“Stories create community, enable us to see through the eyes of other people, and open us to the claims of others.” ~ Peter Forbes
WELCOME TO LOVE LETTER!
A 200 Follower Event by @livmarauder and @orbitondgtl where we made our friends fill up a silly little form and dedicated some cute, crack, angsty or spicy fics to them based on the answers they gave! This is a love letter to all our moots (that has since grown exponentially after this form was filled a month or two ago) and to caratblr for being an amazing place for us to be creative~! We hope you enjoy the stories <3
(ps: members and who they were assigned to was decided through a wheel spin!)
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #1 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: The Wedding Game
⋆˚✿PAIRING: wedding photographer!seokmin x wedding planner!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: There is nothing so dangerously thrilling like walking the line of love and hate, especially at weddings. You and Seokmin are addicted to it.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: slight sexual content (making out and stuff, but no smut!)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @aeristudios
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 20th July
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #2 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Do Hate The Player
⋆˚✿PAIRING: rival e-sports player!wonwoo x rival e-sports player! fem!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Everyone knows Wonwoo as the most nonchalant member of the notable e-sports team — "GAM3BO1", however, they also know that Wonwoo only loses his cool with a particular hotshot member of the e-sports team, 'ST4RL1GHT'. You. When a variety game show brings the two teams together and expects you two to work together, there may be more to this rivalry that meets the normal viewer's eye.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: swearing, reader is really competitive, some mean comments thrown here and there, everyone else on their team is lowkey (highkey) done with their shit
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @jakedustry
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 23rd July
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #3 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Idiots At Work
⋆˚✿PAIRING: coworker!seungcheol x reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: A heavy snowstorm + a blackout = the solution to your growing feelings for the ever so charming and popular, Seungcheol.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: none, it's fluffy and cute
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @gent1es3xy
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 27th July
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #4 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Under The Skin
⋆˚✿PAIRING: boyfriend! idol!jihoon x girlfriend! non-idol! fem!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Jihoon has never been good with emotions. Everyone know that he pours that into his life's work with Seventeen and you aren't the exception. When he starts working late and neglecting you for their newest comeback, your secret relationship starts to take a toll on you and all the negative thoughts start to swarm which makes you wonder if this relationship was ever worth it in the first place.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT, Angst, negative thoughts, self-doubt, jihoon being a little oblivious, stressed working environment, (more to be added)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @cherry-zip
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 30th July
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #5 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Brain Less
⋆˚✿PAIRING: college student! bf!chan x college student! gf!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Chan is in desperate need of a distraction. You have the perfect solution to his problem.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT (more to be added)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @luvrung
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 3rd August
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #6 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Lost In Translation
⋆˚✿PAIRING: idol!soonyoung x backup dancer! fem!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Hoshi's known for having one of the best stage presences in k-pop history with how confident he was and how much aura he holds on stage. Kwon Soonyoung on the other hand, is the complete opposite when he tries to talk to you, one of Minghao's dancer friends. When he finally works up the courage to, he realizes you can only understand Chinese and everyone begins to wonder how far his crush on you will take him, including himself.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: soonyoung being nervous, minghao being a little shit, (more to be added)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @duhnuuuuwrites
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 6th August
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #7 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: My Husband Is A Loser
⋆˚✿PAIRING: husband!seungkwan x wife!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: You love Seugnkwan in all his silly and annoying glory. Sometimes you just need to get back at him.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: none, but I will be very funny in this
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @cherrypickedxo
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 10th August
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #8 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Subliminal
⋆˚✿PAIRING: brother's best friend! fwb!joshua x fwb! fem!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Joshua Hong is known as the campus heartbreaker, once you get into bed with him or catch feelings for him, you are doomed. When you end up doing both and your brother finds out, you end your partnership with him before you meet your impending doom. However, it seems like Joshua has other plans in mind because he can't seem to let you go without a fight.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT (more to be added)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @mellowgyu
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 13th August
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #9 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Food For Thought
⋆˚✿PAIRING: best friend!mingyu x chef!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Your usual food date with your best friend leads to a night you'll never forget.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT (more to be added)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @cherrymayz
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 17th August
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #10 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Iridescence
⋆˚✿PAIRING: boyfriend!jeonghan x girlfriend! fem!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Jeonghan's always known that he wanted to marry you. It was as if it was written in the stars. However, when the day finally arrives to ask you to be his forever, everything that can go wrong, goes wrong.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: swearing and making out! loads of panicking (more to bed added)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @hopecutie
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 20th August
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #11 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: Bubble Pop Electric
⋆˚✿PAIRING: rich guy! minghao x reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: You have Minghao wrapped around your finger and he proves to you how much he loves it over and over again
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: SMUT! (more to be added)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @gentleisa
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl on 24th August
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #12 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: MIA
⋆˚✿PAIRING: childhood best friend! idol!vernon x rockstar! fem!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Seventeen thinks Vernon might be a bit delusional sometimes, because why was he talking about you, a world renown rockstar as if he personally knew you? Even worse, why does he think he's dating you?!
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: none! a lot of crack humour, the guys "bullying" vernon, swearing, guy's being stupid (more to be added)
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @mylovesstuffs
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @livmarauder on 27th August
READ HERE
── ⋆⋅☆ LOVE LETTER #13 ☆⋅⋆ ──
⋆˚✿TITLE: The Chronicles of a Girl Dad
⋆˚✿PAIRING: husband! idol!jun x wife! non-idol! fem!reader
⋆˚✿SYNOPSIS: Jun didn't think fatherhood would look like this... especially with him dressed as a pretty princess with blue eyeshadow and a tiara to a picnic that his daughters wanted.
⋆˚✿WARNINGS: none! loads of fluff and reader making fun of jun!
ᯓ★ A Love Letter to @nerdycheol
ᯓ★ Delivered by: @orbitondgtl & @livmarauder on 31st August
to celebrate jeonghan coming home… user haoboutyou is also coming home??? life has been tough but i’m tougher 💪
it is entirely jeonghan's fault that the two of you only arrive at the beach when everyone else was getting ready to leave.
by the time the train pulls into the station nearest the beach, the afternoon has already begun softening around the edges. the heat no longer sits heavily on your shoulders, and the crowd you've expected is already thinning. families are packing up picnic blankets while children drag their feet across the sand, bargaining for five more minutes in the water. somewhere behind you, someone struggles to fold an umbrella that's clearly won the argument.
you'd told him as much while the train rattled towards the coast, watching families with oversized cooler boxes board at earlier stops. when the two of you finally stepped onto the sand, the afternoon sun has already begun its slow descent, bathing the shoreline in a warm sort of glow that makes everything look softer than it really was.
"i don't know why i listened to you," you mutter, slipping your sandals off before they fill with sand.
jeonghan glances over his shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. "because i have good ideas."
"you have ideas."
"they're usually good."
"they're usually convenient for you." he hums, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and continues walking ahead with the tote bag hanging loosely from one shoulder.
you watch him duck instinctively around a little girl running after a beach ball before he veers closer to the water, where the tide packs the sand into something firmer beneath your feet.
as much as you hated admitting it, he'd been right.
you glance sideways. "...i hate that you're right."
jeonghan smiles to himself without looking at you.
"i know." curse his stupidly handsome smirk.
-
the beach feels slower than you remember. maybe it's because there's finally enough space to hear the waves over everyone else's conversations, or maybe it's because neither of you has anywhere else to be afterwards. the wet sand cools your feet while jeonghan walks close enough that your shoulders brush every few steps.
you don't think much of it when jeonghan slows down for the third time. the first had been because he'd spotted a shell half-buried in the sand, the second because he'd insisted a cloud looked suspiciously like mingyu's profile, and now he's crouching again, poking carefully at something with a stick he'd picked up somewhere along the way. you've already learned that hurrying him accomplishes absolutely nothing, so you stop a few steps ahead and wait instead. eventually, he looks up with the sort of expression that tells you he's forgotten you kept walking in the first place. "look," he says quietly, pointing towards a tiny hermit crab making its way across the wet sand. it takes all of five seconds for the little thing to disappear beneath a rock. somehow, that seems to satisfy him.
you don't say anything about it once he stands again. there isn't much to say, really. the hermit crab has disappeared, the stick in jeonghan's hand is abandoned somewhere along the wet sand, and the two of you continue walking like that small interruption had been a perfectly normal reason to stop. with him, you suppose it is. jeonghan has always had a way of making detours feel intentional, as if the day had been quietly waiting for him to notice whatever everyone else had walked past.
-
by the time you finally decide to sit, the sun has lowered enough that the water looks gold where it catches the light. jeonghan drops onto the towel first with a small sigh, one that sounds far too relieved for someone who has done nothing more strenuous than walk slowly and inspect beach wildlife. you sit beside him and open the container of fruit you packed that morning, only to find the pieces still cold. for a moment, you stare down at it, confused, until jeonghan reaches into the tote and pulls out a half-melted bag of ice with the calm expression of someone who’s just performed the greatest trick of all time.
"when did you buy that?"
"when you were looking for your sunglasses."
you pause. "... my sunglasses were on my head."
"i know."
there's no point arguing with him after that, not when he looks so pleased with himself and not when the watermelon is cold enough to make you forgive him almost immediately. the two of you eat straight from the container, passing it back and forth until the fork is mostly forgotten and jeonghan starts stealing pieces with his fingers. every now and then, the wind picks up enough to threaten the napkins, and he catches them without looking particularly proud of himself for doing so.
the beach continues emptying around you. somewhere behind you, the family with the defeated umbrella finally manages to fold it, earning a tired cheer from one of the children. jeonghan laughs under his breath, and when you turn to look at him, the sunset has caught on his face in a way that feels unfair. soft hair, softer eyes, the kind of expression that makes people forget he is usually the reason something has gone missing in the first place. he must feel you staring, because his gaze shifts towards you after a moment, curious but unhurried.
"what is it?"
"’s nothing."
his mouth curves like he doesn't believe you, but he lets it go. instead, he leans back on his hands and looks out at the water again, close enough that your knees touch. after a while, his pinky hooks around yours where your hands rest on the towel between you. not quite holding your hand, not quite asking to, just enough contact to acknowledge you're there.
you let him have it.
the sun sinks lower, the tide creeps closer, and jeonghan's shoulder eventually settles against yours like he has simply run out of reasons to keep the space between you. you think about teasing him for being tired after insisting this was the perfect time to come, but he looks too comfortable to disturb. besides, he had been right. the beach is nicer like this, quiet and half-empty, with the day folding itself away slowly around you.
Title :: Boy, friend
Classification :: Friends to Lovers
Summary :: Everything Vernon does, that's just what friends do....Right?
