthusiasm didn’t die out by the end either, that’s just how good it was.
As you reached the end of the exhibition, you walked up to the young man who was the most staff-looking there (the lady reading a book in the corner didn’t seem like someone who did more than to supervise the peace of the room), hoping that he could help you with your queries. Even though he looked like more of a bodyguard with his tall, muscular build and broad shoulders, judged by the name tag attached to his beige knitted sweater, you had managed to find just the right person.
“Good morning!” You greeted him enthusiastically, bowing to show your respect. As you straightened your back, you looked up at him again, and you were glad to see a polite smile playing along his lips. He looked a bit closed-off and rigid otherwise, but the moment his lips curled upwards, he seemed a lot softer. Well, not that it would have mattered anyways, it was just nice to see another side of him so quickly.
“Good morning! How can I help you?” he inquired in a rather raspy voice that oddly matched his more mature, manly features.
“Are you the curator, right? Mr Kim?” You blinked at him, hopeful. Kim Gunhak was said to be the museum curator based on the leaflet you had been given when you had entered the RBW Gallery, and his name tag said the same, so it must have been him.
“Yes, that’s me,” he confirmed, a bit of curiosity lacing his words. You had to admit you had expected an elderly man instead of him, but it was lovely that such a young man was taking over this position. You were already quite impressed by him.
Yet, you weren’t there to waste his time by pondering over such things anyway, so you quickly introduced yourself and told him about your job and how you had been researching for the clothing style of Koreans during the era they had showcased in this exhibition. His eyes lit up when he realized that you were someone who would know what to look for in art pieces, and the sight warmed your heart.
“Oh really?” he asked back, making you blush a bit. Usually, people didn’t think too much of your profession, but he seemed to appreciate it, and you were really thankful for that. “How did you enjoy our exhibition?”
“It was so fascinating, and I liked the modern elements that you put in there for those who are not that interested in arts but they would still like to enjoy it. Oh, and I also really liked that you’ve shown that they use certain clothing pieces from that era in modern-day hanboks and even stage outfits for idols. It was really interesting,” you let him know under one breath, and when you finally took in a deep breath, you let out a bit of a giggle when you exhaled next. “Gosh, I’m blabbering so much,” you admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear to hide your embarrassment, probably to no avail.
Mr Kim smiled at you even brighter, and you swore he looked incredibly soft when he was smiling. It was a silky, tender smile, the kind that blooms flowers and invites sunshine onto a cloudy sky. It reminded you of cosy nights with a cup of tea in winter, fireworks going off in the night sky during summer, leaves creating a runway of the whole colour palette in autumn and the air being filled with the sweet fragrances of blooming flowers in spring.
“No, no, it’s okay. It’s fine. I’m really glad you’ve enjoyed it so much, and that it could live up to your expectations,” he explained his newfound delight, putting your mind at ease.
“I was just wondering if you could maybe help me with my research a bit. I mean, I’m not asking you to do it instead of me, of course. But maybe we could have a chat about this particular era and share the knowledge, so that I could be more confident in what I’m writing about,” you suggested enthusiastically, and you were yet again talking too fast and too much. A bad habit of yours when you were both embarrassed and excited.
Mr.Kim didn’t seem to mind though. He looked at you just as politely as before, and his eyes shone fondly.
“Sure, I wouldn’t mind,” he gave in and handed you a business card of his for a more convenient and smoother way of communication in the future. You promised him that you would contact him and arrange a time way before it would take place, so he could prepare and see how it fits into his schedule, then you left with a wide smile on your face and some newfound hope for the next meeting with him.
You had managed to decide on a suitable time pretty fast, so only a week later, you knocked on the door of his office at the gallery, balancing the cup tray with your other hand that you had been given for the two servings of coffee you had bought. When he opened the door, you smiled at him widely.
“Hi, Mr Kim!” You greeted him zealously, noting that he was very handsome still even though he wore a casual black formal shirt and navy-blue jeans.
“Hello! Please, come in,” he beckoned as he stepped sideways to give you more space to walk into his office. While you were doing so, he remarked: “And Gunhak is fine. I guess we don’t have that much of an age difference,” he noted, and so when you discussed what year you had been born in, you had to realize that he was right. So you agreed on calling him informally because you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, not in any way.
He offered you a seat which you thanked kindly, and as you put down the tray of the two coffee mugs onto the table, you caught sight of a tray with a teapot, two cups and further cups that were filled with honey, sugar and lemon juice. He noticed the drinks at the same time, and you didn’t know which one of you was more embarrassed.
“Oh sorry, I’ve just bought some coffee because I didn’t want to come empty-handed,” you justified, feeling a bit guilty. However, Gunhak waved off your apologies, and let a coy smile appear on his lips.
“It’s fine. I’ve also wanted to prepare something for you, so I hope you like green tea.”