Word Count :: 5.5k words
series masterlist ✦ svt masterlist
Genre: Hogwarts AU • Friends to Lovers • Slow Burn • Fluff • Mutual Pining • Oblivious Idiots
Trigger Warnings: Mild blood purity discrimination (brief use of "mudblood")
A/N: First part of my series!!! Starting with my bias<3 Hope y'all enjoy it
You were standing outside the Charms corridor with your arms full of books, wishing you had asked Yunjin to carry half of them, when you almost crash into Rosalind, a pureblood Slytherin with a personal grudge against you because of your blood status. Great, out of everyone you could’ve bumped into, it just had to be her.
”Out of the way, Mudblood”, She says it quietly, under her breath, just loud enough that you hear it and quiet enough that no professor passing by would catch it.
You have had the word directed towards you several times before and by now you roughly knew how your body would respond to it: the small drop in your stomach, the heat that climbed up the back of your neck, and the practiced effort of keeping your face still so nobody gets the satisfaction of watching it land. You were already gathering yourself to take your books and keep walking when a voice, almost bored, comes from somewhere behind you.
"Didn't realize we were still doing that outdated shit."
You turn and so does Rosalind.
It was a boy from your year. You knew his name, though you had never really spoken to him beyond a passing greeting in the library. Vernon. He was simply standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking at Rosalind with a straight face.
Rosalind starts to say something about mixed company muddying the crowd. Vernon does not raise his voice. He only tilts his head slightly, eyebrow raised and says, "Funny. I was about to say the same about you."
Then he turns and walks away.
He does not glance back at her. He simply bends down to help you gather your books “Here you go”. You look at him with gratitude and your mouth opening and closing without any words coming out. “Oh..um, thanks..” He nods and walks down the corridor with the same unbothered pace he'd arrived in, his bag slung over one shoulder, and rounds the corner without a backward look.
You stand there for a long moment, too surprised and flustered, the books slipping slightly in your arms, feeling strangely undone. Not by the insult, you were already used to that. You were undone, instead, by the plainness of what he did. He didn't make a scene of it, nor tried to make himself the hero of the corridor. He just refused to let something ugly go unanswered.
That evening, you head to the library like you always do, intending to lose yourself in a Transfiguration essay and forget about the unpleasantness in the corridor. However, it does not work.
Every time your quill pauses, your thoughts drift back to him and you catch yourself searching the room before you even realize you're doing it.
He is there, seated near the window with a Herbology textbook open across his lap, entirely absorbed in whatever he is reading. The firelight catches against the side of his face as he turns a page, unaware that anyone is looking at him.
You find yourself watching for a moment longer than you probably should.
There is nothing especially different about him today. He is only sitting there, reading in comfortable silence.
...Was he always this cute?
The thought lands so suddenly that you nearly drop your quill.
"Absolutely not," you mutter under your breath, giving your own cheek a light smack before forcing your eyes back onto your essay. "We're not doing that."
Your face feels suspiciously warm anyway.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
If someone asked you to name the exact day you and Vernon became friends, you would not be able to answer them. There is no single afternoon you can point to. It happened before you could realise.
It began, you think, with a seat.
You came down to the library carrying more parchment than you could comfortably hold, tired because of a double Potions lesson, and there is a seat near the window that seems to have been left empty despite the room being otherwise full. You sit without thinking much of it. It is only the following evening, when the same seat is empty again, that you glance up and catch Vernon sitting opposite to you, looking away too quickly, as though he had been watching the seat to see whether you would take it.
"Were you saving that for someone?" you ask.
"No, you can sit here" he says. Then, after a pause, he adds, "You always sit there anyway."
"I do?"
"You do."
“Oh, thanks Vernon”. You do not examine this too closely. You only sit down, and he goes back to his book with a nod in reply, and by the end of the week it has become, without either of you ever deciding it, the place where the two of you sat.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
From there, things multiply slowly. He begins falling into step beside you on the walk to Herbology, without a word of greeting, as though the two of you had always walked together. In return, you begin saving him a place at the library table nearest the window.
You spend long stretches of time in silence together, and to your quiet surprise, you find that you do not mind it at all. He has a way of simply existing beside you that makes the quiet feel less like the absence of conversation and more like a kind of company all its own.
Neither of you ever calls any of this friendship out loud. It does not seem to need saying. It is simply what your days are shaped around now.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
It is well into autumn before you catch yourself thinking something you immediately try to talk yourself out of.
You are in the library, having to sit at a table with a single same worn copy of a Transfiguration text owing to the upcoming exams. Without much options, the two of you squeeze into the table that was clearly meant for one person. Your shoulders brushing every time either of you turns a page. Beneath the table, your knees end up pressed together.
Neither of you shifts away. You are meant to be conjugating a difficult incantation, but for several long minutes you are far more aware of the warmth where his knee meets yours than you are of any of the words on the page in front of you.
You tell yourself this means nothing. Friends sit close together. It is a small table. There is nowhere else to put your legs.
"You don’t have to memorise the text, you know right?" His voice is quiet.
You blink, realizing you've been staring at the same paragraph for nearly a minute. "Y-yes I know."
"Wake me up when you’re done reading this page, Miss Sloth"
You nudge his shoulder with yours. "You're insufferable."
"So I've been told."
You find yourself chuckling despite yourself. At that sound, he looks up at you from the book. "Hold still."
Before you can ask why, his hand reaches across the narrow space between you, and his fingers brush lightly against your temple. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, eyes locked with yours as he does it. His thumb lingers for the briefest second against your cheek before he pulls away.
"There."
You stare at him, your breath catching slightly. What just happened
"What?"
"You had ink on your face."
"...That doesn't explain the hair,” you say under your breath.
"It was in the way." he says and simply returns to reading.
Meanwhile you spend the next several minutes pretending to study while your heartbeat refuses to settle. Do friends do that? Surely they do....don't they?
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
Vernon is running late after helping Professor Sprout with something in the greenhouses, leaving you alone long enough for Yunjin to slide into the seat across from you. She tears a piece off her toast before looking at you over the rim of her teacup.
"So," she says, far too casually, "how long have you and Vernon been together?"
You nearly inhale your pumpkin juice and a coughing fit takes over before you can answer.
"What?" you manage between coughs. "We aren't..." You shake your head, still trying to catch your breath. "We're just friends."
Yunjin opens her mouth to reply but instead, her eyes drift over your shoulder. You turn just as Vernon arrives, setting his bag beside him before sitting down next to you.
"You alright?" he asks, already reaching into his pocket and without waiting for an answer, he unfolds a neatly pressed handkerchief and places it in your hand. Then he pulls your empty goblet closer, fills it with water from the pitcher in the middle of the table, and nudges it gently toward you. "Here," he says quietly. "Drink slowly."
You mumble a small thank you, cheeks warming as you take the glass.
Only after you've stopped coughing does he begin serving himself breakfast as though nothing unusual had happened.
When Vernon looks away to butter his toast, Yunjin meets your eyes. One eyebrow lifts.
The expression is enough to let you know her exact thoughts. Sure. Just friends.
You look away first, having nothing to defend yourself anyway.
A few days later, you're leaving the library alone after returning a stack of books while Vernon waits outside for you.
As you're signing the register, Madam Pince glances over her spectacles. "Tell your boyfriend that if he's going to keep borrowing books on advanced Transfiguration, he ought to remember to return them on time."
You blink."My... boyfriend?"
"Mr. Chwe." She says matter-of-factly and stamps another return slip. "The two of you practically live in my library."
Heat crawls up your neck. "Oh... we're actually just friends."
Madam Pince pauses for exactly one second. "Hm." The noise is polite yet entirely unconvinced and she goes back to shelving books.
Outside, Vernon looks up the moment the library doors open. "There you are."
You leave feeling strangely embarrassed, just hoping that he doesn’t notice your blushing cheeks.
Later that week, you're waiting outside Charms while Vernon stays behind to ask Professor Flitwick a question.
Joshua happens to pass by. He slows when he notices you standing alone. "Waiting for Vernon?"
“Oh hello Joshua! Yes, he'll only be another minute."
Joshua smiles to himself. He adjusts the strap of his bag before adding, almost as an afterthought,
"I think it's kinda sweet"
"...What is?"
"The way you always wait for each other."
Your heart stumbles. "We're only friends Shua."
Joshua studies your face for a moment. Then, very gently, he asks, "Has he actually told you that?"
The question catches you completely off guard. Before you can ask what he means, Vernon steps out of the classroom.
Joshua's expression changes immediately. "Anyway," he says with an easy smile, "I'll see you both at dinner."
He walks away before you can stop him.
You spend the entire journey to the Great Hall thinking about those six words.
Has he actually told you that?
Told you what?
The strangest part isn't that people assume you're together. It's how naturally Vernon seems to fit into those assumptions without ever knowing they're happening. You begin to wonder, quietly, whether you are the only person at Hogwarts who is confused about what this actually is.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
When Madam Pince finally announces the library is closing for lunch, Vernon gathers both of your books without asking and waits while you shove loose parchment into your bag. The corridors are crowded with all the students rushing towards the Great Hall. Without thinking, your fingers curl around the sleeve of his robe so you don't lose him in the sea of students. The moment you realize what you're doing, embarrassment floods your face and you let go. Before you could think much about it, his hand reaches your wrist to gently guide you through the crowd.
"Careful," he says as a group of third years barrels around the corner.
His fingers are warm on your wrist and you think he doesn't seem to notice what he’s doing. You are reading way too much into it…you notice far too much...
His hand stays there until the hallway opens into the courtyard. By the time he lets go, your skin still remembers his and you are beginning to think your heart has become deeply unreasonable.
Outside, the air has a sharp bite to it. You rub your hands together as the wind slips beneath your robes.
Without a word, Vernon unwinds the scarf from around his own neck and before you can protest, he loops it around your neck. His fingers brush beneath your chin as he straightens the ends. For one impossible moment, he is standing so close that all you can see is him. As he’s done with securing the scarf around your neck, his eyes lift to yours, offering you a small smile and suddenly you forget how to breathe.
Then he steps back as though nothing unusual has happened.
"I was fine," you manage to mumble out as you both continue walking. You spend the walk to the Great Hall trying to hide your smile into the scarf.
After lunch, the two of you drift back to the Ravenclaw common room to finish the assignment you had barely started. Claiming the sofa nearest the fire, you get comfortable on it trying to warm yourself up. Vernon walks behind you, removing his jumper and throws it casually on the armrest. You quickly lean over and grab it from the armrest, pulling it over your uniform. It hangs well past your fingertips.
He glances up once. "You've stolen another one."
"I’m just borrowing it. Please I think there’s a draft in here" you hug yourself, rubbing your hands on your arms.
"You said that about the last one too."
"I returned that."
"Yeah yeah, you did… only three weeks later."
You look away, unable to hide your grin. "It was too comfortable to return."
“Keep it” He only returns to his notes, completely unbothered, while you try to not look at him too much as you spend your time pretending to understand Ancient Runes.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
Several hours pass as you both work on writing your assignments in silence. You stretch your arms up, fingers flexing as you let out a small yawn. “Finally...I managed to write a bit. Do you want to read it?”
“Hmm let me see” He shifts closer to read your essay over your shoulder and you become acutely aware of how close he is. Close enough to see the faint scar marking his eyebrow. Close enough to notice the way his lips part ever so slightly as he reads out your essay to himself.
“This looks like a good start” He looks at you.
His gaze is fixed on you and you wonder, absurdly, what would happen if neither of you looked away, what would happen if either of you leaned in just a bit closer. Your pulse pounds loudly against your throat as you struggle to get your head straight, unable to look away from the boy sitting beside you.
Your thoughts remain thoughts as Seungkwan enters with pumpkin tarts and the moment breaks. “Tarts for all!” He walks towards you both, and you shift slightly away from Vernon, clearing your throat. “Don’t forget to eat between your obnoxiously long study sessions” he says, offering you one.
Vernon reaches for another piece of tart on the plate, as though nothing had happened. Well nothing had, technically.
Poor you, now you will have to spend the rest of the evening wondering if you imagined the entire thing or not.
Thankfully, the portrait swings open before your thoughts can spiral any further, and Joshua walks in, balancing a stack of books against his hip.
"There you are," he says, walking towards the both of you.
“Didn’t I tell you we’d find them here” Seungkwan joins and takes a few books from Joshua, setting them on the table. "We checked the library, the courtyard, and even the Owlery. We were actually beginning to think you had disappeared."
Joshua's gaze lands on you, then on the oversized jumper and then finally on Vernon. The corners of his mouth lift knowingly. "So this is where you've been hiding."
You hurriedly begin stacking your notes. "I should probably leave you three alone. You haven't seen each other all day."
Before you can stand properly, warm fingers wrap gently around your hand. Vernon looks at you with quiet confusion.
"Why would you leave? We were in the middle of something."
"I just thought you'd want to catch up with them."
His thumb shifts absentmindedly against your knuckles as he gives your hand a gentle tug. "Sit back down. We've still got half an essay left."
The gesture is so casual that it almost makes it worse. You sink back onto the sofa, hoping the warmth creeping into your cheeks isn't too obvious.
Across the room, Seungkwan watches the entire exchange before slowly turning to Joshua. "I'm not saying anything," he murmurs.
Joshua smiles to himself. "I wasn't going to, either."
They both take the armchairs opposite you and the conversation slips easily from homework to Quidditch to Seungkwan's latest complaint about Professor Binns. You find yourself laughing far more than you contribute.
Seungkwan glances around before lowering his voice. "Apparently Mingyu rejected someone today." Joshua looks up in surprise. "Really?" "Not intentionally though," Seungkwan corrects with a sigh. "A girl asked if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her this weekend and he just smiled and said, 'Sure. Who else is coming?'" Joshua groans, dropping his head into one hand. "No..." "By the time someone explained it to him, she was already halfway back to her common room."
Vernon lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Poor Mingyu." His smile is small, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You look away before he can catch you staring, but it doesn't really help. The warm feeling lingers deep inside your chest. Friends aren't supposed to make your heart race just by smiling. At least, you don't think they are.. Or I have been doing friendship wrong for years?
You do not say any of this to him. You are not entirely sure your voice would survive it anyways.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
Finally the gruelling exam is over and you were on your way to find Vernon after your last class of the day, a habit so worn into the shape of your afternoons now that your feet carry you toward the usual courtyard without your having to think about it, when you hear his voice drifting from around the corner. He was talking to someone you did not recognize, his tone easy and unhurried like it always was.
You slow without meaning to. It’s not like you were trying to eavesdrop. You simply catch, as you pass, a question you do not quite hear the whole of, and then Vernon's answer, plain and unmistakable.
"Yeah. I've got a girlfriend."
You stop walking. Whatever comes after that sentence, if anything comes after it at all, never reaches you, because your ears have gone strange and rushing, and your feet were already carrying you backward before you have consciously chosen to move.
A girlfriend.
Not you. It cannot be you, because you have spent months insisting, to anyone who would listen, that the two of you were only friends, and he must have believed you, and so he must have found someone else in all this time, someone you know nothing about, someone he speaks of so easily and so plainly that it must have been true for a while now.
You do not stop to reason any of this through properly. You only turn and walk the other way, the scarf, his scarf, wound tight around your throat as though it might hold in whatever sound is trying to climb up out of your chest, and you do not look back to see whether he noticed you were ever there at all.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
You begin finding reasons not to be where he expects you.
You take your meals early or late, timed carefully around whatever hour you know he will be elsewhere. You study in an empty classroom near the greenhouses instead of your usual table by the library window, and when Madam Pince notices the table sitting empty for the first time in months, she says nothing to you directly, though you catch her frowning at it once, as though the silence itself has become suspicious to her.
You give Vernon short, clipped answers whenever he catches you in a corridor. Busy. Sorry. Can't, essay's due. You do not look at him properly when you say these things, afraid of what your face might give away if you do.
He does not chase you down, not at first. He has never been the sort to make a scene, and some distant, grateful part of you is glad of that even as another part of you, unreasonably, wishes he would corner you and demand to know what is wrong, so that you would not have to be the one to say it first.
Instead, he only grows quieter. You catch him watching you sometimes from across the Great Hall, an expression on his face you have never seen there before. Not hurt, exactly, but something close to it.
Yunjin finds you in your dormitory a week into it, arms folded, entirely unimpressed with your excuses. "What happened?" she asks, "Don't tell me nothing happened because I'm not buying that for a second."
"Nothing happened," you say, which is nearly true, since nothing happened to you directly. You only overheard something you were never meant to hear, and it happened to break something in your chest that you had not realized could break so easily.
Yunjin sighs and sits down on the edge of your bed. "He asked me where you were after Charms yesterday," she says, gentler now. "Then this morning he wanted to know if you'd skipped breakfast because he hadn't seen you in the Great Hall. I don't think he has the faintest idea what's going on."
You do not answer that. You pull your knees up to your chest and stare at the wall, thinking miserably that of course he does not know, since the thing that is wrong is a girlfriend you are not supposed to know about at all. A whole life he apparently has that has nothing to do with you.
You keep the scarf anyway. You tell yourself you will return it eventually. You do not take off the hoodie either, and you find yourself crying quietly into the sleeve of it more than once, which is exactly the sort of thing you had promised yourself you would not become.
You avoid him for eleven days, but god does it feel a good deal longer than that.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
Vernon doesn't go looking for you immediately. For the first few days, he assumes you are simply busy. But by the end of the week, he isn't so sure.
Joshua looks up from his book when Vernon drops onto the sofa opposite him in the Ravenclaw common room. He watches him for a moment before quietly closing the book over a finger to keep his place.
"You've been unusually quiet all evening," he says. "You haven't turned that page in the last ten minutes."
Vernon glances down at the open textbook resting forgotten in his lap before letting out a slow breath. "I don't think she's very happy with me."
Joshua studies him carefully. "What makes you say that?"
"She's been leaving before I can catch up after class. She doesn't come to the library anymore, and every time I ask if she wants to study together, she already has somewhere else to be." He pauses, his brow drawing together slightly. "She even tried to give my scarf back."
Joshua's expression softens. "Did something happen between you two? Did you argue about anything?"
Vernon shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I've been trying to think if I said something that upset her, but... I can't remember anything."
Joshua leans back against the sofa. "Have you actually asked her what's wrong?"
"I asked if she'd been sleeping enough," Vernon replies earnestly. "Then I asked whether she'd skipped lunch because she hadn't been in the Great Hall. Yesterday I asked if she was coming down with a cold."
Joshua waits for him to continue. When nothing else comes, he can't help smiling.
"Vernon... those aren't really the questions I meant. They're thoughtful questions, just not the important ones."
A small crease appears between Vernon's brows, before he can reply, the portrait swings open.
Seungkwan steps into the common room carrying two oversized mugs of hot chocolate. He takes one look at Joshua's amused expression and Vernon's troubled one before raising an eyebrow. "...Why do I feel like I walked into something?"
Joshua gestures toward Vernon. "Him."
Seungkwan crosses the room, hands one mug to Vernon, and drops into the armchair opposite them. "Alright," he says. "Start from the beginning."
Vernon recounts the past week with the same straightforward honesty he applies to everything else.
Seungkwan's teasing smile slowly disappears and the room falls quiet. Joshua and Seungkwan exchange a glance. Neither of them seems particularly convinced by anything they've just heard.
Finally, Seungkwan lets out a small sigh. "I think she's trying to tell you something."
Vernon looks between the two of them. "What?"
Joshua gives him an apologetic smile. "I honestly don't know."
"And neither do you," Seungkwan adds. "You've been trying to figure it out by yourself all week."
Vernon lowers his eyes to the untouched mug warming his hands. "So... what am I supposed to do?"
Joshua answers first. "You stop guessing."
Seungkwan nods. "And you stop asking whether she's eaten lunch."
Joshua smiles too before leaning forward. "Just find her. Sit down with her, and ask what's been bothering her. Then actually listen to the answer."
Vernon is quiet for a long moment, turning the advice over in his mind. Finally, he nods.
"...Alright." He sets the mug down on the table beside him and rises to his feet. "I'll go talk to her."
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
He finds you, eventually, in the courtyard beneath the beech tree, the same place you used to meet every morning before all of this fell apart. You are sitting with your knees drawn up, your face turned toward the lake so that he will not immediately see you have been crying.
He does not say anything at first. He simply lowers himself down beside you, close but not quite touching, and waits patiently, just as he waits for most things.
You break the silence before he does. "I'm sorry," you say, your voice trembling from the very first word. "I know I've been avoiding you. I know that wasn't fair to you. I should've just talked to you instead of disappearing like that."
He watches you quietly. "Okay," he says after a moment, his voice careful, almost cautious. "Can you tell me why you were avoiding me?"
A watery laugh escapes you. "I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you. A couple of weeks ago, in the corridor. You were talking to that Ravenclaw boy."
He nods slowly, trying to remember.
"You said you've got a girlfriend."
Something shifts across his face, surprise perhaps. Whatever it was, you could not quite tell.
"And I didn't hear anything after that," you continue before you lose your nerve. "I didn't need to."
Your voice catches slightly, as you try to get the words out before breaking into another sob. Well, here it goes "I've been in love with you for months, Vernon. I don't even know when it happened exactly. It just... did. Somewhere between spending time together, it stopped feeling like friendship to me."
You laugh weakly through your tears. "I thought maybe you felt something too... I thought maybe it meant something to you as it did to me."
"And then I heard you say that." You shake your head.
The words come more quietly now. "So I figured I just had imagined everything. I thought I'd built an entire relationship in my head while you already had someone else."
"I kept thinking maybe if I stayed away long enough..." You wipe hurriedly at your face "...eventually it would stop hurting."
You let out a shaky breath. “But it didn't."