“I do.” You nodded immediately, and you were 100% honest. Even though it would have been very awkward if you had hated tea, but you hadn’t said that you liked green tea just so that he wouldn’t feel burdened by his own kind gesture, it was the actual truth. Thank god it was though! “And do you like coffee?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll drink it well, don’t worry. We can always re-heat the drinks,” he pointed out reasonably, and you had to give it to him that he was absolutely right. Not to mention that his remark could definitely put an end to this awkwardness in the air, so you nodded with a smile, thankful that he knew how to solve the sudden tension.
After settling on the first drink you would have, Gunhak started with a few questions about your research, hoping to hear about it in detail. You provided him with some papers and the draft of your half-written research article, so that he could have a look at it including your bibliography and other resources. Then, he went on to talk about how he had found all the information for the exhibition, and somewhere along the way, the conversation sparked new ideas in you, details that you could try to find more on, possible future research topics that could relate to this one yet they could stand on their own just as well, and so many more thoughts and connections than you would have thought so before.
Gunhak knew a lot about the lifestyle of people during the said era, historical events, traditions and values that could indicate why they had needed to or chosen to dress the way they had done so. He was particularly resourceful, backing up what he said with information, and the way he spoke was eloquent and patient - as if he was talking to someone who wouldn’t care about arts, but he would try his best to make it seem like something fascinating. You had to admit that it had been a long time since you could have talked to someone so sophisticated, and it felt so good. As if you had been understood by someone for your enthusiasm and knowledge, it was also very rewarding.
Nevertheless, your eyes sometimes stayed on Gunhak’s features a bit more than it was necessary because you just couldn’t believe that he seemed like an ice prince, but he was actually one of the most warmhearted people you’ve known, and his words were always gentle and considerate. His smiles might not have been that frequent when he was seriously discussing a historical event in detail, but it made those times even more worth it when his lips curled upwards.
Coffee cups empty, the pot of tea also finished, you only realized how much time had passed by when it was getting dark outside, and Gunhak had to turn on the lights for you to be able to see the pages in front of you more properly.
“I should go now. It’s getting late,” you commented, looking around a bit nervously, and you were ready for him to bid his goodbye, but you were in for a surprise when he mentioned:
“There’s one more thing I would like to show you, so if you aren’t in a hurry, you can stay.”
“Y-yeah, sure, I’m not going anywhere after this,” you stuttered a bit, sudden shyness taking hold of you. You were sure that you were also blushing a bit, but how couldn’t you when he smiled at you as if he had been happy that you would stay more?
“Yet, since it’s close to dinner time, how about we order something?” he suggested after looking at the clock on the wall. When he looked back at you, you nodded, your smile saying more than anything else could in that moment.
So you indeed stayed for a bit more, and when dinner arrived, you let go of the research topic, and you talked about everything that came to your mind. He talked about his little brother (and even showed you pictures, melting your heart even more!) and how he had wanted to become a teacher, and you talked about how you had found your path to fashion history, and how it was living with three other girls in a shared flat. Gunhak was a lot more loosened up when he wasn’t talking about something his profession was related to, but you were the same, so you could understand him.
And somewhere in between those warm smiles, that mutual understanding towards each other’s enthusiasm and the hearts that were beating for the same kind of passion, something was being created as if it had been an invisible work of art, something that everyone experienced but in different doses and different ways: the art of love.
😭i meant to reply yesterday but i got busy😭 it's good to hear that you're doing well tho💛💞 I'm doing pretty good! I have two days off from school soon and I don't have that much schoolwork yay ^^ As for that request, barista! au w/ Leedo with y/n as the barista and Leedo is a constant customer who always orders black coffee but y/n always manages to slip some sugar in his coffee. If you don't like the idea you don't have to do it! And if you do it, please take your time and don't rush💖
Okay but this is the C U T E S T concept I needed with this amazing boy 🤧🤧😍😍 not gonna lie but barista au is my weakness 🙂 Sorry for taking so damn long to write this but still I hope the wait was worth enough and that you enjoy this little something ❤❤ Love ya buddy 💛💛
(09:42 am)
Another foggy morning at work has finally arrived. You somehow managed to feel the cozy feeling everyone said the little cafe you worked on had, getting a bit excited about going to work in the past few days when at the very beginning working on that cafe felt like a big burden to you. But the bills for your small apartment and the tuition of your college wouldn’t get paid for themselves so as soon as you noticed the small ad at the entrance that said they were looking for staff, you had to go for it and accept the job even if you weren’t really an enthusiast of serving coffee.
But all of that changed when that boy named Geonhak appeared one fine day. His deep voice did not make justice to how kind and soft he actually was and his shy talks at the very beginning did not make justice to how funny he actually was once he got confident. Day by day you just wanted to arrive at your workplace and wait for him to arrive and order his regular sized americano with extra shots of coffee and have your daily amusing chat about whatever came to your minds. Somehow, both of you grew closer and closer just by seeing each other everyday in that cafe, it felt like it came out of a drama plot.