"I just wanted you to know why I've been avoiding you. I know you have a girlfriend, and I won't make things awkward anymore. I'll stop borrowing your things. I'll stop following you around after class." You manage a small, miserable smile. "I'll leave you alone."
Vernon has gone very still. He looks at you for several seconds, his brow slowly drawing together. "Wait." His voice is quiet.
"I'm trying to understand."
You look up at him, sniffling as you keep wiping your cheeks.
"You heard me say I have a girlfriend”
"...Yes."
"That's why you've been avoiding me."
"Vernon, I don't think that's the important part."
"No," he says gently. "I think it is." He lets out a slow breath, almost sounding relieved. "We've been talking about two completely different things."
You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"
"When I said I've got a girlfriend..." He says it with certainty, walking closer to you, "I meant you."
For a long moment, neither of you says anything at all.
"What," you croak out, "are you talking about?"
He looks at you with genuine confusion now. It wasn’t the look of bewilderment of someone who has no idea what's happening but more like that of confusion of someone realizing an assumption he had quietly lived with for months had never been shared.
He glances down at his hands before looking back at you.
"I gave you my scarf because I hated seeing you shiver. I left my jumpers with you because you always looked prettier wearing them."
A small, almost embarrassed smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"I walked you back to your dorm every night because I wanted to know you got there safely. I waited for you after class because I liked being the first person you looked for when the lesson ended. I made your tea every morning because I remembered how you liked it, and I saved you a seat because I couldn't really imagine sitting there without you."
"None of that means we were dating Vernon."
"What does it mean, then."
"It means we're friends," you say, though even to your own ears the word sounds thinner than it used to, worn down under the weight of everything he has just listed out. "Friends do all of that."
"Do they." He looks at you with genuine, earnest confusion, his brow furrowed as though you just told him the most absurd thing ever "I've never done any of that with a friend before."
"Vernon, you never asked me. None of it was ever official."
"I didn't think I needed to ask," he says quietly. "When people called you my girlfriend...I never corrected them because I thought you had already become that."
The silence between you stretches only for a moment. Then he smiles, small and sheepish. "I just didn't realize that I never actually told you."
You stare at him and your heart feels impossibly full.
"You are," you say, shaking your head through a laugh through the tears, "the biggest idiot I have ever met."
"I've been told that before."
"No," you murmur, stepping closer until there's barely any space left between you. "For someone so smart," you whisper, "you can be unbelievably stupid."
"So I've heard."
"Vernon."
"Hm?"
"Please...just shut up and kiss me already."
His answering smile is so warm it almost steals your breath before he ever touches you. He closes the distance slowly, giving you every chance to change your mind, and when his mouth finally meets yours it is not hurried at all. It is careful, almost searching at first, as though he wants to memorize the exact shape of the moment before he lets himself sink into it. One of his hands stays cradled against your jaw, his thumb moving in a slow, absent stroke along your cheekbone. The other slides to your waist, drawing you closer without any urgency behind it, only warmth. You feel the small, involuntary breath he takes when your fingers curl into his hair, feel him smile faintly against your mouth before he kisses you again, slower this time, like you had all the time in the world.
When you finally part, just barely, your foreheads still resting together, neither of you move to pull away. His breath is unsteady like you have never heard from him before, and you find that undoes you more than the kiss itself did.
When he pulls away, his forehead rests lightly against yours. “Will you officially be my girlfriend?”
You look at him properly then, the way you have not quite let yourself in eleven days, “I think this question was long overdue.”
He laughs then, properly this time, soft and warm, and something about hearing that sound after eleven miserable days makes your eyes sting all over again.
“Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend” You close your eyes, burrowing your face into his chest. For the first time in eleven long days, everything feels uncomplicated again.
The lake ripples quietly beyond the beech tree, and the last of the afternoon sunlight spills gold across the grass around you.
You stay there together until the air begins to cool, holding each other as though nothing had changed. Perhaps because, in Vernon's mind, nothing really had.
The only difference was that now, at last, the two of you understood the same story.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
You come down to breakfast the next morning still half convinced you have dreamed the whole thing, until you spot Vernon already seated at the Hufflepuff table, saving you your usual place beside him like he always has, and your cheeks warm all over again at the sight of him.
You sit down. He does not look up from his toast right away, and then, without any ceremony at all, he slides half of it onto your plate, exactly the way he has done a hundred mornings before, and lays a peck on your cheek, "Morning, girlfriend."
You very nearly choke on your pumpkin juice for the second time this term. He glances up at last, and there it is again, that small, fond, faintly smug curve at the corner of his mouth.
Yunjin, across the table, does not even glance up from her eggs. "Finally," she says, to no one in particular, and returns to her breakfast as though nothing at all has changed, because as far as she and everyone else at Hogwarts are concerned, nothing has.
End.
📖 Before you leave Owl's Library, consider returning this record to the shelves with a reblog so other readers may find it.
Hello!! 👋🏻 Happy (belated) SVT Day!!! 🩵 I hope it's not too late to send in a request, if it is or you don't have time that is totally okay! 🥹
I was hoping to make a request for a Dino x Reader fic, with a secret relationship plot where reader is maybe Dino's makeup artist or something similar? So they're in each others presence pretty often but have to keep their feelings and interactions casual while on camera despite the tension; it'd be cute if Dino was also kind of a tease, like he doesn't mind hinting at their relationship or being flirty but reader is shy about it! So just something with some fun tension and overall fluff, if that's possible 🫶🏻 If you need something more specific, maybe a scenario where, after a performance and/or a music show win, Dino sneaks off to find reader to celebrate but right after they find each other, they're at risk of getting caught so they have to hide real quick; what's coming to mind is that scene from Tangled where Rapunzel and Eugene hide from the guards in the kingdom, if you know what I mean? 😭 Point being, they'd be all giggly once the threat passes and then plan and go on a date or something 🥹
I'm a real sucker for a good idol au + secret relationship, and I know you have a wonwoo fic with that kind of story that I can't WAIT to check out 🫣
Also, love the Carat questionnaire that I'm more than willing to answer 🫶🏻🫶🏻
1. When did you become a Carat?
2017, soon after Don't Wanna Cry was released!!
2. What lured you into Caratland?
In May or June of 2017, so like, RIGHT after DWC, my cousin who was into k-pop wanted to show me some of SVT mv's to try and get me into them, and DWC was the first one! unfortunately at the time I was like "i don't think this is my thing" 😭 only for me to like 5 months later, watch BTS's DNA mv and decide "oh wait I do like this, what was that other group she showed me??" 🫠
3. Who was your first bias?
Hoshi!!! I thought he was funny, and tigers were my favorite animal for the longest time 🐯
4. Who is your current bias?
Constantly cycling through Wonwoo, DK, and Dino, i don't think i'm too alone in having a bias line, right??
5. Who is your wrecker?
I mean, all of them, but if I had to pick someone as consistently trying to make his way permanently onto my bias line, it would be Seungkwan- vocals, looks, humor, wit, talent, like???
6. Favorite SVT song/era?
DWC/A1 will always have a special place in my heart, but alongside it would most likely be _WORLD era or Semicolon era 🖤 My fav songs would take way too long to decide or list, so off the top of my head, 'Lie Again' is SO GOOD OMG
7. Favorite Going Seventeen episode? Or, which GoSe do you rewatch a lot?
Mousebusters!!! I just find them chasing each other around to be really entertaining 😭 So in line with that, also Catch Stock (despite the rampant CHEATING) ; and then of course all the Don't Lies and the Bad Clues, and the Kickball and Going Rangers episodes ><
8. What's a SVT moment that never fails to make you laugh?
I just mentioned it, but so many moments from the Going Rangers episode literally make me bust a lung, specifically, DK's "my jibang, my cholesterol", Wonwoo's 'Spider' dance, and Shua's high note 😭 If there was another, there's this clip of Dino where the camera is up in his face and he gives it such a bad side eye and is like "i'm done talking", i find it really funny- Dino, DK, and Wonwoo are my biases i think partially because I appreciate all their senses of humor the most 🥹 Also shoutout to the Going Seventeen editors, i ADORE their embellishments and memes- AGAIN Going Rangers, they kept bringing back Wonwoo's "my grandiose dreams" from that one Dont Lie 😭😭
9. If you were a member of SVT, which unit would you be a part of?
I would LOVE to say Performance Unit, their discography makes up like half of my favorite SVT songs, but i'm not that inclined with dancing, i'm afraid 😖 so vocal unit!! I do love to sing!
10. In one word, what does SVT mean to you?
Solace 🫂
Always love to make Carat friends, lets keep shining in this diamond life!! 💎
Awh, I had a blast reading your answers! Solace is such a great word to choose! Mousebusters is so funny to watch. My favorite part is when Jun laughs evilly while being pinned down 🤣 I remember having to rewind that the first time I watched it because I was so surprised he was capable of such a sound LOL
Also, I believe it's VERY common to have a bias line in SVT because they're all so incredible! It took me a while to finalize mine haha.
TYSM for requesting this! 🥰
💋 Pairing: Dino/Chan x Reader
💋 Rating/Genres/AUs: PG/Fluff/Idol au, established relationship, secret relationship
💋 Warnings: None, just kissing
💋 Word Count: 1k
seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
Cheers and applause erupt in the dressing room following Seventeen's M Countdown win. The camera pans to show the group, a few members sending hearts in appreciation. Chan meets the camera's lens and sends a flying kiss. You puff a silent laugh and smile.
Before the team went on stage, Chan had told you that if they won, he'd blow you a kiss. It's a silent message, but it doesn't go unheard.
The group's videographers grab their cameras and prepare to get footage of their afterthoughts when they return. You wait in one of the makeup chairs, excited to see Chan and his handsome smile. There's always this special glow that surrounds him when he's happy.
The moment the group comes back, you look out for Chan. He meets your eye the second he steps through the door. He sends a quick head nod towards the exit before turning back to the cameras near him.
"Carats!" He greets cheerfully. "I had a lot of fun…"
You slip from your chair to leave the room. Your steps are slow as you find the vending machine you and Chan usually meet at. A few staff members from other groups bow in greeting, which you return. The hallway becomes less populated the closer you get. It's not too convenient since many groups bring their own food.
To not seem suspicious, you pull out your wallet from your back pocket. You tap it mindlessly as you scan the options.
"How much for a kiss?"
You startle, spinning to see Chan grinning.
You giggle and slip your card back into your wallet. "Sorry, those are reserved for my boyfriend."
"Oh, yeah?" Chan smirks, taking a step closer. "They must be good."
You lift a shoulder. "You'd have to ask him."
Chan takes another step and places his hands low on your hips. He pulls you closer.
"I heard he needs a reminder," he murmurs, low and gravely. Despite it stirring giddiness in your stomach, you know it'll be easy to tease him.
"So, they're forgettable?" You fake a frown.
Chan's eyes widen, and he starts to shake his head profusely.
"No, babe! That's not what I meant. I meant he—I need a reminder of how good they are. How incredible they—"
You press your lips against his briefly.
"'M just messing with you, Channie."
Your smile must reassure him, because his tense shoulders only ease when he sees it.
"You owe me ten kisses just for that!" He huffs halfheartedly.
"I dunno, Chan," you say with a heavy sigh. "Ten's a lot."
Chan squeezes his hands on your body. "That's the minimum."
You laugh. You want to tease him more, but the small pout on his lips is hard to refute.
You lean in and peck his lips.
"One."
"One?" Chan gasps. "That was barely—"
"What are you doing this weekend?"
You and Chan freeze. Thankfully, he recovers more quickly and pulls you into a nook in the wall nearby.
He presses you against the wall, caging you in—trying to get in the shadows as much as possible. The voices don't sound familiar, so it must be another group's staff.
You tuck your face into his chest so no one will recognize you in case you get caught.
"Nothing exciting. Groceries and sleep," another says. "You?"
Chan's chest rises and falls rapidly. You rest a hand on top of his heart and rub your thumb along his shirt. Gradually, his heartbeat slows a fraction.
You smile into his chest while he presses a silent kiss to your head. His hands rub your waist as you both listen to the footsteps pause.
"Pretty much the same except I have to visit my sister too," the first one replies with a laugh.
"What's up with your sister?" the other asks. There's a clunking sound, and you figure one of them got something from the vending machine.
"It's her birthday."
"Ah, wish her a happy birthday for me."
"Will d…"
Their voices and footsteps fade slowly as they leave.
A full minute passes until Chan releases a deep breath. You peer up at him for the first time, and despite having been in a precarious situation, a small giggle escapes your lips. A rush of excitement and fondness floods your body. There's always a thrill of doing something forbidden, and kissing your idol coworker definitely falls under that category.
Chan smiles and joins in your soft laughter.
"You're so cute," he murmurs while reaching out to cup your cheeks. He pulls you close and slots his lips with yours. It's embarrassing how quickly you melt into his muscular body. You hold onto his wrists to keep yourself upright.
"Congratulations, Channie," you whisper after you pull away for air.
"My number one supporter." He kisses you again. Slow, deep, and knee-buckling.
"I dunno about that," you respond. There are his brothers and his fans who cheer him on just as much as you.
"I do," he says. "And to say thanks, how about a date this weekend, baby?"
"Don't you have practice?" you wonder, sliding your hands up his arms to circle his neck.
"I do, but I'd still like to take you somewhere," he says.
"If you insist," you say, "but I'm treating you!"
Chan shakes his head and rubs his thumb along your bottom lip. "You can treat me with more kisses."
"That doesn't count!"
"Well, there's no way I'm letting these pretty hands"—he grabs your hands from around his neck—"touch your wallet. Not when I'm around."
You roll your eyes playfully. "We'll see."
Chan laughs and looks at you challengingly.
"We will," he says, followed by a short kiss. "We'd better get back now. I'll wait a bit before I come in."
You nod, then slip from the shadows.
By the time Chan comes back, the rest of the members are waiting to give a final thanks to their fans.
"Dino!" Seokmin exclaims.
"Sorry," Chan answers and joins his team on the corner.
Soonyoung grabs him around the shoulders and shuffles him in frame. He hugs his brother affectionately.
"You didn't get lost, did you?" he teases the youngest.
Chan smiles and shakes his head. "No. Just had to celebrate with something sweet."
"Did you eat it already? Was it good?" Wonwoo asks.
For a second, Chan's eyes snag on yours from across the room. The mischievous glint in his eyes has your cheeks warming before he even speaks.
PAIRING: F.Reader x ot13
PACK MEMBER FOCUS: Seungcheol
PACK MEETING: You're having a hard time adjusting to your new pack. Good thing your head alpha knows exactly how to help you adapt.
REQUESTED BY: @peaspeas
REQUEST: Idek if this qualifies because I'm talking like, maybe pré-rules or before they were finalised formally but I want Seungcheol finding reader whenever she's eating and sitting with her and she has no idea why. If he shows up and she's already eating, he's like oh shit, panic to make up a reason that he needs to as well etc. Almost a sort of farcical comedy vibe? Both idiots ofc
WC: 5,135
RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It may contain explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
PACK WARNINGS: Very mild angst like wouldn't even call it that, reader has some anxiety adjusting to a new pack, she's a little in her head, Seungcheol is a little shit, some vague references to hormones and adjusting to being near others, reader being lonely and feeling a little on the outside, both of them are kind of stupid lmfaooo but in a good way, some playful arguing at the end.
A/N: Moni this is not as cracky as it was supposed to be and didn't really notice to the end I'm saur sorry lmfaoooo. Also this is not beta read we die like men guys.
HOUSE RULES M. LIST | MAIN M. LIST | ASK
THE KITCHEN IS PAINTED IN SHADES OF BLUE AT 5:47 IN THE MORNING. As the only resident of said kitchen this early in the morning the past two weeks, you've learned that the pre-dawn light that spills through the wide windows above the sink turns everything soft and cool in the morning. The white subway tile back splash starts off a muted grey before the sun finally melts away the blue and turns it bright white each morning.
This morning, the honey-colored cabinets look muted, nearly colorless as the sun hides beyond the horizon. You take another bite of cereal, listening to the old house settle around you. The house has taken getting used to - not because it's ancient, but because it's old enough to feel lived in and have its own quirks of floorboards that squeak, doors that click shut because the hinges are a little loose, pipes that groan when one of the thirteen people upstairs showers late at night.
It's a big house. It has to be, to fit the pack of thirteen - fourteen now, including you. Six alphas, seven betas, and you. A single omega, new and a little out of your comfort zone as you try to figure the ins and outs of a pack who have been together so long, they don't even have to think about how to navigate one another. They just do, planets who have been in rotation of one another for so long that it's as easy as breathing.
Where they've had years together, you've only had two weeks. It still feels like you're learning an entire new language - not because any of them are difficult or unkind, but rather because there's a difference between being welcomed into a pack and belonging, and you're somewhere in the strange gap between the two.
Unfortunately, the omega part of your brain doesn't really understand the distinction between the two, even though you do. You get that it'll take time to integrate yourself fully and to fit in as intimately as the others do with one another, but your instincts don't have that nuance. All your omega knows is that you should be surrounded by a pack, that you should be scented and claimed and constantly near people who want you.
Instead, you're sitting by yourself in a kitchen that feels too big and your instincts are ramming against you to go knock on a door and ask for company. You can't, though. Not that they wouldn't let you in - they would. You know they would. But the small fraction of the what if keeps you rooted to your seat. What if they end up not liking you? What if this doesn't work out? What if they decide they don't need an omega after all?
You stare at the cereal in your bowl, now soggy. It's something honey-flavored and generic that you took out of the pack pantry without looking. Mingyu swore you could take anything out of the pantry and fridge - anything in the house. What’s theirs is yours until you start filling the house with your favorite things, but like the anxiety of asking one of them to spend time with you, you can't seem to figure out how to ask for cinnamon sugar cereal or sweet cream coffee creamer.
Another bite confirms your cereal is as soggy as it looks. You ignore it, watching the kitchen in the morning stillness. It still smells like cinnamon and brown sugar from something Mingyu baked yesterday. Dishes pile in the sink and you know Seungcheol is going to have a field day when he sees it, adamant about dishes being done each night.
Under the layers of the smell of the kitchen is them. You're still trying to pick out the strands of scents that belong to each member, but thirteen scents layered over the top of one another is dizzying and hard to get used to, each one blending into something that you recognize as almost pack. Pack but not.
There are a few you can pick out individually, at least. You know Seungcheol's cedar and smoke, the head alpha easier to scent than the others. Jeonghan's citrus and something that you can't put your finger on. Mingyu's clean laundry smell with a hint of something soft and woody. The others remain a bit of a mess, but you're determined to try, hoping that maybe untangling each scent will lead you to untangling them and finding a sense of belonging that you'd hoped to find here and that they said they'd wanted you to find.
You try not to think about what happens if you don't find a place here. Though it's actually entirely normal not to, you don't know if you could survive that kind of embarrassment. You had already been a bit wary of using omega placement services as it was, desperate to find a pack after years of living on your own and unwilling to go back to living with your all-beta family in your tiny town where nothing much ever happened.
Thirteen pack members is a lot after coming from something small, something lonely. You'd been thrilled at the idea, realizing that you'd never be alone again, that you'd always have someone to lean on. Now you're here, in a house full of thirteen people who are supposed to be your pack, and you're still eating breakfast alone. Still sitting on the outside of their easy familiarity. Still trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between being new and being home.
Creaking stairs catch your attention. You perk up, freezing as you listen to the soft steps of someone coming down the stairs and toward the kitchen. You smell the cedar and smoke before you see him, your brain getting a little foggy before Seungcheol ever steps into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
He pulls up short when he sees you. He's surprised, and you realize he hadn't smelled you before he walked in, unused to having an omega or an outsider in his house. He looks devastating this morning in sweatpants slung low on his hips and a t-shirt that's tight enough to show off the width of him and strength in his chest. An alpha not only built strong mentally but physically, someone who feels and looks dependable, someone who looks entirely too soft and swollen and pretty in the dawn light.
He blinks at you. His eyes are dark and a little unfocused, still soft with sleep, but there's something sharp underneath. It makes you sit up straighter, you body thrumming as he flicks on the light. You squint, but when your eyes adjust, he's still looking at you with an expression he doesn't understand.
"Why are you sitting in the dark?" He asks, voice rough with sleep. "Are you alright?"
"What? Oh." You lower your spoon to the bowl, hyperaware of him. "Sorry, I'm an early riser in new places. I can go if you need the kitchen, sorry-"
"No, stay."
It's not a command, but his voice is firm enough that you nod instantly, relaxing a little. He moves further into the room, carrying the heavy presence of a head alpha with him. You can feel it in the way he moves, the way he takes up space and the gravity around him that has nothing to do with physical mass and everything to do with him.
You grip the edge of the counter, trying to stay composed as your omega instincts kick in. The last thing you want is for him to think you're awkward or needy. You don't want him to know how much you're struggling with this transition more than you should be. You're supposed to be settling in and comfortable by now, but you're not.
It scares you.
"Coffee?" he asks, already turning it on.
"No, I'm okay."
He hums, opening the cabinet next to the coffee maker. You watch him scan the mugs until he finds a specific one and selects it. You wonder if they have assigned mugs, if there's a hierarchy in the cabinet beyond your understanding like so many other things here.
Silence hangs between you as he makes his coffee, turning to lean backward against the counter with the mug tucked between his hands. His gaze drifts back to you and he gives you a soft smile that you tentatively return. The attention makes you feel exposed, like he's looking at you and sees right through the core of you despite only having been in the same room for a few minutes.
"Couldn't sleep?" You ask, desperately trying to fill the silence.