And soon you started to catch feelings for him, only noticing how much you actually liked him and cared about him when you managed to pour some sugar on his coffee. “Did you really put sugar on it once again?” He said, knocking you out of your thoughts and taking you back to reality. “How can you even drink the coffee as dark as that one? You’re going to have a heart attack someday because of that amount of caffeine.” You replied while you kept preparing the rest of the coffees for the rest of the customers. “Do I have to remind you sugar gives you diabetes?” He said mocking you. “And do I have to remind you caffeine can cause insomnia, headaches, dizziness, fast or abnormal heartbeat, dehydration, anxiety-.” You started to enumerate every single consequence of caffeine on health. “Okay, okay fine.” He cut you off rolling his eyes clearly annoyed. “Since when do you care about me this much?” He suddenly asked sipping his coffee. His question made your cheeks burn in red, just now realizing how much you liked him once again. “I guess I consider you a friend now after all this time…” You confessed, your eyes glued on the coffee you were making obviously unable to meet his gaze. “Cool, I like it.” He said, sipping once again on his coffee.
And just like that, another amazing morning with him finished, making you think about a future with him. At first it felt crazy but nowadays, after dating him for a year and celebrating your first anniversary in the same cafe, it didn’t feel crazy at all.
Geonhak and you were pretty good friends, but he hasn't heard from you in a while, so obviously he got worried.
He was still a bit shy about texting you first, even though he's known you for a bit over 2 years already, but he knew that you were aware of his shyness.
Yet it wasn't normal of you to not shoot him a text in over 3 days. Since he wasn't big on words Geonhak decided to pay you a visit, making use of the spare keys you gave him in case you were to forget yours, which actually happened a few times.
He enters your apartment and takes off his shoes before announcing himself. "Y/N? Are you home?"
The lack of a reply is odd to him, so he steps into your living space and looks around. Everything looked untouched, only a messy blanket which was laying on the sofa indicated life in there. Geonhak was confused and worried as hell to say the least, frantically looking around and rushing through the rooms when he notices the door to your bedroom is slightly open.
He enters the room, the only light in there coming from where he was standing.
You were laying in your bed, shaking and a pillow pressed over your face. "Hey, what's wrong?!" Geonhak immediately gets worried and rushes towards you, carefully prying the pillow out of your grasp and putting it down beside him. "Why are you crying? Are you hurt?" He asks, taking a hold of your hand.
You weakly shake your head, covering your face with your free hand and hoping to escape from his sharp yet worried eyes.
Lately you just weren't feeling like yourself, your persona made a 180° turn and you went from being talkative to just being quiet towards your friends. To you it just felt like you were annoying them more than anything, always being the one to text them first. It made you feel so insecure about yourself that you just decided to not text anyone at all to see if they actually cared, but that backfired when really no one bothered to check up on you.
Well, besides Geonhak.
"Talk to me" He says and pulls you into a sitting position, gently pushing your face against his chest. "Why are you crying?" He repeats his question.
You take a minute to gather yourself. "I-It feels like every-everyone just forgot I ex-exist" you stammer with a quiet, broken voice. "No one b-bothered to try and contact me"
Geonhak feels his heart clench at what you tell him, feeling bad for not overcoming his shyness and just text you. He hugs you tightly. "I'm sorry for not texting you…" he mumbles, "I don't know why I can't ever text you first" that was a lie. He knows.
"It's okay" you sniffle, "at least y-you're here now"
Geonhak sits with you, softly stroking your arm as he listens to your breathing evening out, being sure you've fallen asleep. "I'm really sorry for not reaching out to you sooner" he mumbles quietly, "I'm just… I'm so in love with you"
You know it's wrong to just pretend you're sleeping, but what else could you do now? You were a mess and your mind was tired, so you decide to tell him how you feel in the morning, falling into a restful slumber for now.
The music is lowly playing filling the car with background noises. Geonhak’s eyes are concentrated on the road but it doesn’t stop him from lovingly rubbing my thigh with his right hand. I’m laid back into the seat, my feet on the dashboard and my eyes threatening to flutter shut.
“Don’t fall asleep now, we’re almost there.” He says in his low yet caring voice. I snap my eyes open and smile.
“Yes sir~” I coo, my voice sounding half asleep making him chuckle lowly. I shift in my seat to lean a bit more towards him so I can reach his hair and play with it. “My beautiful boyfriend~” He turns his head to look at me with an amused smile.
“I’m beautiful?”
“So beautiful~ I think I’m gonna watch you watch the sunset.”
“Pfft~” He laughs a little embarrassed by what I just said and it makes me laugh.
“Thank you~”
“Mhh?” He turns his head looking a bit confused.
“I really needed that. A road trip and.. watching the sunset with the love of my life~” I exaggerate on the last part and his rolls his eyes.
“You’re welcome.”
“I love you~”
“And I love you too~” He smiles as his hand squeezes my thigh, my fingers still lightly playing with his dark locks.