"Something like that." He gestures toward you. "What about you? Do you do this a lot? Waking up early and sitting alone in the dark, I mean."
"I guess, yeah. I have a hard time sleeping in new places and I don't like to just lay there."
"Mmm." There's a pause, and you can feel him still watching you. Still assessing. "You eat breakfast alone a lot too?"
You glance down at the bowl. "Sometimes, I guess? I'm usually up before anyone else."
"How long have you been up?"
"Maybe an hour?"
"And you've just been sitting here by yourself."
It's not quite a question, but it feels like one. You glance up at him, trying to figure out where this is going, but his expression is unreadable. His scent shifts and you realize what it is. Protectiveness. He doesn't like that you're sitting here by yourself, and the realization makes something warm unfurl in your chest.
"I don't mind," you murmur, looking down again to hide the sudden flush you feel.
He hums. "I'm hungry." You look up, confused at the statement. He points to your bowl. "What are you having?"
"Cereal. I think it's honey? I didn't want to wake anyone up by cooking."
"Cereal sounds good. Honey is Chan's. Good choice."
He moves with purpose then, crossing to the cabinets to pull down a bowl. Your eyes catch on the line of his shoulders and the way his muscles shift under the cotton tee, the way it rides up just slightly as he reaches for the milk in the fridge, revealing a tiny strip of skin at his lower back that makes your mouth go dry. You look away quickly, back down at your soggy cereal, and try to get your breathing under control.
You watch as he fixes himself a bowl of cereal and strides over to you, dragging a stool up next to you. You blink in surprise. You expected him to sit across from you, but instead he plops down next to you close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin and close enough that the cedar and smoke of him makes your eyes flutter. His knee brushes yours as he adjusts and you have to physically stop yourself from leaning into him, your nervous system lighting up at the proximity.
"So," he says, pulling you from the static of your thoughts. "Tell me about yourself."
You blink at him. "Like what?"
"Anything." He takes another bite of cereal like this is completely normal. Like he wakes up at five in the morning to eat with strangers all the time. "Where are you from again?"
"Small town." You stir your cereal. The milk swirls. "Really small. Everyone-knows-everyone small."
"And you left."
"For college. I came back for a few years after but it didn't feel like I fit in anymore so I moved to the city, got an apartment by myself. Thought I wanted independence and freedom to figure things out on my own terms." You take a bite of cereal just to have something to do with your hands. "Turns out being alone and being independent aren't the same thing. I was just lonely. Really lonely. Didn't even realize how bad it was until I started looking into pack placement programs and well… now I’m here trying it out, I guess."
Seungcheol goes quiet. When you glance over, his expression is soft. "How long were you alone?"
"Three years."
"That's a long time for anyone, not specifically an omega."
"Yeah." You swallow. "I didn't know what I was missing. I'm still trying to figure it out, I think and how I… fit in."
"You're doing fine," he says.
"I eat breakfast alone every morning."
"Not this morning, though."
The words are simple and direct. When you look up at him, he's watching you with something warm in his expression. Something that makes your chest tight.
"No," you say quietly. "Not this morning."
He gives you a small smile that transforms his face. Suddenly, he's not the intimidating pack alpha - he's soft and warm, more like a person than someone you have to impress or earn the trust of. You relax a little, stirring your milk aimlessly.
"What about you?" you ask. "What made you want to lead a pack this big?"
He huffs a quiet laugh. "Honestly? I didn't set out to. It just kind of happened. We all met in college, started spending time together, and it felt right. Natural. Then more people joined and suddenly I was the one everyone looked to when decisions needed to be made. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing it right. If I'm taking care of everyone the way I should be."
"I think you're doing a good job," you say. "Everyone seems happy. Settled."
He looks at you and gives you a look, one brow raised. "Everyone except you."
His words make you wince. Not because they're accusatory, but because you didn't think he noticed. You realize it's a bit of an insult for you to have doubted him - Seungcheol's entire role as the head alpha is to understand his pack, to balance the personalities, to lead. That includes you, despite not feeling like it, and you realize that he's taken notice and doesn't intend to let it go.
"We don't eat alone unless we want to in my pack," he says simply.
My pack. The possessiveness in those two words makes something flutter in your chest and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to stop yourself from grinning, to stop yourself from getting too hopeful.
"I didn't want to be a burden," you admit.
"You're not," he promises. "You're a part of our pack which means you're never a burden. We want you here. We wouldn't have gone through the trouble of the agency and placement if we didn't think there was something missing. You were missing and we're happy to gave you, even if it's a little awkward at first."
You can feel your heart beating too fast, the warmth of him making you dizzy. Seungcheol doesn't lean closer, but you feel him closer, the smell of him overwhelming and comforting. You realize he's doing it on purpose, pheromones comforting you like he should. You glance up and he has a knowing look on his face, a little smug and a little endeared and you find yourself smiling.
"Thank you," you manage. "For noticing."
"Always," he murmurs.
You finish your cereal together as the sky outside continues to lighten. For the first time since you moved into this house, you don't feel quite so alone.
-
It's Tuesday in the middle of the day when Seungcheol interrupts your next meal. You look up as he walks onto the back porch, the apple covered in peanut butter in your hand pausing as he sits down next to you at the table. He's got a full plate with him, rice, chicken and vegetables piled high as he sighs and settles in comfortably.
"Hey," he says casually, cracking open the can of soda he's brought along.
"Hi," you say slowly, eyeing him.
"I am starving. Wanted something sweet."
You look at his plate. Then back at him. Then back at the plate.
"Seungcheol, that is not sweet."
"What?"
"You said you wanted something sweet. That's chicken."
He blinks and looks down like he's just now noticing what's on it. You press your lips together as he scratches the side of his neck, nodding. "Right. I meant I wanted something sweet after this. You like ice cream?"
"I do."
"Great." He leans over, peering at your apple slices as his shoulders brush yours, sending a spark through you. "What are you having?"
"Apple and peanut butter."
"Hmmm. Classic." He starts cutting into his chicken as you watch him, eyes narrowed. "How's your day?"
You're still processing the fact that he claimed to be starving for something sweet while holding a savory meal, but you answer anyway, amused.
"Good. I've been reading."
"Yeah? What are you reading?"
Taking another bite of your apple, you tell him. Seungcheol is an engaged listener, nodding and asking follow up questions as he devours his plate. Somehow, time passes easily. Even after he's cleared his plate, he leans back into his chair, foot up on the seat as he tells you about one of his favorite books growing up, dimples appearing every time he smiles.
You love his dimples, watching them as he ducks his head and laughs, long hair falling in his eyes. You smile too, unable to help it around him. He's infectious like that, easily shifting the mood from something tense to warm or lonely to comfortable, like an alpha should.
Eventually, he sighs heavily, stretching. You try not to notice the way his shirt peels up, revealing the barest hint of soft stomach before he drops his arms back down and grins at you.
"I have to get back to work," he says. "But this was nice. We should do it again."
"That would be nice."
He smiles and gets up, clearing his plate and reaching to grab your empty one without much preamble. You watch him go inside, shaking your head when you realize that he never wanted something sweet in the first place.
-
You've been awake for three hours.
It's not insomnia, exactly. It's more like your brain won't shut off and you keep laying in bed replaying conversations, analyzing the way Seungcheol looked at you on Wednesday, wondering if you're reading too much into the fact that Mingyu sat close enough to scent you yesterday but didn't, if any of this means anything or if you're just desperate enough to convince yourself it does. As usual, your brain is doing laps, restless and unsettled, and the quiet of the house at midnight isn't helping. It's making you hyper-aware of how alone you are in your room, how easy it would be to just stay here without anyone noticing and how good you've gotten at it.
So you give up on sleep. Again.
The kitchen is dark when you pad downstairs in your pajamas, the hum of the refrigerator going as you open it up, squinting against the light. You don't bother to turn the overhead lights on, the moon filtering in through the big windows over the sink enough to get by. You steal the honey cereal - Chan's - again from the pantry, and fix a bowl before sitting at the counter, sighing as you take a bite.
Your phone buzzes on the counter, startling you. You flip it over, squinting in the dark as you frown when you read it.
SEUNGCHEOL [12:15 AM]: What are you doing?
Your stomach does something complicated.
YOU [12:15 AM]: Eating cereal… why?
SEUNGCHEOL [12:16 AM] Be right there
You set your phone down slowly, your heart doing something erratic in your chest. He heard you come downstairs. His room is above the kitchen - you know this now - and realize that he must have heard you snooping around down here like he did that first morning he found you eating in the kitchen at five in the morning.
A minute later, he appears in the kitchen doorway and your brain short circuits a little. He's in soft cotton pajama pants and a t-shirt that's clearly old and pulled tight across his chest. His hair is completely disheveled, sticking up in about fifteen different directions, and he's rumpled and sleepy enough to tell you that he absolutely was asleep until he heard you.
"Hey," he croaks.
"I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't," he lies.
"You didn't have to come down, Seungcheol."
"I did. And you can call me Cheol, you know. Seungcheol makes it sound like I'm in trouble."
He moves to the cabinet, and grabs a bowl, making himself a matching snack before he sits down close enough that his thigh brushes yours. You shiver and if he notices, he has the decency not to point it out.
"Maybe you are in trouble," you mutter, taking a bite.
"Yeah? What for?"
"Being a liar who lies. You heard me and came down."
He grins and takes a bite of cereal. He chews thoughtfully for a few seconds, ignoring your stare. "So what if I did? I wanted to join you, so I did. Anyway, trouble sleeping again?"
"Kind of." You push cereal around your bowl, not quite meeting his eyes. "My brain won't shut off."
"Yeah?" He shifts slightly, and you're hyperaware of every point where his body is close to yours. "What's it doing?"
"Thinking."
"Pack stuff?"
"Maybe." You finally look at him. His eyes are soft in the moonlight. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you doing this on purpose?"
He doesn't ask what you mean. Doesn't pretend to be confused. Just smiles into his cereal, and the smile is so knowing that your face goes hot.
"Yep."
"Why?" Your voice is barely a whisper. "Why are you doing this?"
He sets his spoon down. Turns to face you fully, and there's something serious in his expression now, something that makes you sit up and pay attention to him.
"I told you already," he says softly. "We don't eat alone unless we want to. Do you want to?" You hesitate only a moment before shaking your head. "Exaclty. So until you feel confidence to ask someone - you can ask any of us, by the way - I'll make sure you're not eating alone."
It's something so simple and yet it devastates you to hear him say it. It isn't the words themselves exactly, but rather the way he says it, like it's a promise, like he's already decided that this doesn't require permission or gratitude or even for you to ask. It's just a fact that he's going to do this, no negotiation, no need to think about it.
You think about the last three years of your life of eating in your apartment along, of making meals for one, of not having to consider anyone else's schedule or preferences. Three years of being fine with it because fine was easier than admitting you were lonely. And now you have a pack you don't know what to do with, but this alpha - this head of a thirteen-person pack - is keen enough to pick up on what you need and come down to the kitchen at midnight to make sure you have what you need.
It's wonderful and terrifying all at once.
"Okay," you murmur, nodding.
You watch him in the moonlight filtering through the kitchen window. His hair is still a mess and his face is puffy with sleep, but he's soft. Warm. You notice a small scar on his collarbone you've never been close enough to notice before, and wonder where he got it from.
When he finishes his bowl of cereal, he looks at yours, raising his brows. "You finishing that?"
You shake your head and he grins, reaching over and brushing against you deliberately to steal your bowl. The contact is electric as his arm grazes your shoulder, his chest brushing your back for just a second, and your entire nervous system short-circuits. You nearly go catatonic at the contact, omega melting even when he pulls away, leaving you dizzy and touch starved and hungry for something not food. Your skin tingles where he touched you.
Seungcheol notices. This time, you see the way he grins, smug and content at your reaction. It hits you that he planned that, that he wanted you to feel it. The realization makes your chest tight in a way that's half panic, half something else entirely.
You can feel the heat crawling up your neck, your face, and it pisses you off - not at him, but at yourself for being so transparent, so easy to read. You huff and cross your arms over your chest, turning to him, temper flaring a little. You're not mad at all, but your omega instincts bristle in a way that feels playful and fun, something entirely unfamiliar to you. It's like your body knows something your brain hasn't caught up to yet.
"Well that's not fair," you huff. "You can't just do that."
"Do what?"
"Brush up against me and use your… alpha ways."
He laughs, full bellied and loud, echoing off the kitchen walls. "My alpha ways?"
"Yes!"
"That's how it works."
"Well!" You stomp your foot against the footrest on the stool. "I would like to file a complaint. Wait, who do I file a complaint with? You're head alpha."
Even as you say it, you know how ridiculous you sound. You're literally complaining to the person you're complaining about. It's absurd. But there's also a part of you that likes this game, this playful banter.
"You're cute when you panic."
The word lands like a punch. Cute. You're not cute. You're competent and sarcastic and you've survived three years alone in a city that didn't care about you. You're not cute. Except the way he says it makes you feel small in a way that isn't entirely bad. You like it, even.
"I'm not panicking," you say, which is a lie and you both know it.
"Sure."
"And for the record, I'm not cute. I am a very strong, very assertive omega." You stand up, trying to reclaim some dignity, trying to put distance between yourself and the way his presence makes your skin feel too tight. "I've even lived on my own. Very independent."
"Absolutely," he agrees, not sounding convinced at all.
Seungcheol stands with you and puts the bowls in the sink, leaving them unwashed for once. He grins at you and gestures to the door and you listen, because apparently you do that now. Your body just obeys him, no thought required, no decision made. You just move when he moves, follow when he leads. It should feel wrong, but it doesn't. It feels familiar in a way you've been craving and you finally have it.
He follows you up the stairs and you're hyperaware of him behind you, footsteps quiet and measured. . You can feel the warmth of him in the space between your bodies, close enough that you could lean back and touch him. Your omega is purring at his proximity, at the simple fact of him being there, and you hate how easy it's becoming to just accept it. To want it.
The hallway is dark except for the moonlight filtering through the window at the end, letting in enough light for you to walk to your room, third door to the left. When you reach it, you pause, your hand on the doorknob, suddenly unsure of the protocol. Do you just say goodnight? Do you invite him in? The uncertainty makes your stomach knot uncomfortably, panic spiking.
You turn to look at him and he's closer than you expected. Close enough that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his eyes. He's still soft from sleep, and he's looking at you like he looks at the other members of his pack, warm and soft and so gentle that it makes your omega nearly scream.
Seungcheol grins and leans down, pressing a kiss briefly to your head, soft and warm and over before you even know it's happening. Your throat tightens immediately, thoughts turning to static as he takes a step back, winking at you.
"Sleep, he murmurs. "Wake me up when you want breakfast. I mean it."
He dismisses himself then and you watch him walk back down the hallway, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness, and you don't move until you hear his door close softly upstairs.
Only then do you slip into your room and lean against the door, your heart still racing, your forehead still burning with the ghost of his kiss. You touch your fingers to the spot where he kissed you, like you can hold onto it somehow.
Crawling into bed, you do exactly what Seungcheol has asked and you sleep.
-
The next morning when you wake up, you don’t have to wake Seungcheol. You hear the noise downstairs, confusion drawing you down the steps and into the kitchen where breakfast is being made in full. You stand in the doorway, confused as you watch Mingyu and Joshua argue at the stove, the sound of eggs sizzling and the smell of bacon wafting toward you.
Seungkwan is at the coffee machine, staring lifelessly into the open air as his coffee brews while Chan stands on his tip toes to reach more coffee mugs out of the cabinet behind him. Seokmin is sitting on the counter swinging his legs, laughing animatedly at whatever Soonyoung and Jihoon are arguing about near the sink while Jeonghan lays across the counter, head in Seokmin’s lap as he dozes.
Seungcheol walks in behind you, not missing at beat as he steers you by the waist toward the counter. Jeonghan peeks an eye open and grins, lifting himself from Seokmin’s lap to make room for you just as Seungcheol grip you by the waist and halls you up to sit on the counter next to Jeonghan, the citrus and jasmine smell of him placating your immediate irritation at being lifted.
“Why is everyone in the kitchen?” You demand, turning to Jeonghan because Seungcheol is already leaving you and heading for the fridge. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”
“Rule number one,” Jeonghan yawns, scooting closer so that he’s pressed up against you. You hesitate for only a second before you let yourself relax and tentatively lean toward him. “The omega is never allowed to eat alone unless she asks to.”
Seokmin peers around him. “Do you want to?”
His question hangs in the air among the noise and chaos of the kitchen, scents hitting you from every angle, the sound of Minghao complaining about burnt bacon and Mingyu hollering as oil pops and burns his wrist.
You grin, ducking your head a little as Seungcheol catches your eyes from across the kitchen and winks.
★ | member — junhui x gn reader
★ | genre — fluff, headcanons, bullet point list, one suggestive section (clearly labelled at the end so you can skip it if you like!)
★ | word count — 1.2k
★ | warnings — none
★ | notes — requested by anon!
★ | disclaimer — this is fiction! none of this is correct, true, or "confirmed" info. this is my personal perception of his character based on the content i've watched, so please don't take this as fact :) according to kprofiles, the only thing he's actually said is:
... which means bascially nothing haha. my headcanons are gender-neutral so his partner can be anyone (not strictly a girl). don't make assumptions about anyone's sexuality, but again this is fiction so feel free to imagine whatever you like!
── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 jun's ideal type . . .
. . . is someone more extroverted than him (but not too much)
• there's a very specific sweet spot here that he's looking for, someone who's not super extroverted but also not as much of an introvert as he is. since jun definitely leans more introverted, he doesn't mind sitting back and letting you talk to your heart's content. with a partner who's more extroverted than he is, there's no pressure for him to carry the conversation or make jokes. he can just listen and jump in when he wants to, not because he feels obligated to fill the silence when you're around.
• i think he enjoys having extroverted friends (how could he get along so well with svt if he didn't lol) so he's grown used to being around rambunctious energy. maybe not as rowdy 24/7 as someone like hoshi, but he'd like having a partner who knows how to have fun and let loose once in a while. as long as you're enjoying yourself and he doesn't have to interact with a ton of strangers, he doesn't care.
• for most of his life he's taken on a 'big brother' kind of role, so deep down i think he'd secretly want someone who'll take care of him so he can relax. he wants somebody who's not afraid to flag down a waiter and complain about his order being wrong, when he'd rather suck it up and not bother the staff. he wants somebody who'll hold his hand on busy streets and make sure he doesn't get caught up in the crowd and left behind in the chaos. he wants somebody who'll be the older sibling for him this time, someone who's mature and caring in the same way he is.
. . . values communication and honesty
• he's said this plenty of times, but jun is a very honest person. he isn't so honest that he uses his honesty to hurt people — quite the opposite, actually. the last thing he ever wants is to make his partner or his friends uncomfortable by telling harsh truths. but at the same time, open communication is really important to him. having to learn multiple languages for his job, miscommunication happens a lot and he's acutely aware of how frustrating it is when other people don't understand what he's trying to say. even if it may hurt his pride sometimes, he'd want someone who'll always tell him the truth, because he prefers to know instead of hearing little white lies that won't help him grow as a person.
• i think he's very philosophical and he reflects a lot, and he always wants to learn from others and better himself, which is why communication is so important to him. if there's a better, more efficient, more kind way to live his life then he wants to achieve that, and the only way to do that is by being honest with himself and everyone in his life.
. . . is someone he can let his inner child out with
• we've all seen the runner-up winner episode of gose! (if you haven't, then what are you doing go watch it right now?? it's so cute i promise you'll love it) jun is a guy that really loves to play games and be silly. he's so whimsical and finds fun in practically anything, so his ideal type wouldn't mind doing "childish" things together. he wants someone who is truly genuine in everything that they do: who isn't afraid of looking stupid, who doesn't go along with the crowd, who doesn't obsess over how people perceive them.
• he wouldn't fit well with someone who's strict or stubborn or too nonchalant, someone who's a workaholic, because he knows how important it is to have a balance in your life and not take yourself too seriously sometimes. obviously he wouldn't be comfortable around someone who looks down on him for being immature or makes fun of him for acting like a kid sometimes. the man has been working since he was 3 years old, cut him some slack! svt understands this and it's why they treat him so gently. they adore him because they know he needs space to be a little dumb and a little dorky without judgement. he's spent so much of his life being serious, so his ideal partner would be someone who embraces his weird side, and loves him not just in spite of it, but because of it. weird baddies have to stick together so it's a requirement for him sorry you've gotta be a little bit strange.
[NSFW] . . . is a switch who always loves trying new things
• jun is so good at adapting to whatever situation he's in, and i think that would carry over into the bedroom. he's flexible, and he wants someone who can be flexible too and keep up with his many desires. sometimes he's had a rough day and he wants to just turn his brain off and let his partner call the shots, and he'll be your good boy and do whatever you tell him to do. sometimes he wants to be a little bratty and make you force him into submission instead. sometimes he's feeling brave and wants to take charge, and he be a little bit of a mean dom too. but most of the time, to him sex is just sex, so as long as you both feel good it doesn't matter exactly what the roles are. he's very much a "go with the flow" person, so he wouldn't work well with somebody who's very rigid and only likes one certain type of sex.
• he's a man of many talents (singing, dancing, acting, modeling, cooking, martial arts, speaking like 10 different languages... the list goes on) and he doesn't want to do only one thing for his entire life, so i can't see him wanting to stick to one type of sex forever either. like a cat, he's curious about everything, and he wants to try every new thing he comes across. he's open to almost anything, so he'd want a partner who is equally willing to play around with him, even if it doesn't end up being something either of you like. the experimenting is the fun part!
• he'd also want someone who isn't afraid of talking about sex, because while even he can be shy about it sometimes, it's normal and okay and there's nothing weird about it. he loves post-sex discussions where you just lie in bed together and talk about what you liked, what you didn't like, what you want to try differently next time. communication is very important to him, and if something isn't working, he wants to know right away. if it's something he can fix, then there's no reason to beat around the bush instead of tackling it head-on.
• bonus: i am on team "jun wants to be pegged" so i believe his ideal type is someone who isn't afraid of using toys/other items in the bedroom. do NOT try to come between him and his favorite dildo.
i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did please reblog with your thoughts, or leave a comment or send an ask! it shows me that people are interested in my writing, and knowing people liked this makes me want to write more! i put a lot of time, love, and effort into my writing, so feedback is really appreciated and motivates me to keep posting :) thanks for reading!!
Midnight Producer | idol/producer!Woozi x songwriter!Reader | fluff
The clock above the mixing console had just passed midnight. Most of the lights in the HYBE building had already been turned off, leaving only a handful of occupied studios scattered throughout the floors. Somewhere down the hall, someone was probably still recording vocals. Another producer was likely mixing a track that needed to be delivered by morning.
And then there was Y/N, who was currently losing a fight against her own song.
She groaned and let her forehead fall onto the desk with a soft thud.
"This is horrible."
The project file remained silent.
The lyrics were good. At least she thought they were. Writing had never been the problem. Y/N had spent years building her reputation as a songwriter. Lyrics came naturally to her. She loved finding the perfect words, creating stories through music, turning emotions into something people could sing along to.
Producing, however, was a completely different beast.
For the last six months she'd been trying to learn everything she could. Watching tutorials. Reading articles. Sitting in on production meetings whenever someone would let her. Slowly figuring out how songs were built from the ground up.
Tonight had been dedicated to her newest project, and after six straight hours of working on it, she somehow hated it more than when she'd started.
Y/N clicked play again.
The intro sounded fine. The first verse sounded fine. The pre-chorus was decent.
Then the chorus hit.
And she immediately paused it.
"Nope."
She physically recoiled. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She just couldn't figure out what. The worst part was that she'd been listening to it for so long that everything was starting to sound the same.
Maybe she just needed another opinion.
Grabbing her phone, she opened her messages. Her friend was usually awake around this time and often helped when Y/N was stuck creatively. Without thinking much about it, she exported the newest demo, attached it, and typed:
Please tell me what's wrong with this before I throw my laptop out the window.
The chorus sounds weird and I'm losing my mind.
She hit send and tossed her phone onto the desk.
Done.
Problem solved.
Now all she had to do was wait.
While waiting, she got up and stretched her arms above her head. Every bone in her body cracked.
Wonderful.
A true sign of youth.
She walked over to the small coffee machine in the corner and poured herself what was probably her fourth coffee of the night. Or fifth. She had stopped counting.
By the time she returned to her desk, her phone buzzed.
Y/N immediately grabbed it.
"Finally."
She expected to see her friend's name.
Instead, her stomach dropped.
The sender wasn't her friend.
It wasn't even close.
Her eyes widened.
Lee Jihoon.
For a moment she genuinely thought she was hallucinating. Then she opened the message.
The lyrics are good.
The chorus is overcrowded.
The bass is fighting for its life.
Y/N stared.
Read it again.
Then once more.
"The bass is fighting for its life?" she repeated aloud.
What did that even mean?
More importantly—why was Lee Jihoon texting her?
She quickly opened the message thread, checked the recipient, then checked it again. Her soul nearly left her body.
"Oh my god."
She had sent the demo to him.
Not her friend.
Him.
Out of all people.
Producer. Songwriter. Creative genius. One of the most respected producers in the industry.
And she had basically emailed him:
help before I throw my laptop out the window.
Fantastic.
Absolutely fantastic.
Y/N immediately started typing.
I'm so sorry.
That wasn't supposed to go to you.
I meant to send it to a friend.
Sorry for bothering you.
The response came almost instantly.
You already did.
Y/N blinked.
Then laughed despite herself.
Wow.
He really was as blunt as everyone said.
She typed back.
Fair enough.
Sorry again.
A few seconds passed before another message appeared.
The chorus still needs work.
Y/N stared at the screen.
Was he still talking about the song?
I know.
That's why I wanted help.
The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.
Do you know why it sounds crowded?
Y/N looked at her screen, then at the project file, then back at her phone.
Not really.
Exactly.
She frowned.
What does that mean?
It means you're changing things without understanding the problem.
Y/N felt personally attacked.
Wow.
Thank you for the encouragement.
You're welcome.
She nearly threw her phone.
Over the next twenty minutes, the conversation somehow continued. Every answer he gave created three new questions. Every explanation somehow confused her more. Eventually she ended up staring at the screen with a headache.
Finally she sent:
I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about anymore.
The reply came immediately.
I noticed.
Y/N groaned.
A second later another message arrived.
Answer your phone.
Before she could process what that meant, her screen lit up.
Incoming FaceTime.
From Lee Jihoon.
"What?!"
She nearly dropped her coffee.
The call continued ringing. For several seconds she simply stared at it. Then, with absolutely no preparation whatsoever, she accepted.
The screen connected.
Jihoon appeared.
Black hoodie. Messy hair. Headphones hanging around his neck. A half-empty coffee cup sitting beside him.
He looked exactly like someone who hadn't slept properly in days.
The first thing he said was:
"You look confused."
"Hello to you too."
"You don't understand compression."
Y/N stared.
"That's your greeting?"
"It's an observation."
"I understand compression."
"No."
"I do."
"No."
"Jihoon."
"You don't."
She already wanted to hang up.
Unfortunately, he was also helping.
So she stayed.
Over the next few hours, Jihoon walked her through everything. He shared his screen, muted tracks, explained frequencies, adjusted layers, and showed her exactly where sounds were clashing with each other.
At first she understood maybe ten percent of what he was saying.
Then twenty.
Then fifty.
Little by little, the song started making sense.
And for the first time all night, she felt like she was actually learning something.
Time passed faster than she expected.
One hour.
Then two.
Then three.
At some point she had moved from her chair to the couch in the corner of the studio. Jihoon was still talking. Something about transitions. Or layering. Or maybe both.
Honestly, she was struggling to keep her eyes open.
"You still there?" he asked.
"Mhm."
"You sound asleep."
"I'm listening."
"You just said 'mhm.'"
"I did not."
"You literally did."
Y/N yawned.
The blanket hanging over the back of the couch suddenly looked incredibly inviting. Her eyelids felt heavier by the second.
Jihoon continued explaining something.
She tried to focus.
Really.
She did.
But the combination of exhaustion, coffee wearing off, and his oddly calming voice made it impossible.
Her head slowly sank against the cushion.
A few moments later, silence.
Jihoon looked at the screen.
"...Y/N?"
No answer.
"...Y/N."
Still nothing.
He sighed.
The camera showed her curled up on the couch, completely asleep, her phone still balanced beside her.
For a moment he just stared.
Then shook his head.
"Unbelievable."
Yet despite the words, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
A few minutes later he stood from his chair, grabbed his laptop, and headed toward the door. If she was going to pass out in the studio, someone should at least make sure she didn't freeze.
And besides—
Her song was still driving him crazy.
Jihoon pushed the studio door open with his shoulder, his laptop tucked under one arm. The room was quiet except for the low hum of the computer still running on Y/N's desk. His gaze immediately found her asleep on the couch, exactly as she'd been when the FaceTime call ended. A strand of hair had fallen across her face and her phone was still resting dangerously close to the edge of the cushion.
He sighed.
"How are you even alive?"
For a moment he simply stood there before grabbing the blanket draped over a nearby chair and carefully laying it over her. Y/N shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling back into sleep. When she didn't wake up, Jihoon finally stepped away and looked toward the monitor on her desk.
The unfinished song was still open.
At first, he only intended to leave a few notes. Maybe fix one or two things that had been bothering him. Then he would go home.
Instead, he sat down.
One adjustment became another. Then another. Every time he thought he was finished, something else caught his attention. The annoying part was that the song actually had potential. The lyrics were strong, the melody was memorable, and despite all its flaws, the idea behind it was good. Really good.
Which was exactly why he couldn't leave it alone.
Hours passed without him noticing. Outside the windows, the dark sky slowly began to lighten. Empty coffee cups gathered beside the keyboard while the project file became cleaner and cleaner. By the time he finally leaned back in his chair, the chorus breathed naturally, the arrangement flowed smoothly, and the bass was no longer, as he'd so eloquently put it, fighting for its life.
A few feet away, Y/N remained completely asleep.
Jihoon glanced toward her and immediately looked back at the screen. Then, after a few seconds, looked over again.
Still asleep.
How was she sleeping this much?
Shaking his head, he left the studio and returned a short while later carrying two coffees and a small box of donuts. If she was going to panic when she woke up, she could at least do it with breakfast.
The building had already started waking up by the time Y/N finally stirred. Sunlight filtered through the windows and faint voices echoed from somewhere down the hallway. Her brows furrowed as she stretched beneath the blanket, clearly confused about why she wasn't in her chair anymore.
Then she opened her eyes.
For several seconds she simply stared at the ceiling before abruptly sitting upright. The blanket slipped from her shoulders as her gaze landed on Jihoon.
He looked up from his laptop.
"Morning."
Y/N stared.
Jihoon stared back.
Neither moved.
Finally she pointed at him.
"Why are you here?"
"You fell asleep."
"I can see that."
"You seemed comfortable."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Jihoon shrugged, causing Y/N to look around the room. The blanket. The couch. The sunlight streaming through the windows. The coffee sitting on the table. Slowly, realization began settling in.
"Wait," she said. "You came here?"
"Yes."
"You left your studio?"
"Yes."
"You stayed all night?"
Jihoon looked away.
Which was answer enough.
Y/N stared at him in complete disbelief. Before she could say anything else, he pushed a coffee and a donut toward her.
"Breakfast."
"A donut?"
"Breakfast."
She accepted both automatically while still trying to process the situation. Then Jihoon turned the monitor toward her.
"Look."
The moment Y/N saw the project file, she froze.
The arrangement had changed. New layers had been added. The transitions sounded smoother. The chorus, which had been driving her insane only hours ago, suddenly sounded alive.
Her eyes widened.
"Jihoon..."
She clicked through the tracks one by one, noticing adjustment after adjustment.
"You did all this?"
"Some of it."
She looked at him.
"Some of it?"
"Most of it."
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
"You didn't have to do that."
For the first time all morning, Jihoon seemed slightly uncomfortable. His fingers tapped lightly against the desk before he glanced away.
"Yeah."
A brief silence settled between them.
"But I liked your idea."
Y/N looked back at the screen.
Somehow, out of everything he'd said since last night, those four words meant the most.
